Eric waited by the deck of his small outpost. It was a frosty day, but the sun would hit full force now and blast its way through the layers of ice that had formed during the night. They were already almost gone. Something those crazy aliens had been doing had really messed with the weather.

Eric sipped his coffee, a rare commodity, and watched carefully to the west. No one was really ever out in the desert anymore, his post was mostly pointless, but he couldn’t complain as long as he had a job and was kept out of whatever the Altruitins were doing with folks miles distant.

He stood and walked into the small building that also served as a small living quarters, sniffing for something to eat. He finally found a can of beans, one of his last bits of food until next week’s supply drop. He opened the can and set it atop his stove without ceremony, hitting the switch to ignite the pilot. He peered out the window as he did so, and became aware of something moving off in the distance. He ran to his dresser and grabbed his binoculars: what the heck could it be?

A man. A worn down dirty looking man. The only man Eric had seen crossing this desert in quite a long time. And he was headed right towards the outpost.

Eric got some things ready and prepared to meet this stranger.