7.1
“What is this place?”
Yvonne hovers over the control panel until I lean away. It doesn’t dissuade her.
“Falla, it’s considerably out of the way—”
“Kinda an odd name for a planet.”
“Uh huh. Will you breathe somewhere else?”
Giving me the side-eye, her lips twitch upward, but leans away, folding her arms. She practically bear-hugged me when we were crossing the makeshift bridge on Amerov. But because I’ll help in death-defying situations doesn’t mean I want her getting chummy. She’s gotten everything she wants out of the situation. She can bug right off.
I check on Anya. It’s a small ship, so it’s easy to keep an eye on her—she’s in sight unless I close the door to my bunk room, and I’m folded up in the captain’s seat. The girl’s crashed in the comfy chair in the back of the ship, mouth open, drooling a little.
For once, I’m getting along fine with a kid. And by getting along, I mean I don’t speak to her often and she only stares in a curious way, not a staring at the freak way. She talks to Yvonne and naps and occasionally tries to coax Bat to the chairs with her awkward training prosthetic, which goes about as well as expected. Poor badger’s hiding in my bunk room, under the covers, crowded by all the humans and restless from too long without planetfall. He’s about to get some free space to run.
All in all, the littlest princess is nice. An improvement over her sister.
“Is this a place Captain might check?” Yvonne asks, still on the approaching planet shimmering a dull golden outside the viewport.
“Doubt it. It’s an agricultural planet and that’s about it. Low population. Old tech. He might check here, but there are better places he might search first. And he won’t have many eyes here, especially not in the places we’ll go.”
“You been here before?”
“A few times. There’s someone here who deals in, uh…lightly used ship parts.”
Which is part of the plan. Not that she’s aware of my scheming.
“Blackmarket parts,” she says, deadpan.
“Judge all you want, you’re a bigger criminal than I am these days.”
She grins, which throws me off. “We sure that’s possible?”
“Hey, I want you to know if we get caught, I’m claiming you held me at gunpoint and I never wanted to break into an Amerov facility.”
“You think Captain’ll believe that?”
“Nope, but it’s worth a shot.”
She snorts, eyes sliding to her sister. “You think there are any doctors here who would be safe to take her to? I know those charts of hers say she’s all good, but I’d feel better if someone looked her over.”
As far as those charts tell us, her injuries are nice and fixed. She was going through physical therapy and fittings for more advanced prosthetics, but as far as the wounds themselves, they were healed weeks before we arrived.
Still, can’t fault Yvonne for fretting.
I’m doing my own fretting over Audra, though I know logically she’s fine.
“We’ll check it out once we get there. I want to stop at one of the bigger stations first, then we can head out to a rural area. Someone will be able to check her out.”
Most people, like me, aren’t going to know the princesses on sight. Even if they got suspicious, no one would expect the two to be on this farming space rock.
“Why are we stopping at a bigger station?”
“When I say bigger, I still mean a thousand or so permanent residents. And I need parts for my ship.”
It’s true enough it doesn’t feel like a lie—I could use some new bolts and wiring for the wings in this piece of rusty trash, and the paneling could use some patching—but I force myself to keep a smirk in check. I’ve got something else up my sleeve.
Atmosphere crackles around the hull. I glance at the control panel giving me a feed from the back of the ship. Zane and Laila’s craft are following close. Their vessel is old enough I half expect something to fly off the paneling the same as I expect it from mine. I haven’t had any emergencies about entering atmospheres. Yet.
Bat is bouncing before the airlock as we settle in the fields on the outskirts of the station. His metal toenails click little scratches into the rim around the airlock already scarred from the years he’s done this. We’ve been here half a dozen times, and he devours the pizza they serve at this particular station. It’s an out-of-the-way place where he wanders the streets without hiding in my backpack.
Technically, he’s more an oddity here than elsewhere, but Falla’s residents aren’t nosey enough to butt into our business, let alone strip us for parts.
He also likes the ice cream shop.
“Alright, calm down,” I say, but it’s useless, as the minute the airlock cycles open he shoots out the crack in a gray blur.
Well, he’s been practically clinging to my head the last few days since we took off from Amerov—at least he’s feeling safer. I don’t mind the attention. It’s nice to pick him up and know he’s safe. I made it home. But I’ve more scrapes than usual simply from his metal claws as he refuses to unlatch from me.
I watch his shape bounce through the tall grasses, cutting a swirling path through the golden scenery as he waits for the siblings to land.
“Alright, moneybags,” I say, grabbing my jacket but only my gun and knife—not much threat here. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not buying you parts for your ship,” Yvonne says, busy putting lotion on Anya’s face. The littlest princess gives me a long-suffering stare as if I’ll help her from her sister’s smothering.
Technically, you owe me a solid million. But such is a topic for later.
“Gratitude for ya. I didn’t mean that. Come with me. Bring her.”
They both give me a look. Anya’s been comfortable in my ship, if quiet, but her eyes get big, downright terrified at the prospect of wandering a town among other people.
“Everyone here’s half-decent, let’s go.”
Anya shakes her head.
Yvonne starts in the most warning tone I’ve heard this week. “Aaron…”
Her using my name is odd as hell.
