A warm blackness. 

The distant sound of a forest, the hum of insects. 

The blackness began to recede. Colour filtered in slowly. Details blurred then became sharper. As it became clearer, so did memory.

—---------------------

Dover. Where it had all began. 

The name of Professor Eugene Clintock seemed familiar. Yes, that was him there. 

This was the Institute of Technology, established before the disaster, still going strong even if its goal was now long term survival. 

The eye of memory saw the fennec draw back from his notes, bushy tail flicking idly, expression pensive. His ears flicked back once or twice. 

The design was perfect. It looked like a real horse. Current technological advances meant it was ten times stronger though. The uses were immeasurable. Now no one would have to plough rough sandy soil out in the blistering sun. Coupled with the new water distribution systems, the soil would recover. Things could grow again. The disaster could be undone. 

Then he frowned. A sound from somewhere in the laboratory and he stood up sharply, his pen dropped to the table.

Oh no. Not back to the drawing board again…

—----------------------------

The forest seemed loud. With clear vision came clear hearing and the insects weren’t so much a hum than a buzz. 

His long ears flicked in annoyance and he focussed on the trees. 

How long had he been here? Why had he been lying face down in the bushes and mud? It caked his tan shirt and shorts. 

Another frown and he ran a slender hand over the tracks of mud on his lower legs. It streaked on his calves and his black leather shoes were caked in it. 

He’d been running. He’d fallen over. But from what? And why? 

His head crackled with fresh agony, although that could have come from trying to remember so much at once. 

As he held his head to keep the sudden dizziness under control, he noticed it. 

Before him was a silvery white horse. It glistened and shone where dappled light from above fell on the beautiful metallic bodywork. When it raised a leg to gently paw at the ground, there was a very very slight metal sound on the edge of hearing. Its ear swivelled and then it turned its head to the side to watch him curiously. 

He breathed out softly, all pain forgotten. A memory shuffled to the front of his mind and he could hear himself almost breathe out the word ‘Zero.’

With some care, he stood up and made his unsteady way to the horse. The sunlight at this angle partly hid them but the coat was not as uniform as it appeared. The metallic sheen was a giveaway that this was no real horse and the thin lines at seams showed the joining of several panels. He rested his hand on the horse’s side and felt the gentle warmth of the internal machinery inside. It felt like being able to touch a previously untouchable divine being. 

‘Your name is Zero.’ 

Now he smiled and the same reverence in that one touch was echoed in another. He reached up to the broad equine face and looked into an eye. A near perfect execution of an equine’s eye, he recalled. The biology books had been clear on that. The slitted eye however had one thing a normal equine one wouldn’t have, a reddish backlight that was hard to see in this light. 

He’d said it wasn’t perfect then but it was better than nothing. It was hard to perfect the eyes of mechanical animals and echo what the real thing could have been like. Here though, it seemed right. Maybe he’d been too harsh on himself. He should have taken Zero out into the actual daylight than relied on the artificial stuff of the laboratory. 

He traced over the seams. Zero seemed unbothered by it. The fennec breathed out as he ran over construction lines that were there one moment, gone the next. Smooth as butter. You’d never know they were there. 

How he wished he were as perfect as Zero. His mind had had this design in mind for days, months. The first several had been rough but necessary, he did recall that much. Perfection hadn’t come instantly, as much as he liked it to. With each new version of Zero, the more developed and more sound it was. 

And finally here, his creation looked far better than it had ever done in the laboratory. It was made for the outdoors.

He frowned with the surface turned rough. Traces of dried mud on the flank. It ruined the moment of blissful reverence. A moment of imperfection in the divine.

‘Zero… How?’ He searched the equine eye for an answer but it was useless to ask. The horse was not programmed to answer. ‘Doesn’t matter. We’ll find a stream, get you cleaned up. And me for that matter.’ He shook his head. ‘Looks like whatever was chasing us has gone. Let’s go.’

Zero remained where it was. The fennec looked confused then another memory pinged him a reminder. He fumbled in his pocket and found something. It was a small palm-sized device with a few buttons. Realisation dawned as he selected another mode. Yes, that was it! If they remained still long enough they entered DORMANT mode. You had to switch them into ACTIVE. 

