Didi and the Gunslinger Page 4

  Dad winces, turns to Didi who glares at Pip. Yes, removing his voice box for a little while is an excellent idea.

  “You know how I feel about that, Deeds.” Dad’s quiet, not angry. He’s rarely angry. More scared and she knows why. It’s dangerous out there.

  “And you know if I didn’t we wouldn’t have half the things we do.” She meets Dad’s eyes with her own level gaze. “That spool of silverwire you needed for your invention. Think that came out of thin air?” Well, it did, she remembers. When it fell off the back of the dumpall.

  Dad hesitates. “Is that where you were all day?”

  She’s not about to turn in the damned bird, though she should. “How’s your steak?”

  Pip tuts around a crunchy bit of peapod he’s stolen from her plate. “Tell him about the trash rats, Didi. And your run-in with Jackus.” Dad chokes on his sip of water, eyes huge behind his glasses while Didi’s chest tightens, fists clenched around her cutlery. Maybe she’ll just disassemble the farging bird. Make an entirely new—faithful—creature from the old. Or, maybe she’ll dump his feathered behind in the sludge creek. “Oh, and the gunslingers.”

  Her turn to choke. “Pip!” She can’t help it. How dare he share that with Dad? It’s their secret.

  Dad’s anxiety rises visibly on his face. “You found gunslingers?”

  Didi is forced to nod, though she keeps her voice steady and calm, a miracle in her estimation. “A whole cargo hold of them, Dad. Someone dumped them here.”

  Dad nods, head down, food forgotten, it seems, as he goes still. “How horrible.”

  Didi agrees, though he seems to be taking it personally. “Why horrible? They aren’t active or anything.” Not that she could tell, anyway.

  Dad sits back, pushing his glasses up on his nose, arms crossing over his chest. His long-sleeved shirt rides up his narrow forearms, the rolls of the cuff hanging softly aside, exposing faint scars on his pale skin. She’s often wondered what happened to him, where the scars came from. But Dad won’t talk about it and it’s easier not to ask. “Horrible,” he says, “because they were people once, Didi.” He looks off in the distance. “Like you and me. Hurt, beyond repair under normal circumstances, placed in metal bodies and turned into soldiers.” Dad shudders, running his hands over his arms. Didi’s heart constricts but she doesn’t know why. “Just seems a tragedy for them to end up in a place like this.” Their home. Dad often speaks of Trash Heaven like it’s more hell than heaven. But despite its faults, it’s all Didi knows. Protectiveness rises inside her, the need to defend her planet. Except he’s right.

  It’s just a pile of trash.

  “I never thought gunslingers would end up here.” Dad pushes his plate away. Pip hops closer, helps himself, the greedy guts. Didi doesn’t try to stop him. Waste not, want not. “But, I guess even their usefulness comes to an end eventually.”

  “They were decommed over fifty years ago.” Pip pauses in his gulping. “What’s the big deal?”

  “They were meant to be disposed of like real people,” Dad says, almost whispers. “Not tossed like garbage.” He stands before Didi can ask him how he knows. Dad knows a lot of things he won’t talk about. “I need to get back to work.” He leaves her there, head down, hands in his pockets. Only stops and pauses when he reaches his lab’s door. When he turns back, his smile is kind and, like always when he takes the time to truly see her, Didi’s heart warms up so much she hugs herself from the joy of it. “Thanks for dinner.”

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  She turns back to her plate as his door closes, looking down at the remains of her meal. Just in time for a black beak to help itself to the last pea pod on her plate. Didi’s hand lashes out, catches Pip by the neck. He drops his stolen booty and squawks. Her even, white teeth crunch through the pod as she glares at her captive.

  “You’re a flying rat, you know that?” She lets him go when he shudders, flapping and whining.

  “I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He flutters to the surface of the island, head hanging low. “I can’t help it. I worry about you.” His one red eye flares. “And, it’s just my nature.”

  She snorts, turns her back on him, taking the two plates to the cleanser. Water is a precious thing here on Trash Heaven, not something to be wasted cleaning such ordinary things as dishes. Didi tries not to think about the chemical mix of goo that the recycling cleanser uses to scrub as she leaves Pip to fly after her on her way back to her lab.

