“Oh that conflict was brutal and bloody for both sides. So many lives were lost.” the shopkeeper said in quiet agreement. “But I don’t think that means everyone like you have to continue to suffer because of it.”
I laughed a bit when I heard that coming from her.
“You’d be surprised by how wrong that is. My family is still feeling the effects–after all this time. Our legacy of bloodshed still continues to haunt us every so often. Everybody knows about our infamous family. It’s practically a staple in every settlement or city on the surface.” I said in roiling despair.
The woman was quiet for a moment as she silently digested what I was telling her.
“You can’t really believe that young lady–sorry. What is your name again?”
I sighed.
“Isis McGowan.” I revealed at that point.
“Isis McGowan.” The shopkeeper repeated for my benefit. Then she nodded in sudden recognition. “So I finally get the chance to meet the famous auto-frame pilot of the Viper X-1?”
Surprise etched into my face. “How do you know about that?”
“Auto-frame racing is a popular sport up here in Stratos City. We watch the live feeds every year of the Desert Storm–along with the other racing tourneys during the regular season. The gambling racket up here is big business in Stratos City.”
“So what about you? What do you do?”
The woman shrugged innocently. “I’m just the business owner of this arts and crafts shop. A holdover from the earlier days of my family back in the day. Believe it or not, we’ve been artisans for many years now. And our artwork and crafts are in high demand at the regular art symposiums.”
I found that hard to believe. “You are an artist?”
The shopkeeper nodded. “Yes. A lot of what you see here is of my own creation. And my son’s–if he ever decides to come back from his errands.”
My mouth went a little dry upon hearing that.
“What does he do?”
“He’s an exceptional painter. Gifted by all accounts. Completely self-taught if you want to know–well…maybe a little of that. His father taught him a few things when he was much younger. The rest he picked up on his own or whenever he visited the Museum of Ancient Artifacts.” She prattled on with motherly pride.
Then she held out a hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself. I’m Francine Bella Yelou. But everyone calls me ‘Fran’.”
I took her hand in greeting and shook it warmly. “How about ‘Ms’. Yelou?”
Fran giggled. “I haven’t been called that in years. Not even ‘Mrs’. Though I wish the latter were the case. But that’s a story for another time.”
I shrugged. “I have the time.” I ventured boldly. “I’m still rather new to this place and anything I know about my trip would be of a great help.”
“What kind of trip?” Fran wanted to know.
“Educational. I think.” I told her.
“You don’t know?”
I hesitated for a couple of seconds. “I don’t really know. Calis gave me some pass cards, a bag full of credit chips, and a file folder with the name of a place and a guy who supposedly still runs the joint.”
“And that would be?”
“Well, you just mentioned the Museum of Ancient Artifacts. That’s where I’m supposed to go. I’m supposed to meet someone by the name of Solomon Greer.”
Fran’s eyes lit up then. “Greer? What business would you have with the head director?”
I scratched my head. “I don’t know. I have to ask him something I suppose.”
“You don’t even know?”
“I…know. But I’m not 100% sure yet. There are a lot of questions surrounding my trip which I’m not entirely clear of yet.”
“Like what kind?”
I sighed, toying with one of the open stacks of brushes in their display holders on the top shelf.
“I may sound crazy, but I think it might have to do with the stories and legends surrounding the Starchild of Ancient Lore.”
Fran looked at me for a moment, digesting what I said at face value.
Then she said: “I see. So you also believe the stories are real too?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know, Fran. I really don’t know. But I have to go and see Solomon Greer and ask him some things about it and my trip.”
The woman nodded cagily. “He may not be much help in that department. His focus is on the vast collections of artifacts which have been brought up from the surface. The archeological community is a booming business around here. And we’re always finding things that have possible connections to our distant past.”
“So who can help me?” I wanted to know.
“I don’t know the answer to that question either.” Fran told me. “But I do know that it would be too early to give up hope just yet. I’m pretty sure a solution will present itself along the way.”
My mind momentarily flashed back to the recent nightmare I had of me falling back towards Earth from space and that white celestial monstrosity which ate up my field of vision while swallowing up the space complex at the same time.
The sheer terror I felt seeing it for the first time…
I shuddered violently out of turn–to which Fran took immediate note of.
“I’m sorry. I hope my comment didn’t make you feel put off or uncomfortable.” She apologized deeply.
Drawing a deep breath, I let it out for a moment, before shaking my head again for the second time in a matter of minutes.
“It’s not your fault, Fran. I’m just having some weird experiences as of late. I know it may sound stupid, but I get the sense something is coming and I feel powerless to even stop it.”
“Something you experienced?” The woman ventured out of personal confusion.
I nodded miserably.
“Either it was a bad dream or a fucking premonition.” I whispered fiercely.
The shopkeeper nodded out of genuine sympathy. Then her face brightened a bit.
“I know just the thing to help chase away those bad feelings.” She announced out of the blue.
