Moonful of silver, p.16
Moonful of Silver, page 16
The vibration grew before it cut off, stopping nearby. An almost indiscernible rhythm of bounding steps drew closer. She reached out for Sanchez. For that fool of a kid. But it wasn’t Sanchez who grabbed her hand.
Esteban wore a gloating grin as he hauled her up and threw her over his shoulder. She was too weak to protest. Her heart pounded against her chest, demanding oxygen.
He tossed her into the vehicle. She nearly blacked out, but him sitting on top of her jolted her to consciousness. He fiddled with her collar. A click and a hiss and she gasped as air rushed in. The blackness didn’t dissipate right away but her lungs took it all in like a dried sponge.
Her chest heaved as her vision returned to its full scope. She blinked to reorient herself. Titanium walls pressed around her. A metallic scent mixed with a greasy, fetid one. The telltale smell of an armored hover.
Esteban removed her helmet and smiled down at her, condescension painted across his lips. “You didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did ya?”
Dread crashed against her chest, threatening to take away her air once more.
The vile man bent close as though to kiss her, his triumphant smile at odds with his rotten breath. “I know you’re a little oxygen deprived, but in case it wasn’t clear, your collar is programmed to stop working if you try to leave.”
“What!” She tried to sit up, but his weight kept her down. “I-I could’ve died!”
“Naw. You weren’t gonna die. I installed a tracker. I’m not a monster.”
When did he do this? How?
After Benito’s death, her sleep had been as deep as a tomb. She’d attributed it to fatigue. Her skin crawled at the thought of being unconscious under Esteban’s care. Who knew what he’d done to her while she was knocked out? As soon as she got back to her prison, she’d scrub as much of his filth off her as possible.
Esteban eventually dismounted, but not before fitting cuffs on her. Only after he returned her to the greenhouse did he remove them. She bore it all with detached resignation. It wasn’t until he left and locked her in that the tears came. Silent at first. Her jaw quivered and her cheeks grew wet. She unzipped her jacket, and something in the pocket knocked against her chest. She frowned and her hand froze over the source.
The small pot was now flat. With trembling hands, she eased it out. Her throat hardened. The flower was crushed.
Oh, Benito!
She collapsed to the floor and bawled.
LUNAR HQ
[Redacted]
It isn’t as bleak as all that. We’re not killing people by filling the Moon’s core.
You really believe that?
It had to happen at some point, didn’t it? Otherwise, what are we even doing on this Moon? Are you telling me that Earth East hasn’t been preparing for this exact scenario? I know Earth West has.
You know what Earth West tells you. There’s a difference. There’s always a difference.
Listen, I’ve been their contact up here for—
Yes, I know. I selected you.
What?
I chose you. Told them it was part of the conditions if I worked with them to slow down Earth East. I didn’t want anyone looking too thoroughly into how things are run up here, and you were the man for the job.
Don’t get cute, Toku. I earned my place at this table.
You could show a little more gratitude, kid.
Shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.
Don’t rise to it, Jimbo. It’s the drink talking.
No. Let him speak. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? He’s the mouth. Not the brains.
That’s enough.
And you! You always had a thing for Mallory, didn’t you? Always sniffing around while she tinkered with the collars. Those fingers of hers. So nimble. Were you jealous? Jealous of her collars, wishing it was you on her neck instead?
Stalling tactics won’t work. You know we have to do this. Stop trying to slow us down. There are more important factors at play here than bruised egos. We were wrong. We can make it right. What else matters?
You’re right. He’s just sad that his precious scotch tastes like the rear end of a moondog.
Speaking of, let me pour you another glass.
You’ve had enough.
No. Not enough. Not yet.
What do you mean, not yet?
Here. Drink up and pass me your glass. If we’re going to take the human race with us, we might as well go down together, eh?
Alright. It might taste foul, but I’ve gotta admit, it goes down easy.
One more drink. And then we issue a reset command and initialize the core program.
I’ll drink to that. Cheers.
NAMELESS
Present
There was only so long a mind could survive without food. Sure, collars fed the body. But a mouth that yearned for taste would drive a person insane. And it had been too long since Nameless had eaten.
She gazed upon the garden in the glasshouse below. How many of those plants were edible? Even just looking at them stirred her stomach into a riot. She lingered on the botanist and the way Maria dug into the ground. The care she took with the flora. The difference between Maria and Esteban. Even when one needed tending to, she never failed to do it tenderly. Whereas, if this were Esteban’s garden, there’d be only rotting stems of the plants he’d chopped down in his frustration. Whether for water or power, thirst could make a person harsh.
