Mara cleared the noise of the factory facility and made her way into the central-station of the city of Wakefield. It was here that Mara was confronted with a different sort of noise. The rumble of the crowd, thousands traveling to various destinations throughout the city. And then there were all the obnoxious screens that literally ran all along the walls and around every corner, blazing whatever entertainment was currently trendy. People who live and work in the central-station could apparently filter out what content they weren't interested in and focus on what gave them a mild distraction from their daily routine. Mara didn't understand how anyone could do that though. Traveling home through the central-station was like fighting through persistent static.

Already exhausted, Mara fought her way through the crowd with her heavy oxygen tank in tow. She knew the route to the transit-terminal like the back of her hand and she knew that she needed to be quick about getting there. Not a lot of transit-cars traveled to where she lived and the one she was rushing to grab was the last one of the day.

She pushed and shoved and, at last, she was there. She ran up the stairs to the terminal, took a quick glance at the schedule to confirm that she wasn't late, and bolted to the ticket kiosk. It was automated like most things in Wakefield and, also like most things in Wakefield, it was glitchy as hell. But, thankfully, it didn't take too many tries for Mara to get her ticket. After that, it was to the security desk to have her bag checked by Union-Security. It was tight but she made it.

Mara got onto the loading platform, breathing heavily from exhaustion, just as the transit-car pulled up. Hanging from the electric tracks, the transit-car came to a full stop at the loading platform and opened its doors for passengers. Mara scanned her ticket at the door as she walked in and quickly found herself a window seat near the rear of the car. Transit-Cars were long, capable of carrying a few hundred people at a time and were, naturally, completely automated. If Mara had shown up a few seconds late there would've been no driver to wait for her like they did when her parents were still young.

It wasn't a very full car. Only a few dozen more people loaded in as dozens of others stepped off. Mara was thankful for this because it meant that she could place the bag with her oxygen tank down on the seat next to her. There really wasn't enough room for it on the floor between her and the seat in front of her. Her entire body was sore from work but her shoulder was particularly thankful to not have the tank strapped on it. Mara took a deep breath and leaned back into the cushion of her seat. It would be a few stops before she needed to get off the car, she could afford a quick nap.

As soon as she closed her eyes, all she could see was Jose bleeding to death beneath her. His eyes fading away. Her heart started pounding in her chest. The shock and the trauma were quickly beginning to settle back in. Mara took a long, slow breath to try to regain control of herself...

"Good Evening, Wakefield!"

Mara jumped in her seat as the news broadcast continued on in front of her. "I'm Steven Lewiston of 'Wakefield Tonight' here with the news of the hour. Our top story tonight, as you all know, is the upcoming Rhea Day ceremony this Sunday. We have updates about the inbound delegation from Rome led by Colonel Basileus Ryker as well as the mayor's planned visit to the Memorial wall tomorrow. A visit that, surprisingly, will take place a day before the Colonel's arrival on Saturday."

It was always so easy to forget that every seat in transit-cars had their own personal media feed attached to the back of the seat in front of them. They would always switch off automatically when the passenger got up and then turn back on after leaving a terminal when it senses that someone was sitting in the seat. This also meant that the feed for the seat with the oxygen tank was on to, Mara quickly reached over and switched that one off by waving her hand in front of its sensor. She then leaned back into her chair as the news broadcast carried on.

"To explain these developments is Wakefield news correspondent, David Williams." The anchor, Steven Lewiston, explained as the broadcast went into a split-screen with the correspondent on the right side. "David, this is unusual, isn't it. Doesn't the Mayor and the Chancellor's delegate usually go to the memorial wall together prior to Rhea Day?"

"Well, the delegation is usually here by now." David answered. "But my sources have informed me that Ryker plans to visit Memorial Wall in Central Park on the morning of the Ceremony."

"Why is the delegation running late? Original reports had it coming today, and then that was changed to tomorrow, and now Saturday."

"The reason for that would be the last-minute decision to have Ryker as the Chancellor's representative. But we are now certain that the delegation will arrive Saturday afternoon and that Ryker will be able to attend the Gala being held in the Upper-Station that evening."

"What's the story behind Ryker being the representative?" The anchor asked. "As Director of Special-Operations, Ryker has always spent Rhea Day in Rome with Chancellor Sinclair. Why the sudden change?"

