“Thank you,” Moss said as they all moved stiffly from the side door. A door opened at the front of the room, and a young woman entered. She was short and gaunt with long dirty blond dreadlocks and thin wool clothes. She smelled of sweat and body odor. She scanned them dubiously.

  “What have you brought, Martha?” the young woman asked in an authoritative tone, narrowing her eyes at Ynna.

  “City folk. On their way to C City. Won’t trouble you for long,” Martha answered. She turned to the three and said, “This is Princess Petal.”

  “Princess?” Ynna exclaimed.

  “Way to make nice,” Gibbs mocked under his breath.

  “Yes, Princess. My father is the king here,” Petal said, her voice echoing in the small room. “One of my roles here is to show visitors around, but if you cannot respect our laws or customs then perhaps you wish to go back to the city?”

  “No, no,” Moss said quickly. “We are pleased to make your acquaintance and would love a tour of your fine town.”

  Petal laughed at him. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

  “I have business in town. If you’ll excuse me,” Martha said and hurried from the room, leaving them with the unfriendly princess.

  “You go to Carcer City from here? Looking to turn yourselves in?” Petal smirked.

  Moss smiled, and with an overly friendly tone said, “Something like that.”

  “And who, may I ask, are you?” she asked.

  “Moss, Gibbs and Ynna,” Moss told her, done with the fake names.

  “Ynna is an unusual name,” Petal observed with an unsubtle hint of condescension.

  Ynna seethed. “I know.”

  “Shall I show you around?” Petal asked, seemingly pleased to have gotten under Ynna’s skin.

  “Yes, please,” Moss ingratiated.

  As they stepped from the final door out into the town, the heat hit them like a blast.

  “Whoa,” Gibbs said, wasting no time in pulling off his jacket. Moss followed suit, but Ynna simply pulled her sleeve down further to try and cover her metal hand.

  “Yes, it is warm,” Petal said with a smirk. “City dwellers take some time adjusting.”

  Moss looked up, seeing that there were vents built into the dome. “Would running the AC spread the disease?” he asked.

  “No,” she told them, but did not continue to speak, leaving them with the sense that she did not wish to say anything more.

  The town was little more than a dirt thoroughfare with wooden structures on either side, reminding Moss of the movie they had watched the night before. Beyond the buildings were huts and tents with supplies. The road terminated at a large castle made of wood which towered over the town. Next to it was a church with a globe set atop the steeple. The people of the town seemed utterly disinterested in the visitors, giving them hardly a glance. They were all thin, tanned and weathered, wearing light and loose clothing in the heat.

  “Here,” Petal said with a gesture to a two-story building, “is the inn. I’ll imagine you’ll want to stop by there when we are done. Next door is the saloon where they have drinks, meals, and nightly performances. Next to that is the general store and a doctor’s office just beyond. The rest of the buildings are homes or businesses which you don’t need to trouble yourself with.”

  “Nice place,” Gibbs said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “How much is the inn per night?” Moss asked idly, and Petal laughed.

  “Always about money with you city people. We don’t traffic in that nonsense. Currency based economies make slaves of citizens. We barter here,” Petal said.

  Moss felt like a child the teacher had publicly mocked. “Oh.”

  “Powers gave us some stuff,” Ynna whispered to him.

  “How do you select leaders?” Gibbs asked. “Was your father elected as king?”

  “No,” Petal snapped. “He was trained to be king by his father and is doing the same for me. The royal family trains their children in the ways of just governance, and we rule the people with kindness. You people elect corrupt idiots to ‘serve you’ when they really serve whoever paid for them to win the election. Then you act shocked when they serve only the rich.”

  “We have no illusions about our puppet government,” Moss said, and Petal smiled for the first time since they had met her.

  “Then you are smarter than most,” she said as they approached the end of the street. “Here is the church of Tellus, God of the Earth. We faithfully serve him, and he repays us with the bounty of the world.”

  As they passed, they saw several people in long frocks rubbing dirt on two naked men. They were chanting in a language Moss did not know. The men had their arms outstretched as the others pulled globs of wet mud from a trough at the base of the church. They didn’t need to ask for Petal to say, “These men have just completed a shift being corrupted by technology. They must be purified in the eyes of the father before returning to society.”

