Wastes of Space

by Darcy Town

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” He eyed her. “How far did you get?”

  She smiled and pocketed the movie player. “Through all three and into the first again.” She touched her lips. “I liked it.”

  “Favorite part?”

  “From the entire thing or from each movie?”

  “Each movie.” Rake held her hand and crossed the street with her in tow. He scanned the streets, the shops, the windows. He anticipated an attack, but nothing came. He took her towards a corner market. “What did you enjoy?”

  Ravil smiled. “I liked the light sticks.”

  “Lightsabers.”

  “Yes, those.” Ravil smiled. “Those would be wonderful!”

  “Says you and every other fanboy in the universe.” Rake grabbed a poster when he walked into the shop. He made saber sounds and bumped it on her head.

  Ravil smiled and grabbed one, parrying his blows. “I liked the furry bears too.”

  “Girls.” He snorted. “You’re the same everywhere.” He examined the other patrons, sizing them up in seconds.

  “They would be cute pets.”

  “Pets? The Ewoks are not pets.” Rake walked into the cosmetic aisle. “They are fierce little shits, and they’ll fuck you up.” He looked down at her. “Though they’d probably think you were one of them.”

  She hit him. “I am not that short!”

  “Okay Bebette, if you say so.” Rake grinned and selected a box of hair dye and bleach. He snagged two pairs of sunglasses and a candy bar before paying at the register. He tore the tag off a pair of rose-colored glasses as they walked onto the sidewalk. “Put these on.”

  Ravil did. “Now what?”

  He looked at her through his new sunglasses. “Now we…” He ate his words. “Now I—”

  “You said we.” She saw his expression and let it drop. “What are you going to do now?”

  Rake looked at the building above the shop, the lights off in every window. He jumped on a dumpster and offered her his hand. She took it. He lifted her up and pushed her over his head onto a fire escape. He climbed up after her and ran from window to window, peering in each. Rake found one unoccupied and grinned. He popped the window open and slid inside, beckoning her to follow. Ravil did.

  Rake slammed the lock on the window as soon as she was in. He checked the empty apartment quickly and made sure each lock was secure. He flicked the lights on in the bathroom and opened the boxes of hair dye and bleach. He proceeded to cover his green streaks in bleach.

  Ravil stepped into the bathroom and watched him. “What are you doing?”

  Rake washed his hands. “Can I borrow one of your knives again?”

  She handed it to him without thinking. Rake took it and pressed her into the wall. She hit his leg. “What are you doing?”

  Rake pulled her hoodie back. “You’re obviously too pretty to sickos, sorry.”

  Ravil screamed. He covered her mouth. She bit him and he let go. She covered her cheeks. “Don’t cut my face!”

  Rake took a step back. “Cut your face? What kind of fucking weirdo do you take me for?”

  “You’re pointing a knife at my face.”

  He looked at the knife. “I am pointing the knife at your hair, which is seconds away from being on the floor.”

  Ravil touched her white-blonde locks in shock. “Why?”

  He smirked. “This being hidden stuff is not really your thing is it?”

  “It should be.” She looked at her hands and laughed weakly. “I’ve been hiding for years.”

  “Well you suck. Where were you hiding, Sweden?”

  She looked up at him. “Sweden?”

  “Land of the icy blondes.” He waved the knife around. “Where else could you walk around as blithely as you do and not get caught?”

  Ravil blushed. “I had Calpsan and Sirana and Paulos to help me, they kept me safe.”

  “The old guy?”

  “He was not old.”

  Rake smirked. “Matter of opinion.” She didn’t reply. He eyed her and noticed her empty gaze. He grimaced. “Sorry he got shot.”

  “He died of heartache.”

  “No one dies of heartache.” He grabbed her hair and sawed at it, leaving an inch or so behind. “Stop squirming.”

  “You’re pulling my hair and yes people do!”

  “I wouldn’t be pulling it if you weren’t moving!” She went still and he relaxed his grip, taking his time. He turned her face to the side to get towards the back. “Who did he love?”

  “Sirana.”

