Eric paced up and down his section of the wall. Thinking. The watchmen were spaced every few feet apart But still far enough away from each other that at times a person could feel a little isolated. Eric didn't mind this, other people could become intimidated in the darkness though. In all actuality he relished the chance to sort his thoughts. It was quiet at the wall and standing watch was one of the only jobs in Sacrifice that didn't require you to pay attention completely to what you were doing. Just then he hadn't been thinking of anything in particular, just tracing faces in the stone underfoot. Often during these nights he imagined that he could see, forever etched in stone, the visages of those who's blood, sweat, and tears had served to construct such a brazen defiance of the night. Now his eyes merely wandered from one familiar line to the next as his brain leaped similarly from topic to topic.

His parents, both very much products of Sacrifice, felt that in their opinions, anything that didn't immediately benefit the colony was better left alone. They loved him well enough but they told him he dreamt to much anyhow. They just couldn't understand why he kept going from project to project. Whenever these accusations arose he merely ignored them and changed the subject. His head firmly in the clouds. Eric would visit them tomorrow. After all, he didn't have anything else planned. Rest days always followed night-watch (which was about the only benefit to taking this shit job) unless you were actually one of those people being paid to do it.

Looking at the night sky Eric yawned and watched for the first hint of pink to appear on the horizon. It was still late so rather than loose himself in boredom, Eric contemplated. He knew that water was scarce in Sacrifice and had to be rationed. The plumbing laid down by their ancestors, for the most part, was functional. The plants that pumped and purified the water was not. He could remember as a little boy, rising with the other school children to check the collection vats. If they had filled with enough dew, or rain from the night before, it was their job to get an adult who could transfer the precious stuff to storage. A water tower in the middle of town. If not, they would play tag or other games. Well, they would play, and Eric, who had never formed any of the bonds that were usually associated with living in such small communities, would pore over technical manuals borrowed from the library. When he grew up and began scrounging he started a meager collection of his own. One such diagram he had, laid out exactly how to produce a well.

What seemed almost common place to his ancestors looked to Eric like an insurmountable task. He had to find an aquifer, dig at least a 3 meter hole to it, line the whole thing with concrete, and fit it with a pump so that water wouldn't have to be drawn with a bucket. not to mention the purification process. A well that size would serve, at maximum capacity, the needs of 150 people. If he could produce two, the growing population of Sacrifice would have fresh water for quite some time. Ideally, Eric wanted to get the old plants running again. Then they would have to rename the town Paradise instead of it's current moniker. That thought made him chuckle but he was soon wrested out of his reverie by a sound coming from the other side of the wall. Peering into the darkness below he could just make out the shape of a person looking up at him.

With a quick curse he flicked the switch on his searchlight flooding the ground, and what turned out to be a woman wearing a green t-shirt, with the bright blue hues of the UV lamp. It had taken awhile for him to hear her, but he recognised her from town and had seen others letting her inside the gates as he went about his business. He sighed in relief, expecting a cured. Instead he got to wonder how she continually managed to find herself outside after nightfall. Privately it amused him, though she wouldn't have been able to tell from his tone of voice as he called down to her. "You know, it's dangerous out there." He said this as he made a quick scan of the area and turned the light off. Looking at the sky again he saw the beginnings of sunrise. His shift would be over soon and then he would have to escort the girl to the Oberon house. As one of the original scientists to produce the cure, Dr. Oberon was the only person in Sacrifice with the equipment to test for traces of the disease. Presumably his son knew how to use it all because otherwise the girl would have been left to fend for herself. The townsfolk weren't going to repeat the mistakes of the past.

He'd take care of it when the time came, he thought. Until then, he really would enjoy the company, however little he let onto the fact. But true to his nature, he probably came off a little brusque as the only thing he could think of to say was, "Your lucky I didn't mistake you for one of the cured..."

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A dark smudge in a world filled with light.