Discipline

- Title Page

- Chapter 1: Exile

- Chapter 2: Old Tom

- Chapter 3: The Outpost

Discipline

Published by Erik Larson at Smashwords

Copyright 2010 Erik Larson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1: Exile

They call this exile, but it’s an execution.

The thought lingered as Lexi peered sun-wise toward the bloated, purple blotch of light behind the clouds. Her home for all sixteen cycles of her life had vanished from sight, the huge, cylindrical top of the clan-hold lost in the clouds of biting sand and dust. On the horizon, she saw a stripe of muddy red between sun and surface. She knew what that color meant; her executioner would come to her in the form of a sandstorm.

Maybe I’ll be buried so deep they won’t be able to salvage my clothes. The thought gave her a measure of grim satisfaction.

She blinked back the dust penetrating her veil as the merciless wind buffeted her, rippling her white travel robes. The sound of flapping fabric shuttered her ears to everything else, encompassing her in a noisy silence. Tired of the wind’s assault, she turned and surveyed the way ahead.

Go directly shadow-wise. The old woman had pressed in so close to whisper the message Lexi had felt the dry lips brushing her ear.

She put one sandaled foot in front of another as she followed the dim outline of her shadow. Why should I listen to some old bat I don’t even know?

The sun never moved from its place in the sky, so traveling shadow-wise was only a matter of facing the hazy blob of grey she cast on the sand ahead. A simple task suited her mood, and she found herself following the advice. Wind pushed her as she walked; a conspiring partner to the crone’s words.

In the clan-hold, the timemaster’s bell sounded every turn to give time meaning and purpose. Here, in the endless expanse of dirt and sand, only the coming and going of storms marked the passage of present into past. Lexi found herself craving the ringing echo of the bell almost as much as her dry throat craved water.

Every so often, she’d glance back sun-wise, but the ubiquitous sand told her nothing of how far she’d traveled. Only the growing muddy red wall of the storm marked any change in the world. She peered back once again, and this time something had changed. A shape moved among the shallow dunes. She squinted under her veil, trying to protect her eyes as a triangular shape slowly resolved. The sail of a sand-skiff, it has to be!

As the craft glided over the shallow dunes, she could see the narrow hull on outrigger skis and a single person inside. For a moment she worried that the pilot would be her father, sailing the desert to make sure his bastard daughter had died. No, why would he bother?

She watched the sail drop, and the skiff slowed to a stop only a dozen feet away. The pilot, covered in white robes like Lexi’s, extracted himself from the rearmost of the two seats. He made his way over to her, his stride confident and purposeful.

With the wind sucking away words, the man had to yell. “Come with me.” He turned his back and returned to the skiff, not waiting for a reply.

Lexi surveyed the empty expanse and the growing wall of the storm, and then she hurried after the man. She examined the two narrow seats arranged in tandem with the mast between them—it didn’t look comfortable. Behind the seats, rested a covered bundle well secured with rope, the shape revealing nothing. Though she scarcely believed the tall man could fit, he folded himself into the rear of the two seats and nodded to the front one. After giving him a last glance, she climbed in and gripped the sides.

From behind her, she heard the grunts of his effort and the big sail rose. The skiff skidded on its skis as the heavy cloth snagged a breath of wind. He angled the sail and they shot forward. When she watched it approaching, the skiff seemed to glide across the sand. Now she knew the smoothness to be a lie as the vibrations and shudders made her clench her hands until they turned white and tingly.

Ahead, the dunes rushed at her as fast as the wind. She closed her eyes tight, but nothing could shut out the tossing and bumping of her body. Over the wind and the hiss of ski over sand, she heard creaks and groans. It’ll come apart, and we’ll be swallowed whole by the storm. Her heart beat like festival drums, but she savored the terror. Fear meant she had hope for something other than death.

After the timeless span, she heard another grunt from the stranger and the jarring movements eased. Lexi opened her eyes to see a ragged line of tall rock formations like a set of broken teeth. The world had darkened. She could see scrub-trees among the rocks, their dark leaves pulled into the branches as happened before sandstorms or when the bad spirits came.

The man jumped out of his seat and offered a hand to Lexi. She took it, feeling the callused skin as he hauled her out. He pointed to one of the rough spires. “There is a cave there; take as much as you can from the skiff while I secure it.” The wind had died down to a breeze ahead of the storm, making his words easy to hear.

She turned to gather supplies and saw the wall of dust and sand consuming the sky like the maw of a giant beast. Lexi shook off the sight and hurried to the tied-down bundle. She tugged at the knots while behind her she heard a clank of metal as the man set about his task. Her cunning fingers worked the rope free and a gust of wind stole the covering, sending it tumbling through the air. Underneath, laid two worn baskets with rough rope handles. She saw that one carried full water-skins while the other held bags of what she guessed must be food.

Water first. The roar of the storm gathered, but Lexi ignored it. She had a chore, and if her father’s lash had taught her anything, it was discipline. The narrow cave opening meant she had to squeeze to get her load through to the small cavern beyond. By the time she returned for the second basket, the man had taken off the mast.

“Stay in the cave!” He yelled over the growing roar.

The world had fallen into the shadow of the storm and everything turned dim. She wriggled into the cave and watched the darkness. Long moments slipped by as the roar grew and she wondered how loud it could become, if the sound could shake apart the cave and leave her entombed in stone. She worried about the strange man, who had come like an angel out of a story to save her. What if something happened and he needed help? Her heart pounded out a fast beat as she waited, filling her body with an energy that made her want to dart outside.

“He said to stay, Lexi,” she said to herself. She had to have discipline.

When the world had nearly turned black, the tall figure appeared in the opening, and he forced himself inside. He collapsed against the opposite wall, breathing hard. Even after he removed his veil, Lexi couldn’t see his features, only a face in shadows and the glint of his dark eyes.

“Water.” He held out a hand.

Without thinking, she retrieved a water-skin for him. She found comfort in being commanded and obeying.

He took a drink and leaned back, his eyes disappearing into the darkness of the cave. “You need water too.”

