by Carysa Locke
Strange. Hadn’t it just been last night that she’d dreamt of him?
“Dimwit? Well, I can’t say I disagree. Payne can be rather dim sometimes. But it’s usually a matter of his stubborn nature, more than wit.”
Arcus huffed out a laugh. “That’s true.”
Payne just glared.
Dante waved a hand at her. “Charge whatever you need to. Annie, is it? Just get Niobe back up in the sky.”
Chapter 4
Working with the three of them loitering nearby proved to be a test of her concentration. First, it was everything she could do to focus on work in the first place. Her mind kept wanting to go back over every word of conversation. Kept wanting to compare each of them to the dream-versions she knew. Kept asking how was this possible?
Knowing they were mere feet away, likely discussing her was almost more than her nerves could take. The third time she dropped her multi-tool, she closed her eyes and counted to ten before reaching to pick it up.
Arcus was already holding it out to her. She looked up and found his blue eyes uncomfortably close. He smiled. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, cheeks burning. And scrap her pale skin hid nothing. He was sure to notice her embarrassment.
“Are your hands bothering you?”
“What?”
Arcus gestured, and she followed his gaze. Right, the bandages.
“Oh. No. I mean, they’re fine. Just an accident this morning. Should be healed up by this afternoon.”
“Do you have a lot of accidents at your job?” He looked worried, and great, now he’d probably join Payne in thinking her incompetent.
She scowled. “No.”
“Good. Sorry, I’ll let you get back to it.”
He disappeared and she tried to concentrate on her work again. It wasn’t easy. Her headache continued as a constant dull ache. She hoped it wouldn’t get any worse.
Then there were the guys. If it wasn’t Arcus offering a helping hand, it was Payne strolling by to — she assumed — check on her progress. Dante had disappeared, much to her relief.
She did her best to ignore the other two. She hadn’t been exaggerating. She really did have to take apart half of the propulsion system, a tedious and time consuming job. She sent Salla a brief message explaining and letting her know not to expect her back anytime soon.
The spaceport did have climate control, but as the day wore on, growing hotter, the temperature slowly crawled up on the docks. Climate control could only do so much, especially in a huge space like this. Pretty soon, sweat coated Annie’s skin and she had her coveralls half off in an attempt to stay cool. Marlon didn’t spring for the kind that maintained body temp, the cheapskate. Her undershirt slicked sweat away and helped at least to some degree.
She was half inside the engine compartment now, parts carefully tagged and laid out all over the deck outside. It had the added benefit of keeping everyone else out of her space. She’d been able to work in peace for a while.
But their voices drifted to her, and she found herself straining to hear them. She wanted to hear them. She wanted to compare these men to the three she dreamt about. Some part of her mind refused to accept this reality.
These could not be the same men. They just couldn’t.
“…scan the entire damn beach. At least not until this scrap heap is up and flying again.” That was Payne of course.
Annie shook her head. Niobe was not a scrap heap.
“Hey, Niobe’s no scrap heap!” Arcus sounded indignant, making Annie grin.
“Whatever. The point is, she’s not flying. For now, we’re stuck here.”
“Be patient, Payne,” Dante said, his voice calm. “I’ve already scanned the beach, in my own way. It’s not conclusive, of course, but I think it’s possible Foster missed his mark.”
“Then we’re fucked.” Payne again. “And we’ll be lucky to ever leave this rock.”
Annie frowned. She must be hearing only half of what they were saying. She didn’t see how the beach had anything to do with the ship or their problems leaving.
“We have time,” Dante said.
“Do we?” Payne asked. “With every amateur out there right now scouring—”
“Shh. Remember we have a guest.” Dante’s voice had taken on a sharp note, and Annie realize he was talking about her. He knew she was listening in.
Well, then maybe keep your conversation more private, she thought, refusing to feel guilty.
“Yeah. Speaking of which, did you notice her shields? Do you think—”
“Shut up, Arcus.”
Silence fell, and Annie realized she had stopped working completely in favor of eavesdropping. Flustered, she got back to it, half expecting one of them to come walking over to check on her. But no one did, and no one spoke again for some time.
A couple of hours later, Annie had finally reached the fuel intake. And Payne was right. It was broken. She couldn’t imagine how it had happened. It looked like — well, it looked like something had exploded, taking out not just the valve, but the entire port it connected to, which fed directly to the propulsion drive.
What the scrap?
She stroked her fingers along what was left of the nanograph tube. “What happened to you, baby?”
The ship didn’t answer of course, but she swore she felt a vibration under her hand.
“Hey Annie.” Arcus’s voice came from just outside her radius of parts. “We got some lunch here. You should come eat.”
She realized she was really hungry. Annie tended to get lost in her work, but her stomach felt painfully empty. It had been hours since the nutritional bar she’d grabbed on her way to the scrapyards that morning.
And maybe food would finally do something about her headache. She rubbed at her forehead with a hand, but the dull pain didn’t abate.