  “They are the ones who work the tech to keep you hidden?” Gibbs clarified.

  “Yes,” Princess Petal said, and their attention turned as the heavy door to the castle opened. A large man in a loincloth stepped out, flanked by two women holding guns in gloved hands. “Ah, here is my father, King Daffodil,” Petal said with a sweeping gesture. He ambled down the steps, an amiable grin under a full gray beard. He was thin like his daughter but had a large gut which pushed down on the slight fabric.

  “Greetings visitors,” he said, opening his arms wide. “Welcome to my kingdom.”

  “It’s an honor,” Moss said up to him.

  “Wonderful,” he said happily, clapping his hands. “I presume my daughter has treated you well?”

  “She has,” Gibbs put in as the guards shifted their posture. Moss watched as he appraised them, sizing them up. He could see a natural mistrust under the affable demeanor.

  “You plan on staying long?” he asked, but Petal answered before they had a chance.

  “They mean to break someone out of C City,” she said, having correctly assessed their plan. Daffodil’s face grew grave a moment before returning to friendly.

  “Then you shall want to visit with Captain Amakum, no doubt,” he said, looking briefly at Ynna’s robotic hand. “You are his type of people.”

  “Where can we find this captain?” Ynna asked, and Daffodil looked to his daughter.

  “The saloon, as ever,” she said, harsh judgment coating her words.

  “I think my daughter wishes he would spend time in her company rather than that of drink,” Daffodil said with a laugh.

  “Daddy!” she exclaimed, turning a bright shade of red.

  “Come now, Petal, there is no shame in human desire. It is the greatest strength Tellus has bestowed upon us,” he said, holding up a pious finger. Infuriated, Princess Petal hustled into the castle, giving a slight bow to the visitors before disappearing.

  “Heavy is the head,” Daffodil intoned, shaking his head and sending beads of sweat to hiss on the wood at his feet.

  “Will this captain take us at night? We have little time,” Ynna asked.

  “That, I do not know,” the king said. “Is there anything else I can provide before consoling the light of my life?”

  “No, you and your family have already shown us such kindness,” Moss said.

  “May Tellus grant you good fortune in your endeavors,” the king said and turned, his flat rear jiggling as he ascended the steps. The guards did not drop their gaze from the three as they turned to head back to the saloon.

  “Strange place,” Gibbs said absently, and Moss checked to be sure the guards were out of earshot.

  Ynna did not seem to care, saying, “Fucking dirt worshipers don’t seem to like me all too much.”

  “At least we were warned,” Moss said.

  “I guess that’s something, anyway,” Ynna said, displeased with the entire place. A young man made his way up the street, lighting torches as the light of the day faded.

  “The heat is brutal,” Gibbs said.

  “Gotta love dipshits who loathe the very technology their lives depend on,” Ynna said sarcastically. “Fucking idiotic if you ask me.”

  Moss watched as a mother hustled her young son into a home and away from them. It wasn’t fear he saw on the woman’s face, but hatred.

  “I won’t be sad to leave here,” Gibbs agreed. “Petal was lovely, eh?”

  Ynna snorted. “A real charmer.”

  “What did Powers give us to trade?” Moss asked, and Ynna patted the bag slung over her shoulder.

  “Car pieces, repair equipment, and some small arms. Stuff he said they would like,” she said.

  “Gave it to us while you were on the phone,” Gibbs said, “Issy still distant?”

  Moss dropped his head, supposing enough time had passed to now speak of it. “Seems that way. It’s all weird now,” he told them quietly.

  “She’ll come around,” Ynna offered, putting a hand on Moss’s shoulder and giving a little squeeze.

  “I’m not sure she should,” Moss said pitifully as they walked up onto the porch of Drudge Head Saloon.

  Chapter 10

  The entire saloon was constructed of wood with a bar off to the left, a stage at the rear and tables with chairs filling the space between. The heads and arms of ThutoCo drudges hung from plaques on the wall with names and dates scrawled beneath. Hard looking men and women sat at the tables, watching a woman dance on stage. She was naked except two large feather fans she used to conceal herself as she moved. She played at shocked embarrassment as, one by one, the plumage fell away.