Lexi took a water-skin and dribbled a stream into her mouth, feeling her parched throat soak in the moisture. She lowered it, and fell into silence. The man said nothing as the storm raged like a desert demon.

She opened her eyes and lurched up to a sitting position, realizing she had fallen asleep. The view outside remained a maelstrom of chaos and darkness. On the other side of the cavern, she saw the man’s eyes.

“You should eat,” he said.

Her stomach growled in agreement, and Lexi pulled a chunk of redroot from one of the bags. She took a bite and chewed the bitter plant flesh. Questions raced through her mind, but she knew not to talk unless spoken to.

The man seemed to read her thoughts. “Is there something you want to know?”

She swallowed. “What do you want?”

“Why do you suppose I want something?”

Lexi didn’t want to offend with too many questions, so she picked the most pragmatic. “What happens now?”

“When the storm clears, I’ll reassemble the skiff and show you how to guide it. There is a place you can go that may have water enough for one person. It is poor hunting ground; I cannot say you will survive.”

He fell silent again, and Lexi shifted uncomfortably. “I have nothing to offer you in gratitude, but if you want me to…” she gulped, unsure of how to say it, nobody ever told her how. “…be with you like a wife. I’ve been told men find me attractive.”

“You owe me nothing.”

She relaxed, but felt a tinge of disappointment. Would she ever have a chance to experience more than the tantalizing hints from her two married sisters?

They lapsed into silence for a long while, maybe she dosed off again, maybe not—her world of the cavern and the raging storm remained unchanged. Only thirst and hunger marked the passage of time. Frustration crept into her veins and muscles, the howling wind calling to her with the sweet promise of freedom from her stone cage. She fidgeted, twisted, and stretched against the constraining boredom, but she never said a word to the man–discipline. An unearned hatred for him began to simmer, the way he stayed calm, his maddening silence, and the ever-present question he wouldn’t let her ask. Why?

She became thirsty and she drank careful measures of water, hunger came as well and she ate the bitter redroot, the cycles of eating and drinking counting away the time as the storm kept a constant vigil outside the cave. At times, she wondered if she’d die here, a hostage to the elements. Once again, she closed her eyes to sleep.

When Lexi blinked her eyes open, she saw the red light of the sun illuminating the rocks outside, the howling monster of sand and dust gone. A glance around the cavern revealed that the man had disappeared, though the supplies remained in place. Anxious to be outside, she made her way through the narrow opening.

Wind whipped her robes, forcing her to don her veil against the rough sand. The fat, red sun hung above the horizon where it always did, but with no muddy band of dust below it. She spread her arms and spun around, rejoicing in her freedom from the prison of the cave.

A sharp clank of metal came from behind some rocks, and she made her way over to investigate. Somehow, the man had reassembled the mast and sail. How did he do that himself? Despite her curiosity, she knew not to disrespect him with unrequested questions.

“You need to learn how to work the skiff quickly, the storm delayed us and there is little water to spare,” he said. “You only need to travel shadow-wise with the wind, it won’t be difficult.”

He showed her how to raise and lower the sail, how to angle the boom, and how to steer the front ski. At the clan-hold, only boys learned about sand skiffs–girls didn’t need to. Lexi drank in every word of the forbidden knowledge.

As she worked the levers to control the front ski one more time, his eyes locked onto hers and he spoke with deliberation. “Do you remember what I’ve taught you? Be sure, your life will depend on it.”

Lexi nodded.

“Then go fetch the supplies; you will leave now.”

When she returned, the man pulled a pouch from one of the baskets, and then squatted down to load water-skins and food. Lexi watched him decide how much to take, sorting out the supplies for them both. Once done, he stuffed one pile into his pouch.

He stood and pointed to the skiff. “Place the rest in the front seat. Go directly shadow-wise. You will see rocks like this.” He gestured toward the nearby spires. “But it covers a much larger area. There’s an old clan-hold there and the well may produce enough water for a person, maybe not.”

Lexi wished he sounded more confident. Again, she wondered why he had come for her and, with the hope he’d sense the question in her eyes, she peered up at him. They stared at each other for a long moment, the flapping of robes in the omnipresent wind the only sound.

“Your father, your true father, was my brother. He saved my life once.” He turned toward the great red ball of the sun, and started his journey back to the clan-hold.

Lexi wanted to ask more, she knew nothing of her true father–the one put to death shortly after her birth. The questions burned in her mouth, but she bit her lip and stayed quiet–she couldn’t disrespect her savior. Instead, she climbed into the skiff and pulled with all her strength on the rope that raised the sail.

The wind caught, and she glided across the sand. “Yeeeeeeyaaaaah!” she cried as the might of the sky pushed her over the dunes. Despite her grim prospects, she found herself grinning in the excitement of her freedom. Free. Free to soar the desert to anywhere I like.

She kept to the man’s instructions. Her skiff may have given her limitless possibilities, but her freedom wouldn’t last long without shelter and water. Time vanished in the expanse of the world and the unchanging light of the sun. Lexi didn’t need a timemaster’s bell however, her water acted like grains in a time-glass. Like a slow-stalking razor cat, fatigue crept up on her as well, making her eyelids heavy. She fought back; taking time to sleep would only make her use more water.

Finally, she had no choice but to rest, and she lowered her sail. With no place to shelter, she slept inside the skiff and hoped that no desert predator would happen across her. When she awoke, she took another sip from her dwindling water-skin and raised the sail again to be swept away on another timeless journey.

After two more sleeps, she saw something on the horizon. Rock spires? She angled the sail to edge the skiff’s course toward the hopeful sight. The formations grew with agonizing slowness as she glided closer. When fatigue threatened her once more, she ignored it. I’m so close. She started to blink her eyes against the creeping sleepiness, and the world broke into disjointed slivers.

Everything tumbled, her body tossed like sand in a storm. She heard snapping and splintering wood before finding herself face down in the sand. A half-dozen paces away, the skiff lay on its side, the mast broken and one of the outriggers sheared off. Further back, she saw the small patch of rock she must have hit in her sleep.

