11
Molly stepped out of the sheriff’s office and back onto the crowded sidewalk. She looked down at the ticket stub she’d just purchased. There was no name on it, just a date, time, and place: that very night at eight o’clock, the opera house. Lok’s extremely short days meant she didn’t have long to wait, but it also meant skipping a shift of sleep. She tried to calculate how long she’ll have been up by the next nightfall—when the Wadi’s claws dug sharply into her shoulder, breaking her concentration.
She turned to chastise the animal, then saw it had cowered down low to peer over her shoulder at something. Following its eyes, she looked across the street and spied Walter walking amongst the crowd.
Molly let a buggy go by, its un-muffled engine blatting loudly as it revved up to cajole the buggy ahead of it. She ran across the street behind it, hot exhaust blasting her bare knees. Weaving through the foot traffic, she took long strides to try and catch up to Walter. The boy was walking unusually fast and quite close to the two Humans just ahead of him.
She nearly caught up to him when a ruckus occurred. Some kid came out of an alley right in front of the couple. The boy collided with them, sending the woman to the dirt, and then ran off without even apologizing. Molly rushed forward to help her and her husband, to see if they were okay. Shockingly, Walter did the same. He steadied the man by the hips to make sure the gentleman didn’t go down as well.
“Are you alright?” Molly asked the lady as she helped her up.
“Little snot came out of nowhere!” she said, brushing the dirt off her knees.
“Now Sandra, it was just an accident.” The gentleman patted Walter on the back. “Alright lad, I’m fine. Thank you very much.” He smiled at Molly and tipped his wide-brimmed hat. “Thanks for your assistance, young lady.”
“Molly!” Walter said. He glanced up and down the street as the couple merged with the crowd and disappeared. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m looking for the person who’s gonna help get us out of here. What’re you doing?”
“Nothing,” Walter said. He thumbed through folds of paper in his hand. “What wass her name again?”
“Cat. I’ve told you that a hundred times.” She pulled him out of the middle of the sidewalk so the crowd wouldn’t have to part to get around them.
“I think I found her,” Walter said.
Before Molly could respond, a young boy forded the river of foot traffic and tugged on Walter’s elbow. Walter turned and pushed him away, hissing softly.
“Did you just give that kid something?” Molly asked.
“What?”
“Was that the kid from the alley?”
“Huh? No!” Walter turned and resumed thumbing through something in his hands. All Molly could see was the top of his stubbled, metallic head, which seemed to be glowing a little. He turned around and pressed a wad into Molly’s hands. She looked at them: a thin stack of tickets, all to that night’s show at the opera house.
She shook them at him. “Where did you get these, Walter?”
“People gave them to me.”
“Gave them?” She reached out and grabbed a fistful of his flightsuit, pulling him close. “Where did you get them? Did you steal them?”
“No! They’re free!” he squealed.
Molly glared at Walter and had a visual of spanking him, right there in public, age be damned. “C’mon,” she said, pulling him back across the street. She veered toward one of the many outdoor cafes lining a busy side-alley.
Walter pried her fist off his cuff and grabbed her hand. As they crossed the street, he practically skipped along beside her, trying in vain to interlock his fingers with hers.
A few minutes later, Walter sat across a small café table from Molly, sulking. He took his finger out of his mouth and asked, “Why can’t we go back to the sship?” He pouted and resumed sucking on his digit.
Molly took a sip of her water, which she had made Walter vote for, then leaned back in her seat. “I already told you, some bad people are setting up camp in there, and the sheriff won’t have anything to do with them. Besides, I don’t wanna miss our chance at finally tracking this Cat character down.”
“So let’ss go get ssome gunss,” Walter said. Molly glanced away from him and over his shoulder. Two Callites were walking down the alley, both wearing coveralls splattered with the same purple paint Scottie and his friends had sported. She watched them curiously over the lip of her glass.
“I ssaid, let’ss get ssome gunss,” Walter hissed.
“Get them where? Guns are illegal here.” Molly reached into her glass and pulled out a cube of ice. She squeezed it between the pads of her fingers to numb the persistent soreness there. “That’s why you don’t see people on Lok shooting at each other.”
Walter looked down at his computer for a moment, then back up at Molly. “How do you protect yoursself from whoever’ss in charge?”
“Look around you, pal—this isn’t Palan. A bunch of pirates aren’t gonna take over and let the last people out of prison before putting some different ones in. It doesn’t work like that here.” She raised her voice as she talked, speaking over a protest marching down Main street. Someone on a bullhorn was promising to handle the Drenard invasion differently, and also to get rid of the ships overhead, if only the electorate would throw the current bums out and install him in their place.
“But if the ssheriff won’t help, and he’ss the one with the gunss, how do we get the sship back?”
“I don’t know. Hopefully they’ll be gone by the time we return. I think they were looking for someone else, anyway. Maybe they’ll give up. Anyway, we’re just gonna hang out here until the show. We need to find out about the fusion fuel. That’s the most important thing right now.”
“I thought we had plenty of fuel. You don’t tell me anything.”
“Yes I do. I’ve told you a dozen times, you just don’t listen. We need a different kind of fuel or we can’t get back from where we’re going. Besides, this lady might be an ally, which we’re in desperate need of. Our crew has dwindled down to—”
“I’m your ally!” Walter said, beaming.
“Yeah?” Molly took a long pull from her water, and then fished for another cube of ice. “Where in hyperspace were you this morning when I needed you?”
Walter frowned and looked back down at his computer; he’d hardly touched his food. Molly wondered if she should give the plate to the Wadi. She looked down at the creature, which was curled up in her lap, chewing on the tablecloth.
“Are you still not in yet?” Molly asked Walter.
He shook his head, which seemed to glow with an inner light. It was a sign she’d begun to recognize as either shame or excitement. Not knowing which made for some interesting interpretations of his moods.
“Seriously? You can crack a StarCarrier mainframe and remotely hack a Navy-issue missile, but you can’t get a wireless signal in a cafe? Look, just let me pay for it.” She glanced at her poor pinky, rationalizing the sacrifice.
Suddenly, the roar of thrusters in the atmosphere caused everyone in the café to glance up. It sounded at first like another Bern ship heading off to orbit, but they were too far from the rift for it to be that. She and Walter joined the rest of the patrons in searching the sky for the source.
She finally spotted the vertical plume from the lift-off. The tiny ship at its head didn’t match up with the sonic boom it created, as the sight of it reached them well ahead of the lagging noise. It was a strange optical illusion: a silent ship being chased by the grumble of an invisible one. It was especially unnerving as Molly still had not gotten used to hearing spacecraft move.