Nameless began walking from the window when a shadow passed into the glasshouse and approached where Maria knelt. The figure kept their head down, eyes on Maria, and stood for a long moment. Too long.
Nameless was all too familiar with what that stillness meant. She opened her window without thinking before she . . .
Maria waved the man away, but he didn’t move.
. . . climbed onto the balcony and slapped a rope to the shell of the apartment . . .
The man stepped toward Maria.
. . . before she leapt from the window into the thin gravity separating them . . .
He grabbed Maria by her hair and forced her to her feet.
. . . and descended slowly, until she touched down on the glass roof with a . . .
Maria struggled. Her attacker kept his grip firm.
. . . thud. Nameless pulled at the control unit on the panel’s roof and released the latch . . .
He tugged Maria close to him, and she screamed.
. . . and plummeted into the glasshouse. Nameless landed behind Maria, and the man spun her, pushing himself into her back. It was—no, it couldn’t be.
Ramone! Ramone!
He clutched Maria as she faced Nameless, his arm wrapped around her body, and his hand yanked at her collar. He stifled Maria’s scream, and though she fell silent, she still fought to be free.
“Stay back!” Ramone shouted.
Nameless didn’t so much as twitch.
“This is her fault! And she’s got to pay!”
“What?” Nameless asked.
He backed away with Maria, putting distance between them and Nameless. “My friend is dead! And why? Because of this sabuesa! Now. Nice and easy, take your scanner and toss it. Same with that pistol, too.”
Nameless threw her scanner a few feet. Her pistol followed.
“Good. Now, you can stay to watch, or you can leave. This won’t be pretty.”
Nameless shook her head. “It’s not her fault.”
“Not her fault? Not her fault! If she’d just given Esteban what he wanted, he wouldn’t be so desperate for water. You know why he needs it, don’t you? The water? It’s for her! All for her! Esteban wants to take on LunarCore. Fight them for the Moon so that she can turn it into a garden. Then maybe she’ll acknowledge he exists! And she won’t put up such a fight when he comes to her at the end of every Moonday to take her to his bed!”
Stockpiling for war. It made sense—hoard the water. Trade it for weapons. With enough water, he could buy any amount of spies within Lunar HQ. Bribe any number of captains from here to the far side of the Moon. This greenhouse, the raids, none of it was about the colony’s survival. It was about victory. Turning the Moon into a garden was never Esteban’s motive. He wasn’t doing this as a gift. Men like him didn’t know how to give. Only how to take.
“But she won’t let him near her,” Ramone continued. “Will you, sabuesa? Won’t let any of us near you. Not even my friend. Did you know his name?”
Maria didn’t flinch. Her eyes fixed on Nameless. There was no regret in them.
“It was Diego! And he’d still be here if it weren’t for you. If it weren’t for this!” Ramone ripped the captain’s jacket from Maria’s waist and threw it on the ground. She watched it. Tried to follow after it, but he tugged at the collar around her neck and pain flushed across her face. She stilled, her captor digging his body into her back.
“This won’t change anything,” Nameless said.
“It’s not about that. This is about repaying a debt. A debt she owes Diego.” Ramone tightened his grip on her collar and reached behind him, removing a bottle of whiskey. He threw it to Nameless, and it landed at her feet. “Open it.”
Nameless obeyed.
“Pour,” he said.
She turned her wrist, tipping it onto the ground.
Ramone smiled. “This one’s for you, amigo.” He reached behind his back again and withdrew a knife.
Nameless tensed. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“What? You think I’m scared? You might be fast on the scanner, mi amiga. But you’re not that fast.” Ramone sniffed her hair. “Such a shame. Diego would’ve enjoyed this.”
Ramone pressed the knife against Maria’s slender neck. The sharp edge danced over her skin. A warning. A threat.
Maria stared at the stranger, a question in her eyes. Nameless stared back. There was no mistaking Maria’s resolve, the fire that burned within her. A fire Nameless hoped would burn hot enough for what was about to come.
“Can you count, Ramone?” Nameless narrowed her gaze on him.
“Of course I can.”
“Good. Then do me a favor and count to three, will you? Tap it out with your foot if you like.” Nameless glanced at Ramone’s boots. Maria followed with her eyes, and moved her head in the slightest nod.