With care, she got to her feet. Her right shoulder felt stiff and gave a dull pain when moved, but otherwise she felt only aches that no doubt would turn to bruises. No worse than one of my father’s lashings.

I need to find the water. Her mind put priorities in order with the same thoughtless pragmatism that governed performing her chores. Something small and dark sat atop the sand some distance behind her. She hurried over and saw her water-skin, but a little dark stain next to it made her stomach shrivel. A rip in the side had let the precious liquid bleed away. No water.

A chill slithered down her skin, leaving hairs standing on end. Lexi suppressed the rising panic, losing her head wouldn’t do any good. She turned toward the rock formations in the distance and started to walk. The hot wind pushed her along as she took one exhausted step after another. Ahead, the spires loomed huge in the red light of the stationary sun. Her throat turned dry and she could taste blood on her cracked lips as she trudged ever closer. Keep moving.

Chapter 2: Old Tom

One of Lexi’s feet found a stone, and she stumbled, breaking her mind out of a haze. She glanced about to see two jagged spires standing like sentries at the edge of the garden of rock formations. Ahead, she saw stumpy scrub-trees growing from cracks in the rocks. Their thick, black leaves held moisture, but Lexi knew they had to be cooked or they’d make you sick. She knew plenty about preparing food, one of her many chores.

A sharp rock to cut the tough leaves off and something to make a fire with would give her moisture. She could carry an armful back to the skiff wreckage and use its wood for fuel. The glimmer of hope gave purpose to her strides and before long she reached the spires. Under her feet, the ground turned from sand into hard stone.

A sharp rock, your next chore. Rocks laid everywhere, broken off from the towering formations around her. An urge swelled to give up on the scrub-tree leaves and set about finding the clan-hold her true uncle had described. Nevertheless, Lexi kept her discipline and looked to the ground. Within minutes, she found a stone with a good sharp edge and stooped.

A scraping sound made her freeze, and she spun to find the source. The creature’s camouflage hid it well, but she made out the flat head and broad body of a sand lizard. Five feet long, she guessed, as her gaze ran over the six-legged animal. Large, purple eyes watched her warily as it stayed perfectly still. Sand lizards only ate plants–she knew that much about them–but the hunters said they could still be dangerous. In any event, it wanted the same scrub-tree leaves she needed to live.

She ran toward it, flapping her arms, and baring her teeth. “Grrrrraaaaaahhhhhhhh!” The big lizard spun like a sand devil and scurried away in a cloud of dust. “And don’t come back!”

“Look out!” A man’s voice rang off the rocks.

Lexi darted for cover, and from the corner of her eye spotted something big fly through the place she had just stood. She caught a glimpse of the fangs, muscles, and translucent wings of a razor-cat and sprinted away, slipping through a narrow space between two towering rocks. Behind her, she heard the frustrated howl of the predator. She emerged from the gap into a large open area surrounded by towering spires and spied a narrow curving wind canyon. With the hope of a hiding place, she rushed toward the fissure.

Inside the shaded passage of wind-smoothed stone, she put her hands on her knees and panted. Girls weren’t taught how to deal with razor-cats, only hunters needed to know that, but she had overheard men talking. The delicate membranes of the wings didn’t let the beasts fly, they used them to cool themselves and a lot of blood flowed through them. Maybe I can cut a wing and make it weak from bleeding.

Lexi tried to find something for a weapon, but the floor of the little canyon held nothing but loose dirt. Why did I let that lizard scare me from picking up that cutting stone? The wind that whistled through the narrow space paused for a moment and she heard a sound: a soft, slow padding.

She gave up her hunt for a weapon and ran deeper into the slender passage. A growl from behind told her the hunter knew that stalking had given way to a chase. She hurried around a curve in the canyon to find the passage ahead too narrow for even her slim body.

“Spirits of the sky, please have mercy on your daughter and make it quick.” The prayer came to her lips though she held little hope they listened. How many times had she prayed that her father wouldn’t find her when she hid from his anger?

Crack! The sound echoed off the rocks, whipping hard against her ears. She saw the snout and cruel fangs of the razor-cat poking around the last bend in the winding passage. Crack! The sound came again followed by a wailing howl. The fangs disappeared and she heard fast paws whisking the beast away.

Her ears reverberated with the sharp noises as she scanned for the source. She lifted her head up and saw a man staring back down from the lip of the tiny canyon. He appeared normal enough at first glance, but she caught sight of his face and her skin crawled. Where she expected to see eyes, she only saw two large, dark circles. In his hands, he held what looked like a long straight piece of metal.

“It won’t be back. Now, get out of there and let me get you inside before you cost me any more bullets.”

The man talked funny, and she had trouble making out the words. What are bullets? She shouldn’t disobey him, especially if he’d scared off the razor-cat. With as much calm as she could muster, Lexi walked out of the narrow space in the rocks.

When the strange man approached her, she saw that the dark circles were something he wore, not his eyes. White cloth covered the rest of his face, hiding every feature.

“Now”, he said, “where in this blasted desert did you come from?” The voice sounded almost like a growl, and he said all his words funny.

“Clan-hold 47,” Lexi said. The name made a lump rise in her throat, the home she could never return to.

“You alone?”

Lexi nodded.

“What in the name of—” He peered over her shoulder. “Blast! We need to get to the habitat.”

She followed his gaze and saw the black leaves of a nearby scrub-tree retracting into their pockets in the gnarled wood. The bad spirits are coming.

“Get moving, Girl!” His voice boomed, and Lexi jumped.

He led her up what could almost be called a path among the rocks. Everything around them had turned dormant, no leaves exposed on the scrub-trees or the spike-bushes, no animals skittering through the sand and rock–nothing but her and the strange man. The plants and animals knew when the bad spirits would come. She didn’t know what this habitat was but she prayed it would keep her soul safe from harvesting.

They climbed to a level place in the rocks, and she saw the monster. It squatted there on four stubby legs like some sort of giant metal animal, with a pair of huge folded-up wings. Four big hoops with thick blades inside were also tucked against its flanks. In the front of the–she couldn’t find any word better than thing–windows let her see what looked like seats inside it.

