Amur sat on the top of the hill, looking at the desolate landscape before him, his mind filling in all the things that were missing from this world he lived in now. He remembered it all like it was yesterday. He used to come here often with his father. They lived in the village at the foot of the hill. There were green fields with clumps of trees scattered here and there. All that remained now was orange dust and a deep gash in the ground where once a river flowed.

I am sentient. I look like a human. I act like one. But I am not human.

Peter opened his eyes slowly, and let the cool morning light flow in. As he looked out the window, he saw the blue autumn sky, providing the background for leaves drifting down to the earth after having lived out their lifetimes in the heights of the trees. This thought jolted him back to reality, a reality that was as ugly as the morning was beautiful.

Humans hardly ever ventured into the colony of mutants, and mutants almost never came into the human world. What little interaction there was was limited to necessary trading of commodities that one needed, and the other possessed. This too was always done through chosen representatives, and the masses never participated in these exchanges, most were unaware of it.

Vincent always wished he had more time. He needed more time to finish his homework, he needed more time to sleep and he needed more time to play.

On October 21, 2063, as the maglev train shot silently through the tunnel connecting the cities on opposite sides of the chain of hills, there was just one single sound that rang out feebly. A tiny pebble, dislodged from its place at the ceiling of the tunnel by a small rodent, had struck the side of the train. The impact at 450 km/hr had created a nasty gash about an inch long on the glossy surface of the train.