Chloë

by Marcus LaGrone

  Heather slowly moved her head in large circles with her eyes closed as she tried to stretch her neck. She sat there with her eyes closed for several moments before talking, “Narrow building I take it. Long and thin with a very regular design.”

  Chloë nodded and the pair sat in silence.

  “Chloë?” Heather asked with her eyes still closed.

  Chloë suddenly burst out laughing as she realized the problem. “I’m sorry, I nodded. I didn’t even think about the fact that you still had your eyes closed. That was very foolish of me.”

  “Nah,” replied Heather as she slowly opened her eyes and offered a feeble grin. “You’ve just spent a lot of time around my Second Mother. I swear she could have heard you nodding. Me, not so much. Especially with my head hurting this much. Is there any water, by chance?”

  Chloë nodded and spoke, “Yes! You try to get your feet under you, I’ll grab you some water right quick!” She ran back into the other room, eager both for the distraction of activity and relieved that Heather was finally doing better. A quick rummage in the cabinets produced a large glass. A tap on the front of the small refrigerator soon filled the glass with crisp cool water. Grinning like a school girl, Chloë quickly returned to Heather and handed her the glass.

  Heather suspiciously tasted the water and then, with reservation squashed by the futility of the situation, downed the entire glass. “Oh, that felt good. Come on, let’s take a look at the rest of this place. So this is a narrow high efficiency apartment, but the door is on the side not the end…”

  “Yes,” replied Chloë. “What does the door location matter?”

  “I’d expect the door on the front for a normal apartment; the side for a portable unit. Let’s take a look at those windows…”

  Chloë smiled and pointed out the curtained windows to the side of the room.

  Heather stood, unsteadily at first, and inspected the window. “Hmm… they are fit tight to the outside, but the windows are recessed to accept them. My guess is they are designed for them. And this is probably a portable dwelling and it is all closed up for shipment.”

  “Which then begs the question, are we being shipped?”

  “And how, and where-to?” added Heather.

  “I thought the where was obvious: back to my father,” groused Chloë.

  Heather shrugged, “Not so sure. Well, not so sure about directly to your father. This apartment is a bit below your station, I’d imagine. And if we were going to go straight to your father, they’d want to conduct you there in some style rather than risk insulting your father.”

  Chloë laughed, “I could almost see my father, ‘Here is your reward: five million for the return of my daughter. Here is a fine for six million, for her unbecoming accommodations.’” Chloë beamed at Heather, “And yes, that is about his style. He always made sure I had the best of everything and anything I wanted… except my mother.” The latter comment wasn’t bitter so much as it was in earnest longing.

  Heather smiled. Well, she was almost always smiling, now wasn’t she? “The how is the important part right now. If we are still on Afon, then cutting our way out of here is no big deal. If we are on some form of spaceship, however, then things might be tricky.”

  “So which is it then?”

  “How would I know? You do the thinking, my head still hurts too much. The water was in the kitchen?” Heather asked as she headed out of the bedroom.

  Chloë followed, close on Heather’s heels, and looked about her and tried to cast a critical eye. “The walls seem simple and square in construction. The escape pods I was shown on the starships all were rounded off, to make a pressure vessel. No one makes a pressure vessel with hard corners. Thus I would guess, if we are on a starship, the hull where we are is pressurized.”

  Heather smiled broadly as she looked up from her new glass of water. “Excellent! See, that formal education and experience is paying off for you. I wouldn’t have even thought about that.”

  “You’ve never been off world?” asked Chloë with a bit of a frown.

  “Off world, yes. On a starship, no.”

  The perplexed look on Chloë’s face spoke volumes.

  “I went off world by means of the Gatehouses,” replied Heather with a broad grin.

  “Oh!” replied Chloë as it all started to make sense. “That seems a whole lot nicer, well, at least faster. I didn’t know those went off of Afon. I thought they only covered the Highlands.”

  “Well, mostly. There are a few cool exceptions… I’ll explain later.” Heather nodded about her, “So back to here: what else do we know?”

