Brave New Girls: Tales of Girls and Gadgets

by Kate Moretti

  We passed shelf after shelf of random metallic parts and all kinds of equipment to fix, meld, and polish. Boxes stacked up high toward one wall were full to bursting with scrap metal. The place was so cluttered, we had to weave our way through as though it were a maze. I couldn’t see the walls at all or what they were made of. A small window, brown with dirt and rust, let in the first rays of morning light, which crisscrossed the floor before us from the two suns that were just rising over the planet’s horizon.

  We headed for a door at the back of the room that read PRIVATE in big white letters that peeled at the corners. The man—I didn’t know his real name, only that he went by the nickname “Scrap”—led me through. When the door shut, total darkness enveloped us. He stopped so fast, I bumped into him.

  “Got hay?” he asked, suddenly dropping the act of a happy seller helping out a confused shopper. His breath was a little stale, and it stung my nose. By “hay,” he meant money for my steed.

  “I do,” I said, my voice a little shaky and barely audible. This time, it was probably obvious I was just a kid.

  “Well, then we have no problem,” he said, his voice cheerful again, like the terrible scary moment of breathing into my face had never happened. He locked the door, brushing my hand in the process and making me jump about a mile. Lights came on and illuminated a narrow space only big enough for a desk and a filing cabinet. For some reason, this shabby-looking office, if I put it kindly, had a pretty nice rug.

  The man showed me where to stand— pressed to the door—and then knelt at the edge of the rug. Flipping it over, he revealed a trapdoor underneath. I realized where this was going, and I didn’t want to go there. I don’t really like dark, narrow spaces where I can be in close proximity—not to mention darkness—with other humans, especially one as weird as Scrap. But he had already opened the door and fetched a flashlight from a drawer.

  I did need a ship.

  Descending the stairs was a terrifying experience. They were steep and dark, and there was no railing to hold on to, so my progress was slow. After I drug my feet for several long seconds, the man clicked his tongue impatiently. He illuminated the path with his feeble flashlight, and I hurried down the last few steps.

  We walked for a while through unlit underground tunnels, and I saw some of the paths separate off into darkness. After a minute, we arrived at another door. Scrap opened it easily, and we went up another set of stairs.

  We came out into a big warehouse full of spaceships and air vehicles. My eyes popped open, as did my mouth, and I barely caught the headwrap before it slipped and revealed my age. I stood rooted to the spot, admiring the selection before me. The space was bathed in light from the glass roof so that every vehicle on display glittered in the morning light. All the vehicles were a little under the weather, scraped here and there, bumped and patched together with different colored metals, but they all appeared functional.

  “This is my fleet. Pick a steed.” Scrap smiled, showing a row of small white teeth set in big gums. “Go on,” he said when I didn’t move right away.

  I picked up my feet and made a round of the warehouse, looking at merchant vehicles, army logistic ships, a few personal carriers that couldn’t go out of the atmosphere, and Space maintenance ships. Pretty much any vehicle I could ask for.

  I did a quick calculation. Maintenance wouldn’t work well because someone might flag me down to ask for a repair. Man, would they be disappointed. Army ships were dangerous because they were numbered and monitored. A merchant vehicle would be safest, but I’d have to pick a different model and coloring this time. Sadly, most of the ships were typical merchant black-and-blue. My face fell, then I saw just the one. It was a newer Carriex, with a big gray back plate, an unpainted piece of metal that would immediately stand out. This could save me for now, before the distinctive feature marked me as an easy target for the next time I had to run. There was no doubt that would come soon enough.

  “That one,” I said, pointing at the merchant ship in the back of the warehouse. I tried to sound mature again, but I suspected he knew something was up. He didn’t seem to care, however, so I relaxed a little.

  “Excellent choice. That’d be three hundred eighty tokens.”

  “What?” I blurted. That was too much for such a crappy ship.

  “I won’t take less.”

