Among The Stars (Heinlein's Finches Book 2)

by Robin Banks

  Alya scowls up at him. “Can you stop talking about me as if I were a pony in need of gentling?”

  Kolya pats her. “Too small for a pony. Also too bitey.”

  I feel suddenly exhausted. This is too much, too early in the day. “What the hell kind of place is this?”

  “It’s going to be ok. Hopefully. We’re just trying to reduce our chances of future clusterfucks. Maybe we’re fretting over nothing. It’d be good if that was the case. It’s not for you to worry about, anyway. You’ve got enough going on as it is.”

  She’s not wrong.

  My morning starts with a lecture from Tom about the importance of keeping on Hugh’s good side. I then spend several hours doing three people’s work, which is just fantastic, while trying to locate Hugh’s good side. I’m unsuccessful on both counts. By lunchtime I’m starving, but as soon as I’ve finished eating my lunch it decides that it’s not going to go down without a fight. After a brief but intense struggle, the lunch wins. Then I spend the afternoon doing two people’s work, which is nearly restful compared to the morning, while listening to Hugh complain about how hard our job is. He would know that: he’s spending so much time observing it. All of this with the most vicious headache I’ve ever had.

  The guys come back from rehearsals when I’m just finishing up, or giving up – I’m no longer sure. Alya takes a look at me and sends me home. Hugh has the bright idea to follow me there. All I want to do is slam the door in his face, literally and repeatedly. That’d probably be too loud, though, and not in the spirit of the friendship I’m trying to build. When Tom rolls up and invades my bunk, I’m almost grateful. Almost. I’d prefer it if they fucked off and left me alone, but I guess that’s not an option.

  I should be glad, though. Tom entertains Hugh until Hugh’s had enough entertainment. That takes a while; there’s a whole load he needs to tell us about his daddy, his houses, his ATRs, and the circus he’s going to have any time soon. I’ve heard it all already at least twice over, so I just lie down on my bed, stare at the ceiling, and play music in my head. Hugh doesn’t seem to care whether people are listening provided they don’t stop him talking, so it’s not a problem. When he finally fucks off it’s rather late. Tom’s all smiles and happiness until the door’s shut behind Hugh’s ass, then his face drops and he throws himself on the bed next to me.

  “Godsdammit. I was hoping we could hit the bubble again.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I thought we could go back to that restaurant.”

  “I don’t think they’ll feed and water us for free indefinitely.”

  “That’s not why I wanted to go there.”

  “Oh.”

  “You got a problem with any of it?”

  “No. Good for you to get out. Meet people. Whatever.”

  “Ok, then. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “I guess we’re gonna have to work out some kind of schedule. So we don’t fall behind on any of our hustles.”

  “Say what?”

  “You’re trying to crawl up Sean’s ass while courting Hugh while doing whatever with those guys up the bubble. It’s gonna get chaotic. Too many hustles, not enough time.”

  “That’s what you think?”

  “What, have I missed something out? I can’t keep up. Sorry.”

  “You’re being an asshole.”

  “Am I now?”

  “Yes, you are. What do you think I’m trying to do here?”

  “Hedge your bets?”

  “I’m trying to make sure we don’t end up on a street corner.”

  “And we can’t do that by just doing our damn jobs?”

  “Yeah. Sure. That has worked so well for us up to now. Hestia was a fucking close call, and you know it. I didn’t see you stepping up then. I don’t see you stepping up now. I don’t see you coming up with alternatives. I just see you moaning about the hustling you’re not even doing – that’s what I see. You think you’re better than me, don’t you? You’re so damn superior when it comes to doing stuff you don’t like, but you’re ok reaping the benefits. I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of you doing fuck-all, and then rubbing what I’m doing in my face.”

  He gets up and walks out. He doesn’t even slam the door. I stare at my ceiling until the lights go out. Then I just stare into the dark.

  In the morning I get up, make my coffee, and go sit on Tom’s steps. I don’t want to miss him.

  Kolya and Alya do their usual morning bullshit and then go off to the stables. They give me a weird look on their way over, but they can go hang. I’ve done enough work the last few days to have earned a few minutes for myself.

  Tom gets out at the last minute, as per usual. He may just get to work on time if he hurries. When he seems me sitting in his way, he doesn’t look pleased at all.

  “I’ve got no time for this.”

  “You’re right and I’m wrong.”

  “Say what?”

  “You’re right and I’m wrong. That’s all I wanted to say.” I get out of his way and he climbs down.

  “Ok. So we’re cool?”

  “That’s up to you. I was the one in the wrong.”

  “You serious about this?”

  “Yup.”

  He nods. “Alright then.”

  “So we’re cool?”

  “Yeah. We’re cool. You don’t deserve me, though.”

  “That I know.”

  “Gotta go to work.”

  “Yeah. See you tonight.”

  Everything is easier now my head is in the right place. Work is still hard, Hugh is still a twerp, the guys at the restaurant are still somehow off and have taken to calling me ‘princess’, which I really don’t appreciate, but I can deal. I know what we’re doing and I know why we’re doing it. I just gotta get down and do it. It’s all good.

