by Elin Wyn
I pulled off a strip for her. “It did tear nicely, didn’t it.”
She used the makeshift ribbon to tie her hair back into a simple braid and answered my grin with her own. “I remember.”
I ran my hand through my own short-cut hair. “White. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You weren’t, but honestly, it might not be a bad thing.”
“How do you figure that?”
“First thing anyone’s going to notice,” she shrugged, slinging the small bag from last night over her shoulder and slipping the tablet inside. “It’s enough of a distraction from the rest of the package.”
“We’ll have to hope that works. “ I scanned the room. Nothing left of us here. “Come on, let’s go get a ship. One without trackers this time.”
As we left, I bent down to retrieve one of the hairpins and slipped it into my pocket. A tiny memory of a perfect night.
At the docks I didn’t ask many questions, just wandered, keeping my ears open. A stranger asking about a ship for sale out of the blue would catch too much attention.
Luckily, people love to talk about someone else’s misfortune.
In less than an hour we had a lead on three different pilots who’d had a bad run of luck. Maybe bad enough to need to sell out.
The first one wanted an exorbitant amount for his ship.
Maybe, just maybe we could have made enough with another night of gambling, but it was far more ship than we needed for this run.
“Not worth it,” I decided. “Especially when we have other options.”
The next was a lovely little craft. Clean, the right size for the job. Looked well-kept, though I’d want to see the engines myself. The cargo loaders at the next berth over said the captain was looking to settle down. Was somewhere on the station, but they didn’t know when she’d be back.
I settled down to wait, and Loree curled up beside me, eyes glued to her tablet as she tapped and flicked through screens. “We may have a problem.”
“That wouldn’t be new.”
“No, but we may need to move a little faster. On the chatter for Fentria-3, it looks like they’ll be starting a hiring freeze in the next day or two because of security.”
Crap. “That’s the only way I can see to get inside.”
“I know... but how are we going to get there, and get hired fast enough?”
I stood up, offered her my hand. “Unfortunately, the first step is by not by waiting here for the owner. Let’s keep moving.”
The third ship was...not ideal. I’d flown worse, dealt with twitchier engines. But I was glad that our loudly announced three-week prospecting trip was a lie.
“What you think?”
“I liked the other one better,”Loree confessed.
“So did I. But if your research is right about the hiring freeze, we may not have any choice.”
I didn’t like it. My gut didn’t like it.
But sometimes, there wasn’t a choice. I closed the deal, paying extra to load food and fuel quickly. Loree kept working until I reached over to tweak her braid.
“The system here is fabulous,” she explained, fingers not pausing in their work. “Everyone runs different servers, locked down, bounced and scattered. I can’t get the identities set up that fast, but I can tunnel back to here, leave such a tangle of trails anyone would have a hell of a time figuring out where their systems were breached.”
She lifted her tablet up to my face and snapped. The bright flash left me blinking. “Thanks. Need to plug-in retina scans.”
The spots slowly faded. “Maybe work on our destination, first?”
“Looks like there are only five or six cities on Fetria. Towns really. Sustenance farming, basic food matter exports. Nothing of any particular interest to anyone. But folks looking for something more end up moving to the one larger town, Bartrowe. And that’s where Themis recruits from.”
“Then we’ll start there,” I decided. “Looks like that’s the last of the supplies to be loaded. Let’s go.”
Preliminary flight checks looked within tolerable specs. Still, the nagging feeling persisted.
“Odd question, but could you crash this if needed?” Loree asked.
“It might be better to ask if I can avoid it,” I grumbled, watching the gauges.
“Perfect.”
I settled down as we entered warp space and pivoted my chair to see if she was joking.
It didn’t look like it. “I think you need to explain your plan.”
“I’ve backdated the registration and ownership files. We’re now coming from Voslyn-8, two systems away. With the heightened security on Fentria-3, I didn’t think we’d be able to just land wherever without going through some security at a port of entry.”
“Good plan,” I admitted. “I’ve been thinking we would ditch the ship somewhere and sneak in, but this is better.”
“It doesn’t look like there’s much sneaking to be done.” With the swipe of her hand she threw the screen from the tablet on the ship’s side terminal. “SysSec already deployed satellites around Fentria. Whatever else is going on, they’re taking that job seriously.”
“Good for them. So why are we visiting from lovely.... where?”
“Voslyn. And it’s not lovely, its a desert. We’re coming for the algae.” I knew I needed sleep, because that made no sense at all.
“Algae?”
“Mass filler for replicators. They don’t really have anything else going for them, and algae farming doesn’t take much. Light, brackish water, carbon dioxide.”
Somehow through all of our training, I’d never really thought much about where our protein came from.
“They harvest a few other things, but algae is really what their economy is based on. What there is of it.” She went back to her screens. “We’re looking for new, cheaper strains of algae.”
The idea slid around in my mind, while I tested it for holes. No worse than any number of half-baked plans I’d used before. “Alright, that could work. So why do we need to crash?”
“Because we need a reason to take a job that everyone knows is dangerous. We need to fix up our ship.”
