by Carysa Locke
She didn’t need to worry about more snakes. She needed to worry about getting down this summit before her leg gave out, or she lost so much blood she passed out.
The crystal sat right in front of her. She leaned in, holding tight to a piece of uncut tubing while she shifted her pack from her back, bringing it around in front of her. Carefully, she reached out and grasped the crystal. It was as long as her forearm and three times the diameter. She had to roll it a bit to get enough of a grip to lift it.
It wasn’t heavy.
It was warm to the touch, almost as though she could feel the energy inside it. She thought she detected a faint vibration. Belatedly, she wondered if she should have worn gloves to touch it.
Not that it mattered. She kept losing the damn things. That was why she wasn’t wearing them in the first place.
She worked it into the opening of her pack. It didn’t fit. Scrap. She had to set the crystal down and take out some of the pieces she’d already collected this morning, bits of nanograph that still had some life to them, parts she thought she could repair. She kept two of the smallest pieces.
If she didn’t bring something back for Marlon, there’d be hell to pay, and there was no way she was giving him her crystal. He’d take it for himself, probably sell it for half its worth and she wouldn’t see a single hard coin.
The second time she tried to put the crystal in her pack, it barely fit. She couldn’t completely close it, but it would have to do. She slid it back over her shoulders onto her back again, then just stood where she was, shaking.
Now the hard part.
She almost laughed aloud at that thought, but her leg hurt too badly. She’d have to be careful going down. The last thing she needed was to disturb another snake.
Slowly, so slowly, she started making her way back down the summit. She moved from one handhold of scrap to the next. It was much harder going down than coming up. Partly because she didn’t trust her injured leg to hold her. The pain radiating from it made her want to buckle to her knees.
She kept moving. Slow and steady, Annie, she told herself. Rather than hit the same shifty crate that almost dumped her on the way up, she skirted around it. The scrap next to it was solid, heavy and unmoving. Good. She stepped, transferred her weight, stepped again.
Annie stopped. She’d reached a spot with no handholds. Short of crawling on her hands and knees, she had to cross a meter-wide gap with nothing to hold onto.
She wasn’t sure she could even kneel down on her injured leg. And if she could, would she get back up?
A meter wasn’t so bad. Annie took a fortifying breath, and stepped, slowly and carefully, feeling her way across uneven layers of scrap. So far, so good. She stepped again. Everything was solid. Good. One more —
She stepped, and hit something wet. Her boot slipped. For a second, the entire fifty meter drop yawned in front of her as her arms pinwheeled, frantically searching for a handhold that wasn’t there. Her stomach gave a sickening lurch, and then she was falling.
Chapter 2
A scream tore from Annie. Reflexively, she threw her hands up in front of her face, bracing for the awful impact to come.
It never did.
Her scream died, and slowly, she opened her eyes.
Oh Mother. This was bad, so bad.
Annie hadn’t hit anything because she was hanging, suspended in the air just above the scrap she’d been tumbling toward. Her entire body lay on a cushion of nothing. In her terror, her Talent had acted instinctively. She hadn’t used it in so long, she didn’t even know how to consciously trigger it anymore.
Or, maybe she did, but she just refused to remember.
Annie hovered in the air with telekinesis, and she didn’t know how to stop. How was she going to get down off this mountain of scrap now? How was she going to release her Talent without finishing the lethal fall she’d started?
And how was she going to do it before some other junker wandered this way, looked up, and saw her?
Don’t panic, she told herself. That was impossible. She was staring at the long drop in front of her, terror roiling her gut. She wanted to throw up. If her Talent failed, she was dead.
She closed her eyes, trying to focus. It was easier when she wasn’t looking down.
She had two options open to her: one, try and use her telekinesis to right herself, so she could continue climbing down. Two: use her telekinesis to get off this summit before she killed herself. The latter was quicker and likely safer, except she hadn’t used her telekinesis in years and had no idea if her strength would hold long enough to get herself all the way down.
The longer she stayed like this, the less likely that became. If her leg hadn’t been so injured, she probably wouldn’t risk it. But she needed safely down now. Gulping in a huge breath of air — and an equally huge leap of faith — Annie focused her will and nudged her telekinesis further.
Slowly, so slowly, her body lifted into the open air. Blood dripped from the bottom of her boot to the scrap that seemed a dizzying space below her. The only thing holding her up and safe from death now was the force and will of her own mind. She could already feel the strain.
In fits and starts, she directed her body down, drifting at an angle along the incline of the scrap summit. She almost hit a piece of ship hull jutting up into the sky and barely stopped her momentum in time. Navigating around it put even more strain on her already burdened Talent. A headache started to throb behind her eyes.
Just a little farther.
She wobbled in the air. The ground was maybe twenty meters away now. She could feel herself faltering. Faster, I have to move faster. Air whipped at her face as her ungainly glide turned into a wild tumble. Fifteen meters. Ten. She might even survive if she dropped now.
She had to slow down or she’d crash anyway, and probably break something. Her brow furrowed, her hands thrown out as though she could physically force her descent to slow. Five meters. Her Talent stuttered, and she dropped like a stone for three feet before catching herself again.