  Things ease off when rehearsals stop and the shows start. Tom is back to working with me in the morning. I don’t know whether I’m happier that he’s there to shovel shit or Hugh-sit: both are hard work. Tom disappears off at lunchtime for his free meal at the café, when he gets the opportunity to suck up to the show folks. I’ve been so busy working that I haven’t even met them yet. I walk around the site surrounded by strangers.

  In the afternoon, Tom and Hugh go off to be ring boys, and Alya and Kolya come to help me. After the last show, Tom’s pals swing by in their ATR and take us over to the bubble.

  That’s the aspect of our life I can understand the least. If it’s a hustle, it’s the slowest hustle ever. Nothing seems to be happening. Tom and his friends eat and drink and chat for as long as they can, which isn’t long at all, then Tom kisses his buddy a long and sloppy-looking goodnight, and we go back home. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this is a proper courtship. Maybe I don’t know better. Maybe my brain is lagging behind the events. Either way, Tom is happy. That’s what matters.

  Our lives have been so busy and chaotic that our moving day takes me totally by surprise. That doesn’t make any odds, really. I just do the work that’s in front of me.

  We’re coming out the stables ready to start the pull-down, when I spot an ATR parked just outside our tunnel.

  “Tom? That’s your boyfriend.”

  He comes up to have a look. “Oh. So it is.” He says it so casually, but his face looks really weird. Kind of sad and happy and panicked and relieved all at the same time. “Can you tell Alya I won’t be a moment?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  For a change, he’s true to his word. He’s not long at all. Just as well, because I think Alya’s about to flip out at him. When he walks back over and she sees his face, though, she backs right off. I’m not surprised. I don’t know what the fuck went on in that ATR, but it wasn’t good.

  “Tom? You alright?”

  “Yeah. Tell you later. Let’s just get on.”

  We get the pull-down down in no time. Tom’s going at it so hard I’m struggling to keep up. Hugh is worse than useless, unsurprisingly, but I’m too concerned about Tom
to be worrying about him.

  When we’re done and get on the ship, Tom goes straight into the bunk room. I want to go with him, but I don’t want Hugh to follow me in there, so I’m stuck. Alya seems to catch that, because she smiles half a smile at Hugh and calls him over. “Would you like to take the co-pilot’s seat?”

  “Yeah. Cool. My father’s ships…”

  I get the hell out of there before anyone can stop me.

  Tom’s in his bunk. He’s already strapped up, staring at the bunk above. I get into my spot.

  “You alright?”

  “No.”

  “What happened?”

  “Julian has been talking about how they’re always hiring guys for the restaurant. You know, friends of theirs. They always have work for the right people. Easy work, too, compared to what we do, and the pay is ok. It’s not much, you know, but it’s steady and we’d get looked after. Well looked after.”

  My heart sinks. I don’t like those guys. I don’t want to be dependent on them. I can’t argue that it wouldn’t be a step up for us, though. “So you want to go for it?”

  “Not an option. Turns out that there’s a hitch.”

  “What?”

  “They prefer to hire friends. You know, good friends. Close friends.”

  “So? You seemed to be getting pretty friendly.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s not that he doesn’t like me.”

  “I should think not, way he keeps checking out your tonsils.”

  “It’s just that he likes you better.”

  It takes me a while to make sense of the words. When I do, I still don’t get it. “What? I’ve hardly given him the time of day.”

  “Yeah. Apparently that’s what he likes. I don’t know.”

  “I swear I didn’t do anything. I swear I didn’t.”

  “I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault. You were just there.”

  “And you wanted to stay?”

  “I thought about it. I thought it’d be nice. For both of us. You know, not for you to… I thought he… Oh, fuck it. We could stay. The both of us.”

  “What?”

  “He’d have us both, or neither.”

  “Both as in…”

  “Yeah. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know. I didn’t see this coming.”

  “Gods.”

  “Yeah.”

  We lie there in silence for a while. I don’t know what to say. I can’t apologize for doing something wrong, because I didn’t. I can’t apologize for not wanting to go for it. I can’t think of a sensible thing to say. There’s something I need to know, though.

  “Tom?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did you actually like the guy?”

  He turns around to face me then. He looks really pissed off. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was just a job.”

  “Ok. Sorry.”

  2.

  When we get to our new site, after we’ve sorted the animals out, Alya tells us to turn in.

  “Get some sleep if you can. It’s going to be a slow build-up. We won’t start for hours and we’ll be lucky if we finish before the day is out.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. You can do whatever you want, but I’m going to sleep.”

  Tom still looks like shit and I’m in no mood to do anything, so we go to the bunk room, Hugh in tow. He takes my bunk without asking. I know him too well by now to be surprised. He still manages to exceed my expectations, though. Ten minutes into us lying down, he’s still fucking talking. I’ve told him that we’re trying to sleep about a dozen times. It just doesn’t seem to register.

  Tom get up on one elbow to look at him.

  “Hugh? Shut up.”

  “What?”

  “Shut the fuck up. We’re trying to sleep.”

  “How dare you…”

  “Shut it. Now. Or I will make you.” He looks like he means it.

