by Kelly Jensen
“Gael,” Bram said.
He turned at his name, expression not at all chagrined. Then he took Aavi’s hand and tugged her back to the rover. As soon as the canopy sealed, he yanked the mask off and turned a shy smile toward Bram.
“That was amazing. It’s so big! So huge. And the heat! My skin went all prickly. It was like standing in front of a radiator, but bigger.” He gave a cracked laugh. “I sound like such an idiot, but you can’t imagine. You just can’t.”
Gael glanced at Aavi, grinned, and turned back. His cheeks were a dusky rose—whether from the heat or excitement, Bram couldn’t tell. He did know that he’d never seen anyone quite this happy, and incandescent with it. Beautifully happy. His gray eyes wide, his full lips curved. Pleasure evident in every line, every pore.
Gael touched Bram’s arm, the pressure of his fingers light, almost nonexistent. “Thank you for this. It’s a gift, and I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.”
Holy hands, what was he to do with that? All he’d done was show them a sunrise. Who made such a big deal over something so mundane? But nothing about this situation was average or expected—and Bram was starting to think he should have been more prepared for that. For the unexpected.
Gael was still giving him a worshipful look.
Not sure what to say, Bram gave a stiff nod before turning his eyes frontward and powering up the rover.
The charge from the sun lingered beneath Gael’s skin for about half an hour before the shade of the new crevasse began to press in, making him feel heavy and tired. His body clock was seriously out of whack, but the impending fatigue seemed to run deeper than that. The lower they went, the sleepier he felt, despite his nap. He tried to amuse himself by studying the view. Rock, rock, and more rock. The color did vary—slightly. From one shade darker than his skin to a couple shades lighter. As the polarized shielding on the rover windows faded, he could see the marks left behind by the machinery used to widen this particular ledge.
He glanced across Bram toward the driver’s-side window and the other side of the crevasse. It was too far away to make out much detail, and a sort of mist hung somewhere between. The atmosphere he’d read about, or the beginnings of a cloud layer. The reason people could live in the crevasses without rebreathers.
Before shifting his attention back to his side of the rover, Gael took a moment to study Bram. He’d been snatching surreptitious looks now and again, though he’d formed the impression that he could let his gaze linger undetected. Bram seemed completely focused on the nav controls and the road in front of them.
It was weird being this close to Bram. Different to studying his image in a holo. Gael had heard about holo dramas so immersive, you actually believed you could touch things. Taste food, feel a virtual wind on your face. Being in the rover with Bram was like that. It was both real and unreal. Bram was right next to him, an arm’s length away. Gael had touched him. Twice. He could still remember Bram’s gentle fingers at his ears and behind his head as he’d checked the fit of the mask. The warmth of his arm beneath the sleeve of his sturdy work shirt.
He could also sense Bram’s disappointment, and the weight of it only added to his fatigue.
Gael turned back to his own window and let the passing scenery render his thoughts as bland as the thickening clouds. The atmospheric layer obscured the view from every window for about ten minutes before thinning into streamers and finally dispersing. Beneath, the sunlight was diffuse, more a glow, but still brighter than anything Gael had previously experienced.
About ten minutes after that, he spied the wider ledges of a farm. From a distance they didn’t look very green. Probably something to do with the atmosphere, though he did wonder how Bram had managed to send pictures of his farm without giving away the fact Alkirak was barely habitable.
I saw what I wanted to see.
Story of his life.
Gael glanced over his shoulder. Aavi was slumped against her seat restraint, eyes closed. There was no window behind her, only a side view. He hadn’t seen anything but rocks all the way down, though.
“Is yours the only farm in this crevasse?” Gael asked.
“Yep.” Was that a note of pride, or a challenge?
“Do you own, what did you call it? Henderson?”
“No. The company owns the crevasse. I lease my portion of it.”
“Lease?”
“I have the rights to farm here. Do some mining.”
