In Quaking Hills

by Kate MacLeod

  “About what?” Scout asked.

  “You know more than you’re saying,” Joelle said.

  “About what?” Scout asked again. “I know nothing about you people or your organization, and I’ve tried very hard not to notice things since I got here.”

  “But you do know things,” Joelle persisted. “Ken, motormouth that he is, blabbed about the girl assassins the Space Farers have been sending into prominent Planet Dweller residences. Nearly no one on the surface knows about that. Barely any Space Farers know about that, only the ones in certain upper circles of their command structure. And yet you knew about that.”

  “I’ve heard rumors,” Scout said vaguely.

  “No, you know more than that,” Joelle said, nearly making Scout squirm under the intensity of her gaze. “When Ken said that one of those agents had infiltrated the governor’s home, you said ‘not anymore.’ What did you mean by that? Because to my ears, that sounds like you have some pretty specific knowledge. And if you were telling the truth, you know more than we do.”

  “I don’t remember saying that,” Scout said honestly.

  “You did. At dinner, you said just that.”

  Scout ducked her head to block out those intense eyes and played back her memories from the night before. Oh. Yes, she had said that. Joelle gave a triumphant smile as Scout failed to keep her face neutral at the memory.

  “I do deliveries between cities and towns all over this part of the planet,” Scout said. “I hear lots of things in lots of places. Honestly, I don’t remember where I hear everything. There are rumors everywhere.”

  “I don’t believe you heard such an incredibly specific, timely, and correct rumor,” Joelle said.

  “How do you know it’s correct?” Scout countered. Joelle frowned. Scout bit her lip to prevent her own triumphant smile from emerging. She didn’t know, not for sure. At least, not that the girl assassins were dead now.

  “What happened to you during the storm?” Joelle asked. Scout couldn’t read her tone. Her eyes were as hard as ever, but there was empathy in her voice, like she knew it had been bad and was truly trying to help. Scout bit her lip even harder.

  “I’m not talking about that,” Scout said. “I won’t.”

  “You talked about it to Tucker,” Joelle said.

  “Not really.”

  “You did,” Joelle said. Then, to Scout’s surprise, she heaved a sigh. “Listen—”

  “Knock, knock,” Tucker said from the open doorway. “Are you two having a breakfast party without me?”

  “Not really a party, no,” Scout said. “But there’s food if you want some.”

  “I don’t want to interrupt,” Tucker said, holding up his hands as if in surrender. He gave Scout a grin she had no desire to return, then looked to Joelle. Joelle was slumped back in her seat, arms crossed as she stared at the remains of her croissant. “Joelle? Malcolm was looking for you. I think he needs a thing or something?”

  “Is that so,” Joelle said, her voice completely flat. But she got to her feet, brushing past Tucker as she jumped down and he climbed into the rover. She turned to shoot him an inscrutable look before wrapping the cardigan more snugly around her and disappearing from view.

  Tucker turned to Scout with a shrug. “She gets moods. Especially when she breaks out her mother’s stuff. Although I do like that color on her. Can I sit?”

  Scout waved a hand he took for an affirmative and he sat across from her. He looked into the empty demitasse Joelle had left behind and wiped the rim clean with the end of his shirt before filling it from the decanter.

  “Was she giving you the first degree?” he asked as he peeked inside the basket and fetched one of the remaining croissants.

  “I guess. But why?”

  Tucker, mouth full of pastry, just shrugged. “She likes to be very sure,” he said around chewing.

  “You promised me I could go,” she reminded him.

  “I know. That’s still going to happen,” he said, but she just scoffed and tried not to let him see how hard she blinked her eyes. “It is.” He reached across the table to catch one of her hands and give it a squeeze.

  She let him, but she kind of hated herself for it. This wasn’t the time to start getting feelings or attachments. Especially not with this guy who may or may not be lying to her.

  “I just want to go,” she said.

  “I know,” he said.