  “If we are still on Afon, I don’t think we are moving. Not even a gravsled is this smooth in its travel and my balance hasn’t twitched once.”

  “My balance, on the other hand, hasn’t stopped twitching,” murmured Heather. “How long have you been awake? Are there any other indications of the time of day if we are still on Afon?”

  Chloë’s mind raced, “I’ve been up about a half an hour or hour longer than you. No clocks in here. No overt signs of the time of day. But if it is a sunny day, I’d expect the HVAC system would eventually fight that.”

  Heather grinned broadly, “I do think you keep selling yourself short. You are a very bright young lady.”

  “I’d trade half my smarts for a good dosing of courage,” replied Chloë with a frown.

  “Not a chance, keep your smarts and your wits. We’ll work on courage together,” beamed Heather.

  Chloë laughed, “Why couldn’t I have met you years ago? Oh, my life would have been so much better…”

  Heather shrugged as she downed her third glass of water, “I probably would have given your tutors ulcers, wouldn’t I have?” She shook her head and grinned, “But I am flattered by your comment.”

  “You’re welcome,” beamed Chloë. “I’m surprised you haven’t raided the pantry yet,” she offered as she tried to change the subject. “You never did finish lunch!”

  “I am so predictable, aren’t I,” grinned Heather.

  27

  A new lunch, one free of heavy sedatives, was soon packed away and the pair quickly tidied up around them. They then surveyed their apartment with the greatest possible scrutiny. Unfortunately little more could be easily learned, so Heather sat about unlocking the door. Her first attempts at picking the lock failed miserably, so she settled on shimming it instead. She had hoped to avoid such an approach as it would be obvious what had happened. But ultimately shimming the lock was still far less obvious than if she had bashed the door down or cut it off its hinges. The door lock was fairly easy defeated, but that joy was short lived as it soon became obvious that a second lock, a padlock of some type, was still on the outside. Heather growled an obscenity under her breath, and Chloë’s ears flushed with embarrassment, such un-ladylike behavior! Chloë laughed at the whole situation, picking locks wasn’t exactly ladylike either, but there they were! With a few more words that expanded Chloë’s vocabulary, Heather invoked a small Live Steel blade in a shower of blue sparks and cut off the offending lock by hand.

  “Okay, we are stepping out. Keep your eyes peeled for people as well as cameras. Ready?” asked Heather.

  Chloë nodded, “Ready!”

  Heather eased the door open and slid out with Chloë fast on her heels. It wasn’t what either of them had expected, much less wanted. They were standing inside a second container. This one windowless with heavy walls and arced corners. The building they had left was set up on insulating blocks and bolted to the outer container. An oxygen scrubber and a series of large tanks with plumbing fittings connected back to the apartment were the only other things in the container.

  Chloë looked around and stated the uncomfortable truth, “We are inside a shipping container. One designed to haul things in a hard vacuum.” She ran up to the hatch on the end and looked at the display and provided more unwelcome news, “If I’m reading this right, it is showing no appreciable atmosphere outside.” She looked
around the lock and read other writing on the wall. “The container is designed with a safety lock that won’t open unless there is at least 600 torr on the other side of the door. I think we’re stuck!”

  Chloë was ready for almost anything; anything but what happened—Heather collapsed to the floor and started bawling uncontrollably.

  “Heather!” called Chloë as she ran over to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Heather fought to talk through the waterfall of tears. “We’re trapped! All my life I’ve always had the answer for whatever was thrown at me. One more trick or the help of one more friend… or even Father if things got too rough. Now here I am, heaven knows where, and I can’t do anything! No one to call to for help, and I have no idea of what to do! We can’t risk puncturing the outer container or we may all die! I’ve always had a way out… always! Act, not react! That is what I’m supposed to do, and now we’re stuck in here for who knows how long and there is nothing we can do!”

