”I’ve thought you were many things,” the Templar replied to the Mage’s outburst, ”Stupid isn’t one of them.”
The smile she gave Thea was filled with the pain she was too tired to hide. They’d rode hard today but it was clear the journey was yet over with. Kaitlyn looked at Thea out of the corner of her eye. Did Thea even realize that the Templar was trying to be kind? First, by providing her a nice bed in a safe place last night, and now by continuing it her watch. And yet, even when Kaitlyn tried to be nice, Thea seldom seemed to take it the right way. She frowned unconsciously. Perhaps given more time? But no, even if her wound wasn’t as bad as she feared, in a few days’ time the Templar would return to her post and Thea would begin her training. With the war raging on as it did, they’d probably never see each other again.
Any pretense of smiling disappeared as soon as Owen’s name was brought up. Kaitlyn frowned at her traveling companion. ”The truth of course. That dark spawn ambushed us on the ride and that Owen fell under their attack.” Grabbing her water skin, Kaitlyn brought it to her lips, ”Why? I’ve got nothing to hide.” But this time their eyes did not meet. Perhaps Thea suspected something was wrong with the wound festering on the Templar’s arm. Either way, Kaitlyn wished to leave the subject.
Her silent prey was answered as a familiar voice rang through the air. ”Hail, Templar McKarth.” Kaitlyn looked up in time to see a man striding over towards her. She’d recognize his pug face anywhere. Not all Templars were as bad as Thea apparently believed them to be, but this one was one of the worst. He was a brutish, masculinist, prick, something Kailtyn knew first hand since they’d trained together.
”Henrick Falcoy” The Templar responded and stood up so they’d be on the same eye level. Neither one of them saluted.
”Fancy seeing you here in headquarters. Not something I expected ever since you slinked off to…well that isn’t very important is it?” His eyes wandered over to where Thea was sitting, beefy palms coming together. ”Last I heard, you were still palling around with Dopey. I suppose this one’s a bit of an improvement. Or is she ripe for the Rite as well.” Kaitlyn ground her teeth together before forcing herself to smile.
”I am her escort.” Is was all the words she could form while still maintaining her temper.
”Well at least this one’s more attractive, although there’s something…” Henrick never finished. His words were cut off as Kaitlyn fist raked across his jaw. Never one to be caught off guard for long, Henrick reached out and caught the female Templar by the shoulder, to bend her down and deliver a few blows to her abdomen.
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"Metaphores" by Sylvia Plath
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This week has been hellacious time wise. I don't normally like leaving my partner's waiting this long. You should expect a post by this time tomorrow.
Since Gabriel’s last post focuses on the next day, I’m making time pass quickly in both of my posts. Also, I’m sorry if my writing style is changing a bit. I’m in the middle of reading (well… listening to) the first book in the Game of Thrones series and I can’t help but think it’s rubbing off on me a little.
Enrick Valdea
The polished wood of the bar gleaned under my fingers. Even though I’d been circling the same spot with my rag for the last three minutes, I didn’t notice. My mind was still in my boss’s office even if time and my body had moved on.
”I see.”
He’d taken a long enough time to form the words and they weren’t the ones I’d expected. Then again maybe you became the Rebel leader by acting cool and collected under pressure even when you felt otherwise. I studied by boss from the wrinkles forming on the sides of the lips, to his chiseled jaw set firm despite what I’d just told him. I thought he and Kassie were close. If anyone was going to help me go after her, I thought he’s be first in line. Maybe I was wrong.
”Where was she when it happened?” This was Ven. I debated briefly about lying and covering for Kassie. She shouldn’t have gone out, not after the bombing time had been moved up. But there was something about Ven’s body stance, something about the twist of his lips that made me feel like he knew the truth.
”Well?”
I directed the answer back to my boss. ”She was at my bar.”
His eyes scanned over my face. I don’t know what he was looking for. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ven’s lips had now turned into a smirk.
”I see.”
That’s all he said and then I was asked to leave. Even though my heart was heavy with the loss of Kassie and the fear that nothing would be done about her, I couldn’t think of anything else to do but return to my apartment. When I woke, I had expected to receive a note shoved under my door or left under the houseplant, the only thing small enough to fit on my front porch, but there’d been nothing. I’d go to work selling hotdogs to the lunch crowd. Nothing. I’d come home again with a new bag of seed for Parcheck. Still nothing. Where they planning on doing something without me? Where they planning on doing something at all? I felt so powerless. I wanted to storm back into our headquarters and demand for an answer. It been almost 24 hours since they’d taken her. What if when I finally arrived it was too late? What if it was too late already?
”I think that spot’s clean.”
I looked up to see Mikkie grinning at me. She was one of the floor waitresses. Her main job to sell drinks to our patrons who are too busy dancing to want to go to the bar and order from me directly. She has soft golden curls that end at her shoulders, a beautiful smile, and large round breasts enhanced by the tight shirts she wears.