  “Not just from here, from this entire world,” Scout said. “I’m done with being here. I haven’t had a place here since my family died. I’ve just been waiting. And I’m so sick of waiting.”

  Some strange emotion rippled over Tucker’s face but was gone too quickly for Scout to identify it. It was like he tucked it away before pushing forward again with his benign charm.

  “I made a promise,” he said. He was probably going to say more, but Scout didn’t want to hear it. No more empty reassurances. She pulled her hand out of his very nicely warm grasp and tucked it back under the table with the other.

  “Why were you at McFarlane’s hut yesterday?” she asked.

  “Hmm?” he responded, but he had stuffed another bite of croissant into his mouth with suspicious haste.

  “There was a reason. You must have left here the moment the storm passed to get there in time. Why the hurry?”

  “He owed us something,” he said vaguely. “I was going to fetch it.”

  “For Malcolm?” He blinked, his face perhaps too carefully blank, and she let it go. “There was nothing of any value in his hut,” she pointed out instead.

  “Yes, I noticed that,” Tucker said with nicely contained sarcasm. “Not only did he stiff us, he was never going to deliver in the first place. I’m not sorry he’s dead.”

  “I am,” Scout said. “He had crimes to be held accountable for.”

  “More than you know,” Tucker said.

  “More than you know,” Scout countered angrily. “A galactic marshal was here specifically to find him and bring him back to justice. He destroyed the lives of people all over the galaxy, not just this miserable heat sink of a planet.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be glib,” Tucker said. “I knew he wasn’t from around here. I used to like to be the one Malcolm sent to negotiate deals with him. If McFarlane wasn’t drinking and was in a reasonably good mood, I could get him to tell me stories of other worlds. Hell, maybe he made them all up, I don’t know, but I loved those stories. I’d love to see for myself which ones are true.”

  Scout swallowed once or twice and got her emotions back under control. “Tucker, what did you negotiate with him for?”

  “I’m sorry. If it were just me, I’d tell you, but I can’t tell other people’s secrets. Especially if it might put them in danger. I just can’t.”

  Scout nodded. He sounded sincere, but then he always sounded sincere.

  “You look like you have one more question,” he said mildly.

  Scout swallowed. There was really only one question that mattered. “Will you swear to me that you had nothing to do with McFarlane being dead?”

  Tucker had a mouthful of croissant, so it took a moment for him to answer. When he did, he leaned forward to grasp her hand again and hit her with the full intensity of those gray eyes.

  “Scout Shannon, I solemnly swear to you, I never set foot inside Farlane McFarlane’s hut until the moment I found you there.”

  “So you didn’t kill him?”

  “Considering I’m the one who found you with a gun in your hand standing over his dead body, and you keep telling me all the bad things he’s done all over the galaxy, I find it odd I’m not the one peppering you with questions and accusations. I guess it’s because I trust you.”

  Scout scowled. “I didn’t draw the gun until you startled me.”

  “If you say so.” Tucker shrugged and reached for the last croissant.

  “I should go find my dogs,” she said, getting up from the table.

  “The last I saw, they were p
atrolling the storage warehouse with Reggie. I’ll show you.”

  Scout hopped out of the rover and turned to wait as Tucker chugged down the last of his coffee and jumped down after her. He brushed back the lock of dark hair that had fallen over his forehead, then thrust his hands into his pockets. It was barely dawn and the air was still cold. Then he nudged Scout’s arm with his elbow to indicate that she should follow him.

  “Do you truly want to leave this place?” Scout asked as she fell in step beside him.

  “Malcolm and the others have been like a family to me,” Tucker said, and Scout nodded. The stomach-clenching feeling of disappointment surprised her. Had she really thought he’d leave with her? After just a day? “But they’re not my family, not really,” Tucker went on. “I would do anything to keep them safe, but I don’t think I’ll ever really feel like I belong here. Do you know what I mean?”

  “Yes,” Scout said. “I think I do.”

