“It’s less about driving and more ‘bout controllin’ momentum.” The Rumsey had not stopped talking for three hours. T’sala did not understand; she felt the sounds and feelings of the engine rattling down her spine, yet the Rumsey showed no signs. Alec and she, though, slumped together; she could feel by the pull of him on her blood that the trip was wearing him down. “An’ that’s why we are in such high demand, only a few of us got the license for steering deathraps full of volatile…”
T’sala cut her off, “Is it much farther to the Rumsey?” Her question was in earnest, but she saw the smile cross the small driver's lips in the mirror facing backwards. T’sala frowned. She did not like that kind of smile; it told her she was dumb, or at least, the one smiling thought she was.
“Not The Rumsey, just Rumsey darlin’.”
“Ok then, just Rumsey,” T’sala did her best to imitate the way Just Rumsey had said it. This woman had so many names. Her tribe must get confused. “How much longer? I have fears my friend needs sleep.”
“Ain’t no friends I know who look at each other like that. Ain’t never seen two so enamoured they tied themselves together. That said, Ain’t never seen a metal man or purple woman before. Nah, Rumsey, that’s me. Rumsey says I, you gotta get past growin in this old cabin by a frozen river with nothin’ but Pa’s memory.”
T’sala could not keep up with all these names. Na Ramsey sounded like her people’s language, but she could not be certain. She was fed up with the woman, and the drive had begun to hurt her bottom, back, neck, shoulders and all the way through her teeth. She found ‘Rumsey’s’, she had decided not to use any of her many names and settle on the one. She hoped it got to the woman for the fact that she didn’t let this incessant rumbling drive over nothing but sheets of white ice and snow get to her, which nearly made T’sala glow brightly with anger. She calmed it.
“Rumsey.” T’sala interrupted again.
“Now that’s more like it, Darlin’!” Rumsey responded.
T’sala did not want her to speak again. She was like a dream speaker with the forever goodbyes after a ceremony. Moments felt like days trying to escape the words of one long for civil interaction. T’sala understood that. She looked to Alec, who looked miserable; he was mid-momentum of dropping his hand. He had clearly been trying to sign her something. She raised an eyebrow to ask him to repeat it, but he just shrugged his shoulders. T’sala did not like the feeling that she missed something. She glowed more.
“Any way you can cut that out, darlin’, makes it hard to see where I’m goin’ and if I’m honest, you're about to see what makes Hannencourt so unique. They built it on the frozen lake, and when the ghosts come to play… well, you’ll see for yourself.”
T’sala felt like she was about to explode. This woman gave her no respect, yet at the same time, was not harmful. She was like the small insects that buzzed in her ear, but she was forced to let them live so they could pollinate the plants. T’sala tried her best to quell her indignation, but it only magnified the glow. She felt her bottom lip protrude into a disapproving scowl with a pout. She tried her best to retract it, but the muscles were set in her anger. She begged the universe for control of it, but none came. T’sala felt a shaking near her, and she turned to the offworlder in a panic. Some of her glow dissipated, but then returned double when she saw his state. He was not in pain nor struggling. He was smiling so hard and laughing silently. The emotion must have been palpable for his throat electronics sparked with the extended effort. She was about to give him the forefront of anger when she heard Rumsey chime in with her own melodic laughter.
“Now that's exactly how Ma used to look at Pa, ‘cept she glowed red, not purple, and not nearly as bright.” T’sala felt the vibration of the engine slow as Rumsey pressed some pedals and moved around the stick. The vehicle began to slow as she continued talking. “Pa thinks now, see here if she’s afire with rage, I’ll be calmin’ her down with some ice. So he opens the window and blasts Ma with the icy air unique to this world. That cold brings down beasts ten times the size of your metal man there.” Rumsey's hand now slowed to a full stop and was beginning to unbuckle herself while the small stepping ladder extended from the driving chair. “That got the fire burnin’ even hotter in Ma, though, like how your friend here been glowin’,” Rumsey emphasized the last word in a way that made T’sala feel as if she did not believe them. She walked her short frame with frizzy blonde hair towards Alec and T’sala with a knowing smile on her face. “See, there’s one thing that stops that kind of fire in your chosen life confidant.” Now she was directing T’sala and Alec by their elbows, getting them to stand. She took one of Alec's arms; with her height, Rumsey had to have her hands extended fully over her head to move his large arm level with his shoulder. Rumsey used her hip and pushed T’sala off balance. T’sala swore to herself she was going to end this woman shortly. Off balance, she fell into the offworlder's chest. Rumsey let his arm drop, and it fell to embrace T’sala, pulling her close like the moments in the cave. Her glow calmed, showing nothing but purple skin. As it faded, so did her rage. As she felt Alec’s heart skip a beat with hers, she felt gratitude towards Rumsey. No. Rumsey still, T’sala did not want her getting too familiar by using her formal name again.
