They are heavy.
Chapter 8: Looted
Jimmy and Pix spent
the next day pretending they were safe. It started off easy enough –
there was just the occasional supersonic screech of tacjets going
overhead, leaving behind faintly visible contrails – white
spreading lines against the darkness of the Armory ceiling, lit up
like greenish veins by the omnipresent green glow. But then the
battle intensified: Distant booms became chattering became something
only heard in historical and faux-parks.
Jimmy ignored it.
Mostly.
When
the time came to rest, Pix pointed at a small semi-circle of piled
up...well, Jimmy wanted
to
say guns. They looked like guns. But they were also clearly made by
the Architects: Their material, their greenish crystalline studs,
their alien and yet familiar look. Until he was told otherwise, Jimmy
was going to call them guns, and they were piled up in a semi-circle.
Pix glanced from the circle to him,
raising an eyebrow curiously. Jimmy nodded, and together they walked
inside the protective circling. Sitting down, Jimmy put his
flashlight handle first on the ground, then pushed the edge of the
frame down, revealing the glowrod within, turning it from a
flashlight to a lamp. Pix leaned back on her palms. "We are so
lucky it's not too cold in here."
"Yeah. Lucky.
Really, have we been lucky since Friday?"
"No, not
really, no." Pix leaned her head forward. "It's, uh, Sunday
night. It feels like we've been walking and running for more than a
year."
"A lifetime?"
"The time it
takes to read the original translation of Lord of the Rings."
Pix snorted.
Jimmy scooted over
and leaned his head against her shoulder. She smiled and they leaned
on one another, looking up at the sky. There were striations to the
darkness, ranging from purple to pure deep deep black – those were
broken up only by the unnatural streaks of rockets and tacjets flying
overhead. But it seemed that the Slor and the Yettel were thinking
along the same lines as they were – the battle's sounds slowed
down, growing quieter and quieter as they looked at the sky.
Pix sighed. "I
never knew a big splotch of blackness could look so pretty. Let alone
with all the killing things flying around in it."
Jimmy smiled. "I
never knew a girl could look so pretty. Till I was fourteen. Which is
four years ago. So, really, this is a terrible way to compliment you.
Just the worst."
“Yeah, it was
pretty bad,” Pix said, nodding solemnly.
“How will I make
it up to you?” Jimmy asked.
“Gold,” Pix
said. “Gold doubloons. Huge ones. Like, easily this big.” She
spread her hands wide.
“W...What would
you do with them?”
“Throw them at you
for not complimenting me properly. Duh.”
Later, they slept,
spooning up against one another for warmth – the Armory not being
cold didn't make it “warm.”
With his eyes closed and the sounds of the battle fading into
silence, all that Jimmy could do was focus on Pix. He smelled
her. He felt her. His hand was over her hand, resting on her belly.
He tried to think of anything but sex. It was surprisingly easy, as
tired as he was. Was this growing up? Was he growing up?
He sure as heck
hoped not.
Sex was fun.
###
"Okay, Edna
says we're about a half a days walk away!" Pix grinned at Jimmy
as he fished around in his jacket pockets for more food. He bit his
lip. Anna's jacket. Not his.
He found a nutribar
and scowled. "I think this is the last one..."
Pix grinned. "You
take it."
"No."
"Yeah. I can
last longer without food."
"Well, I'm not
hungry."
"Neither am I!"
"Just shut up
and e-"
They walked around a
corner and into five or so Yetel who had their guns aimed right at
em.
"Eat."
Jimmy finished, even as Pix thrust her hands into the air.
###
In old and new war
movies, the one thing everyone seemed to forgot to film was the part
where the soldiers robbed you blind. First, they took Jimmy's jacket.
Anna's jacket. Whatever. Then one of them started to pat Pix down,
fishing things out of her pockets and the various hidden nooks and
crannies that Pix had all over her person – Jimmy wasn't sure if it
was part of her clothes, or if she had cybernetic compartments. In
the end, they got a pile of things that had once belonged to Jimmy
and Pix set up, and the soldiers started to sort through it.
While they did so,
the one Yetel with a translator- Jimmy didn't know Yetel insignia but
he was guessing it was something around Sergeant- started to question
them.
"Who are you!
Where are you from? Why are you here? Are you partisans? Mercenaries?
Criminals? Answer me!"
Jimmy had not been
planning on not answering his questions, but the presence of the
three or so guns aimed at his face made it easier to come up with
answers off the top of his head.
"I'm Jimmy and
that's Pix."
Pix waved, keeping
her hands above her heads.
"We're from the
PS-1...uh, City-18." Jimmy gestured in the vague area of the
sewage systems. How far away was he from home? How were dad and mom
coping? Did they think he was dead? He felt that, no matter how many
guns he aimed at the universe, he'd never get an answer to those
questions until this adventure was over.
The Yetel jerked
with his gun. That motion needed no translation. Jimmy continued:
"And, uh, we're here cause we...well, it's kinda a long story."
One of the Yetel
said something that wasn't translated. The Sergeant tapped his
translator then spoke back. They exchanged a few words while the
other Yetel finished stuffing their pockets with everything they
wanted. It left the pile o' stuff much smaller than before.
"Can you at
least leave the gun?" Jimmy asked. The Sergeant glared at him.
In the end, the Yetel left behind a can of Yetel rations, a can
opener, and then they trooped off, heading towards where the big
booms were coming from – the battle had started up again.
"Well, at least
we're still alive. And not in a prison camp! Win win!" Pix held
up Jimmy's jacket as Jimmy shoved the stuff they had left into the
pockets. When he slipped the jacket back on, it was way lighter and
way more comfortable. But, if he had the choice between lighter and
more alive, he'd choose the alive part.