Not perfect either. He’d work on that. It was a miracle this device hadn’t been damaged. 

Zero trotted forward. His heart leapt for joy. The fennec beamed and started to walk alongside. ‘I think I hear a stream nearby. Not far now!’

—----------------------------------

‘EQUUS-01 Test: Calibration of the extra-muscular system number 21.’

Eugene paused in his voice recording. He switched the camera onto ready on the touchscreen before him then took a step back to start the process. It was to lift one leg, paw the ground then down. Rinse and repeat. 

Always start simple, he’d said. The very first tests had been head movements. Side to side, up and down, nodding, that sort of thing. He’d spent a week on a head nod alone. It had looked too rough, too quick, far from natural. It had to look right as though you were looking at a horse. 

He ignored the presence of the other beside him as he watched the limb raise, bend at the joints and- 

Abruptly he pushed stop, The limb settled back into place with a metallic creak. 

‘Result: Recalibration with lower joints as required and re-test.’ 

The recording was stopped. Eugene sighed and began glancing at the readouts. The one beside him coughed politely. The fennec looked up into the kindly face of a brown-furred bear with a greying hairline and moustache. Sten was in his twenties, like Eugene, but it seemed nature had decided he’d go grey early. 

‘Heywood, I’m sorry! I just wanted to finish this, that was all.’ Eugene looked sheepish, adjusting his lab coat. 

Heywood waved dismissively. ‘Call me Sten. I keep telling you. And please, I know what you’re like. Thorough to the last.’ He chuckled then. ‘I saw that. The last joint didn’t bend as it should.’

Eugene nodded and sighed. ‘Something’s not connecting. I’ve done so many recalibrations, isolated so many things…’ He ran his hand through his hair and tapped the screen at the offending joint. ‘This is where it falls apart.’

Sten Heywood’s speciality was in plant biology so had no experience to offer but he knew Eugene Clintock well enough. The fennec wasn’t as highly strung as many of his kind but he had a peculiar hyperfocus on robotics and nanotechnology. Nanotechnology was pretty far developed but only in places. Out there, in the dry deserts and mountains of what had been the United Kingdom, it was unknown. In facilities such as here in Dover, it existed as a luxury. Soon that would hopefully not be the case. 

For Sten, his work was more along the lines of heritage plants and adapting them to the desert-like heat outside. It was a mammoth task in itself and when these creatures (who required no food or water and thus removed a major expense for most farmers) could till the recovered soil, it’d be a lifesaver. 

Of course they had to get there first. 

Sten placed a large but gentle paw on Eugene’s shoulder. 

‘Just go easy on yourself. Have you eaten yet?’

‘I am, I mean I will. Thank you.’ Eugene blinked at the question. ‘Er, no. But I really should-’

‘You really should eat something. You’ve been working on this for three hours. I’m off for a break myself. Come on.’

The break room wasn’t far. The facility was sprawling but rooms were scattered enough that you were never far from a rest room. Be it a need for a nap, to read something, anything other than research, the rooms were considered an essential. 

In this one, the radio played quietly. It was music from the year 1989 the announcer had said. Eugene wondered if anyone from that year could ever have predicted the disaster that would befall with terrible slowness in the next 20 years. 

He checked the calendar date on the wall. 6 June 2060. 

Sten put some sandwiches in front of him. ‘Here. Beef and synthesised horseradish. We’re working on the real thing though.’

Eugene took them gratefully. He found that in fact he did feel rather hungry. The first one was devoured in seconds. 

‘Told you.’ Sten smirked. ‘You know, your work with making the equines is admirable. But I have to ask. Why them?’

Eugene paused, ears dipping as they did when he was thinking. ‘They were important. Marty’s working on the bees and he said they were important too. In all the old documents, there was stuff about saving the bees. But horses, equines… People loved them. They guided civilization for centuries. Ever seen the Uffington horse?’

They both had, albeit briefly. It had awed Eugene especially. Somehow the chalk outline had remained preserved and he’d last heard it had been given another chalk scouring in case of erosion or damage. It had warmed him to know that a simple chalk outline of a horse on a hill was still considered, in these times, to be essential. Essential enough that even now, people still went with buckets of chalk to tidy it up. 