“Why should I?”
“Because that’s how long you have until you join Diego.”
Ramone laughed with an uncharacteristic wildness. “Okay, mi amiga. I’ll do you this favor. And by the time I reach tres, this little muchacha will join me and Diego both. Si?” A pause. “Uno.”
Nameless stared him down.
Ramone scowled through his smile.
Maria glanced at the stranger, her expression aflame.
“Dos.”
Nameless nodded, tightening her grip on the empty bottle.
Maria gasped a final deep breath.
Ramone opened his mouth and . . .
Maria’s boot crushed Ramone’s toes. He flinched and Nameless hurled the bottle. It slammed into his eye and he loosened his grip as Nameless charged.
Maria dove out of reach.
Ramone thrust after her.
She was only one step away.
Slash.
The blade a mere breath from her back.
Swipe.
And then Nameless collided with Ramone and caught his knife hand. She pushed against him, and he flung his head at hers, ramming his skull against her nose.
Blood spewed from her nostrils. Her footing unsteadied. Ramone flashed the knife at her chest. She spun and it clipped the fringe of her jacket, slicing a fragment and sending it into the bushes.
She faced him again, and this time, he reached for his scanner.
Nameless was too far from her own.
He laughed.
She rushed him, striking at his wrist.
He dropped his scanner, grabbed her shoulder, and pulled her closer.
They met. Torso to torso. Only the knife between them and the sound of steel slicing flesh.
Blood pooled beneath them.
Ramone opened his mouth, and whispered, “Tres.”
He backed away and she released his wrist, revealing the knife protruding from his chest. He staggered into the bush and collapsed in a heap.
Nameless stood bleeding, panting. She wiped her smashed nose on the arm of her jacket, and crouched to collect her scanner and laser-pistol.
Nameless gathered Maria’s jacket, brushed the dust off, and offered it to her.
Maria wrapped it around her like a hug of life.
“Can you bury him?” Nameless asked.
“Si.”
Nameless turned to the rope that hung behind her.
“Hey,” Maria called.
Nameless spun to face her.
“Thank you—for saving my life.”
Nameless nodded and climbed the rope. By the time she’d returned to her bedroom, Maria had already covered Ramone’s body in dust. She stood watching, the same as before. She sniffed blood and swallowed it, the metallic taste hacked at her tongue.
Nameless exhaled long and hard before collapsing onto the bed. All of a sudden, she wasn’t so hungry anymore.
MARIA
Present
Déjà vu assaulted Maria as she packed her rucksack. Clothes and a few seeds—how did they take up so much room? All she needed now was a clipping of Benito’s flower in her special container and she’d be good to go.
No emotion accompanied her this time. She’d long since gone numb, thanks to all her escape attempts. They’d been futile, and she’d known it from the start. But she wouldn’t stop trying. Maybe that’s why she held no pang of regret at leaving her keepsakes behind. She could only say goodbye so many times.
The buzzer resounded, shooting through her nerves. Please don’t be Esteban. Please.
She knew it wasn’t Sanchez. After that first attempt, he kept out of her way. Reassigned to duties far from her greenhouse, he’d never come to see her again. Maybe she’d misread his kindness. Or perhaps he’d learned being sweet didn’t pay. Esteban hadn’t suspected the boy’s involvement, otherwise he’d be dead by now. But who else would be visiting her if not Esteban?
An older man with bags under his eyes stepped through the door and returned her smile of relief. This life had made Gabe as weary as her. No doubt they both looked older than they were.
“Gabe. It’s been a long time.”
“Ah, well. You know how it is. Too busy to even scratch my nose nowadays, but I gotta see the sunshine now and then.”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. She’d gotten so used to Esteban’s slime-filled wooing, that to receive a friendly word of sincerity felt surreal.
“Tea?” she asked.
“Gracias, señorita.”
She led him to a small table set in her tiny office and boiled some water—a rare luxury on the Moon. “You’ll like this one. Spearmint and ginger.”
“Ah, you know me well.” Gabe bobbed his head and sat, his knees cracking. “Ginger works wonders for the gut.” He patted his stomach.
She poured their cups. Gabe was the only one who could visit her without Esteban getting jealous. The wimpish old man was allowed to come whenever he liked, so long as he didn’t neglect his job. But why today of all days?
“It’s getting harder, isn’t it?” she asked.
