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The parking spaces for skimmers were full around the Stores area, so Maryse parked several blocks away again. She motioned to Dottie to stay in the skimmer and promised her dog a treat if she could find one. Maryse dusted herself off, noting again the ingrained dirt and stains in her clothing, and retied the bandanna around her hair. Fatigue and hunger weighed her down since her small cache of supplies from her supply pickup on the day of Fall was nearly depleted. The ground seemed harder than it used to be, and there wasn’t much plant life left to use as padding for her sleeping bag.
Dottie made a warm lump against her back at night, but the dog wasn’t a substitute for Jess by any means! She swallowed against the feeling of loss that rose again, against the memory of building their home and the lost dreams.
Maryse resolved to keep her eyes and ears open. She overhead somebody questioning if the thready stuff was natural or caused by someone/something. A woman hugged a baby tightly, asking another man what they could do to fight it off IF it fell again. Maryse wondered if they needed to be worried if this was a prelude to an invasion. She was also concerned about how people were going to be reacting. Uncertainty about life and survival had made people react with violence in the past during the Nathi War; she hoped Dottie would be protection enough for the skimmer.
The sun beat down today and people looked flushed as they carried packages from the Stores building. Maryse joined the line going into the big warehouse and hoped this wouldn’t take too long. There was just too much to do maintaining their stake by herself and the nights were too long without sleep. She heard nothing helpful about the damned stuff that fell on them, only suppositions of “I heard that …” and so-and-so remarks from other people.
A small irate man behind the counter was facing off with another dark-haired colonist. The guy behind the counter seemed as haggard as Maryse felt.
“Why do you need so many basic living packs, Bart?” the man snapped. “ You live in town and didn’t lose your house.” He leaned forward angrily towards the colonist.
“Just trying to help out a little.” The other man attempted a smile, but it seemed insincere to Maryse. “I was just going to share supplies with other folks who might not be getting in here, Joel.”
“Everyone needs to get their own supplies with their own IDs.” Joel Lillienkamp retorted. “Nobody can hoard stuff. You know the rules, same as everyone else. You get one pack of what you need for survival, no frills. We’re keeping records!”
Bart raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. Just one, then.”
“Hey, is there a shortage at the Store?” Another colonist raised his voice in alarm. “I need my supplies!” He shoved forward from behind Maryse towards the counter. Murmurs of alarm rippled behind her, and Maryse heard angry voices with their supply demands. She glanced back at the number of people leaving their orderly line, now massing around the doors. She took a tighter hold on her fraying stock of patience. It would be too easy to respond with the anger she felt, wanting to release her grief.
“Now wait a minute everyone!” Joel raised his voice trying to reassure everyone. “We’ve got enough. Homes losses get first chance at basic items for living.”
“What, they’re out of goods already!” A woman shouted angrily. She pushed forward, too, with other people surging at the ‘news’ that Stores was running out. The doors were shoved open by bodies slamming into them.
“Hey, now. Wait your turn!” Joel shouted. “Desi, Raymond, get up front!” He shouted towards the back, reaching under his counter for the long metal prybar kept there.
The people continued to shove inside. A teen jumped on top of the counter, looking towards the back storeroom. Others screamed as they were pushed against the walls or knocked to the ground.
Maryse surprised herself with the intensity of anger she felt at their behavior. “Back off people!” She took a deep breath and dropped her voice, just the way Sarn’t Major Kovan had drilled into her back at instructor training. Back then, her voice had carried across the training fields full of wannabe troops and atmo craft roaring overhead during the Nathi War. Her voice could quell this crowd to prevent a full riot. “Step back! Back up and settle down.”
Maryse seemed to radiate authority in visible waves. She faced the crowd. While not a tall person, the others retreated from her space. She spread her arms, ushering people away from the doors. Maryse moved over to the wall to help a woman who had been pinned behind the door.
“Thanks,” the woman gasped, rubbing her bruised arm, already wrapped in a bandage. “I’m Lizzie. Lot of work just to get supplies, isn’t it? I was almost crushed!” She huffed indignantly. “This arm was injured in the fall of the string things but luckily, I fell into a water trough at the Vet Sheds and the water saved me.
“You hurt? I’m Maryse.” She motioned the teen down off the counter, glaring until he followed her direction. “Everyone get back outside. Form a line. Wait your turn. Make sure nobody is hurt out there.” Her growl left little room for argument.
The crowd slowly oozed back out the door to line up outside in something resembling order.
Joel put his prybar back behind the counter and straightened up, facing Maryse and Lizzie. “That could have been bad. The crowds are getting rowdier every day as more people move back into Landing. Anyone need to go to Medical?”
“Not that I can see,” Maryse replied looking around. Everyone was standing again. Nobody seemed obviously injured from this fracas.
Lizzie shook her head no. “My partner-when I can finally get back to Delta Stake- is going to be so upset at the colonists’ reactions. He was military. Thinks people should know better.”