”Yeah, thanks,” I said, trying to keep my gaze on her eyes. It was difficult when she leaned over the bar top like that, but I managed. ”Just making extra sure, you know.”
”Yep,” she giggled. I turned around to put the rag back but as I did, I felt Mikkie’s warm hand embrace mine. My heart leapt. It was not the same way it had when Kassie had touched me, this time it ached with a sort of dread and all I wanted to do was snatch my limb back.
”You know Enrik, I’ve always found you to be pretty cut. Lately, my boyfriend’s been working the early morning shift. You must be a little sad with your friend gone and I hate…”
I could have seen where this was going from a mile away. ”Thank you but…” I tried. She was still holding my hand awkwardly. I tried to gently pull it away.
”… It’s just after seeing you yesterday. I never realized you could be so passionate. And with a girl you hardly…”
”…but no thank you, Mikkie.” My last finger finally managed to wiggle free of her grasp. She gave a little pout and shrugged. ”Okay. You’ll let me know if you change your mind?” As she walked away, I stifled a sigh of relief.
Louisa Essair
”Well did you?”
I was surprised at Kassie’s response to my question. I thought, since she hadn’t said anything earlier that she was ignoring us altogether. Zora took the opportunity to slice into her. I wondered only briefly about the animosity between them.
It was the question on everyone’s mind but this woman, the first person to actually ask. Gabriel assumed I was innocent. The police assumed I was guilty. ”No.” I said. ”But that doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Neither one of them answered right away and the room grew quiet again. We all knew how things went in Restraint. You were guilty until proven innocent and sometimes you were guilty regardless. As long as we kept our noses clean and our questions to ourselves, the government would take care of us. Only that clearly wasn’t true, was it?
Time ticked by slowly. I felt the weight of the day and eventually lied down. The hard cement floor wasn’t comfortable and the lights in the ceiling, which I first though had been too dim were now uncomfortably bright. I curled in on myself, my back pressed against the closest wall. I thought fleetingly how I might have been more comfortable if I turned around but I honestly didn’t trust my fellow inmates enough to give them my back.
”How long do you think they’ll keep us here?” I asked to no one in particular.
Zora got to my question first. ”Hours. Days. Years. As long as the bastards like. Why, you have some place to go, Angel?” Her crooked smile glittered blue in the light. I didn’t respond except to close my eyes. Then I was out.
”Louisa Essiar?” My name brought me back into the reality of my situation. I didn’t know how long I’d laid there on the floor but I couldn’t remember dreaming. All I knew is that I was less tired than before but more stiff. My sleeping arrangements were a far cry from my foam mattress and feather pillow.
”Yes?” The voice was male, and I realized it came from behind the metal door. Around me my companions also stirred.
”Louisa Essair, please come to the door. You are to be escorted out.” His words were void of emotion but his voice sounded young.
”Coming,” I said, standing up, straightening my dress and dusting dirt off my bear arms and legs. Perhaps if I had known, I would have chosen a different outfit, but then if I had known… my mind leapt back to the memory of Gabriel and me in his car even while my feet carried me to the door. My heart ached at the memory. I shouldn’t have stopped him.
”Am I being released?” I asked, trying to swallow down the hope that radiated through my voice. I could feel my body tremble with expectation.
”Please put your arms through the open flaps on the door.” I immediately complied. With a jerk, he spun my arms around so my wrists were up towards the ceiling. Cold metal clamped down on my arms. The weight of them was as heavy as the weight in my heart. There would be no freedom from me. After making sure the other two women were against the back wall, he released my shackles and I pulled my arms back through. A large metal bar connected them together, making it impossible for me to rotate them back into a more comfortable position. The cell door swung open, a hand reached through and grabbed that metal bar, and I was pulled through.
”Follow me,” the same man, tugged on my shackles forcing me to keep up or risk falling on my face. With my hands braced like this, I couldn’t even catch myself if I tripped.
”Where are we going?” I asked as we walked down a thin cement hallway, every now and then passing doors identical to the one in my cell. ”Do I have a visitor?”
He ignored me. Eventually I gave up and continued to follow him through the maze of passageways. I tried to remember the way we’d gone, just in case, but the hallways were all identical and soon I lost track. Every now and then I could have sworn I heard whispers or a quiet moan, but it was in the distance and muffled by the heavy tread of my escort. My own feet where bare and noiseless. I couldn’t remember losing my shoes. They must have taken my heels off before I got to my cell.
We stopped in front of a metal door, only this one didn’t have a series of latches. The guard opened the door for me and I stepped inside. An older man was sitting at a computer desk. His wrinkled hands peeking out from under a pristine white lab coat. Across from him was a black leather lounge chair. The rest of the room was barren cement cube. I was about to turn around and ask the guard again what was going on but I heavy click told me the effort would be in vain. The noise must have startled the old man at the desk because he finally looked up.
