It was bedlam; utter chaos. Yelling, screaming, crying, sobbing, and all the cars and trucks both streaming past at breakneck speed and broken or bogged down in the mud.

Most of us had already learned that of the drivers of the motor vehicles, only the drab green vehicles driven by the nations remaining military cared about hitting anyone. The bodies were dragged from the treacherous roads and left there. Sometimes they were rifled; you never could tell who might have a ticket, after all.

Dad, and I turned the corner carefully, and saw it; just as it appeared on television.

The Ponce De Leon, final of the colony ships. Sitting right on the ground, unlike the others that were built in orbit, it was made predominately of alien technologies with much of the remaining resources on the planet. Sludow Technology to us, though they told us the tech was actually a mix of technology and ideas from other races. It looked the part, a weirdly shaped lozenge with oddly angled protrusions of unknown purpose.

It was salvation, and it was close.

Too close, judging by the crowd. The fear, the desperation, was evident. The crowd surged against the walls, great constructs of chiseled stone and reinforced steel. I could still see the scars of the fourth and seventh attack on them, and the attack on the gates themselves. They were manned by the military of every country that was still a country, who walked the top with grim eyes and ready weapons.

I pulled my shabby jacket tighter and followed my Dad as he did his best to forge the path. The important thing was to look like we weren't rich, influential, or important, Dad had said days ago. It seemed he was right; the line was enormous, and full of people who were dressed very well.

If you looked closely, you could spot the ones who were eating well too, marking the real rich instead of the thieves and vultures trying to fake it. Of course both groups were well armed, and both were on the lookout for our kind; for people like Dad and me.

You couldn't even get in with work passes anymore; too many people had killed others, both legitimate workers and passengers alike; now the workers lived inside the fence and other arrangements had been made for passengers.

There, near a burned out truck, marked with some graffiti we'd been told to look for; a man in rags huddled around a fire. Dad hadn't seen it, so I stomped his foot and pointed with a finger on my chest.

As we got close, slowly, the man stood up; under his ragged coat came the black gleam of a very expensive sub-machine gun - something that it was unlikely a homeless man would keep, even in this day and age.

"Come warm yourselves by the fire, strangers." He stated clearly.

My response was to put my left foot over my right and fake a trip. when he moved to catch me, one handed, I pressed a hard plastic chip in the form of an octogon in his hand; my boarding pass.

"You alright?" he asked me, looking past me where the people milled. I hoped none of them were paying attention but I didn't dare check.

I heard a faint beep come from the man's arm, and he nodded. "Follow me" he whispered, and then all but yelled about the need to find a doctor to look at my ankle because I was a clumsy idiot. He slurred his words and shuffled around... but all of that changed when he got to the other side of the truck.

The other side of the truck faced the wall; not close enough to make climbing it possible, and the drag marks were still pretty evident. But on then other side, were two more homeless that weren't, and I thought I could spot twice as many guards at this section of the wall then the gates themselves.

Our guide ducked low, into a cardboard box, and vanished. I was about to follow when a hand emerged and pulled me in. The guide loomed before me, a finger on his lips. I nodded.

The cardboard box hid a hole cut out of the back of the oil tanker. The interior was dimly lit with a series of screens showing the area around the tanker. There were cots for three in the corner, and two crates off to the side, forming a kind of barricade. In the other corner was what looked and smelled like a dead dog.

A moment later Dad came in behind me, looking around and holding his nose. Behind him, one of the men from just outside, one hand on my Dad and one hand gripping a very modern looking black gun.

The man looked around, then grinned. "Whew, old Rover gets more fragrant every time I step in here."

"That's not true, Reynolds, and you know it." The first said, turning to one screen and moving my pass under it. It beeped, and the screen switched to show my face and vital stats, as well as the fact that I'd passed all the tests. The man turned back to me and looked right into my eyes a long moment... then pinched my face, painfully.

"Right, all on the up and up here. Sorry, some people have tried masks before, as well as contacts to foo the retinal scans. So we have to go old school and actually use people. Everything checks out.

The man then turned and scooted himself over to the dog; lifting the entire thing up revealed it was nothing more than a very realistic fake, with a ladder underneath the trap door.

The second man winked. "No animals were harmed in the making of this passage."

"Knock it off, Reynolds." The first man said with annoyance clear in his voice. A did something else, unhooked a wire. Then he turned to me, and his tone softened - with respect? "After you, sir."

"Thank you, sir." Clearly this man at least was a soldier.

There was gloom below me, darkness uncut by any hint of light. I started down into it and a sharp light snapped on, harsh and bright. The ladder went down about ten feet into a crude earthen tunnel, propped up with large slabs of rough wood.

And there, next to my head, was what could only be a shaped charge of explosives. What the soldier had just disarmed. In case of discovery, I suppose.

I set foot on the ground below, and looked up to find the soldier right behind me, or above me. I was right, I saw with relief; his boots were ragged, but his pants were clearly fatigues, and of my country.