‘So if they had that sort of significance, it seems right to continue to respect that.’ Eugene continued, one hand waving expansively. His tail flicked back and forth excitedly. ‘And at least ours won’t require food, so they’ll be a good investment!’

Sten laughed. ‘It is good to see you haven’t lost your enthusiasm for the project! I’d be careful of burning yourself out though, alright?’

Eugene grinned. He said he had no intention of ever doing that. And when he did get back to work, he found out what had been happening too. Maybe the break had been necessary after all.

—----------------------------------

The stream was nearby. Only a few minutes away, the bubbling of the water reached his ears and he sighed in relief. 

Eugene glanced around but saw nothing and no one else. It was just them. Danger was rarely from animals now in any case. People were scarce enough as it was. 

He’d only ever lived in the underground facility at Dover. It had an upper part but he’d rarely visited what they called up top. Of course he’d made visits with a retinue of fellow scientists and security. He remembered with fondness several visits to a village to demonstrate agricultural techniques and the prototype EQUUS-01 (A). That had been in Sussex but he couldn’t place the name. Ah well. It had been one of the better memories of being on the surface. 

But why was he up top now? He had tried to remember and just couldn’t.

In the meantime, Zero watched him. 

‘Just checking we’re safe.’ He patted a shoulder gently and couldn’t help but run his hand over the smooth contours. He’d done a good job. He could have sworn Zero felt almost alive. Not that it wasn’t, but alive in the sense of a real live animal. 

It was the sunlight on the metal. That was it.

It felt silly but to strip naked, revealing a lithe and moderately fed complexion beneath the tan clothes, still felt indecent. In the back of his mind, anyone could see. In the facility, anyone could have undressed in the public bathing areas and it felt less shameful. Everyone knew each other and knew not to stare, even if he still preferred privacy. Out here, he could be judged or, if the mud was any indication, captured while appearing vulnerable.

‘There’s no one here. We’re just going to get cleaned up.’ He said it more to reassure himself than anything. 

He stepped into the shallow stream and scooped up some water. First his calves, having the most mud on them. Then up to his arms where mud streaked and some scars from a tumble in the bushes. Negligible but a couple would linger for a few days. Then he found a clump of moss. It’d do as a sponge. 

‘Come here, Zero. Let’s get this mud off you.’ The horse obeyed, and Eugene set to work. The smooth contours of the flank were his guide. 

It took several washes and soon the mud was gone. 

That was another thing. They were waterproof. That was why the seams were a major focal point in development. They had to allow for movement but not enough to let anything in. That alone had taken months. 

One last stroke of the flank and he stepped back. ‘Much better’, he said in hushed tones. 

‘I know you’re meant to be a working horse but something about seeing you like I intended…’ He tailed off, aware that if anyone could have heard him, they’d have thought he was about to proposition his own creation. But there was no one here. He could be as loud as he wanted.  ‘You won’t understand but I put hours, days and even years into you. I didn’t do any of that so you could look like you’d been damaged.’ 

He chuckled then. ‘You can also dry off quicker than I can. You’re going to have to wait for my fur to dry so we can find some sort of civilization!’

It felt good to talk unabashedly. He did give his shoes a wipe as well and when that was all dry, he dressed again and they set off again. The only sound after he left was the babbling of the stream and the hum of insects. 

—-------------------------

‘I don’t like it.’

Sten muttered as they left the large meeting room. Not a soul who’d been in there had felt positive about why they were called in. 

The Dover outpost, bunker, most of all home, it was by and large unknown. Very few knew about it but now things were changing. There’s been an attack by enterprising bandits, they’d been told. The rudimentary defences had seen the small band off but two days ago a bigger attack had been mounted. 

Eugene felt his hands wringing as they did when he was anxious. It was usually more noticeable with him because it didn’t take much to get him nervous. 

