Pickers 2: The Trip

by Garth Owen

  "Did you? What was the conclusion?"

  "She's not coming with us past Zaragoza. You heard what she said, she could never be one of us."

  "I'm more interested in how you feel about that."

  Maxine shrugged, but she kept her face away from her father's gaze, just in case it gave anything away. "We are fast friends and, what is that phrase you remembered one time? Friends with benefits. I like her, and I'll miss her when we drop her off. But we have a pick to get to. A big pick."

  "The biggest pick. But, cherie, the pick will still be there next year, if you want to stay in Spain for a while. To test the edges of your friendship. Town types can become perfectly good pickers. I did, after all."

  "Didn't you tell me there's a blight in France? If this pick is as big as promised, they need it even more than we do."

  "The blight is just a rumour."

  "Because people aren't being allowed into Spain from France, so the news is just whispers. If they're not being kept out in case they bring it with them, then why?"

  "Perhaps...."

  Maxine knelt before her father. "Papa, Chloe is good people, but I see no way she would come with us any further than Zaragoza, this year or next. And we can't afford to put off the pick. If we do find some blight proof crops, there are some places that will just be able to get a fast harvest in to see them through winter."

  "That.... Sounds like the sort of argument your mother would have made. I hope it means you've inherited more of her sense than my stupidity."

  "About equal measures, I think."

  "Go to bed, cuddle up with our passenger. But don't make enough noise to get the chickens going again."

  "I can't make that promise Papa. But I'll try."

  Maxine slid down the ladder and let herself in through the door at the back of the wagon. They had hung the double hammock in the space between the racks of salvage wagon one carried. It was swaying gently from her and Remy's movements on the roof. The movements broke from the rhythm as Chloe stirred and drew back the thin cover. She eyed Maxine and smiled. "Take your clothes off." she said.

  It was an odd thing to make her nervous, Maxine thought, but getting naked and climbing into the hammock was outside her comfort zone. When they were on the road, she tended to sleep at least partially clothed. If there was an alarm in the night, she preferred to be running around wearing something. That Chloe was watching as she shed all her clothes gave her a strange thrill as well.

  Maxine stood naked at the foot of the hammock, letting Chloe look at her. The low light hid more than it revealed, touch would be a better way to find out her shape. Chloe's arm reached out, but not too far, she didn't want to tip herself out of the hammock. As Maxine started climbing the racking, both Chloe's hands went out to the side to brace the unstable bed. Maxine slid across the taut fabric, and they settled the swinging platform into a new equilibrium.

  Chloe pressed her skin against Maxine's, and ran her fingers over the other woman's body. "Been lying here thinking about you. I couldn't sleep." Her knee moved up, squeezing between Maxine's legs. Clasping Chloe's thighs between hers, Maxine ground against it. She closed a hand over a lovely breast, testing and savouring the weight of it. They kissed.

  Zaragoza was rebuilding itself from the river Ebro outwards. The heart of the redevelopment was the centuries old basilica, now given over to secular use. The traders hadn't moved in, but the bureaucrats had.

  They had entered the town slowly, escorted by armed cyclists, and parked up on the space between the basilica and the river. The cyclists sat on the wall above the water and watched- not threatening, but with their weapons at the ready- as two transit officials walked from the cathedral to the wagons. This was the greeting every traveller received when they entered Zaragoza, so there were no nerves in the wagons.

  The family left their weapons behind as they dismounted. Remy sauntered toward the officials, meeting them halfway. "Hola Jorge. Nothing to declare, of course."

  "Ah, Remy, you tell us that every time. We shall check your wagons the same as every time, as well."

  "Of course. And then some wine."

  "Manuel," Jorge told his colleague, "Remy is a regular trader. A picker, he calls himself. He gets me terribly drunk every time he visits, then he sleeps with my poor, widowed sister. Then he leaves, and she has a strange smile for weeks. You would think his behaviour would break her heart, but, no. Because of his immoral behaviour with a member of my family- and the blasted hangovers- we always check his family's vehicle thoroughly when he comes here to trade. Get to it."

