Chapter 13: Thugs

She is forced to crouch behind a pile of wobbling ship innards and watch, fear and frustration in equal measure tearing her apart, as two more men emerge from her home. They stand in a circle beside a reasonably new skimmer, the dark blue paint scuffed on the right back end, one of the thrusters dented and rusted around the edge. She has never seen the two men with Jackus before. Strangers are rare in her parts, enough she takes notice of their bulky physiques, the way their leather coats, hanging to the tips of their pointed boots, seem new and manufactured, probably purchased. That means money, as does the skimmer, and the city, more than likely.

Her first fear Jackus is here for her, for revenge, fades as the three argue. He doesn't seem to be in charge. Are they looking for her? Not likely. More than anything, as their argument goes on, too distant for her to make out details, she begins to believe this is about Dad.

Surely these two thugs must work for the Underlord. But, if so, what are they after? They already have Dad's invention, not to mention the man himself. What's missing?

Pip chitters in her ear but, for once, knows to hold his tongue, cyborg eye whirring softly in her ear as he observes next to her. It's almost morning, the sun's rays penetrating the edge of the horizon, lighting the dense atmosphere with a spread of color almost too brilliant to describe. She lowers her goggles as the light cuts through her visibility, casting the men in shadow. She needs details if she's going to track them when she reaches the city.

If only she could reach that skimmer, she could plant one of her beacons on it, the same one embedded in the crow's chest, follow them that way. Or, she might be able to convince Pip to track them from the air. But, it's a long flight to Trash City from here and she's doubtful the small crow could keep up with a skimmer like that. Sure, they might be forced to go more slowly over the rough terrain, but they could still move at a good clip with their mags at full force, keeping them buoyant.

Before she can make up her mind, Jackus tosses his hands and turns his back. The lead bully, his forehead swept low over his thick, black brows, hair receding well past the middle of his head, steps toward her house and raises his hand.

There's nothing she can do, no matter if she had backup or not. Didi's reaction time is just too slow, the distance too great. The moment the man releases the canister in his hand, launching it into the front door of her home, he turns back to the skimmer and leaps inside, his companion with him. Jackus scrambles for the back seat, plas dome sliding into place. She gapes, mouth open, ducking at the last moment as instinct drives her to hide behind the trash.

The ground beneath her thrums, shudders, the garbage hovering over her wavering, dropping dust and debris down on top of her while a blast of heat so powerful she feels it despite the shelter of the discards washes outward in a physical wave of fury. The sound follows it, a deep, thundering boom that rattles her teeth together and sends her to her side. Arms tented over her head for protection, she curls into a ball while Pip squawks his protest and launches himself into the air.

When she's finally able to sit up, wiping sweat and dust from her face, ears ringing from the blast, the crow returns, chittering sadly as he rubs his cheek against hers. It takes a moment before she's able to hear what he's saying, and it's not good.

"All gone," he says, mournful and low. "All gone."

She knows what she'll find when she looks, intellectually has no doubt her house has been obliterated. But, her heart isn't ready, as much as her mind warns her to be practical about the whole thing.

The skimmer has left, the two men and Jackus long vanished. And, save for a smoking hole in the ground, so is the only place she's ever called home.

All of her tools, her spare clothes, the bits and pieces of her life, gone, incinerated by the flare grenade. She's only ever seen them in vids, part of her thinking they were just some wartime lie to scare the masses. She's had an education today in what the world out there can be like and she's not ashamed at last to admit she's terrified.

Doesn't mean she's a quitter. Just that, as she creeps forward onto the smoking, shattered wreckage around the crater of her house, she's able to cry and not feel badly about it. That, she tells herself, will have to be progress.

"Why?" Pip's tone of voice mimics her heart hurt exactly. He lands on her arm as she raises it without thinking. "Why would they do this?"

"I don't know," she says. "I surely don't. But, more important, what was Jackus doing with two hires of the Underlord?" Pip stares at her, beak open. "Come on, snackerel," she says. "Put two and two in their proper place. Who else but the Underlord's folks?"

He exhales in a shudder. "You think they were looking for us?"

Didi shakes her head, turns her back on home. Good thing she has the gunslinger's chip in her bag, the heart still tucked against her side in the plas container. And a generator. Some tools, like the laser pen, though the charge is near done. Will have to be enough, won't it?

"No," she says, walking away toward the path, "if it were me they were after, they'd have lain in wait, not blown home to sky heaven."

"Agreed," Pip says, sounding more relieved than she thinks he should under the circumstances. As for Didi, she's doing her best not to stop, fall to her knees, sob her heart out for the second time tonight. To put one boot in front of the other and keep herself moving. "So this is about Tarvis."

Her father's name mentioned makes it all the worse. She swears she won't turn around, that she needs to look ahead, but, at the last minute, as she rounds the corner that will lead her back to the gunslinger, Didi can't help herself.

She chokes on her tears, on the tightness in her throat, the burning in her eyes, forcing her to raise her goggles so she doesn't fog them with the heat of her tears.

Home. Done for. Maybe, like she's done for, like Dad is.

"Didi?" Pip nuzzles her with his beak. "We going?"

She sighs, nods, shoulders slumping. "No more arguing?"

He shrugs his feathered body. "Nowhere else to go," he says. "Unless we head back to Putter." Pip flaps his wings as Didi opens her mouth to protest. "Not saying we should. Only that it's an option."

"No option." Didi turns away from home, jaw set, lowering her goggles over her now-dry eyes. "We'll just see what kind of damage a gunslinger can do."