‘Sten? Do you think they’ll get in?’ He clapped a hand over his muzzle when he realised how squeaky he sounded. If Sten had noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

‘Honestly? No. But there’s a part of me that’s worried.’ The bear sighed. ‘I know this sounds crass to say but they don’t have the tech to force their way in. In a way, this is our saving grace. But on the other hand, we haven’t updated our security in years.’

Eugene nodded then bit his lip. They really hadn’t. Nothing defensive was even updated in the mistaken belief that the outpost was so out of the way that no one would bother them. 

It had all been built under buildings that he’d been told had once housed huge planes that flew. When it had happened, no one came by any more. It had been largely taken for granted that safety was assured, but not any more. 

‘So when they talked about how to improve that…’ He tailed off, both knowing full well what was going to happen.

Sten paused and patted Eugene’s shoulder. ‘Hey. You can still work on Zero. But maybe not so much. Think of it as.. You’re safeguarding a future.’

The fennec knew Sten was being kind. But the reality was that he’d be drawn into building up defences. That took time away from other things, like Zero.

Everyone would be worried about their own research. That was normal, but then again, he realised that maybe he had become a little insular. It was a danger with any science. You grew obsessed to the point of being blinkered. It took everyone around you to make it clear that one project could not exist without another. 

It reminded him of Captain Ahab from Moby Dick. It was easy to see that the man was unhinged, obsessed even,  and thought he should have stopped, but that was easy from the outside. In a way, all of them here were inclined to the same way, they were all individually potential Ahabs with the white whale of their own research. 

Eugene felt himself calm down. ‘Okay. It’s a switch from what we normally do but I know it’s for the best.’ It was more to reassure himself than anything but he had a feeling that Sten had needed to hear that too. The bear was as pacifist as you could get. 

‘Right.’ Sten managed a grin. ‘Okay. Let’s go to the ready room. I think someone has a plan.’

—---------------------- 

Memory was starting to flood back. He wasn’t sure why but something about what he was remembering was making his eyes water with tears of delayed sadness. The worst was that he had no idea why he should be sad. He still had no real clue why he was out here for that matter.

It was all a mess. The more he remembered, the more he had questions to ask. The bandit attacks he had started to recall had been frequent. They were still held off. But after that? It was a blur.

He sighed and wiped his eyes. ‘I should have put a record function in you. Maybe then I’d actually remember why we’re here.’ 

He was riding Zero now. His feet were sore but Zero had stamina and energy for days, years even. It was powered by nuclear energy that had been compacted in such a way it was as safe as safe could be. It was never truly safe, but he had the Milton siblings to thank for that. It had been the biggest breakthrough yet before…

Before what? 

Zero’s metallic snort of warning drew him out of his reverie. ‘Sorry Zero. We should be more careful.’ Eugene rubbed the back of his head nervously. ‘This road’s pretty long. We’ll need to stop before it gets dark.’ 

It was stupid, he thought. I’m talking as if it understands me. But it does. But.. It's not stupid. Because if I don‘t, I’ll just spiral and I don’t have Sten here to stop that.

The tears threatened to return. Sten. He missed the bear terribly. He hoped that with what had happened, whatever it was, that the bear was safe. 

A strange sound caught his attention. He urged Zero into the side of the road as a loud and persistent buzzing filled the air. It grew louder as it drew nearer and then stopped suddenly as the source of the sound stopped beside him.

It was a motorbike, at least if the pictures he’d seen from books was any guide. It had two wheels, handles, a seat and a motor, so it had to be. It had a skull on the front over the lights, and a tail on a pole at the back. They were supposed to have died out when the fuel shortages began so seeing one here in the flesh and actually working meant that he might have stared a little too long in confusion and awe before its owner shouted for his attention. 

‘Hey! Ya dumb or what? Get out of the road before the sun goes down!’

Eugene blinked then took his attention off the vehicle. ‘Er, what?’

The vehicle’s owner huffed then stood up. The motorbike remained standing. Once the helmet was lifted, it was clear the voice belonged to a fractious-looking shrew who was a foot shorter than him. His half tail, looking as though it had been chewed, wagged near-uselessly behind him. His brown fur was stained in all sorts of colours, although it was possible some of it was grease. He was clothed all in dark brown leather with the exception of a fur about his shoulders. 