“Oh, so the farm isn’t actually yours, then?” The small pang of disappointment wasn’t logical, and Gael did his best to shrug it off. Not his business. Not really.
“It is. If I wanted to, I could pick it all up and take it with me. Kind of impractical, though,” Bram said with a smirk.
“No kidding.”
“The farm is mine for as long as I hold the lease. I can sell it or will it. That’s how property works on most colonies.”
“Huh.” Showed how much he knew about how the galaxy worked.
Gael couldn’t see any buildings yet, but there were rows of something. A long, low bush, sort of green, covered most of the terrace. There was a cluster of higher stalks at the far end—a different crop—and another terrace below the main one, just the lip of which was visible.
“So, um, where do you live?”
Bram nodded toward the lower terrace. “Down there.”
The ledge-road thing they were on only led to the upper terrace. Would it be stupid to ask how they planned to get down there?
Bram drove the rover right onto the upper terrace and circled the inside, close to the rock. Only then did Gael see the opening halfway along—a gap wide enough for two vehicles to pass side by side. Bram pulled into the darkness, the rover’s headlamps throwing back the shadows until overhead lighting flicked on. They were in a large, square cavern. Bram parked the rover and got out.
Gael climbed out of his side and looked around, waiting for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark. His disappointment seemed to increase along with his perception of the space: a large, mostly dark and unfurnished cave.
“This is where you live?” he asked.
“This is the garage.” Bram gestured toward the other half of the cavern. “I keep most of the mobile equipment up here.
Shapes loomed in the rear of the cavern: machinery Gael supposed was farm equipment. He’d watched a few HVs on farming and hoped if he studied them for a while, he might figure out which was which. The outline of the largest unit suggested it might be an automated harvester.
Aavi was by the edge of the massive doorway, gazing out over the fields. Bram followed her there and Gael listened, without moving, to their quiet conversation. It should be him asking about the crops and sun and the wind turbines churning silently away along the edges of the terrace. He’d studied for this.
He couldn’t help thinking he’d be better off practicing his smile, though. He could guess what sort of work Maia would have for him on a colony populated mostly by lonely miners and farmers.
The next hour passed in something of a blur. Bram lived in a system of caves carved into the side of the crevasse with long looping ramps and tunnels connecting the upper and lower levels. Rooms branched off at odd intervals, their purpose only clear once you were fully inside. Storage next to a room with a desk and terminal; an empty cave next to what looked like an industrial kitchen.
“Packing facility,” Bram provided. Most of the room descriptions were equally spare on detail. A workshop. A closed hatch. Another empty space. “Storage.” Rooms lined with shelves carved right into the rock, each one filled with stacked crates. “More storage.”
The living quarters were confined to the lower terrace. While the work spaces seemed to tunnel into the rock, the living spaces were forward, arrayed along the outer edge of the cliff face, lit by vents and skylights and a single airlock-type doorway to the outside. Except for the exposed stone walls, they were less cave-like. Shelves held a small array of knickknacks instead of tools, and sometimes p
otted plants. Still, each of the rooms had a defined purpose—a spacious, well-appointed kitchen, a walk-in pantry and cold room, the latter equipped with a rover-sized refrigerator. “It’s sometimes a month or two between trips to town.” There was a small room with a sofa, bookshelves, and HV console, and at the end of a weirdly curved hallway, Bram gestured toward a narrow arch and stepped aside.
“This is your room.”
Gael was used to Bram’s brief explanations by now. He wouldn’t hear how or why he had his own room, it was just a fact—and in this particular case, one that was as welcome as it was curious. Bram made me a room. The bed was a long, low shelf topped with a thick, boxy mattress. It was huge. Gael had never seen such a large bed. Or such a wonderful quilt. It seemed to float over the top, inviting him to wrap himself up in softness and drift away.