I felt violated as his pale grey eyes lingered over me, stopping and the hem of my dressed, and just above my outstretched forearms. The man was old enough to be my grandfather. ”Please have a seat, Miss Essaire.” He motioned to the chair.
”I’d rather not,” I said, backing towards the door.
His laugh was dry and wheezy, like he’d smoked too much in his youth. ”I’m not going to hurt you. I only want to ask you a few questions.”
”I don’t believe you.” My voice sounded much more assertive than I felt.
He just smiled at my response, ”You don’t have much choice. Like I said, I only want to ask you a few questions. Give you a chance to prove your innocence. Now please, take a seat.”
I remembered what happened the last time I’d fought against my capture. The thought of another bag over my head while I was dragged to who knows where frightened me. I hesitantly walked towards the chair and sat down as he’d instructed.
Then it happened before I knew what was going on. The old man, moving faster than I could have imagined, reached out and grabbed my arm. I screamed as a sharp pain ran through the underside of my elbow and ice rushed through my veins. He let go then, and I saw there was an empty needle in his right hand. I wanted to hit him but instead I slumped back into the chair, my body feeling unnaturally heavy.
”Now Miss Essair,” he said, his face floating just out of my view, ”We’re going to start with some simple questions first and then work our way from there. Alright?”
Ryen continued to wave. He had to see her, he just had to. The crowd around her was a cacophony of voices and sounds. She felt less a part of herself and more a part of them. She was riding on the waves of energy, adrenaline pumping through her veins. There easily had to be a hundred of them crammed together. Some were angry, some were pleading, some were as panicked as Ryen felt, but none of them were happy. I was clear the ring leader wasn’t pleased by the situation also.
”…Shut up!”
Just like before the crowd quieted a bit. She could just barley hear him. Feeling a bit of her energy drained, Ryen lowered her arms to her side but continued to stand on the seat of her bike. She wanted to make sure she could see and be seen.
”Who said they were doctors?”
Ryen felt deflated as a few of the crowd pressed forward. Speculative whispers circulated throughout the crowd, making it impossible to hear what was going on. Before Ryen knew understood what was happening, the sound of a shot pierced through the air. The crowd angrily pressed forward and then back again. The tidal wave of bodies crashed against her bike, causing Ryen to lose balance. More noises exploded. Without warning she was on the ground amiss a tangle of legs, dangling tentacles, and other appendages. The swarm of bodies was still moving. Instinctively she curled into herself and covered her head with her arms. More shouting erupted from the front of the crowd. Someone cursed as they tripped over prone her body.
”You’re lucky that was a warning shot.”
”Up!” Something tugged at the back of her jacket collar, lifting her to her feet. ”You’ll get crushed down there.” Before she could thank him for the action, the man had already disappeared into the crowd. Up at the front, the ring leader announced something and all hell broke loose. The crowd became an angry ocean. In the distance she could hear an insistent high pitch beeping. Was it some kind of bomb? Ryen didn’t have long to think about it as human and alien alike started ramming into each other, in an effort to get away from the noise maker. Something slammed into her chest, hard, almost nocking the wind out of her. She felt dazed as she clung onto the handle of the bike, using it to anchor herself. Towards the center of the crowd she heard people yelling. The beeping started to speed up, then stopped altogether.
”… Welcome aboard!”
The crowd around her had significantly thinned, and Ryen could just make out through the crammed bodies, the face of the ringleader and the man who’d picked her up off the ground. ”What just happened?” Ryen said to a Beetlebung standing next to her. It did what, Ryen could only guess, was a kind of shrug.
Ryen continued to watch as the ringleader called on a rather shy woman. The woman had shiny brown hair and looked a few years older than Ryen. What the string of words she could catch the other woman was an information gatherer and she looked as frightened of the ringleader as Ryen felt. Around her, more people began to peel away from the crowd. The young woman looked to her left and saw there was a clear escape path. She was wasting time here, precious time she couldn’t afford to lose. Plus, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be a part of this.
”Who here is a mechanic!”
Ryen didn’t even have to think about it. ”I am!” Arms went up and waved in the air. Meanwhile the crowd around her bellowed their irritation. When the ringleader shouted for the mechanics to come closer, Ryen tried to obey. A nervous feeling sat low in her belly as she struggled to the front of the crowd. It wasn’t easy going, and a few members of the crowd made it purposefully difficult to pass. It didn’t surprise her that she was the last mechanic to arrive.
