“You’re remarkably unbothered,” Yvonne says, kicking a loose rock down the empty sidewalk until it bounces off a trunk. Her hands are in fists, a muscle in her jaw feathering.
I’m unbothered about a stranger not liking me. Yvonne wanting so much to come to my defense…that’s doing something to my heart rate. “Well, I was gonna get mad, but you were already about to combust.”
Bat shoves his head out of the backpack. “I say we sneak back in tonight, I find where she sleeps, and bite her toes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Yvonne says. “You could go for her smug little nose too.”
“Alright, children.”
Yvonne pinches me and grabs Anya’s hand around my back, “You okay, hun? Ignore that woman, she’s just nasty.”
Anya shrugs, still leaning against me as I try to walk. I’m squished between the two of them, this is getting to be a bit too much.
“I’m fine. If Aaron didn’t mind her, I don’t mind her.”
Something about that makes my heart hurt. I shouldn’t be having a problem swallowing. I’ve officially lost any amount of dignity I’ve ever had. It was nice while it lasted. Though I’m certain I’ll hear about it later, I duck and scoop her up with one arm as if she’s much smaller than she is. But she isn’t heavy to my muscles and bones—I could probably do this to Yvonne without much strain. Anya wraps her arms around my neck, chin on my shoulder, and pets Bat who’s now trapped right next to her. Her face pressed against my injured implants is unsettling, but my face has never seemed to frighten her.
I can feel Yvonne’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I ignore her. If she ever brings this up I’m going to remind her she nearly broke my ship with that stupid pebble.
We wander back down the sidewalk in the direction we came. More shouts and calls from children echo from around the building, amongst all the trees. Something about the tone and pitch seems off, and I pause in the alley between this building and the next, which seems to be some sort of clothing shop. I don’t want to actually go back onto the property—we’re on public land with the sidewalk, that woman can’t call the authorities. I squint between the trees. Anya raises her head to look as well.
“Kids are dramatic,” Yvonne mutters with a grin.
Anya says, “Hey!”
Something seems a little off to me. Glancing over my shoulder at the front door, I don’t see anyone, and I doubt if the woman is looking out the glass door she can see us from this angle. The orphanage seems to back up to the forest anyway, so if she does we can take off into it.
I step off the sidewalk and down the mossy alleyway, heading toward all the screaming and calling. I don’t know the language most of the children are speaking, but I’ve heard Zane and Lalia say some of the words when they call up their parents. Must be the local language of the planet, or at least this section of it.
The trees back here are giant. Trunks at least a dozen feet in diameter push between the buildings, barely accessible space between them. Vines hang low. A fence is back here, but it isn’t tall, and I drop Anya over it before boosting myself over. She’s grinning, all insults forgotten as we’re back to doing something sneaky and mildly illegal. Her parents are going to have a hell of a time with her once she actually hits her teen years. She’ll probably end up like her sister.
I actually pity the king and queen.
Yvonne boosts herself over as well, and I feel Bat clamber out of the backpack to disappear into the undergrowth. From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of grey and metal as he scurries straight up the side of the nearest tree. He’ll be well-hidden back here. I’m uncertain what the wildlife is like around here, but he probably won’t cause suspicion if someone catches brief sight of him in the treetops.
“We’re going to regret this,” Yvonne says casually, brushing past a fern to follow me through the gap between the side of the building and one of the giant trees.
“On a positive note, maybe that woman will burst a blood vessel.”
“You’re very violent,” Anya says.
“Believe it or not, this is restraint,” I say, thinking of Kel and grimacing.
Near the back of the building, I finally figure what the commotion is.
Someone appears to be stuck up a tree.
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t laugh. In a place like this, I can’t believe there aren’t some sort of guardrails preventing the children from clambering up. But looking closer, I’m surprised anyone managed it. The trunk is smooth, vertical ribs running up, but very few places to put hands and feet with any security. The first branches start at least two dozen feet into the air. The trunks themselves are pretty much the climbing-deterrent. I’ve seen others in the trees—maybe they’re jumping from rooftops into treetops.
Whatever child I can see is perched in the branches near the very top. The roof of the orphanage and neighboring buildings aren’t close enough to touch the leaves. He’s obviously wrapped himself around one of the branches, too afraid to get down now that he’s up there. Other children are running around the tree, calling up or pointing. Two grown women stand at the bottom, a man on a hand-held comm.
I don’t know whether to find this whole thing funny or feel bad for the kid. Bit of both, I suppose.
Yvonne glances at me. I try not to smirk, then feel awkward at the shared amusement.
No sign of the rude woman from the front. I wonder if she was in charge.
Yvonne wanders to the nearest adult and asks, “Everything okay?”
The young woman jumps and says, “Yeah, we’re getting someone over. How’d you get back here?”
“Heard screams, came though the alley. Thought someone might be hurt.”