Mother, that was close.
A thin sheen of sweat coated her body, not just from the summer heat, but the effort of holding herself airborne. Her whole body shook as she started moving forward again. The headache was approaching blinding levels.
Three meters. She couldn’t hold it any longer…her Talent fizzled out and she dropped the remaining distance. Her bad leg crumpled beneath her, and she landed hard, sprawled on her side. Dust rose to fill her nostrils and lungs, choking her. Ow.
I made it. I’m still alive.
For a few minutes she just lay there, choking on dust and dirt, trying to assess her injuries. She didn’t think she broke anything in the fall. She was banged up, bruised, skin scraped raw in places, but the biggest pain was still in her leg, and now the headache that pounded behind her eyes.
Gingerly, she sat up and took a cautious look around. Luck was with her. It was still early morning, and no other junkers were scavenging around this summit yet.
Safely on the ground, Annie took the time to unwrap her leg and take a better look at her calf. She had to pull the fabric away from the wound where it had stuck. Her breath hissed between her teeth as the pain spiked.
It wasn’t as bad as she’d first feared. Folyark didn’t have fangs like most species of snake, instead they had an odd mouth full of sharp, jagged incisors in the front, and a secondary row of flatter teeth for crushing ore behind them. Her calf was pretty mangled, but the blood flow had slowed, and she thought with a nano bandage, she’d heal quickly enough. The worst part would be cleaning the wound. It was a mess.
She used the cleanest strip of fabric she could from her destroyed trousers, and did a better job this time of wrapping the wound. It was a little like closing the docking bay door after a ship made it to orbit, but it couldn’t be helped.
Her hands still stung as well, but there was even less she could do about them.
She pulled her bag around in front of her and tried agai
n to arrange the crystal. She didn’t want even a hint of it showing for someone to glimpse. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t get the top of her pack to seal. Finally, she had to take out one of the other pieces of scrap she’d been saving. She tied the extra scrap onto the net on the outside of her bag, and at last the pack closed.
Good enough. It was obvious she was carrying something big, but she couldn’t do anything about that.
Getting to her feet, Annie tested weight on her bad leg. Not pleasant, but doable. She should be able to make the trek back to Ferrous city.
Working her way out of maze of the junkyard took time. As she got closer to the entrance, she passed a few other junkers, and then many more. A lot more than were usually about this early.
She’d made it down that summit just in time. Had she taken her time climbing, others would have seen her for sure — and, perhaps, her crystal.
She got a few looks. Her limp was pronounced, and half her trousers were torn up. Blood and dirt streaked her bare leg and her clothes. One older man shook his head, then hawked and spat, muttering something under his breath as he turned away.
Annie ignored him. A lot of the old timers were unfriendly to the younger scavengers. The older a junker got, the harder it was to work the scrap, to avoid the snakes, and to stay nimble enough to climb even a few meters. She could feel any pairs of unfriendly eyes following her progress out of the yards.
The walk through town was worse. She had to be on her guard. An injury could make someone an easy mark for the urchins and thieves that loitered everywhere. Annie didn’t intend to give anything of hers up without a fight, but it was far better not to fight at all. She had to grit her teeth and change her limp to a confident stride. Every step was a jarring beat of agony, but she couldn’t let that show in her expression or body language.
She caught a few surreptitious glances her way. The back of her neck prickled. Too many eyes on her, too many people noting the fullness of her pack and the injury on her leg. Her shoulders tensed. She wished she had her knife in her hand.
Two figures detached themselves from the mouth of an alley as she passed. They fell in behind her.
No one would help her here, in the outskirts of the market. Annie had once seen a man knifed for the groceries he carried. His body fell to the street, and people just kept walking over and around him as his attackers ran.
Her jaw clenched. She could feel them closing in on her. She’d have no choice but to run, and she wasn’t sure how far she could manage. A few more steps…
“Andromeda!”
She flinched at the sound of her name, and worse, the familiar voice that called it. She quickened her pace, hoping to disappear into the crowd. Her two followers were suddenly a distant concern, especially since Marlon Kuro was a known entity that most people around here didn’t want to cross.
“Andromeda Jones! You best stop.”
Scrap. She made a decision, stopping and turning. If she had no choice but to deal with Marlon, hopefully she could at least keep her pack out of his direct line of sight. She pasted a smile on her face.
“Marlon,” she said. “Did you need something?”
Marlon was a big man, used to using his size to intimidate others. He towered above her, his beefy arms crossed over his muscular chest. One of them had obvious biotech augments. She could practically hear the servos whining every time he moved. She’d seen him kill people with that arm, grabbing them and pulverizing bones in a crushing grip.
She made an effort not to look directly at it.
He wore armor that was old and pitted with scars, mended many times over, and weapons everywhere he could fit a holster.
He frowned, peering down at her through a mop of white streaked, dark hair. Already, he was looking over her shoulder, eyeing the top of her pack. Annie had to resist the urge to turn and check for herself that it was closed tight.
“Where you been this morning?” he asked. “The scrapyards?”
