The Scavenge

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"What's going on? You're totally holding out on them!"

"We can explain," Holly says, heading the group on our trip up the stairs. "And by we, I mean Tes, because I'm not fully on board."

I hand them my notebook so they can see our conversation. They have trouble reading it while keeping their footing, but they must get the gist of it.

"You don't think you can trust them? That's outrageous!"

"I mean, I get where she's coming from. Strangers are trying to take away our only way back to where we belong, knowing full well what power Aurora apparently has."

"But don't you two want to help us, too?"

"Of course we do, Sola. That's why we're still going to loan Aurora out. But our number one goal is to get back home. You have to understand that."

"I mean, I guess. Anyway, since we've got some time, I figured I could take the two of you up with me for a short scavenging trip. I have to get at least something productive done today."

"You want us to go up to the surface with you? Where the galvaknights are?"

"Eh, they're rarely a worry. It's a small enough section of the town, there's only a few left roaming."

"Why aren't they gone? You said it's been like twenty years."

"Good question. Maybe some were programmed to stay and finish the job."

We finish our ascent in silence. Nobody likes thinking about the killer robots.

"Leaving it to the two of you," Sola says, picking up the conversation when we finally emerge from the lower level. "Frankly, I could use the company. Wandering for hours up there all alone does a number on your psyche."

"Yeah, why not," Holly pants. "You wanna go too, Tes?"

I balance my options. It's either be stuck down here with my thoughts or go back up and be stuck with real, destructive robot killers.

I shrug.

"That's the spirit," Sola says, interpreting that as a yes. "Now, remember, if there's a chance we're going to be compromised, follow this simple acronym that I like to call 'DEAR': Drop Everything And Run."

"How reassuring."

"I do my best. Come on, to the surface we go."

"Hold on," Holly says, still panting. "I need a break."

"What did you do before you showed up here? Sit all day?"

"Well, we were at school eight hours a day, so yes."

"Y'all aren't even adults? Man, does the universe ever have it out for you?"

"We haven't been living underground hiding from robots for twenty years."

"But you are now, aren't you?"

Checkmate, Holly.

We regain our energy and start climbing again. My legs are burning, and my lungs are in mutual agony.

There's still no sun in the sky, but the brightness takes a long time for my eyes to adjust to properly. The purple hues are brilliant, if not a little unsettling against the ashy ground beneath our feet.

"Alright," Sola whispers, "we're going to go find a quiet place to do some digging. There's an old Nazrod factory half a mile away. We can fish for some spare parts."

We stare at them blankly.

"Come on. Nazrod? Fish? That was a good pun."

"We don't know what a Nazrod is."

"You've never gone fishing?"

"A fishing rod?"

"Yeah. Nazrod's the company. They make—never mind, the moment's gone. Let's go."

With another half an hour of sneaking across the city on top of our stair climbing, it's easy to say I'm more than a little tired.

"Okay, try not to trigger any sensors or anything. Sometimes they're buried in places like this and have a bit of juice left. Then we'll have to DEAR on out of here."

"This all seems way too stressful," Holly says.

"Yep. Here, help me lift this old wall. There might be some stuff underneath."

The three of us work together to tip the wall up, which is surprisingly heavy. While Holly and I have it raised, Sola quickly grabs a heavy metal pole and props it up in the middle.

"That should do the trick. Rule of thumb is to stash away anything that looks remotely interesting."

We spend an hour digging in the first-floor ruins of the fishing rod factory and finding all sorts of little gizmos and trinkets. Holly even finds a fishing rod that's nearly complete. It's just missing the string.

When the violet hues of the sky turn more maroon, Sola decides it's time to pack up and get going.

"I wish I'd thought to bring you guys bags," Sola says, carrying all their stuff in what looks like a pillowcase.

"I guess we know for next time," Holly says, trying to keep things balanced. I myself have a collection of fishing rod handles that were too big for the bag, all lined up between my chest and arm.

"We're nearly done. All that's left is to drop this off at processing, where my mom works. She decides what's best for the stuff we find."

We descend the stairs to Omega Centauri. Aside from all the exertion, it wasn't too bad of a little trip. Almost peaceful, aside from the anxiety weighing down on us. Sola leads the way to processing, where one woman, presumably their mom, is sifting through a massive pile of scrap and junk. She sees us walking over and waves.

"Oh, my little Sola," she says, "are these the two you found on the surface yesterday?"

"Yeah, these are Holly and Tes. It's been a hard adjustment for them, but they're doing pretty well."

"Well, that's just great. How would you two like to join us for dinner at our house on Friday? I'll make sure we have more than enough to eat. It's not every day Sola makes new friends."

"Friday's in two days, by the way," Sola says. "They haven't really had a chance to grasp a concept of time yet. Far as I know, this is the first time we've even mentioned the day of the week."

"Tes and I will talk, but I would love to."

I give a thumbs up.

"Fantastic. Just give me a list of your allergies and I will accommodate. Did you have corn back when you came from?"

"That feels like such a silly question," Holly says, "but I get why you're asking. Yeah, we had corn."

"Alrighty, I'll see you then."

We branch off, Sola staying with their mom, while Holly and I head back to our house.

"They're right. I don't have a concept of time. It feels like it could be afternoon or midnight, with no in between."

That's how I'm feeling, too.

When we walk inside, Holly sets Aurora down, who seems like she's wearing out. Can a robot get tired? Is that because she's running out of power?

Once again, Holly takes charge of getting us food, popping something in the oven.

"Here's the deal," she says. "You're getting to bed tonight. There's no arguing with me. I had it last night, and tonight, I will take the floor."

The combination of me being exhausted and the alluring idea of sleeping on a bed again prevents me from arguing.

We eat in relative silence, neither of us having anything to say—no stories to tell, and no crazy experience that the other hasn't already been a part of. I head for the bedroom before she's even gotten around for the night, and I'm out in no time flat.

The Ruins of Alpha Centauri (The Tes Simms Anthology, Book 2)Where stories live. Discover now