I hand Anya the empty backpack and tell her, “Stay.”
She gives me a knowing look I ignore as I trot to around the backside of the tree where I won’t get eyeballed by the adults. I hear the woman saying something about how it’s going to take a while to get someone over since they need either someone who can climb up, or a hoverer small enough to get up among the branches without knocking the kid out.
Really, they need some sort of energy shield they can drop him onto like the ones that kept people off the streets on Amethyst, but perhaps that isn’t a common technology. I don’t know much about such things.
I squint up. My chances with kids are pretty bad in general. Anya still shocks me when she follows two feet from me like a puppy. Hell, I picked her up and she wasn’t afraid. Maybe Captain messed with her brain. I frown. Unlikely, but the idea makes my skin crawl. I edge through the trees to the back of this largest one. The five or six kids back around this shady side of the tree scatter when they see me, several gasps following.
Dramatic.
The tree isn’t exactly climbable, but I see where the kid must have climbed. Knobby bumps of wood protrude here and there on this side of the tree, some scrape marks that could easily be from shoes scrambling up. It’s not going to be a very stable climb, but when I dig my fingertips and toes of my boots into the holds, it isn’t going to be impossible.
I probably should just learn to mind my own business.
Glancing up, I can’t catch sight of Bat, but I’m certain he’s up there somewhere. Checking my surroundings, none of the adults can see me and I’ve frightened away the children, so no one’s watching. I scale about two thirds of the trunk in a minute or so, and check below to find Yvonne has rounded the tree and has her arms folded at me. She waves. Even from here, I think I see her smirking.
Zane and Lalia would never let this go. Might have to bribe Yvonne and Anya not to bring this up. I’ve found myself missing the siblings at random points during the day. Not going to bring that up either, but their easy joy and snippy comments are missing from the trip.
My hands are only minority aching by the time I grab the bottom of the branches and seat myself on one. My toes are a little annoyed too. I wiggle them aggressively in the toes of my boots. Above me, I see a pair of eyes staring at me. I don’t want to shout at him, so I maneuver through the nest-like branches, not in danger of falling now I’m up in the thick of it. I could find a place to sleep up here and be in no danger of falling out. The middle is practically a nest in the direct center of the trunk, but the kid’s out on the outermost branches, thinner and less likely to hold my weight. He had to go all the way out there.
I crouch on the closest branch and feel it crack beneath my boot.
“You’re remarkably unbothered,” Yvonne says, kicking a loose rock down the empty sidewalk until it bounces off a trunk. Her hands are in fists, a muscle in her jaw feathering.
I’m unbothered about a stranger not liking me. Yvonne wanting so much to come to my defense…that’s doing something to my heart rate. “Well, I was gonna get mad, but you were already about to combust.”
Bat shoves his head out of the backpack. “I say we sneak back in tonight, I find where she sleeps, and bite her toes.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Yvonne says. “You could go for her smug little nose too.”
“Alright, children.”
Yvonne pinches me and grabs Anya’s hand around my back, “You okay, hun? Ignore that woman, she’s just nasty.”
Anya shrugs, still leaning against me as I try to walk. I’m squished between the two of them, this is getting to be a bit too much.
“I’m fine. If Aaron didn’t mind her, I don’t mind her.”
Something about that makes my heart hurt. I shouldn’t be having a problem swallowing. I’ve officially lost any amount of dignity I’ve ever had. It was nice while it lasted. Though I’m certain I’ll hear about it later, I duck and scoop her up with one arm as if she’s much smaller than she is. But she isn’t heavy to my muscles and bones—I could probably do this to Yvonne without much strain. Anya wraps her arms around my neck, chin on my shoulder, and pets Bat who’s now trapped right next to her. Her face pressed against my injured implants is unsettling, but my face has never seemed to frighten her.
I can feel Yvonne’s eyes burning into the side of my face. I ignore her. If she ever brings this up I’m going to remind her she nearly broke my ship with that stupid pebble.
We wander back down the sidewalk in the direction we came. More shouts and calls from children echo from around the building, amongst all the trees. Something about the tone and pitch seems off, and I pause in the alley between this building and the next, which seems to be some sort of clothing shop. I don’t want to actually go back onto the property—we’re on public land with the sidewalk, that woman can’t call the authorities. I squint between the trees. Anya raises her head to look as well.
“Kids are dramatic,” Yvonne mutters with a grin.
Anya says, “Hey!”
Something seems a little off to me. Glancing over my shoulder at the front door, I don’t see anyone, and I doubt if the woman is looking out the glass door she can see us from this angle. The orphanage seems to back up to the forest anyway, so if she does we can take off into it.
I step off the sidewalk and down the mossy alleyway, heading toward all the screaming and calling. I don’t know the language most of the children are speaking, but I’ve heard Zane and Lalia say some of the words when they call up their parents. Must be the local language of the planet, or at least this section of it.