“The stomach?” He wagged his head and chuckled. “No, no. I’m just making old-man complaints.”
“I mean the job.” She sipped her tea.
Gabe sighed. “It’s life, sí?”
“It shouldn’t be like this.”
“For you, no. But for me, it’s always been this way.”
“Not always. There was a time when you were well paid. And appreciated. Not treated like a moondog.”
Gabe nodded. “Benito was a good man. I remember what a relief it was finding this place. No one else had work, but he welcomed me with open arms. The pay, the room and board—it was more than I’d ever had in my life, y’know? A dream come true.”
Maria’s sinuses burned at the memory of Benito’s goodwill. Too bad that same generosity had brought Esteban, too. He was like a nest of cockroaches in human form, dirty and invasive.
Gabe’s smile broadened. “I remember how he always greeted me like an old friend—arm over my shoulder, asking me about my day as though I had the most exciting job in the world. He was good to me.”
“And now you’re a slave,” she stated matter-of-factly. “As am I.”
Gabe’s eyes tilted. “I’m sorry, señorita.”
She stilled and let him sip his tea. “Gabe. What are you doing here? You haven’t come to see me in so long. Why today of all days?”
Gabe hung his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. You’ve heard about the stranger who’s arrived?”
The one who saved my life? Si. “Who is she?”
“I’m a moondog if I know. But ever since she came, I’ve had this feeling I haven’t had in a long time, and I guess I just . . . I wanted to share it with someone.”
“What feeling?”
Gabe chuckled. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
“Go on. I won’t laugh. I promise.”
He breathed deep. “Hope.”
She shook her head. “What’s that like, amigo? It’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember.”
Gabe rested his teacup on the table and placed an arm on her shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Perhaps there is.”
“What do you need, señorita?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a mechanic. You can fix my collar.”
“I-I . . .” Gabe’s mouth hung open. “Oh, señorita, I have no skill in such things. I know MULEs and drills, but this is too technical for me.” He tapped his collar. “It works with computers and connections in the brain. I only know moving parts.”
“It’s still hardware. Couldn’t you at least replace it with a collar that doesn’t choke me to death when I flee this wretched place? I’ve tried taking it off, but the mechanism won’t budge, no matter what I do.”
“It takes a special machine. Machines I have no access to.”
Esteban wore a gloating grin as he hauled her up and threw her over his shoulder. She was too weak to protest. Her heart pounded against her chest, demanding oxygen.
He tossed her into the vehicle. She nearly blacked out, but him sitting on top of her jolted her to consciousness. He fiddled with her collar. A click and a hiss and she gasped as air rushed in. The blackness didn’t dissipate right away but her lungs took it all in like a dried sponge.
Her chest heaved as her vision returned to its full scope. She blinked to reorient herself. Titanium walls pressed around her. A metallic scent mixed with a greasy, fetid one. The telltale smell of an armored hover.
Esteban removed her helmet and smiled down at her, condescension painted across his lips. “You didn’t think you could leave without saying goodbye, did ya?”
Dread crashed against her chest, threatening to take away her air once more.
The vile man bent close as though to kiss her, his triumphant smile at odds with his rotten breath. “I know you’re a little oxygen deprived, but in case it wasn’t clear, your collar is programmed to stop working if you try to leave.”
“What!” She tried to sit up, but his weight kept her down. “I-I could’ve died!”
“Naw. You weren’t gonna die. I installed a tracker. I’m not a monster.”
When did he do this? How?
After Benito’s death, her sleep had been as deep as a tomb. She’d attributed it to fatigue. Her skin crawled at the thought of being unconscious under Esteban’s care. Who knew what he’d done to her while she was knocked out? As soon as she got back to her prison, she’d scrub as much of his filth off her as possible.
Esteban eventually dismounted, but not before fitting cuffs on her. Only after he returned her to the greenhouse did he remove them. She bore it all with detached resignation. It wasn’t until he left and locked her in that the tears came. Silent at first. Her jaw quivered and her cheeks grew wet. She unzipped her jacket, and something in the pocket knocked against her chest. She frowned and her hand froze over the source.
The small pot was now flat. With trembling hands, she eased it out. Her throat hardened. The flower was crushed.
Oh, Benito!
She collapsed to the floor and bawled.
LUNAR HQ
[Redacted]
It isn’t as bleak as all that. We’re not killing people by filling the Moon’s core.
You really believe that?