I scrubbed the side of my head. I should’ve thought this through better, but the pressure at the back of my skull wasn’t helping me process clearly.
“Sounds like it could work. Should work, even.”
“I’ll get our IDs and retina scans set up long before we get out of warp.” She looked up, frowning. “How long is that anyway?”
Checked the controls. “You’ve got, two, three hours.”
“Easy peasy.”
I heaved out of the pilot’s chair. “If I’m gonna pretend to crash this thing, I better go check out the engines, see what I’m really working with.”
Loree made little humming noise. Maybe she’d remember where I was going, but I’d bet not.
We bounced out of warp, and immediately were hailed.
“Small craft beacon number 2486SA, come in. What’s the purpose of your visit?”
Loree flipped on the comm. “Hey there! We’re traders, from Voslyn. Here to shop for some algae, our mother stock died last month, over oxygenated, couldn’t get it back up, you know how it is.” She took a deep breath, let all the words spill out like water. “Anyhow, we hear from everyone, just everyone, that the strongest, cheapest algae stock is found here on Fentria-3. So we figured we’d just head over and see what there is to -”
“Please submit your paperwork to the channel coming in on your comms,” responded the exasperated official.
“Happy to,” Loree continued. “While I’ve got you on the line, I wanted to know what you thought about Ciphra-B strand versus Brandon Blue-Green. I think Ciphra-B is best, but I’d love to hear what local folks think.”
“Ma’am,” the heavy voice cut back in. “I wouldn’t know. You’re cleared for landing.”
“Well thank you, sugar. We’ll be right down.”
She cut the mic and giggled. “It
’s amazing how much people don’t want to listen when you try to tell them every. last. detail.”
Following the coordinates, I settled us into an easy glide. Until the cockpit lit up, lights flashing and alarms blaring.
“That’s a great job, I’m impressed you put all that together.” Loree’s voice was bright with excitement. “Good thinking, just in case they check systems logs.”
I kept my focus on the controls, but couldn’t help laughing. “You’d be more impressed if it wasn’t real.”
Loree’s eyes widened and she checked all the points of her harness before carefully tucking the damn tablet into the satchel. “You mean, we really...”
“Hang on, babe. We’re heading down hard.”
Loree
I couldn’t remember. Were you supposed to brace by holding onto something, or relax your muscles when heading into a crash? ’
Surely, I’d read something about this.
The scream of metal twisting around us almost blocked out Xander’s curses as he fought with the ship’s controls. We skipped and bounced as he jerked up, trying to level the craft out.
It’d been just seconds since the alarms started, but already my head ached, like they’d been screaming forever.
I closed my eyes, but that didn’t make it any better.
Just as I thought I couldn’t take the waiting anymore, we hit, the sudden smash jolting every bone in my body. My nails bit into my palms, and with long screech and hissing sound, the ship slid, finally coming to a shuddering stop.
Xander leapt from the pilot seat and had me unbuckled and in his arms before I could blink. “Gotta get out. No idea what’s gonna blow on this thing.”
“I can walk.”
“I know, babe, but the question is can you jump?”
I looked around, confused, and disoriented.
Somehow in the crash I’d failed to notice we had rolled on our side. The portal gaped open, but was now at the top of the rocking bridge.
With two quick bounds Xander carried me out to the lip of the hull, then off again, to the planet waiting outside.
Gently he put me back on my feet, and I swayed slightly on the unfamiliar surface.
Sand.
I looked around. Unbroken stretches of desert unrolled before me off to the right.
To the left lay long dark covered rows, almost as far as I could see.
No other ships were anywhere near us.
“How far are we from the landing field, anyway?”
“I don’t know, I quit looking.” Xander answered. “I was just trying to get us a down in more or less one piece.”
Lifting up onto my toes, I kissed his cheek. “And we are, so I’ll take that for today’s victory.”
“Looks like someone’s heading our way.” Xander faced down the end of the dark rows towards something I couldn’t see yet, while the metal groaned, hissing as it cooled, sinking a fraction more into the desert sand.
My legs a bit shaky, I stepped forward, shading my eyes as the vehicle came into my view. It didn’t look official. But how would I know what official looked like out here? Who was I to force myself on this mission, come up with my crazy plan?
Maybe I should’ve stayed back on Outlander Terminal. Maybe I should’ve gone home to Orem
Xander stepped next to me and the tension in my spine unwound, just a bit.
Maybe I belonged right where I was.
The wreckage stopped shifting and sinking in time for the battered truck to glide to a stop before us.
If this was an official vehicle, the planet was poorer than I’d realized. Once upon a time the truck might have been green and blue, speckled and bright, but the beating sun had faded it to a mottled greenish gray, the fans of the hover-belt screeching as it scattered the sand below it.
A large shape emerged from the front seat, and Xander stepped in front of me.
“It’s all right, look again.”
The man’s steps were half shuffles, his tall body muscled with work, but bent with age. White hair, still thick on his head had been kicked every which way by the wind.
“Not much of landing there, son.”