The strange man yelled at her. “Get over here!”

Lexi tore her gaze from the squatting metal monster and hurried to obey. She needed to keep her discipline no matter what strange things might be about.

“The transport could shelter us, but this is a lot more comfortable.” The man stood next to a door in the rocks. He pulled on a big lever to release it, exactly how a door on the clan-hold worked. Once they hurried inside, he pulled the door shut and slammed another lever to seal it.

Lexi gasped–a clan-hold! They stood five levels up on a walkway that circled the open space in the gigantic round shaft. Many doors lined the curving walls, each one a dwelling just like the one her family lived in back in clan-hold 47. She let out a sigh of relief; they would be safe from the bad spirits here.

Orange light poured down from the transparent roof six more levels up. A complex of mirrors and strange structures at the top made the inside brighter than the outdoors. At the bottom, the light illuminated only bare dirt and the shriveled husks of plants long dead. Her home had a garden there where her people grew most of their food. How do the people here eat? Where are they? She wanted to ask the man, but that wasn’t her place.

“Looks familiar doesn’t it,” the strange man said.

It wasn’t a question from the way he said it, so Lexi didn’t answer. She braved a glance, and saw he had taken off the dark circles and unveiled his broad face. He had wild, pale hair, large blue eyes, and an unkempt beard of gray.

He still frightened her, especially with the pale, almost white skin. Lexi’s skin was light in color, like the sand, but even hers looked dark compared to his. She took a step back and lowered her eyes.

“Quiet thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled, a low rumble that Lexi could feel in her bones. “Don’t worry; Old Tom Gault isn’t going to hurt you.”

She stayed still and didn’t speak, her gaze fixed toward his feet.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you have a tongue?” His voice turned harsh and irritated.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked.

He pointed to something near the tunnel, a big number 39. Lexi knew her numbers even if she didn’t know letters.

“Your home has a 47 there doesn’t it?”

Lexi nodded.

“It’s called a habitat, not a clan-hold.” He sighed. “C’mon let Tom get you some water.”

Questions swirled in her mind like sand in a storm. Where are the people? What is that metal monster outside the door? How did he scare off the razor-cat? But he hadn’t given her leave to voice them, so she kept her mouth shut–discipline.

They took a stairway to the lowest level, and he opened one of the many doors to enter a dwelling. It reminded Lexi of her own home, only larger–something a clan leader would live in. She put a hand to a white wall and felt the same slick smoothness she was used to.

An opening led to a kitchen, and she saw several doors that must lead to bedrooms. Inside the big central room, she only saw furniture made up of metal and the same material as the walls. She preferred scrub-wood chairs with cushions made by clan craftsmen; they felt more comfortable than the hard furnishings Old Tom had. Illumination came from light-shafts in the ceiling, the light from the sun somehow carried from the top of the habitat.

Unsure what to do, Lexi sat in one of the hard chairs and folded her hands in her lap. Old Tom busied himself in the kitchen and brought out two cups of water. He gave one to her, and also sat.

He took a long sip, and Lexi did the same. The water felt cool in her mouth and stung her dried lips.

“Old Tom spotted your sail while working on the transport outside. Now tell him where you came from?”

She had to concentrate to understand him, he spoke her language but he pronounced things oddly and sometimes used words she didn’t know. Transport?

“My clan- habitat, number 47.”

“Is it close by, can you get back?”

“No, it’s not close and they won’t take me back.”

Tom frowned. “So, they tossed you out, huh? Why did they do that?”

An order, she had to answer though she didn’t want to. What if he tosses me out too? “I’m a third-born daughter and my father didn’t pay my keep-price.” She didn’t mention being a product of adultery–the answer was still true.

“Old Tom comes from far away and doesn’t know about your people’s customs. You’re going to have to explain better than that.”

Now Lexi burned with curiosity–where did this strange man come from—but she didn’t dare ask him. She tried her best to explain. “I’m the third daughter born to my mother, and only two are allowed by clan law. If the keep price isn’t paid, then the unlawful girl must be turned out when she comes of age unless an older sister is barren or died before having daughters. Daughters make more babies and there is only so much food.”

Tom laughed a great rumbling laugh that echoed off the smooth walls like thunder. When he stopped, he had to wipe away tears. Lexi didn’t understand what could be so funny about her fate.

Finally, he regained his composure. “I’ve read about your people. A very long time ago a bunch of folks thought they would go live in the desert. Back then, the machines that built these habitats were still working, you see; so when the population got too big they would just have the machines build a new one. Each habitat would be a collective where they shared everything.” He rolled his eyes. “No money they thought, only kindness and sharing. Worked great when they could mooch off the labor of the machines, but the machines stopped working like they did everywhere else. Now they’re turning out children to the desert to die.”

I’m a woman now, not a child. At home, her father would be picking out a husband for her among the men willing to pay him a marriage gift.

“Look at this place, they must’ve run out of power-cores and had to leave. Old Tom can see they tried to dig new wells, but the water’s too deep and without power they couldn’t get to it. Probably all left and died from a solar storm like the one hitting us now.”

Lexi barely understood anything he said, her mind felt lost in the open desert.

“I used the transport’s power-core to fire up the old pumps, so Old Tom has water to spare, but my provisions won’t last forever. You can stay if you can manage to get something to eat out of those plants out there.”

He paused and regarded her. “You got a name?”

“Lexi. And I can make food from the scrub-tree leaves and spike-bush stems, Old Tom… Sir.”

A smile formed under the bristles of his beard. “Welcome to your new home, Lexi.”

She kept his dwelling clean, and made what meals she could from the sparse desert plants. Despite his words, Old Tom did share some of his provisions, the food bland but quite edible. Eventually, Tom had her scouring the habitat along with him to find old wires and little boxes filled with strange innards. Almost all he discarded, but a few he kept for working on the metal monster he called a transport. He wasn’t nice exactly–he’d get cross with her, growl, and tell her to go away sometimes–but he didn’t get angry like her father did, just grumpy. All in all, she decided she liked Old Tom.

