Junkyard Heroes

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Noa nodded as she scanned her wrist and stepped through. “Good idea.”

  Haydn held out his wrist toward the scanner.

  It flipped to red and a strident alarm sounded, making everyone in front of the gate take a half-step backward.

  Haydn looked up at the lights flashing overhead. His jaw rippled.

  Noa turned to Rozālija. “Why has his pass been revoked?”

  Rozālija glanced at the people watching on the other side of the barrier. “You have to understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “Noa,” Haydn said. “Leave it.”

  “No, I won’t leave it!” Noa flared. “They cancelled it when they questioned you. They can reissue it now.” She glared at Rozālija, whose face was very red and shiny now.

  Rozālija looked at her junior officers, then licked her lips. “I don’t have that authority,” she said quietly.

  “Of course you do,” Noa said. “I’ve seen you issue passes all the time. A two hour is fine for now, while we sort it out.”

  Rozālija shook her head. “Once a pass has been revoked, it takes a formal review to have it reinstated. I can’t let him in, Noa. Not on my own.”

  “This is fucking bullshit!” Noa cried. “He hasn’t done anything!”

  “You’re wasting your time, Noa,” Haydn said. He sounded defeated.

  “I. Am. Not.” She sucked in a breath, fighting to hold in her temper, which wanted to shower over everyone and everything in the area. She wanted to tear things apart. Her fury was huge.

  The crowd behind them was muttering and whispering. Louder comments reached her.

  “He’s the Caver’s son.”

  “But he’s one of the people fixing the ship, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Noa stepped back through the gate and moved to Haydn’s side. He had his back to the crowd. She faced them, instead. “Yes, this is Haydn Forney!” she screamed. “Yes, he’s the son of Farnell Acardi. That means nothing.” She pointed. “You. I know your face. You’re from the Third Wall. Is your father a Waller, too?”

  The man looked taken aback. “He was Esquilino.” He sounded embarrassed.

  “Then why aren’t you?” Noa railed. “He was a trumped up plebian with delusions of grandeur. All Esquilinos are.” It was a common disparagement when Capitolinos wanted to run down their fellow plebeians. “So why aren’t you a pretentious Esquilino?”

  The man looked around self-consciously.

  “Tell me,” Noa demanded.

  “I guess,” he said, rubbing his chin, “I’m not like my father.”

  Noa nodded, as the crowd muttered. “All of you. Think of what your parents are like. Is that you? Are you a perfect reflection of them?”

  Haydn caught her arm. “Enough,” he whispered. “You want everyone hating you, too?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not nearly enough,” she shot back.

  “Noa.” The call came from behind them, from behind the gate.

  Noa turned.

  Magorian stood there, his arms crossed, his brows together.

  She moved back to the gate, but didn’t step through. “You could reinstate Haydn’s pass. I know you can.”

  Magorian nodded. “The revocation is automatic. As soon as someone is detained in Security, all passes into any secure level are cancelled. It has nothing to do with who Haydn is.”

  He was speaking loudly and clearly and Noa knew he was talking to the people standing on the other side of the gate as much as he was speaking to her.

  “Then give him his pass back,” Noa demanded, speaking as loudly as he had.

  “I will,” Magorian said. He glanced at Rozālija and nodded. She moved to the terminal in the gatehouse. “You have my apologies, Haydn,” he added. “I would have done this sooner, if I had suspected you would be on your feet and eager to work so soon after being stabbed and beaten because of your family connection.”

  Noa caught her breath, her anger draining. She glanced over her shoulder as the crowd muttered again. She could hear their surprise. Their dismay.

  Rozālija leaned around the corner of the terminal and waved to Haydn. “Try again,” she said.

  Hayden drew in a breath and moved toward the scanner once more.

  The scanner clicked and glowed green and he moved through.

  The people on the other side of the gate clapped and cheered.

  Noa gripped Haydn’s arm. She was trembling.

  Magorian shifted his head in a “follow me” gesture and they followed him as quickly as they could. Noa couldn’t walk any faster than Haydn because her legs wouldn’t cooperate.

  As soon as they turned into the main corridor, she reached out to hold herself up against the wall. Then she slid down into a heap on the floor below, every limb shaking and her middle, too.

  Haydn stopped with a heavy exhalation, then eased himself down to the floor next to her.

  Magorian walked back to stand in front of them. “Again?” he asked, not unkindly.

  Noa hugged her knees. “I…just need…a minute.”

  “I could use a rest, too,” Haydn admitted.

  Behind Magorian, three black-uniformed guards strode past, smiling at the spectacle they were making.

  Magorian shook his head. “You continually amaze me with how far you will push yourself for the sake of others.”

  “Noa has more courage than anyone I’ve ever met,” Haydn said. Warmth filled his voice.

  “I was talking about both of you,” Magorian said. He glanced along the corridor. “I have things to do. We’re still on emergency status. You two know the way to the workshop, I’m sure.” He nodded at them and strode up the corridor, his long legs swinging.

  Haydn turned to her and kissed her.

  Noa was still recovering from the confrontation at the gate. Yet his lips seemed to spread warmth through her, anyway. Her trembling lessened.