Rumsey walked over to her chair again, climbed back up, and started the momentum forward. T’sala and Alec enjoyed the moment as Rumsey’s movements gave them a moment of privacy. The short driver adjusted her mirror, even though it didn’t need it. T’sala assumed it was for their attention and let the embrace with the offworlder go. She looked out the window as she did. Like magic, the white ice landscape lit up with blue and green refracted light. The sky had waving, dancing lines that played with the ice crystals to give them strings attached to the snowy planet's surface. It was like watching spirits rise to the realms where her brother Tusong now hunted and feasted. For a moment, T’sala longed to join them, like a purple arc to the planes beyond this mortal life. She felt an anchor to her life; however, when she felt the offworlder intertwine his fingers with hers beneath the wrapping of their connected hands. Both stared out the window in awed silence.
“Right on time, forty-eight years here on this frozen rock, and each one is new and beautiful as day one. I’d stand ten toes on that higher than any other. An’ to answer your question, darlin’, we’re halfway there. This life ain’t for everyone, but it is for me. If you need some rest, feel free to cuddle up on that bed you were sittin’ on.”
T’sala looked to where her and Alec had just stood up from. The ‘bed’ was a stool for Alec and barely fit them both sitting. She looked to Alec and he had a smile on his face, he too had the same thought. This living space was for a very short person and neither T’sala or Alec fit that description, thought she only came to his chest. They opted for laying on the floor in a position where they could look out separate windows and see the ghosts as Rumsey had called them, dance across the skies. The gentle vibration of the engine and tires on ice allowed T’sala’s mind to settle and she let her mind quiet to the meditative nothing she used now instead of sleep. The two things now T’sala longed for was the feeling of sensation on her skin and the peacefulness of sleep. These things the baron had taken from her forever though so she now settled on focusing her mind on nothing. It was not an easy task and before she knew it she started humming her mothers lullaby.
A voice joined T’sala’s. It wasn’t perfect, but the imperfections harmonized in a way that reminded T’sala so much of home. She thought her brain must be hallucinating until she realized it was the voice of a small, rough, wiry-haired Rumsey. The small woman then began to sing words, the accent was broken and rough, but the words were Teretha.
“Sing to the children songs of our passing
Sing to the children the songs of the years
Sing to the children promises of peace and abundance
Sing to the children to calm all thier fears.
Sing cause for now, the fires are burning
The young will escape, the elders will not,
Sing cause for now, our fates they are turning
Slaves no more, our souls pay the cost.”
T’sala was in stunned silence. These words were old, her mother had told her; they were from the first takings. During that time, the Baronhood had portrayed themselves as allies, even friends. They had given gifts and made trades to build their circle to other worlds. Then the giving stopped, and the taking began. For this woman, Rumsey to know this song meant that she also knew her people. Why these people would be here on this rock, she had no idea, but she knew with those words, this woman deserved her trust. No enemy of her people would know, or even care to know, that song. She looked up and made eye contact through the mirror. The woman Rumsey had tears in her eyes, and she nodded a respectful, soldierly nod to T’sala. Something seemed to have cemented in their small driver's mind in the sharing of the song as well, for her expression took on one of determination.