One time they spotted the freshly eaten carcass of a sand-lizard, and Tom taught Lexi how to use the metal stick he called a rifle. From that time after, she carried it with her when she went outside to harvest food. She found herself having to stray further and further to find good plants. They may have water enough, but food would eventually be a problem. Lexi didn’t have seeds to start a new garden in the habitat.

On one of her forays, she spotted a wall of muddy red far away on the horizon. Another sandstorm, a big one. That’s when the sound hit her, like someone smashing the sky with a hammer: thump, thump, thump.

She spied the source in the sky–the metal monster had taken flight. The thing that Old Tom called the transport hovered over their home. Huge wings had extended from its sides, but they didn’t flap at all. She saw the four hoops making little motions like some creature adjusting its limbs, the blades inside the rings spun so fast they had become blurs.

The transport climbed up high, swooping around the orange spires of the rock formations. Lexi could do nothing but watch, entranced by the monster, the brutal sound at odds with the graceful movements. Eventually, it lowered itself back to its original resting place.

When she returned, Lexi found Old Tom chuckling to himself and loading provisions along with bottles of water into the thing’s belly.

“About time you got back. Old Tom got the transport working again. Nobody thought he could get it working the first time. Now he’s repaired it twice.”

She went about helping him carry his supplies from the habitat to the transport. To her eyes, the inside of the thing–she never had permission to enter it before–appeared as nothing more than a cramped dwelling.

“Old Tom wants to leave before the storm gets here,” he said after the last load. “Blasted things can last a long time and he’s an old man with little patience.”

Lexi stood at the door of the monster’s belly and faced him, eyes lowered. She shouldn’t ask him, she really shouldn’t, but she didn’t want to be left alone. She raised her head to peer at the dark circles he always wore over his eyes when going outside.

“My father turned me out, so I figure there’s no need for a marriage gift for me,” she tried to make it sound like an offhand remark, but she knew Old Tom would be too clever. Girls were married off to men even older than him sometimes, and he was a good man.

He laughed one of his big, deep laughs, though the wind whipped away its power. “Old Tom’s already had two wives and isn’t looking for another. He’s never had a daughter though; he’d be willing to have one of those.”

She smiled back at him, feeling warmer and happier than she had… ever.

“Now let’s get out of here before that blasted storm hits.” Old Tom shut the door behind her. He hurried to the forward cabin and Lexi followed.

“Don’t touch anything,” he said in a stern voice. She folded her hands in her lap.

The whole monster vibrated as Tom pressed some numbers that appeared as lights on a panel. More lights appeared on the windows in front of them, numbers, symbols, and lines that meant nothing to her. The sound of hammering air encompassed them like a noisy blanket. It made her feel foolish, but she couldn’t stop grinning as she watched the ground fall away.

“We have to fly low, the wind currents are too strong up high,” Old Tom told her. They skimmed above the desert much swifter than any skiff, kicking sand off the top of the dunes.

Every so often, they would land so Old Tom could rest. With every stop, the sun sank closer to the horizon. She’d never in her whole life seen the sun move from its spot in the sky, so she risked asking why. Her newly adopted father didn’t seem to mind questions so much.

He pulled out a square of paper and made a drawing of two circles far away from each other: one big, one little. “This isn’t to scale, but it’ll give you the idea. Now, pretend this circle,” he pointed to the little one, “is the sun. The big one is the planet where we live. One side of the planet is always facing the sun and one isn’t. As you move away from the side facing the sun,” he drew lines from points on the big circle to the little circle, “it changes the angle you see it at. We’re moving toward the dark side, so it looks like the sun is getting even lower.”

Lexi thought she understood. However, the idea that they would go someplace the sun never appeared sounded in equal measures thrilling and terrifying.

More than the sun changed, they made a long trip over open water where they couldn’t rest. Here, the wind tossed the metal monster about and the water below moved in huge choppy waves.

“The smooth ride is over,” Tom said, “your home is in a calm zone, like a lazy stretch in a fast moving river. This is normal.”

She’d never seen a river, but Lexi got the idea.

When they reached land again, the world under them changed. Black-leafed plants stretched out as far as Lexi could see. These were nothing like scrub-trees and spike-bushes; they stood tall and very thick, bent to face the sun hanging low on the horizon.

“Don’t go outside,” Old Tom said when they landed for a rest. “There are creatures out there far more dangerous than anything from the desert.”

“Is this where your people live?” Lexi asked.

He chuckled. “No. Maybe if we had this kind of technology,” he patted the wall of the machine’s belly, “but rifles aren’t enough to conquer the Twilight Lands. The creatures that live here don’t take to squatters, and that’s what we all are. We came from the sky a very long time ago. But that wasn’t your question, was it? Old Tom and his people live on the night side.”

As the metal monster rocked in the wind, Lexi peered outside. She saw only fleeting glances of small creatures darting among the black vines that covered the ground. What could be worse than razor-cats?

When they took off again, Lexi saw the sky turn dark and flashes of light ripped through roiling masses of clouds. Water streaked on the windows.

“That’s one hell of a storm, isn’t it, Lexi?”

She nodded, transfixed by the sight.

“We’ll have to ride it. The winds up high are too strong to fly over it, and a man will grow old and die waiting for clear skies out here. Old Tom made it through chasing the sun; he reckons he can do the same running from it.”

Rain lashed against the outside, and sheets of water whipped over the windows blotting out the world. The metal monster bucked and vibrated, making Lexi want to find a clan-hold tunnel to hide from the chaos. Maybe I should have stayed behind.

The machine dropped and Lexi felt her stomach try to push into her chest. A bright flash of light lit the windows and the boom that followed sounded like the sky being torn apart.

“Close one,” Old Tom said, barely audible through her ringing ears. “Hold on, Lexi.”

The wind tossed them about the sky worse than ever. Her shoulders beat painfully against the straps that held her to her chair and she lost her stomach, leaving her mouth and throat stinging. Lexi closed her eyes and prayed to the sky spirits.

A sound hit her with so much power that her whole body reverberated. They bucked and tilted as if the metal monster had been dealt a physical blow. She risked opening her eyes and saw the lights in the window had changed, a picture of their monster rotated in front of Old Tom, parts of it colored in red like bleeding wounds.

