Eventually, the heat map gives me a small house set on the edge of some trees surrounding a grassy clearing. Old vehicles of different millennia are parked, ships and various hovercraft strewn neatly. I’m surprised that woman didn’t drag the old Amerov ship over here.
I’m hesitant to land, but there’s not much suspicious about the place. In fact, it looks pretty homey. No alarming heat signatures appear on the map. It picks up the forms of what I realize momentarily to be breeds of dogs I’ve never seen, both inside the house and roaming the grasses, barking at our hovering vessel. The map of the planet shows there aren’t settlements near here. If there are other people around, they’re probably individual homes like this one.
“Looks…innocent,” Lalia hedges. Her arms are folded around her. After a moment, Yvonne gives her a hug. I’m relieved—I don’t feel up to comforting anyone, I’m too anxious myself.
Bat joins us. “I don’t like dogs.”
“You’ve never met a dog.”
“I don’t like them on principle.”
If I hadn’t tested his DNA after I found him, I’d believe him more cat than a badger. “You can sit on my head. The dogs won’t get you.”
I’m about to wonder aloud if the woman has made it back when I see her zip out of the trees on a little hover bike of sorts. I watch her park it next to her house, all her dogs swarming to her and continuing to bark. She waves at us.
“Anything seem fishy to anyone else?” I ask.
“No more than usual.”
I grind my teeth, looking out the viewport. There’s nothing on the heat map indicating anything remotely dangerous—though heat maps don’t help with ForceZero, there’s not a single reason why one of them would be here—so I settle the ship ever so gently into the grass. Not too near the house. When nothing odd happens, I sigh.
“I’ll come with you again,” Yvonne says.
“I’d rather you didn’t. You’re human and princess of the galaxy. Bad idea.”
“Yeah, well, I think you freak her out. I’m harmless and we want her to like us.”
She has a point there, but I ask, “Harmless?”
Anya giggles and says, “Only as far as that lady knows.”
Yvonne winks at me. I look out the viewport so I don’t have to respond. The woman is standing on her wrap-around porch, hands in her pockets, rifle untouched, watching us and waiting.
“You want me to go instead?” Lalia asks, shifting from foot to foot.
“Neither of you are great options. I guess Princess is right, the lady knows her and thinks she’s friendly. The rest of you stay in here. Bat, you too.”
“Can I watch from the top of the ship in case I need to shoot her?”
I force myself not to sigh—I really hope it doesn’t come to that. “Sure. But don’t get trigger-happy, please. She seems to be a nice lady.”
Bat trots off happily to the top hatch in the hull. I have all my weapons tucked away other than the big gun, which I won’t be dragging out and scaring the poor lady with, so I cycle out the airlock, jumpy about every unfamiliar noise. Gentle wind rustles in the grasses, the trees shifting into one another. Bugs buzz in the air. A small, yellow dog yips at me from right under the airlock.
“He’s friendly!” the woman calls.
Dropping to the grass, I scratch the dog on its head while it comes unglued with joy, wriggling and nearly falling over. Yvonne crawls down next to me, cooing at the dog, instant best friends. Anya, much to my annoyance, drops down behind us to cuddle the happy animal. Well, as long as she stays here.
I wander toward the house, checking back to ensure the youngest princess stays put. I still haven’t counted out the idea of someone showing up to give us hell, though there’s a certain comfort in the fact we managed to take out a few ForceZero numbers. A handful of human authorities on a small, out-of-the-way planet shouldn’t be too bad if everything does go to hell.
It’s so peaceful I want to relax. The combination of all our bounties is too much to actually do so.
“I’m not going to ambush you or anything.” There’s amusement in the woman’s voice.
“I know,” I lie.
She chuckles. “You look about as comfortable as walking over thorns.”
“That’s just how he looks,” Yvonne says, but she’s about as nervous as I’ve ever seen her, and it doesn’t sound much like an insult. She loops her arm through mine. “We’ve had a really rough month.”
“So I can see. Come on in. Don’t suppose I can bribe you for the details of what’s going on here.”
I manage not to make too ugly a face. “You’re the second person in the last two days to want a story out of me. The first ended with us needing these medical supplies.”
Her eyebrow raises, but she has a pleasant enough way about her its concerned rather than judgmental. “Fair enough. Come on in. I um…there’s someone here who lives with me. He’s harmless, and he probably won’t talk to you. I just don’t want you having a heart attack when you see him.”
That’s quite enough to give me pause, staying perfectly still even when Yvonne takes a step forward and is foiled by her arm woven through mine. Though it hurts my temple, I narrow my eyes.
