The Travels of Scout Shannon Books 1-3

Chapter 10

10

Scout had already seen the tattoo. Warrior certainly knew of its existence whether or not she’d ever actually acknowledged it. It didn’t seem like it meant much to Clementine. But Viola and Liv recoiled as if it were a loaded weapon aimed at them.

“I vote we put her back outside,” Viola said. “Do you know how many of my friends and family you killed?”

“No, I don’t,” Ebba said, breaking Ruth’s hold on her wrist with a sharp twisting movement. Ruth hissed in pain and clutched her hand close to her chest with her other hand. Ebba may be old and long retired from the military, but clearly she was not frail or one to be bullied.

“The war is over,” Ottilie said, holding out her own arm for Warrior to inject. “Nothing to be gained by rehashing all that here.”

“What do you know about it?” Ruth demanded.

“Ebba was in communications,” Ottilie said. “There’s no blood on her hands. But mine?” She planted one fist on the table, flexing her bicep until they were all looking at her tattoo. “I know there’s blood on my hands. But it’s in the past.”

“Nothing is ever in the past,” Ruth said. “Everything about our lives today, everything is based on a foundation from yesterday. We can’t ignore that.”

“For the next four days you’re going to,” Warrior said, injecting first Ruth, then Clementine. The little girl didn’t even flinch. “We’re all going to be miserable enough without finding causes for squabbles.”

“Is she a Space Farer too?” Viola asked Liv in a low voice. Or tried to; she had drained enough glasses of amber liquid that her low voice wasn’t all that low anymore, especially pitched to carry halfway across the room.

“No, I’m not a Space Farer,” Warrior said before anyone else could speak. “I’m not from here.”

“Then where are you from?” Liv asked.

“I’m from a place a little nearer the galactic center,” Warrior said.

“And?” Liv prompted. Viola had set her glass down, arms folded as she waited to hear the answer. Ebba and Ottilie turned to look at Warrior as well. Only Clementine seemed uninterested, her gaze focused on her hands as her fingertips traced something on the tabletop.

“And I’m a galactic marshal,” Warrior finally admitted. “That’s not really anything that concerns any of you.”

“You have no jurisdiction here,” Ottilie said.

“True,” Warrior said.

“So why are you here?” Ottilie persisted.

“I’m tracking down a fugitive from justice,” Warrior said.

They all looked at each other nervously.

“Not one of you. Honestly, I just got caught out in the storm like the rest of you.”

“So that’s why you’re so bossy,” Ottilie said, nodding to herself.

Warrior just shrugged. “Do you want a dose?” she asked Liv, who rolled back one silken sleeve and raised her arm with an air of quiet dignity.

“Can I have some of that?” Liv asked Viola as she rolled her sleeve back down.

Viola bit her lip as she looked at her bottle but in the end just gave a curt nod. Liv lifted the hem of her shirt as if to clean off the mouth of the bottle, saw how filthy her shirt was, and let it drop. She took a long swallow from the bottle and set it back on the table, giving Viola a nod of thanks. Ebba and Ottilie were sitting at the far corner of the table, heads close together as they talked in low voices, their hands clasped together in a knot. Ruth was going through the stack of ration packets, occasionally showing one to Clementine, who would only shake her head no.

Viola went back to the bar to stroke the cat’s head, although Tubbins had gone to sleep long ago.

“Is he going to be okay?” Scout asked when Warrior came back to the bar.

“Maybe,” Warrior said, sounding tired. “Sleeping is normal. It takes a lot of energy to heal.”

Scout had a ton more questions, more about the galactic center than about the cat, and really wanted to know about the fugitive from justice that Warrior was hunting. Was it one of the rebels? But Shadow was pawing at her knee, a gesture she well knew the meaning of.

“I should take the dogs up the tunnel a bit,” she said.

At the word “dogs,” Girl began to thump her tail again, but hesitantly, as if she wasn’t sure if she was still in trouble or not.

