Aether Book One: Fugitive

Chapter Two

For three hours, she walks down the dirt road surrounded by woods, taking a break halfway to fill her water bottle by a stream. She rolls up her jacket and squeezes it between the top straps of her pack when it starts clinging to her from the sweat.

Despite the day she was having, she couldn't help but appreciate the occasional cool breeze washing the heat from her skin and the song of rustling leaves dancing on their branches. She scans deep into the shady undergrowth as she walks, expecting to see silhouettes of reinforcements for the AriBots darting out from the trees at any moment. But none showed. Oh well.

As the sun is well past its apex, the breeze sporadically carries the charm of rubber and asphalt, mixing with the green sweat of the foliage and baking earth. She hears a few mumbles of human activity shortly before the woods give way to fields of mixed crops, looking more like giant gardens than farmland. Emerging from the shade, she can see the sun glaring off the windows in the town ahead.

Something was wrong. Where were the people working in the fields? There were always at least a few people out there, but today there were none. But that wasn't all. It was quiet. She casts her gaze over the town. She sees a few people moving about the streets. No uniforms or weapons, though.

Something didn't feel right. She stuffs her jacket down deeper into her bag and ties her hair into a bun before moving in. Few people knew her by sight here. Her friend, Tara, delivered most of her supplies when she made her rounds in her pickup truck. In exchange, Jaiden would volunteer at her animal sanctuary a few days out of the week.

The first thing she does is dip into a bar and steal some dude's straw hat off the rack, hoping the guy won't mind. She'd leave it with Tara before she left. Just in case it held some kind of sentimental value, she could return it to the lost and found. Her first priority was fixing her tablet, then finding a network to connect to.

There was something disquieting in the atmosphere as she crossed town. People were still going about their day, shopping, eating, and talking. But it was usually much more lively and welcoming. It had to be connected to those robots. Maybe people saw them, and now everyone was spooked. Maybe whoever sent them was still in town somewhere. Either way, she best move quickly.

She eventually arrives at another bar. Small, windows painted black and barred. She opens the painted glass door. The warmly lit interior bends at a right angle. To the right was the first little wing, with small tables and chairs scattered about. Two restroom doorways running down the back wall. Directly in front is the central walkway. The actual bar stretches along the right side, stopping at the stainless steel back door, while the left hosts a column of booths. The interior of the black windows are boarded up with some kind of foam insulation.

The place was called Mickey's, though no one who worked here was actually named Mickey. Two middle-aged men were chatting in one of the front booths. One dark silhouette of a man reading in the back corner booth. One young skinny guy at the bar, accompanied by the large bartender. Six people, counting herself.

She walks down and sits a few bar stools away from the back door. The man reading in the back turns out to be a dark gray statue. Some kind of memorial. The table is wiped clean, its glossy finish showing a warped reflection of the soft light above. It couldn't be solid stone, it would be too expensive, heavy, and awkward to set it there. Maybe it was hollow.

Wonder what you could hide in there?

"Write down your order, and I'll give it to the chef. You drinkin'?" The bartender, Thomas, asks. Portly, balding, glasses. Nice and straight to the point.

She shakes her head as Thomas slides her a notepad and pen.

Shattered tablet screen. And some Wi-Fi. She writes.

All electronic devices are highly illegal and heavily regulated. This town is far enough away from any authorities that you don't need fancy codes and ciphers. You just don't want to leave any trace that could wind up on someone's server, or picked up by a nearby microphone. There were always people traveling through these backwater towns, fugitives, informants, bounty-hunters. Mostly people escaping the war and looking for work, but it was always best to be careful.

Thomas picks up the notepad.

"Wait by the statue." He turns and heads to the back room.

"Uh, you sure?" Isn't the whole point of memorials not to disturb them.

He looks over his shoulder at her.

She gets up and moves. Sets down her pack in the booth and slides in. She looks across at the figure, holding up a book with a burnt cover; 'Kropotkin' being the only visible word. She stares at the statue, trying to piece together who this man was. No older than she was; they gave him a thick wig of curly hair, tied back in a ponytail. A bushy brown beard sprinkled with ginger hairs framing a peaceful slate-gray face, eyes closed. How weird would it be if they actually took the man's hair and glued it on after he died? Under a black t-shirt, the statue was thickly built like a powerlif-

"Do you-" The statue springs to life, opening its eyes.

"AH!" Jaiden's waist smacks the table as she jumps up.

The two guys in the other booth burst out laughing. The skinny guy at the bar looks over to the back corner. The statue grins as it looks at her, then turns and raises his hand at the two in the booth. They quiet down.

"Oh my god, you're a- I'm so sorry, I thought you were a-" Jaiden fumbles. Heart still thumping.

"I think the heart attack I gave you makes us even. Please, sit, my wide-eyed friend." He says, folding up the book and placing it in the bag at his side.

"As I was saying, do you need something?"

She hesitates.

"It's safe to talk. I know these guys."