It's good to have Pip on her side for once, as he mutters his agreement. She just wishes he wouldn't stare back over her shoulder like that, as if he could will home back to creation. Because it makes her want to turn around and do the same thing.

He finally stops his constant backward surveillance, but doesn't make her feel any better when he speaks. "Jackus might not be looking for you," he says. "But that doesn't mean getting into his territory again will be an easy thing."

Didi doesn't want to think about that, though it's all her mind has pondered since she let go of home. She'll build a new one with Dad, bigger and better. There's some fresher modules dumped not too long ago she's been thinking would be nice additions to their place. The more she ponders it, the easier it is to consider this is a good thing, chance at a fresh start.

Once she resurrects the gunslinger after sneaking into Jackus's territory, finds and rescues Dad and stops the Underlord.

Now she's sounding like Pip.

He's fine with her plan to send him up into the sky, to scan for Jackus and his new friends as the sun rises fully over the edge of Trash Heaven. She's sweating all over again, lugging the extra weight of the heart and generator, but it's worth it when they reach the cargo hold without a sign of the squatter. Maybe things are heading her way just a bit more. It would be nice, for a change.

The inside of the hold is cool, the power cell keeping it alive using energy on the aircon, for which she is grateful. Didi closes the door after Pip who wings his way inside, straight to the nearest gunslinger's silent form. She lets him be, hurrying herself to the platform stairs, and the panel.

Pip caws softly when the door slides open, revealing the form of the gunslinger. She doesn't try to stop him when he flaps into the capsule and takes a perch on one silver knee.

"Big fella," he mutters.

"Size doesn't matter," Didi says, setting the plas case and generator on the floor behind the chair. "As long as he runs."

Pip hops up on the gunslinger's shoulder, peering over his back as Didi accesses the back panel again. She doesn't have the proper tools to clean the chamber, but the remains of the gunslinger's organic heart are now powdered to dust with exposure to air, so it's easy enough to blow on the interior and hope for the best. With her tongue firmly between her teeth for luck, Didi opens the case at her feet, the hissing sound of the seal breaking loud in the dull air, only the clack of Pip's beak and the tinkle of his cyborg claws on the gunslinger's metal shoulder breaking the silence.

"Now, the part that should be easy," she says. Her hands grasp the slippery heart and lift it, gooseflesh rising as it pulses once in her hand, a static charge racing over her skin under her clothes. The system to install the new heart should be automatic, if the schematics she's seen are accurate.

If not, she's out of luck. Attaching a heart to a cyborg is beyond her present tools and experience. Pip still had his own. With her breath held tight in her chest, she slips the wet, dripping mass into the chamber and lets go.

Nothing happens, aside from the firm muscle of the bore's heart sliding slowly down to settle on the bottom plate of the chamber, burping softly.

"Crud," Didi swears.

"What's supposed to happen?" Pip's eye whirls.

"The thing is supposed to take over," she says. Waves her hands in front of the chamber as though that will make it work. "Drub it, Pipster. Now what?"

He snaps his beak, head tilting, silent a moment. "Power's your issue," he says at last while she sags against the seat back. "Reckon?"

Didi smacks herself in the forehead before wincing at the fresh smear of blood. Then shrugs it off. Not like she's clean or anything. She probably looks like she's been bathing in blood and gore all night. Which, technically, she has. With careful precision, she wipes her hands on the outside of her gloves, then the legs of her tights, until the tips are clean, even spitting on the ends to make sure all the blood and dirt are gone. Never mind the chip's casing is tough and meant for battle, nor that it's been damaged already. But, it seems like she should take precautions, at least what she's able.

It's safe and sound in the small plas box in the bottom of her bag, buried under her water canister and the few food packs she has with her. Her stomach rumbles, reminding her it's been hours since she ate a speck of anything, but there's no time to think of her own wellbeing.

She has a gunslinger to wake.

Didi examines the chip with her goggles again. She'd meant to take the casing off, to clean the circuits and maybe see if she could replace a few. But, without her tools and the time she needs, she just has to trust that the chip will function well enough to make the heart pump.

His chest panel gapes as she circles around him, the gunslinger's head facing directly forward, eye slits black, silver body silent. Her fingers tremble as she replaces the chip she'd taken, pushing it firmly in place. It catches, sticking partially out, and it's then she realizes this is the way she found it. Someone had removed it, left it in place but not activated. Excitement softens her weariness and sense of dread like nothing else as she pushes harder against the slim chip, her thumb popping it finally into place.

She feels the rumble of his systems waking instantly, backs up and hustles around his seat to examine the heart chamber. Pip mutters in delight as the small chamber on his back wakes, light flickering around the edges, red and blinking, before turning blue. The heart shudders, a thin film of light flashing into place to cover the front of the chamber-the shielding his last heart was missing-as the bore's organic matter lifts into place and four suction tubes connect to the deflated arteries and veins.

Didi holds her breath as fluid begins pumping through the heart, wanting to squeal, to jump up and down, while the crow on the gunslinger's shoulder flaps his wings and caws.

"Well done, Didi," he says.

She spares him a tight grin. No time for losing herself to excitement just yet. Sure, he has a heart now. But that's about all. His body's vibration goes still again when she closes the panel and lets the machine take over.

"When does he wake up?" Pip's questions aren't helping. "Huh, Didi? Now? Or are we missing something?"

She waves at him to be still, chewing one fingernail before tossing her hands and exhaling all her frustration into the air.

It's the pressure change that warns her they aren't alone, or won't be, shortly. Didi spins, heart coming to a halt before beginning to pound a painful rhythm in her chest as she realizes someone has opened the door to the cargo hold.

***