Captain Paul Stevenson blinked hard a few times before realizing he had in fact not lost his sight; it was just pitch black dark.

"The emergency lights aren't even on," he thought. "That's not good." He felt around in the dark, running his hands along his leather seat, eventually finding a cold metal bar on the side. He pulled up, opening the canopy above him. Sunlight poured inside, casting light over the burned out computer systems and flight controls. Paul put his right hand over his eyes to shield the sudden contrast.

He leaned to his left side, and opened up a panel below the computer interface. Peering inside, he studied the blackened wires and coils. After only a few seconds, he sighed and fell back in his chair. Everything was completely fried.

Paul closed his eyes, and breathed in the dusty desert air. His ribs stung with the inhale; there was a black char mark on the computer terminal to his right side, so that may have been the culprit. Paul did not mind the pain though. Pain meant life, and at this point he was lucky to have either.

He reached up and further pushed open the canopy, then stood up and jumped out. It sat alone in a dry, cracking lakebed. A few small mountains could be seen in the distance. The sky was clear; a fine orange haze painting the horizon, with the sun mostly overhead. It was mid-afternoon.

Paul opened a panel on the outside of the canopy, and pulled out a small backpack. Reaching into the pack, he pulled a silver gun out – it had a round barrel with a wide handle. He pulled the top part of the handle off, exposing a video screen.

"Grid. Tracking." He said.

The interface lit up, showing a digital display of the area. He stood in one place and slowly turned around, getting different readouts. He stopped turning at a point where his back faced the canopy.

"There's a town about six miles from here. Scarcely populated." He said to himself. "Hopefully they'll have a coms system." He took the gun and tucked it into his pants behind his back. He started to sling the backpack over his shoulder, but then realized something. He didn't know which town exactly he was going to, and what side they aligned themselves with. The solution was simple enough – he took off his uniform top, a gray nylon button-down shirt with black that ran across the shoulders and the top of the chest. On the right side was a triangular logo with the abbreviation RNA inscribed below. Now, he wore only a black t-shirt, his gray nylon pants, and his black boots – he was obviously a soldier, but for which side could not be ascertained. Paul threw the top into the canopy before taking the backpack and getting underway.

It was late evening when Paul reached the town. It was a small, nearly deserted place. There was a main road, dirt only, along which the majority of the city seemed to lie. There were a handful of buildings outside of the road, but nothing of interest. The sun had already disappeared, but the sky hadn't quite gone dark yet. No stars were visible. A dull haze of dirt wafted through the air, destroying any sharpness or definition the buildings may have had.

Paul scanned down the road. None of the houses looked inhabited, and the small businesses appeared to be closed. Nor were there any sounds that could be heard, aside from the obligatory cricket chirping, or the wind blowing against a loose fixture. There had to be people here; the scanner had indicated so. Paul continued to drift down the street, looking for any sign of civilization. He found an inn near the back of the old road; inns were usually a good place to start if one was looking for people.

Paul entered the inn. There was a small reception area with a few chairs lined up before the front desk. Behind the counter there was an old man with black and silver hair. He wore a black vest and an off-white shirt. Just past the old man was a wooden mail shelf, which was badly splintering. A few wall candles along the wall provided ambient illumination for the reception area.

"Excuse me?" Paul asked.

The man looked up from a book on his desk. Paul noticed the man studying him for a moment, perhaps trying to find something that would identify which side Paul was a solider for.

"Yes." The man said. "Looking for a room?"

Paul smiled, taking a few slow steps forward. "No, actually. I got separated from my unit. I was hoping to be able to use your coms system, if you have one."

"Sorry. We have one, but there was a battle earlier a few miles outside of town, so the network is down. It'll probably be up in the morning."

Paul nodded. "Okay. Thank you for your time."

The old man stopped him before he could turn around. "You look tired son. Why don't you stay the night, and use the coms system in the morning? The next town is quite a few miles out, and I don't know if you can charter a ride this late."