The trees back here are giant. Trunks at least a dozen feet in diameter push between the buildings, barely accessible space between them. Vines hang low. A fence is back here, but it isn’t tall, and I drop Anya over it before boosting myself over. She’s grinning, all insults forgotten as we’re back to doing something sneaky and mildly illegal. Her parents are going to have a hell of a time with her once she actually hits her teen years. She’ll probably end up like her sister.
I actually pity the king and queen.
Yvonne boosts herself over as well, and I feel Bat clamber out of the backpack to disappear into the undergrowth. From the corner of my eye, I catch a flash of grey and metal as he scurries straight up the side of the nearest tree. He’ll be well-hidden back here. I’m uncertain what the wildlife is like around here, but he probably won’t cause suspicion if someone catches brief sight of him in the treetops.
“We’re going to regret this,” Yvonne says casually, brushing past a fern to follow me through the gap between the side of the building and one of the giant trees.
“On a positive note, maybe that woman will burst a blood vessel.”
“You’re very violent,” Anya says.
“Believe it or not, this is restraint,” I say, thinking of Kel and grimacing.
Near the back of the building, I finally figure what the commotion is.
Someone appears to be stuck up a tree.
I bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t laugh. In a place like this, I can’t believe there aren’t some sort of guardrails preventing the children from clambering up. But looking closer, I’m surprised anyone managed it. The trunk is smooth, vertical ribs running up, but very few places to put hands and feet with any security. The first branches start at least two dozen feet into the air. The trunks themselves are pretty much the climbing-deterrent. I’ve seen others in the trees—maybe they’re jumping from rooftops into treetops.
Whatever child I can see is perched in the branches near the very top. The roof of the orphanage and neighboring buildings aren’t close enough to touch the leaves. He’s obviously wrapped himself around one of the branches, too afraid to get down now that he’s up there. Other children are running around the tree, calling up or pointing. Two grown women stand at the bottom, a man on a hand-held comm.
I don’t know whether to find this whole thing funny or feel bad for the kid. Bit of both, I suppose.
Yvonne glances at me. I try not to smirk, then feel awkward at the shared amusement.
No sign of the rude woman from the front. I wonder if she was in charge.
Yvonne wanders to the nearest adult and asks, “Everything okay?”
The young woman jumps and says, “Yeah, we’re getting someone over. How’d you get back here?”
“Heard screams, came though the alley. Thought someone might be hurt.”
I hand Anya the empty backpack and tell her, “Stay.”
She gives me a knowing look I ignore as I trot to around the backside of the tree where I won’t get eyeballed by the adults. I hear the woman saying something about how it’s going to take a while to get someone over since they need either someone who can climb up, or a hoverer small enough to get up among the branches without knocking the kid out.
Really, they need some sort of energy shield they can drop him onto like the ones that kept people off the streets on Amethyst, but perhaps that isn’t a common technology. I don’t know much about such things.
I squint up. My chances with kids are pretty bad in general. Anya still shocks me when she follows two feet from me like a puppy. Hell, I picked her up and she wasn’t afraid. Maybe Captain messed with her brain. I frown. Unlikely, but the idea makes my skin crawl. I edge through the trees to the back of this largest one. The five or six kids back around this shady side of the tree scatter when they see me, several gasps following.
Dramatic.
The tree isn’t exactly climbable, but I see where the kid must have climbed. Knobby bumps of wood protrude here and there on this side of the tree, some scrape marks that could easily be from shoes scrambling up. It’s not going to be a very stable climb, but when I dig my fingertips and toes of my boots into the holds, it isn’t going to be impossible.
I probably should just learn to mind my own business.
Glancing up, I can’t catch sight of Bat, but I’m certain he’s up there somewhere. Checking my surroundings, none of the adults can see me and I’ve frightened away the children, so no one’s watching. I scale about two thirds of the trunk in a minute or so, and check below to find Yvonne has rounded the tree and has her arms folded at me. She waves. Even from here, I think I see her smirking.
Zane and Lalia would never let this go. Might have to bribe Yvonne and Anya not to bring this up. I’ve found myself missing the siblings at random points during the day. Not going to bring that up either, but their easy joy and snippy comments are missing from the trip.
My hands are only minority aching by the time I grab the bottom of the branches and seat myself on one. My toes are a little annoyed too. I wiggle them aggressively in the toes of my boots. Above me, I see a pair of eyes staring at me. I don’t want to shout at him, so I maneuver through the nest-like branches, not in danger of falling now I’m up in the thick of it. I could find a place to sleep up here and be in no danger of falling out. The middle is practically a nest in the direct center of the trunk, but the kid’s out on the outermost branches, thinner and less likely to hold my weight. He had to go all the way out there.
I crouch on the closest branch and feel it crack beneath my boot.