“Got hit by lightning,” he shouted. “I’m picking up a beacon, maybe we can set down for repairs.” She could see the fear on his face, something she’d never seen before.

Lexi closed her eyes again and hugged herself tight as the bucking and vibrations worsened. The chaos seemed to go on forever.

“Dammit!” She heard Old Tom yell. The monster tumbled and shrieked as hard jolts pummeled her. She heard ripping sounds and something pounded her hard in the back of her head.

Chapter 3: The Outpost

“I think she’s coming around,” a soft voice said with the same funny way of saying words as Old Tom.

Lexi opened her eyes and winced at the light. Her head hurt and she felt sore all over. A woman came into focus. Sheets of dark hair fell from either side of the almost white face.

“It’s about time,” a gruff male voice said. She saw a man’s face appear. His coloring matched the woman, but he had short, blond hair and a scruffy beard.

Lexi sat up from the bench she’d been resting on. Her surroundings made her think she lay in the belly of another metal monster. This one was more crowded and cluttered, and it smelled different too, stuffy and sweaty. Chests, canned provisions, and many other strange things filled the space, barely leaving room to move.

“Scoot over, Maggie. I want to talk to her,” the man said.

Maggie didn’t budge. “Give her some time, Adam.”

“What happened to Tom?” Lexi asked.

“If you mean the old guy, he’s dead,” another male voice said.

Dead? Tears burned at Lexi’s eyes, but she blinked them back and tried to show discipline in front of the strangers.

Adam turned toward the new voice. “Hey, Devon, you don’t suppose that’s Tom Gault, do you?”

Lexi caught sight of the other man now. He had a clean-shaven face just as pale as the others. His wavy, black hair was neatly parted in the middle and he wore a light shirt with buttons down the front, the top couple undone.

Devon furrowed his brow. “Who is Tom Gault?”

“He’s that rich guy who they say actually got an ancient transport working and flew off toward the day-side. It has to be him, probably tried to home in on the same beacon we did,” Adam said.

Devon shrugged. “That transport sure as hell won’t be working again. Still, damn good luck picking up his distress signal. The power-core from that bird still has half its energy, that’ll pay for this expedition.” He nodded toward Lexi. “And we got her too, never seen anything like that skin before; she must be a day-sider. Exotic, young, and pretty; we’ll get something for her.”

Lexi peered at their pale faces in turn, confused. “A marriage price?”

“Sure, that’s right, Sweetheart, a marriage price.” Devon laughed. “She’s got one hell of an accent, doesn’t she?” He turned toward Adam and the laughter died. “Get the crawler back to the outpost. I’m not ready to give up on that place.”

Adam slipped through a narrow passage and disappeared from sight while Devon came over to Lexi. He leaned down and smiled.

“What’s your name, Sweetheart?”

Something in his eyes made her nervous, but these people had saved her and she should be respectful.

“Lexi,” she said softly.

With a groan, the whole room shuddered and started to vibrate.

“Well, Lexi,” Devon said, ignoring the commotion. “We’ve some work to do before going home. Once we get there, I know a nice man we can… marry you to. Understand?”

She nodded.

“Good.”

Devon turned toward Maggie as a hard jolt made them all sway. “She’s a mess, get her cleaned up. I’m going to make sure Adam doesn’t wreck this bucket.”

Halfway into the slim exit, he turned to Maggie again. “Find out if the merchandise has been sampled.” He disappeared, leaving Lexi alone with the other woman.

Lexi watched Maggie go fetch some water and a towel. She felt more comfortable being with her than the men, but she missed Old Tom. This time she couldn’t hold back the tears, and she felt them streaking down her cheeks. The judgment of the clan leaders had taken away her true father and mother further back than her memory could go. Now the sky spirits had taken Old Tom away from her too. What have I done to make the spirits hate me?

“What’s wrong Lexi?”

“It’s Old Tom, I liked him.” She realized what she had said, and quickly added, “Not that I dislike you and the men.” The truth was that she didn’t especially like any of them, but to say so would be disrespectful.

Maggie wiped at her face and arms. “Where do you come from?”

“Clan-hold 47.”

“What’s that?”

“A habitat in the desert,” she used Old Tom’s description, and it made her cry even more.

“Did you have a man back there?” Maggie finished cleaning, and Lexi watched her rummage through a trunk.

She finally managed to stem the tears and wiped her nose with her arm. “Like a husband?”

“Sure, or a lover.” Maggie brought over some clothing.

“No.” She didn’t want to explain being a third-born daughter. Maybe they wouldn’t let me have a husband if they knew.

“Let’s get you changed,” Maggie said.

Lexi took a nervous glance toward the narrow passage. “What–”

“They won’t come back here until we stop.”

The other woman helped her undress, taking off the stained and torn travel robes. “I think we may just throw these away,” Maggie said.

Naked and cold, Lexi quickly sorted through the strange new clothes. Maggie pulled an article from the pile. “Start with these.”

“Have you–” Maggie’s question died when Lexi turned her back to don the undergarments. She felt a cool fingertip trace a line down her back.

“Where did you get these scars?” The other woman’s words came soft and slow.

Lexi felt her face heat, and wanted to lie, but that would be wrong. “From my father’s lashings.”

“Oh.” The other woman paused for a long moment. Maggie helped her finish dressing: a skirt, a blouse, and a sturdy vest with two columns of buttons running down the front. Then, she looked into Lexi’s eyes intently.

She spoke in a whisper and Lexi had to listen very hard to understand. “Devon isn’t going to find a man to marry you; he’s going to sell you to… some bad men. But don’t you worry about that, I’ll help you get away before he can.”

More than the words, the expression on Maggie’s face scared her. How bad were these men? Lexi nodded.

“Don’t try to run away until I help you. It’s very dangerous out here and there’s nowhere to go. Once we get back home I know people who can help you.”

“They’ll keep me away from these bad men?”