I moved before he could come down on me. The soldier waved a hand in the air and then started forward, his gun slung behind him. "Come on, it looks bad, but it's safe enough."

We were heading in the direction of the wall, lights snapping on ahead of us, and snapping off behind us. I looked, and my father smiled as he urged me ahead. Behind him the other soldier walked, his gun also out of sight but his manner serious.

I was grateful for that, I'd heard stories of people fooled before, and their fate.

A sign nailed into one of the support beams announced I was now under the wall; it had a smiley face and a peace sign under the words. Our guide kept going without stopping.

The last light snapped on, and we came to the end; another ladder, set against hard packed dirt.

"Alright, up you go." my guide stated, turning to me.

"What about you?" sudden cold fear hammered my heart. The last thing I wanted was to go up into the waiting arms of bandits or worse; I had heard the stories.

The guide shook his head. "If I head up I'll probably get shot as a deserter. Reynolds can't go up either."

Assuming this wasn't a scam, they were that strict?!? "but you're helping them!"

The guide blew a breath. "I didn't pass the tests. Neither did Reynolds. And we both don't have clearance, so we aren't allowed past the wall, for any reason."

I turned to my Dad, who was staring at the ladder; Reynold's large hand on his shoulder.

"Dad...?" My Dad hadn't passed those tests either.

"Go on son, we knew it would come to this eventually."

I rushed back and into his arms. He patted my back awkwardly; he had never been as close to me as Mom.

It didn't matter, this was wrong. I should stay with him; he would die alone, otherwise. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back.

"You need to go. You need to try to live, for both of us. For humanity."

My view of him swam in my tears before I wiped them away. My Dad matched the motion, then smiled. "Go on Son. We can't take too long."

I climbed. My last view before shoving the hatch aside was my father, looking longingly at the ladder.

Going through the hatch was like stepping into another world; everything was white and clean, with tile and unblemished glass. I held my pass up so there were no misunderstandings.

Even the voice coming through the speakers set into the walls of this little room was sanitized. "Please take off your clothes."

Well I guess I was actually at the right place. I set my backpack behind me and undressed; the water that hit me next was hot, smelled vaguely like disinfectant, and was almost stinging in it's force. I didn't worry, my backpack was waterproof.

Then it switched to cold for a full minute, and I was clean.

A large fluffy towel slid it's way into the room from a slot in the door as soon as the water cut off. "Dry off. Dress in the clothes provided."

Oh, there were clothes under the towel - they looked like medical scrubs, dark blue in color - and were more clean than anything I had.

I dried carefully and put them on. The voice rang again when I bent to get my pack.

"Stop. Do not worry about your belongings, they will be checked and repacked for your convenience and brought to you. It is far more important you stay as clean as possible, to avoid contamination."

Well, they had the guns. I hoped they would leave my album alone. Thousands of pictures detailing my family, our past, and the places we had lived, going back almost a thousand years. It was the only thing I had left of home. The clothes and toiletries would be no great loss if they didn't make it.

"Any weapons?" The voice asked.

They knew that one already; I could see the cameras. "None."

The door lock clicked. "Dry the soles of your feet, then step out."

I did as instructed, finding the light in my face, blinding me. By the time it was cleared and I could make out details I could easily have been killed.

The first thing I saw when I blinked the stars out of my eyes were the two gunman in American military fatigues, both giving me hard stares and not quite pointing their guns at me.

Just behind those was a young woman, perhaps twenty-five, with light brown hair cut short, and a cute face sporting a plastic smile. Her figure was slim but mostly hidden by the pink scrubs she wore. She had a nametag that read: "Emily"

"I'm Emily," she announced uncessarily. "Welcome to point Z, Mr. Stone."

"I'm Daniel; my father is Mr. Stone." I said absently. Point Z was apparently a room that was a twin to the one I just left, with a sort of reinforced door at the other end of it and fewer water nozzles in the ceiling.

She didn't skip a beat. "Right then Daniel, can you hold your pass out ofr me?"

I did and one of the soldiers walked yup warily and took it, silently.He walked backwards to where Emily was waiting for it.

"Have you guys had a lot of trouble with this route?"

"No, we haven't had a single breach," Emily replied. The soldiers both stayed silent. "But you can never be too careful where the fate of all humanity is involved, I've found."

Which meant there had been 'breaches' somewhere, and probably other than the attacks and riots on the wall itself.

Emily strung a fine chain into a clamp, then crimped it onto my pass. "Um, don't you need to check it?"

Emily grinned. "Already done. You were checked outside, and then again in the clean room, right down to the genetic level. You are without a doubt Daniel Stone, sixteen, male, the proper owner of this pass, and quite healthy."

Both soldiers stayed silent, but they lowered their weapons further, and there was less hesitation to approach in order to hand my pass back.

"Wear that around your neck; it's your safe passage." Emily ordered, and I scrambled to do just that as she turned.

"Follow me; don't worry about your belongings, they will be searched for contraband of course, but anything legal to keep will be returned to you."