"I don't have an answer to that question. Up until a few days ago, it was the understanding of just about everyone that Ryker would be in Rome at the Chancellor's side, just as he had done since his appointment to Special Operations 10 years ago. News of the change didn't reach Wakefield until the delegation had already disembarked."

"Ryker has always been one of the Chancellor's top advisors. Has something changed? Has the Colonel fallen out of favor?"

"That's the real question, Steven. But news travels slowly from city to city and the answer hasn't gotten here yet. The last report I saw said that Rome was buzzing with rumors. But it's only rumors at-"

Mara switched off the news feed with a scoff. The anniversary of the greatest tragedy since the death of Earth is a few days away and Wakefield's finest journalists were using it as a platform to discuss court intrigue. Mara thought about how sickened her parents would've been by it. Though, if her parents were still alive, it probably wouldn't be happening at all. As two of Wakefield's most famous journalists, they held themselves to higher standards. Standards some people didn't like...but that was a long time ago.

Unable to sleep and having nothing else to do, Mara just looked at the window as the transit-car carried her across the central-station. The largest of the three unofficial sections of the city-station, central-station housed the majority of Wakefield's citizens. It was a labyrinth of platforms, tunnels, transit-lines, and tall buildings that ran vertically from the top of lower-station all the way up to the bottom of the upper-station. The buildings, in addition to housing citizens, acted as the support structure for the city-station as a whole. The platforms and tunnels house stores, gaming centers, and sports arenas. And between them all were various domes that house city parks where people could experience 'life before Earth was lost'. That was the tagline anyway though, from the pictures she had seen, Mara figured life on Earth was much more beautiful than any of the Wakefield parks.

As the transit-car continued it's route, Mara looked up to get a glimpse of the affluent upper-station, the home of the Wakefield government and its wealthiest citizens. Mara had never been up there and probably never will as the transit-car carried here lower and lower into the central-station. Before long, the upper-station was completely out of sight.

With each stop, the transit-car grew more and more empty. By the time it had arrived at her stop, Mara was one of only a small handful of people left. The automated PA system announced the name of the terminal, confirming that they had arrived at her stop. The doors opened and Mara forced herself out of her seat. After being able to rest in the seat after a day in the factory, standing back up was difficult. And picking up the oxygen tank was downright painful. But she powered through it and stepped off the transit-car.

The terminal in this part of Wakefield was much more run down than most. Half of the media-screens were either broadcasting broken up transmissions, static, or were simply broken down, and there were significantly less people...much less noise. Mara couldn't of been more relieved, no matter how many times she made the long journey home.

Not that there weren't any people on the terminal at all. A woman was standing by the stairway handing out flyers while saying, "The Earth is dead but the Goddess is not."

The woman extended a flyer to Mara who shook her head. "I'm not a witch."

"You don't need to be." The woman replied as Mara took the flyer. "It's just a meeting where we meditate and share positive energy with ourselves and the Goddess. We're all that's left of her garden, all that's left of her. We need to keep our spirits strong for her or she'll die with us."

"I'll think about it."

"If no harm done, do what you will." The woman said with a smile as the two parted ways.

Mara left the transit-terminal and continued downwards. Staircase after staircase, elevator after elevator, things grew more quiet as Mara approached the lower-station of Wakefield. She soon arrived at the maintenance shaft she had used at the start of the day to leave the lower-section. The city was a giant space-station, everything about it was artificial, so there had to various maintenance shafts and tunnels burrowed throughout the infrastructure to accommodate repairs for any large scale malfunctions.

These shafts and tunnels were now the only way to get down to the lower-section of Wakefield. Most of the elevators, stairways, and transit-lines have long been sealed off. Only a few emergency elevators were left operational, all of which required special access cards only members of the Wakefield construction department possesed. But that didn't stop people like Mara from living down there...even if they didn't really want to. But it was the only place didn't cost money to live in. Money she didn't have.

Mara set her bag down and opened it up. She attached a hose to the oxygen tank, a hose that had a mask on the other end. She put on the mask and twisted the valve on the tank, giving her the ability to breathe in the lower-station. She picked the bag back up, opened up the maintenance shaft, and made her way down.