Snared

by Elin Wyn

  “Handrail to your left,” Mills said. “Mind the rise.”

  My steps echoed as we walked on something hollow.

  “Sometimes the wind comes up so strong the sand can blind you. Fast enough to strand you between the house and the shed,” Mills explained. “No getting lost this way.”

  The hitch and clank of Tilly’s walker echoed softly. No getting stuck in the sand for her, either. Thoughtful.

  The bridge entered a short coverage tunnel. The exterior door slid behind us, then the whirr of an air circulator sounded.

  “Helps keep the dust down, just a bit,” Tilly confided. Cycle finished, the interior door opened. Light bounced from smooth curved walls, highlighting the rich textured fabrics that covered chairs, pillows and draped the entryways leading further into the house.

  “These are beautiful,” I murmured, itching to stroked the deep cyan cloth on the wall next to me.

  Tilly waved off the words. “Just something to keep me busy. When the winds up, we’re pretty much stranded in the house.”

  “You can only play so many hands of tonk,” Mills agreed.

  “It’s my turn to finish up dinner,” Mills said.

  Tilly shooed him away. “Get Vang on the comm and our visitors checked in. I can manage to pull a meal out and plate it.”

  She moved behind half wall and we heard a clatter of plates.

  “Should we offer to help?” Xander asked.

  “If she said she can do it, she can,” I reminded him, more heat in my words than I meant.

  Mills nodded. “Don’t let the braces fool you into thinking she’s not stronger than anyone you’ve met. Besides she’s right, need to get you checked in.”

  With careful hands he unhooked a brightly striped hanging to reveal a commpanel set into the wall.

  “Don’t have much use for it,” he explained. “Better have it covered than let it stare blankly into the room.”

  In moments a harassed looking young man appeared on the screen. “Mills, ain’t got time to chat. Somebody crashed somewhere out of town, SysSec is up my ass asking about it, but won’t let me patch into our own satellites, and nobody is answering hails.”

  “Well,” Mills snapped, “if you’d stop talking and listen for a minute, you’d learn something. I’ve got your new guests right here.”

  I stepped to the screen and waved. “Hi!”

  The man’s shoulders slumped further. “Hello, ma’am.”

  “Was it you I was asking about algae strains?” I shoved the chipper tone back into my voice.

  “Yes ma’am, yes it was. Luckily for you, your new host can answer all about that.”

  I pulled the tablet out of the bag and waved it in front of the camera. The screen was cracked but I’d still get it to operate. But this man, Vang, didn’t need to know that. “I wish I could send over the rest of our paperwork, but until we can get back into the ship I’m not sure what to do.”

  “No worries,” he answered. “I can pull your basic identification from your flight documents. That’ll do. Now, can you explain the cause of the crash?”

  I stepped away, let Xander take over. Machines I was good with. Comms I was a wizard at. Ships and engines, not exactly my thing.

  By the time Vang was satisfied a bewitching smell wafted from over the partition.

  “Don’t much care for those replicators,” Tilly said as Xander and I cleared the dishes. “Not that I mind using them. That be more than a bit hypocritical. For just a little extra effort and were all happier.

  “But the carrots,” Xander argued. “If they’re not from replicator, how did you shape them?”

  Tilly and Mills stared, then laughed. “We grew them.” Tilly said. “Doesn’t take much algae for the three of us,” Tilly corrected as Mills face grew stony, “two of us, doesn’t take much land. Algae makes for fine compost. That, time, and a little bit of hydroponics, and we get by.”

  An awkward silence settled on the table.

  “Sir,” Xander started, “would you mind showing me what we’re going to do in the morning? I always sleep better knowing what’s ahead.”

  I squeezed his hand quickly. Had there ever been a time Xander couldn’t think fast enough to deflect whatever the day threw at him?

  The two of them left, deep in discussions about haulage and lift parameters.

  I ran my hand down the crimson runner draped over a side hutch. “Are your dyes from the algae as well?

