Junkyard Heroes

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Junkyard Heroes Page 17

by Tracy Cooper-Posey


  Normal movement—people running—caught his eye and Haydn turned himself again, to look toward the train platform. There was a stream of people running toward them, all of them in mechanic overalls. Lizette, Cai, Jenny, Peter and Ségolène were among them.

  Haydn laughed again. Noa had called in the team. He looked at Bernice. “You don’t have to round up the Cavers.”

  “Why not?” she asked, doing another slow roll, then righting herself.

  Haydn pointed to the people heading in their direction. “The experts are here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It took Noa’s team fifteen minutes to haul all the Cavers down to the floor. Haydn and Bernice watched, fascinated, as Timothy, who was a tall, big pillar of muscle, acted as an anchor just outside the zero gee area. He took Lizette’s hand and she stepped into the zero area and rose off her feet. Timothy gripped her ankle and her reach extended. Then Dennis pulled himself up along her body. She gripped his ankle in turn.

  Dennis caught the first drifting person, a guard. He pulled them down to within Lizette’s reach. She passed the guard on to Timothy. Timothy held the guard up under one arm until he got his feet under him and moved out of the way.

  Cai climbed up the chain next, extending their reach and hauling the more distant Cavers down to the floor, where the guards rounded them up. Soon, everyone was back on the floor.

  Haydn waved to Noa and she hauled herself down to the generator and restored the crystal. She turned the generator back on and closed the lid, as her feet returned to the floor.

  Bernice and her unit were more than willing to help Haydn, once the gravity generator was brought back on-line and their dignity had been restored. Bernice assigned half the unit to escorting the Cavers to the holding cells on the Bridge. The other eight surrounded her and Haydn.

  “Where do we find the bastard?” she demanded.

  Haydn flicked the edge of her board with his nail. “You might want to write this down. There are a lot of possible places.”

  He dredged up old memories. All the places which his father liked to frequent. The places where his audience was greatest, where he would be listened to with respect. “It’s been years since he dragged me along to his meetings,” Haydn warned them, “only I don’t think he’ll have changed his habits too much.”

  Bernice parceled out the locations, splitting everyone up. Then she looked at Haydn, her face hard. “Okay, so where is he most likely to be?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re holding out on me. You think you know exactly where he’ll be and you have some stupid idea about going and finding him by yourself.”

  Noa came up beside him and Hayden reached out and tucked her against him. It was an automatic movement, completely without thought. He always felt stronger when she was near. “I swear, Bernice—”

  “Nope.” She held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. If you’re not going to tell me where he is, then take me there. I’ll even hold your jacket while you have first go at him, but I’m taking him in.”

  Noa looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Your father?”

  “Okay, then,” Haydn said heavily. “Come on.”

  * * * * *

  No one but engineers knew the full layout of the Field of Mars. Engineers and people with secrets.

  Haydn had known about the burrow since he was very young. Most of his life, he had fought to avoid it. Now, he returned to it with years of fury building inside him.

  The burrow was a crawl space through pipes and conduits, banks of controls and other mysterious equipment. At the end of the crawl space, horizontal pipes and a wall of electrical cabinets, plus more pipes and some strategically placed pieces of painted plasteel created a cramped, low-roofed room. The ten meter square space had become his father’s headquarters. It was here where he could be found most days, lecturing Cavers and converting new recruits.

  “Me, first,” Bernice said as Haydn ducked to crawl through.

  She didn’t crawl. She crept forward on her toes and her elbows, moving fast.

  Haydn hurried after her, with Noa behind him.

  He remembered the burrow always being filled with people, yet it was empty of anyone but his father, today.

  Bernice had her stick out. She looked at Haydn and lifted a brow.

  His father was sitting on one of the low boxes they used as seats, his hands hanging between his knees.

  “No believers today?” Haydn asked dryly. “Did they all go somewhere?”

  Acardi looked up at him. “They left. Without me.” His throat worked.

