by Kate MacLeod
“Speaking of parents,” Liv said from Scout’s other side, “where are yours?”
“Dead since the war,” Scout said, she hoped forcefully enough that Liv would drop the matter.
“Soldiers?” Liv asked.
“Civilians,” Scout said. “They were in Sunshine Valley.”
Viola and Liv both sucked in a long breath. “I’m so sorry,” Liv said, reaching out to grasp Scout’s hand.
“That must’ve been hard for you,” Viola said. “What were you, twelve?”
“Ten,” Scout said. “I’ve done okay.”
“Sunshine Valley,” Liv said as she chewed a bit of bread. “A lot of communications officers were stationed there.”
“My parents worked in communications, before I was born,” Scout said. “They left the military to start a bakery.”
“And you were away the day the rock fell,” Liv guessed.
“Rock fell,” Ruth said bitterly. “Nice. Like it just happened to happen.”
“We all know how it happened,” Viola said.
“And we all know who made it happen,” Ruth said.
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of all this,” Ottilie said. “Your daddy’s been on about it for years now and what good does it do?”
“What good does it do?” Ruth repeated, and Scout could sense a lengthy lecture coming on. She wasn’t entirely annoyed when Liv clutched her hand to get her attention. Liv gestured with her hand for Scout to lean in closer.
“I’m just wondering—is it possible I knew your parents?” Liv asked.
“I don’t know, were you familiar with the bakers of Sunshine Valley?” Scout asked.
“No, I think I knew them from before then. From my work in communications.”
“Not in Sunshine Valley.”
“Yes, actually. I had been transferred to the capital just two weeks before that day,” Liv said. “But I think I remember your parents. Your father, his name was . . . Antonio? He had dark, thick, curly hair and a great big smile. Your mother I don’t remember as well. She was so quiet. But she had your eyes.” Liv reached up and pushed back Scout’s hat. She lifted the sweat-dampened curls off of Scout’s brow. “And your hair. It’s hard to tell in this light, but I bet it shines like honey in the sun.”
“I don’t know, it’s hard for me to see it,” Scout said. But it felt like a fist was squeezing her heart. She truly didn’t look at her own hair much, but her mother’s she remembered very well. It had indeed shone like honey in the sun.
“They were working with the rebels, weren’t they?” Liv said, leaning closer still to whisper directly in Scout’s ear. She pulled back and gave Scout a knowing smile. Scout felt like her ears were ringing, like the whole rest of the room had faded away. Could it be true?
“They were bakers,” Scout said, but not as certainly as she would have liked.
Liv looked her over very carefully, as if the truth of the past were written on her face. She smiled again and gave Scout’s hand a pat. “As you like, dear.”
“If they had been spies, they would’ve left the city. Right?” she asked.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Liv said, turning her attention back to her food. “It was a long time ago. I’m probably misremembering. And it was all just rumors anyway.”
Scout looked down at her food, no longer hungry. Why was Liv bringing it up if it all had just been rumors?
But maybe it hadn’t been. She remembered again that momentary look on her father’s face. Had he known?
The argument at the other end of the table had also ground to a halt, apparently with many bad feelings all around. The muscles in Ottilie’s arms were tense, her grip on her spoon so tight her knuckles were white. Ebba was looking at her with fond concern. Ruth looked like she might burst into tears but had no one to comfort her. Clementine was ignoring everything around her, poking with her spoon into a bowl that was more bread than soup. Viola also seemed unconcerned with the others around her, ladling more soup into a bowl and helping herself to another crusty roll.
Scout got up from the table, nearly tripping over Shadow, who had been lurking near her feet. She gave him the uneaten half of her roll, then went over to the bar where Warrior was sitting alone next to the cat. The cat was quite asleep, and Girl had also conked out, limbs sprawled everywhere behind the bar. Warrior had that strange tablet in her hands again, thumbs moving over invisible keys with dizzying speed.