"My tablet's broken. I need a new screen, and I need it quick."

"Alright, I can take it to-"

The front doors flys open, white light drowning out the warm yellow glow of the interior, five men stalk into the bar and fan out. The lead man's eyes dart around the room. The patrons rise out of their chairs, slowly. The leader settles on the two in the back corner.

"Never-mind" the gray-skinned man sighs.

His followers hold clubs and nightsticks, two brandish them openly, the rest have them strapped to their sides. Their eyes darting from person to person to each other.

"The rest of you can leave. We're here for him." The leader says, whipping out a pistol and waving it to the back corner.

"Alright, everyone out." says the stone man. He looks at Jaiden.

"Oh no, not her. We get a bonus for anyone associating with a fugitive, so you stay right there."

"Now," He indicates to the stone man, "go get your friends out the back. Try to run, and we bring your lady friend in cold."

The stone man gives her a slight shrug, and slides out of the booth. Fingers and bare feet scratching and scraping against the wood.

Could his skin actually be made of stone?

The three other bystanders make their way out the front, hands raised. Jaiden's legs shake, she's breathing hard, chest heaving. She makes sure the men see her before she sinks back into her booth. Her face hardens as she digs her hand through her pack, craving the familiar grip of her stylus.

"Oh no, you scared her, Anthony." One of the gunman's confederates tease.

"Being into bad boys ain't as fun as you thought?" Another chimes in.

"They ran out the back when you came in. They're not here." The statue says. Jaiden forgets to shake and labor her breath as attention returns to him.

"If you're lyin-"

"Go in and check, then." The stone man retorts as he walks back to the booth. He leans over the table and grabs something from his seat.

"Get ready to hit the deck." He mutters. He's not going quietly.

Good, neither am I. She slides the stylus from her bag.

He emerges with a grey back-pack in one hand and two sabers, tips folded over, clenched in the other.

"You'll want these, I assume?" He starts walking toward the group.

"Hold it." The leader says, motioning at the stone man with his g*n. "You stay right there.” Then, to his men, ”You two, check the back." The leader turns to another man, "Search him and take his shit."

Two goons walk to the back door, exchanging stares with the living statue as they pass. Behind the leader, a small, darkhaired man keeps an eye on the front door. A bulky man, nightstick tucked in his belt, approaches the slate-gray man, who presents his belongings. The bulky one snatches the bag first, digs through it, turns, and tosses it behind him. He grabs the swords, turns to toss them, only to be grabbed by the wrist, swords clashing to the floor. As the statue twists his arm around his back, he throws his other arm around the bulky man's chest, grabbing his throat, and holds him close as he rushes the man with the g*n. The bulky man making an adequate surprise shield.

The leader shouts and levels his pistol, backs into a table, and stumbles as the bulky man collides with him while Jaiden hits the deck. The stone man goes straight for the wrist holding the g*n and wrenches it free with his other hand. A single blinding flash and deafening pop ring out. The stone man knocks the guy who was watching the door to the ground as he approaches. Jaiden rises as the stone man tucks the pistol into his waistband and retrieves his sabers.

They look at each other.

"Can you fight?" he asks as the three thugs pick themselves up and regroup.

"Yeah" She turns as the other two burst through the back, at the ready, but keeping their distance.

"Good. This'll be over quick." He hands her a saber.

"No thanks."

"Suit yourself." They turn, falling in back to back. As their backs touch, it feels warm and taught under his shirt.

So, he's not all stone. His back's vulnerable.

Wait, so is mine.

"Kill these assholes!" The leader pushes the bulky man forward.

Jaiden powers up her stylus as her two advance. They slow to look at the ethereal pink glow coming from the tip and stop as the hot pink electricity fountains out. She thrusts her stylus forth, releasing the dark purple blade from it’s prison. The first guy ducks, the blade materializing inches above his head. The other steps aside.

Whoops. That was a little too close

They both look to the blade, then to her.

She smiles.

They run.

She turns to see the stone man, back against the bar, swords leveled at the dark-haired man, who is on all fours, clenching the side of his face. The bulky man and the leader, backs to the booths. All four frozen, looking at Jaiden with wide eyed stares.

That is, until the statue leaps forward and kicks the bulky man into the leader. Sending both crashing into the table.

"Run." Someone yells.

The three stumble over each other, fumbling out the front door. The remaining two pause to catch their breath.

"Friends of yours?" Jaiden asks the stone man as he reaches down and shoulders his pack.

"Something like that. Do you have a place to stay? This town might not be safe for you anymore."

"I was on my way out anyway."

"Those mechs scare you that bad?" He flips the front door sign to closed.

"What do you know about them?" She asks with a start.

"People round here saw one flying, and one jumping around the fields at noon. Based on the pictures I saw, they must be a field test of those mechs the Ari Corporation's been working on."

She looks away.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of those guys either?"

Silence.

"Anyway, let's go somewhere else." He walks toward the back. She follows.