“He’s harmless, I promise,” the woman reiterates.
Right, and I’m pleasant to be around. This guy must be the other heat signature I saw in the house. I thought it was another dog. The maps on the ships aren’t very accurate at that distance, it was difficult to tell the size.
“Okay?” Yvonne asks, low enough the woman might not hear.
“Who knows,” I mutter back, but step toward the house. She doesn’t take her arm out of mine. I don’t bother pulling away. She’s nervous, and it’s fairly obvious I am as well. If she wants to, it’s not worth arguing with her about. Anyway, it seems to make the woman less suspicious of me in particular. I can imagine having a rather unsuspecting human trust the scary cyborg makes me look less like I’m going to rob and murder her.
I wonder how much people out here know about unregistered numbers. People on Yayth certainly knew enough. Enough to be terrified when they caught sight of me. We’ve already passed that hurdle though.
The steps to the porch creek. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a cute little cabin. Very old-fashioned. The woman left the door open. Though the house seems at least a few decades old, it still smells pleasantly of forest inside. A living room has an unlit fireplace on one side—it’s still much too warm for that sort of thing—and a broad window beside the door looking out at the grasslands and forests beyond. To my right, there’s a kitchen of about half the size and a few rooms in the back of the house. It’s small but homey and pleasant. Other than the dogs who’ve taken to worming their way around us, licking at my hands, there’s no one else here.
“There are more supplies in the cellar,” the woman says, setting her rifle down pointedly and rummaging in a decorative cabinet along the opposite wall stacked with a few small bins. “I mean it when I say I have a lot. It won’t be much to replace, so let me know how much you need. I can take a look at whoever’s hurt if you need. I’m not a doctor, but I know my way around injuries.”
I’m vaguely listening. In one of the reclining chairs near the fireplace, pointed at the large window, a man is sleeping. At least, he looks to be sleeping, hands tucked comfortably over his chest, wearing sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, no shoes. His breathing is so shallow I almost don’t notice it for a moment. It wouldn’t be so unusual if it weren’t for the rather obvious scaring along his jaw and the hints of metal where it didn’t quite heal right. Lots of people have small augmentations and prosthetics.
Only certain people have metal in their bone structure.
Eventually, the heat map gives me a small house set on the edge of some trees surrounding a grassy clearing. Old vehicles of different millennia are parked, ships and various hovercraft strewn neatly. I’m surprised that woman didn’t drag the old Amerov ship over here.
I’m hesitant to land, but there’s not much suspicious about the place. In fact, it looks pretty homey. No alarming heat signatures appear on the map. It picks up the forms of what I realize momentarily to be breeds of dogs I’ve never seen, both inside the house and roaming the grasses, barking at our hovering vessel. The map of the planet shows there aren’t settlements near here. If there are other people around, they’re probably individual homes like this one.
“Looks…innocent,” Lalia hedges. Her arms are folded around her. After a moment, Yvonne gives her a hug. I’m relieved—I don’t feel up to comforting anyone, I’m too anxious myself.
Bat joins us. “I don’t like dogs.”
“You’ve never met a dog.”
“I don’t like them on principle.”
If I hadn’t tested his DNA after I found him, I’d believe him more cat than a badger. “You can sit on my head. The dogs won’t get you.”
I’m about to wonder aloud if the woman has made it back when I see her zip out of the trees on a little hover bike of sorts. I watch her park it next to her house, all her dogs swarming to her and continuing to bark. She waves at us.
“Anything seem fishy to anyone else?” I ask.
“No more than usual.”
I grind my teeth, looking out the viewport. There’s nothing on the heat map indicating anything remotely dangerous—though heat maps don’t help with ForceZero, there’s not a single reason why one of them would be here—so I settle the ship ever so gently into the grass. Not too near the house. When nothing odd happens, I sigh.
“I’ll come with you again,” Yvonne says.
“I’d rather you didn’t. You’re human and princess of the galaxy. Bad idea.”
“Yeah, well, I think you freak her out. I’m harmless and we want her to like us.”
She has a point there, but I ask, “Harmless?”
Anya giggles and says, “Only as far as that lady knows.”
Yvonne winks at me. I look out the viewport so I don’t have to respond. The woman is standing on her wrap-around porch, hands in her pockets, rifle untouched, watching us and waiting.
“You want me to go instead?” Lalia asks, shifting from foot to foot.
“Neither of you are great options. I guess Princess is right, the lady knows her and thinks she’s friendly. The rest of you stay in here. Bat, you too.”
