By David C. Daoust
Harper didn’t know how she got there. Sand in her toes, powdering her bare legs… How’d she get in the middle of the desert in nothing but her nightgown? Harper was agitated, she was worried, she wasn’t sure why. ‘Her mother was going to kill her,’ that thought sat there in the middle of her brain as she studied her surroundings, did a full three sixty, nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. She spun back around and found a rock face… that made more sense somehow.
She found a fairly small rock at its base… like a step.
She tested the rock with her foot, tried to put her weight on it. It held. She stepped on up, another was just a step away, slightly higher, and another after that. She started climbing the stairs; the cold metal steps would lead to the cockpit. She really aught’a know who was driving this thing. She could feel the rumble of the engine, the sudden jerk… she stretched her hand out and caught the railing.
The worry was like a pit in her stomach.
Ratchet was there to steady her, helped her up onto the upper platform. She thanked him with a smile as she brushed on by. The hall seemed so long. Who could be driving this thing? Another jounce and she caught the wall. She turned to tell Ratchet she was okay, but he was gone. He went to see Sadie. She should go see her. She was hurt pretty bad.
The clicking was all around her, tiny little things. Toy spiders, fat metal robots with eight legs. They were crawling on the walls, the ceiling…the floor… she kicked one as she continue on her way. They were such tiny little things. Stupid things were everywhere. They had been for awhile. How could such stupid things affect her so?
She was on the bridge. The man at the helm wasn’t right. The speaker, Harper couldn’t think of his name. He was in shadow, he was always in shadow. He was at the controls though, and she heard her mother’s voice. Harper froze, still scared how her mother may react. She was responsible.
“Yeah, our poor little Harper,” her mother said, seemingly, just around the corner- Harper couldn’t tell who she was talking to though, “She gave him an opening though… and boy, did he jump into the light.” Then after a pause,” I don’t know, honey, she just didn’t know better…”
Honey? Was that her Dad around the corner?
“Daddy?” Harper rushed forward, fear forgotten. She didn’t find anything but a view-screen. She must have been talking to him over… yeah ‘cause he’s off-moon… where’d her mother go? She just heard her. She heard that conversation before. She glanced back at the man at the controls, always in shadow- Even when he jumped into the light.
Harper was looking for something, she couldn’t rest…
She had to see Sadie. She’s with Ratchet. Ratchet will know how to help her… what was she trying to do? She was responsible… her mother was… just…
The shadow was there at her side. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t know how to get rid of it. It led the way. There was a light in front of her, something didn’t feel right. Danali… that was his name… he was at the controls because of her.
Sadie was still sleeping in the medical bed… Ratchet was across from her, in a separate bed. The light had done its work, now she was stuck waiting; waiting for them to wake up. The worry was there in her stomach. What these people had done to her family, to her sister. She had to find them.
Stupid little spiders were crawling over the top of the medical bed… Harper rushed over and smacked them off- Did the same for Ratchet’s.
All of Grady was out in the starport. Congregating, making decisions that would affect all their lives, for years to come. Why did she speak up?
She was looking down on the crowd, from the window above. How many of them did this to her sister…? How many would have joined in, if they had been there? How many would have tried to stop it? The shadow passed from above, the whole port suddenly fell to darkness. Like night, like black noon. Like when the sun winked out, and that man cried out. She could hear his voice again. He was crushed. He’d brought down the heavens… all he asked for was punishment, for chains.
The sheriff was there, grabbed her by the arm. She knew she was guilty, so she didn’t fight. Her head was down as she was paraded through the milling crowd. She didn’t want to look at them. She didn’t want to see the hate on their faces. Hate that she knew was there. Why did she say that?
She was in a cell. In a really uncomfortable seat, at least she was dressed. She shifted her weight, tried to get comfortable. She couldn’t rest. Her eyes blinked open and she found the bridge through a haze… made out figures around her… they were all familiar; her eyes fell on the smallest ones.
“There you are…” Harper said softly to the small girls nearby.
“Harper’s awake!” Dicey called out… then a moment later, “Oop –wait, maybe not.”
Harper slipped back into darkness.
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