Rain Saga

by Barton, Riley

  It had been nearly an hour since she and Mark had trudged back to the Second Wind. Once aboard he had led her down a side passage to one of the ship’s retrofitted locker rooms, and—after making absolutely certain that she was all right—he had left her to clean up in privacy.

  That had been more than thirty minutes ago, and she knew that soon he would begin to wonder what was taking so long.

  She was clean and warm, but she continued to sit, anxiously chewing her bottom lip. Sooner or later she knew Mark would ask why she hadn’t listened to him.

  Finally Luna stood and switched off the water. She pushed the shower’s glass door open and stepped out into the chilly locker room. Shivering, she reached for the towel hanging beside the shower and wrapped its warm, dry fabric around her. She walked over to a long bench near the center of the small room and scrutinized the selection of clothing Mark had laid out for her: One pair of waterproof pants with a matching jacket. A pair of socks and shoes that—as with the other clothes—were several sizes too big for her. One gray tee shirt, and a pair of … boxer shorts?

  “Seriously? You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said, grimacing. She shot a glance back toward the shower where her own soggy underwear was draped limply over the door. They were still too wet for her to wear, and from the looks of things they would be that way for quite a while. Which meant the boxers were really the only option.

  Once she’d dressed, she went and unlocked the door and eased it open.

  “Mark? Are you there?” she asked, stepping out into the hallway.

  “Yeah. I’m right here.” Mark replied, quickly rising to his feet from where he’d been sitting on the other side of the corridor. “Good to see you’re all right. … I was starting to wonder if I’d need to come in there. What took you so long?”

  “Oh … I was just … thinking,” she stammered, wincing at how unconvincing she sounded.

  “Thinking?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Well, since you’re finished ‘thinking’, would you be up for breakfast? I don’t have too much of a variety as far as food is concerned. But something is always better than nothing.” Mark spoke casually, offering no indication that he noticed how distraught she was.

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat, “Um … yeah, that would be great … thanks.”

  “No problem,” he replied, turning toward a flight of steps leading up through one of the ship’s rusted bulkheads. “The kitchen’s this way.”

  Wordlessly she followed him. He was mad at her. He had to be. She just knew it!

  She continued to follow him in silence up the short flight of steps, through The Second Wind’s small, retrofitted mess hall to the equally small kitchen where Mark quickly set about preparing breakfast. Luna stopped short of the kitchen and eased into a seat near one of the mess hall’s rectangular windows where she could keep her eye on Mark without being too obvious.

  “Do you want a drink?” Mark asked.

  Luna jumped. “Huh? Oh, sure … what do you have?” she stammered, trying to act casual.

  “I’ve got water, of course, and some tea. … And I think there may be a few cans of soda in the back of the fridge.”

  “Tea sounds good.”

  “All right. Tea it is.”

  Mark emerged from the kitchen and set a plate of whole-grain pancakes down on the table along with a steaming mug with I Love N.Y. painted on it.

  Mark smiled and pulled up a seat across from her. “Dig in!”

  “Thanks … again,” she muttered.

  She hadn’t noticed how hungry she really was until the first bite. After that, everything was a blur of syrup and silverware.

  “Wow, I guess you were hungry,” Mark said once she’d eaten every last crumb. Then lowering his voice, he asked, “How long has it been since they fed you?”

  Luna stopped in mid chew and cautiously lifted her eyes to meet his. Slowly she swallowed and whispered, “I’m sorry, Mark … really. I ... I never thought things would end up this way. I know I should have listened to you.” Much to her dismay, she began to cry, her tears stinging her battered face. “Please, please don’t be angry with me! It’s not like I was looking for Mr. Edgard’s files—It was an accident! I have no idea how it happened!”

  “Whoa! Hey, don’t cry! It’s okay. I’m not mad at you!” Mark said reaching across the table to place a reassuring hand on her trembling shoulder. “I’m just sorry that this had to happen to you, is all. You hear me? I said it’s okay. It’s okay.”