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Xander’s easy grin slid out, ready to be friendly with anyone. “Bought the ship secondhand, wasn’t as good a deal as we thought.”
Heavy trousers and layers of long-sleeved shirts protected the man from the biting sand. As he stepped past me to examine the crash-site, I caught a flash of movement in the cab of the truck. Someone else was there, waiting. Watching.
“Got anything in there you want to haul out?”
I stuck with our story. “Well, we’ve been hoping to fill her up with algae stock, so it was mostly empty.”
“Except some supplies,” Xander added.
“You’ve got water, and there’s any way to get it out, be a waste to let the sand take it.”
“Wait,” I called but Xander was already in motion, scrabbling up the side of the ship and sliding inside.
“Sir, I think we should step back a bit.”
“What do you think your young man’s going to do,” he cocked a bushy eyebrow.
“There’s no telling.”
I was glad he followed me though as there wasn’t much time between the call of ’beware below’ and the thud of the crates of water and rations we’d paid for back on Outlander landing on the sand.
The old man didn’t say anything, just nodded. “It would’ve been a waste. Better to take it with us.”
Xander rejoined us.
“Is this your holding?” I asked.
“Tillie and I have worked it for coming on seventy years now. It’s ours as much as it can be anyone’s.” He stuck out a hand. “Mills Jorsa. Always nice to meet new folks, even if they drop in on us.”
The joke was so bad I had to laugh.
Xander opened his mouth to introduce us, then paused, flustered. Damnit. He didn’t know what I’d picked for our names yet. I stepped forward, hoping my smile smoothed over any uncertainty. “Xander and Loree Meauneux. Nice to meet you.”
“We’re sorry about that,” Xander continued. “Didn’t mean to come down so close to your land. Is there a mech nearby that could help us haul her out?”
“Might take a bit, but we’ll see what we can do.”
The hours until the hiring freeze ticked off in my mind. “Sir, how far are we from Bartrowe?”
He scratched the stubble on his chin. “Hundred and thirty, maybe forty klicks. Pretty much due west.”
My stomach sank. I’d never be able to walk it, not in time. Probably not at all, even with my new improved legs. Xander could though. With the improvised ID in place he’d be able to get through and I could help remotely and-
“Know anybody that could get us a ride?” Xander interrupted my circling thoughts.
“Son, I’d be happy to, we’re headed that way in two, maybe three days. Need to get the harvest loaded up.”
“I’d be happy to help with that,” Xander said, even as I winced. Two or three days wouldn’t leave much time.
“Be appreciated.” The man looked at Xander’s shoulders. “Expect you could keep up with me.”
He headed back to the truck. “Come on, kids. Throw that water in the back and crawl in under the tarps. We need to get you checked in with Vang.”
I grabbed the smaller of the water containers, refusing to let Xander take all of them.
He tried anyway.
“Who’s Vang?” I asked.
“Well, he’s supposed to be the fellow that talks people down to to the port. Doesn’t seem like he did such a good job with you.”
“Not sure if that’s entirely his fault,” Xander said, lining the water boxes against one side of the truck bed, then lifting me in.
“Whether it is or not, it will be a fine thing to tease him about.” The woman’s voice, high and clear despite the fitness of age, came from the cab. “Sorry I didn’t come out to meet you. My legs don’t do so well on the shif
ting sand.”
Mills slid in to the cab. “Tilly, don’t fill those youngsters’ heads with any nonsense. Vang does his job as well as he can.”
“Which isn’t much, if you ask me.”
As we whipped through this desert I huddled against Xander’s chest. His arms pulled me tight against him as I fought to get my thoughts in order.
“What are you thinking so hard about?”
“Just worrying about time.”
“We’ll make it work.”
I looked up at the still oddly unfamiliar face. But he smelt like my Xander, his chest under my hands was my Xander. “Another one of your hunches?”
“No. I wish it was. We’ll make it work anyway. By the way, same last name?”
My cheeks warmed. “Didn’t bother to change our first names. Too hard to remember on such short notice. Too easy to slip up. It looked like a fairly conservative colony, at least in the beginning. Figured same last name might keep us from being separated. “
“No chance of that,” he promised.
Night fell quickly in the desert, and by the time we pulled into a large corrugated metal building I shivered despite Xander’s heat.
The click of unfolding metal caught my attention as we jumped to the floor. Mills helped Tilly slide into a mechanized walking frame and she stepped towards us, hands outstretched.
“Now I can say hello for real. Nice to meet you.” A broad smile made her beautiful, despite the years. “Not a bad job on the landing. I suspect it was trickier than it looked.’
“That’s all his doing,” I poked Xander. “Either his fault, or his credit.”
I looked around the warehouse. Dark hatches ran down one side, and I suspected they matched with the long covered runs we’d seen in the desert. Neatly stacked rows of waist high cylinders filled about a third of the space, but the rest seemed oddly empty.
“Those vats are what needs to be loaded?” Xander asked. “I can get started now, just tell me where to put them.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Tilly snapped. “It’s suppertime. Growing boy like you needs his food, and Mills wants you to check in with Vang, foolish as that may be. Come on.”