  It was her intent to finish repairing the air conditioning system she’d located on the edge of her territory—for real this time, just lying there waiting for her attention—but she can’t stay focused. Pip is smart enough to stay quiet, floating on whispering wings as she finally sets down her tools and leaves her oasis for the main hall. Her bedroom calls, a good night’s sleep curled up in a cot in the corner of the greenhouse. But she’s drawn, as always, to check in on Dad before she takes her own rest.

  He’s been working so hard on his new invention he’s even more distracted than normal. Not that he tells her to keep her distance—doing so would just make her even more curious—Dad hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with the details of what he’s working on. And, quite frankly, Didi doesn’t care. He’s a good inventor, she’d defend that to her grave. But nothing he comes up with seems to have, well, greater value. Who on Trash Heaven needs a rig to extract precious metals from fresh clay? There hasn’t been a scrap of bare ground on this planet accessible in over a century. Or a device that can turn liquid plas into fabric? Though, she admits it’s been fun experimenting and making clothes with the stuff. She runs one hand over the front of her tank top as she enters Dad’s lab. No more scrounging for discarded cloth or scraping what she can from spacer seat backs. Sure, Dad would buy her things and bring them home from Trash City, but she likes having control over her own style.

  Didi pokes her head into the lab, Pip settling on her shoulder without invitation. She briefly considers dumping his feathers onto the floor, just to show him she’s still unhappy, but it’s not worth it when Dad is obviously in the middle of something exciting. She’s never seen her father’s face so pink, his smile so wide and, as she intrudes, he turns and waves for her to join him.

  “Come see.”

  Didi hurries to his side, the rare opportunity to observe without feeling like she’s invading his private space triggering her own excitement. “It’s almost done, Didi.”

  “What is it?” Rather unassuming, this thing he’s built. A silver box, looks like. A small panel on one side blinks green as the machine hums softly to itself.

  He glances at her, pauses. Which tells her he’s going to lie to her, and she’s fine with that. He doesn’t have to, though. She’d never spill his secrets to anyone. That so? Her mind whispers to her, showing her Jackus’s interested face, before she shakes it off, angry. That’s so, rightly. Never.

  “I’m trying to find a way to transform liquid organics into metal,” Dad says. Didi smothers a snort. No way that’s truth, she’s hardly stupid. But, she’ll live with his lie until he’s ready to tell her the real purpose. Dad clears his throat, uncomfortable, before forging on. “This thing,” he pats it, the hum rising a little louder before it settles again, “is our ticket off Trash Heaven, Didi. I just need a few more tweaks…” He’s lost to the machine again, muttering to himself, lost to the fact his daughter stares at him in shock.

  Leave Trash Heaven? And how will this machine take them from here? Resentment bubbles, boils suddenly, waking her anger. She glares at the machine as though it’s alive and purposely trying to take her from her home. It gurgles softly in response to her irritated attention. “Don’t see a ship in it,” she says, sharp and bitter.

  Dad laughs. “No, not a ship, Didi. But maybe this will allow us to reunite with those we’re missing…” She wants to ask him what he means, who he’s talking about, but her gut clenches at the thought. He’s never spoken of it before, at least not much. It’s always just b
een them and she likes it that way. Money, sure, that would be nice. But they’ve scrounged what they needed for as long as she remembers. What’s wrong with that? “I’ll finally be able to take you away from here.”

  He says that like it’s a good thing, forces her to stop and think about it. The people in the vids she’s watched, the planets out there without trash heaped up for days. What kind of life would that be?

  Dad is working again, ignoring her now. She doesn’t bother to try to stir him, not with her own thoughts all jumbled and tossed. He might as well have just triggered a dumpall of trash on her head, she’s so flummoxed. With Pip silently clinging to her shoulder, Didi drifts out of his lab again and goes to hers.

  “Leave Trash Heaven.” Pip whispers what she’s thinking. “I’ve never heard the like. What do you reckon, Didi?”