  Heather’s despair was complete, and it made Chloë’s heart ache more than it had since her mother had been sent away. Chloë… well she had never been in control of her life, and she knew it. And now here was Heather, the most outgoing and free person she had ever met, and they were stuck in a box at other people’s mercy. Chloë was upset. Very. But she knew her emotions paled to that of Heather; Chloë had just barely tasted freedom, Heather had lived it.

  “Come on. Let’s get you back inside and cleaned up,” suggested Chloë as she tried to help Heather stand.

  There was a flash in Heather’s eyes that immediately told Chloë that Heather wanted to protest. Heather was just too tired… Tired and scared.

  Back inside with the door closed, and with the feeble interior latch thrown locking them in, Chloë sat Heather down on the futon and tried to dry Heather’s eyes and clean her up, “Hush! Hush, brave Heather.”

  “I’m not brave! Brave is when you are scared and do the right thing anyway!” bellowed Heather as she fought, and lost, the fight to control the tears. “I’ve never been scared before… not like this… All alone…”

  “Hush,” cooed Chloë. “You aren’t alone, you have me. You are brave, Heather. I should know, I was never brave or even thought about being brave until I met you. You are just flustered that you got caught flat footed at the restaurant. You are still fighting the drugs; I can tell, you didn’t eat that much for lunch!”

  Heather tried to laugh at the comment. “I do eat a lot, don’t I,” she offered through the tears. She stared at the ceiling and slowly fought the tears back. With the water works under control she closed her eyes and started working evening out her breathing. “Okay, Chloë, talk; what do we know?”

  Chloë nodded and then giggled to herself; nodding to a person with their eyes closed accomplished very little.

  “I take it from the giggle, you just nodded or something…,” smirked Heather with her eyes still closed.

  “See, before long you’ll be as psychic as Maria!” laughed Chloë.

  “Dad always said she wasn’t psychic, just that she had very good hearing. Not buying it, but anyway…,” countered Heather as she opened her eyes and grinned at Chloë.

  “I doubt it was my father’s men; disappearing like that from the middle of the city would most assuredly cause some serious waves. While my father has political ambitions, and planned on using me as a tool for those…,” snarled Chloë as she lost her place. “Um, right. Having a herd of cantons and a mob of prefectures, as well as the Kulpgurie government, all mad at him would not serve his ambitions.”

  “But would he go through an exotic third party? That way he’d have plausible deniability, but would still get you back?”

  Chloë’s eyes went wide, “Um, wow! I never thought my father would be that devious, but… um… I guess he might. Ick! Considering how high profile everything has been, I’m sure there will be a firestorm of media and political types descend on my dad as soon as I’m spotted again. I’m not sure how he could get me home and not have to backpedal a whole lot. Especially with you around! “

  “If it would be such a mess,” began Heather carefully, “the question then shifts to who either wouldn’t care about this being a mess or would exploit this mess against your father.”

  “Oh, crap. You think one of my father’s political opponents might have arranged this! That makes sense, but…”

  “But what?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know who that might be! Everything was so perfectly civil and sterile at the palace, I don’t know who his enemies would be. I know he has them.” Chloë sighed, “That would have been a good question for Anna.”

  Heather nodded, “Well, we work with what we know then. My first guess, and it is only a guess, is some third party picked us up. And they are still hoping for the ‘rescue’ reward not aware that your father’s situation is now much more complicated. But, like I said…”

  “It is just a guess,” finished Chloë. “Okay, let’s just assume for a moment that your guess is correct; how do we regain the initiative? Act not react you said!”

  Heather smiled, “Act, indeed!” She sighed and thought a bit, “Well, I have kicked a few heads in, and while that might have gotten around, none of those people I’ve personally run up against have seen me use Live Steel. It is uncommon off world, and less common yet from a teenage girl. That gives us both a skill and a level of surprise.”

  “So there is one more way to add skill and surprise,” beamed Chloë. “Can you teach me to fight?”

  “Fight? Oh yes!” replied Heather with an evil grin. “And Live Steel while I’m at it! Father always said girls made a quicker study!”

