My arm claws at the ground, pulling me through the rubble, towards a gasping soldier who clutches a fist sized hole in their chest where Fennec’s arm cannon has blasted them. Their other hand reaches upwards with a small sidearm pointing at Fennec, come to take revenge. In the rubble I feel a large shard of glass slice my hand, I grasp it firmly and try to drive it into the hole, but it shatters as it hits the metal hand that blocks it.
The soldier flicks his metal arm and sends me flying into a broken piece of the wall. I feel one of my ribs bow under the pressure. The pain shoots up my body into my mind. Now clenching my jaw at more than the pain. The shame that I cannot even kill a dying man, the uselessness of my body in this state. That I must rely on strangers to save me, one of whom is a master, the other a traitor in my eyes. The creature laughs at my expense heinously inside my mind.
Something strikes the side of my head firmly, dazing me. My eyes are filled with stars as I feel a metal hand grasp my throat and pull me into the air. The hand squeezes, then goes limp almost immediately, my eyes open fully and I see a cloud of dust spraying in the air, a loud thud as the hand that tried to strangle me slams into the ground. My body follows quickly after it, I can’t keep my balance on one leg. The dust falls and lands upon me, red streaks form and I realize it is blood. My eyes confused by the sight in front of me. The stump of the arm sprays arterial blood now, the wound is strange, cut perfectly, like it was made with a cutter, but there is no burn.
In front of me I see the blue haired woman holding a blade of some kind, the edge a vibrant blue light. The blade is stranger than the wound, I have never seen anything like it. In the center is a metal rod, arcing light starts at the hilt and bends at the tip of the rod, like a blade made of light. Before I can think further, the blade swings and beheads the soldier. Dust erupts as it passes through.
Bang – Whoosh – Bang – Bang three soldiers fire upon her, the plasma rounds roll off of some kind of rippling shield, like the one that protected Warden Akaria and the stadium of the Colosseum. Sekat, they can’t even hurt her.
The blue haired woman rushes towards the other soldiers and begins dismembering them one by one, her form is flawless, like she has practiced it a thousand times. My eyes drink in her blade’s song, trying to hear its rhythm. Every slice goes through the metal of their armor with ease like it were made of nothing but air. The soldiers try to retreat but Fennec shoots them in the back as they do. Within a minute they all lie still, seeping blood, the smell of burnt flesh from Fennec’s plasma arm cannon high in the air.
If my people had those weapons, the damage we could inflict. Perhaps I have been wrong to reject her, perhaps I should befriend her for the blade of light. My stomach churns at the idea, my chest burns at the thought of speaking with her, my heart betrays me again as it flutters from the sight of her as the dusted blood falls down streaking across her face. She looks like an angel of wrath sent by the heavens to administer their judgement. Clenching my jaw and shaking my head I push the thoughts from my mind, looking around for anything I might use to defend myself. On the ground I find a jagged piece of stone, in the shape of a blade, the edge razor sharp. I hide it in the folds of my clothes.
“My lady, we need to go.” Fennec says, his robotic hand retracting back into the flesh covered one.
She does not speak, her eyes taking in the horror of what her hands have done. Her mouth begins to open to speak but she vomits instead, resting against a broken pillar. This might have been her first kill, I know the look, Arrum was the same, as was Neeba. There is a feeling rising in me now as I look upon her, not of hate, but of guilt. She may have slew her first person because of me. I know that I shouldn’t care about the burden of a master’s soul, but the guilt rises still. She still does not speak. I can hear sirens beginning to sound around us. The man Fennec is timid to disturb her, as he can see what I see, she is stunned. The innocence of never taking a life with your own hands lost from her.
“Vada Nokul Demka.” I say to her, trying to stand using my one arm to pull me up to my one leg. A sad sight I must be.
She slowly looks up to meet my gaze.
“He is right, my lady.” Fennec says giving me a nod of approval “In the old…” he begins but I interrupt.
“It means focus the hell up, feel bad later.” I say pointing towards a low flying ship heading towards us, spotlights flooding the walls.
“Sekat.” Fennec curses as he sees it, then he turns to me “You coming too?”
My jaw flexes at the question, but I nod to him. I will need them to escape this place, I am useless to my tribe if I am dead. It is more than just my life I live for. Without them it will be hard to fix my arm and leg, without them I will not have opportunity to obtain a blade of light, the hand I still have sings for one.
Fennec puts my arm over his shoulder and whispers quietly to me “I’m not a bleeding heart like her, try anything and my blade will have words for you.”
A smile forms on my lips as I nod to him, it is a strange comfort to hear a common threat among my people. Perhaps I can learn to work with someone like him. Warden Akaria was more than she seemed as well, and I suspect she may be their inside person. Why else would we have detoured to see her back in the masters city, cutting down the number of soldiers escorting me. It all seems too much a coincidence, but why does she want to help me, is she going to help all of us? I push the thoughts from my mind, survival demands my focus.