“How’s Tubbins doing?” Scout asked.
“Well enough,” Warrior said, not looking up from her tablet.
“I guess you weren’t hungry,” Scout said.
“I don’t eat much,” Warrior said. This time she glanced up at Scout briefly. “Did you eat?”
“Some. I wasn’t really hungry,” Scout said.
“Filled up on biscuits back in the rover, eh?” Warrior said.
“Something like that.”
Warrior glanced up at her again. There wasn’t much to that movement. It was impossible to track her eyes behind those lenses, but Scout could see her chin move up just a bit and knew when Warrior was looking at her and, as it moved back down, when she wasn’t. “Something bothering you, kid?”
“Liv said my parents were spies.”
“Ah,” Warrior said. “That must be startling to hear from a stranger.”
Scout couldn’t tell whether Warrior was teasing her or not. She decided to assume not. “It might make sense though.”
“You’ll have to tell me how that makes sense,” Warrior said, her thumbs over the invisible keys never slowing.
“There’re just so many coincidences,” Scout said.
“You mean the eight of us all finding each other out here where people generally aren’t?”
“Partly,” Scout said. “Not just that, though. You know there was a war here.”
“I’ve gathered as much.”
“It ended six years ago. The Space Farers caught three asteroids and threw them down from orbit. One of them landed on my hometown.”
Warrior finally set the tablet down, resting her hands on her knees as she gave Scout her full attention.
“I wasn’t there that day. Obviously,” Scout added. “My father sent me away. He sent me on a delivery, by myself, to the next town. He had never done that before.”
Warrior seemed to think about this for a minute. “So you think that means he was a spy?”
“Why else would he send me away?”
“You were what, ten?” Scout nodded. “Ten. Old enough for a little responsibility. Any siblings?”
“I had a baby brother. Not yet one.”
“And you had done deliveries before?”
“Only in town. He bought me a bike—not the one I have now, a different one. It had a basket in front and another in back, and I delivered bread and other things all over town. But only in town.”
Warrior looked down at Shadow, now at Scout’s heel, having finished the bread. “And you had your dog with you.”
“He always came with me. Our town was safe, but sometimes my father worried.”
“Well, do you want my opinion, kid?” Warrior asked, sitting back on the barstool.
“Yeah,” Scout said.
“It sounds to me like your father just thought you’d shown yourself capable of more responsibility. You being gone that day of all days? That was just bad timing. Like you said, coincidence.”
“But if he had been a spy—”
“If I were you, kid, I’d want some proof before I believed such a thing,” Warrior said, reaching for her tablet.
“It’s not so crazy,” Scout said. Warrior just shrugged. “And it is weird, all eight of us being out here. There is nothing here to make people come out this way. Just the rebels, really.”
“I can’t speak for Liv, and maybe not for Ruth or Clementine either, but the rest of us are only out here because we followed the beacon.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like maybe I was meant to be out here,” Scout sa
id, thrusting her hands deep in the pockets of her cargo shorts and avoiding the glare from those reflective lenses.
“How’s that?”
“There must’ve been a reason I wasn’t home that day. And if there was a reason for that, then there must be a reason I’m here, now.”
“Kid, I haven’t been all over the galaxy, but I’ve seen more than my fair share. One thing I can tell you: reasons like the ones you’re looking for are rare things. Mostly you just deal with what’s in front of you and hope for the best.”
“What’s in front of me now?” Scout asked.
“Well, the solar flare for one,” Warrior said. “If I were you, I’d be a little curious why someone wants you to think your parents were spies. That’s a weird thing to tell someone you just met.”
“Can you tell me why you’re chasing this fugitive?” Scout asked. “Does it really have nothing to do with the rebels?” Or with her or her parents, she wanted to add but didn’t.
“I really can’t tell you. But I can tell you it’s got nothing to do with any of you, I promise.”
“I suppose it’s a much bigger matter than the war on my little world,” Scout said bitterly.