“He’s right.” Maryse said with a brief grin. “I wore a uniform once. We’ve lost enough already. We don’t need people making it worse!”
“Okay, who’s next? Have your ID ready.” Joel had returned to his counter, wiping sweat or tears off his face. Another young man with a tangle of braids down his back had joined him at the counter. “Hey boss, why don’t you sit a minute at the desk and check inventory? Me and Raymond can handle the counter now.”
Joel nodded and sank wearily into a battered chair behind the desk.
Maryse and Lizzie looked at each other. Maryse motioned Lizzie forward ahead of her to the counter, fishing her own ID from a pocket. Reaction from the near riot left her feeling more exhausted and shakier. Maryse realized the guy behind the counter had been asking her to step up several times.
“Hi, I just need to pick up a few things for my stake.” Maryse tried to smile at the young man behind the counter. He looked tired, too, probably putting in very long hours managing supplies for the colony.
“Fill out the requisition form, we supply basic living needs as part of your colony rights, but special items may not be possible. There’s limited colors and sizing in clothing since the fabricators are producing large batches of home coverings right now.” He recited his litany by rote, barely looking at Maryse. She nodded and began marking the computer screen for items she needed. A couple sets of clothing would be good as her remaining items were in bad need of a washing, color didn’t matter.
Finishing, Maryse hit submit; the screen divided items into two columns with several sections marked in red. The clerk peered at the screen, then swung it back to Maryse. “Okay, the items on the left side are considered basic living needs and the colony is supplying them for a short time to people who lost homes. The items on the right side need to either have admin approval or you need to have something to trade for them since they are shorter supply. Anything marked in red we don’t have now. Now, did you lose your home in the fall of the strings?”
She frowned at the list. Some of the materials on the right side were going to be needed to rebuild a home and keep her remaining horses fed and cared for. “Yes, our home was dissolved, eaten, whatever by that stuff. What are you taking in trade?”
“Boss,” Desi called. “What are we looking at for trades?”
Joel came back to the counter, glancing at her divided screen. “Another damn red list. I told admin that was going to be an issue since people can’t rebuild without those supplies.”
“Yeah, my house was destroyed, and I have almost nothing left. I’ve been camping in the livestock cave, but I’d really like to get a house rebuilt.” Maryse said, feeling anger and frustration welling up again. “What can I do for trades to get materials I need? How long will it take to get those supplies?”
“So, wait, aren’t you with Jess Carter? He has good engineering and construction skills. We can work out a trade for some of his labor.” Joel suggested.
Maryse clenched her fingers on the counter’s edge and almost snarled. “Jess is dead. So that’s not an option.”
Joel glanced at her, “Sorry, we’ve all lost people in our lives.” He pursed his lips. “Okay, let’s think about what you can do for trading skills or labor for what you need. Or maybe you have something at your stake that can be used in trade, like animals, hunting?
Maryse took a deep breath through her nose, holding onto her self-control. Time to put some military skills back into use, apparently. “Most of my mares and foals, and my studhorse, were killed that day. The cow and calf are gone too. I train horses if anyone has a horse left. I guess I can hunt wherries if Landing needs them for food.”
“Yep, that’ll help. With the number of people moving back into Landing, we really need food. More credit if the animals are dressed and ready to cook. Post your horse training skills over at the Vet Shed. We can start filling that wanted list soon as we get some credit.” Joel looked like he had repeated these same lines too many times in the past few days.
Maryse grimaced but nodded. She just didn’t have the energy left to dispute Joel.
Desi stepped back up. “Okay, we’ve got your basic living pack filled. Your food and horse supplies are in bay 5 around the side. Hope you’ve got a sled or skimmer to haul the stuff.”
Maryse nodded, “Yep and appreciate your help.”
She hoisted the plastic-wrapped BLP across her shoulder, and headed out the door, nearly running into Lizzie. The other woman was struggling to manage her packages with her injured arm.
“Here, can I help?” Maryse asked her, concerned Lizzie would injure herself trying to lift and carry the heavy packs.
“Thanks, sure. This dang arm really gets in the way of normal life, you know.” Lizzie added, letting the packages slip to the floor. She eased her injured arm back against her side.
A trim woman with an air of command breezed past them calling, “Joel. Is everything okay here?” Maryse heard something about ‘riot’ before the door shut on an office behind the woman and Joel.
“Was that Governor Boll? She looks ticked off.” Maryse said.
“I think that was her. She’s in charge of supplies, I heard, for the colony. Bet she is upset about people almost rioting.” Lizzie added.
“Hand over your biggest packs. I can carry more.” Maryse hoisted Lizzie’s packs to her other shoulder, ignoring the twinges in her lower back and the creaking in her knees with the cybernetic replacements. “Where you going? You got a sled or skimmer?”
Lizzie pointed out the front door at the vehicles parked haphazardly outside. “I was finally able to get a sled, so I can head back to Delta with supplies for everyone. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my man!”