  She had put her freezing hands into her own pockets, fingertips brushing the data disks. That was what she had to keep safe. But it wasn’t really connecting her to anything, not in a belonging sort of way. No one had entrusted these things to her. They had just sort of fallen into her lap.

  She took her hands back out of her pockets and caught the sleeve of Tucker’s shirt, bringing them both to a halt. He turned to look at her and Scout stumbled over her words in the sudden realization of how close they were standing to each other. She wanted to take half a step back. It would certainly be easier to talk to him if she did; he was a full head taller than she was.

  But she also didn’t want to step away.

  “Listen,” she said, and he leaned in closer, his eyes intent on hers.

  Then the canyon around them began to echo with the grinding metallic groan of the gate unlatching and swinging open. Scout thought at first that it was Joelle, finally releasing her, if a moment or too sooner than Scout would have liked.

  Then Scout realized what she had failed to notice earlier when she had looked out the rover window to determine if she was moving or not. The motorcycles hadn’t been in their place between the rover and the two jeeps.

  Someone had gotten them outside in the early morning hours without making a sound, when Scout had been certain she wasn’t even sleeping. And now they were back, the two of them on either side of some sort of yoke, towing a wheeled platform.

  And on the platform was a town car. It was covered in red dust after spending several days out in the elements, but it was recognizably luxurious under that coating. Few owned such fine vehicles. Really only the governor of the colonies of Amatheon, perhaps one or two of the mayors of the larger cities.

  But Scout didn’t have to speculate about the ownership or even wonder how such a rare vehicle had ended up so far from where the upper class lived and played. She recognized the town car straight away, although she had only seen it once before. It had belonged to Ruth, the governor’s daughter. She had gotten stranded in it just before the storm.

  She had been driving it out to the hills to meet with the rebels. These rebels.

  14

  The roar of engines made speech impossible until Ken and Bente had unyoked their bikes and parked them on the other side of the rover. Tucker tugged Scout’s sleeve, wanting her to follow him as he went to take a closer look at the town car. Scout dug her hands deep into her pockets but stayed where she was near the door to the equipment room. Then someone jostled her. The sound of their approaching footsteps had been drowned out by the still-droning engines and Scout quickly stumbled out of the way.

  If Malcolm noticed that he had bowled her over coming out of the equipment room, he didn’t react or even look back to see what he had collided with. Scout stepped back out of the doorway in case others would be following in his wake, slumping against the wall and trying not to be noticed.

  Then the two bikes shut off, one after the other. The drone of the morning insects could just be heard in the distance. There was no grass growing in the little nook behind the gate so they had no home here.

  “Perfect,” Malcolm said, clapping his hands as he approached the dusty town car. Ken and Bente emerged from behind the rover, goggles dangling around their necks as they threw back the hoods of their dusters and pulled off their cap-like helmets.

  “It was just where you said it was,” Ken said. “Jacked up on a rock, but Bente got it moved all right. We searched the area in case anything had been dropped nearby but there wasn’t anything.”

  “No, I didn’t expect that there would be,” Malcolm said. “There were only two or three footprints between the town car and the rover tracks. She was definitely picked up and transported.”

  “Rescued or kidnapped?” Ken wondered. “If she had been chased and run off the road onto the rock—”

  “There would have been more tracks in the road,” Malcolm cut him off. “It’s not a road that sees a lot of traffic. But there were just the town car tracks and then the rover.”

  “So it was a rescue. But did she know her rescuers or not?” Ken said.

  “That’s exactly the question,” Malcolm said. “If they were friends, she would probably have taken what she had with her. She would feel safe. But if they were strangers, if she thought they might be a threat, she might have hidden what she had in the town car so it wouldn’t fall into their hands. That’s why you are going to strip this thing down to the bones. We need to be sure.”

  “These newer models have a much more complex design than the older ones,” Ken said. “More places to stash things. It could take all day.”

  “Luckily, you have nowhere else to go,” Malcolm said, clapping him on the shoulder.