It had to happen at some point, didn’t it? Otherwise, what are we even doing on this Moon? Are you telling me that Earth East hasn’t been preparing for this exact scenario? I know Earth West has.
You know what Earth West tells you. There’s a difference. There’s always a difference.
Listen, I’ve been their contact up here for—
Yes, I know. I selected you.
What?
I chose you. Told them it was part of the conditions if I worked with them to slow down Earth East. I didn’t want anyone looking too thoroughly into how things are run up here, and you were the man for the job.
Don’t get cute, Toku. I earned my place at this table.
You could show a little more gratitude, kid.
Shut your mouth, before I shut it for you.
Don’t rise to it, Jimbo. It’s the drink talking.
No. Let him speak. That’s why he’s here, isn’t it? He’s the mouth. Not the brains.
That’s enough.
And you! You always had a thing for Mallory, didn’t you? Always sniffing around while she tinkered with the collars. Those fingers of hers. So nimble. Were you jealous? Jealous of her collars, wishing it was you on her neck instead?
Stalling tactics won’t work. You know we have to do this. Stop trying to slow us down. There are more important factors at play here than bruised egos. We were wrong. We can make it right. What else matters?
You’re right. He’s just sad that his precious scotch tastes like the rear end of a moondog.
Speaking of, let me pour you another glass.
You’ve had enough.
No. Not enough. Not yet.
What do you mean, not yet?
Here. Drink up and pass me your glass. If we’re going to take the human race with us, we might as well go down together, eh?
Alright. It might taste foul, but I’ve gotta admit, it goes down easy.
One more drink. And then we issue a reset command and initialize the core program.
I’ll drink to that. Cheers.
NAMELESS
Present
There was only so long a mind could survive without food. Sure, collars fed the body. But a mouth that yearned for taste would drive a person insane. And it had been too long since Nameless had eaten.
She gazed upon the garden in the glasshouse below. How many of those plants were edible? Even just looking at them stirred her stomach into a riot. She lingered on the botanist and the way Maria dug into the ground. The care she took with the flora. The difference between Maria and Esteban. Even when one needed tending to, she never failed to do it tenderly. Whereas, if this were Esteban’s garden, there’d be only rotting stems of the plants he’d chopped down in his frustration. Whether for water or power, thirst could make a person harsh.
Nameless began walking from the window when a shadow passed into the glasshouse and approached where Maria knelt. The figure kept their head down, eyes on Maria, and stood for a long moment. Too long.
Nameless was all too familiar with what that stillness meant. She opened her window without thinking before she . . .
Maria waved the man away, but he didn’t move.
. . . climbed onto the balcony and slapped a rope to the shell of the apartment . . .
The man stepped toward Maria.
. . . before she leapt from the window into the thin gravity separating them . . .
He grabbed Maria by her hair and forced her to her feet.
. . . and descended slowly, until she touched down on the glass roof with a . . .
Maria struggled. Her attacker kept his grip firm.
. . . thud. Nameless pulled at the control unit on the panel’s roof and released the latch . . .
He tugged Maria close to him, and she screamed.
. . . and plummeted into the glasshouse. Nameless landed behind Maria, and the man spun her, pushing himself into her back. It was—no, it couldn’t be.
Ramone! Ramone!
He clutched Maria as she faced Nameless, his arm wrapped around her body, and his hand yanked at her collar. He stifled Maria’s scream, and though she fell silent, she still fought to be free.
“Stay back!” Ramone shouted.
Nameless didn’t so much as twitch.
“This is her fault! And she’s got to pay!”
“What?” Nameless asked.
He backed away with Maria, putting distance between them and Nameless. “My friend is dead! And why? Because of this sabuesa! Now. Nice and easy, take your scanner and toss it. Same with that pistol, too.”
Nameless threw her scanner a few feet. Her pistol followed.
“Good. Now, you can stay to watch, or you can leave. This won’t be pretty.”
Nameless shook her head. “It’s not her fault.”
“Not her fault? Not her fault! If she’d just given Esteban what he wanted, he wouldn’t be so desperate for water. You know why he needs it, don’t you? The water? It’s for her! All for her! Esteban wants to take on LunarCore. Fight them for the Moon so that she can turn it into a garden. Then maybe she’ll acknowledge he exists! And she won’t put up such a fight when he comes to her at the end of every Moonday to take her to his bed!”