"You know, that might not be a bad idea."

"Do you have any credits?"

"Oh! Yeah, I do." Paul reached into the backpack behind him and dug around. According to standard operating procedures, there should be some funds in every emergency pack. Sure enough, he found two or three of the plastic credit chips – one gold and two green. He held them out to the man behind the desk. The man took the two green chips, and smiled slightly.

"Maria! Maria, will you come down! We have a guest!" The old man called up the stairs to his left. He turned back to Paul. "She'll show you to your room. It'll be just a moment."

"Thanks." Paul took a step away from the counter. "Say, what town is this?"

"Here? Oh, this is Daigo."

Paul raked his lower teeth over his top lip. He was not at all familiar with this place, despite having studied a map of the area this very morning. "Say, I'd hate to be a bother, but would you happen to have a map anywhere around?"

"A map? Oh, I think I do…" The old man looked around behind the desk, shuffling a few papers. "It's here somewhere. Tell you what, I'll find it and have Maria send it up to your room. I'll find it before it gets too late. Maria! Maria! Where is that girl anyway? I'm sorry she's taking so long."

Paul smiled. "It's okay."

The old man looked up the stairs, anxiously. He exhaled heavily, and then turned back to Paul.

"So…you're a soldier?"

Paul quickly turned to him. "Yes."

The old man raised his brow, nodded, and returned to his book. Paul bit his top lip.

"What side do you sympathize with?" Paul asked.

The old man batted an eye towards him. "We have no sympathies."

"Oh." Paul thought. "Neutralists."

Just then, a young, dark haired girl softy descended down the steps. She wore a light blue dress that seemed to be a part of her, moving perfectly with her body. Her hair seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once, falling behind her head and extending about halfway down her back. She made eye contact with Paul for a moment, smiled briefly, then went behind the desk, and took a key from the board next to the mail shelf. Paul found her to be both beautiful, and somehow familiar.

"Please follow me." She said, almost in a whisper, to Paul. He trailed behind her, taking care to adjust his backpack to hide the gun tucked in his pants behind him. She glided up the steps, and down a poorly lit hallway, stopping at a room on the right and opening the door.

It was a simple room. A small bed in the middle, with tan bed sheets. There were two nightstands on both sides of the bed, a small lamp, and a door leading off to the bathroom in the corner. Paul walked inside and dumped his backpack on the bed, careful to remain facing the girl at all times.

"If you need anything, there's a button on that stand over there," Maria said, "just ring it, and I'll come. Oh, and it takes a while for the heater to warm up, so if you want hot water let it run for a few minutes."

Paul smiled. "Thanks, I appreciate it. I don't think I'll be needing anything, I'm just going to sleep a few hours, then head out in the morning."

Maria nodded, and turned for a moment, then returned back to Paul. Her eyes bore down on him, and her lips parted as if to speak, but instead she rolled her lips inside of her mouth, looked away, and then left the room as if that was the way it was meant to be.

Paul started to say something, but thought better of it. He sat down heavily, taking the gun from behind his back and sliding it underneath his pillow. He let himself fall backwards across the bed. There was something familiar about that girl, more than just passing familiarity, as if he had known her before. But he could not place her at all. He considered the Academy, but she did not strike him as the soldier type. Paul also considered the possibility that he was making too much out of the situation. She was extraordinary physically; perhaps that was what he was reacting to.

Paul drifted off to sleep. Not a very heavy sleep, but a gentle sleep. The kind that comes and goes unnoticed, stealing away time in the subtlest manner. Paul didn't know how much time had passed when a knock on the door awoke him.

"Come in." Paul said.

The door opened slightly, just enough for Maria to wisp her way through. She went over to Paul, who stood for her arrival.

"Here is the map you asked for," she said, extending her arm, holding a large, white, folded piece of paper.

Paul thanked her. As she turned to leave, Paul felt compelled to make her stay this time.

"Wait." He said, stopping her before she could flit away again.