Ryen recognized a few in her group and from what little she knew about them, she suspected she had a good shot at the position. Dr. Zarks, a Alborege who arrived a few years ago, was droning on about his advanced bionics. Ryen turned her attention over to the crew members that had already been chosen now that she had a better view. All were young, although all were older than her. She didn’t recognize the doctor or the technician but Alexandrion was a big city so it wasn’t surprising. Suddenly, Ryen realized that the soldier from before was waving at her. Quickly she gave a small wave back and turned her attention to Dr. Zarks.
”And that is why I would make an impeccable mechanic aboard your ship.”
The girl eyed the ringleader, trying to judge his reaction to the Alborege’s speech. Indifferent? Uninterested? Neutral? The next alien mechanic launched into a speech about his research in the area of “The medical uses of easily grown biosphere flora”. Half-way through the speech Ryen let out a small sigh. Or at least she thought it was small, but from the looks she got from her fellow mechanics, it was obvious everyone heard her. Feeling sheepish, the young woman studied the cement floor.
By the fifth alien’s speech, Ryen felt jittery. Nothing any of them said seemed to have an effect on their ringleader. What was the man looking for exactly? She wished she knew why he’d picked the other crewmembers. Meanwhile her stomach was doing summersaults as she considered what she should say. There were plenty of good scientists here and other mechanics with far more experience then she had. Would he take pity on her if she told him why she needed to get off the planet immediately? The stern line of his mouth told her no. How to convince him then?
The six aliens stepped back, allowing the human mechanics some room. After some minor squabbling, the order of their speeches was decided, with the “real scientist” going first and the progeny going second. Ryen could barely hide her irritation at the woman standing next to her as she took a few steps forward on her fuchsia stiletto heels. She was the kind of woman other women liked to hate. She was tall, curvy, and had straight black hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was attractive and she knew it. Unconsciously, Ryen brushed off the dirt on her jacket from her fall.
”I am Dr. Sara Thif.” The woman announced and reached up to tuck a strand of black hair behind her ear. It reminded Ryen of the advice columns she used to scour through in grade school. ”Flirting isn’t just about words- it also involves body language! Touching your hair, making eye contact, leaning closer all show him you’re interested.” ”I think I would be a perfect addition to your crew.”
Ryen fought the urge to groan. Had the woman really purred the last word? She’d just have to hope the ringleader wasn’t picking up what this lady was dropping. ”I assisted Dr. Kenth, the Dr. Kenth in the discovery of a method for re-application of anti-ionization anodes.”
”I also helped him!” this came from the gentleman at Ryen’s right. He had blonde hair streaked with grey and a clean cut suit. One look from Dr. Sara Thif, however silence him.
”As I’m sure you know,” she continued on, her cantor still smooth as silk, ”Anti-ionization anodes are critical in a ship because they prevent ordinary wear and tear.”
”From uncontrolled oxidation or in layman’s words, rusting.” This was from the man again.
”Yes, Dr. Perthel, I was getting to that. They are also used in water recycling units to combine with the excess chemicals used during the treatment process. This creates larger particles that can then be filtered out.”
”As I’m sure you’re aware, these rods must be replaced periodically, and are quite costly. As of yet no one has been able to find a way to recharge them. Well, I mean there are ways, but they end up being more costly that the original…”
”Dr. Kenth and I discovered that there was a way to reuse these rods. Anodes, as I’m sure you’re aware, release electrons and therefore start the flow of current. By double oxidizing the anode with the aid of a demagnizer, you can easily charge an energy cell.”
Ryen felt like she was sitting in the middle of an air-tennis court, as the two scientists lobbed words back and forth across her head.
”You’re boring him, Dr. Thif. What he really wants to know about is the combat capabilities. Under Dr. Kenth, I looked into…”
”Who cares about that? Most ships are loaded up with more than enough fire power. Taking out a few collision meteors is the child’s play. What you should really be using the rods for is extra power to…”
They argued back and forth for a good five minutes, until both finally calmed down enough to realize the ring leader didn’t appear to be interested in them anymore. This was ideal since Ryen was still standing in between them and once or twice she was worried they’d come to blows.
”So then,” the ringleader said frowning, ”Why are either of you special?”
Ryen was so stunned by the question, she forgot what she had planned on saying. Why was she special? Well for one, her genius of a father implanted a memory chip in her brain when she was a child. And for another, someone had just murdered that same father and was possibly, no probably, going after her next. But she wasn’t about to tell this stranger that. Especially, when he eyed them like they were flecks of lint. Well then, what should she say? But the man on the other side of Dr. Thif spoke up before Ryen could even open her mouth.
”I’m special because I graduated second in my class. I’ve been a mechanic on three different ships, one that flew all the way to Trina Eriva. And, unlike those two, I’ve got real world experience. Sure you can sit in a lab all day and twiddle your thumbs and work on meaningless things like laparoscopic antenna and using old anodes to power fuel cells, but in the end how useful are they?” Ryen peered around Dr. Thif to look at the speaker. Something in his words didn’t add up. If he was a scientist’s child and he graduated second in his class, why was he only working as a mechanic? ”As for her,” Ryen almost jumped as the man met her eyes, ”The only thing special about her is her father. I suppose you must want to get out from under his shadow.”
