Titanomachy

Of pale immortal death, and with a pang

As hot as death's is chill, with fierce convulse,

Die into life ~ Hyperion, John Keats,

1. Where Mortals Dare

. . .

Venn tossed her the binoculars, grinning as she easily caught them in one hand while scrambling up the rubble towards him with the other. "It's back, l'il Miss Ghostie Girl."

"You don't know it's the same one." Beck shoved the older boy hard with her shoulder. He mock-staggered, shifting to the side to let her get a better position. She put the binoculars to her eyes, swiftly changing their focus to pick out the tiny construct flitting over and through the nearby ruins.

Venn might as well have stopped existing for her. He spoke again anyway, watching her sway around to keep the little thing in view. "In my defense, they do all kinda look alike."

"You were right. It's the same one." She sounded distracted.

Venn arched a dark eyebrow at her. "What did I just say?"

"Same scratches on the top." She flicked the device into a tighter focus and leaned forward, as if the extra few inches would help her. "Same ding. Little guy's been in some scraps all by his lonesome. This is his fourth visit."

"Fifth gets you an extra punch on your guest card." Venn watched her tug the dinged-up leather journal out of her pocket. Her tracking book. He tried to not read too much over her shoulder – it was mostly in her own shorthand, functionally a code anyway. He remembered some of the details enough to suss out what she meant.

3.1: Thrall inc – small pat/NE scrap. No command fig

3.3: Ghost sighted (1st)

3.4: near contact, two aco, possible smoke? Da info

3.4-2'' ghost ag. same?

And so on. He looked at some of her diagrams, marking out a rough of the area with notes on where the sightings occurred. Beck was the second best tracker in the tiny community, the pride of Angela, their security chief. Also the top tracker. Not that any of this cut ice with her Da – track only, no contact, no engagement. It was understandable. The colony couldn't afford any losses, and to lose the daughter of the founder? Venn twisted his lips and watched the distant dot of the Ghost spiral up and away again. "Still nothing," he lilted, being a turd for the sheer teasing joy of it. "Better luck next time, little guy."

"We should move." Beck slung the binoculars around her neck and tugged at him, flashing a gesture at the three younger kids puttering around at the base of the rubble. Their charges always got bored quick, even if her trips meant a roaming away from the hidden beast pens. The yaks were being particularly stinky this summer, pale and penned up underground, getting only the barest bit of fresh air and light they could risk. There had been a lot of incursions lately, and today bore all the hallmarks of more. "He moves that fast, it means incoming. He's three for three, this won't be any different."

That put his eyebrows up into his hairline. "We're exposed out here-"

"That's why we gotta go." She pulled hard at his arm this time, getting him off his ass. "And not a damn word to my Da when we get back, alright?"

"Well if they get too close, Beck-"

"If you shut up and move, they won't!" Beck didn't bother to scramble down carefully – she swung down a single handhold and then dropped the rest of the way to the ground, startling the kids they were supposed to be watching. She shooed them ahead of her and they scattered, knowing the drill.

In the distance, the Hive dropship rumbled into existence over the ruins of the old mining operation. The low, almost inaudible frequencies rattled through their bones even as the small group legged it into the shielding cover of the tall grass and the outermost, carefully wild-looking rice paddies.

. . .

Beck avoided Dallas's stare, trying her best to just seem like she was focusing her entire being on the milky, hearty stew in her clay bowl. "This is really good, Da. Was it Angela's turn around the kitchens? Because Venn was with me and the kids today and he's the only other one that can get that stuff edible." She licked a fleck of rice off the side of her hand. "I hate yaks. I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I really hate those yaks." She crinkled her nose. "They were fartin' all morning."

"It was my turn, and I know perfectly well Venn was with you today. We set up the schedule together, after all."

She hauled the bowl up to her face again, trying to hide the flash of terror. "Wow, Da! You did great!" Did he rat?

"He didn't rat you out. Nor did Santo, or Meela, or Wu." The three kids. "Or their parents." His voice was measured and even. She took a hesitant glance up at his face and saw the rock wall there. She was in deep yak dip. Gulping down the rest of dinner did nothing to settle her now-churning guts.