“My lady, follow me.” Fennec whispers as we depart into the night.
***
Half dragged by Fennec as I hop on my one leg, we move through a small alleyway, the smell of piss and human excrement is thick in the air. There is a man laying on the ground holding a bottle that holds liquor of some kind, the label says as much in a hasty scrawl. He looks like a vagabond, his skin and clothes dirty, his hair unkempt. Where are we that someone like that can afford what guards of the ruling tribe in my old city used to receive as reward. This place is strange to me, the house windows don’t have bars on the second story and above like my people. There are no metal spikes or broken glass upon the ledges to stop people from climbing.
In the sky there are the three moons I know all too well, the air feels cool like it normally does at this time, I am on my planet still, I know this much. In the distance I smell burning oil, like the machines that powered my cities large gates. The sound of a bustling city begins to make itself known to my ears, my right one aches fiercely the ringing still quietly buzzing in it from the explosion. When we get to the streetway my eyes blink quickly taking everything in.
There are carts being pulled quickly by some type of engine, metal wheels drag underneath some, others float upon the air like the stretchers the masters use for wounded. The disparity in wealth is very obvious. Some are rusty, some are sleek, the owners dressed much differently. The rusty ones have dirty riders. The sleek polished metal ones have people in tailored suits, strange hair styles much like the masters who watched from the stadium seats in the Colosseum. What in the hells is this place. The people shout and slam on horns at each other. There are men being beaten in the streets. Men and women walking around with scanty clothes and pluming headdresses of some kind, blowing kisses at people who pass. They have numbers painted on their chests with glowing ink, the symbol of the masters currency, the Deca painted next to it.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
My mouth falls open as I look skywards and see a mountain sized sphere of glittering metal, lights from across the spectrum sparkle from it pushing out against the night. Shapes dance across the surface, one of a small circle being flipped onto a table.
Lucky Q Casino open all night – drinks and rooms comped for high rollers
Next a new animation plays of a jumping animal with long ears holding something in its mouth. A series of text plays above and below it.
Skippy Hare’s Lounge – ladies’ free entry
My eyes take everything in, but I don’t understand what this place is.
“Oi, move out the way with yer crippy.” A man barks from behind us.
The blue haired woman has pulled up a hood I realize now, a headband covering her temple implants, stains of blood down her right side still. No one seems to care. Nor do they care that I am drenched in it. Looking around I see we are in good company, there are no timid eyes around me.
“Yeah – yeah.” Fennec grunts pulling me up onto his back to make space for the man to move.
My pride stings a bit, now being carried by Fennec, but I keep it to myself. It is barely on my mind with everything else that dances around me. As we pass by a pan filled to the brim with dark oil, Fennec dips one of his hands in it and rubs it across my face.
“Sekat.” I curse, spitting some out “Why?”
He points towards the projections on alternating street lampposts, there are pictures of people, text scrolling above and below their face. They are all plastering similar pictures, my eyes blink twice taking in the person on the projections. Sekat, the pictures are of me.
Official Warrant – Issued by Governor – Alive – Reward 100,000 Deca
My eyes squint at the number, 100,000 Deca. It is not often that we used it, however on market days some merchants required it. To recharge our laser cutters, they would charge us one Deca, we would have to trade a bag of scrap with the ruling tribe for this single Deca. What have I done to warrant 100,000 bags of scrap. Or perhaps Deca are less valuable, and the ruling tribe exploited us alongside the masters. My eyes fall to the text that scrolls below my image.
Name: C7447 / H777 – Race: Kuwathi – Age: 18
They do not even allow me the decency of a real name. A tinge of sadness strikes a chord in my heart, I hadn’t realized my birthday had passed, which means I did not say a prayer for my mother this year. My jaw loosens, I will have to make time, I may not believe in the gods, but she did. I feel the blue haired woman throw a cloak over me, pulling me back to reality, her eyes look frayed and hollowed as she pulls up her scarf a little higher over her face. My eyes turn back to the streetlamps again and the text has changed along with the picture.
Official Bounty – Issued by the Republic of Hekat Grand Senate – Dead or Alive
100 Billion Deca
Name: Yama – Race: Unknown – Age: Unknown
My eye hangs on the reward offered before it lowers to the picture of a middle-aged woman, with a large plume of hair, a half grin on her face and a toothpick hanging from one side of her lip. There is defiance in her eyes, a defiance that I recognize, a defiance that all my people have had at one point or another. My lips begin to form words to ask a question, but Fennec breaks the silence that had fallen over us.
“My lady, how much do you have left for operational expenses?” He asks, his face is weary, he is clearly older than her, maybe by ten years, but he seems younger than his face portrays. Perhaps the stress of working with her is getting to him.
She takes a moment checking her holopad still in stride towards our destination before replying “270,000 Deca.”