  He cupped her face, gazing into her eyes. “Thank you for what you just did.”

  “I got angry,” she whispered.

  “You get angry over the right things. I’ve wasted most of my life being angry over what I couldn’t change. I finally figured it out, just then.” He smiled. “You’re a bad influence, Noa.”

  He was still stroking her cheek. Her nerve-ends were stirring, coming on-line. “Does that mean you’ll give up and go home and rest, then?” she whispered.

  “I have no intention of giving up. Not while you’re around.” Then he grimaced. “Only…you’re going to have to help me stand up.”

  Noa got to her feet and bent and helped him to his. He hissed, then his breath whistled out, as his torso twisted at the movement. Once he was standing, he held still for a moment, breathing hard. “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you,” he muttered.

  “That you needed help standing?”

  His gaze met hers. “That I needed help. In the worst way. I just couldn’t see it.”

  She knew he wasn’t talking about this moment, about getting to his feet. So she nodded. “Between you and me. Always.”

  Haydn shuffled around in the right direction. “We should get to work. We have a ship to fix.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Six weeks slid by at light speed.

  The major challenge of those weeks wasn’t the building and testing of the suits and the tools they would need when they were wearing them. Processing the long lists of people who wanted to help them do it was a logistics headache that Noa spent days trying to sort out.

  Magorian was sympathetic, but unhelpful. “Finding and utilizing talent is a problem every manager throughout history has had to deal with. There are no stock answers, because you’re dealing with people. Individuals. You’ll figure it out, Noa. I have faith.”

  She put aside the implication that she was a manager of anything. She was simply solving problems and getting things done, as always. They were different tasks than she had once faced, yet it was still just work. Work was
something she knew how to do.

  When Ségolène showed off her latest piece of jewelry at the Midnight Garden one night, Noa found her solution.

  “You want people to make necklaces?” Anselm Bannister asked, puzzled, when Noa spoke to him the next morning.

  “It’s a test,” Noa explained. “Everyone wants to go outside the ship. It’s the new craze, right?”

  “I’ve seen the chat on the Forum,” Bannister said in agreement.

  “There are over a thousand names on Lizette’s list,” Noa said. “We can’t let just anyone go out there. The people we need outside will have to be good with their hands, willing to work and able to work in zero gee.”

  “So recruit all your mechanics and every topman in tankball.”

  “And ship systems and tankball would grind to a halt for the next ten years.” She shook her head. “We have to find the talent we need and we have to train them and test them before we tailor a suit for them.”

  “Building a necklace would test them? What would it demonstrate?”

  “If they build a necklace that is wearable, using gloves and the tools we’ve built, then we’ll know they can work with their hands.”

  “Lots of people are good with their hands. They won’t necessarily be good with their hands in zero gees,” he pointed out. “If Haydn is right, the disorientation alone will screw up half of them to the point where they can’t handle it.”

  Noa nodded. “So, once they’ve made the necklace, they can demonstrate it works by putting it around someone else’s neck and fastening it…while they’re in the zero zone of the training tank facility.”

  Anselm stared at her. Then he started laughing.

  “What’s funny about that?” Noa demanded. “It will sort out who can work outside.”

  “It will,” he agreed, getting himself under control. “It’s the vision in my head of people rolling about in the zero zone, trying to get delicate jewelry to cooperate that is making me laugh. We’ll have to keep children out of the training room while they’re being tested, or they might hear words they shouldn’t get to know until they’re much bigger.”

  Noa smiled. “Just for that, I’m putting you to the test first.”

  Anselm’s shoulders were still shaking with mirth. “Fine. So long as you’re second.”

  The testing of potential outside crews started a week later. So did the swearing that Anselm had predicted. He had graciously put himself through the first stage of the test as a trial.

  “It’s a very simple design Ségolène developed,” Noa explained to everyone who had gathered around to see the first trial. She held up the ordinary chain and the beaten metal medallion that hung from it. The medallion had a pattern of punched holes across it, in the shape of a flower. “I watched Ségolène make this with the tools on the workbench there, so it is possible to reproduce it. You’ll also have to attach the clasp, which is more of a challenge.”

  “Looks simple enough,” Anselm said, rolling up his sleeves.

  “It is,” Ségolène said, “but it will test your dexterity, all the same.”

  Anselm got to work while everyone watched. He joked with his audience for the first while. Then, as the work didn’t progress as he wanted it to, he frowned and concentrated on the task. Finally, at the end of the hour, he tossed the gloves on the workbench and swore. He sat back, glaring at the shapeless lump of silver in front of him. Then he laughed and looked at Noa. “You’re right. This will sort out your recruits better than any aptitude test I’ve ever taken and I’ve taken more than my share.”

  Noa asked Lizette to coordinate the trials. A section of one of the long workbenches was dedicated to testing candidates. Noa asked everyone who was currently working in the workshop to take the test, before anyone on Lizette’s list was called in. As she had promised Anselm, she went through the test herself, before anyone else.

  At the end of the hour, Noa held up the passable necklace for everyone to see. She received a little wave of applause, as Cai settled himself on the stool next to her, rolling up his sleeves. “My turn,” he said shortly. “Someone time me!” He pushed his hand into one of the fits-all gloves.