“Why don’t you want to go?” I ask Anya, though I know the answer and Yvonne tries to give me the same look I’ve seen parents shoot unruly children who’ve asked something rude.
Anya shrugs.
“Is it because people are going to stare?”
Yvonne’s eyes should shrivel me on the spot, but Anya gives me a long, silent look. And just the tiniest nod.
“Well, look at it this way: you two will be walking right next to me, and who’s going to stare at a nice little squirt like you when I look like someone turned my face inside-out.”
Yvonne’s expression spasms, shocked or trying not to laugh, I can’t tell.
But I get what I’m looking for. The slightest twitch upward from Anya’s mouth. “You don’t look like that.”
Nice kid. I shrug. “Close enough. Come on. I promise you’re going to like what we’re doing.”
Yvonne squints at me. I give her a serenely mocking smile and slide out the airlock.
“Hurry up!” I yell.
Zane is wading the grasses, a big grin plastered on his face. The siblings eventually transferred to their own vessel, but he’s been clingier than usual and calls me on the comm at all hours of the day.
I’m going to give them a full 24 more hours to be this over the top, then I’m going to lay him flat on his ass next time he tries to fling an arm over my shoulder.
Bat launches himself straight out of the grass, bones and metal limbs crashing into my chest bone. I fumble trying to hold onto him until he positions himself on my shoulder, snickering to himself. He kneads my hair with his front teeth.
“Ow! Did you get into the sugary cereal this morning?”
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, stop chewing me.”
Zane’s grin widens. Bat still doesn’t let the humans near him, but he seems easier on Zane since I returned from Amerov. I’m sure the little critter didn’t appreciate being restrained when we were on Taloon, but we both know the human saved him from a terrible fate. He’s not been having outright conversations with the siblings, but he’s paying attention when they talk to him. He makes eye-contact rather than glares.
“This place is neat,” Zane says. “Any good restaurants?”
“I’m sure Bat will be thrilled to show you.”
Bat flaps his ears and bounces on my shoulder.
Yvonne lets out the gangplank so she can stomp down, Anya held awkwardly in her arms, and gives me a familiar scowl.
“You gonna tell me what this is about?” she asks, tone letting me know she’s expecting an explanation this second.
“Nope,” I say, and turn for the station while the ship’s airlock closes.
It’s been long enough my injuries from the skirmish on Taloon and crash on the God-forsaken piece rock that is Amerov are mostly healed. Gauze still pads my knuckles for the sake of ensuring I don’t go around knocking the tender skin on anything. My knee twinges here and there when I walk, but not enough it’s bothersome, and the shot miraculously didn’t do permanent damage to the metal bones in my leg.
Small miracles.
Now, if I can only keep my body from various breaks and bleeds for a while, it’ll be great.
Bat launches himself off my shoulder—his injuries are long healed by now—and into the grasses, cutting a haphazard path. As far as the eye can see, grasses rise from fertile soil, tall as my hip and a gentle golden. It isn’t any food I recognize, and ships land in the fields around this particular station often without being chased out. More of the towns scattered father into the planet actually produce the abundance of food this place is known for.
It has shockingly few inhabitants based on size and production crops for a quarter of the galaxy. Most of it’s automated. This station is fairly empty of equipment, but we’ll see some when we eventually find a smaller town to crash at for a while.
The station itself is a single paved road cutting through and out the other end into the ever-stretching grasses. Most of the vehicles will be hovercraft, but it’s good not to hover over the fields and ruin the crops. Roads are a worthy-enough investment. Buildings never rise past two or three stories, and are mostly wood, sometimes metal or stone. A fueling station and parts depot makes up nearly a third of the space, an eatery another third. We can fuel up in a different town—this place is too expensive on principle, even if Yvonne pays me her due.
My eyes don’t mind this place. They give me nice even hues of warm earth baked in the sun. When we’re alone, I’ll probably take off my jacket. Weather’s nice.
“Aaron,” Yvonne has that distinct annoyance to her voice again. “What are we doing?”
“Learning patience, evidently.”
She makes a mimicking noise, and I chance a glance at the two. Anya seem peaceful enough, running her hand through the rustling grasses over her sister’s shoulder. I doubt she feels much through the metal, but we’ll soon have that changed.
Partially for the sake of Anya, partially because it isn’t needed, I keep my hood down. I get a few odd looks, but people here mind their own business, and some of them even recognize me enough to not be interested.
Bat trots alongside me, casting glances at Zane and Lalia as if he’s worried they won’t keep up. I hear them chatting.
“Wanna take them to get food?” I ask. “We’ll join you in a bit.”
“I want pizza,” Anya mutters.
“We’ll get there.”
Both princesses give me sidelong looks, but the siblings exchange suspicious glances and follow Bat off toward the massive eatery. They don’t know what I have planned—Bat does—but I guess they know by now I’m not going to tell until I want to.
“Come on,” I say, and Yvonne follows me across the street to what takes up most of the town outside the cluster of restaurants. She’s muttering to herself, and I ignore it, trying not to smirk.
The massive parts shop attached to the fueling station isn’t much to look at from the outside. A series of metal-paneled walls. The door squeaks when I put my shoulder to it and shove my way into the air-conditioned building.
“Well,” says a voice from behind the counter. “Look who’s not dead.”