  Rake kept cutting. “His wife?”

  “His mate.”

  Rake smirked. “Where the hell are you from? Who uses that term?”

  She bit her lip and improvised. “A ways away, I guess, I’m alien to here.”

  Rake grabbed her chin and pulled her glasses down. He stared into her pink irises. “You’re only alien here because your stupid guardians took you to Asia and you’re the whitest white girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Ravil slapped his hands away. “They’re not stupid. They were trying to get me away.”

  “Away from who?”

  “Hunters.” She kept her eyes from his.

  “You have bounty hunters after you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Ravil looked up at him. She thought about telling him the truth, but her orders from Calpsan had been clear. Her feelings warred, settling on a middle ground. “I have a something they want, something they have to recover.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Did you get any sleep earlier?”

  “I am fine!”

  Rake held back a smile and resumed cutting. “Uh-huh. So when you said the Empire was looking for you, you weren’t kidding.”

  “I was telling the truth!”

  “Well.” Rake grinned. “Aren’t you just the special kid.”

  “It’s true! Calpsan and the others died for it. They protected me, and kept me out of the Empire’s hands.”

  “Ravil, did you hit your head?”

  “No.” She blushed.

  He finished sawing off her hair. “Uh-huh.” He poured dark goop on her head and rubbed it in.

  Ravil grabbed his hand and held onto his thumb. “What are you doing now?”

  “Making you a…” Rake picked up the dye box. “Auburn beauty with looks that will sten. Sten? Must mean stun.” He handed her the box.

  Ravil looked at the color photograph. “I’ve never met a pale redhead before. Does your coloring convey gifts too?”

  Rake looked at the color box. “Well, you’ll have looks that will sten. That sounds pretty amazing to me.”

  She grinned. “No, I mean will—”

  He threw an old towel on her face. “Keep that in for a bit.” He washed out the bleach in his hair. The color had leeched out, leaving him with pastel green mingled in with the black. “I think I kind of like that, what do you think?”

  Ravil pulled the towel off her head. “You don’t believe me, that there are Hunters after me.”

  He looked down at her. “Would you believe you if you were me?”

  She frowned. “Probably not.”

  “There you go. Come on.” Rake pulled her out into the living room. He sat underneath the window and patted the spot next to him. “When was the last time we had a clear night?” He smiled and looked to the stars. “I used to do this when I was your age, wondering what they looked like from space.” He sighed. “They don’t look any bigger when you get up there though. That was kind of a disappointment.”

  Ravil gaped. “You have been in space?”

  Rake shrugged. “I am, was, a jet pilot, munitions specialist. Spent some time on our space station too, the US Liberty, haven to shifty fucks like Mica, bad food, and even worse entertainment.”

  Ravil jumped in his lap and grabbed his shirt. “You’re a pilot!”

  He pushed her off him. “Yes. I had my own ship. They’re small only room for two maybe, depends on the mod
el, but mine was a dual. A gunner and pilot, I could do either, usually did.” He smiled at her excited expression. “Why are you so insanely happy? No one cares about that anymore. That’s like knowing how to write with a pen.”

  “Where is your ship?” She grabbed his collar. “Where is it?”

  “In a scrap yard in Texas, along with every other ship we had.” Rake grabbed her wrists and pushed her back. “Don’t you remember the Space Silence and the peace that came with it? The big decommissioning of everything wonderful and awesome that had been produced in the last forty years?” His mood turned black. “Scrap yard, thrown away, just like the pilots. Treated as if we were worthless, reckless, wastes of space.”

  Ravil trembled with excitement. “I came just before, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  He glanced over at her. “You’ve been on the run for awhile?”

  “Yes.” She sighed. “This feels great, being able to talk to someone else about it. Don’t you think?”

  “Sure.” Rake nodded slowly. “You’re going to wash your hair now and go to sleep. You obviously need it.” He got to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

  Ravil did not look happy, but she followed him. “Rake?”

  He stopped at the door. “Yeah?”

  She looked up at him. “Are you going to try and leave me again?”

