Tool

Chapter Twelve

Hesitantly, Aurelia stepped over the rim of the airlock and into the dome. Inside, she saw tents scattered around and signs of cooking, clothes hung upon makeshift clotheslines. There was a group of men sitting in the center in a small clearing playing some kind of game with wooden balls. Piles of tokens on the ground indicated that they were gambling.

"Got a worker," grumbled Gray beard, walking into the clearing, Aurelia following.

The men looked up. They didn't exactly appear friendly—more grizzled, maybe—but they didn't look particularly threatening either. Mind you, thought Aurelia, I'm not especially threatening, myself. It wasn't like they needed to be worried about a lone girl.

"Bryn sent me," she said, her voice clear and sounding braver than she felt.

Gray beard nodded. "Sit down, then. Coffee?"

Aurelia almost laughed. She was in a portable dome in the middle of Mare Nowhere, breaking the law and away from anything she'd ever known, and he was offering her coffee? Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded, and a hot cup was soon thrust into her hand. The men stared at her, their game abandoned, but said nothing. Gray beard was obviously their leader.

"Bryn got a message?" Gray beard asked, squatting on the floor next to her, a cup of his own in his hand.

Aurelia shook her head. She took a drink and was pleasantly surprised to find that the coffee was good, strong. "I'm looking for someone, and he said you might be able to help me."

"He did, did he?" Gray beard's massive eyebrows raised a half centimeter. "Who you looking for?"

"He's a clone. His name's Nicholas. Should have come this way a couple of days back."

Gray beard looked at the men around him, almost as though he were asking permission, then he gave a curt nod. "We've seen him. What of him?"

"I need to talk to him. But first I have to find him."

Gray beard sighed and sat fully on the ground. "What you want might not be easy."

Aurelia drank again, letting the warmth of the coffee fill her. "It's important," she said. "Or I wouldn't be here."

Gray beard laughed at that, a deep, rumbling sound. "You don't exactly look like you belong among the likes of us."

"Will you help?" He didn't seem like a bad guy, but there was definitely something going on here. A factor she couldn't put her finger on.

Again, Gray beard looked at the others. "We're a group," he said. "We have to decide together."

Really? So she had to persuade a whole handful of men to help her. Fantastic. The lack of sleep was beginning to get to her, despite the coffee, and she was getting cranky. "Fine," she said, standing. "I guess I'll go back out there and, you know, walk around the entire surface of the moon until I find him."

"Sit down," Gray beard said. "I didn't say we wouldn't help you. But first we need to know why. Who are you, and why do you need this friend you're looking for?"

Hmmm. Decision time. She could, of course, tell them lies. Make something up. She could also tell them the truth, that she was part of the resistance. She wondered which story would make them more likely to trust her. Taking a gamble, she went with the truth—or at least part f it.

"I'm in the resistance. The friend is one of our operatives who thought he was in danger and came out. I'm here to bring him back. His life is safe." For the second or two of silence that followed her words, she cringed, hoping she wasn't about to be arrested or beaten or anything else.