  Haydn’s breath pushed out of him. “You knew what they were going to do? And you just let them?”

  Acardi blinked up at him. “They didn’t want me with them.”

  Noa gripped Haydn’s wrist. “He’s upset,” she whispered. “They betrayed him and left without him.”

  Bernice shook her head. “He really believes that crap.”

  All the fury, all the hurt, evaporated as Haydn stared down at the shell of a man who had been his father. Even his hair and beard were just dull white now. He looked shrunken. Defeated.

  “He really does believe the crap,” Haydn said tiredly. “That’s what makes him dangerous.”

  Bernice nodded. “There are procedures for handling people like him. Let me start them.”

  “He’s going to be dangerous for as long as he believes,” Haydn said. He turned to Bernice. “I have an idea. It’ll solve this once and for all.”

  Bernice narrowed her eyes. “I’m listening.”

  * * * * *

  Farnell Acardi seemed to be willing to be led anywhere. He didn’t protest when they marched him onto the Bridge. He stood passively as Haydn asked the right people for the right things. Even Noa cooperated, when he asked her to get a pressure suit.

  “The everyman one,” he said. “I’ll meet you at the locker.”

  “The suit…it has no bio systems in it.”

  “We’ll wrap him in a diaper. I don’t care, Noa. He’s going out there and he’s going to see what is really there.”

  Noa didn’t protest. She nodded and left.

  So did everyone else. Perhaps they sensed his determination.

  When Magorian stepped into the workshop to see what the sudden flurry and noise was about, he didn’t try to halt it either, although he could surely see what Haydn intended.

  When everyone had collected up the equipment, Bernice marched Acardi to the tool room, where he stood passively while they pushed his limbs into the suit and sealed it.

  When Haydn put the collar dam over his head, Acardi looked at him, his eyes dull. “They have fouled your mind. They have ruined you.”

  Haydn considered him. “I’d say the same thing about you, except you fucked up your mind all by yourself.” He took the helmet from Noa and dropped it over his head and clicked it into place.

  Then he checked the seal was good. He wanted to kill the man, but that didn’t mean he intended to let him die out there. He hauled his father to his feet. “You’re going to have to run the controls for him,” he told Noa, as she sealed her own helmet.

  She nodded and lifted Acardi’s arm and switched on his magnetic soles, then ran a systems check while Haydn got into his suit. There was no quick way to do it. He went as fast as he could. Finally, they were all ready.

  Between them, they manhandled Acardi out to the airlock. Haydn halted, for Magorian stood there, with his arms crossed.

  “I told Bernice to report back to her desk,” Magorian said. “This is not her responsibility.”

  “It’s all mine,” Haydn told him. “It’s the only way to fix this.”

  Magorian reached for the lock controls. “I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m here.” He opened the door.

  It was more than a squeeze, this time, to fit all three of them in the lock, with their bulky suits. Haydn yanked his father in, wedging him between them. “Ready.”

  The door closed. Air hissed, then quieted.r />
  “Outer door,” Magorian warned, via the intercom.

  The door slid open silently. Beyond were the stars.

  Haydn’s breath caught once more. He didn’t think he would ever get sick of seeing them.

  For the first time, his father roused. “This is an illusion,” he said firmly. “A trick of light and images, for the comfort of the weak-minded.”

  “Noa, step out first. We’re going to have to haul him out there,” Haydn said.

  Noa, small as she was, could bend and step out. She moved onto the hull. From where Haydn was standing, it looked as though she was jutting out from the side of the ship.

  Acardi gasped. “No…” he whispered.

  “Oh, yes,” Haydn assured him. He shoved Acardi out, his hand on his back.

  Noa caught him and turned him, until his boots connected. Even then she held on, for Acardi was writhing.

  “No, no, no….” he breathed, looking around.

  Haydn climbed out next to them and stood up, looking down at his father, for the man had crouched down, his arms over his helmet as if he could hide away from what his own eyes were seeing.