I looked at her out of blind hope. “What? A blaster?”
“Better than that.” She said, taking leave of me for a moment and going to another area of the shop for a second.
I watched her of course. Curious as to what she might have in store for me. But I turned around the corner to yet another aisle and came across a dazzling display of hand painted dolls–each one six by eight inches tall and gorgeously dressed to match the mood.
Each doll came with its own stamp of authenticity from its creator and I could not bring myself to touch any of them or pick them up.
I was just blown away by the level of detail and artistry put in to these creations. But when I flipped one of the tags over, the price alone took my breath away in a heartbeat.
“Whoa.” I muttered in shock. “That’s more than I make in a given month for my allowance.”
I decided to chance it and picked up one of the dolls and stared at the lace-woven dress, tracing the complex weave patterns etched into it with my fingers.
And in that moment, I fantasized what it would be like to be wearing such attire–seeing how all I had were pants, jeans, and shirts to compliment my wardrobe.
But desert life did not afford such luxuries. But I knew that my mom kept a few of her own for special occasions. I was just the unlucky one that did not.
Except for that one time when we had that family portrait taken, I thought to myself–before Fran came back with something cradled in one of her hands.
Then she handed the emerald green box to me in passing.
“Here you go.” She offered up.
I took the thing from her hands, marveling at the etched pattern on the lid and wondering what was inside.
“What is it?” I asked out of habit, spoiling the surprise and the moment as well.
“Open it.” Fran urged in all graciousness. “It
should help point the way–to wherever you want to go in life.”
I did so–finding this gift to be quite a treasure in itself.
It was an electronic compass.
~21~
Now this was something I could get behind in a heartbeat! I thought with newfound excitement.
This could be quite useful during my outings deeper into the Barren Wastelands or elsewhere.
I nodded my heartfelt appreciation towards Fran for giving me such an invaluable tool.
“Thanks.” I said in quiet wonder. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to get something like this in my possession. Even Calis doesn’t have anything near this fancy.”
“You don’t?” Fran asked.
I shook my head. “No. Older technology and all that. There wasn’t much in the ways of advancements after the Three Hundred Years War for anyone living on the surface as there had been for Stratos City.”
“So everything fell into a state of disrepair?”
I hesitated for a second. “You could say that. But somehow…we managed to rebuild and come ahead in less than one hundred years time. We’re not using the old PAK-107’s anymore. Although, there are some places where those types of weapons are still in play. And having their use.”
Fran shuddered in response to my new information.
“I’ve heard of those weapons. Stolen experimental tech back in the day. Very deadly. Quite lethal in fact.”
“Yes,” I agreed without a shred of guilt in my voice. “They were. That’s why the settlers used them. Our one of many aces in the hole against the Praetorial Guard.”
The shopkeeper nodded in turn. “I can’t say that I approved. But what’s done is done.”
“Naturally.” I returned, flipping the compass cover up. I stopped talking long enough to gaze at the various digital readouts built into what was an old-fashioned face dial. Like the one down in the center of the settlement of Shark’s Bay.
But this face dial was alive with its own self-contained power source and things changed to and fro with every passing second. I touched a couple of the built in buttons and altered the settings a bit before reversing things back to the way they were.
But my fingernails were still plenty dirty from the trip over and up to the space complex and I couldn’t help but notice that–yes–even I needed a bath.
But given the time constraints I was under, I didn’t think I would have the time to search out a customer friendly shower facility.
Fran on the other hand did happen to notice how dirty I was–even though I pretended to think otherwise.
“May I ask when the last time you had a bath?” She wanted to know.
“It’s been a few days.” I admitted out into the open, still engrossed with my new toy.
“Well, it may not be my place to say, but up here we have a strict dress code as well as hygiene–to prevent the spread of airborne illnesses or disease. Even in a clean room environment such as ours.”
I nodded nonetheless.
“I…saw that walking through most of the upper levels. Everything appears to be engineered for a very specific reason.”
“And equally balanced.” Fran reminded me then. “As such, bathing should be a regular thing for you, Isis. Especially if you want to be around people in this day and age.”
“Can’t argue with that. But in my defense, we don’t have that luxury. Water is at a premium on the surface and so we have to go to rations just to make things last.” I explained at that point.
“You have to ration water on the surface?”
I nodded. “Yes. Especially with the prairie bandits and other raiding parties in the desert regions. Water is more priceless than gold itself. But sometimes, more easily stolen. So we guard what we have on hand with our very lives.”
Fran nodded in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that. I thought and believed that society on the surface had evolved to a higher standard after the war.”
“It didn’t I’m afraid.” I told her, before closing the box and putting in one of my hip pocket pouches. “We slid backwards after we won the conflict–because of the twenty year trade embargo which the Praetorial Senate enacted as retribution for the space complex’s immeasurable losses.”
Fran nodded on that front. “I remember that from the Ether Net. A lot more people suffered and died as a result. Then came a period of calm and stability for both sides which lasted all the way up until the turn of the new century–where the Senate finally declared the war officially over.”
