Eric watched the meteor shower while sharing a campfire with his boss, McHenry. The two were seated out back of McHenry’s garage, situated on one end of the town’s only cross-street. The town was so small it didn’t even have a name. Oh, it had a few descriptors favored by one group of residents or another, but the old clerk Jacobson had thought the town being nameless was funny, and no one had managed to make him put anything other than “Town” on official documentation in twenty years. The Town had all the necessary structures and vendors: A post office, a fuel depot, a power-distribution center, a waste aggregator, and a general store. McHenry’s garage was an addition to the minimum that held onto relevance by dint of hard work and expertise. Farm equipment and crop-dusters may not need a fully certified starship mechanic servicing them, but no farmer within three hundred kilometers would trust anyone but McHenry with their gear. It helped that there were no other towns within a radius of three hundred kilometers. The area was inhabited mostly on account of the fuel depot: a rail line ran right through town, alongside a paved inter-county road. The land had been cheap, and the residents had been looking for separation from the hustle-and bustle of star-port Alpha. One other structure kept the mechanic’s shop company: the local schoolhouse, a four-room affair consisting of a cafeteria, a library, a lab, and a lecture hall. Most folks did their learning at home, only making the trip to town for hands-on experiments and exams. Such were the perks of nigh-unlimited bandwidth for the local communications network. McHenry’s garage doubled as the local forge, for those who held to their traditions. As was the case with children the galaxy over, many had chosen to rebel against their parents by stripping back their armor to the environmental minimum, foregoing helmets, gloves, pauldrons, and gauntlets. Most still wore at least a brigandine, as expected by the colony charter. Armor was your identification, and no one wanted to be caught entirely unarmored. It was like strutting around without anything on below the belt.

“You know,” McHenry drawled as he spun his poker over the coals, cooking his summer-sausage to perfection, “There’s an old legend from back on earth, in the days before man walked the stars. Meteors and comets were called shooting stars, and it was said that if you saw one, wishing upon it would cause luck to aid you.”

“Seems like a silly superstition. But I suppose no sillier than making one when you blow out the candles on a cake.”

“Well, Boy, what are you going to wish for?” McHenry crooked an eyebrow at his apprentice.

“Isn’t it a part of those old superstitions that you’re supposed to keep the wish a secret?”

“Ah, so you’re familiar with them! Me, I’m wishing that Rancher Smith can go a full month without wrecking his tractor.”

Eric laughed. “Ah, If I told you mine you’d laugh. And probably start plotting with my aunt.”

“Has she been pestering you to find a girl?”

“I mean, I am eighteen. There aren’t any girls available in town, what with the Baxter brothers putting the moves on Stacey and Shelley.”

“You’ve got plenty of time, Eric. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from Miss Planchette, it’s that you can’t rush these things.”

“Are you still trying to get her affections?”

“Boy, I have her affections. She just won’t agree to tie the knot!” McHenry huffed. “Young Whippersnapper.”

“Heh.” Eric snorted. He thought he saw a shadow fall away from the meteor shower, but it was probably just a trick of the firelight. Maybe some girl would come along and he’d manage to catch her eye. Maybe he’d be single forever. Eric didn’t much care at the moment. He had his books, his armor, his work for McHenry. What more could a dude want? Well, a beautiful girl would be nice. The old mating instinct wasn’t one easily repressed.

#

Stolen novel; please report.

The following morning Eric rose to find a girl camped out on the front porch, curled up inside a camouflage-pattern bedroll. McHenry hadn’t stepped out front yet, having instead left via the back door to fetch eggs from Miss Planchette’s chicken coop. Miss Planchette ran the town schoolhouse, and kept chickens and hogs for eggs and bacon, with the occasional disection for biology. Eric remembered when the class had combined physics and biology, dissecting a hogs eyeball. It certainly made the principles of lenses memorable.

Eric stood there looking at the girl for a good minute before it sunk in that he didn’t recognize her. There was a stranger on McHenry’s porch. Why was she camped out here? Had she run out of fuel for her vehicle? Was she hiking from one town to the next, as some sort of endurance feat? Eric looked around and spotted an unfamiliar bike parked in the lot besides McHenry’s garage. That was probably hers. Why hadn’t she rung the doorbell? Well, She hadn’t been there when the two turned in for the night. Maybe she hadn’t wanted to wake them? Eric was pretty sure McHenry had an air-mattress stowed away somewhere. Or Miss Planchette did. Regardless, Eric couldn’t just leave the stranger sleeping on the porch now that he had discovered her.