Ryen just continued to stare at the man. She didn’t understand his venom towards herself nor did she remember them meeting before right now. It wasn’t too surprising that he recognized who she was though. Her father had always been big about publicity.
”He’s right,” Ryen said, looking into the ringmaster’s deep blue eyes. ”I’m not special.” The crowd that had gathered started to settle down a bit, but Ryen couldn’t hear that because of the ringing in her ears. What was she doing? This was not the speech she mentally rehearsed. ”My father is Dr. Arleth, most known for his contributions to Artificial Intelligence. In fact most AIs from automated trash collectors to merchant and cargo-ships have had their logi-tecx matrix improved by my father. I am not my father, but I have worked under him all my life.”
”The AI is the brain of a ship, but the mechanic is her limbs. She tells them was is wrong and it’s their job to fix it. A ship is useless if her mechanic doesn’t know what they’re doing.” She turned to the three people by the ship’s airlock, ”And a crew is useless without a ship.” The man in the white lab-coat, the one Ryen assumed was the doctor, just shrugged. She didn’t like that he seemed so careless. She didn’t like that he smoked. She didn’t like that he wore his lab coat around like an overcoat- the purpose of the garment being to protect the patient and the doctor and help promote a sanitary environment. Ryen very much doubted that coat could have been called sanitary for a while. The solider smiled. The female technician shuddered.
”Besides being an adept mechanic, I have other skills.”
”Yeah, like what?” this reply came from the same prodigy.
”Well, I can…” This part was hard. This went against everything she’d been taught. For years she’d go to school and learn the basics and then she’d go home and the real work would begin. Every evening, most weekends. During dinner, after story time. Languages, word definitions, the history of the Federation, important scientific advancements, a basic catalogue of alien races, the stats of thirty-seven planets under the Federation’s control, native plant species of Syrae, the placement of major galaxies. Simply hearing it and repeating it back wasn’t enough. Sometimes she had to read it, sometimes she had to write it, sometimes she had to build it. Short term memory can hold about nine facts. But simply putting something into short term memory is not enough. Information must be placed in my brain’s long term memory in order for the memory chip there to work.
At first Ryen’s father tutored her out of the sheer fun of learning. Then it became a sort of challenge to him to see just how much information she could store and recall. Her mother didn’t like it, and thanks to her urgings Ryen some much needed breaks in the routine. As Ryen got older, her father’s attempts to stuff information into her brain became more adamant. She started to rebel. She couldn’t understand the point of knowing everything if she couldn’t show it. She hated playing dumb.
Her parents fought more often while Ryen struggled to memorize the information in the books her father bought. Sometimes it took hundreds of times for her brain to place information into long term memory. Sometimes the facts were wrong. But sometimes it only took once. She could still remember what her father’s voice sounded like when he explained that her mother wasn’t coming back. How the house felt when there were no arguments. Ryen was only eleven at the time.
After that, her father stopped tutoring her, out of guilt, and turned his attention to other pursuits. Two years back, when school ended, she started working with her father again. Only this time the research wasn’t focused on Ryen. Ryen was just one of many lab assistance in her father’s perpetual obsession with intelligence- artificial and otherwise.
”I can speak three languages fluently,” she announced, offer a broad smile. ”Common Tongue, obviously, and intergalactic Shgardunish, and…”
”I can speak five.”
”Five?” a red eyebrow went up as she peered around Dr. Thif. Even the two human scientists seemed surprised at the man’s statement. ”Really, five different languages fluently?”
Just like the good doctor, the man shrugged. ”It’s not that difficult.”
Ryen bit back the urge to call him a liar, it was childish even if it was true. ”Well, I also…”
”No one cares.”
Ryen fumed. Around her she could feel the crowd growing restless. This entire affair had gone on long enough. She needed to think of something fast. Then it occurred to her, if the ship was as new as it looked, it was possible it had an AI designed by her father.
”Ship, 706-55539,” she said reading off the ship’s front plate, ”-20193-883. I am assistant 7099 colon gamma 5. I need you to run a quarry for me.” She waited for the ship to reply but nothing happened. Ryen went on regardless. ”Would it be possible for me to use the verbal code 78-hexaB22998-1-57 to override your weapons controls and order you to shoot this man?” she pointed to the mechanic who’d been harassing her.
”No.”
It was a distant sounding mechanical female voice.
”Please repeat,” Ryen commanded.
It was slightly louder this time. ”No.”
”And Why not?” Ryen said feeling bemused instead of annoyed, her arms folded across her chest.
”Because you’re not the captain.”