Now i felt guilty. "I feel I should tell you there is a multi-tool in my bag, complete with knife and saw. It's legal, but... "

"But can be considered a weapon," one of the soldiers interrupted surprisingly. "Don't worry kid, we have to confiscate it but you'll get it back at the end of the funhouse ride."

I wasn't actually worried about getting it back; it was a nice tool, but tools for us to do our jobs had been promised for us once we made planetfall. Wherever that would happen.

Both soldiers stayed behind as I followed Emily out the door.

There was a hall beyond it, made of glass and steel, with what looked to be a vault door on the other end. The windows were darkened, and impossible to see through.

"Easy to get lost, eh?" Emily said, turning back with a grin as she spun the wheel.

The door clicked open and swung wide. Beyond it was a fantastic sight; a thriving, bustling, town. Almost a city. That it was military in origin, that there were men in fatigues of various countries rushing to and fro, carrying loads or papers or pads, several buildings including a recognizable store and even barber shop.

A snapshot of society. The last snapshot, the last hurrah of orderly human society on Earth. And above it all, the Ponce De Leon, the gleam from the sun on it's hull painful at this distance. It looked much larger from this side of the wall.

Emily handed me a handkerchief; it was clean, freshly laundered, with just a hint of a complex perfume, "Impressive, isn't it?"

I dabbed my eyes gratefully. "It certainly is."

"Keep it. I have more."

I pocketed the thing. "Thank you."

Soldiers marching by, even foreign ones, took one look at me and nodded, respectfully.

"Well, your hair is a little shaggy but you don't need a haircut. Clothes are covered, food will be covered - are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"A bit thirsty is all. All those dorms?" I asked, pointing at what looked like apartment buildings.

"In a way," Barracks on the ground floor, living quarters for the rest of us on the upper floors. And by us, I mean the people who make this whole process work. You'll be staying somewhere different."

Emily grinned like a cat, wide and knowing.

"Right, water it is then. Then we will get you all checked in."

Emily started off in the direction of the store and I rushed to follow.

The doors whooshed open, and let out a blast of cold air. Automatic doors! Air conditioning! Luxury I hadn't experienced in years, as things broke down. And the store itself, shelves and shelves, wall to wall, of products, also mostly American in nature, with a fair sprinkling of stuff that had to be from other countries; it was packaged differently, in languages that were most decidedly not English.

But almost all manufacturing for any of this had ceased, years ago.

Emily led me four aisles over and down, where the coolers were. Actual working coolers, filed with meat and dairy that I was certain had come from actual livestock and tested as such.

From the end of the cooler, Emily pulled a bottle of water. A name brand plastic bottle of water, aquafina. Purified water, it said, right on the bottle - no need for boiling or testing. It was also ice cold.

Emily caught me looking. "Only the best for our candidates."

She didn't grab one herself, and I didn't see a pass.

The water was delicious, and instantly I felt guilty.

"So, do you need anything else?" Emily asked, smile a bit warmer as she watched me almost choke.

"No, I'm fine, thanks. If food and water are provided for, and clothes are provided for, well I have a toothbrush and paste, and um, all that other stuff."

She didn't need to know about the sorry 1 ply I had. It was a luxury, but seeing this place, they probably had ultra super plush or something. Much too embarrassing to talk about, especially in front of, well, Emily, but at least I wasn't using leaves.

Emily nodded. "Alright. For the record though, those are probably being burned or tossed. Too much of a risk of contaminants. If so, don't worry, to get more all you'll need to do is ask.Now, let me ask you a question. I know you said you aren't hungry, but if you were, what food says home to you the most? What's your favorite?"

That was a no-brainer. "Kit-kats."

I had fond memories of kit-kats, from the first one my mother got me to the last one I ate. All memories of happier times.

"Hm, thats a tough one, but maybe..."

And before I could ask what she meant since I hadn't requested anything, Emily was off like a shot. I caught up with her at the first aisle, where she was rooting around in a sizable... candy bin?

No way, really?

"Ah ha! Found it, I knew we had one left!" Emily straightened, almost yelling in her triumph.

What she had in her hand... was a bag of miniature kit-kats, just like people used to give out halloween. Or so my Dad told me once.

Emily turned them around and handed them to me. "Here you are Daniel; a small taste of home," she held up the dreaded finger. "But, you can't eat any until you get to the new home."

The bag was placed gently into my hands, and I needed the handkerchief again. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it, " Emily told me in an offhand manner, as if she hadn't just pulled a large piece of contraband out of thin air. "Now, let's get you stowed and safe, before the natives get restless."

They didn't consider here safe, with all the tanks and bombs and militaries around?

Once again, Emily read me. Maybe I wasn't as good at hiding things as I thought I was. "Don't worry, we're safe enough. But the powers that be, those heads that are left, deemed we not take chances with any crew. So we house them on the safest place we can."

Emily stepped out, started leading me further in the camp... past the other buildings and to what could only be considered a giant elevator. Fully enclosed, it led up to the ship itself.

"Right on the Ponce De Leon, humanity's very own fountain of youth."

A little needless to say, but the view was breathtaking so I forgave her.