“Can I watch from the top of the ship in case I need to shoot her?”
I force myself not to sigh—I really hope it doesn’t come to that. “Sure. But don’t get trigger-happy, please. She seems to be a nice lady.”
Bat trots off happily to the top hatch in the hull. I have all my weapons tucked away other than the big gun, which I won’t be dragging out and scaring the poor lady with, so I cycle out the airlock, jumpy about every unfamiliar noise. Gentle wind rustles in the grasses, the trees shifting into one another. Bugs buzz in the air. A small, yellow dog yips at me from right under the airlock.
“He’s friendly!” the woman calls.
Dropping to the grass, I scratch the dog on its head while it comes unglued with joy, wriggling and nearly falling over. Yvonne crawls down next to me, cooing at the dog, instant best friends. Anya, much to my annoyance, drops down behind us to cuddle the happy animal. Well, as long as she stays here.
I wander toward the house, checking back to ensure the youngest princess stays put. I still haven’t counted out the idea of someone showing up to give us hell, though there’s a certain comfort in the fact we managed to take out a few ForceZero numbers. A handful of human authorities on a small, out-of-the-way planet shouldn’t be too bad if everything does go to hell.
It’s so peaceful I want to relax. The combination of all our bounties is too much to actually do so.
“I’m not going to ambush you or anything.” There’s amusement in the woman’s voice.
“I know,” I lie.
She chuckles. “You look about as comfortable as walking over thorns.”
“That’s just how he looks,” Yvonne says, but she’s about as nervous as I’ve ever seen her, and it doesn’t sound much like an insult. She loops her arm through mine. “We’ve had a really rough month.”
“So I can see. Come on in. Don’t suppose I can bribe you for the details of what’s going on here.”
I manage not to make too ugly a face. “You’re the second person in the last two days to want a story out of me. The first ended with us needing these medical supplies.”
Her eyebrow raises, but she has a pleasant enough way about her its concerned rather than judgmental. “Fair enough. Come on in. I um…there’s someone here who lives with me. He’s harmless, and he probably won’t talk to you. I just don’t want you having a heart attack when you see him.”
That’s quite enough to give me pause, staying perfectly still even when Yvonne takes a step forward and is foiled by her arm woven through mine. Though it hurts my temple, I narrow my eyes.
“He’s harmless, I promise,” the woman reiterates.
Right, and I’m pleasant to be around. This guy must be the other heat signature I saw in the house. I thought it was another dog. The maps on the ships aren’t very accurate at that distance, it was difficult to tell the size.
“Okay?” Yvonne asks, low enough the woman might not hear.
“Who knows,” I mutter back, but step toward the house. She doesn’t take her arm out of mine. I don’t bother pulling away. She’s nervous, and it’s fairly obvious I am as well. If she wants to, it’s not worth arguing with her about. Anyway, it seems to make the woman less suspicious of me in particular. I can imagine having a rather unsuspecting human trust the scary cyborg makes me look less like I’m going to rob and murder her.
I wonder how much people out here know about unregistered numbers. People on Yayth certainly knew enough. Enough to be terrified when they caught sight of me. We’ve already passed that hurdle though.
The steps to the porch creek. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a cute little cabin. Very old-fashioned. The woman left the door open. Though the house seems at least a few decades old, it still smells pleasantly of forest inside. A living room has an unlit fireplace on one side—it’s still much too warm for that sort of thing—and a broad window beside the door looking out at the grasslands and forests beyond. To my right, there’s a kitchen of about half the size and a few rooms in the back of the house. It’s small but homey and pleasant. Other than the dogs who’ve taken to worming their way around us, licking at my hands, there’s no one else here.
“There are more supplies in the cellar,” the woman says, setting her rifle down pointedly and rummaging in a decorative cabinet along the opposite wall stacked with a few small bins. “I mean it when I say I have a lot. It won’t be much to replace, so let me know how much you need. I can take a look at whoever’s hurt if you need. I’m not a doctor, but I know my way around injuries.”
I’m vaguely listening. In one of the reclining chairs near the fireplace, pointed at the large window, a man is sleeping. At least, he looks to be sleeping, hands tucked comfortably over his chest, wearing sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, no shoes. His breathing is so shallow I almost don’t notice it for a moment. It wouldn’t be so unusual if it weren’t for the rather obvious scaring along his jaw and the hints of metal where it didn’t quite heal right. Lots of people have small augmentations and prosthetics.
Only certain people have metal in their bone structure.