Stockpiling for war. It made sense—hoard the water. Trade it for weapons. With enough water, he could buy any amount of spies within Lunar HQ. Bribe any number of captains from here to the far side of the Moon. This greenhouse, the raids, none of it was about the colony’s survival. It was about victory. Turning the Moon into a garden was never Esteban’s motive. He wasn’t doing this as a gift. Men like him didn’t know how to give. Only how to take.
“But she won’t let him near her,” Ramone continued. “Will you, sabuesa? Won’t let any of us near you. Not even my friend. Did you know his name?”
Maria didn’t flinch. Her eyes fixed on Nameless. There was no regret in them.
“It was Diego! And he’d still be here if it weren’t for you. If it weren’t for this!” Ramone ripped the captain’s jacket from Maria’s waist and threw it on the ground. She watched it. Tried to follow after it, but he tugged at the collar around her neck and pain flushed across her face. She stilled, her captor digging his body into her back.
“This won’t change anything,” Nameless said.
“It’s not about that. This is about repaying a debt. A debt she owes Diego.” Ramone tightened his grip on her collar and reached behind him, removing a bottle of whiskey. He threw it to Nameless, and it landed at her feet. “Open it.”
Nameless obeyed.
“Pour,” he said.
She turned her wrist, tipping it onto the ground.
Ramone smiled. “This one’s for you, amigo.” He reached behind his back again and withdrew a knife.
Nameless tensed. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“What? You think I’m scared? You might be fast on the scanner, mi amiga. But you’re not that fast.” Ramone sniffed her hair. “Such a shame. Diego would’ve enjoyed this.”
Ramone pressed the knife against Maria’s slender neck. The sharp edge danced over her skin. A warning. A threat.
Maria stared at the stranger, a question in her eyes. Nameless stared back. There was no mistaking Maria’s resolve, the fire that burned within her. A fire Nameless hoped would burn hot enough for what was about to come.
“Can you count, Ramone?” Nameless narrowed her gaze on him.
“Of course I can.”
“Good. Then do me a favor and count to three, will you? Tap it out with your foot if you like.” Nameless glanced at Ramone’s boots. Maria followed with her eyes, and moved her head in the slightest nod.
“Why should I?”
“Because that’s how long you have until you join Diego.”
Ramone laughed with an uncharacteristic wildness. “Okay, mi amiga. I’ll do you this favor. And by the time I reach tres, this little muchacha will join me and Diego both. Si?” A pause. “Uno.”
Nameless stared him down.
Ramone scowled through his smile.
Maria glanced at the stranger, her expression aflame.
“Dos.”
Nameless nodded, tightening her grip on the empty bottle.
Maria gasped a final deep breath.
Ramone opened his mouth and . . .
Maria’s boot crushed Ramone’s toes. He flinched and Nameless hurled the bottle. It slammed into his eye and he loosened his grip as Nameless charged.
Maria dove out of reach.
Ramone thrust after her.
She was only one step away.
Slash.
The blade a mere breath from her back.
Swipe.
And then Nameless collided with Ramone and caught his knife hand. She pushed against him, and he flung his head at hers, ramming his skull against her nose.
Blood spewed from her nostrils. Her footing unsteadied. Ramone flashed the knife at her chest. She spun and it clipped the fringe of her jacket, slicing a fragment and sending it into the bushes.
She faced him again, and this time, he reached for his scanner.
Nameless was too far from her own.
He laughed.
She rushed him, striking at his wrist.
He dropped his scanner, grabbed her shoulder, and pulled her closer.
They met. Torso to torso. Only the knife between them and the sound of steel slicing flesh.
Blood pooled beneath them.
Ramone opened his mouth, and whispered, “Tres.”
He backed away and she released his wrist, revealing the knife protruding from his chest. He staggered into the bush and collapsed in a heap.
Nameless stood bleeding, panting. She wiped her smashed nose on the arm of her jacket, and crouched to collect her scanner and laser-pistol.
Nameless gathered Maria’s jacket, brushed the dust off, and offered it to her.
Maria wrapped it around her like a hug of life.
“Can you bury him?” Nameless asked.
“Si.”
Nameless turned to the rope that hung behind her.
“Hey,” Maria called.
Nameless spun to face her.
“Thank you—for saving my life.”
Nameless nodded and climbed the rope. By the time she’d returned to her bedroom, Maria had already covered Ramone’s body in dust. She stood watching, the same as before. She sniffed blood and swallowed it, the metallic taste hacked at her tongue.