  “Different strains. Let me show you this one.” Tilly’s leg braces froze mid-step. “Dammit.”

  “Do you want me to take a look at those?” I asked softly. “I know what it’s like to be dependent on something you can’t trust.”

  I loosened the joint enough for her to move to a padded chair I suspected Mills had built for her, with a double set of armrests that let her pull herself down safely.

  “There’s tools in that chest over there.” She rubbed her knees. “Should have everything you need.”

  I pulled it out, found a set of micro-goggles and a driver and got to work. “Looks like a little bit of grit in some of the workings, and one of these servos fried. Let me see if I can reroute it.”

  “If you’re handy with machinery like that, maybe you could look at the loader in the shed tomorrow.” Tilly pulled a blanket over her legs, opened up the side of the table near her and pulled out yarn, began to work.

  “Well, I won’t be much help lifting those barrels.”

  “We all do what we can.”

  I reset the frame before me, flexed and tested them. “Almost done.”

  By the time Xander and Mills returned I’d readjusted most of the joints in the walking frame. “Should be smoother now. Take less effort.”

  Tilly put them back on, tested them herself, nodded in satisfaction. “Good work. Appreciate it.”

  “Sweetheart,” Mills poured a glass of water and handed it to Xander. “I’ve made a bit of a bet.”

  “Really.”

  “This boy here thinks that he can have the crawler loaded with the season’s harvest in time for us to get to Bartrowe by dark.”

  “I’d rather we managed it in time for you to be back home by dark,” Xander said. “You’re braver man than I am if you want to be stuck out in one of those storms you warned us about.”

  “He might have a secret weapon, you know.” Tilly smiled at me. “Sounds like it better be an early night. Let me show you to,” Tilly faltered for a minute. “To the guest room.”

  The frame working properly now, she strode easily before us, pulling back the drape from the third smooth arch in the hallway leading from the main room.

  “Privacy booth’s one more door down,” she said. “I’ll call you for breakfast.”

  I stared at the fallen curtain.

  “The walls are pretty thick, but the door...” I trailed off.

  “Isn’t really there. I noticed.”

  I snuggled into his chest as he turned down the lights to a gentle glow.

  “Do you think-” I broke off, as Xander spoke the same words. “You go.”

  “This could be us someday? Maybe not the farming,” I clarified.

  “Or the sand.”

  “But how much a part of each other they are? That’d be nice.”

  “Someday. But not yet,” Xander whispered, his hand running up my leg, leaving a trail of shivers in the wake of his touch.

  I squirmed against him.

  “The door, remember? There’s not one?

  “You’ll just have to be quiet.”

  “What? No!”

  He moved down the bed, stroking and petting, teasing my nerves with every caress.

  “I didn’t kill us today, I think I’ve earned a reward.” His hand drifted lightly over my folds, and I bit back a moan.

  “I can think of other rewards,” I forced out, reaching for him, but he lightly batted my hands away.

  “This is what I want,” he insisted, then slowly, maddeningly, licked my inner thigh from knee t
o my hot core. Then the other leg.

  Soft kisses turned to nibbles, intensity increasing until I fisted the covers. He forced my bucking hips down, no escape from his devouring touch.

  When he finally pierced me with his tongue, I held the pillow over my mouth to muffle my scream, helpless against the fire between us.

  Xander

  Void take it. Those barrels were unwieldy, even for me.

  I stopped and stretched, counted what I’d loaded, what was left. Not enough, and too many was the short answer.

  Nothing for it but to keep pushing.

  “Hey, you.” Loree came into the warehouse, carrying a tray with two covered bowls. “I thought you said it was a bad idea to skip meals.”

  She put the tray down on the corner of a workbench and waited for me to wrestle another of the barrels onto the back of the long bed of the freight hauler before sneaking in a kiss.

  I grabbed her, let her lead me over to the enticing aroma coming from the bowls.

