Hugh Howey - Molly Fyde and the Parsona Rescue

Molly had completely forgotten about her promise of a reward. What would Lucin say when he found out the Navy owed money to this strange kid? And surely the boy wasn’t thinking about blowing his reward on those silly games of his.

After her shower, Molly yanked her jumpsuit out of the washer/dryer. It was still slightly damp, but she pulled it on anyway. The uncomfortable coolness matched her mood. She strolled out to the cargo bay and froze at the sight of an opened crate. Edison leaned over the contraband, fiddling with something.

Molly didn’t want to dissuade her friend from showing initiative, but those crates represented something bad about herself—she didn’t care to see them toyed with. She also didn’t want to take out more of her frustrations on her friends, so she walked to the other side of the crate and gently asked him what he was finding.

“Plasma inducer in excellent condition,” he told her. “Impeccable. And fully charged, no less. Simple mounting procedure required, is all.” He looked up at her with a wide smile. “Installing these units would be highly enjoyable.”

Molly scratched his head. “I know you’d enjoy it, pal. And if Albert would’ve let us use his garage and tools, you’d be doing just that. Heck, if there was a safe place we could go right now that had a pile of scrap metal and something bigger than our ship’s welder, I’d take you there.”

She looked down into the open crate at the long gleaming shaft of the laser canon. “Imagine having to scratch my back before I scratched yours. Like in a Council meeting when you have to give someone a vote to get a vote in return. That’s why we have to go to Frankie’s.”

Edison nodded. “My understanding of the situation is complete. Just expressing my imagined pleasure.”

She patted him again and set off to relieve Cole when something Edison had said made her stop in her tracks. She whirled on him. “Did you say those things were already charged ?”

He nodded. “Fully. A simple depression of this mechanical device discharges a stream of modulated plasma with an amplitude of—”

She held up both hands. “I understand. Do me a favor? Please put the lid back on and go check the chaff pods. Or try on your space suit and make sure it fits and breathes all right, okay?”

“Absolutely, captain. With haste.”

She exhaled, turned to the cockpit and nodded at Walter. The boy had returned to his computer, programming away. Despite her annoyance with him wasting time with that game, she couldn’t imagine life on Parsona without that thing to baby-sit him.

“Bored?” she asked Cole as she wiggled into her chair.

“Yeah, and loving it. You missed a new arrival while you were in the shower.” He pointed to the SADAR display.

Molly looked. Back at Darrin I the entire fleet of pushy salesmen raced out of their shops to greet a new customer. Except, unlike her, this buyer had jumped in safely and knew to sit and wait. Molly felt sorry for the poor guy, then caught herself. Anyone doing business here did not deserve her pity. Herself included.

One of the red blips rushing out had a clear lead. Molly imagined it was Anlyn, chained to her chair and out-flying everything in the system. She hoped the poor girl found Edison’s alterations before Albert did. And as much as she’d love to watch the starved slave bust free, Molly hoped there’d be a lot of distance between Parsona and that fight before it broke out.

“There has to be a better way of conducting business,” Cole said, studying the chase on SADAR.

“Well, whatever they were doing before worked none too well.” She traced her finger across the SADAR image of all that debris, wondering what had happened, who had fired the first shot, and how many people had died. Her brain flashed back to Glemot, but she didn’t allow it to linger there.

“Hey, Cole, what was it like where you were born?”

“It was like Portugal.”

“I’m serious. Your village, what was it like?”

“Small and dirty.” He paused a moment. “But I loved it there. No, actually I was bored out of my mind back then, but I love to remember myself as happy there. Maybe it’s because I know I’d be happy there now .”

“You wouldn’t be bored after a while?”

“Possibly, yeah. After a few weeks of doing nothing I’m sure I’d be yearning for the rainy season on Palan.” He chuckled and turned to face her. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know… I just feel sometimes like you and I don’t really know each other as well as we should. All those hours in the simulator together, and we spent most of our time talking about previous hours in the simulator. There’s times when I feel like you weren’t born until you got to the Academy.”

“Well, don’t you feel that way about yourself sometimes?”

“Me? No. Not really. I think my upbringing, my father especially, had a lot to do with who I am. It made me into something that wanted to join the Academy in the first place.”

“Hmm. I suppose the same is true for me. But it was my friends that made the difference.”

“What do you mean?” Molly knew nothing of Cole’s old friends.

“I just stayed in trouble a lot. Made some mistakes. When I got in one bad fix, my only way out was either to run from the authorities or join them. I chose the latter. Went to a recruiter and signed up for the Navy. The aptitude tests said ‘pilot,’ so here I am.”

“Yeah, in the navigator’s chair.” Molly laughed at her own joke and Cole joined her. It felt good.

“You know what isn’t funny?” she asked after they settled down.

“You.”

“No, the fact that you’re in the same spot now that you were back then.”

“I don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Well, we’re in a jam and the choice has been to run from the police or run toward them. Only this time you are making the opposite decision.”

“Hmm. Hadn’t thought about it like that.” They both fell silent for a moment. “It’s gonna suck like a hull breach when I wake up one day and realize I was wrong both times.”

Molly hoped he meant that to be funny—but neither of them laughed.

Albert had marked Frankie’s shop on their charts. They were several thousand meters from the nondescript asteroid when Molly thumbed the short distance radio and tried to hail him.

“Frankie’s Mods, Parsona , channel sixteen, come in.” She released the mic key and glanced over at Cole. He was watching the SADAR intently.

“This is Frankie’s Mods on sixteen, over.”

“Frankie, this is Molly, the captain of the GN Class starship Parsona , requesting permission to land.”

“Permission granted. The door’s open. We look forward to doing business with you.”

Molly looked to Cole again. “See? Now this is how you’re supposed to do it. None of that scaring-people-half-to-death and chasing-them-all-over-the-star-system nonsense.”

Cole nodded and turned back to the dash. But as paranoid as he was being—as intently as he studied the SADAR—there was no way he could’ve known that one of the bumps on the back of Frankie’s asteroid was a Navy Firehawk, lying in ambush.

Molly moved cautiously into Frankie’s hangar, a carbon-copy of the one they’d left earlier that day. She braced for an impact as Parsona broke the plane, wondering if the locals ever got used to the fear of hitting one of these glass doors.

“I wonder where Frankie’s ship is?” she asked.

“Wife’s probably out shopping for milk and eggs, or taking the kids out to Galaxy Ball practice,” said Cole.