Atlas Falls

And I Will Bear His Burden...

He watched the screen, hoping just shy of praying that it was a glitch. As if on cue, another notification appeared. Sensors detected a massive burst of energy somewhere deep below the surface of Safeharbor. Either something was failing, or something was waking up. He didn't know which outcome was worse. Within an hour, the entire fleet was mobilized and prepared for evacuation. The Elders of Autumn convened and unanimously declared a state of emergency. Scientists gathered to study the anomaly from afar. They came up empty-handed. This was a problem that needed eyes on site... "Activate Atlas Protocol."

Safeharbor is no mere rock floating in the void. It's a machine. The planet is hollow, the clockwork so far beyond us that we scarcely comprehend its most basic functions. We can't tell where systems start and stop. We can't even determine if they have a beginning, or an end to begin with. Perhaps it's all connected, each a fraction of the beating heart powering this world. Remove even the smallest component and the whole world dies.
This is what the Atlas Protocol was designed to prevent. It was the only condition of the truce between Safeharbor's government and the rebellious Wayfarers of yore. Should Safeharbor's internal systems fail, and conditions prove inhospitable for human life, the planet is to be evacuated, and the wayfarers called to descend into the depths of our planet wide city in an attempt to solve the problem.
It seemed agreeable at the time. The planet ensured our survival thus far, after all. Shortly after The Battle of The Pillars and The First War, the protocol was used and abused, though the wayfarers of Homebound didn't seem to care. They thrived in those deep dark places. The other wayfarers, however, barely understood the commitment they were making when they joined the initiative.

Oracle woke up to the sound of banging at the door. Stacy was frozen in place, terrified. Who would visit so late in the night? Oracle opened the door and a soldier stood before him, armed and confident.
"Can I help you?" Oracle asked.
"Mathew Locke?"
"That's my name," he replied with a halfhearted smile.
"Atlas falls. What is your response?"
"You're serious?" Oracle began. He turned back to his wife and the smile faded to a frown. She was hiding her fear, her disappointment. She wanted to spare him, but they both knew he could see it clear as day. This wasn't the first time.
He wondered what would happen if he refused. There were plenty of wayfarers on Safeharbor. Let them sort it out. Oracle gave a sigh. "Fine. I'll bear the burden."

---

Argus opened the door, an armed soldier staring back at her as she spoke "Yes?"
"Atlas falls." the soldier replied.
"Oh," Argus began. She heard Diavae approaching from behind. Argus turned and held out her hand. "It's okay. Sorry but I don't think I can get out of this. I gotta go."
Diavae looked past her, and grabbed the door to force it open. "What is this?"
"I don't answer to you ambassador," the soldier said, his Stoic demeanor cracking. He took a breath. "Francis Bors, Atlas falls. What is your response?"
Before Argus could speak, she felt Diavae tense up. Argus felt an urge to move. It was a strange feeling, standing between a predator and their prey. The soldier raised the rifle and Diavae laughed. "Francis. Step to the side."
Argus spun around and tried to push Diavae back. "No, Diavae. This is-"
"A little boy with little toys." They growled. Diavae's eyes were focused and the soldier was clearly shaken by the sight.
Argus reached out, her hands shaking. She shouted as she let her hand rest on Diavae's shoulder, "Mom, please."
They shuddered at her touch, or maybe it was her words. Diavae looked Argus in the eye, and Argus saw what might have been the precursor to tears.
Argus turned to the soldier. The man was shaking. "Atlas falls?" She began, "I will bear his burden."

Used and abused

The wayfarers lack organization, at least compared to that of the military. This makes communication difficult. It's not entirely clear how often the protocol has been used since its inception. It's confidential information.
One thing is certain: it's a number greater than zero, and not once has Safeharbor been evacuated. Perhaps these incidents were preemptive. Maybe the wayfarers managed to solve the problem before it was needed. It doesn't matter.
Every wayfarer fears those words: Atlas falls. What are they compared to titans? What could they do that others can't? The wayfarers come into contact with non-human technology on a regular basis. This gives them an advantage. The moment something goes wrong, they are the ones with the most experience.

---

Fear

The wayfarers fear what awaits them when they get there. There are dangerous creatures in the depths, not to mention unsafe and unstable ground. This isn't what makes their mission so horrifying. It's the prospect of delving into a dying planet that scares them.
The wayfarers venture down to remedy an ailing world. They go to cure what they can’t possibly diagnose. When they find the problem, it could take them weeks to find some way of patching it up and getting things working again. We didn't come to this planet expecting to find something that needed to be maintained.
This is the worst part of a wayfarer's job. Our survival as a species rests on their shoulders. Most of them are just kids, 20 somethings with little knowledge of the ways of the world. We humans have a habit of sending our young out to die. Sometimes it's a war, or maybe a disease. Sometimes the world itself is enough to kill. Civilization was a carnivorous beast of our own creation, preying on the sanity of our brightest youths.

Mouse stared out the window, checking the street outside for any signs of life. When she failed to make out a single soul, she closed the pair of rickety shutters, turned, and knelt beside her cot.
She reached for the floor, removing a metal panel. Reaching into the hollowed out space, she retrieved the bloodstained bible. She sat on the cot, nestling herself as close to the wall as she could. She rested her back in the corner to hide from anyone who would dare peek through the shutters.
She opened the book to where she left off, toying with the ribbon bookmark in her fingers as she read.
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness, for his name's sake
4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
She jumped at a furious knock at the door, her blood seething as the adrenaline flowed. She would have let out a shout if, in her moment of shock, she hadn't forgotten how to breathe.
She slammed the book closed, darted toward the hollowed space in the floor. And tossed the book in. She set the metal panel back into place, her head spinning as the banging continued.
She took a deep breath, her body breaking out in a cold sweat. She opened the door to a man with a rifle and military fatigues.
He nodded before speaking, his voice shifting between panic and controlled haste, "Rhey Thakur?"
"That's me." She replied, the words small and meek compared to his.
"Atlas Falls."
She narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Atlas falls. What is your response?"
Her eyes widened as she clasped her hand over her mouth. Was it a drill, she thought, they can't be serious.
She removed her hand from her mouth and rubbed the back of her head. Her mouth opened, but it took a moment to get the words out, "Then I will bear his burden."
The man nodded again. "Report to the bunker in Dawn immediately for briefing and assignment."
"Got it." She replied. She looked across the street and saw other soldiers, each knocking and delivering their message.
She stepped back inside and gathered the essentials. "What exactly happens if one of us says no?" She said. Looking back at the man.
He smiled and shook his head, "Quickly, please."
She stepped out onto the street, the roar of engines breaking what would otherwise have been a perfectly silent night. She saw a shuttle hovering just above the ground, the door opened. Jordan sat next to an empty seat, and mouse sped her way toward him.
The soldier followed close behind, and she soon found out why. She heard the faint sound of a struggle. She turned to see a wayfarer wrestling the rifle away from his messenger in a doorway.
The soldier pushed the young man back, aimed, and fired without hesitation. This time she shouted, screaming as the man flew back and out of view. Not a moment passed before the soldier fired again, and again.
The soldier following her spoke, his expression firm. "Does that answer your question?"