  A flicker of motion caught the corner of Scout’s eye and she turned her head to see Arvid tossing canvas bags out the door, making a rough sort of pile outside the equipment room. The bags fell heavily, the pieces inside clanging against each other. Maybe weapons, maybe something else. Definitely not the same bags they had carried inside the night before.

  “Tucker, give Arvid a hand with those,” Malcolm said.

  Tucker had opened the town car door and was running his hands over the panels on the inside but quickly jumped at Malcolm’s command. “Give us a hand?” he said to Scout as he threw a bag over each shoulder.

  She really wished she could remain unseen in the corner, but not complying with such a benign request was likely to draw even more attention. She bent and wrapped her arms around one of the sacks, then staggered after Tucker toward the jeep parked nearest the gate.

  “What’s in here?” she whispered to Tucker as she put her bag next to his two in the back of the jeep. Tucker shrugged, uninterested.

  Arvid came up behind them and Scout stepped aside so he could drop the last two bags into the jeep. He took a moment to adjust the bags more securely, then stepped back and seemed to finally see Scout standing there.

  “Hi,” Scout said uncertainly. He had spoken the night before, so he wasn’t as laconic as his niece, but the eyes assessing her were not exactly friendly either.

  “This is Scout,” Tucker said. “You’ve already met her dogs.”

  Arvid nodded but continued looking Scout over. Scout thrust her hands back into her pockets. The fingers of one hand brushed against the data disks, the other the lens that was required to operate any of the equipment on Gertrude’s belt.

  The belt—she had left it hanging from its hook when she had followed Tucker out of the rover.

  Perhaps it was better she wasn’t wearing it now. The two grown-ups hadn’t seen all of her off-world gadgets yet. Had the others told them about what she had? No one had asked her about any of it, not even Tucker, and yet she doubted very much they hadn’t noticed any of it.

  “Scout,” Malcolm said, his deep voice echoing through the canyon nook. “The kids have been telling me all about you.”

  Scout swallowed hard. There was no way she could safely respond to that without knowing what exactly they had said. Then Malcolm walked over
to stand towering over her.

  He was a commanding figure, tall and the sort of thin that’s all wiry muscle, with a booming voice and an air of expecting to be obeyed. She reversed her assessment from the night before: He was like Joelle but bigger. But there was nothing particularly aggressive about his demeanor as he walked up to her. He seemed just to want to formally greet her, a visitor to his home.

  So Scout was a little startled when Tucker took a step to position himself half in front of her, drawing himself up taller. Not that it helped much; Malcolm was twice his size. Malcolm stopped in front of Tucker, amusement dancing in his eyes. Then he put out a hand and gently pushed Tucker to one side so he had an unobstructed view of Scout.

  Scout endured her second thorough inspection in as many minutes. He even reached out and knocked her hat back just as Tucker had done the day before.

  “Not what I was expecting,” he said in the end and turned his back on her. Scout felt her cheeks flushing as she put her hat back on her head. What did that mean?

  “Sir, I thank you for your hospitality, but I really need to be moving on. I have a place to be.”

  Malcolm turned back to look at her again. Scout stiffened her spine and refused to drop her eyes.

  “No. Not now,” he said.

  “Sir—”

  “Not until we have in hand what we need to have in hand,” he said.

  “I don’t even know what that means,” Scout said, hoping she sounded more clueless than she felt.

  “You want to get out of here?” he asked. Scout nodded. “You want to get out of here in a hurry?” Scout nodded again. “Then help the others tear this car down. No one is leaving here until I have what I need.”

  “Sir—” she started again, but this time when he turned back to her his eyes were so furious she did fall silent.

  “Malcolm, I did promise her,” Tucker said, gently, reasonably.

  Malcolm turned that fiery gaze onto Tucker, who flinched ever so slightly but didn’t back down.

  “Don’t go making promises you can’t keep,” Malcolm said, raising a warning finger. “You’ve already let me down once today.”