Eugene almost startled himself off Zero’s back, as much by the shrew’s appearance as by his attitude. ‘Oh! Sorry! Yes, before the sun sets. Good plan.’ 

The shrew rolled his eyes. ‘Listen kid, sorry I scared ya. But this is open space, see. Ya get stuck out here, you’re as good as bandit food.’ He gave Zero a onceover with a critic’s eye. ‘Good beast you got there. Not seen a runfast in years. But if you want yer beast to live tonight, ya gotta hide.’

Runfast? ‘Oh this? This is Zero. It’s a horse. I have no idea what a runfast is.’ Eugene looked awkward. ‘Um. I also don’t know where to go. I think London’s this way. I know I have to get there.’

‘Then you’ll be walking for days. London’s at least two week’s travel, more if ya walk.’ The rider squinted at him. ‘I don’t know where you’re from, kid, but here’s my advice. Get going now. Find a building, any building. Scout it out then bed down. But make sure ya sleep with one eye open.’ 

The helmet was placed back on the broad scarred head then the goggles tugged down to obscure the eyes. Eugene stared at him as he left, feeling as bereft as before.

‘What's a runfast?’ He said to the air in general. 

—---------------------

It was nearly nightfall. This in itself was strange. He knew what it was. The facility had simulated it to help the brain cope and it had all been manual. Here it happened by itself and he was still unused to it.

There was a building up ahead. It was a rectangular building and out front was a long ceiling supported by pillars. Except it had no walls and below it was several canisters connected to long hoses and pumps. The sign on the ceiling and building said Esso. 

‘Look Zero. I think we got our shelter for the night.’ He rubbed his belly. ‘Er. And hopefully something edible I can have.’

It was stunning out here. The simulations underground were creative in their own way but this was something else. It looked like a painting. The bright red hues gave way to pinks and purples, dark clouds drifting over then finally looking higher still, the blue of space far above. It was one of the most beautiful sights he’d ever seen. For the few times he had been up top, things like this never failed to take his breath away.

He looked down. The play of colours danced across Zero’s back and face too. He smiled. 

‘You’ve never looked better. Walk on. You heard what he said.’

The building was deserted. Unfortunately, any food it had would either be inedible or had been stolen a long time ago. 

Someone had been here though. Amidst the overturned shelves, scrap and debris, a cooking spit had been set up and the room that he assumed must have been a storeroom had discarded bedding. It looked recent but not so recent whoever had been here was in a rush to get back. 

One thing was at least edible, even if not to his taste. Disturbing some of the bedding had prompted a few roaches the size of his foot out. He’d yelped and stamped down. When it was apparent they were dead, he caught his breath and looked down. Just your usual roaches. A little bigger but just that. That was fine. 

‘If this is how they live up here, no wonder they envy us underground.’ He looked to Zero who’d stepped in after him, remaining still while watching him. ‘I’ll get these cooked, I guess.’ 

That night was peaceful, if by that you didn’t count anyone entering, passing or otherwise visiting. He slept after a while but not before more recollection came. 

—---------------------------------

The atmosphere had been on edge. Scientific outposts like this were not seen as viable targets for bandit activity. In fact, there had been a marked lull in that alone for ten years. There had to be a reason they were striking now and that was what had everyone confused. 

Eugene listened to the talks. The leadership clearly had had more tabs on the topside than he’d expected. Maybe he had been a little more insular and overly busy with his own work than he knew. Sten had mentioned a few things about being topside and how much of a mess it still was but then again he had to go up a lot more for his research, so he was a lot more used to it than perhaps anyone. Eugene’s area of study was more long term but a visit had been upcoming. It was in fact only a week before he’d be due up again with Zero Two, a prototype based on his own Zero. 

It seemed less and less likely to happen now. 

He’d been excited about going. Zero Two was in beta testing phase but you couldn’t test half the things he wanted underground. Zero Two needed to be attached to a plough, track through mud, stand in the sunshine, all to test variables that later models would be put through. A farm had expressed interest and if this went well, so had another. 

It would be like the Industrial Revolution all over again.