He shook himself.
"There is that."
Pix stepped back and
stroked her chin, still holding the can of rations. "You do cut
a dashing figure in that."
Jimmy sighed,
shoving his hands in his pockets. "I still feel like a thief and
a graverobber."
"I'd rather
feel guilty than be dead." Pix sighed.
"How many
horrible things have happened to the human race because of people who
said things like that?" They started to walk, Pix making the
'wiggle fingers' gesture that meant she was updating Edna on their
situation.
"Uh." Pix
cocked her head. "Edna says to keeping going straight. She says
we have a thirty percent of surviving."
"Sweet."
"And to answer
your question...lots."
###
"Oh. Wow."
Pix put down the binoculars and looked at Jimmy. "This is what
we've walked through a warzone for? This epic, amazing city of hidden
crime, where the scum and villainy of the entire ship meets for their
nefarious planning and so on."
"Yup."
Jimmy took the binoculars and started to scope it out.
"It's a shack."
"Yup."
"With an old
Urtish sitting in front of it, smoking a medicinal."
"Yup."
"A SHACK!"
Pix reached over and started to shake him.
Jimmy put down the
binoculars as he rocked back and forth, closing his eyes. "Actually,
it's more of a box. A big blue box."
"Yeah, a-"
She stopped shaking him so she could grab the binoculars back and
looked through them. “Well, really, it's more of a rectangle if you
ask me.”
Jimmy shrugged. "Ask
Edna if we need to know anything or if we can just head right there."
Pix nodded. Her
antennas sparked.
A bullet slammed
into the ground and bounced up. The binoculars exploded into a cloud
of fragments – most of them flying straight up into the air, rather
than backwards. Pix yelped, clapping her hands to her face. Jimmy
reached for the gun that wasn't there, then grabbed Pix and yanked
her behind what little cover they had ontop of the thingy they were
laying on. Another bullet bounced off their cover with a flash of
sparks.
"Are you
okay?!" Jimmy shouted.
"Do I look
okay!?" Pix held her hand to her forehead, blood streaming down
her forehead and into her eyes. "The binoculars exploded! Jimmy,
can we go anywhere without something exploding!? "
Jimmy gently pried
her hand away from her forehead and winced. "That's gonna hurt."
Pix described
exactly what Jimmy could do with his diagnostic skills and where he
could put them. The sniper, the Xorquin doubtlessly, was holding back
on his shooting. Jimmy peeked around the corner just long enough to
try and get a bead on the Urtish sitting before the entrance to
Tortuga. He looked completely unconcerned, as much as a tiny figure
in the distance could look unconcerned. There had been no really loud
crack of a gunshot, so maybe the gun was silenced or something. A
bullet whined past his head and Jimmy ducked back down. He had no
idea where the shot had come from
Pix, who was still
hissing and holding her forehead, glanced at him. "Great, great.
Relative safety and all we have to do to get to it is sprint across,
what, a billion miles of open ground, right into a bullet?"
"Looks like."
Jimmy sighed. "And the Yetel took all the smoke grenades. The
Yetel took all the grenades, period!"
Pix closed her eyes.
Jimmy rummaged around, but the Yetel had taken the bandages too.
Shit! Oh, wait, a tissue. He put the tissue over Pix's wound and she
sighed.
"Hey!" she
suddenly shouted. "Urtish?"
Jimmy gaped at her.
Then the Urtish
shouted back. He wasn't translated.
"You have a
translator?" Pix shouted.
"Yup. Why you
yellin over there?" The Urtish's translator, fortunately, was
able to enhance its volume to match the Urtish's shout.
"Cause we're
getting shot at!"
"I didn't see
no bullets."
Pix rolled her eyes,
pressing the tissue against her bleeding forehead even harder. She
shifted so that she could shout over the edge of their cover: "It's
a silenced sniper rifle. Listen, we sorta kinda need help."
In the pause before
a response, Jimmy peeked around the corner and saw movement near the
'horizon' of piled guns that spread along the ground across from
their cover – a greenish, blurry speck. The Xorquin. And he was
moving. Towards them. "Pix!" he hissed. "Xorquin,
coming this way."
"How much is my
help worth to you?" The Urtish asked.
"LOTS! Lots and
lots! Also, the big bad who's shooting at us is heading your way."
Jimmy peeked again.
Now the Urtish looked like he was holding a big old gun. Either that
or he was holding his chair over his head.
Jimmy ducked back
and the bullets started flying every which way. The Urtish's machine
gun wasn't the loudest gun Jimmy had ever heard, but it sure took the
cake in terms of bullet to air ratio. The shooting and banging and
exploding went on for what seemed like forever, but Pix swore up and
down it was less than five minutes.
Then: "Hey!
Hey! He ran away."
The Urtish sounded
absurdly offended by this.
Jimmy peeked out.
The Urtish waved at him. Jimmy gulped. "Okay, Pix," he
said. "If I get shot in the face, this was a real bad idea."
He stood up, eyes
closed. He waited for the big bang and the white flash that lead down
to death boulevard.
Nothing. He opened
one eye. The Urtish ambled over towards them. He was a bit lanky for
one of his kind, and...yes, his chair doubled as a machine gun. How
cool was that?
"So, that'll be
three hundred credits." The Urtish smiled up at him. Jimmy
blinked.
"Um, if I were
broke..how would that affect this situation?"
The Urtish laughed
and aimed the machine gun at him. "It makes this a bit more
interesting."
###
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