  “You—you mean you’re not furious with me?” Luna sniffed, hastily wiping her eyes.

  “Furious? No! I’m just disappointed that you didn’t listen to me when you had the chance. I was trying to protect you from all of this—from the truth about Unitech, Edgard … everything. But being angry with you over it won’t change anything now. What’s happened has happened, and nothing can change that. All you can do now is just keep moving forward.” He smiled reassuringly then withdrew his hand and leaned back in his seat.

  Luna sniffed and nervously ran her hands through her damp hair, feeling like an idiot. When her hands reached the back of her skull, she found that her hair was sticky and warm.

  What in the world?

  Perplexed, she looked at her hand and sucked in a short, startled breath. Her fingers were covered in blood!

  Luna gaped at the red liquid coating her fingers, then reached up to touch the back of her head a second time.

  “What the … Luna, you’re bleeding!” Mark exclaimed.

  Doing her best to keep from losing her breakfast, she sat stock-still as nausea and dizziness began to set in.

  “Here, let me take a look at that,” Mark ordered, rising and nearly knocking his chair over.

  Luna carefully did as she was told and twisted around in the chair, wincing as Mark’s hands brushed aside the bloodied mess of hair covering the wound.

  “Sorry,” he replied, examining the wound with extra caution. “How’s that? Better?”

  Luna shrugged. It still hurt, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

  “How bad is it?” She asked, doing her best not to pull away.

  “Pretty bad. But it’s nothing a shot of bio-aid won’t fix. You just sit tight while I grab a med kit. And don’t go passing out on me, okay?”

  “Okay,” she repeated, silently hoping she wouldn’t.

  She had never passed out before, but there was always a first time for everything. Which was why she was so glad when Mark finally returned with the med kit. At least there would be someone to catch her if she lost consciousness.

  “Ah! Subject Luna! It is truly a pleasure to see you again!” a synthesized voice called to her as Mark stepped into the room, startling her.

  “Ed?” she asked, “where are you?”

  Sure it was a ridiculous question, considering that Edward could technically be anywhere he pleased—as long as his program was housed inside the Second Wind’s central computer system. But the events of the last forty-eight hours had left her discombobulated.

  “He’s in the ship’s systems.” Mark answered.

  “Why hasn’t he said anything until now?”

  “I would have loved to have greeted you, Subject Luna.” Ed cut in, “But I’m afraid that in all the excitement, Master Mark forgot to transfer me from his armor. Though I wished to check on your condition, I was incapacitated.”

  Mark set the stainless steel med kit down on the table beside Luna. “Yeah, yeah. Just scan her already, Ed. I want a complete bio-reading on any infections you come across.”

  “Very well, Master Mark. If you insist.”

  “Once—just once—I wish he’d just do as he’s told without talking back to me. Is that too much to ask?” Mark muttered, popping the kit open.

  Luna suppressed the urge to giggle. “Kind of like having a kid, isn’t it?”

  “No, not really,” Mark replied, slipping his hands into a pair of latex gloves. “You can ground a kid. But if you try to puni
sh an AI, he’ll just spam your computer or cut off the power.”

  “Scan complete, Master Mark,” Edward said, “Though I detect no current infection, there is bacteria present in Subject Luna’s bloodstream that could cause her bodily harm if not neutralized.”

  “Will the bio-aid take care of it?”

  “I believe so, Master Mark. But if that is not the case, I am positive that the other anti-bacterial serums in the sick bay will be more than adequate to—shall we say—finish the job.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Ed.”

  Luna watched out of the corner of her eye while Mark carefully filled a small syringe with a dose of bio-aid. She had never much cared for the white, viscous appearance of the all-purpose miracle cure. But she had experienced its amazing regenerative properties too many times to complain about how it looked.

  Luna swallowed, fighting down her nervousness as she felt the needle prick her tender scalp. She flinched and began speaking in order to distract herself from the discomfort. “So, Mark, how did you know I was in the swamp to begin with? I mean ... finding anything out there is a miracle in and of itself. But finding one person specifically? That has to be next to impossible, especially in a storm!”