  She ignores him, strips off her boots, turning off the deflectors she’s forgotten all evening. They power down with sparking spits before settling firmly on the floor next to her cot. The faint green light translated by the glass overhead dims as she settles back, looking out at the stars through the plas, cloudless sky the same as it’s been since she can recall.

  Not much changes on Trash Heaven. Not even her life. But, sounds to her like that might be coming to an end sooner than later.

  Or not. Dad’s inventions being what they are. She feels better as she thinks on it. Sure, maybe whatever he’s building might be stirring his need to go, but the proof will be in the trash he’s put together.

  “Night, Pip.” She turns over on her side as the crow settles down next to her, beak against her wrist.

  “Night then, Didi.” He’s silent a long moment, the quiet of the greenhouse embracing her. “Sorry I’m a blabbermouth.”

  Didi sighs and closes her eyes, unable to stop smiling.

  ***

  Is it Pip’s snoring that woke her? Didi rolls half over, nudging the crow who clatters his beak at her, still asleep. She’s wide awake, that’s certain, drat the feathered brat. Didi exhales in disgust, one arm rising to cover her eyes, the bright light from outside shining over her face.

  Wait, light? It’s not morning, far from it if the rest of the sky’s color is an indicator. Where’s the light coming from? Didi swings out of bed, heart hammering suddenly. She can’t help it, she thinks of trouble.

  She’s barely pulled one boot on when she hears her father’s voice, muffled through the plas, the sound of an engine firing up. Who is he talking to? Pip jerks awake as she runs for the door, flapping after her. The passage to the kitchen is so dark she stumbles forward, falling onto the metal floor, catching herself with both hands while the crow squawks overhead.

  “Be careful!” He needs to tell her this now? Didi lurches back to her feet, runs for the foyer, for the open front door she’s hung so carefully, standing ajar.

  Just in time to see Dad, talking fast but too far for her to hear what he’s saying, falling forward himself into the back of a low, black skimmer while three big shapes surround him. Didi hesitates, a moment of guilt that will haunt her the rest of her life, too late to stop them as they leap into the hovering vehicle and drive off.

  With her father.

  Leaving her alone.

  Her mouth goes dry as she opens her lips to call her father’s name, inhaling a giant lungful of noxious night air. Coughing, she pushes the door closed, spinning to reach for her filters and mouth guard. Pip flaps in her face, cawing and clawing at her while her heart tries its best to leap from her chest and go west, after her father.

  “Didi!” Pip’s claws catch her hair, pull her head around. She stares up at him, shaking but frozen, blinking moisture from her view. “Didi, stop.” She lifts her hands, lets them drop to her sides. She’s stopped, surely has. Now what, bird?

  She must have whispered the last question, because Pip shudders and settles on one of the heaps of salvage, red eye whirling.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “But running off, that’s foolishness and we both know it.”

  Her father is gone. What does Pip want her to do? Sit here and wait? “Over my dead body.” She’s charging forward, to her lab. She’ll get her filters and mouth guard, a skein of water, some of that freeze dried food she salvaged two months ago. Jacket and her weapon…

  She stops in a jerk just inside her greenhouse. The weapon. She hasn’t fixed it yet. It's no good to her if it doesn’t work. Despair rides a wave up her legs into her gut and bursts like a volcano in her chest. It closes off her throat, drives a wedge in the tops of her lungs until she can’t breathe, is bent over in half trying to force air into her body while the world goes black around the edges, sparks of light dancing in what remains of her vision.

  Something slams into her back and she gasps, life returning while she falls forward onto her knees.

  Pip settles next to her on the floor, rubbing her cheek with his, murmuring to her while his beak clicks open and closed in sympathy.

  “Didi,” he whispers. “Stop.”

  She nods, pulls him to her and hugs him against her chest, rocking with him there. “We have to go after him.”

  “He could be gone on a job.” The first rational thing that’s come out of Pip’s mouth in a long time. Was that it? Was Dad just gone on a job? She’d love to believe that, except for the way the three giant figures pushed him into the skimmer and how Dad would never, ever leave her without telling her where he was going.