Dallas sighed, scruffled his knuckles through his greying beard. "Nobody needs to rat you out. First you slide in here like you weren't an hour late. Then you get extra helpful. The pottery wasn't scheduled to be organized for another two months. That's a hearty clue, honey."

"Why leave off for later what can be done today?" She chirped the words, lifting her shoulders in a shrug.

"You are a rotten liar, Rebecca. Your face was made for honesty." He reached out and patted her cheek with unusual softness. It meant he was gearing up to be in one hell of a mood. She braced herself. "More like your grandmother than your mother – your mother could spin fables for days, each one more fantastic than the last. Fantasy, that was her world. My ma... that's what you remind me of." He grunted. "She told me stories about our ancestors. True ones, the best kind."

"I know, Da. You've told me."

"You hear 'em and you don't listen." He put his bowl down with a thunk. "Frontier days. Hard days, spun up all pretty for stories later. All that shit about old Texas Rangers and the good guys in white hats." He shook his head. "Back then, you didn't know what was right or wrong until the guns were in hand and you saw who chose to shoot or not. Back when the invaders were the people that were there first." He thumped his hand down on the table for emphasis.

"I know, Da." Her gaze flickered up to the hand-drawn map of the area, marked up with pinyin and nearly forgotten Tibetan script – a priceless artifact that marked all the old Haixi mining tunnels they lived in day by day. "We fought our way out here, away from the City. Cost us so much to get this far. We're the frontier people now. That's important. We're taking it back."

He shook his head, not mollified. "You were too little to remember the worst of it. I think that's good, but sometimes I wish you knew some of the lessons we were taught firsthand. If you knew, Beck, you wouldn't take such stupid risks."

"Da."

"I can't lose you, too." He lifted her head and looked her full in the face. She winced internally. There were two subjects that were verboten in their home – what happened to Mom, and the City. He was really on a full tear to be skirting around both topics. "We've made something out here, honey. Something nobody can take from us. A piece of Earth back in human hands, and we did it without those fucking Guardians." She winced again at the profanity, this time visibly. "People need symbols as much as they do a good, stable society. Something to believe in. As long as you and I can keep this place together, keep that chain going, the other families will stick with us. And after that, long after we know we've got this place safe from all comers, we can grow."

She chewed her lip. If his next tack was to ask her how things were going with Venn, she didn't know what she was going to do. She and Venn had held long conferences before about how obvious their families were in trying to set up their futures, and how little either of them were interested in the other. Venn had a happily reciprocated crush on Angela's daughter, and Beck had no time or patience for the discussion otherwise. She decided to try and head him off. "The future's a long way away, Da. Everyone here is behind you completely. We've got this."

It seemed to pause him. He stood up and took both their bowls, placing by the washbin before looking back over his shoulder at her. "You and Venn are good friends."

She froze.

He smiled, the worst of the storm over. "Just friends." He looked away and took a rag out of the bin, slinging it over his shoulder while he rustled for the hard cleaning bar the Alasia family produced for the colony. "I told you, Beck. You were made for honesty. Well, maybe that too is a long way off." He sighed. "So what'd you see out there, today? Anything I need to know?"

"Hive ships are showing up a lot more. I'm careful, Da, but they're definitely patrolling the area now. Don't know if it's to be a regular stop upcoming, but we're gonna have to lay low with the smoke for a bit."

"You think they've found traces of us?"

She thought of the little Ghost, wondered what it was up to right then. "I don't think so. I think they're keeping an eye out for something else. Makes 'em tricky, though. They're apt to be on guard."

"We'll have to cut back the yak field trips." He laughed as she groaned aloud. "Yeah, they're gonna stink that much more, hon. Get your daycare to scrub 'em down. That'll make the runts tractable, yeah?"

That drew a laugh. "Everyone gets to smell like yak!"

"Frontier hardships, honey. The things they don't tell you in the books." He looked over and gave her a wink. "Then it gets better. Always gets better."

"Because we're gonna make it that way."

"Give your cranky old Dad a hug. Then get some rest. Because I know you'll be doing something stupid tomorrow, too."

She left herself be folded into a big bear hug, almost old enough now that any one could be the last between an adult and a child. "I'll be careful."

"Yeah, you better be." He spoke the words into her hair as she squeezed back. "Damn the colony. You're what I got left, Beck."