  “Is it as good as Doc’s oatmeal?” I teased, sliding the cover off the closest dish to reveal rice with chopped veg and shredded protein mixed through with something golden and spicy sprinkled on the top. I grabbed it and dug in.

  “Judging from how you’ve almost finished one and are eyeing mine, I’d say it’s a close race.” Loree pushed the second bowl my way. “There’s more, I promise.”

  The first wild crush of hunger sated, I watched her examine the items on the workbench while I ate.

  “Looks like someone had a chemistry project going. I’m not sure what all of these are for, but it’s interesting.” She ran her fingers through the grit, leaving marks on the surface. “Doesn’t look like its been touched recently, though.”

  I should have heard Mills and Tilly come in, but I was too focused on the food to do more than register their presence in the back of my mind as a non-threat.

  “Our son. Harten.” She ran a hand over the vials, eyes distant. “He was always looking for a way to increase the harvest, find other uses for the algae.” Tapped a finger against one bottle. “He figured out how to stabilize the dyes, as a side project for me. It was a birthday present.”

  “I’m sorry.” Loree tidied the equipment she’d moved. “What happened to him?”

  “Nothing happened to him.” Mills stomped past, hauling one of the algae barrels to the truck with an aged airlift. “Decided he wanted more than the farm, went off planet to look for a job last year. Never heard from him again.”

  The tightness of Tilly’s mouth suggested she had a different take on things, but it wasn’t our place to get involved. With a pang I thought of Cintha’s missing brother. As soon as we got home, I’d have Nixie help me look. She deserved answers, and so did Mills and Tilly.

  “Thank you for the food.” I finished the second bowl quickly. “But I better get moving again, if I’ve got a chance at winning that bet.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Loree said.

  I didn’t have time to figure her answer out. Mills might have been old, and unmodified, but anger spurred him on. His body knew just how to move those bulky vats, and experience could beat out sheer strength most days of the week.

  We worked in silence for hours, the clink and clatter in the depths of the warehouse the only signs that Loree had found something to work on. Good. That, and our supplies from Outlander would be a fair trade, for their help and shelter.

  “Mills, honey, mind moving to the side?”

  Tilly towered above us, riding a massive loader. The faded yellow plates weren’t pretty, and parts looked like they might have been scavenged from a few other things, but the smooth whirr of the machinery told me what Loree had been up to.

  Long padded pincer fingers came down from four hinged arms, clamping gently on a pair of barrel. She swung it to the back of the hauler in seconds, then positioned for another round.

  “Why don’t you boys take a break for a bit,” she called down. “I think we’ve got it from here.”

  Before lunch she had the entire harvest loaded. Mills and I moved the barrels closer to where the loader could more easily reach, but mostly out of sheer male pride. “That thing hasn’t worked properly in years,” he said, as we took a break to watch Tilly neatly arrange the barrels to leave a space in the bed for us to ride in. “Easier this way, that’s for sure.”

  After a quick lunch, we were on the move.

  “I’m going to ride in back with the kids,” Tillie offered.

  “That can’t be a good idea,” I started, then skipped to the side at the sharp pain in my ankle.

  Loree glared at me, then turned to Tilly. “Honestly, if you have some extra blankets, we wouldn’t mind a little quiet time on the ride.” She giggled. “He did get up a little early.”

  Tilly patted her hand. “Newlyweds.” She opened one of the chests lining the wall, and started handing folded bundles to Mills. “That works out well. I’m meeting a friend who runs a shop in town, and she wants to see some samples of what I’ve done.” With a broad wink she pulled Mills out of the room with her. “So best keep them clean, alright?”

  “What was that about?” I whispered to Loree.

  “Don’t assume she can’t do something, just because of her legs,” was the fierce reply.

  “I...” Void. She was right. “I’m sorry, babe. Wasn’t thinking.”

  I folded her in my arms. “Though now she thinks I’m going to ravish you in the bed of a truck.”

  “Only if you’re very neat about it.”

  Ravishing wasn’t on the agenda. As soon as we took off, the gentle rocking and Loree curled on my chest pulled me into the dark.