“Yes, they will.” Maggie put her hands on Lexi’s shoulders and glanced toward the passage the men had disappeared into. She talked in a low conspiring whisper. “It’s important you let me help you, there aren’t many people who can be trusted where we come from. Do you understand?”

Lexi nodded. She didn’t like the sound of these people’s home, but Maggie would help her. Devon had already tricked her, and she felt sure Maggie wouldn’t need to do it too.

“Good.”

After much bouncing and jostling, they came to a stop and the men returned. Devon turned to stare at Lexi and she lowered her eyes reflexively.

“She cleans up real nice,” Devon said. “Get us something to eat, Maggie.”

“Get it yourself,” she shot back.

Devon shrugged, and then smiled. “Always worth a try.”

He took a step toward the back of the small chamber, but stopped and turned to Lexi. “You go take care of it, Sweetheart.”

Lexi fell into the chore almost by reflex. Their provisions appeared the same as Old Tom’s and, after a little hunting, she had a meal for each of them and cups of water.

“Thank you,” Maggie said when Lexi handed her a plate. The two men said nothing.

“What’s the plan? We’ve been in that ancient outpost once, nothing’s there,” Adam said over the clinks of metal utensils.

“Something is keeping that beacon going,” Devon said. “We’ll be sitting pretty if we can get another power-core. That’ll be two and the… marriage price. Hey, Maggie, you find out what I wanted to know?”

“She’s never,” Maggie replied.

“I’m kind of disappointed; I wouldn’t mind having a sample myself.” He gave Lexi a hungry smile. “But it’ll mean a bigger price, maybe a lot bigger.”

Devon’s expression made Lexi’s stomach churn, but she kept the feeling out of her face. She gave him a small smile in return—no less deceptive than the ones she gave her father while her insides quaked with fear. Nobody knew better than her how to remain respectful no matter what emotions roiled under the surface.

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “Selling power-cores is one thing, but…”

Devon turned on him. “What do you think will happen if we just turn her loose, Adam? You think a wild day-sider like her is going to end up working in a damn factory?” He laughed. “We’ll make some money and she’ll go high class, maybe some high-flier will want to keep her and she’ll live better than you or your sister,” he glanced at Maggie, “can dream of.”

“I guess you’re right, Devon,” Adam said.

“I’m always right.” He turned to Lexi and held out his empty plate. “Clean up, Sweetheart.”

Without hesitation, she got to work collecting the plates and cups. But being ordered to do chores felt different somehow, no longer comforting. Old Tom had told her to do things, but she never felt it had been under threat of punishment. She felt a threat in Devon’s tone she didn’t like. Lexi pushed back the rebellious thoughts; she had to keep her discipline.

Devon and the others got out a pair of lanterns and pulled out a rifle and some smaller guns from a chest. She spied Old Tom’s weapon before they closed it, and a lump formed in her throat at the reminder.

“You take the rifle, Adam,” Devon commanded. He handed one of the smaller guns to Maggie. “Take a revolver. Keep sharp, there are nasty beasties out there.”

“Sweetheart, you’re coming too, take this.” Devon held out a lantern for her.

She hurried over and took hold of the handle. “Good girl.”

Adam handled the door and they rushed out into the pounding rain and shrieking wind. Lexi dared a look back as she ran with the others. It was another metal monster, only bigger and lumpier than Old Tom’s flying one.

They hurried into a door hidden by plants. Once again, Adam opened the door and closed it after they went through. Maggie helped to light Lexi’s lantern to reveal a round corridor with the same smooth, white surface that Lexi remembered from her home.

“Let’s go,” Devon said.

The corridor went on for a long time before spilling out into an open space. Lexi’s lantern fought against the darkness, but it gobbled up the light before the flickering illumination could reach the walls.

“Where to?” Maggie asked. “We’ve been all over this place.”

“Yeah, well that beacon means we missed something. If Adam hadn’t picked up that distress signal from the transport, we would’ve stayed until we found it,” Devon said. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go back to the upper level.”

He led the way with Lexi next to him to provide light. They came to a set of metal stairs and climbed. Lexi’s sandals made little noise but the others wore heavy boots and clanked as they walked. A distant noise came from behind her–something thudding against something else. The others didn’t seem to notice; maybe they didn’t hear it. More likely, they know it’s nothing to worry about; they’re clever people and wouldn’t want me bothering them. She stayed disciplined and kept quiet.

An opening to another white corridor was near the top of the stairs, and Devon directed them into it.

“Shouldn’t we try someplace new?” Adam asked.

“I have a theory,” Devon said.

Up ahead, Lexi saw a dim light. Her heart trembled as she imagined what might be waiting for them. The lantern in her hand stayed steady despite her fear; she’d been given a chore.

When they reached the end, she saw the light came from little dimly glowing glass panels near the top of the wall. Not counting the hall they exited, two corridors led away from the empty room. The chamber appeared to measure about the same as a dwelling’s living space, but there were no furnishings of any kind. Lexi didn’t like it, why would nobody be living in a shelter like this with the rains providing so much water?

“Where to, esteemed leader?” Maggie asked. Lexi caught the disrespectful tone in the woman’s voice. She had used that tone once with her father, and he had made her pay dearly for it. Any man in her clan-hold would be furious if a woman addressed him like that.

To Lexi’s amazement, Devon didn’t react. Instead, he pointed to a small opening near the top of a wall. “There’s some light coming from that, so there has to be something in there.”

Lexi saw Adam give her a sidelong glance. “You’re thinking the day-sider is skinny enough to fit?”

“See,” Devon said, “you’re not as stupid as you look.”

He turned to Lexi, “Put down the lantern, Sweetheart, you’re going to do something for me.”

She did as he said, and he took out a piece of paper from a pocket. “You’re looking for a round door about this big,” he made a circle with his hands, “and colored red with this,” he pointed to the symbol on the paper, “on it. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Good girl.” He turned to Adam. “Help me get her up there.”

Lexi moved over to the wall and peered up at the dim light coming from the small hole. The thought of squeezing into a small space didn’t seem so bad–no worse than a hiding spot–but, this looked really narrow. She jumped when Devon came up behind her and placed his hands on her waist. “Up you go.”

