Didi and the Gunslinger

Chapter 9: Taken By An Underlord

Didi's fears compress her, push her down to sit in one of the chairs, an overstuffed affair that smells faintly of oil and some kind of chemical cleaner used to hide the scent. She can't speak, can't hardly think, but Pip does both for her.

"An Underlord?" The crow ruffles his feathers in shock, a few sticking out at odd angles in response to his unrest. "How can that be? Since when did an Underlord move into Trash Heaven?"

Murta's expression tells Didi the crow is an annoyance, even more so when she turns to address Didi instead of the fluttering creature. "We'd be foolish to assume a place like this is immune to the touch of the Underlords. What with all the valuables people call trash, this planet is a haven for criminals looking to capitalize on such throwaways."

Didi nods slowly, weirded the woman sounds so certain of such things. She comes from a distant territory, though, closer to Trash City, so she'd know. "Why would an Underlord take interest in Dad?"

Putter sighs as he sinks his old body onto the wide, burnt orange sofa. It creaks under him, one leg half-snapped, supported by a stack of twisted metal plates. "Your father's tinkering and inventing must have caught attention at last." He pauses as if he has more to say before shaking his head, pale with a faint sheen of perspiration on his lined forehead and upper lip. He wipes at it absently with a stained handkerchief he fetches from under his worn jacket. Murta's upper lip curves, almost sneerlike, before settling again.

Didi must have seen wrong in her distress. "What's to be done?" She hates feeling without options, cornered like a trash rat hunted by waste snakes. She shudders, imagining one of the dark green creatures coiling around her, swallowing her whole. "Maybe the outpost? I could report him kidnapped to the Conjunction."

Murta snorts, crosses to sit on the arm of Didi's chair, strokes her hair. "I fear the Galactic Conjunction's reach is weak and useless out here, my dear girl." Didi's only seen one mechcop ever in her life, the robot peacekeepers of the galaxy collective burned into her mind. Towering, three-legged, loaded with weapons and not a scrap of compassion in their metal brains.

"Everyone knows the Underlords are the real rulers of the galaxy." Murta almost sounds proud of that fact. She clears her throat, still petting Didi's hair. She doesn't want to be rude, but the woman stinks of garlic and too much perfume, almost worse than the stench of the muck outside, truth be told. "And a place like this... well, I can tell you, more than just trash passes through this planet's atmosphere."

"Agreed, dear," Putter says. "I'm so sorry, Didi. But whatever your father was building, it has caught the attention of the worst possible sort."

Didi sinks back into the chair while Murta frowns at her husband.

"Let's just examine this a little," she says. "Seems to me there might be a way for Didi to get her father back and live in peace after all." She turns, her blue eyes locking on Didi who feels a faint wash of hope mixed with the fluttering feeling Murta isn't exactly a friend after all. "Things the way they are, if Didi can offer something more valuable, this Underlord could be swayed to let her father go."

More valuable? She doesn't even know what the Underlord was after in the first place. She stares into Murta's eyes, lost for an answer, while Putter surges to his feet, distracting them both. His face has twisted into concern, worry, fear. And, for a moment, Didi is sure he's going to speak.

Murta glares at him, eyes narrowed, while the old man's mind seems to settle. He offers a faint smile to Didi, a shrug to his wife. "If only there was something. But, until we know why Tarvis was taken..."

"What was he working on, sugar plum?" Murta turns to Didi. She can't stand it any longer, the woman's long, thin fingers sliding through her hair, nails scraping ever so softly over Didi's scalp and giving her the willies with each pass. She stands too, hugs herself as she paces back and forth. Pip rises, flaps to her, sits on her shoulder in his comforting place.

"Another foolish invention." Didi lets it go at that. "Nothing of his ever works, don't you see? Well, it might work, but not in a way that's helpful. This Underlord has made a terrible mistake. Dad's inventions are as useless as Pip."

The crow flaps his wings in protest.

Murta doesn't seem happy with that answer, but Putter speaks first. "I hope you're wrong this time, dear," he says, mournful and low. "Underlords aren't known for their patience or compassion. If he can't deliver what is believed to be offered, his life won't last much past discovering the truth of it."

Murta nods, chewing her bottom lip. "Child, you're certain there's nothing to the machine he's building?"

Didi shakes her head. "Not certain, no. For all I ken, Dad's on to the greatest discovery in the history of the galaxy." That would be something, wouldn't it? Her father, a success at last. "I can't know, because the machine is gone, along with the ability to examine it."

Murta sweeps toward her, tries to embrace her, but Pip's beak snaps set the woman back a pace with a grimacing smile. "There must be a way." She turns to Putter. "Surely we can find a way to help this poor girl."