  “I won’t give you that much!” I said, prepared to argue, even though I should have been happy he had such a wide selection and was willing to sell me a vehicle, no questions asked. “It’s scraped here and here, dented here, and the windshield has a cloudy spot,” I said, pointing out the imperfections as I circled the vehicle. “I’m not even going to start on the metal panel at the back.”

  Scrap’s face fell. Obviously, he hadn’t expected a girl—or a woman, for all he knew—to be so observant.

  “If I ask you to pop the hood, what might I find?” I asked as an afterthought.

  “Okay, three-fifty,” he said with a nervous twitch to his eye.

  I smiled under the headwrap. “An even three hundred. Take it, or I walk out,” I said, feeling like even that was generous.

  “Deal,” grumbled Scrap, most likely annoyed I’d made him drop the price. He showed me to the paying machine at the end of the warehouse next to a metal desk full of papers and parts.

  “Is the connection secure?” I asked.

  Scrap nodded with a short movement, probably wanting to get rid of me as fast as possible.

  I slid my card in, tapped in a password, and paid. The machine glowed green as the payment succeeded.

  “Thanks for your business,” I said with delight as I climbed into my new vehicle. Powering up, it coughed a little before starting to hum as it should. Scrap threw open the big door at the other end, and I flew out with a honk.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I piloted my new ship toward the place where I’d parked the old one. The parkway was crawling with people now, so I had to force myself into an empty spot an elderly shopper had just vacated. Going past the spot where I left my old ship, I noticed someone had already claimed it. I couldn’t help but smile, but I also felt sorry for the person who would get caught with it.

  I connected to the Grid to see how the search for me had progressed. I still had to connect the ship to all my technology, but the basic search was instantly available. A few keystrokes later, I took a moment to glimpse at the secret files by hijacking a foreign signal. I was causing quite a lot of collateral damage, but I had to make sure I was safe so I could provide help to others. I felt bad, but not so bad that I’d stop it and sacrifice myself.

  The military knew I’d left the safety of the Space and was grounded, so the search was tenfold now on any walkable surface of Avani. I had to hurry if I wanted to leave before they closed in on me. I disconnected right after I’d bounced the signal among a few other nearby computers, hoping they wouldn’t hunt down the innocent users. Locking the ship securely, I mixed myself in with the crowd, headwrap still in place.

  Gathering supplies took only a few minutes. I knew exactly where I needed to go. Making sure they were a completely different color from my current attire, I selected new pants, a new tee, and a new scarf to use as a headwrap. Next, I picked up as many dry food packets as I could carry, some beef jerky, and energy drink tablets. I had to buy water skins, as well. Otherwise, the food packets would be useless. I treated myself to a nice breakfast of deep-fried fish and potato wedges at a nearby stall. Swallowing the food in big bites, I barely chewed as I weaved my way through the masses.

  Next up was my new appearance. I bought my own supplies to save time. Scissors and a coloring packet joined the already-heavy assembly of supplies I had to carry around, so I decided to call it a day and leave for Space. Fighting the throng of people at the market slowed me down considerably, and the heat from the suns was already making me sweat
buckets before noon.

  I’d have to get my new ID someplace else. I’d already spent too much time in Qart. I didn’t know anyone who could get me new papers here. I might have to fly to Naiwa and find my old contact. She moved her office all the time, so that’d be even more lost time and money. Mad at myself all over again, I ran for the ship.

  When I finally made it to the parking lot, the sight of police greeted me. They were checking out vehicles, comparing them to the tablets they held in their hands. I assumed they were looking for me—my mother’s name on a transaction must have registered, despite the “secure” business Scrap offered. I should have asked for a receipt. If Scrap put “Carriex 3005” on it, I’d be made. I sure hoped he was smarter than that. There were a few other ships like mine on the lot, but that wouldn’t help much.