  “Well, to tell you the truth,” he replied, “I wasn’t the one who found you. Ed was. He picked you up on sensors and sent me out to investigate.”

  “Indeed.” Ed added, “I am quite ashamed to admit it, but it wasn’t until we were within one hundred feet of your location that I became fully aware of your true identity.”

  Mark shrugged. “Yeah, up until then we just assumed you were one of Leon’s scouts or part of some other raiding party.”

  “We were quite relived when we discovered it was you, Subject Luna. Feelings of concern and bewilderment not withstanding.”

  Luna smiled—the numbing agents in the bio-aid finally taking effect. “Well thank you, Ed. It’s so nice to know you care.”

  “I was referring to Master Mark, but I shall accept your thanks and offer my most sincere best wishes toward a speedy recovery from whatever damage you may have acquired.”

  Luna laughed. “Well, I should probably call it a night … or a morning? Whatever it is.” She paused and frowned, deep in thought while searching her tired mind for the right words, “This is kind of awkward but where can I sleep?”

  Mark chuckled and offered her his hand. “Here, come with me.”

  Without giving it a second thought Luna slid her small hand into his. Wordlessly and with much yawning Luna followed alongside Mark as he led her out of the mess hall.

  “Now, just a warning,” Mark said, leading her up another flight of steps to the vessel’s uppermost deck, “I don’t have much on board as far as guest rooms. But I’ll let you use my quarters for now. It’ll be temporary—just to hold you over until I can get something else set up for you. But it’s warm, dry, and quiet, so you should be able to cash in a good forty winks without being disturbed.”

  Luna was too tired to make much sense of what he’d said. But she had understood the words warm, dry, and quiet; which sounded like heaven. “Don’t worry, that’ll be perfect. Thanks.”

  Before she knew it, Mark had led her into a cozy room just below the vessel’s main bridge. The room, like the rest of the ship, was a little on the cluttered side and had obviously served another purpose in the years before the Cathedral disaster—back when the Second Wind had been a ferry rather than a floating fortress.

  She glanced around the room, her weary eyes skimming quickly over its large, curtained windows and mismatched furnishings until she at last found what she was looking for: the bed. It was little more than a glorified cot built into the far wall, but to Luna it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen. She released Mark’s hand and collapsed onto the bed.

  “Good night, Mark,” she called over her shoulder as she struggled to kick off her borrowed shoes.

  “Good night,” he replied with a barely contained grin.

  She waited until she heard the door click shut, quickly slipped out of her rubberized clothes, and slid under the covers.

  She sighed deeply and nestled her face into Mark’s pillow—all her worries momentarily forgotten.

  Chapter 30

  “From this day forward a state of war exists between Unitech and the Swampers responsible for these crimes against humanity. Let it be known that we will not stop until it is again safe for our citizens to walk the streets without fear! We will not stop until every last one of these criminals has been brought to justice! We will not stop until we have peace!”

  Leon switched off the slapped-together holo-projector and leaned back in his rickety chair. He laced his rough fingers below his pointed chin as he let Edgard’s words sink in.

  He’d expected that Edgard would declare war, but Edgard’s response had been far more abrupt than Leon had anticipated. Leon hadn’t planned for him to do it so soon after receiving his holo-message.

  “Ha! I think them boys want to play rough!” he said at last, his dry, barking laugh breaking the silence permeating the dingy room that served as his gang’s temporary headquarters.

  He leaned forward and cast his piercing gaze over the men gathered around him. They were nervous, that much was clear. Edgard’s speech had obviously gotten to them. They were losing their nerve. He had to act quickly, if he wanted to maintain what little control he had.

  “Aw, come on now, boys! Why the long faces? This is exactly what we’ve all been waitin’ for! Don’t you see?”