“All right,” she called back, and began the process of extricating herself from inside the ship, and then following the narrow path she’d left in her carefully laid out engine parts.
Arcus had waited for her, and as she reached him, he was eyeing all of the parts with worry darkening his eyes.
“All of this will go back together, right?”
She laughed. “Of course.” She patted his arm in a familiar way. “Trust me.”
He looked at her oddly, but smiled. “I do.”
For just a second, it was like the two of them were somewhere else, anywhere else. She stared into his eyes and felt such a sense of kinship and warmth.
Strands of her hair had come undone from the braid. It happened a lot because her hair was so fine it tended to escape confinement whenever possible. Arcus reached up and brushed some back behind her ear, and she swayed toward him.
A second later she realized what she was doing and jumped back, letting go of his arm as though he’d burned her.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted.
“For what?” He smiled. “I love my ship. Payne and Dante don’t understand, but I sense you do.”
She shared a cautious smile with him, but kept her distance as they walked back to the others.
Her jaw dropped. A veritable feast was laid out before her. Crates were set up as tables, and portable chairs were placed around them. Dante was already sitting in one with a plate in his hands.
Platters of food covered the crates. Cut up bowls of fruit, bread that smelled freshly baked, sliced meats and cheeses, a vegetable plate, and a bowl of condiment pearls, the little round globes filled with yellow mustard and blue tanga sauce. There was even a tray of pastries she recognized as Zina’s work. The baker was the best in the market, her stall selling out every morning. Annie had only ever managed a quick sample bite on her way to the scrapyards, and not many of those. Zina took a dim view of free samples if she knew you weren’t buying.
She shoved her hands into her coverall pockets. Usually on a job, she grabbed something quick from one of the auto-vendors. The food was serviceable, but cheap and plain.
Client
s didn’t normally provide lunch, and certainly nothing like this.
“Drink?” Arcus passed her a glass of something green that sparkled with bubbles and smelled fruity.
“I don’t—”
“It’s just vora-fruit juice.”
She took the glass. “Thank you.”
Her fingers brushed his as he relinquished the glass, and he smiled at her.
Self-conscious, she cleaned her hands and then filled a plate and sat with it balanced on her knees, not looking at any of them.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Payne asked.
Annie stared at her slices of meat and cheese, her small pile of fruit. She hadn’t wanted to take a lot when it was food they’d paid for.
“I—”
Before she could get another word out, Payne was standing up, dropping two slices of bread, more meat and cheese, a handful of vegetables, and a pastry onto her plate. All things she had looked at with longing but decided not to take so she didn’t look greedy. He added some condiment pearls.
“I can feel how hungry you are. Just eat the damn food.”
She stared at him. He could feel how hungry she was? He sat back down, and glared at her until she picked up a piece of cheese and bit into it. Flavor exploded in her mouth. It had been infused with garlic and herbs. In other words, fancy and expensive.
“That’s wonderful,” she said. She ate the whole thing and then set about putting together a sandwich. Only when she’d taken her first bite of the unwieldy result did Payne stop scowling.
The bread was soft and fresh, completely unlike the stale loaves she usually bought. She ate the whole thing, washing it down with the refreshing vora-fruit juice. It had been a long time since she’d had any, and this seemed stronger than what she remembered. Maybe it was a more expensive brand.
She didn’t realize how closely they were all watching her until she took the last bite. She could feel a flush reddening her cheeks, and surreptitiously wiped at her mouth with a napkin. Did she have mustard on her face?
“How long have you been a ship mechanic, Annie?” Dante asked.
“Um…a little over five years.”
Payne lifted an eyebrow. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.” She glared at him, daring him to say something scathing about her age, but he just looked surprised.
“You look younger. Especially for someone living…here.” The way he flicked his fingers toward the city had her back stiffening.
She was torn between outrage at his dismissive attitude, and an odd mix of pride, depression, and shame. She couldn’t argue that Ferrous City wasn’t a harsh place to live. It was, and it did age people prematurely.
Laripim Shipyards were situated on the plateau above, but the people who worked them mostly lived in the city below. Only the corporation, its offices, and employees lived on the plateau. Everyone else lived in Ferrous. And if you couldn’t work the shipyards, you made your living anyway you could.
Annie had done well for herself in the past eight years. She’d come to Ferrous to disappear. It had a huge population, over half a million people. One escaped slave girl could vanish in a place like that and never be found again. And not only had she stayed vanished, but she’d found a home, learned a trade, and she was good at it.
She hated Ferrous, she feared the day she was discovered, and she loved the anonymity it gave her. It was a complex series of emotions.
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Payne said quietly, his dark eyes studying her face.
“Yes, you did,” Arcus said, throwing a quelling look his way.
“I’m sure there are many good things about living here,” Dante added. “You’re within a stone’s throw of the beach. That has to be a bright spot.”
Annie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve never been.” She popped a piece of fruit into her mouth, and sweet flavor burst onto her tongue. Mmm, perfectly ripe berries.
She realized all three of them were staring at her.
“Never been?” Arcus echoed. “How long have you lived here?”