  By the time they reached the bar, she had but a few feathers left to hide her body as she continued to dance with false modesty. The audience whooped and hollered as they approached the glistening, shirtless bartender. He was too fixated on the show to pay them any mind. Moss cleared his throat. The man’s head turned before his eyes caught up, meeting Moss’s gaze. A broad grin crossed his dry lips, exposing a few yellowed teeth. Staring at those teeth in a room constructed of wood, it struck Moss how truly different this place was from anything he had seen before. He had known it, experienced the differences, but something about the rotted-out teeth landed on him.

  In the Burbs, teeth were perfect. Skin was perfect. Hair was anything anyone could want. The world was sterile and clean, lighted in oppressive fluorescent. Even out in the city, people cared more for how they appeared than about anything else, endlessly sending pictures and updates to uninterested friends. The city itself was concrete and glass. Nothing was natural—the human body genetically manipulated before birth and augmented after.

  This town was different in every way—a bubble amidst the trees.

  Moss glanced at the robot mounted on the wall behind the bar and realized this was no sanctuary. The lives here were about technology as much as in the city, only from a different point of view—loathing rather than the full embrace. Moss’s momentary trance was broken.

  “What can I get you city folk?” the bartender asked, his eyes darting between them and the stage.

  “What’s your local specialty?” Gibbs asked.

  “Everything we got is local,” the man said graciously. Moss had expected him to be cold and hard based on the clientele and furnishings, but he seemed genuinely happy to be serving them.

  “Whatever you think is best,” Gibbs said with a smile.

  “What can you offer?” the bartender asked and Ynna didn’t miss a beat before placing the bag on the bar and unzipping it.

  “I’ll never get used to a moneyless system,” Gibbs said as the man rifled through the bag. He continued when no one spoke. “I mean, back at home, everything we did just came out of our paycheck which itself was determined by output. Spent my savings on digital adornments and games I’ll never see again. Wild, right?”

  “Ah,” the bartender said, pulling a classic pistol from the bag. “This will fix you for drinks,” he said, “and dinner when it comes.”

  “Great,” Ynna said as he put three wood cups on the bar. “Also, can you point us to Captain Am—Am—A-something? Fucking heat’s getting to me.”

  “Right there,” he said, pointing to a dark man nursing a drink and paying no attention to the woman and her two remaining feathers. The crowd cheered, and Gibbs stared as the woman was left with just her hands to cover her as she hustled from the stage before turning to give a sweeping bow.

  “Like that, do you?” Ynna mocked, shoving a drink against his chest.

  “What’s not to like?” Gibbs protested, grabbing the cup and taking a sip. “Oh, my,” he said in a scratchy voice.

  “Come on, perv, we’ve got a job to do,” Ynna said, and they walked over to the captain. A brown leather hat sat on the table next to a flickering candle, and he was dressed in all khaki. A button-up shirt rolled to the elbows and tucked into pants covered in pockets. He was muscular. Not with the vanity figure of fit men from the city, but the practical muscles which came from hard work.

  “Looking for a ride?” He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at them with red, tired eyes.

  “We are,” Ynna said.

  “Then join me,” he told them in a low voice, pushing a chair away from the table with a booted foot. They all sat. “You’re on the run?”

  “Something like that,” Moss said.

  “Wouldn’t be here if you weren’t,” he said.

  “That’s true,” Moss agreed. “We are looking for someone to take us to Carcer City.”

  “That right?” the captain said, slowly raising his cup to his lips and taking a slow sip. “Come to the right person, though perhaps at the wrong time. Anders, by the way,” he added by way of introduction.

  Moss introduced them before asking, “Why a bad time?”

  “I’m pretty well drunk,” he stated, “but I won’t be forever.”

  “We can go in the morning,” Ynna offered.

  “But you wish you could go now?” he asked knowingly.

  “We do, but we can wait,” Moss offered, not wanting to anger their potential ride.