The two men gave her a boost. One of them ran a hand under her skirt as he gave her a foothold.

“Look at those legs,” Devon said. “If she gets the power-core for us, I might be willing to take a hit on our profits.”

Lexi scrambled into the opening, just managing to fit through. A narrow shaft let away, thankfully lit by dim lights.

“Maggie, stay here with the girl.” She heard Devon command from behind her, his voice sounding faint. “Adam and I might as well check out the rest of this level while she’s in there.”

“Hey, what was that sound?” Adam asked.

“It was nothing. What? Are you afraid of ghosts now?” Devon replied.

Lexi heard a bang on the wall behind her. “Hey Sweetheart, we don’t have forever here. Get crawling.”

She turned her attention ahead and saw that the shaft opened into something a good distance away. The passage squeezed around her too tight to crawl, so she wriggled forward like a snake.

It opened into a very small room, not even tall enough to stand in. Wires, cables, and lights covered the walls. Old Tom would have liked this room. No, she shouldn’t think about him, that would only make her sad and she had orders to follow. She needed to be disciplined and get her work done like Devon had told her to.

What would happen if I didn’t obey him? The thought tantalized her, a little thrill traveling up her spine. No, there was something about Devon that reminded her of her father; he’d make her pay. Maggie will help me run away and I’ll never have to worry about my father or Devon again; she’s not afraid of him.

Lexi hunted around the little space and spotted it, a round red door with the symbols Devon had showed her. Excited by her find, she struggled to turn around, she needed to go back and tell them. Her knee banged into something followed by a hiss. The red door had opened, and she saw a handle behind it.

Biting her lip, she tried to decide what to do. She felt sure they’d want the thing with the handle, and she didn’t like the idea of wriggling back again. With a hard yank, the object came free and the lights blinked off.

“What happened?” She heard Maggie’s voice travel down the shaft.

“I’m coming back!” Lexi yelled.

In the darkness, she examined the object she’d pulled out. It felt like a cold, hard cylinder about the length of her forearm, but twice as thick. She pushed the heavy thing in front of her as she wriggled through the narrow way toward the flickering light of the lantern.

Halfway there, she heard a scream followed by two sharp cracks. Gun shots. The sounds were followed by thumps, one more scream, and ripping noises. In the distance, she heard a man yelling Maggie’s name.

Lexi stayed frozen in the tight space, trying not to breathe. Something bad is happening and Maggie is in trouble. She gathered her courage and struggled forward as quickly as she could; Maggie might need help.

Another crack echoed; this one further away. A man screamed.

This time Lexi didn’t stop. She pushed the heavy object ahead of her until she reached the end. Now she had a problem; there wasn’t enough space to move herself past the cylinder, but she didn’t want to drop it to the floor and make a loud noise. She took a strong grip on the handle and scooted forward, holding onto the cylinder as she pushed it out the opening.

The weight hurt her arm but she managed to get far enough forward to see into the room. Near the opening, the lantern still flickered where Lexi had set it on the floor. In the dim light, she saw fresh, red blood glistening. She pushed out a little further and the sight made her gasp. What used to be Maggie lay in a heap of mangled clothing and shredded flesh. Startled, she slipped and the heavy cylinder pulled her down.

Bang! The object slammed into the floor below, followed by Lexi. For a moment, the room swayed as she recovered from the impact.

Rapid, padding steps came from one of the hallways leading away from the room. The pain in her shoulders and head vanished, driven out by her thumping heart. She sprang to her feet and snatched the lantern before sprinting to the passage that led to the stairs.

At the end of the corridor, she turned back to see sleek muscle, fangs, and eyes that glowed in the flame’s light. Lexi hurled the lantern to the floor of the passage with all her strength. Oil and fire burst out from the impact to fill the narrow space. Without looking back, she pelted down the stairway to the big open room, the way lit by the fire above. Errant flames had caught her skirt and she ripped it off when she reached the bottom of the stairs. More loud cracks echoed from behind her, but she ignored it.

Lexi surveyed the dark space and saw a pale circle of light in the distance. The door we came in from. It’s open.

She rushed toward the light, able to run easier with the skirt gone. In a blind panic, she sprinted down the round corridor toward the sound of the storm outside. The smell of wet air filled her senses as she sucked down breath.

Rain slashed down from the sky as she burst into the outdoors. The dim outline of the great metal machine loomed in the damp gloom, and Lexi surged forward on a last burst of adrenaline. She threw the levers of the door and clamored inside before quickly securing it again. Though she wanted nothing more than to collapse in relief, her mind hadn’t stopped working. Adam closed the door when we went in there. That thing figured out how to open it.

Lexi threw open the chest that she had seen Old Tom’s rifle in. She worked herself as far back from the door as she could and still have a good line of sight. Old Tom’s instructions came back to her crystal clear, and she worked the bolt to make sure she had a bullet loaded. With her gaze locked to the door, she raised the rifle to her shoulder and waited. Time passed, but Lexi stayed still as a stone.

Clang. Something worked the levers and the door opened, letting in a sheet of rain. The wet figure of Devon appeared, holding a revolver in one hand and lugging the cylinder Lexi retrieved in the other. He dropped the heavy object with a thud, and shut the door.

When he turned, he jumped before laughing. “You gave me a fright there, Sweetheart. Nice job with the lantern, you distracted that thing long enough for me to get a good shot. Hell, I never thought some animal could figure out how to get in. I’ll be glad to get out of this place.”

He leaned back against the door. “Too bad about Maggie and Adam, but I suppose I won’t have to split the profits now. Always a silver lining, right?” He chuckled and grinned. The words bit hard at her, there was nobody left to help her, not her true uncle, not Old Tom, and now not Maggie.

“Hey, Sweetheart, didn’t you hear me. That thing’s dead; stop pointing that rifle at me and–”

Lexi squeezed the trigger, just like Old Tom had taught her.

# # # #

Thank you for reading my little tale. This story is from a novel idea I had and parts may appear in my next book project, The Shore of Night.

If you would like to know more about my writing projects, check out my blog at: http://www.iplayawriter.com