I wasn't sure what you preferred so I left it open ended for you. I can write as the First Enchanter.
If it's easier for you, I can add on a post from Nym.
”Pay it forward?” I said and began sipping on my drink. As the woman had promised, it was delicious. And it was free. I took another long sip, practically humming to myself. I turned to go the long way back to the library, passing a small city park. It was past mid-day and the park was empty. It was to be expected since in this part of town you either worked or went to school to work. Lolling about on park benches was for the evening or the weekends. A glass tile and concrete fountain sparkled in the center of the area. Green, teal, and blues, cracked and dirty with age formed the image of a sprawling tree. Try as I might, I couldn’t call it attractive even if it had been beautiful once. Like so many things of the past it was now broken and no one had bothered to fix it. It was an impractical waste of precious water.
Still, the drink was good. I took another sip. Almost too good.
”Damn it,”
I reached in my pocket for the crumbled receipt and flipped it over. Just like the hotdog vendor, the barista had produced a receipt. It was weird, especially since I hadn’t purchased the drink. My brows nit together as I read the words. I mouthed them silently as I scanned them the second time. ”Charles-9 hundred Eagles Point the way”
I spent the afternoon finishing up my repairs. My brain bouncing constantly between the tiny faded letters of the book in front of me and the words printed on the back of the receipt. I had no clue in the world what it meant or what I was supposed to do with it. The vendor yesterday had mentioned something about bookmarks, but there was no way I’d be able hand them out trapped in this room.
I wracked my brain again. Nine Hundred Eagles. Eagles? Eagles were about as mythical as Minotaurs and Wildebeests. A few history books mentioned them but I was taught they disappeared a while back. Even if that wasn’t true, I’d never seen them in Restraint. And how could they point to anything? They didn’t even have hands? I’d already tried focusing on the number. But the Tale of Two Cities book I’d been delivered only went to 720 pages and as of yet, I didn’t read any mention of eagles. By the end of the work day the only thing I’d been successful at was the restoration. Still, even that was only halfway done, meaning I could look forward to another day of being locked in a closet.
Alright. To save yourself some time, you can start reading from the
*
It's where the new material begins.
It's where the new material begins.
The summer silk felt smooth and crisp under Ryen’s fingers. ”Do you have this is blue?” she asked the merchant who was eying her greedily. ”Blue more expensive,” the Beetlebung said, it’s snake-like mouth garbling the words of Common Tongue, ”Five and seven credits more.”
”Thirty-three credits more, maybe.” Ryen replied, replacing the thick mitten over her hand.
”Five and seven.”
Ryen shrugged. ” Maybe it’s worth fifty-seven credits more most days but today is Hopper Day. Thirty-three.” She hated dealing with Beetlebung. In general their demeanor was as hard as the fire red scales that covered their bodies.
”Silk is light and easy to carry back.” the Beetlebung hissed.
”Then that looks like what you’ll be doing with it.” With that she walked off and started to peruse the artifacts of another stall nearby. If her memory served, and it always did, that Beetlebung would lower their price by the end of the day. It was still early yet.
A news flash scrawled across the holo-screen in the corner of Ryen’s eye. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned to face it. She thought she saw… but no, it couldn’t be. She patiently waited until the words flashed again.
Ryen’s hands flew to her mouth as a silent scream escaped from her lips. Tears welled up and streamed down her cheeks as the words swam and blurred. Her father had been killed? Why had no one told her. Anger, terror, and grief overwhelmed her as she checked the communicator in her pocket. ”0 messages” flashed on the digital screen. Why hadn’t anyone tried to reach her?
Unbidden, a conversation from over three years played in her head. Her father’s voice so loud and clear, he could have been standing in front of her.
If something were to happen to me… No listen… If something were, now I’m not saying it will but if it does you need to access the safe in my workshop. You remember the code right…? No! Don’t say it out loud... I need you take the journal and burn it in a geothermal vent and you need to get off planet right away… That day! Do you understand? That day! They might go after you also.”
The grief was still raw as Ryen tore through her closet, trying to decide what she should pack and what she should leave. She’d been over to her father’s workshop. It looked like a Tiberian windstorm had ransacked the place. Green gobs of gloop, acidic from the smell they gave off, stuck to papers and pooled on cabinets and floorboards. The safe had char marks on it, like someone had tried to use explosives but the massive door had held. As she’d been instructed as a child, Ryen aligned her right palm on the handle and entered the 25 digit pin. On the fifth snap she pulled on the handle and the door swung open easily. Inside, amongst several stacks of papers were two volumes, her father’s research notebook and a small journal. Reaching her arm inside, she grabbed both before securing the safe again out of habit.
The whole time she’d been in her father’s workshop she’d been jumpy. Every creek of the floorboards or whisper of the thermal vents, responsible for piping in warm air from deep below Syrae’s crust, made her breath catch. She’d almost bolted out of the workshop.