He grunts, shoulders hunched forward. "I've failed my friend, it seems." Just a mutter, almost a whisper, as though not intended for them. When he speaks again, his voice is stronger. "You can't go home, Didi. It's too dangerous."

Her whole body rejects his words in an instant, feet carrying her forward, toward the door, before she forces herself to spin back and face the old couple. The dim light filtering through the filthy plastic dome makes them seem feeble and weak, just like Didi is feeling.

"Of course I'm going home," she says. "Then I'm gathering my things and hopping the mag rail and going to Trash City."

"My dear girl," Putter says, choking on the words, "you won't find him alone."

"And you two won't help, I reckon?" She waits for his response, surprised when Murta speaks first.

"Stay with us," she says, holding her hands out to Didi, a smile strained and tight on her face. "We'll do what we can to find out where your father is. Maybe go further, make contact with the Underlord, find something to trade."

Putter sputters but his wife waves him off.

"Don't be naïve," she snaps. "I know more of these things than you. My people have had dealings with the folk in Trash City." Her imploring tone returns, focusing on Didi. She wavers slightly as Murta goes on. "Let us try, sweetness, before you go out there into danger alone."

It's tempting. She's afraid, and she has no one to help her. But Putter and Murta aren't the kind of allies she needs. Not when an idea so radical and almost painfully exciting races through her chest and hits her heart with a blow.

"Thank you," she says, gasping the words in the aftermath of her idea. "I have to go." Didi spins and darts out the door, feet thudding on the wet ground now firming as the full heat of the day embraces her. She ignores the sound of Murta calling her name, races for the bridge, only slowing her pace, panting and exhausted, when she's crossed.

The sludge oozes past as she follows the edge of the stream, plopping and gurgling as it passes over trash, the height of the moisture lowered in the rising temperature. Didi pauses to sip some water through her mouth guard, savoring the clean taste around the vile backwash of the air's flavor before hurrying on.

Pip flies ahead, wings silent but for the occasional flap as he rides the heated air. She can't tell him what she has planned. He'll never let her do what needs to be done. And she's not even sure her idea is possible.

But she knows in her heart it's the best option. She needs backup, someone to watch over her while she hunts for her father. And she can only think of one way to accomplish that.

When she reaches home, she pauses on the edge of the clearing she and Dad made, a safety ring of visibility around the house. Putter and Murta said she might be in danger here. And while she doesn't believe that's true, well, there's no need to rush into anything without checking things first.

The protections seem active, no sign of intruders. Pip floats forward and lands on the ground near the front door, head c****d to one side. He clacks his beak at her, fluttering his wings. She takes his word for it, easing forward, looking around. Then shakes off her anxiety.

She will not be afraid. She can't afford its crippling control.

The interior of the house feels still and dull without Dad's energy, but she's happy to be home. Perched on a stool in her lab, Didi's mind whirls while she holds Pip in her lap and strokes his feathers while he leans against her, silent still. She's sure this is the longest the bird has gone without speaking since she turned him into a cyborg and she misses the sound of his constant chatter.

"What are we going to do, Didi?" His whisper makes her feel worse. Pip, she realizes, might be a little thundercloud of doom and gloom but he's never sounded defeated before.

She knows what she wants to do. "I just wish I knew what the Underlord would want with Dad." Could he have invented something worthwhile after all? Her dad?

"Tell me we're not going to the city." He looks up at her, red eye bright.

"Pip," she says, hands settling on his small body. "We are not going to the city."

He nods, settles in her lap again. "We'll be okay. And Tarvis will be back. You'll see."

She carries him to his perch, the stuffed bed she made for him, lays him out on it. Pip's eyes drift closed as she hums the song she remembers from childhood, though not the source, and lets him rest.

She really should just shut him off, leave him here powered down. Because if she doesn't come back, Didi has no idea what will happen to him alone out here. It would be the kind thing to do, to just let him go. Because she told him the truth. They aren't going to the city.

But she is.

She can't bring herself to release him, to turn off his power and let him go. She stands there for a long time, staring down at the crow who has been her only friend. He'll only argue, get in the way. And she needs all her wits about her if this plan is to work.

Didi leaves him there at last, the sun setting over her world, quietly exiting the house and resetting the protections. He'll be able to leave, to make his own way. There's enough food around he'll survive. And who knows, maybe the next time he tries to join the crow murder, they'll have him.

If her idea works, she'll come back for him. Hopefully not alone.

The night time quiet engulfs her as Didi heads for the edge of her territory and the cargo hold where all her hopes lay waiting.

***