"Is there something else you need?"

Paul searched for a plausible excuse for starting a conversation. "How well do you know this area? Do you think you could help me with this map?" Paul bit his upper lip, internally acknowledging how weak his request was.

Maria half-smiled. "Aren't you a soldier? Aren't you supposed to know how to read maps?"

Paul drew more of his upper lip into his mouth. "Well…yes. But I thought maybe you'd know something the maps didn't show. Utilize all resources, something like that."

Maria looked at him carefully. "Sure. There are a couple of towns a few miles outside of here, but not much else."

"Did you grow up here?"

"No, I didn't." Maria stood still now, and Paul no longer sensed the desire to leave from her he had before. He could tell she was now interested in him, but perhaps only to find the reason behind the questions.

"Oh. Where did you grow up, if you don't mind me asking…?"

"Small town like this. It was called El Baz."

"El Baz?" Paul snapped his fingers, grinning. "That's where I grew up! I knew there was something about you I recognized."

Maria lifted an eyebrow. "I was thinking the same. Huh, you grew up in El Baz. What's your name?"

"Paul Stevenson. I lived in El Baz until I went to the Academy…oh, it must have been twelve years ago or so. And you?"

"Maria Porter. I think I left around the same time you did."

"Maria Porter…I think we might have gone to Educational together."

"That would be the most logical. I think I vaguely remember you. Scrawny kid, always into science?"

"Yeah! That was me all right. Wow, I've never run into someone from Educational before. That's really something."

Maria nodded. "So, how did you end up becoming a soldier then? Were you drafted?"

"No, I enlisted, before the drafting. No one had to force me to do what's right."

"…Oh."

Paul sensed a change in her. "Don't worry, I'm not going to launch into any anti-neutralist tirades tonight."

"Oh." She turned slightly. "We're not neutralists."

"You're not?" Suddenly, Paul became more aware of his gun. "The man at the desk said you have no sympathies."

"We don't."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't. You're a soldier."

"How can you have no sympathies and not be a neutralist? You're one side or the other, and if you're not, then you're a neutralist."

"It isn't always that clear cut you know."

Paul began to respond, but remembered that he didn't know which side she was on, if she wasn't a neutralist. "Look, I don't mean to bag on neutralists, but the worst thing you can do is nothing. We may be enemies, but I can respect my enemy for fighting in what they believe in. As I am. And when the dust settles, whoever is left will decide which one was right."

"Maria! Maria!" The old man's voice could be heard from downstairs.

She turned towards the door, as if she could see the words coming from up the stairs. "I have to go." She said softly, excusing herself as she left the room.

As soon as she closed the door, Paul fell back on the bed again. He opened his backpack and reached around inside for the emergency rations. He hadn't eaten in quite some time, and he was starting to feel it. But his mind was not completely on food. He still found it odd to run into someone from Educational. It was a strange sensation, seeing someone whom he hadn't seen since childhood. It was remarkable to see how much a person can grow over the years.

An hour passed, and Paul still sat on the bed, thinking about Maria. This time, about their conversation. He was right of course, but he felt bad about challenging her values the first time he sees her in over ten years. It may have been a bit too much. He wanted to see her again, talk to her about something other than the war. He considered ringing her to his room, but he had nothing to ask for and could not think of a good excuse.

So he decided to find her. He got up and left his room, wandering out into the hallway. He looked down; a seemingly endless corridor, completely still. He turned the other way. He went down the steps, past the reception desk, acknowledging the old man as he went, and wondering if he actually existed past this specific point in space. He ventured off into another part of the inn, away from the rooms and towards the kitchen and washrooms. He could hear running water a few steps down; he followed the sound to find Maria standing in front of a large basin, carefully kneading a bed sheet with her fingers.

"Maria, hey." Paul said softly.

She looked up at him, continuing her kneading. "Paul…is there something you need?"

Paul chewed on his upper lip. "Well…no actually. I just wanted to talk to you, if you have a moment."

