<<I won’t be taking May off of the site, like I did last year. Last year I was really burnt out after doing this site every week for two years. This time, I don’t really feel that way. It might be ’cause it was just one year… So maybe next May! Or maybe I’ll just burn out another month. We’ll see. ty,DD >>>
By David C. Daoust
Harper nodded with a grim solid lip as she paused to take in the sight of the towering wide wall of the Starport. She knew most of the moon’s population was in there. She also knew that her sister was laid up in a medbay after being beaten by some of those same people. She nervously stood there, filled with an awful doubt and apprehension. Her friend, Ratchet, stood next to her, cradling his broken fist in his other hand. Once Ratchet had hurt himself by punching the cast iron innards of their current project (a junk-bot to house a new data-sphere they’d come accross) her mother had changed her mind about allowing Harper to go to the Starport.
Farah allowed Harper to accompany Ratchet to get his injury treated, leaving her mother to locate the rest of her children alone. Harper got to go where she wanted to go- To see to her injured sister, that’s all she cared about. It was with that thought, that she found the gumption to lead the way in.
Harper and Ratchet entered through the wide double doors that granted access to the inner hallways of the high-tech facility. Twin Crown’s Starport, was built on the edge of one of the largest ‘permanent’ oasis of the small desert moon, logically built there by the droids that had terraformed the moon, to help meet possible human settlers’ needs. The outer walls of the massive structure, that encircled the wide landing bay, were made up of extra facilities. Mostly it provided space for the droids, and their repair, but also the medical facilities that were as much a staple of the Arks- as the droids that pocked the Onion. All of which built to help the people of the Second Sun, live out their lives in relative comfort. The same Medical facilities, which the citizens of Grady had walled off and taxed- which in turn left most of the roving First Wave without accessible medcare; Something that had always been a right to those that had lived among the City-Stations. And, indeed, for all the generations that lived out their days throughout the entirety of the ‘Ark-Age’.
For the two First Wave teens it became a question of where, exactly, these medical facilities were actually located within said Starport. The pair found themselves at a wide picture window, looking out over the landing area. People were milling about, still discussing plans for the moons future. Plans that did not involve the ‘Confederation’ that ruled over most of the Onion. Harper was not sure what the changes entailed. Ratchet’s father was actually leading the First Wave in the venture. All Harper understood was that Mr. Haul, working with the UM rep Mr. Denali, was trying to help the ‘newly homeless’ of Grady. It sounded right. In fact, it was what she had advocated, in the moons darkest hour.
“There,” Ratchet pointed out, just as Harper spotted the big Red Cross, clear on the other side of the bowl. “That’s probably where Sadie is.”
Harper didn’t give a second thought to Ratchet’s indifference to his own injury. They were there for Sadie, they both knew it. Ratchet just made a good excuse for them to slip free of Harper’s anxious mother as she went into lock-down mode in response to her eldest child’s injury.
The pair of youngsters stampeded down a couple short flights of stair, to meet recklessly with another door, and out they shot into the throng of constituents. The nervousness she’d felt faded as she found herself surrounded by more than just the dark drab colors of Grady, she found First Wave pocked the crowd, all of them chatting, wheeling and dealing.
Harper did not feel that fear of ‘inevitable war’, that she felt from her home, when she first heard of her sister’s attack. Because they weren’t ‘all like that’- she’d said it herself, and she believed it heartily. She could not say, those of the First Wave, were not ‘all like that’, without also conceding that not all of Grady, were not ‘all like that’ as well. This made sense in her mind. It made her right, it made the universe make sense, and it made her feel safe.
It was with that feeling of safety, that she first saw the cold hate-filled visage of ‘Charles the First’ walking hard and fast through the crowd. His head was down, like a bull in charge, eyes darkened by his furrowed brow, he was not registering anyone as he passed. The teenager did not notice Ratchet as he voiced ‘uh-oh’ next to her, nor the half-wave she used to try and catch his attention as he charged past them. His eyes were locked on a young man in the distance, who was currently buying a corn-dog from a vendor.
Ratchet suddenly sped up, ducking and weaving through the crowd, trying not to lose sight of his brother, Harper followed close behind. No one else had noticed Charles’ anger as he shot like a missile through the crowd, his shouldering and elbowing, dismissed as just a rude teenager in a hurry. That missile was on target though, its payload was within his balled fist, and ground zero was Jessop’s currently guffawing mouth as he traded jokes with the small group of friends that surrounded him.
Harper had never seen someone get hit so hard. Jessop’s feet flew clear off the ground, the young man’s head was forced much farther right then it was intended to go. The young man’s face collided with the concrete landing bay. Two of his friends reacted swiftly, by holding Charles back before he could do any more damage.
Charles’ eyes were wild, as they struggled with his arms. It was clear he had no beef with the two that held him, all his ire was still focused on the young man holding his jaw from his newfound position on the ground. Charles pulled away from them, and backed off a step. The two men stood between them, but they did not hold Charles back anymore.
Harper could not make out all of what it was Charles was saying to Jessop as she approached; Charles had seethed it low, and full of hate. She heard something about thinking they can keep First Wave girls on the side, but it was just a tidbit, sounded like nonsense. Harper had no idea what it meant, or where he had heard something like that.
All those around them were watching as the young redheaded teen shot daggers at the man on the ground. Harper, though, got a clear view of Jessop as he returned to his feet. The look on his red and swelling face was that of bewilderment, not the anger Harper had feared she would witness. That is, until he came in closer to his attacker, got his bearings, and his jaw-line solidified, his face changed to that of a cold snake before he asked, “What business is it of yours?”
“Oh, out here having a blast,” Charles shot back with a gesture to the man’s corn-dog on the ground. “Without a care Sadie’s sleeping off the beating of a lifetime in the Medbay. You people don’t care about anyone but yourselves.”
“Wait, Sadie’s where?” Jessop’s face changed again, his eyes went dark with worry and his mind went somewhere else; a place of fear. Harper could tell this was the first he’d heard of it.
Jessop spun on his heel and left.
Charles was left just standing there as the young man dismissed him and his assault, now that he was consumed with more pressing matters. Jessop’s friends followed behind as the crowd broke up and people went about their business.
Ratchet approached his brother, but Harper felt apprehensive.
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