“Not the tunnel,” Viola said, lurching away from the bar. She crossed one of the shelves and pulled out a tote, tossing the lid aside so she could dig through the contents. “Here,” she said, thrusting what looked like a folded blanket at Scout. Scout crossed the room to take it. It wasn’t a blanket; the surface felt papery, but it was thick and felt like it was full of beads. “Take them two rooms down that way,” Viola said, pointing to one of the doorways. “That’s where the cat goes. Have them go on this. I trust if it’s not liquid you’ll dispose of it yourself. There’s a toilet in the corner.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you,” Scout said. Viola said nothing, just stomped back to her cat. Scout gave a little whistle and the dogs followed her.

As soon as she stepped through the doorway, the room beyond detected her presence and the light came on. This room was rectangular, longer than wide, and used for storage—and, if anything, dustier than the octagonal room. She passed through the far doorway and another light came on. Now she was in a locker room with a few showers and toilet stalls in the far corner. Everything was built for function and durability only: not a single splash of color, just metal lockers, concrete walls, too-bright lights, and tile floors that had probably once been white but were fading to a gray that matched the concrete. Even the benches of molded plastic were gray; no faux-wood here.

She could smell the cat box from the doorway. So could the dogs. Shadow stopped in his tracks when she told him to leave it, but she had to grab Girl by the collar and pull her away. She spread the pad on the floor.

“Shadow, come here,” she said, pointing to the pad. He was hesitant, touching just a toe and then a paw before pulling away to sit down on the cold stone floor and look up at her questioningly. She patted the pad again and called him one more time. She could see in his eyes he knew what she meant, and if a dog could sigh, she was sure he would be doing that now. At last he stood up and came over to her and lifted his leg.

Girl was halfway back to the cat box and Scout had to catch her collar again and pull her over to the pad. She didn’t seem to mind the feel of it under her feet and once she saw what Shadow was doing, she followed suit.

When Scout and the dogs got back to the main room, everyone was in the process of putting together a meal on the long table. Viola’s bottle had been put away, and Ebba and Ottilie were setting out aluminum plates, cups, and flatware. The ration packets were nowhere to be seen. The room directly across from Scout was now lit up and she could see she had been right about what she heard. Three refrigerators stood in a row, one with a glass front through which she could see an array of beverages, including her favorite brand of jolo. As she drew closer she could see there was also a massive stove and a row of ovens. Ruth was in that corner, watching something cook inside a microwave.

Warrior and Viola were still at the bar with the cat, and Girl ran over to them, whimpering because the cat was out of reach. Viola made a growling sound low in her throat and Girl backed away.

The microwave beeped and Ruth took out a covered tureen and brushed past Scout as she carried it to the table. Scout edged closer to the refrigerators. It looked like Viola was sharing her food. What about the jolo?

Then, as she passed a doorway on her left, something caught the corner of her eye. She took half a step back, as if afraid of being caught, although she hadn’t been doing anything yet. She drew up to the edge of the doorway, peeking around the corner to see Liv in her hover chair, tightly grasping Clementine’s forearm to pull her closer as she spoke to her in a voice so low Scout couldn’t even hear a murmur of it.

What could Liv have to say to Clementine? The girl never spoke.

But then Scout saw the girl nod her head. That was more response than Scout had seen her giving even Ruth.

Scout jumped at a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Ruth smiling at her. “Hungry?”

“I guess so,” Scout said.

“It’s just freeze-dried soup, but it smells pretty good,” Ruth said, still smiling. “Have you seen Clementine?”

“Yeah,” Scout said. “She’s in there. With Liv.”

Ruth’s eyebrows came together in mild confusion, but her smile didn’t falter. “Well, you should go get it while it’s hot.” Then she went through the doorway into the room where Clementine was now standing quite apart from Liv. Ruth went to her, putting a hand on each of her shoulders and steering her back to the main room. Liv followed, glancing up at Scout still hovering near the doorway.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Liv asked her.

“No, I would remember you,” Scout said.

“Yes, I suppose you would,” Liv said. “Still . . .”

She stared at Scout’s face as if cataloguing every detail, a slight frown to the corners of her mouth. Then she gave herself a shake and continued on to the table.

Scout had definitely never met her. Even without the chair, she had never seen eyes so piercing. They were rapacious. Like she hunted from on high. But perhaps Scout was not the one Liv thought she remembered.

Everyone had always told Scout that she looked exactly like her mother. Had Liv known her?