“Bigger? I don’t know. It’s just a different thing. I don’t go in much for comparisons,” Warrior said.
Warrior’s blank slab of a tablet made a sudden trilling noise. She picked it up and looked at it intently. There was another noise coming from somewhere else in the room, a repeated beeping. Viola got up from the table and headed to the doorway directly across from the tunnel they’d entered from. The light came on as she stepped inside and Scout could see walls lined with equipment, panels of buttons, and screens filled with information displayed so small she could read it from where she was.
“What is it?” Ottilie asked. “Another storm warning?”
“No,” Viola said over her shoulder as she scanned the screen. “This is from the planetary news service.”
“They’ve declared a state of emergency?” Liv asked.
Scout was wondering the same thing. A piece of news that set off the alarms—what could it be short of war?
“No,” Viola said as she strolled back into the room. Her eyes were on Ruth, and one by one they all looked at Ruth as well.
Ruth had her fingertips pressed to her temples, resting her elbows on the table. She didn’t look good. She hadn’t looked good when they picked her up, but she was much worse now.
“So, what was the news?” Ottilie asked.
“Someone has been declared a traitor and a spy. She’s wanted by the authorities. They are asking for any information on her whereabouts. She’s been declared so dangerous they’re willing to travel even through the solar flare to retrieve her.” Viola leaned in behind Ruth to whisper loudly, “Seems she didn’t just betray her government; she’s betrayed her own family.”
12
A hush fell over the room. Warrior moved to stand at the head of the table, opposite Liv. Scout followed, Shadow close at her side. Ebba clasped Ottilie’s hand and Ottilie squeezed back. Clementine’s eyes moved around the table from one of them to the next, but her face was inscrutable. Was she looking for allies for herself and Ruth, or was she looking to change loyalties, to find a new patron to protect her? When her gaze fell on Scout, she just stared back, trying to put all her disdain into her eyes. Clementine smirked ever so slightly, then looked briefly at Liv at the end of the table.
Liv was leaning forward, elbows resting on the arms of her chair and fingers steepled under her chin, waiting with rapt attention for Ruth to speak.
Viola remained standing just behind Ruth, towering over her with her arms crossed. Ruth seemed to have collapsed in on herself, her entire body shaking as if she had caught a chill.
“Please,” she said, her teeth all but chattering. “Please, you don’t understand.”
“What don’t we understand?” Ottilie asked.
“You were right,” Ruth said, dropping her hands to look directly at Ottilie. “You’re right that war is coming. You’re right that my father wants to see it happen. All of this ‘Planet Dwellers first’ talk? He knows that’s going to lead to war.”
“I’ve heard that same talk from you,” Ottilie said.
“I had to play along,” Ruth said earnestly. “Don’t you remember what happened to my brother?”
“The official word was that he was resting,” Ottilie said. It was clear from how she stressed that last word what she thought of that explanation.
“He’s under house arrest, at our family ranch way out west,” Ruth said, her voice cracking. “I haven’t seen him in years. For all I know, he’s already dead.”
“Why are they looking for you now?” Scout asked.
“I . . . took some things. Information. Intelligence.”
“So you are a spy,” Viola said almost smugly.
“Yes, maybe, but not for the Space Farers.”
“You were going to give it to the rebels,” Scout guessed.
“I was going to talk to them,” Ruth said. “I’ve been in communication with them for some time now, but I’m not sure they can be trusted. I have important information, and I want to stop the war, but I’m not sure who to turn to. The Space Farers I’ve spoken with say all the right things, but there’s just something in their eyes. I’m afraid they want war as much as my father does. The rebels don’t want war, but I’m not sure what they do want. I just came here to talk to them.” Then she gave a humorless laugh. “Bad timing.”
“Maybe we should see what you have,” Ottilie said.
“No,” Ruth said, shaking her head repeatedly.
“How can we judge whether or not to trust you if we don’t see what you have?” Ottilie persisted.