  “Xander, hon, I think we’re close.”

  I scrambled to sit up, banging my head into one of the barrels that had shifted slightly during the trip.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Not more than an hour or so. I can’t see through these, but the sounds have changed. I think we’re in Bartrowe.”

  The smell had changed, too. The baked scent of hot dust and the slight undertone of sepulcher from the algae had been replaced with the olfactory clamor of thousands of human bodies, their trash. And woven through it all, a ribbon of fresh, cold mountain air.

  “Here we are!” Tilly called out from the window, just in time for the world to darken as we passed into a large building.

  Machinery clanked all around, and I itched to get out, see what was happening.

  In minutes we’d pulled into an unloading berth. Mills and a stranger dove into the current prices for crops while Loree and I hopped down. All around us other haulers, large and small, were being unloaded, their harvest weighed and tested. A giant screen running the length of the room scrolled information.

  “Bids from other planets,” Loree murmured. “Or megacorps. Can’t tell. Looks like they’re bidding based on purity and protein.”

  “Lineage history, too,” Mills added. “Some folks can’t stand certain strains, say they can taste the base no matter what’s been added in the replicator.” He chuckled. “You’re a quick study, girl. Sure I can’t convince you to stay?”

  She fiddled with her braid, but shook her head. “I wish we could. But we’re going to need a job to get that ship hauled out of your way and fixed up.”

  He gave a deep sigh. “If I can’t convince you to come back with us, then the best person to talk to is Dewitt over at Follet’s. He’s got a hand in everything, these days.”

  “You like him any better than Vang?”

  Mills laughed. “Void, they’re both my cousins. Liking doesn’t have anything to do with giving someone a hard time.”

  “Hon, why don’t you take them instead of just waiting around here to see how the sales go? I’m going to be a while at the shop,” Tilly commented. “I’m looking forward to really stretching these things out,” she tapped the leg braces, “ and you can stand talking to family long enough for a quick introduction.”

  Tilly and her bundle of textiles turned to t
he right and with a quick wave she disappeared around the corner. We crossed the street and went down another block.

  The people on the streets looked hard, tired. As if living on Fentria had taken a toll. “Don’t particularly care for Bartrowe,” Mills said. “Never seems to be folks having a good time.”

  As we approached the next corner, the sounds of laughter and shouting bled out from a plexi fronting building with the sign ’Follet’ hanging in front at an awkward angle.

  “Except in places like this, and I’m not sure if that really counts.”

  Men and women clumped in groups inside the darkened interior of the bar. A circle of players crowded a table, studying the cards in their hands. Loree looked up at me with a wink, and I squeezed her hand. Probably no time for a game, but I’d make it up to her.

  Mills ignored them all, just headed straight to the far back corner. A thin man loomed over another sitting at a broad table, slapping it to emphasize his words.

  We stopped, Mills obviously unwilling to interrupt, and I was happy to have a chance to observe.

  “I told you, I need that job!”

  The seated man rocked back in his chair, face a blank mask of unconcern beneath a gleaming, shaved head. “Can’t make a job out of nothing. You know that.”

  “Dewitt, please.” the thin man’s shoulders slumped, his chest a hollow cave. “My kids.”

  “Dammit.” Dewitt tapped his fingers, closed his eyes with a sigh. “Go talk to Stanis. Tell him I said to give you two days.” He opened his eyes. “Don’t screw it up this time.”

  As soon as the man left, Mills pushed forward. Dewitt’s face grew wearier when at our approach..

  “I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Not here about him,” Mills cut him off. “Want to introduce you to these folks. Had a bit of a rough landing yesterday, looking to make some money for repairs. Boy’s strong as an Horvian ox, girl’s a genius with machines. Got anything that might suit?”

  “Well,” the man flicked through his tablet. “There’s always a need for fighters at the ring. Pays good.”

  “No, no fighting,” Loree said quickly. “We’re pacifists.”