Maria paused her kneading. A good sign, Paul thought.

"I can get worked up over the war sometimes, you know." He continued. "I don't mean to get all preachy or anything."

"Everyone has to believe in something."

Paul found that to be a strange response to come from a neutralist, but then remembered she said she wasn't a neutralist. What was she then? Paul decided to just let the matter drop.

"The man down there…is that your father?" He asked. "I don't remember ever having met him."

She shook her head. "No. When I came here a few years ago, he took care of me. So I started working for him. He's like a father to me now…but not actually my real father."

"Oh." Silence for a few moments. "So, what made you decide to leave El Baz?"

Maria looked down, smoothing out her dress around her lap with her fingertips. "It was destroyed."

"Destroyed? El Baz?" Paul was stunned. "What happened?"

"Soldier Paul, did you ever stop to think about what was going on outside of your war? All the shots you fire during a battle that miss…where they might end up. What a random battle might do to a surrounding area. What a few rogue soldiers might do to pass the time."

"What do you mean? I know the enemy has run through a town or two to get to us."

"That holds true," Maria said, "no matter which side you're on. That wasn't what happened to El Baz though. There was a battle a few miles outside of town. A couple of random shots from that battle hit the town. Enough to flatten it, pretty much make it inhabitable. So whoever survived had to leave."

Paul bit his upper lip. "That's terrible. I'm sorry to hear that. But these things do happen. This is war."

"Yes. One that El Baz never asked for."

The old man's voice wafted over from the other part of the inn. "Maria! Maria! We have another guest!"

She stood up stiffly. "Excuse me again." She smiled slightly at Paul. "It was nice to see you again, soldier Paul Stevenson." She slowly left the room, leaving Paul to watch her go.

The morning light crept in through the window on the far side of the room. Paul was already up; he was running his hands under the faucet in the bathroom, and splashing the moderately warm water across his face. He wore his gray pants and boots, no shirt. He shut off the faucet and returned to the main part of the room. As he did, he could hear music nearby. It was faint, but definitely music.

"Is the network back up?" Paul wondered. He looked around the room, but could not recall having seen a radio. He then wandered over to the window, and looked outside. A little ways up the road, he could see Maria sitting on a large rock outside one of the stores. There was something small and silver in her hands, which she brought up to her mouth. Paul thought that he may have been hearing flute music. He was a bit surprised to find her awake this early, but he supposed that at an inn, she had to be up before the guests. Even a soldier.

Paul had decided to join her. He put on his black t-shirt and tucked it neatly into his pants. He grabbed the map and went downstairs. The old man was behind the counter again, reading the same book from before. It was as if he had never left that spot.

"Good morning sir." The old man greeting him.

"G'morning." Paul put the map on the countertop. "Thanks for the map."

"No problem at all. You find what you were looking for?"

"Yeah. I got separated from my unit a few miles outside of here. Its fairly neutral territory, so I can be retrieved without incident. I'm going to walk back out there and meet them from there."

"Coms should be up in a few minutes."

"Thank you." Paul turned to leave.

"Will you stay for the complimentary breakfast? Its free."

"Really? Aw, I'm gonna have to pass, sorry. After I contact my unit, I'll need to set out to meet them. They must think I'm dead, so I should probably get back with them as soon as possible."

"That's a shame. Maria makes a fierce pancake and scrambled eggs combo."

Paul smiled. "I'm sure she does." He left the inn. He could hear the music again; it was soft, and seemed to glide through the air. It reminded him of the way Maria moved. As he approached her, she didn't seem to notice him, but he could tell that she did.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked.

She said nothing; she only took the flute from her lips. Paul took a seat on the rock next to her. Maria put the flute down on her lap and smoothed out her dress again. This time it was off-white, with green trim. Neither spoke for a few moments. Paul stared off into space, while Maria played with her flute.

"Hey Maria," Paul said eventually, "do you remember the playground at the Educational?"