  “Look at them!” Haydn cried and wrenched Acardi’s arms away. “Where is the cave? The floor? Where is the opening that would let a ship of this size through? Where is it?”

  Acardi shook his head. His eyes were closed tight, scrunched shut in denial.

  “Open your eyes!” Haydn shouted.

  Again, the frantic shake.

  Noa touched Haydn’s arm. “Talk to him,” she said quietly.

  Haydn drew in a breath. Then another. He pummeled away the anger, which wanted to spew all over everything, including Noa. Finally, they had come to this. He looked down at his father, seeing a decrepit old man.

  Where did the pity come from? He didn’t know, yet he suspected the woman standing next to him had planted the capacity for pity in him, weeks ago. Now it bloomed. He reached out and gripped his father’s shoulder. “Dad,” he said gently.

  Acardi opened his eyes, his breath rushing out of him.

  “Look around. See what is really here. Please.”

  And his father looked up at the stars. His eyes filled with tears, which slid down his face and into his beard. He was shuddering. “They’re so beautiful,” he whispered, just as Haydn had done, the first time he had seen them.

  Noa let out a heavy sigh and something inside Haydn loosened…and disappeared.

  “So, so beautiful,” Acardi whispered brokenly. He threw his hand up, reaching for them. At the same time, he pushed with his foot and shot past both of them before either of them had time to react and grab him.

  Noa threw herself at Haydn. “Hold me,” she shouted and strode up Haydn’s body in two huge steps.

  He grabbed her boot, as she flung herself up, reaching for Acardi. Her hand slapped into Acardi’s leg, which pushed him into a slow spin. His leg moved out of her reach.

  “No!” she cried.

  Haydn stared at his father as his body rapidly drifted away. He was turning slow circles, his arms and legs motionless.

  Haydn hauled Noa back to the hull, holding her until her boots clicked into place.

  “A tether!” she cried. “We can use a long tether and go after him.”

  Haydn shook his head. “All the lights were red,” he told her. “The controls on his arm. He turned them all off.”

  Noa was breathing rapidly. She stared at him, her eyes swimming.

  Haydn glanced up at the small white figure that had been his father. The suit shimmered in the starlight, as beautiful as any of the stars. “I just took away everything that had meaning in his life. There was nothing left for him.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Noa cried.

  Haydn sighed. “I know.” He touched his helmet to hers. “You taught me that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  After the death of Farnell Acardi, the workshop and the ship itself seemed to slip into a quiet introspection.

  Even Haydn avoided her.

  Ségolène vanished for three days. No one could find her. Cai broke into a rare, volatile temper, shouting at people and breaking equipment, until Noa told him to go home. He reported for work the next day, a silent version of himself. His eyes looked haunted. “I need to work,” he said.

  Noa let him.

  The work went on, only now there was the added task of packing up fragile and delicate equipment for the move to the Capitol.

  On the Forum, it seemed that everyone was talking about what was beyond the ship. There were discussions about Destination, about where it was and how long it would take to get there. For the first time, Noa heard people talk about a life beyond the Endurance, even though none of them alive today would get to see that life.

  In a rare moment when Haydn was in the workshop, she pointed out to him the shift in perceptions. “It wasn’t just us going out there that did it,” she added. “Your father dying out there brought it home to them in a very real way.”

  Haydn met her gaze. “How ironic,” he said softly.

  “I’ve missed you,” Noa breathed.

  Haydn sighed.

  “Ségolène!” The cry rang out.

  Both of them turned to look in the direction of the cry.

  Ségolène was standing in the entrance to the workshop. She looked very different. The scar tissue that had marred the side of her face and her throat was gone.

  “That’s where she has been for three days,” Haydn murmured. “She’s…stunning.”

  “She was always stunning,” Noa said. “Cai could see it.”

  Cai was standing with his lips parted, staring at her, a mallet in his hand, hanging forgotten.

  Lizette bent and took the mallet from his nerveless fingers.

  Ségolène moved toward him. There might as well have been no one else in the big room. They were oblivious to anyone but each other.