  Hugh shuts up. I guess that’s the end of this hustle.

  The convoy takes forever to arrive. Bad pull-down, I guess, but I can’t imagine why. The build-up seems to go on forever, too. Looking out our window, I can’t understand the problem.

  “Alya? What’s up with them? They’re crawling.”

  “Oh, that’d be Sean. He’s a great and powerful leader, so he has to control people’s every move. Even though they know what to do and how to do it, they can’t do it until he tells them to. It slows everything down.”

  “So why does he do that?”

  “He’s an asshole. Haven’t you been paying attention?”

  “Guess not. So what do we do?”

  “Rest while we can. Hope the animals won’t be too cross tomorrow.”

  “This is going to fuck us up, isn’t it?”

  “Yup.”

  “And it’s like this every time?”

  “Yup.”

  We finish our build-up so late that the boys have already started their morning chores. The day drags on from there and turns into a blur. By the evening I’m barely coherent, so when I see a ship leaving the site it doesn’t really register. I carry on with my shit on automatic pilot.

  When the stable visits are over, I realize Alya’s not there. I swear I just saw her.

  “Tom? Where’s Alya?”

  “Parker called her over for a meeting.”

  “Can’t be. His ship left this afternoon. I watched it go.”

  “Sean came over to summon her to an urgent meeting.”

  “This time of night?”

  “Like we keep normal times.”

  “Where did he say the meeting was?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Fuck.”

  I start to run towards the office, but I’m not very far before I see that the lights in there are off. I can’t think where else they could be, so I just dash around the site until I spot them through the windows of a wagon. She’s sitting in a corner, looking deeply unhappy. He’s standing in front of the door. I can’t see his face, but I can tell he’s angry by the way he’s moving. I stand and watch for a while, wondering whether the door is locked in case I have to barge in, until Sean walks off to the front of the wagon. As soon as the door is clear, Alya bolts out like her ass is on fire. I catch her by the arm as she streaks past me and pull her into the shadows between two wagons. She nearly lumps me one before she recognizes me.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Shush.”

  We watch Sean stagger out and head towards the stables. When he’s out of earshot, I spin Alya round and hiss in her face. “What possessed you to get in there with him?”

  “He said Parker wanted a meeting…”

  “This time of night? In a wagon?”

  “I didn’t know where we were going until we got there.” She’s trembling. I’m an asshole.

  “You scared the fuck out of me. I’m sorry.”

  “Me too. I want to go home.”

  “No can do. Not until he gives up looking for you.”

  “Shit. What about Kolya and Tom?”

  “They’re big boys. They’ll be fine.”

  We hide until Sean staggers back, then we head home. We find Kolya and Tom in the kitchen. They’re sitting down quietly, but something is wrong with Tom. His eyes are so wide they’re showing more white than brown. When he starts talking, he speaks so fast I struggle to follow him.

  “Alya, that guy is not ok. Not ok at all. He had a screaming fit at us because you weren’t here and we couldn’t tell him where you were. He threatened to cut our air.”

  “He did what?”

  “He said he’s gonna cut our air while we sleep. He said all sorts. It was like he was a different person.”

  Alya sinks into a chair. “Well, there you go. You’ve just met drunk Sean. I thought Parker had got him to knock off the habit.”

  I sit across from her. “Parker’s gone. His ship left today.”

  “Well, shit.” She sags in her seat. “That explains it. I bet he’s not going to come back either. Probably off to his
main show. Makes sense.”

  “What does that mean for us?”

  “It means things could get lively. And it definitely means that I have to be more on the ball.”

  When the alarm sounds, I catch Tom outside, peering into the dark.

  “You alright?”

  He jumps out of his skin before catching himself. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Whatcha looking at?”

  “Cables. Pipes.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “He could cut off her air. Or ours. I heard him. He meant it.”

  “Are you ok?”

  “No. I’m not. Everything’s gone to shit. Everything I was hoping for.”

  “We still got our jobs.”

  He turns to look at me, blinking furiously. “I don’t want to be here. Not with that guy. I’d rather be at home.”

  “Shit. Ok. So we leave as soon as we can.”

  “And go where?”

  “We’ll find something. Everywhere we go, we look. Really look. Something will come up.”

  “I want to go now.” He’s close to tears, which is a bad sign, and he doesn’t seem to care, which is even worse.

  “We can’t go now. We’ve got nowhere to go. But as soon as we can, we go. Ok?”

  “Yeah. Ok.”

  “You wanna stay in my bunk tonight?”

  His mouth twitches. “Can’t. If he does cut our air we may have enough left to get to morning. Together in a bunk we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  I want to tell him that this is ridiculous, that nothing like that is going to happen, but Tom knows his way around drunk people. He’s got a lifetime of experience dealing with them. All I can do is settle him in his bunk and hope we’ll both pull through the night.

  Tom looks much better in the morning, but he’s still determined to get out of here. I agree to go to the employment bureau at lunchtime, mostly to calm him down. When we ask Hugh where it is, he tells us that there isn’t one. As far as he knows, there isn’t one anywhere on Megaera.

  “Everyone here who’s not first class has a job. That’s why they’re here.”