  Manuel wavered for a moment, then nodded and strode off to the nearest of the wagons. "You put my relationship with your sister in a bad light." Remy said.

  "My sister is as bad as you. She says she will only ever love one man, and he has been dead for years, but that she has physical needs that you satisfy." Jorge tutted theatrically. "You have one more than normal." he observed as they walked toward the wagons.

  "Let me introduce you to Chloe. She may be interested in settling in your city."

  "We do have a number of single men at the moment. Including my own son, as it happens. A pleasure, Miss Chloe." Jorge offered his hand. When Chloe took it, he bowed forward to kiss her knuckles. "There are formalities for anyone wishing to settle here. We can deal with them once Remy has settled his trading levies." Jorge spread his arms wide to take in the whole family, and said, "Come inside and I shall give you drinks and you can tell our intelligence ladies tales of life in the bad lands."

  * * *

  There was still water in the river, though the level was low. There had been years, Maxine remembered, when that had not been the case. A pool had been dug out and partitioned from the main flow and they could look down on children splashing in it.

  Chloe leant in so that her shoulder rubbed against Maxine's. "I've been given the keys to a place to stay. I'm told it's quite large and rather nice. Would you help me move in? And we could...."

  "One last time." Maxine had a wistful tone. She turned a little smile to Chloe.

  "Maybe. Until the next time you come through town."

  "Beautiful girl, by the next time we are here you will have broken hearts and had a dozen offers of marriage. You'll have forgotten all about me."

  "No I won't. I'm never going to forget you."

  Maxine kissed Chloe's cheek. "I should hope not. But.... Well, I don't know how long it will be until we're back here. Papa wants to go over the hills into France. He wants to go home, and help with the blight that we keep hearing about." It was the story they were telling people now, loaded with enough of the truth that it hid the specific details of the pick to come.

  "You will come back, though? One day?"

  "I don't know. Papa might want to settle down in our old home."

  "Oh." Chloe looked away. "So.... I may never see you again?"

  "It is possible."

  There was only the splashing and happy shouts of the children for a while. "When are you leaving?" Chloe asked.

  "A day or two." Maxine said. "Papa is going to see if he can buy some seeds to take into France. Maybe they'll be blight resistant." It was another part of their cover, made up on the fly by Remy when he had been gossiping with Jorge.

  "Well, I suppose we should make them memorable." Chloe turned back, forcing a smile.

  * * *

  "The Goat Track? That is a crazy route." Jorge was shaking his head. "You seriously think you can get over the Goat Track?"

  "You would be surprised what our wagons can climb. You can almost control each wheel motor individually. They are nimble." Remy poured himself some more wine.

  "They are houses on wheels. Houses on very big wheels."

  "We will make it."

  "Well, I certainly hope so. I suppose you are going to ask for some of our seed reserve? As far as I know, we have the same strains that the blight is affecting over the hill."

  "We'll take anything you have spare. From as many strains as you can give
us, some of them have to be immune."

  "Perhaps not. Now, I did not know anything about farming, until news of the blight started coming in. I schooled myself quickly. Just a rough understanding, but, it seems a lot of what we sow now, for all their fancy names, is derived from just one or two old seed lines. They may have enough in common that the blight will take them down as well, or it could easily adapt. And then, if it does come over the hills...."

  "So, you won't help us?"

  "Of course we will help you. I remember when you first came over the mountains. You and your two little girls and a freezer full of vaccines. You helped us save this town- you and the Frenchies who filled your freezer- and there are a fair few folk still around who remember that. We're not happy at the bastards on the border. They're not just keeping French refugees out, but they aren't letting us send help into France, either. We trade seeds with all the local farms, and we always try to hold a surplus. It won't be enough, but you can take as much of that surplus as we can spare and try to make a difference with it."