“Rise and shine, Starshine” Eric addressed the sleeping figure, not yelling, but using his out-door voice.

The girl startled awake and sat up, a handgun appearing in one hand from a slit in the bedroll.

“Easy there, Starshine,” Eric raised his empty hands in a placating gesture. “You wouldn’t mind moving off the porch? It’s a mighty fine place for napping, but we’ve got beds for that. You doing okay? Any trouble with your bike?”

The girl lowered the blaster and blinked the sleep out of her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a bit twitchy. My family split recently, and I just had to get away from everything. Heard this town was about as far away from trouble as I could get.”

Eric chuckled. “I’m surprised you heard of this town.”

“Network search.”

“Well, If you’re looking for a place to stay, you’d better ask Miss Planchette. She knows just about everyone, on account of being the teacher for the county.”

“Thanks. I didn’t really go digging into who all lived here. I didn’t realize the Town was so small.”

“Most of the folks around here are Ranchers or Farmers. They live out by their fields. Everyone’s at least a few kilometers apart, on account of the fields being so large. We all inherited hoarding tendencies from clan Ford, so people only drop by once or twice a week. Most of that is for chapel, and only about half the folks attend.”

“I don’t suppose there’s much work around here?”

“There’s plenty of work, for farmhands. Most of it’s spoken for already. I’m McHenry’s apprentice. You might be able to convince him to take you on, but I wouldn’t wager on it. Miss Planchette could probably find you something. I don’t suppose you’re good with kids?”

“Never been around many.”

“Then you probably won’t apprentice to her. Miss Planchette’s the schoolteacher. I said that already, didn’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. You want some breakfast?”

“Uh, Sure? I don’t exactly have cash on me…”

“No charge. It’s just basic hospitality. Come on in, Mr. McHenry’s probably back with the eggs by now.” Eric beckoned the woman inside. She slid out of her bedroll, her handgun holstered in the small of her back where it was hidden under the jacket she pulled on. Eric couldn’t help but notice the very well-fitted bodysuit that the woman wore. It was a dark blue, almost Navy. It was but the work of a moment for the girl to roll up and shoulder the bedroll.

“I didn’t catch your name?” Eric fished for an answer.

“Elcy,” the woman answered.

Eric called to McHenry through the open door, “Hey, McHenry! We’ve got a guest for breakfast. Say’s her name’s Elcy.”

“Elcy? It’s a pleasure to meet you,” McHenry said as Elcy and Eric made their way to the kitchen. McHenry’s house was a single level, with bedrooms on one end, and the kitchen on the other, with a lounge area for the pool and ping-pong tables in the middle. McHenry swore both were good practice for hand-eye coordination and math skills, but Eric figured the man just wanted to hone his skills for the monthly tournament.

“You’re new in town. Just passing through, or meeting someone?” McHenry asked as he whipped up three plates of scrambled eggs and bacon, with a side of toast and jam.

“I’m kind of just wandering, looking for a place to settle down for a time. My family moved around a lot, and then split up just a little while ago. I did a bit of research on the datanet and figured this town was far enough away from trouble.”

“Nowhere’s ever free from trouble,” McHenry interjected. “But, We get little enough out here. You should probably talk to Miss Planchette. At the risk of sounding impolite, you don’t sound much older than Eric here, and he’s only just hit the age of majority.”

“The age of major pain, you mean. Taxes. If I never see another tax form it will be too soon,” Eric moaned in over-dramatic fashion.

“I’d appreciate it if you could introduce me, then.”

“Sure thing. I’ll walk you over right after we finish eating. Eric, you can head over to the garage and turn on the lights. I think we’ll tackle Donaldson’s gimbal first thing today. You remember where the manuals are?”

“Yeah, we loaded them up yesterday.”

“good man.”

The three fell to eating, and then McHenry walked Elcy over to the schoolhouse as promised.