“Please,” Ruth pleaded.
“Perhaps we should look at this from another angle,” Warrior said.
“What do you mean?” Viola asked.
“Reporting Ruth would mean bringing government officials here, in the middle of the storm. Is that something everyone here is cool with?” Her reflective lenses bore down on them all.
“She might have a point,” Ottilie said reluctantly.
“Damn right she’s got a point,” Viola said. “I don’t need more people in here.”
“I promise you, nothing I have is going to draw danger down on any of you,” Ruth said.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Viola said. “They’re still going to be looking for you once the flare passes. I imagine they’ll follow you here.”
“I’ll be out the door the minute it’s safe to go outside,” Ruth promised. “I just need a little head start.”
“If you want to report her, tip them off and get your reward—can you wait until the flare passes? Give the rest of us a head start too,” Ottilie said.
“Who said anything about a reward?” Viola asked.
“There’s always a reward,” Ottilie said. Viola just chuckled.
“So we’re agreed?” Warrior said.
Ottilie and Ebba readily nodded. Viola waved a hand dismissively. Clementine was as silent as ever, but then she was hardly likely to raise an alarm, was she? Scout nodded when Warrior turned those lenses on her. Only Liv seemed still pensive, chin resting on her fingertips.
“Liv?” Warrior asked.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. No need for authorities if you’re all so jumpy about it,” Liv said, but she still seemed lost in her thoughts. Scout wondered if she was just deflecting, pretending to defer to the others as if it didn’t matter to her. How had she gotten out here, all alone in a hover chair, and why?
“Thank you,” Ruth said. “You’ll all understand later what this means. I truly believe by letting me go you’re saving lives, not just on the planet but also up in orbit.”
As if needing to prove herself useful, she pushed away from the table and began gathering dishes to carry back to the kitchen. Ebba got up to help her, and Scout reached for the bread basket.
“Do we bed down here?” Ottilie ask
ed, looking around the room. There was certainly room enough for each of them to spread out a bed roll or curl up in a blanket.
“Can do,” Viola said, “but you’d be more comfortable in the barracks, I think.”
“That does sound more comfortable,” Ottilie agreed.
Scout brought the bread basket into the kitchen and set it on one of the counters. Ruth was loading dishes into a washer and Ebba was scraping the last of the soup into a storage container. Scout looked longingly at the refrigerator, but it was the complete wrong time of day for jolo. If she had one now she’d be up all night. And she was feeling worn out. She had biked only a fraction of the distance she did in a normal day, but pedaling at full speed with Warrior’s weight as well as her own had taken its toll. She didn’t want jolo alertness now; she wanted deep, restful sleep.
The others were trickling out of the kitchen, following a lighted path past the communications room to a long, narrow room lined with bunks.
“What is this place, really?” Scout asked, pausing in the middle room to look over all the screens. There were cameras posted at several entrances, and a blank screen over the door Ottilie had blown open with the mining charge that Scout guessed was from a camera. Another screen was charting the coronal mass ejection with even greater detail than Warrior’s little device. Scout leaned in to read some of the text. “You’re getting feeds from space?”
“Yeah,” Viola said. “My equipment predates the war, and no one bothered to lock me out of anything. I’m not sure if they even know I’m down here. This was a way station for the early explorers. The entrance to the hangar for rover storage is buried now, but everything still works.”
“We followed your beacon. It’s still signaling,” Scout said.
“My grandparents stayed on here after the city domes were completed. This wasn’t really needed as a way station for explorers anymore, but it became a supply post for those sorts who aren’t really town-living folks. My parents kept it up, and now me. Not too many customers these days, but enough to get by.”
“Where’s Ebba?” Ottilie asked, poking her head into the communications room from the barracks.
“Still in the kitchen, maybe?” Scout said, looking back into the main room. Warrior was still there, running her hands over the cat. Girl was sitting up, ears all cockeyed as she blinked sleepily at the activity around her.