Aavi ran to the bed and flung herself on top of it. “This is amazing!” She rolled over twice before reaching the edge. The quilt barely flattened beneath her. “And so soft. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
That answered the question of where Aavi would be sleeping, then.
Without daring to look at Bram, Gael told her, “You can have the side near the wall.”
“Done.” Aavi immediately rolled to her side and flopped onto her back.
Would Bram think it odd that he and Aavi planned to share the bed?
When he peeked over, Bram was smiling. “I had fourteen brothers and sisters. Didn’t get a bed to myself until I left home.” He met Gael’s gaze. “If you’re okay to take care of yourselves for a bit, I’ve got some chores to take care of.”
“I’ll probably take a nap.” Did that sound terrible? He was supposed to help Bram out on the farm. “Ah, unless there’s something you need me to do.”
“No.” Bram’s eyebrows pulled down. He scratched the back of his head. “I guess we’ll talk later.”
He disappeared, and Gael turned back to survey the room. A space that had been intended just for him. He’d never had anything like that before—the bunk room he’d mostly done without aboard the Lennox aside. He’d always had to share with Loic, which hadn’t been a hardship. Watching Aavi wriggle her way under the quilt, Gael fought rising melancholy. Would there come a point when it was all too much? When life threw him for such a spin, he lost his grip?
He approached the bed cautiously and reached out to touch the quilt. It was as soft as advertised. So damn soft. Opposite the bed, a small metal desk hugged the wall, lit by another vent. The shelf above the desk was empty. The closet—a nook without a door—also stood vacant.
The bathroom was a surprise. A deeper nook angled away from the opening to give a proper sense of privacy with enough space for a toilet, sink, and shower. The fixtures were simple in an elegant way. Practical. And all his. Well, his and Aavi’s.
He had a bedroom and a bathroom and a closet. A desk too. And there was something on a shelf beside the bed. A cube. Of rock. Frowning, Gael dropped his duffel on the floor and picked up the cube. It rattled in his hands, parts of it shifting slightly. He resettled one and a piece at the top slid off. In trying to catch it, Gael adjusted his grip and another piece fell away from the bottom. Then the whole thing was falling apart in his hands, spilling into bent and unbent shapes, each pointing a different way.
He’d broken it, whatever it was.
Gael dumped all the pieces onto the shelf and knelt to grab the one on the floor. Rustling on the bed heralded Aavi’s approach. Her head popped over the edge. “We should figure out our story.”
Getting to his feet, Gael tossed the last piece onto the shelf. “We shouldn’t even have to have a story. What in the name of the sun are you doing here?”
“I told you. I followed you. I had nowhere else to go.”
He sat beside her on the bed and nodded toward the Band at her wrist. “Who gave you that?”
She covered it with a small hand. “Maybe I stole it.”
“You were wearing it in the alley that day. I told you to use it to get out of the undercity. Why didn’t you listen?”
“I did. I just followed you, is all.”
“But why? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? This is supposed to be my deal. My way out. It’s not supposed to include a kid.” Though there was something about children in the contract—if they decided they were compatible and so on. Gael gripped his hair and tugged. “Aarrrgh.”
“You tried to kill my—the man I was with.”
“But I didn’t.”
“Only because someone else shot him first. If they hadn’t, your shot would have done it.”
Gael’s stomach churned. “How do you even know that was me?”
“I followed you when you were trying to sell the gun.” She glanced at the duffel, which was the same bag he’d had that day. Price had let him keep it for his handful of personal belongings. “Then you told your friend Price everything.”
The door banging after Price had let him into the shop. That must have been her. Gael had been so busy looking over his shoulder for Trass’s enforcers after he’d botched the job, he’d never stopped to consider he might have a smaller shadow. And anyone who truly knew Price wouldn’t have had the guts to sneak into his shop. Might have been different if the intruder proved to be a scared young girl, though.