  “His lab.” She gasps the words, is on her feet, running with Pip still in her arms. Maybe he’s left some indication there, some sign to tell her what’s happened. She bursts through the kitchen and into the lab door, stopping in a heartbeat with her mouth open.

  The machine. Dad’s invention.

  It’s gone.

  ***

  Chapter Eight

  Didi paces her dad’s lab while Pip flutters from place to place, muttering, “Oh dear,” over and over again. She fears he’s on some kind of mental loop, his system overwhelmed, but she doesn’t have the will to do anything about it.

  She’s feeling rather that way herself at the moment.

  “So, not a job.” She stops in the middle of the room, staring at the empty space where her father’s work used to sit. Pip stops his flying, stares at her, head cocked to one side, the whirring of his cyborg eye loud in the stillness. “Looked like an abduction, Pip. Like they took him.”

  The crow doesn’t comment. For once. The time she needs him to talk to her and he’s lost his tongue? Contrary creature.

  “They went west.” Didi knows where they went, knows the only thing west is Trash City, the single settlement on the planet, the only place anyone who is anyone might want her father. And that skimmer, all sleek and black, no way it belongs to a squatter. Trash City, for certain. She shudders softly, a sympathetic reaction she’s barely aware of.

  Fear fizzles, simmers. She’s been there before, course she has, with Dad. When their skimmer worked, before he traded it off to Putter for parts. Other times he traveled with squatters, never let her go with him. She barely remembers Trash City, always left locked in the vehicle or left home. And he’s there, she’s sure of it.

  Hide her dad from her out here, in the trash, and he’d be free again in a heartbeat. But Trash City… she bites her lower lip, stomach knotted so tight her back aches. “We have to go after him.”

  “How?” Pip finally has his voice. She wishes he’d shut up again. “No transport, no way of knowing where he went or who took him.” He pauses, looks down as though ashamed of his words. “What if he’s just gone a bit and is coming back? Would be silly for us to chase after him if that’s the case.”

  Didi’s mouth is dry. She needs to swallow but can’t. “You think we should wait.”

  Pip flies to her shoulder and settles. “You’ll just see.” He sounds cheerful, far too cheerful, but she latches onto his tone like a safety line. “Tarvis will be in touch before morning. Let us know what’s what. Just a misunderstanding, him not telling you he
was going. You know what your dad is like.”

  Well… that is true. He’s absentminded enough she could see Pip’s point. Except she can’t get that scene out of her head, her father being shoved into the skimmer, not of his own decision.

  “If he doesn’t?” It’s necessary, to ask.

  Pip is silent a long moment before preening his chest feathers and sighing. “I don’t know, Didi,” he says. “I surely don’t.”

  She waits until morning, just an hour out, with no word from her dad. Pip squeaks and mutters at her, though he doesn’t argue at least when she turns on her boots and dons her short coat and goggles, packing some extra water and tools.

  She exits the front door, closing it up behind her, locking the system and setting the electrified protections. Pip hops from one foot to the other on a nearby heap of discarded spacer chairs.

  “Where you going, Didi?” He flies to her but she shrugs him off her shoulder, forcing him to wing his way past her then circle over her head like a hovering cloud of doom.

  “Don’t try to stop me, Pip.” He squawks as she swats at him, his dive bombing irritating to no end, especially now. “I need answers, not some foolish platitudes and possibilities.”

  When she turns toward the south, he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Not the city,” he says. Pauses a moment before going on, curiosity in his voice. “You think Putter’ll know what’s what?”

  Didi tromps her way down the path, heading for the southern edge of her territory. “That old man knows everything,” she says. “Maybe he’s heard something.”

  Pip tries again to sit on her shoulder and she finally lets him. Sure, he’s a pain in her behind but his familiar weight is comforting and she’s finding she’s in need of more than a little comfort. Doing something, anything, is better than sitting around waiting to hear from Dad—or not hear from him, as she fears will be the case. But, the further her feet carry her from home, the more unstable she feels, and she fights the well of tears that sits in the center of her chest, waiting for her first moment of weakness so they can emerge.