  28

  Chloë found it amazing how hard one could push oneself, especially when there was nothing else to do. Honestly she had expected to spend an hour or two sparring and then cool off and just be mellow for the rest of the day. Doing the same thing over and over again all day ought to have gotten dull pretty quick, right? Well, tiring it was even if it wasn’t dull: Heather was an excellent teacher and kept things moving. They’d practice throws and tumbles, courtesy of the futon for padding. Then they shifted to sparring and finally dance. Why dance? Is it just something in her comfort zone just to pass the time? Looking back, the reasons for dance were obvious: exercise without being boring, practicing coordination and, most importantly, timing.

  With no small amount of coaxing, Heather got Chloë to teach her what few dances she knew from the palace at Bevrik III. Chloë was terribly embarrassed; inside half an hour, Heather was better at said dances than she was. And she had grown up with them. Chloë just marveled at Heather’s natural sense of rhythm and motion.

  To their humor, the main lights inside the apartment seemed to be on a timer. “Night” was soon upon them and they took the cue to clean themselves up and finally relax. The shower felt wonderful, but if only the apartment had a tub… Heather washed their clothes in the sink and then hung them to dry. Chloë was embarrassed to realize that the kidnappers had provided neither with a change of clothes. Heather was just practical about it all and Chloë took comfort in Heather’s utilitarian attitude. Modesty gave way to practicality, and that was that. She only hoped that the kidnappers wouldn’t suddenly rush in on them.

  That concern was ill placed. Night came and went with no interruption by the kidnappers. They woke, dressed and ate, and started up their routine from the day before. With one minor change: Heather introduced Live Steel.

  “Here take this,” offered Heather as she held her hand out and produced an elegant short sword out of thin air. “Teaching you to use Live Steel from first principals would take months, but using an existing blade, freely given, acts as a linchpin and makes this go at in a far more reasonable amount of time. It is yours to keep, and by the end of today, I hope to make sure no one can ever take that away from you.”

  Chloë took the weapon from Heather gingerly and stared back at her wide eyed, “Um, but if I have this, then what will you use?”

&
nbsp; Heather laughed as she held out her arms and slowly spun in circles. As she did, a waterfall of blue sparks rained down onto the floor of the cargo container. Clanging to the floor were a cornucopia of weapons large and small: swords, axes, glaives, bows, crossbows, slings and spears. They all lay out on the floor around her as she smiled with an evil grin, “I have spares!” With a simple snap of her fingers the entire arsenal disappeared in an instant: just a flash of blue and they were gone. Not even a sound on their departure.

  “The most useful aspect of Live Steel we are going to concentrate on is the summoning and dismissal of the weapon. Once the weapon is truly yours, then people are going to be hard pressed to take it away from you; you can always summon it back. While it is possible to destroy ones’ connection with a weapon, that is very hard to do and not a skill base we are likely to encounter.”

  Chloë nodded as he head swam, “Uh, got it. Maybe…”

  Heather laughed and beamed, “You’ll get it. Don’t worry!”

  Chloë smiled, that was the brightest laugh she had heard from Heather in two days. It made them both feel better. “Then teach on! We seem to have made time for it!”

  The day pressed on and they cycled between their activities much like the day before. Chloë was unable to grasp control of the Live Steel blade their first session, or even the second. But as the day wore late and the call of dinner started to wear on their stomachs, Chloë was finally able to summon and dismiss her blade!

  They took that as a hint to call it a day and both were happy with the days’ accomplishments. Heather started to cook dinner while Chloë sat about a task of her own: sewing nightgowns out of the extra bed linens. Heather fabricated Chloë a needle by shaving down a tine on a fork. Piercing the end for the eye of the needle took some doing. Well it might have been easier and faster if she hadn’t been trying to cook at the same time! Needle fabricated, linens cut, edges unraveled for thread, Chloë sat about her work. She had been taught to embroider, not sew properly, but she made good work of it none the less. The garments were simple and far from perfect but they appealed to both her sensibilities and it kept her busy and out of the way of Heather cooking! Food, shower, laundry and a change and they both felt much more civilized.