  "You're a good man, Jorge."

  "I try. I mean, I used to think I had to be the tough guy and intimidate everyone, but I was never much good at that. Now, stop drinking my wine and go away and fuck my sister, or she'll moan at me for months."

  * * *

  "This bed is huge!" Chloe exclaimed, throwing out her arms and legs and rolling around on it. "I have never seen a bed so big, let alone slept in one. Or made love in one."

  "Neither have I." said Maxine, hopping off the bed to escape as Chloe made a grab for her ankle. She skipped a few steps back as Chloe came up onto all fours and poised on the edge of the mattress, looking ready to dive after her.

  "This whole apartment is huge. How can they give me something so big? Why don't any locals live here?" Chloe wondered, giving up on pouncing and sitting back.

  "There still aren't enough locals to fill all the accommodation in the city." Maxine said. She sat beside Chloe and rubbed skin against skin. Chloe leaned in toward her and made a sound that might have been a purr.

  "Why not?" Chloe nuzzled against Maxine's shoulders, then moved lower, to nip and suck at a taut nipple with her lips. Gentle pressure against Maxine's chest encouraged her to lean back, until she was lying on the soft mattress and Chloe could move around above her, kissing all over.

  "Because.... Just there's good.... No, not.... Oh, there works too." Maxine laid a hand on Chloe's head, hoping to guide her movements, but sure she couldn't. "Because...." she started again, after a little sigh. "Because, about six years ago, the town was hit by cholera, and a lot of the townsfolk were killed. We came over from France with a vaccine, which helped, but the population was still halved. That is why Zaragoza is so keen to take in new people, to build their population up again." Maxine's exposition became ever more breathless as Chloe kissed down toward the prize, following her fingers, which had already slipped inside.

  Chloe stopped kissing down Maxine's stomach and lifted her head. "How did I never know about this?" Her fingers were still moving inside Maxine, making it hard for her to reply.

  "Because.... I don't know.... Because people don't like to talk about that sort of thing. Maybe no-one wanted to put you off coming here."

  "That's...." Chloe stopped sliding her fingers in and out of Maxine. "Does that mean this is a dead person's home?"

  Maxine grasped Chloe's wrist, to hold the fingers inside her, and started pushing her hips up and rotating them. "Yes. Yes it is."

  "That's.... creepy." Chloe looked around.

  "No. No, it's not. Don't think about it and concentrate on me."

  Chloe kissed Maxine. "I'm sorry, you distracted me with your story."

  "I won't tell you any more stories, I promise. Just keep doing what you were doing."

  "With pleasure." Chloe started kissing down Maxine's body again.

  * * *

  The seeds were in sealed tubs, heavy and square, which stacked neatly in the backs of the wagons. Each had a label, and Veronique was tagging them all on her computers as they were put in place. The little keyboard and screen combo she carried on a strap over her shoulders connected wirelessly to the larger setup in wagon one so that she could wander around freely as she took the notes.

  Coming out of wagon one, she spotted two familiar figures on the footbridge over the river. Maxine and Chloe were saying their goodbyes. Veronique watched long enough to see them embrace, then turned back to her job, guilty about her voyeurism.

  The last of the tubs were stacked at the rear of wagon two, and Remy and Tony were rigging up the cargo lift to speed loading up. Jorge and a couple of his minions were taking stock of the salvage that had been emptied from the two wagons to make space and as symbolic payment. Veronique noted that he had a similar portable computer to hers. She would have to find some new piece of exotic equipment, if town bound officials were catching up with the technology she wore.

  Maxine arrived as the last of the tubs were stacked in wagon two. There was a hint of red around her eyes, and she wore an expression Veronique knew well. Talk to me about anything but my feelings, it said. Chloe trailed a little way behind, the flush of her emotions showing more clearly on her pale skin. Maxine swung up into wagon one, climbing out a moment later with one of her bows and a quiver full of arrows. She took it over to Chloe and helped her fit the quiver and bow for comfortable carrying. Then they kissed.

