By Andrew D. Wright
Sun scorched desert air fell on me with the weight of
centuries of windblown grit and my lungs seized in mid breath. My hand
instinctively flew towards the recall hex on the console, down the lower
right side. It has never been put anywhere else, no matter who built it.
My hand stopped where it was as I saw unfamiliar shapes flickering dimly
on a slate grey freestanding piller almost waist high. This was all wrong
and my stomach
turned to water as it registered that I had never, ever seen a console
like this. Nobody not dead for ages had.