And now she was here, scrambling around trying to figure out what was worth packing and what would have to stay behind. She had no idea where she’d be going or what climate she’d be living in next. Hot or Cold? Wet or Dry? Would there be free flowing water or trees? Snow shoes or sandals? Both? Neither? Normally if a citizen wanted to get off Syrae they’d take an Express to a different planet. But it could take days for her to secure a ticket that way. Her only hope was to hitch a ride with a Trader. It should have been easy enough since it was Hopper Day or so she hoped. The doorbell of her apartment rung. A screen by the door switched on, it’s job to display the faces of the visitors to the occupants inside. Ryen poked her head outside her bedroom door to take a look. The screen had been disconnected.
”Ursea” Ryen called out to her apartment’s AI. At first the computer program didn’t like responding to the name of the girl’s dead catermite but eventually it learned to respond after Ryen promised to come up with a more humiliating one. Like so many things in her apartment the AI had been upgraded by her father, and like so many of his creations, it tended to have a mind of its own. Ryen found its slightly argumentative demeanor endearing so she’d decided not to tweak the settings.
”Yes mistress Arleth?” it pronounced in a mechanical male voice that sounded a bit sardonic.
”Please scan our visitors, the visual door display isn’t working.”
Ryen mentally checked over her clothes again and began packing toiletries. It was amazing how little one really needed when push came to shove. Ursea’s announcement cut through the door bell ringing again. ”Their identity is unknown.”
Ryen pressed the latch of the large metallic purple handbag, it began vacuum sealing its contents, allowing it to shrink to a more manageable size. ”Well did you use the door camera to match Alexandrion’s facial recognition database?”
”Yes. Their identity is unknown.”
”Unknown” Ryen repeated, feeling a chill run down her spine. ”How can that be?” Everyone foreign who entered the city had to go through a security terminal where all their basic vitals were recorded and anyone who was a citizen had their information housed in the public data base almost from birth.
”There are several plausible explanations for…” but Ursea’s explanation was drowned out by something pounding on the thick metal door followed by a high pitch whine. Ryen wasn’t sure what they were doing but she was starting to have serious concerns. Like all the security doors in her expensive high rise apartment building, it was made of a strong, nearly impermeable Titantium alloy. These weren’t your average house breakers.
She wished she could go over what she packed again, but there wasn’t time. Now that the hand bag was deflated, it weighed just under ten kilos. Using detachable straps, Ryen created a cross over her chest and attached the bag to her back. After making sure it was secure, she walked over to the table by the door and grabbed the baby blue helmet that lived there. ”Ursea,” she said, loosening the bun at the back of her neck so the helmet would fit over her head. ”Please follow protocol seven-six-alpha-four-B.”
”I take it then that this is good-bye.” The voice almost sounded pain. Guilt lanced through Ryen’s heart. Somehow the argument that the program wasn’t a living, breathing entity didn’t make the kill order any easier. But Ursea’s predictive behavior meant it knew her almost better than she knew herself. If someone or something was coming after her, she couldn’t afford for them to get their hands on that kind of information.
”I won’t forget you.” Ryen pressed the release button for the balcony door.
”You rarely do.” It announced reassuring Ryen about her decision. No one besides her father knew for certain about the memory chip planted in her brain, but even the AI had an inkling that her brain function was not normal. ”Deletion at 45 percent”
Ryen pressed her hand against the finger print reader by the door. A small suction sound met her ears as the two glass panels slid apart. Cool air rushed against her face as Ryen pulled her jacket sleeves down more to cover her wrists. The city of Alexadrion was housed under a metal and glass dome but even the geothermal vents couldn’t keep out all the chill from planet’s -30 degree surface.
Outside her hover bike was sitting next to a few pots of Leaken Bush, a cold loving herbaceous plant that had fist-sized neon orange flowers. With a turn of a key, the old metal machine whooshed to life, its two bottom propellers creating clouds of dust beneath them. Without hesitation, Ryen alighted onto the bike and pushed the visor of the helmet down over her exposed eyes. Using her legs and the bikes propeller system, she lifted the beast over the metal balcony railing. Even from here the woman could still make out the sounds of the onslaught on her front door.
It been a year and a half since she’d rode. After a near miss, she’d promised her father she’d stop riding although she hadn’t bothered to throw the bike out. The stars knew it was too old to sell for anything.
”Please work,” she whispered, her words small puffs of mist. Could she still drive it? Would it handle the extra weight of her pack? It had always been a bit finicky even at the best of times. She certainly hoped so. Death by hover bike accident wasn’t one of the ways she preferred to go.
Before she could think she pushed forward.