“Look,” Rumsey broke the hanging silence with speech, “We are gonna be at Hannencourt in about forty-five minutes. I’m gonna pull over here and get you into the canister, their sensors start a few clicks out but the ice lake provides no cover. It’ll do you no good to get spotted. You’re gonna feel us bump around and twist an’ turn but I’ll knock like this when it’s good to come out, gotter?” Rumsey looked at T’sala seriously and T’sala tried to focus on what was said. The offworlder was nodding so it must have been mostly good. Rumsey stopped the vehicle again and T’sala looked to her skin. Was she glowing again? No. She looked to Alec and then saw rumsey fumble around the makeshift bed to find a long chain. She gave it a sharp pull and the bet life up to reveal a gap below. It was filled with food in various stages of decay, some refilled bottles of water and what looked like a stash of medical supplies. There was just enough room for Alec and T’sala to fit crouched down beside each other.
Rumsey issued them in and then closed the door, leaving them in complete darkness. T’sala felt the engine return to a driving vibration, and they lurched forward again. T’sala settled in as she saw the offworlder getting comfortable. That song had meant everything Rumsey had said was true, and her apprehension had faded. She felt them turn and stop a few times, and about an hour after Rumsey had closed them in, T’sala heard the knock that Rumsey had indicated she would use before a safe opening. The man, Alec, still readied himself for combat; she could feel it in her blood, so T’sala did the same. Her purple glow filled the small space, but when it opened to reveal just Rumsey smiling, T’sala’s glow happily dissipated. They were ushered out of the small stash spot, then out of the truck into what looked like a warehouse just large enough to fit the truck “thunder” that Rumsey piloted.
T’sala looked around. Odd peices of old vehicles lay on the floor or workbenches or attached to the wall. A small fabri-steel house had been built into one corner and opposite that was a toolshed. Rumsey walked her and Alec over to the toolshed and opened the door. It was barely big enough for Rumsey and T’sala had no idea what the woman expected them to do.
“Sorry, it’s a bit of a tight fit, but welcome to the fortress Rumsey, it’ll be your home for a few days while I finish a backlog of shifts. Ain’t no rest an’ all that. But once I’m done, it’ll be safe to get you over to the old Hannencourt, the Quarantine and get you in to see your people. Got a delivery anyway, and I know they are itching for those medical supplies.” Rumsey indicated to the truck, and T’sala realized the store of goods they had laid upon were the smuggled treasure Rumsey was taking to a people in turmoil. It wasn’t much, but the thought alone touched T’sala’s heart, and she felt compassion for the woman. Rumsey’s hardness was supported by a soft, loving core; T’sala felt like that was her inside this suit.
Rumsey pulled hard against the tool shelves to reveal a much larger space with a small kitchen counter and wash area. There was a couch that was dressed as a bed but it was full sized that would allow both her and the offworlder to sit or lay. She breathed a sigh of relief, this was much better than her first impression. “Much thanks Just Rumsey.” T’sala stated formally.
“Awe it’s nothin’ and its, well, never mind. Just Rumsey needs to go just take a shower and just eat some food before just gettin’ on the road again. Food’s in the store box there.” She pointed to a steel box in the corner. “It’s dry rations but good in the belly.” She grabbed a small rectangular box with a baron logo on it. “Military food ain’t tasty but keeps the soldiers strong.” When neither Alec or T’sala made a move for the food Rumsey looked even more inquisitively at them. “Well thats me then. Last thing to say is, don’t be goin’ outside alone. Hannencourt might be large but you two stand out like two cold-blackened toes. Stay inside where its safe and when I’m done my routes and overtime I’ll be back for ya.” Rumsey slid the tool shelf back in front of T’sala and Alec and T’sala heard the door close and lock. For now they were at the mercy and timeframe of the small frazzled woman. Alec gestured her over to the couch and they both sat down. Neither had the need for sleep which made the task of waiting less preferable to an intense battle. T’sala like battle. She hated practicing patience. She felt her glow beginning to rise at the thought and the panic. Then T’sala felt an arm embrace her and her glow diminished. Even just for this one thing, T’sala could be grateful to Rumsey. What the Ma and Pa had taught her was wise and comfortable for T’sala. That thought wormed into her sleepless mind as the offworlder held her gently. Comfort to T’sala was the short path to death.