Nameless exhaled long and hard before collapsing onto the bed. All of a sudden, she wasn’t so hungry anymore.
MARIA
Present
Déjà vu assaulted Maria as she packed her rucksack. Clothes and a few seeds—how did they take up so much room? All she needed now was a clipping of Benito’s flower in her special container and she’d be good to go.
No emotion accompanied her this time. She’d long since gone numb, thanks to all her escape attempts. They’d been futile, and she’d known it from the start. But she wouldn’t stop trying. Maybe that’s why she held no pang of regret at leaving her keepsakes behind. She could only say goodbye so many times.
The buzzer resounded, shooting through her nerves. Please don’t be Esteban. Please.
She knew it wasn’t Sanchez. After that first attempt, he kept out of her way. Reassigned to duties far from her greenhouse, he’d never come to see her again. Maybe she’d misread his kindness. Or perhaps he’d learned being sweet didn’t pay. Esteban hadn’t suspected the boy’s involvement, otherwise he’d be dead by now. But who else would be visiting her if not Esteban?
An older man with bags under his eyes stepped through the door and returned her smile of relief. This life had made Gabe as weary as her. No doubt they both looked older than they were.
“Gabe. It’s been a long time.”
“Ah, well. You know how it is. Too busy to even scratch my nose nowadays, but I gotta see the sunshine now and then.”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment. She’d gotten so used to Esteban’s slime-filled wooing, that to receive a friendly word of sincerity felt surreal.
“Tea?” she asked.
“Gracias, señorita.”
She led him to a small table set in her tiny office and boiled some water—a rare luxury on the Moon. “You’ll like this one. Spearmint and ginger.”
“Ah, you know me well.” Gabe bobbed his head and sat, his knees cracking. “Ginger works wonders for the gut.” He patted his stomach.
She poured their cups. Gabe was the only one who could visit her without Esteban getting jealous. The wimpish old man was allowed to come whenever he liked, so long as he didn’t neglect his job. But why today of all days?
“It’s getting harder, isn’t it?” she asked.
“The stomach?” He wagged his head and chuckled. “No, no. I’m just making old-man complaints.”
“I mean the job.” She sipped her tea.
Gabe sighed. “It’s life, sí?”
“It shouldn’t be like this.”
“For you, no. But for me, it’s always been this way.”
“Not always. There was a time when you were well paid. And appreciated. Not treated like a moondog.”
Gabe nodded. “Benito was a good man. I remember what a relief it was finding this place. No one else had work, but he welcomed me with open arms. The pay, the room and board—it was more than I’d ever had in my life, y’know? A dream come true.”
Maria’s sinuses burned at the memory of Benito’s goodwill. Too bad that same generosity had brought Esteban, too. He was like a nest of cockroaches in human form, dirty and invasive.
Gabe’s smile broadened. “I remember how he always greeted me like an old friend—arm over my shoulder, asking me about my day as though I had the most exciting job in the world. He was good to me.”
“And now you’re a slave,” she stated matter-of-factly. “As am I.”
Gabe’s eyes tilted. “I’m sorry, señorita.”
She stilled and let him sip his tea. “Gabe. What are you doing here? You haven’t come to see me in so long. Why today of all days?”
Gabe hung his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure. You’ve heard about the stranger who’s arrived?”
The one who saved my life? Si. “Who is she?”
“I’m a moondog if I know. But ever since she came, I’ve had this feeling I haven’t had in a long time, and I guess I just . . . I wanted to share it with someone.”
“What feeling?”
Gabe chuckled. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
“Go on. I won’t laugh. I promise.”
He breathed deep. “Hope.”
She shook her head. “What’s that like, amigo? It’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember.”
Gabe rested his teacup on the table and placed an arm on her shoulder. “I wish there was something I could do.”
“Perhaps there is.”
“What do you need, señorita?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re a mechanic. You can fix my collar.”
“I-I . . .” Gabe’s mouth hung open. “Oh, señorita, I have no skill in such things. I know MULEs and drills, but this is too technical for me.” He tapped his collar. “It works with computers and connections in the brain. I only know moving parts.”
“It’s still hardware. Couldn’t you at least replace it with a collar that doesn’t choke me to death when I flee this wretched place? I’ve tried taking it off, but the mechanism won’t budge, no matter what I do.”
“It takes a special machine. Machines I have no access to.”