  Cai was breathing hard. “Your face…”

  Ségolène reached into one of her pockets and pulled out a curled up sheet of paper, tied with a ribbon. “You sent me this sonnet. I know it was you.”

  For the first time, Cai’s gaze skittered. He looked down at the floor.

  “The woman in this poem…it wasn’t me,” Ségolène said. “I didn’t think it could be me.”

  Cai’s chin jerked up. “That’s not true!”

  She stopped in front of him and touched her flawless face. “Not anymore.”

  “You did this for me?” He reached up and nearly touched her face, too. His hand was trembling.

  “I did it so the woman in the sonnet could be me. I wanted her to be.”

  Cai groaned and kissed her and Ségolène wrapped her arms around him and clung tightly.

  Noa couldn’t help it. She looked at Haydn.

  He was watching her.

  All her new-found confidence evaporated. Noa turned and left, too afraid to stay.

  * * * * *

  He found her, of course. When the door to the suit room opened, she looked up, knowing it would be him.

  Haydn didn’t haul her out. Instead, he stepped in and shut the door, enclosing them in the muffled room, lined with pressure suits hanging like ghostly puppets, their helmets sitting on the shelves above. There were more of them now than the first two they had built.

  He eased himself to the floor next to her and leaned back against the wall with a sigh.

  They sat that way for a while.

  “I have always known you were afraid of nearly everything. I don’t know if you were born that way or if life beat it into you. I could see it that first night, when you shivered in the corner of Cai’s apartment, waiting for me to…I don’t know. Leap out and slaughter all of you, maybe. Then I was rude to Cai and suddenly you were at the foot of the bed, a towering powerhouse, defending her friends.”

  Noa sighed. “That seems like such a long time ago.”

  “You can do anything, dare anyone, face down overwhelming opposition and shout it into submissio
n, so long as you’re not doing it for yourself. If you’re trying to help a friend, nothing can stop you. If you need to reach out for something for yourself, you can’t do it.”

  Noa pressed her lips together. “That doesn’t sound…good.”

  “It’s who you are.” He turned his head to look at her. “I think it’s what I love about you the most.”

  Her heart halted. Then it tripped forward, stumbling and hurting.

  He shuffled around, until his feet were against the wall and he was looking at her directly. In the dim locker, his eyes were very dark. “The apartment, registered under your name only. Why did you do that?”

  “I told you.”

  “Yes. You did it for me. That’s how you could let yourself do it. Only I don’t want to live in an apartment that isn’t mine. Not anymore.”

  Hurt tore through her. “I see.”

  “I want you to ask me to live there.” He picked up her hand. “Ask me, Noa. For once in your life, reach out for what you want, just because you want it.”

  She was trembling. “I…” Her throat closed down. “I can’t.” It came out in a hoarse, bodiless whisper. Her heart, her whole chest, was aching.

  “You know how I feel about you,” he said. “I’ve loved you for months. I think since you came looking for me and patched up my forehead, right there in front of everyone in the market place. I had been invisible to them before you squatted down in front of me. You made people see me.”

  “You were hurt….”

  He stroked the back of her hand. “So it was easy for you. As easy as this is hard, because I don’t hurt anymore. I’m not angry. I’m not bleeding. It’s worse, now. I love you and I’m sitting here saying I love you and that’s scaring the hell out of you, because now there’s nothing left for you to take care of or defend or help. The only way you get to stay with me is if you do it for completely selfish reasons. You have to do it because you want to.”

  Noa gripped his hand. “My whole life, I never got what I wanted. It always went away.”

  Haydn nodded. “Me, too. That’s the thing about life. Things change. It’s risky. You know about risk. You walked outside. That’s one of the biggest risks a person can take and you’re about to spend the rest of your life doing it over and over. You have to work every day to keep the things you want, to preserve them and help them grow. That’s why I’m sitting here right now, saying all this. I’m fighting to keep you, Noa. Meet me halfway.”

 

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