  “If you’re going to C City, I’ll bet you’re trying to get there first,” Anders said.

  “We are,” Moss admitted. The man nodded.

  “The princess called you captain,” Gibbs put in. “You fly?”

  “Not anymore,” Anders said and finally raised his head to look at them. He was chiseled and handsome, the type of man Gibbs loved to complain about enviously back in the Burb. “I used to work colonial trade routes back in the day.”

  Ynna said, “A pirate.”

  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” Gibbs tried to save the moment, but Anders was grinning devilishly at Ynna.

  “Yes, some would say pirate,” he told them.

  “Wow!” Gibbs said, unable to contain his excitement.

  “Not as glamorous as you imagine,” he said to Gibbs. “Got shot out of the sky in zero-g. Kind of thing makes you long for good old terrafirma.”

  “I’ll bet,” Ynna said, eyes wide as he spoke.

  “C City is quite a ways away. You can pay?” he asked, and Ynna placed the bag on the table. The man smirked.

  “Nothing you got in there could get you where you’re going, got money?” he asked.

  “A couple of million,” Gibbs told him.

  “So, not really.” Anders snorted. “Seem able-bodied.”

  “We are in a hurry,” Moss pressed.

  “Your hurry doesn’t pay my bills,” Anders said, stone-faced.

  “We are good in a scrap,” Ynna said.

  “Then I’ll take that bag, a couple a million and a little help along the way,” he said, and the crowd in the room complained loudly as a young boy stepped to the stage with a violin.

  “Bring the girl back!” one shouted, but the kid was unfazed, lifting the instrument to his cheek. He slid the bow slowly down once, before playing at a fever pitch, creating a sound Moss had never heard before in his life. The room fell silent, all eyes glued to the boy as his fingers flashed around the strings. He began dancing about the stage, the rapid music filling the space.

  “It’s a hell of a thing,” Anders said.

  “It is,” Moss mouthed, watching the kid play. The instrument twanged and stopped as the door to the saloon was kicked open by a hulking man followed by several lackeys.

  “Anders!” he shouted, and every person in the room turned to look. He was tall, broad, dirty, and angry.

  “Don’t pull guns in here,” Anders told them before standing and turning to face the man.

  “You got me,” he said, raising his hands. Ynna was up instantly, leaving the bag on the table. Moss and Gibbs followed her lead.

  “You knew I was running that raid and you snaked it out from under me!” the red-faced man accused, the others moving in to form a semicircle at his sides.

  “I remember it differently,” Anders said with smiling defiance. The man moved closer, his friends closing in. Ynna made a quick series of hand motions they used during operations, indicating that she would take the three on the right and Moss and Gibbs would take the others if it came to it. They nodded nearly imperceptibly. “Why don’t I buy you fellas a drink, and we can talk about it,” Anders offered.

  “Why don’t I pull your fucking head off and ask it for a drink?” the man threatened, moving closer. “You still have any of the loot?”

  “What makes you think it was me?” Anders asked, all false innocence.

  “Don’t think me a fool. I know your work when I see it. Now, is there anything left? Maybe I’ll go check your garage?” he said. Moss watched as Anders shifted his feet slightly. The move was unmistakable. Moss shifted as well, ready for what he knew came next.

  “You have no proof and no business checking my garage,” Anders said, his tone serious and deadly.

  “Fine,” the man said, turning away for a moment before wheeling around, his fist moving quickly toward Anders. The captain dodged left quickly, leaving the man to punch air. Anders landed a blow with his left hand, but the man could take a hit.

  Ynna’s foot crunched against the face of one of the lackeys, sending him reeling back and the room erupted in violence. Gibbs leaped forward, spearing one of the men to the ground as Moss punched another in the nose with a crack. The man stepped back but recovered quickly as the woman next to him swung at Moss. He moved but not quite quickly enough, taking a blow to the neck. A fist hit her in the face from Ynna who had already dispatched her three. Moss lifted a robotic leg, and it folded inward at the shin, the mock skin bunching up before he released it at the recovering man’s chest. It sprang out like a shot and sent the man crashing into a table.

 

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