  The rest of the little party loading the wagons looked the other way, embarrassed or understanding the need for privacy. Jorge stepped up to Remy and offered his hand. They shook, then decided this was insufficient and embraced. Jorge hugged Tony as well, then kissed Veronique on both cheeks. Somehow, during these farewells, Maxine had joined the family line up, so Jorge kissed her as well. "Good luck with your mission. I hope what little we've been able to give you will make a difference." He gave a little bow and then walked over to stand beside Chloe.

  The turbines had been fired up earlier, so the batteries in both wagons were fully charged. They started rolling almost as soon as Remy and Veronique were in their driving seats. Maxine hung out of the open door of wagon one for a moment as they built up speed, giving a last little wave to Chloe, then climbed into the passenger seat.

  The Goat Track had been a fully tarmacked road once, long ago, trailing up between the steep edges of a valley, then switching back and forth as it climbed the pass at the end. The ghost of that road remained, but the surface had been cracked and torn up by the pressures of successive freezes and thaws. Large chunks of gravel were jagged stones along the route, occasionally giving way to large potholes.

  Maxine leaned over the handlebars of the bike and looked at the gouge that had been taken out of the road by a small stream. The wagons would hardly register it, but she would warn them anyway. She held her hand up to signal the wagons to expect an obstacle, then rolled her bike back and turned it around. Aiming at the middle of the gap, she moved slowly toward it, then throttled up when she was confident of her angles. The blip of acceleration, to the rear wheel only, raised the front off the ground. As she neared the gap, she jumped up from the saddle, bringing the bike with her and hopping across the gouge. She waved to the wagons and scooted ahead to continue her reconnaissance of the terrain.

  * * *

  "Who do you suppose did all the work on the track?" Tony asked. He stood as close to the road edge as he dared, looking down at all the switch backs they had negotiated and, beyond that, the valley floor, disappearing into a haze.

  "Other pickers." Remy suggested. "Folk who do not wish to go through all the formalities of those self imposed, self important border guards. Smugglers." He was standing by wagon one, something solid and grounded to keep in check the vertigo he was embarrassed by.

  Maxine and Veronique were stood atop the low, rough wall that was the only guard against toppling over the edge of the track. Remy's discomfort was only heightened by imagining the fall that awaited either of his daughters should they slip. He looked down
at the surface of the track, instead. This was one of the sections that had been repaired, coarse gravel laid into the holes and ruts and pounded down until it was tight. Some sections had even seen the tar of the old surface melted over them again to add extra integrity. The repairs hadn't started until they had hit the bottom of the steep, back and forth section of the road. It was as if the road up the valley had been left intentionally ripped up and near impassable, so only the determined- or those in the know- would continue on to the relatively smooth climb.

  "Do you feel dizzy up here?" Tony asked.

  "It's the thinner atmosphere." Remy answered, quickly.

  Even with power assisted steering and a smoother road surface, getting the big wagons up the Goat Track was hard work for their drivers. They had stopped to swap over, but the girls had insisted on making it a meal stop. And now they were staring down, down into the valley, pointing out landmarks they had passed, and giving their father fearful sweats. Remy turned away from them and walked round to see if the water had boiled yet.

  They sat on the tail of wagon one and the front bumper of wagon two and ate venison Maxine had shot the day before and drank an odd, aniseedy, herbal tea Veronique had picked up in Zaragoza. It was the same as so many other meals on the road, but with a better than normal view, that Remy didn't want to take in. Afterwards, they loaded Maxine's bike back into wagon two, and she took over the driving from Remy.

  * * *

  At the top of the pass, in a crack in the stone that wasn't quite large enough to call a cave, was a pile of offerings to the road-menders. A sign in five languages said, "Leave more than you take. We trust you to pay your toll." They left a selection of recovered tools, and a battered old jerry can three quarters full of alco-fuel.