Eugene would never say he was fame-hungry. If anything, he’d probably be rather bashful if recognised. He’d accepted this carried a degree of recognition and hoped Sten would be just as recognised for his crop work. But even so, in thinking that, he would never say he particularly looked to fame. 

Besides, he didn’t want to get too excited in case this all failed. 

Now it looked as though they’d never be able to go. 

Dad had been kind enough about it but it was clear it hurt as much for him. ‘I’m afraid it’s very much a chance of waiting. Wait and see, I believe it goes,’ he’d said rather gloomily. 

Now Eugene took more interest in the outside world. He was going to be out there for a couple of months at least, the longest he’d ever been topside. He had to know the dangers. 

‘... And so, nonessential trips are paused for now. That especially goes for any Heritage projects. There’ll be more updates to come. Keep tabs on your messages. Thank you.’

Two days later an update did get posted. He was testing the calibrations for Zero Two when it came through. Putting his pen down, he went to check the second screen nearby, rolling his chair across the floor to tap at the screen. 

‘All trips are off.’ 

Eugene turned to see a stony-faced Sten in the doorway. ‘I hadn’t read it yet.’

‘I'll summarise.’ Sten looked so downcast. Eugene nodded to let him continue. ‘They figured out a way to cut our power. You’d think primitives like that wouldn’t be able to beat our measures but they did. So it’s all hands on deck to fix whatever damage they did and no trips out at all. We don’t leave unless it's evac.’

For a moment, both stared at each other. The fennec then turned to the body of the message onscreen then sighed. 

‘We shouldn’t have been so complacent.’ He stood up and patted the despondent bear on the shoulder. ‘Mean my trip’s gone too. And I think Marsh had a few for his project.’

‘Yeah. He, er, had the idea of gathering samples for the genetic diversity of frogs if I recall.’ Sten nodded. ‘You’re trying not to say it. But we both know it. It’s not getting any better. If I were you, I’d prepare for an evac. I’m going to.’

It was probably just as well. Two days later the evac was ordered. Eugene’s parents were sent out in the first wave. He was in the second wave and Sten the third. 

He took Zero with him. 

—---------------------------------------

Dawn traced its many red and yellow hues across the sky. Eugene was already up and had found a makeshift bag to stow his cooked meat in. 

As memory returned, he bitterly remembered that his bag of rations had been lost in the forest. There was little point in going back. He’d have to rely on luck for the rest of his supplies from here on in. 

As night gave way to a chilly but brilliant dawn, he crouched by the door, then snuck out to check the outer shop part. Besides him, there was no sign of any other person. He headed back in to activate Zero and start on the trip to London. 

Atop Zero, the ride was quite pleasant. They had to divert into another forest that grew about a stream. It was more an oasis, a brief respite, but he needed water. His water bottle had been lost hours ago but a plastic bottle in some good shape was cleaned out then filled up. The oasis even had some apples growing. A little bitter but he’d do something with those to make them taste better. 

He’d never known what it was like before. His parents hardly talked of it. They had talked of green fields, forests and trees but that was if you were very lucky. Now it was all a passing memory. After they came to Dover, they hadn’t seemed so inclined to talk of ‘up top’.

He’d been told that the whole isle was a desert and that the very land cried out for a saviour. The Dover facility had been set up and hidden away, for its members to come out and do what they could to save it. It was practically their very mantra that they make life bearable again. 

It was becoming obvious that although harsh, life out here was not as terrible as he thought. He’d seen farms when they’d tested out crops and of course, his own units. They’d been shaken by natural disasters but they clung on, the owners determined to make each day count. Banditry was not uncommon but despite its dangers, it was still considered a worthwhile risk.

In other words, he realised, people lived. It wasn’t a complete disaster out here. 

The day passed uneventfully. As did the next day, and the one after that. It was travel, rest, eat, find shelter, travel and so on. It took him two more days to realise the road he was on a main road. All roads lead to London he reasoned so all he had to do was follow it. 

Each sunset and sunrise was a good sight. He found it stirred his soul in ways it never had below ground. It made all this worth the trip. 

It was after these uneventful days he met the first friendly face in ages.