Gael dropped his hands to his lap. “Why didn’t you show yourself sooner? Price might have been able to do something for you.” Not likely, but it made a good story. “Burning sun, how did you manage to stow away for four weeks?”
“I slept in the locker, mostly. Got food when everyone was strapped down for transitions.”
She’d handled the whole interstellar-travel thing better than he had. She was just as pale as she’d been in the alleyway, but no skinnier. In fact, she even looked a little healthier. Being able to keep food down during transition obviously made a difference.
“You were moving around the ship while it skipped in and out?”
Aavi shrugged one shoulder. “Sure. No one else was about. The showers were fun. I’ve never had a blast shower before.”
Gael hoped he’d never have to have one again. “Who did you bribe on the freighter and what exactly did you tell them? How did you pay them?” He glanced at her bracelet.
Aavi covered it with her hand again. “I had a credit chit. I was holding it for . . . That’s why I was there. To hold it.”
Huh. It made sense. If the bald man had been waylaid, the girl . . . Aavi, might have had more chance of getting away. Or something. There was a reason he’d never advanced farther up the criminal chain than runner, cleaner, or reluctant assassin.
“What did you say?”
“That I was running away. Following my brother.”
“I cannot believe they didn’t turn you in.”
“You’d already taken credits to give up your bunk. He was happy to make the money back smuggling me into the cargo hold.”
“It was the same guy?”
Aavi shrugged. “He said he had ambitions and they didn’t involve serving as a steward, whatever class, for the rest of his career.”
“Good luck with that one.” Gael sighed. “Why me? Didn’t you have anyone else?”
The angry and defiant look she’d been fostering for the past few minutes faded. “No.”
“Why were you with the bald guy?”
“Bram is really nice. You think he’ll let us stay?”
“Can we stay on topic?”
“I’m glad you didn’t pick that woman on Cappadocia. That place is basically a hole in the ground.”
“So I’ve heard. Wait, how did . . . You know what? Never mind.” She wasn’t going to answer his questions and he was too tired to press. That, and her story was probably like his: kid brought up from the streets and made useful. “I want to clean up and take a nap.” Maybe find something to eat. “You should do the same. We might be out of here by tomorrow, and I have no idea what sort of place I can get in Landing, or if I can even get a job.”
&nbs
p; “Maia said she’d hire you.”
“Not sure how much she’ll pay. What can you do?”
“What do you think she’ll need?”
“Maybe someone to sweep, wash dishes, or wait tables if she doesn’t have an autoserver in her place. Then there’s packing and stuff. Seems like Maia runs the store. Maybe errands? Hopefully she doesn’t have any one she wants roughed up and killed. I’m so frigging sick of that kind of work.”
Aavi’s eyes were so wide, the whites showed all the way around.
“I’ve never actually killed anyone,” Gael said, just to make it clear.
She nodded jerkily.
“Get some sleep.”
Aavi rolled back to her side of the bed and burrowed under the quilt. Gael took a shower with real running water and crawled in next to her under the softest quilt in the galaxy.
He meant to start on a plan, how he was going to support himself and Aavi as well as save enough to repay Bram and maybe, eventually, find another place to live, but sleep claimed him before he got to figuring out how he’d get back to town.
The new drill bits worked like magic. The right resonance made all the difference, allowing Bram to burrow through to the mineral deposit without causing the facing rock to sheet away, taking him to the bottom of the crevasse. He made several holes before carefully carving out a section of stone so he could shine his helmet light over his find. The scans only told most of the story—size, density, and direction. He wouldn’t know exactly what type of mineral he’d found until he extracted some.
Changing one bit for another, Bram prepared to extract his sample.
He should be checking his lettuces for grubs, or fixing the leak on pump four. The new seeds he wanted to try had been in the order from Maia, along with the filters for this suit. He could be cooking, cleaning, harvesting, preserving, packing. Hell, he could be talking with Gael about how they were going to go about breaking the contract, reworking the contract, figuring Aavi into the contract.