Twenty-seven floors of balconies spiraled by as Ryen barrel rolled with her bike. It was a good thing she lived towards the top of the building. The bike’s motor had stalled a few seconds into the flight and had to be restarted. Even after righting herself and making sure her bag was still firmly attached to her person, Ryen’s stomach was in her mouth and red streaked across her eyes where her hair had fallen out of place. Shakily she turned the monster towards the cities Dock district. Buildings of metal and glass glittered in the late morning sunlight. Fortunately, since it was Hopper Day there wasn’t too much traffic on the cities inner skyways.
Ryen sighed feeling deflated. She should have expected this to happen. Less than an hour had passed since her arrival and she was mentally exhausted and physically tired from hefting around her bag and fiddling with her temperamental bike. Combing through Shipyard A and B had turned out to be a complete waste of time. Most of the ships had all the crew they needed. Unlike some destination planets, most of the workers that got off at Syrae got right back on again.
No one needed a mechanic with little experience. Oh sure, there were a few offers but unless she wanted to be shut up with a hodge-podge of mixed species crews that seemed disreputable at best or spend most of the flight on her backside with her ankles in the air, she didn’t have many options. Pink rose to her cheeks as she thought of one of the captain’s illicit suggestions. It was a shame garbage like that would be permanently stuck in her brain until the day she died.
Shipyard C seemed to be about as promising at the other two. This one was dedicated to smaller ships who carried crews of five or so. Sometimes, if there was extra room, they were known to take a civi or two for a price. She wasn’t the only one looking for a ride off world either. Quite a bit of Alexandrion’s citizens had interest in getting off world, either to visit their families or to relocate to another planet where prospects might be better. There were really three kinds of citizens in Syrae, those that worked in the mines, those that worked in science and technology, and those that worked for the miners or the scientists. Since Syrae was known to be a Federation safe haven and to have a stable government, well trained refugees were common. What that meant, however, was that current citizens received little upward mobility. Ryen had been fortunate to have her father, one of the planet’s most respected scientific minds, as a mentor. Most of her grade school friends hadn’t been so lucky. It wasn’t that the city didn’t have good schools, it was simply that they couldn’t keep up with the bright, technological minds the Federation churned out.
Someone shoved into her shoulder hard causing Ryen’s right knee to slam into the bike. ”Hey!” she growled waving her fist, ”Watch were you’re going.” Her irritation only increased when she saw it was a Snarkif, a large desert species with twelve eye stalks. One would think with all those it could have watched where it was going but not one of those stalks swiveled back to see if she was okay. Then Ryen heard yelling in the direction it had rampaged off to.
”Street fight?” Ryen wondered. They tended to be rare in the part of the city she frequented. Curious, she sped off in the direction. As she sped past the still running Snarkif, she made an offensive gesture that would have earned her a lecture from her always-diplomatic father.
She put on the breaks just in time to avoid slamming into a wall of people. Even with her helmet on, the roar of the crowd was deafening.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ”Pick me! Pick me!”
. . . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . ”I need on!”
. . . . .. . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . I’m human… enough…”
. . . . . .”Please, we have a baby!”
Ryen tried to force her way closer to see what was going on but it was difficult. For a woman she wasn’t abnormally short but between the eye stalks, lengthened pinas (or outer ears), hair, fur, elongated snouts, and tusks it was impossible to see. ”What’s going on?” she shouted to the crowd around her but no one paid her any attention.
”… any of you want a shot at joining my crew, you better shut up!”
The voice sounded male and at least, somewhat human. Was it too much to hope for? The crowd around her grumbled but at least started to calm down. That was until he made his second announcement.
…I’m looking for the best of the best for my crew, and I’m not going to settle for anything less!
Then all chaos broke out again.
.. . . . .. . . . .. .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . ”I navigate”
.. . . .. . . .. . . . . ”I’m a cook!”
. . . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. “No! I’m a better cook.”
.. . . . .. . . . .. . . . .. . . . . ”I’m a doctor!”
A fight broke out to her right, two aliens physically arguing over who was better at their job. Ryen hopped on her toes and waved her hands in the air. ”I’m a mechanic!” she yelled, ”I’m a mechanic” It was useless. She doubted if she could be seen let alone heard through all the noise.
She had a crazy idea and only hoped it worked. Ryen set the break on her bike, now completely surrounded by the crowd. At first she tried standing on the foot pegs but she still couldn’t see over the top of the crowd. Carefully she crawled onto the small seat and started to stand. Once she lost her balance and had to grab onto her neighbor. Her hand came away blue and sticky. The Thyroback was clearly annoyed. From her new vantage point she could see the person who was leading the crowd. He looked young and bulky but at least he was human. Ryen began waving her hands in the air tentatively before going all out.
”I’m a mechanic!” she yelled out again, ”I’m a mechanic!” She felt more like a maniac, trying to get his attention while barley managing to stand on the seat of her bike. The ship next to him looked shiny and new. Would he even need a mechanic?
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