She shrugged. “You know I like an early start.” Early mornings were routine for her. She mostly tried to avoid other people.
“Get anything good?” He reached forward, like he might grab the pack right off her back. Alarm shot through her.
Annie shifted her stance deliberately, wincing as she moved her injured leg as though it hurt — which it did — and subtly pulling her shoulder back so the bag was further out of his reach.
“Got interrupted before I could get a good start.” She gestured to her leg. “Snake got me.”
As she’d hoped, he stopped, his gaze dropping to her leg. “You never been bit before. What, you half asleep today?”
“Must have been. Hurts something fierce.” She reached back, grabbing the bit of nanograph she’d hooked onto her bag and tossing it to him. “Got some like that before it happened. I’ll get this cleaned up and drop off your share after.” She’d have to dip into her own stock to supplement the pitiful take from this morning, but it was worth it.
“Mmm.” He examined it closely. “Not bad.” From seemingly out of thin air he produced a knife like hers, and gave the nanograph a quick, professional cut. He watched as the cut mended. “Still some life in it.”
Annie kept quiet, hoping Marlon would be satisfied and let her go.
“You sure this is all you found?”
“And the snake.” She peered at him. There was something in his voice, a note she didn’t like. “Why?”
He gestured all around them with the scrap. “News is all over. Some fucker works for Laripim stole one o’those new crystals. A prototype right out of the lab. Made a run for it in the middle of the night, got killed for his trouble. But no crystal was found on ‘im.” He peered at her. “Some think he might o’stashed it in the scrapyards. You didn’t see nothin’?”
Annie’s heart was going to pound right out of her chest. She was surprised Marlon couldn’t hear it. She knew he had augmented hearing and vision. The pain in her leg was reaching all new heights, and to cover she let what she was feeling show on her face, deliberately wincing.
“Sorry,” she said, giving her leg a frustrated glare. “It figures one of those scrapping snakes would bite me the morning something like that happens.”
Marlon watched her carefully, and Annie hoped she just looked weary and hurt.
“Mmm. Too bad,” he said after a silence that went on longer than it should. “I got some other junkers lookin’, but you’re one of the best.”
Shocked, her eyes flew to his face. Marlon never gave compliments.
He gave a rasping chuckle. “Don’ look so surprised, girl. I know who my best people are. Speaking of…” He pointed at her leg. “…best get that taken care of quick. You got a new client waiting at the shop.”
The shop was Marlon’s ship and landslip repair and parts service. Annie worked there when she wasn’t out in the scrapyards. Two things she knew well: salvage, and ship repair. She was good at it. Almost like the ships spoke to her.
“New client? Don’t you want me back out in the yards, looking?”
“Like you’d get far on that?” He shook his head. “You be laid up for a day or two, at least. Can’t go climbin’ scrap heaps with one good leg. Better you stay in the shop.”
She forced herself to look disappointed, as she knew she would be if the crystal wasn’t already in her pack. She couldn’t imagine how much hard coin this new client must have paid for Marlon to stick her on fixing a ship instead of looking for a payday like the crystal. He didn’t have an altruistic or kind bone in his body. If he was really taking it easy on her because of her leg, she would eat scrap.
“There a reward for finding it?” she asked.
Marlon gave her a sharp look. “Yep. Two hundred thousand hard coin.”
Either he was lying, or the corporation was trying to downplay the crystal’s true worth. She could sell it on the black market for a million, easy.
She snorted in derision before she caught herself. Scrap. But to her relief, Marlon just l
aughed.
“That’s why I like you, girl. Smarter than most junkers.” He wagged a finger at her. “Laripim thinks we’re dead stupid, we take that.” He waved a hand. “Get goin’.”
She turned to limp off, trying to angle her body so her whole bag wouldn’t be visible to him. He could still try to look in it, and she wasn’t in any shape to stop him. As she moved through the crowd, putting people between them, she felt his eyes on her, and glanced back. But Marlon had already turned away and was headed for the scrapyards.
Could he be planning to try and find the crystal himself? Marlon hadn’t personally gone junking in years. But maybe this payday was too big for him to pass up.
She quickened her pace. The faster she got this crystal hidden in her stash, the better off she would be. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. For one, Laripim knew it was missing, and they wanted it back. They’d already killed for it. She thought about just turning it in for the reward, but quickly discarded the idea.
While that much hard coin would pay off her debt to Marlon, it wouldn’t be enough to open her own shop. And Marlon would know she’d done it. Something like that, no one would keep it secret. Someone would find out who had turned the thing in, and then her life would be over.
A new plan started to form in her mind. All at once, she realized she couldn’t stay here. Marlon wasn’t stupid, and Annie suddenly turning up with enough coin to pay him off would raise all kinds of red flags. He’d figure she’d betrayed him, and he wouldn’t be wrong. Marlon dealt with traitors in exactly one way: he killed them.
But if she didn’t want to live the rest of her life in indentured servitude, she couldn’t give up the crystal, either. Eight years ago, she’d escaped one form of slavery and found herself roped into another almost immediately.
Annie was done having her life owned by others. One way or another, she was going to be free.