She smiled faintly. "Yeah. They'd give us an hour around noon to play and eat. It wasn't much more than sand and a few playground toys, was it?"

"No it wasn't. But that hour was what we lived for. At least for me anyway."

"It was nice to be able to chat with the girls at the merry-go-round. Usually about boys. Were you one of the boys who was always swing-jumping?"

Paul laughed. "That's right, I did do that, yes. I hurt myself so many times doing that."

"It was a perfectly good swing, and I don't see why you guys felt the need to fling yourselves out of it."

"It was fun! For that few seconds, when you're airborne, that was great. The feeling of sailing through the air, nothing connecting you to the ground. And then you hit the ground, and things go downhill from there."

Maria giggled. "Oh, I know. Who says I kept my feet planted on the ground too?"

Paul gave her a look.

Maria blushed. "Allright, so I tried it once. The girls and I didn't know why you boys liked to do it so much, so we decided to try it, see if there was some hidden appeal we were missing."

"…And?"

"And I damn near killed myself! I had no idea how to land and I think I hit the ground face first."

Paul grinned. "Well, you have to hit the ground with your feet, and then roll to absorb the impact."

"Well, I know that now."

They both smiled. There was silence again. Paul looked out in the distance.

"I used to hear stories," Paul said, "of how a long time ago, people grew up and lived in the same town all their lives. I used to think that was awfully boring, the same old town and people all your life. But it could be kind of nice. To watch people grow up with you. Shared memories. Familiar places. Things like that."

"I think so too." Maria rocked back, arching her neck towards the sky. "This used to be a pretty nice town. But the battles have been getting closer and closer, so people are leaving everyday. I suppose it won't be long until Daigo becomes a ghost town too. If it isn't flattened first."

Paul bit his upper lip. "If that happened…where would you go?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Well, how did you end up here?"

Maria looked away from him. "It was another lifetime ago." She paused, sighing. "Back when I was enlisted."

Paul nearly jumped. "You what? You're a soldier?"

"Like I said, another lifetime ago."

"…Which side?"

Maria looked down, her eyes burning a hole through her flute. "That's an RNA gun you were carrying yesterday. I've never seen one that close."

Paul stared at her intensely. Suddenly, he felt terribly uncomfortable. "Is this town…?"

"Both, actually. Or at least, used to be. That's why we say we have no sympathies. We're not neutralists. We're just…tired of fighting."

"Both." The very concept struck Paul as unnatural. "Both. But how?"

Maria breathed deeply, and closed her eyes. "A few years ago, I was in a battle not too far from here. Myself and one of the enemy got in a heated duel, which took us away from the main battle site. I eventually won, but afterwards I found that a town had been decimated in the wake. And immediately, I thought of El Baz. It was then when I realized that in this great push to decide who's right or wrong, neither of us actually were. Yeah, we had different beliefs, but we were trying to force them. And people were suffering. What good is being right then? Suddenly, it no longer mattered."

Paul looked away from her. She continued to smooth out her dress.

"Not everyone here had an experience like that though," she continued. "Some are just disillusioned. You should probably check to see if we have coms now."

Paul jumped. "What? Oh, coms."

Maria smiled. "And I have breakfast to make. But I don't believe the other guests are awake yet, and there's nothing worse than cold pancakes. So I think it can wait a while. Will you stay for breakfast?"

"I, uh, I don't know." Paul stood up. "I'll go check on coms." He left and headed back towards the inn, although the whole time, he was only barely aware that he was moving his feet.

As he crossed the threshold of the door to the inn, the old man looked up at him with a smile.

"There you are!" The old man said. "The network came back a few minutes ago. Coms is up."

Paul looked up at him. "Thanks." He stopped in the middle of the lobby, staring at the ground.

The old man peered at him quizzically. "Aren't you going to make your call?"

Paul continued to stare at the floor. His eyes were steadfast; as if he could actually see through it, see something he hadn't before.

"Actually," Paul said, "I was wondering if you have any orange juice."