  He leaned on the doorframe. He glanced between her and his feet. “Not tonight.”

  “But, Rake.”

  He pushed her into the bathroom. “Don’t make me promise anything. Wash your hair, go to sleep. We can talk tomorrow when you’ve come down from whatever sleep-deprived high you’re on. I’ll have some pillows and stuff together for you when you come out.” He closed the door.

  Ravil stared in the mirror. Excitement made her heart race. He was a pilot, a real one. He had been to space. Her blood burned at the thought of returning there. She smiled and whispered, “Calpsan.” She turned the faucet and watched the water pour out. “Did you know he was a space pilot when you found him?” She smiled and cupped her hand under the water.

  She poured water over her head and watched red dye swirl around the drain. “Sirana would be happy, he can kill as good as she can, they would have gotten along. I think he can kill a Hunter.” She smiled at the thought. “He can kill it for you.”

  Ravil stared at her dyed hands and grinned. “He’s a pilot! Just like Paulos. He has sense just like you, he’s just as you said he would be, Calpsan. I think I should trust him, maybe he could even get me to the others.” Guilt pained her as soon as she said it. She stared into the mirror and apologized, “You knew best of course, I have no sense of people, like you always said.”

  Rake frowned from his spot outside the door. He stepped away quietly and went to the window. He stared up at the stars. Ravil’s voice drifted out of the bathroom, she sang the Cantina Theme song. He shook his head and smiled. “Strange little bug.” He stared at the bathroom door and fingered his necklace. He slid down the wall and gazed into the darkness, replaying his conversation with Mica.

  ***

  The Hunters had followed Kennedy’s lead to an overcrowded apartment complex and entered without any trouble. On a first glance, they looked human enough to slip in and out of places without being noticed. Looking harder a person might become aware of their pointed teeth, strangely upturned top lip, and the light bluish-green pigment spots that decorated their bodies from the neck down, but Hunters could smell changes in mood. An overly observant person would be dead before realizing that something was amiss.

  They had found the person they hunted for in a top story apartment. The blinds were shut against the outside, the door locked. Screams went un-muffled, common enough in the complex not to warrant notice or help from the neighbors.

  Kennedy killed too easily and Lincoln ordered him to wait in the kitchen. The teenaged Hunter sat on the counter and rifled through boxes of rainbow-colored cereal. He stuffed handfuls of it into his mouth. He trembled from a sugar high.

  Marx wandered into the kitchen, leading a young girl by the hand. He stared at Kennedy. “Why are you eating that?”

  “I like! This sugar tastes sweet!” Kennedy licked his gloves and eyed the child with Marx. “Why are you holding a cub?”

  Marx looked down as if he just noticed the child. “Lincoln asked me to, so I am.”

  Kennedy dropped into a crouch on the countertop. “May I chase it?” He looked up at Marx and purred. “I will not kill. I just want to play, bat around.”

  Marx frowned. “He did not tell me to release it to you.”

  Kennedy twitched and bounced on his fingertips. He leapt. Marx slashed him across the face. Kennedy flipped onto the counter and landed on his feet. He knocked boxes of cereal over. His eyes darted to the Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms. He pounced on the colored pieces, cereal crunched under his hands. He grinned and smashed it all, enjoying the sensation. He licked the sugary dust off the floor.

  The child stared blankly, in too much shock to react. Marx pulled the child out of the room.

  Lincoln looked up. “Can neither of you remain calm for just a short while?”

  Marx sat down on a couch and set the girl beside him. “I have no problems remaining calm. It is your partner that is not calm.”

  Lincoln wrinkled his nose. “I will speak to Kennedy.” He looked down at the dead man. “This one also saw the same man, but only gave an object to identify him.”

  Marx cocked his head. “An object?”

  Lincoln nodded. “He called him a Rake.” He mimicked using a rake. “Odd.”

  Kennedy bounded into the room. “Perhaps he is gardener! With fruits from trees? More sugars for eats! More sugars for eats! Fruity Loops with Charms and Pebbles and—”

  “Kennedy, calm.” Lincoln stood and licked blood from his hands. “How many more do we have to follow up on?”