  Noa reported to Anselm at the end of the week that everyone currently working in the workshop had passed the first stage of the test.

  “That’s not a surprise,” he said. “Everyone is working here because of already acquired skills with their hands and because they have an aptitude for the work. When you start testing civilians next week, the bounce rate will be higher.”

  Before Lizette started the testing for the people on her list, Noa arranged for the first dozen people who had already passed the test to take the next stage of the testing. She arranged for an hour of tank time in the arena training room. As she had for the first stage of testing, she included herself in the first tank trial group.

  A large audience gathered for the first trial. Even Magorian spared a long twenty minutes from his demanding day to stand and watch as they twisted and rolled and tried uselessly to swim back into position.

  What Noa had not anticipated was the laughter the trial would generate. Nor had she understood how difficult it would be to do something so simple as fasten a necklace around someone else’s neck.

  She had given everyone very little instruction. “Find someone to put the necklace on. Put it on them. You have thirty minutes. I expect you to be done long before then,” she had told the other eleven people standing in front of the training area.

  Haydn was a part of that group and when Noa climbed up the ladder into the zero zone and floated out into the middle of the tank, along with everyone else, he sought her out. “Come here,” he said shortly, tugging on her ankle, causing her to drift over toward him.

  “Do you want me to hold on to you, while you do that?” she asked, for Haydn’s necklace was floating up from his left hand. It was an odd-looking thing.

  He had finished his necklace long before the hour was up. Ségolène had completed the test in the fastest time and was the current record holder. Haydn was second. He had attacked the making of the necklace with a silent, intense concentration, his hands moving swiftly, as if he had mentally mapped out what he was going to do long ago.

  Now, Haydn shook his head. “You need to hold on to yours.” Instead, he transferred his grip on her ankle up the length of her leg to her knee, then tucked her knee between his thighs and clamped it between them.

  Noa drew in an unsteady breath. She could feel the heat of his body through the fabric between their knees. His grip was powerful.

  They were rolling slowly over and around, prompted by their movements. Haydn’s back bumped into Cai’s. Cai let go of his necklace and cursed, reaching up for it. The reach pushed him downward.

  Noa realized she was looking at the bottom of the tank and the audience there, yet to her, they looked as though they were standing on the roof. She was hanging upside-down and it didn’t feel like it. It seemed as if everyone else was inverted.

  “This is very weird,” she said.

  “Imagine what it will be like wearing forty kilos of suit, with limited vision, when you’re outside,” Haydn said. “Swing your arms backward,” he directed. “I need you to lean toward me so I can get this around you.”

  She leaned forward, only it pushed her feet backward instead and the lean became a roll. The world righted itself again and the top of the tank became the roof once more.

  “Stars, I feel sick,” someone said.

  Noa looked over her shoulder and the movement turned her in that direction in a slow pirouette, bringing Haydn with her.

  Jenny, the fabricator, was clutching her stomach.

  “Push her toward the ladder,” Cai called. “Let her climb down. Quick!”

  Many willing hands edged Jenny toward the ladder. She gripped it and hauled herself downward, until she reached the mid-zone and mild gravity pulled her around the right way. She leaned against the ladder, breathing hard, then started climbing down.


  “Does anyone else need to get out?” Noa called.

  “I’m dizzy, but I’m handling it,” Peter said. He had copied Haydn and had a grip on Ségolène’s knee with his own. Ségolène was fighting to control her hair, for the clips had come loose and her hair was waving like sea fronds.

  Not for the first time, Noa was glad she kept her hair short.

  “Ten minutes gone!” Anselm called from the floor.

  The rolling and giggling continued.

  Haydn tugged on Noa’s elbow as they cartwheeled slowly, still locked together by their knees. “Grab my shirt,” he told her. “Pull yourself closer.”

  Noa didn’t reach, this time. Instead, she waved her hands backward, which had the opposite effect of making her lean forward. Her chest bumped against his and she gasped as her breasts pushed against him. Moving slowly, she brought her spare hand up between them and gripped his shirt.

  Haydn put his arm around her, locking her in place. “Now you can move freely and it won’t put distance between us,” he told her.

  She met his gaze. Her cheeks were heating. She was highly conscious of his thick thigh between hers. They were sandwiched together by his arm locked around her back.

  His gaze was steady, his eyes dark and unrevealing. “Go on,” he told her, his voice low.

  She could feel the rumble of his voice against her and her body grew warmer, her nerves fluttering. She separated the necklace clasp, then circled his neck with her arms, bringing the chain around with them.

  The medallion flipped up and hit his chin, then floated away. He blinked and laughed.

  Noa fumbled with the clasp. It wouldn’t cooperate, even though it was a simple mechanical open-and-close loop that locked in the loop on the other end. She could do it without looking when she put a necklace on herself. It was different, putting it on someone else, plus the chain was drifting and bunching and getting in her way, instead of hanging down like a normal chain would.

  “Why did I have to make this so hard?” she complained. “I can’t see….”

  “Here.” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her, sliding her up the length of his body. She could feel his necklace biting into her waist, for he had not let it go.