“Maryse twitched her face into a grin. “Okay, then, lead on.”
“What about you? Where are you going with your packs?” Lizzie seemed unnecessarily happy to Maryse, but Lizzie had reason to be cheery.
“Oh, I’m picking up supplies to take back to Dreamland, our… my stake.” Maryse added slowly. “I’ve got lots of figuring out how to survive now.” They reached the sled Lizzie indicated. Maryse slung the packages into the back seat.
“Hey, where’s your sled?” Lizzie asked. “I can drop you off before going to pick up the larger load of supplies.”
“Oh, I parked a few blocks over since there was so much traffic around here. It’s no big deal to walk over. Don’t make your man wait any longer-get home!” Maryse encouraged, wanting time to relax before heading back.
Lizzie laughed and started her borrowed sled. “Okay, then. Hope it all works out at your stake.”
“You bet. And Lizzie, if that stuff falls again, duck faster!” Maryse added, stepping back as the fans whirled up. Lizzie snorted and lifted off.
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“Hey Dottie, no dog treats, but you can share my Ready to Eat Meal.” Maryse told her dog, finally reaching her skimmer. “RtEMs will keep a person alive and they last forever, so I got a bunch that were left over from the colony’s early days. Hope you like them since dog food was scarce.” She relished the moments to rest, taking a big drink of water from her canteen in the skimmer. She pulled the heat tab on a meal, then added water to Dottie’s bowl on the floor. Next stop was the Vet Shed.
“Hey Red?” Maryse called entering the dim barn. She heard a few choice words coming from one of the stalls as a cow bawled in pain.
“Sean, you know how to treat this cow, so follow protocol. I heard someone calling me.” A husky red-haired man stepped out of the stall. “Hey Maryse, did your stake make it?”
“No, we got hit pretty hard. Joel at Supply sent me over. I can train horses. I need credit for rebuilding.” Maryse relaxed in the familiar smells of horse and hay after the stressful morning. Her energy level was better too, so maybe she had just needed some food, she thought.
“Yeah, we’re making a real bulletin board on the wall there by the office. Add your name to the list and what you can do. Still have that snorty stud horse of yours? We lost so many horses and other stock, so you could advertise him for breeding.” Red mentioned, craning around to keep an eye on Sean and the unhappy cow.
“Banyon didn’t make it. He was in the upper pasture with the mares and young stock. None of them had shelter. We couldn’t get them down the hill in time. Jess tried- didn’t get back down either.” Maryse grimaced, recalling the horrors of the Fall.
“I’m sorry. Add any breeding stock to the list. We need to know what animals to create from gene stock. I need to get back to that cow. She’s having trouble calving.” Red put a hand on her shoulder in sympathy before turning away and Maryse strolled over the office bulletin board.
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The way home seemed longer than ever to Maryse, but she didn’t dare put the skimmer on auto-pilot. Living in the foothills with its craggy canyons caused tricky air currents that messed with stability of skimmers and sleds. They needed a real person to pilot in this terrain.
“So, Dottie,” Maryse dropped a hand to pull her dog’s soft ears. “When we get home, we need to get the horses out of the cave to graze. Maybe they can find something to eat close by. Then, we need to unload the skimmer. I sure hope no tunnel snakes got into our camping spot in the cave. You need to look in the cave to make sure it's safe, okay?”
The sun was setting across the long plains running towards the bay by the time Maryse settled the skimmer near what was left of her home. The stone fireplace stuck up like a sentinel on guard duty over the remains of the house.
Maryse let Dottie out and headed towards the cave they shared with the remaining horses. It was later than Maryse had hoped to get home but there was too much to do and nobody to share it with. Her back and knees hurt from putting in metal fence posts to rebuild fencing over the past few days. She had to keep the horses fed and safe. They were all she had left of her and Jess’s plans for their future.
She wondered again how she would ever be able to manage rebuilding and surviving but damned if she was going to give up her and Jess’s stake. They had worked too hard for her to move back to Landing. No cutting and running. Somehow, she had to find a way to survive. Maryse sagged against the skimmer for a moment, trying to gather energy for the evening’s work.
Dottie woofed in alarm as a big shape rounded the fireplace and house remains, coming towards them, snorting and nickering for a treat.
“Banyon??” Maryse gasped. “You’re alive! How did you ever survive?”
She pulled his mane to lead him into the light of the skimmer’s lights. The big studhorse’s dark yellow coat was muddy and sweat-encrusted with burrs and twigs tangling his black mane and tail. Maryse stroked across his body. She found an inflamed gash down one haunch and across his nose.
“Are those marks from that thready stuff? Did you get hit, but got away somehow?” She hugged him carefully and slipped a rope around his neck. “Let’s get those sore areas cleaned up.”
As she doctored her studhorse, Maryse realized that maybe she would be able to manage rebuilding now. Tomorrow, she would comm Red and let him know Banyon was alive and available in return for trading or credit. She had a little hope for the future after all.