  Just by looking at them, Leon could tell that they didn’t get it, so he continued, “Look, if all them Techie boys are out on the war-path looking to club every Swamper they find, then there ain’t gonna be so many guys staying back to watch the old homestead.”

  A light of realization dawned, and the men began to murmur among themselves. One man spoke up, an evil grin spreading across his pockmarked face, “So you’re sayin’ while they’re all out in the swamp, we’ll move in and catch ‘em with their pants down?”

  Leon returned the man’s sneer, “Yeah. That’s exactly what I’m sayin’.”

  The man laughed, “Heh, sounds good to me, boss. When we gonna start?”

  “Now,” Leon replied, picking up his breath mask from beside the holo-projector. “Tell the boys out in the ruins to pack their things. We move out in an hour.”

  “And what about the men out in the swamp?”

  “We ain’t got time to wait for them. Tell ‘em to spread out and gather up as many friends as they can. We’ll rendezvous for a strike on Cathedral in one week’s time. Until then, have them stay low and radio in with any intel the can get on Techie movements and troop deployments.”

  “Sure thing, boss.”

  Leon nodded in acknowledgment then pushed the moldy door open and strode out into the camp, tightening his mask as he went. He was pleased to see that his men were already hurrying to carry out his orders. Within the hour they would have faded into the swamp like ghosts. Not even Unitech would be able to find them then.

  He continued through the camp until he came to a large, somewhat rotted tent near the center of the encampment. He pushed aside the flap. Inside, barely illuminated by the dim light slipping through the door, sat his secret weapon. Who would have thought that a man could make a 2,000-pound warhead simply by hardwiring the payloads of a few dozen surface-to-air missiles? Obviously not Unitech. If they had, they would have been more careful with their weapon shipments. After all, there were maniacs out in the swamp that would love to get their hands on that kind of firepower.

  Leon smiled and placed a hand on the crude weapon’s sheet metal casing, admiring his own genius. Unitech had no idea what he had at his disposal. And by the time they did, it would be too late. His bomb would—quite literally—shake the civilized world to its core. And there was nothing anyone could do about it.

  Chapter 31

  “Subject Luna? Hello? Subject Luna, are you awake?”

  Luna groaned and peeled
her face off of the drool-soaked pillow. “Hmmm? What … ?”

  “It is I, Subject Luna. Edward,” the AI replied brightly.

  Luna groaned again and rolled her head over to a less drenched section of bedding and squinted sourly up at the blurry ceiling. “What do you want, Ed? Can’t you see I’m sleeping?”

  “I was aware of your recharging session, yes. In fact, I have been monitoring you for nearly sixteen hours now.”

  “Sixteen hours?” Luna exclaimed, pushing back the tangled web of hair covering her face in an attempt to clear her vision.

  “Yes indeed, Subject Luna. You are a very sound sleeper. Throughout the entirety of my monitoring you did not move even once from your original position.”

  She massaged her stiff neck, “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I’ve been asleep for more than half a day!”

  “I would have, if not for Master Mark’s explicit orders that you were not to be disturbed under any circumstances. And besides, you seemed so peaceful, I did not have the heart to wake you.”

  “Why the sudden change of heart?” Luna asked with a snort, propping herself up on her elbows.

  “Master Mark ordered me to inform you that dinner is ready—if you are ready to eat that is.”

  She promptly pulled back the sheets and stepped clumsily out onto the cool, metal floor.

  “You know what, Ed? Dinner actually sounds pretty good right about now. Tell Mark to keep it warm for me—I’ll be right down.”

  “Of course, Subject Luna. I will let him know immediately.”

  Luna yawned and stretched, her spine popping loudly. She struggled into her pants, leaving the rubber jacket off for now and wearing only the tee shirt. She slid her feet into Mark’s oversized shoes and laced them up as tightly as she could before heading out the door.

  “Something smells good,” she said, inhaling deeply as she entered the galley. “What are you cooking?”

  “Do you really want to know?” Mark asked without looking up from the stove.

  “Sure … What is it?”