Annie swallowed the fruit. “My whole life.” More or less. As long as she could remember, she’d worked either for Laripim Shipyards, or Marlon in Ferrous City.
“Your whole life, and you’ve never been to a beach that is within five miles?”
Annie shook her head. “You have to apply for a permit to go.”
“You’ve never applied?” Payne asked.
“No point. They don’t grant them to junkers.” And the last thing Annie wanted was to draw attention to herself. Even if junkers got permits all of the time, she’d never apply.
A silence fell. Finally, Dante spoke. “So, you work as a…junker. And a ship’s mechanic. Here in Ferrous City. For your entire life?”
She nodded. It was close enough to the truth, and she certainly wasn’t going to bring up her past before Ferrous City.
“What does a junker do, exactly?”
“Pretty much what you might think. Each day Laripim dumps ship trash into the scrapyards. Recyclers patrol through it every night, melting down scrap so it can be repurposed. But the scrap builds faster than the Recyclers can keep up, so junkers go out looking for valuable bits and pieces we can salvage and sell. Precious metal, nanograph, good pieces of plasteel, things like that.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Arcus asked.
She shrugged. “It can be. Especially with the Recyclers and folyark snakes in the stacks, but sometimes a bit of scrap is all that keeps a person from starving.”
There was a silence, and she had the odd impression that Payne was considering dumping even more food onto her plate. She pulled it closer so he wouldn’t get any ideas. She noticed Arcus had eaten his plate and gone back for seconds — of the sweet pastries. She stared at him for a second. Arcus loved sweets. She’d know that before ever meeting him today.
He noticed her stare and smiled at her. It felt intimate, like they’d known each other forever.
“How many junkers search the scrapyards each day?” Dante asked.
She was grateful for the interruption. “Oh…several hundred. Lots of scrap, multiple scrapyards. A lot of people in Ferrous can’t survive any other way.”
The three men exchanged looks. It felt like there was some hidden conversation happening between them.
“Is that why you started working on ships?” Arcus asked. “To get out of the scrapyards?”
“Partially. But I just love them. There’s something about each ship, almost a personality. When I work on one, I get a feel for it, like I’m making a new friend.” She looked down at her plate. “That probably makes no sense.” It probably sounded dumb.
“No, it makes perfect sense. I often feel that way about Niobe. She definitely has a personality. She’s a sassy lady, but elegant, too.”
Annie gave him a grateful smile. “Yes, she is.”
Payne leaned forward, pinning her with his gaze. “If you’re a mechanic now, why do you still risk being a junker?”
Annie shifted uncomfortably. What was with the interrogation? She didn’t have to explain herself to him. “I have debts that have to be paid,” she said, and left it at that.
“Debts. What kind of debts?”
Of course he wasn’t leaving it alone.
“Payne,” Dante said, a warning in his voice.
Annie picked up her pastry and stood, setting her empty plate aside. “I’d best be getting back to work, or this’ll never get done. Thank you for lunch. It was…” It was amazing. “It was generous.” She took a huge bite from the pastry as she finished speaking, so her mouth would be too full to answer any further questions.
It practically melted on her tongue, the layers so light and perfectly crisp. The filling was some sort of fruit and sugar mixed with nuts. Oh, wow. That was so much better than a tiny sample.
“This is fantastic,” she said, showing them what was left of her pastry as she walked backwards toward the ship. “Thank you, really. You didn’t have to
feed me lunch, but I appreciate it.”
She spun around before any of them responded and kept walking, even when she swore she heard Payne mutter something. She couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like he said “Like we could let you starve. You’re skin and bones as it is.”
Well, that certainly fluffed a girl’s ego. Annie took another huge bite of the pastry, savoring every mouthful. This day had certainly been an odd pattern of ups and downs.
She still wasn’t sure which category the guys fit into. But she realized as she made her way back to Niobe, lunch had been useful for something else, too: her headache was gone.
Chapter 5
The day wore on, but Annie didn’t mind the work. It took her several hours to remove the section of tubing and destroyed fuel intake, but she finally succeeded in cutting out the last bits of unsalvageable garbage. She hummed as she worked, occasionally patting the ship or talking to her. Maybe it made her sound crazy, but Annie didn’t care.
This was always how she worked.
Occasionally, one of the guys would stop by with another glass of vora-fruit juice or a plate with a few snacks on it. She meant to protest that she was fine, but the food or drink was always left quietly beside the ship, and the guys were nowhere nearby by the time she found it.
After a while, it became a quiet rhythm. Her work, one or more of the men stopping by to check in, or drop off food, or refill her glass. It felt familiar. Like something they’d done together a hundred times before.
She realized her humming was because, for the first time she could remember in a long time, she was happy. She thought about that for a second, unsettled.
What did it all mean? Her dreams? Meeting these three men now, on the same day she’d found that crystal? It couldn’t all be some cosmic coincidence. Even if she believed in coincidence, and Annie had experienced far too much of life at this point to believe in things like random chance, it was all too much.