“I celebrated that sentiment with two or three bottles of chilled apple cider on that special day. My whole family did.”
“I think we all did.” The woman said in quiet reflection. “I hope we never have to experience something like that which cost the lives of 200,000 people on both sides.”
“Me neither. I think once was enough.” I said, before the front door of the shop opened and the bell chime rang to announce a new visitor and possible customer.
Fran looked up and quickly excused herself to go see who the new arrival was. I hung back of course, not sure if I still wanted to get involved.
I still had places to go and people to see and I needed to formulate a new plan of action now that Fran had informed me of some possible complications to my original trip itinerary.
But things changed quickly enough for me when I heard Fran let out a squeal of delight and happiness and I so happened to catch a glimpse of an older guy spinning her around in his arms like nothing at all.
Everything happened so fast in fact. I didn’t get two seconds worth of detail in the boisterous moment because the guy’s back was turned to me and Fran was just happy as you can get out–upon seeing him.
So I ducked behind one of the standing mannequins and waited for the excitement to die down to a certain degree.
But I could still hear them carrying on regardless:
“Sorry, mom. I had to go and get the store funds verified. Foot traffic was a bit heavy though. Couldn’t get back here in time.”
My eyes practically screwed shut when I heard his voice for the very first time and my body went cold with sudden realization that this was the same guy that I had run into earlier on Level 1774.
Oh my god…! It’s him! It’s my mystery guy! I thought with a rush of dread and personal excitement. How lucky can I get?
I kept pretending I was engrossed in the current art display which was set before me, but I broke out into a cold sweat, making my hands all warm and clammy.
I thumped myself on the head.
Get a grip, will you? This is the same guy that you wanted to kick his ass–remember?
Fran’s voice cut in as the two of them approached my position.
“She’s around here somewhere, Bayen. I only left her a moment ago.” Her voice carried on.
I stepped out of my hiding place and found myself looking at my mystery guy in question. He took that moment to be equally surprised by my sudden appearance before breaking out into a warm smile all his own.
“Ah. Hello there. And you must be Isis McGowan.” He said, stopping short of me in that instant. Holding out his hand, he said: “Welcome to my mother’s shop.”
I quickly wiped my hands on the sides of my pants and took his hand–feeling the strength in his fingers and overall grip.
He definitely was no push over. That much I could gauge. Which meant even if I was in the process of kicking his butt, it would be a pretty interesting match.
“H-hi.” I managed to get out with a slight stammer in my voice. “I’m happy to meet you again. I was so excited by our last meeting, I never got your name.”
Bayen smiled still. “I’m sorry. I was in such a rush, I never properly introduced myself. I’m Bayen Yelou.”
I nodded, a bit entranced by his overall presence. He definitely was interesting to say the least and easy on the eyes.
“Isis McGowan.” I repeated again in greeting.
“So what do you do–if I may ask?”
/> “I’m an auto-frame pilot.” I said, fishing out my identification card for him to see. I showed it to him, thumbing the small panel that would display my name, pilot rank, vehicle of choice, location, and other interesting information.
Bayen was deeply impressed as he listened to the card’s mini-computer’s voice.
“You’re an auto-frame pilot?!?” He breathed, then he nodded in open recognition.
“You’re the pilot of the famous Viper X-1. Everyone talks about you, but I never imagined it would be a woman who was driving it!”
“Gender is usually meaningless if you’ve got the talent and skill to pilot one.” I said in the way of personal acknowledgment.
Bayen nodded regardless. “Yes, I know. Female pilots are a bit of a rarity in the S, L, P, and K circuits.”
“I’m S-circuit. Top rank.” I winked at him in passing–hoping he wouldn’t miss the fact I just flirted with him a little bit.
Bayen did notice that little display from me and blushed a little in response.
“I have no doubt. Anyone who can win the Desert Storm for four years running must be some kind of expert.”
“I had some good teachers along the way. My dad, Calis, Scratch Jones–”
“You know Scratch Jones?” He whispered in amazement. “That guy is practically a renowned legend!”
“He’s also a close friend of the family’s. Mine to be precise.” I said with a sense of pride.
“That would explain how you are able to win so efficiently.” Fran interjected at that point.
“Some would call ruthlessly.” Bayen countered easily enough.
I tried not to sound too smug about it.
“True.” I said, adopting a small pose of my own. “But it works well enough. I have no complaints.”
“So where did you two end up meeting?” The other woman wanted to know.
“Level 1774.” Bayen chimed in quickly enough, drawing an appreciative look from me in turn. “It was…how shall I say it? Accidental?”
“We bumped.” I said in confirmation. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I turned at the last possible second and–”
“–well, I think that was more my fault in reality.” Bayen was quick to supersede on our behalf. “I didn’t realize Isis was standing there until I practically ran into her when she turned around. So the blame lies squarely with me.”
The Starchild Page 16