  The police were still a few vehicles away, so I decided to disguise myself and risk approaching my new ship. Hiding between the other ships, I stripped to my underwear and put on my new clothes, changing the headwrap as well. I left my old clothes on the ground for someone else to find and dared to check the lot again. The police were right by my newly acquired transporter, and one officer’s tablet pinged loudly. I cursed under my breath.

  “This one is not registered,” said the officer.

  “You think it’s hers?” asked another, approaching my ship.

  “Could be, but it’s not the one described here.”

  “It could be a mistake. It’s a small deviation. These models aren’t so different. What’s this one, 3008?”

  “3005.”

  “And what’s the original?”

  “3000. But this plate is something we’d notice on the surveillance,” said the first officer, knocking on the back metal plate with a soft clang.

  “Fine. Let’s move on.”

  I exhaled deeply and fixed my bag before I moved out of hiding. Approaching my ship slowly and carefully, I tried to keep my eyes on the officers moving around—not an easy task when there were so many, each looking through the rows of parked vehicles. For the first time in a very long time, I was glad I was short. I darted left and right between the ships and finally ended by my own. I was almost safely inside, when—

  “There she is!” came a shout from too nearby. I threw myself the rest of the way in and slammed the closing button with my foot. They’d seen the ship. That was money well spent.

  I jumped up, powered up the vehicle, and, without pausing to connect my computers, shot out of the parking lot. I didn’t make it far before the police caught up, and the wild chase through the skies of Qart began. I tried to go to Space as soon as I could, but the ship was slow, and air traffic was thick.

  Whizzing between flyers and other ships, I almost collided a couple times and surely caused a few accidents, but I just couldn’t care. I was being chased, and with a crappy ship like mine, I doubted I’d get far.

  An opening finally showed itself ahead, and I sped past law-obeying citizens to exit the official flyway and shoot for the stars. The ship shuddered and shook. The noises it made scared me, but it kept going. Checking the monitors, I saw the police were still on my tail. I knew it’d be hard to lose them; they had better ships and a clear target. Still, that didn’t deter me from trying to get away. I took a few sudden turns that my smaller transporter managed more easily than the big police ships could, but it barely slowed them down. The pressure in the cabin began to mount. I’d forgotten to stabilize it. It really wouldn’t help if I passed out. I tried to calm down as I checked the ship’s status.

  Evening out the pressure and turning off everything else I didn’t need helped me get a burst on the speed but only for a moment. Breaching the atmosphere shook the ship hard, and I turned the motors off to switch to Space navigation. The flying was suddenly less strained, and the flying can stabilized almost completely, making me less afraid it would fall apart any moment. I really had to make sure I didn’t fry another one.

  Glimpsing at the monitors, I saw a few ships fall away. Some of them must have been regular police flyers not equipped for outer Space. Only two ships were on my tail now—two too many. Despite that, I had a sufficient head start to get my gear out. I unpacked my computers and plugged everything in, then I put my cards into their slots and connected to the Grid.

  Now it was my turn to show them what I was really capable of.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Thanks to the secure connection I’d created anew, I was able to slip into the police network undetected. First, I cleaned out everything they knew about me from recent sightings and the chase. I didn’t leave them a crumb, knowing even the smallest piece of information could lead them to me.

  Next, I closed down all communicating channels. At first, I’d wanted to cut off only the ships on my tail, but they could always send more after me, so I shut down the whole thing. Better safe than sorry.

  Last, I had to disable the machinery of the pursuing ships. I found them easily, since their signals were as obvious and as tempting as light in the fog for lost sailors. Luckily for them, we were in Space. Otherwise, they might plummet into the sea or crash into a mountain. Me, I have a kind heart, so I let them drift around in Space, unable to steer in their unpowered dark ship. You could say I’m a bit of a philanthropist.

  I slowed the ship down a little to conserve energy. It was solar powered, and it was a huge stroke of luck that its power generator was full. Scrap’s glass roof was a great idea. I still had enough power to get me to another star entirely, but I hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

  The pursuit was over for the moment, so I took the time to change my looks and contact my people. I would have to let everyone know to go into hiding, but first things first. Setting my scissors and dye pack on the floor, I set to work.