Fennec chokes on the air for a moment his eyes wide as he turns to her, stopping in the street, we are nearly to the enormous spherical building glittering in the night sky. Ships rise from holes in the side of it, moving in different directions. I have a thought for a moment as I watch some of the ships disappear past the atmosphere, a thought I have had often since childhood, watching them disappear into the sky – I wonder if someday I will be able to sail the stars, seeing the things Sage Artemius used to show us on his holos. Some things defying belief. Arrum was sure they were fake stories and images, worlds covered in water, vegetation of extraordinary colors as far as the eye could see. No such place could possibly exist in such contrast to our own world of barren sand was Arrum’s belief. But for a small part of me, I still hold out hope that there is more than this.
“You spent another 150 million Deca…” Fennec asks her, dropping all formalities. His eyes seemed panicked.
“I have…” she begins but he interrupts.
“We will speak more of it inside.” He says looking around him warily. There are eyes on us now.
The blue haired woman says something under her breath and swipes quickly through her holopad, pushing ahead of Fennec through the crowd.
“I told him she was not ready for such a task – the naivety of this impetuous girl will be the death of me.” Fennec grumbles to himself as he pushes through the crowd after her.
We are upon the sphere-shaped building now, as I look upon it, I realize it appears to be some kind of defunct starship that has been cannibalized into a city. The newer beams that arc around the old frameworks remind me of the masters cities. A thought dawns on me, perhaps this is an Arasha city, those that shape the metal brought by the carvers, for the masters.
“Is this an Arasha…” I begin.
“Yes. No more questions, no more speaking, pretend you’re mute.” He snaps at me. My jaw flexes but I do as he asks.
Eyes open, mouth closed I take in the scenery as we pass through massive steel doors, there is a line of people we move through, it channels people to different booths with an attendant, metal bars block the way inside, I see some of them retracting after people speak with those in the booths. There are armed guards posted everywhere, they wear red painted armor with three insignias in a line on the center chest plate. They do not interact with the crowds; they stand as sentries holding plasma rifles.
“Next!” one of the attendant’s yells from their thick glass booth.
“Here’s my credentials and the toll.” Fennec says swiping his holo at the terminal.
“What about the… the hells is wrong with him?” the attendant asks peering at my missing appendages.
“Little grease monkey thought he was big enough to play with a laser torquer, you know for the big drill bits that get sent north. Anyways wasn’t bad enough he ripped off his leg in it, also burned his arm off with the arc welder he was trying to fix the dang thing with.” Fennec lies, then leans in towards the glass saying quietly “He’s my cousin’s boy, otherwise I’d just sell him for the organs, got an appointment in sector D12 to get him patched up. Think you can help me out?”
“This true?” the man asks, turning to me.
“He’s mute, been that way since he was a boy. Look if it’s a matter of payment, name your price, I’m in a hurry.” Fennec says raising his holopad as though he’s going to swipe it.
“He got credentials?” the man asks looking me over again.
“Kept it in the arm that was – well turned into ash.” Fennec says with a shrug.
“Fragging hells.” The man says looking at the line behind us, his jaw unclenches and moves back and forth before he says “Fine, thousand Deca and you sure as Hekat’s tit didn’t come through my booth if anyone asks.”
“Done deal.” Fennec says swiping his holopad towards the man’s.
The attendant looks down to his holopad and then back up, waving us to pass. The metal poles retract into the floor and Fennec swiftly whisks us through the small walkway into a massive chamber with high ceilings. In the distance I see the blue haired woman waiting, her back leaning against a large metal beam that rises hundreds of meters above us. The size of this derelict ship is astonishing to me, I don’t think I have seen anything to rival it except the masters’ cities. It is larger than ten of my tribe’s cities stacked together. Hundreds of thousands of souls must call it home.
“Where to?” the blue haired woman asks.
“Sector D12, old buddy Caldren owes me a favor. Should be able to fix him up in a couple hours and get us a transport ship out of this dump.”
“You trust him?” She asks as Fennec pushes a series of buttons on a terminal near the wall.
“Enough to not ask questions, given proper motivations.”
The door slides open, a slight grinding sound as it does. We step into it, the design similar to the pods that transport the hunters, except these pods are encased in rusting metal and seem very worn down. Fennec punches in D12 on the interface panel, the doors slide closed, and a loud screeching resounds in the small chamber as it lurches towards the destination.
“How much does he need for said motivations?” The woman asks.
“More than you have.” Fennec grumbles shooting her a look.
“I’ve already sent Kotina a message.” she says, there is an air of annoyance in her voice.
“Hope she gets it in time, you know the delay out here is long for the gatecomms.”
“I sent it as a priority one.” She says shooting him a look back.
His demeanor changes slightly, the fluster seeming to lift a little as he says “Hope that doesn’t raise any red flags… my lady.”