  “Just two!” Kennedy held up two fingers. “One is at warrior base, the other moves.”

  Marx nodded. “That warrior base is the closest to our current location. We will go there first.”

  Kennedy smiled. “Signal weakens. Prey is hurt, perhaps at hospital place? Hard to get in and out of with his pack nearby? A challenge for us?”

  Marx frowned. “We can just call ahead and gain entrance. It will be no challenge.”

  Lincoln smiled slightly. “We do not operate that way. We may not kill the Navigator, but we have license to kill as many of these Wasters as we want. We like fighting our way in and out, it keeps our skills sharp.”

  “I see.” Marx stood and set the child down on the bloody couch. “Shall we go now then?”

  Kennedy raced out the door. “I lead you! I lead you! I lead you!”

  Lincoln followed him.

  Marx trailed the two. He waved at the little girl, closed the front door, and left the child in the dark with the five broken corpses of her family.

  ***

  Rake licked his lips and opened his eyes. He lay on the floor up against the wall. The window above let in moonlight. He had no idea how much time had passed since he’d fallen asleep, but the sky outside was dark and the room was silent.

  A faint glow caught his eye. He looked down. Ravil slept on his right side with headphones in her ears. She used him as a pillow, her head rested on his chest, her arms around his stomach. Sometime while he’d slept, he’d wrapped an arm around her shoulder to hold her in place. He stared at the limb, surprised with himself. Ravil shifted and mumbled in her sleep.

  Rake turned off the player, but she did not wake. He pulled the device out of her limp grip, popped the earphones out of her ears, and set the player by her side. He pulled up the blankets she’d kicked aside. He looked at his options for arm movement, trying to think of a place he could move his arm that would result in him not touching her and not losing feeling in it.

  He lifted his hand off her shoulder. She felt the movement and moved up higher in her sleep until the top of her head bumped his chin. Rake kept his arm in th
e air. He glared at the ceiling. Sleeping next to someone was not something he put high on his list of things he typically did or liked doing.

  Ravil mumbled and he gazed at her face. Her heart beat against his chest in a soothing rhythm. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. He had to admit that this wasn’t terrible. In a way, he found it oddly comforting. She smiled in her sleep and he smiled with her.

  He let his arm drop back to her shoulders, propping her up so she wouldn’t slide off and hit her head on the hard floor. If she did, she’d just wake up and start crying and that would be annoying. There, justification. He kept his grip on her firm and didn’t think on it too much.

  She made a face in her dreams and kicked him in the shin. “Wookiee, smells.”

  Rake closed his eyes. He drifted into sleep with a smile on his face.

  ***

  Rake woke up to sunlight flickering across his eyelids. He kept his eyes closed, listening. He heard Ravil breathing, still sleeping. He smelled the cheap conditioner that always came along with hair dye. Ravil had turned in her sleep and slept on top of his right arm. He moved his shoulder slightly and winced. The entire limb was asleep.

  He made to roll her off when he heard a faint click. Shadows interrupted the sunlight from the window. Under the blankets, Rake pulled his syringe gun from the floor. He checked it was loaded and cocked the muzzle towards the light. He fingered the syringe inside and cringed. If he shot this he’d only have three left, still, rather that, than be dead.

  He fired and rolled to his feet as the glass broke. A man keeled over on their balcony, touching the emptied syringe in his chest. Rake kicked out the rest of the glass. He tossed the gun to the floor and grabbed for his knife. He ducked his head out on the balcony, but no one else was in sight or climbing up.

  Rake pushed the man to the alley below. The corpse landed with a thud, blood pooled out from his head. Rake grinned. “Good morning, Bangkok.”

  He backed up into the apartment and turned around. “Hey Ravil, I—” He stared into the barrel of a gun.

  The Asian man beyond the gun coughed and spit up blood. He looked surprised and staggered. Ravil pushed him over, pulling her Bowie knife from the gash she’d made in his stomach. The man collapsed on the floor. Ravil stared at the knife in shock as if it had acted on its own.