  Taking a small compact mirror out of the hygiene pack, I tried my best to get a good look at what I was doing. My dark face and wide green eyes stared back at me, reminding me I would draw attention, no matter what I did to my hair.

  My parents were among the first to get together after the diversity-preservation laws were lifted, twenty or so years ago. My mother’s of Indian descent; my father is Asian. That makes my skin dark, my eyes slanted, and my hair thick and as black as the night.

  It wasn’t until I came to Vidya Intergalactic Science Institute for Girls that I found my people. The girls there were both pure-blooded and mixed, and nobody cared about either way. We were the smartest rainbow in the universe, and that was all that mattered. Our brains were too busy to care about looks.

  I blinked then sighed. Let’s do this. I pulled and piled my hair on top of my head. Then steeling myself with a deep breath, I took up the scissors and cut. I did it quickly before I could change my mind. I knew I’d regret it later, but desperate times…

  After the fat chunk of hair fell into my lap, I exhaled the air I didn’t know I was holding. It looked like a fluffy cat had fallen asleep in my lap. I shook out what was left of my hair and let it fall around my ears. It didn’t even reach my shoulders and had more volume than it had before. It was more horizontal than vertical.

  I cleaned up the hair scraps and threw them in the waste processor. I opened the dye packet and read the instructions carefully four times before I set to work. In the storage area, I sacrificed some water from the pouches to wet my hair, then I put the cap with the dye on my head, covering my hair completely. The reaction was immediate. Thick foam started to spread under the cap. It was scary to watch in the small mirror as my head literally inflated as the cap grew taut. After a few minutes, my scalp felt warm but pleasantly so. In about five minutes, it stopped inflating, which meant the dye was active. I just had to sit like this for a while and let it do its work.

  While I was waiting, I went back to my computers. I logged into the army database, but to my dismay, all the information on me was already updated. The police had manag
ed to get their messages across to the army somehow, despite my meddling. Nevertheless, I decided to delete everything they had on me while also jamming their communications. It was probably fruitless, and I was most likely just wasting money, but I had to try. Their updated technology was something I hadn’t completely mastered yet, but with one more chase, I’d be on it.

  Increasing the speed of the ship, I navigated toward the southwest. The police chase was over, but any one of the personal armies could easily catch me up. I had to get to my destination before them and go into hiding. I wondered who had hired them and if my parents were involved. They had been in the past, hiring all kinds of people from police, army, individual bounty hunters, to even androids. I had no doubt they would want to wash my brain and turn me back into what I used to be, back when I’d thought they were good people. They were the same as the rest of them—manipulative and not beyond exploiting their own children. If I could, I’d save my siblings from them as well.

  I decided to fly for Naiwa, as I’d planned before. It was on the other side of the planet I’d just left, and it would take hours to reach.

  I had to clean and close all the bank accounts I’d used for stealing money—or redistributing it to those who could make better use of it. After my escape, I’d discovered there were already rebel groups in place that did what I planned to do—namely, dig up anything that would prove the big companies played dirty and steal their information, data, and anything of value, along with whatever was in their accounts. That might stop their work for a while and provide the rebels with better equipment to fight the bad guys.

  Rebel groups were still few and far between. What they were attempting was like using a spoon to deplete the sea, but slowly, some differences had become visible here and there. I knew my knowledge of computers could contribute greatly, and I’d found myself working for them full time not long after I ran away. I gave them everything I knew about happenings in school—about my programs, about Valencia’s medicine, and about all the work other girls were doing—Iffie with her own software, our shared projects, and how Sati and Miyu were involved in some weaponry projects, how Pratima was working on cloning and Melanie on artificial intelligence. Being from Avani’s capital, Newton, I was directed to a woman who ran the operations there—the same woman I wanted to get my new papers from.