...Do what you will. Scream, cry, beat your tiny fists. I know. Fine. Karma and I had a small disagreement and I abandoned her by the side of the road. But after six months, she's done what she does best and she's tracked me down.

I've forgotten what hard work it is to write a good story.

Enjoy a long-awaited, albeit perhaps slightly crappy chapter, kids. Hope it doesn't let you down.


Chapter Twelve: Coming Alive at Night

Beaconsfield was about ten or twenty klicks away from Yellerbax, seemingly in a remote location and with a similar situation to a utopia. It only took five klicks for an argument to break out – Vinnie thought it was rude of Hew not to offer services to his bike, because after all he was travelling just as hard as Karma. Karma was offended and told him so, with as many explentives thrown in as possible. Modo tried to break it up, only to be dragged into and out of the argument like a cat dragging a bird through a hedge. Throttle took Karma's side.

Y'know. Just for the Hell of it.

And because she was right.

And to make it even.

Yeah. Making it even for her.

"Shut up, Throttle, this has got nothing to do with you!"

Back in my box.

Vinnie and Karma squabbled for ten minutes while Modo and Throttle tagged along like kids in the back seat. "They'll be married next."

"Somehow ah doubt it."

"You are on the point of VULGAR! Hew is MY friend –!"

"And Harley is our target! OUR target! OUR mission! MY BIKE NEEDS –!"

"I don't CARE if –!"

"See? She don't care. No weddin' bells."

"Amen, bro."

Another ten minutes passed. Yellerbax eventually trailed away behind them, leaving only a relatively narrow surfaced road that sliced darkly through an expanse of bleached yellow desert with bruised purple cliffs far in the east. The ruins of old buildings, half-desecrated by bombs and ransackings, still stood about twenty metres away from the side of the road. Throttle was shocked, even with all the things that he'd seen, to find that there were still people living here along the sides of the road, both in the destroyed buildings and in dirty tents. They would scuttle away a few metres as soon as they saw any approaching traffic and would stare with fearful eyes. They were more like animals, not people.

Karma seemed just as surprised – if that was the right word – to see them as he was. "Je-sus – nobody's cleared up Beggary yet."

"What's Beggary?"

"Places like this, outside Yellerbax. Doesn't matter where it is, 'slongs its outside the city we call it Beggary. The people here can't afford to live in the city, they're too poor. They don't want to anyway. They were always there when I was a kid, stealing food in the markets and then walking back here in the evening. If any buildings close to the edge of Yellerbax got bombed during the night, sure as Hell they'd move in by morning. It's part of their culture, it's just what they do. People always said they'd disappear when the war was over – shit –" Karma swerved as she nearly hit a beggar who was too slow to get off the road.

"Look what you did!"

"Don't you dare argue with me about my driving, Vincent van fucking Wham –"

They passed a few more parts of Beggary as they continued along the road. On the odd occasion, the buildings and tents would turn into villages, of a sort. Yellerbax country must have been much more populated at some point. Throttle gazed at the scenery. Modo hummed something that sounded like a lullaby. Karma's voice was going from husky to hoarse. Vinnie was becoming shrill. "How is this any different to a team effort? We're here, we're a team, END OF STORY!"

Karma began to laugh cruelly. "A freakin' team?" She stopped to clear her throat – her voice was going. "You weren't much of an advocate of team –"

"I was! You're just being bitchy because you've never had to do this before."

Karma audibly groaned. "Where did this little bitch session come from?" she muttered, half to herself. Throttle piped up.

"Vinnie didn't get his bike serviced by Hew."

"That's right." Another tiny Beggary nation, which looked larger than the others that they'd previously passed, emerged near the dusty horizon. "You're jealous."

Vinnie took her bait like magic. "I am not."

"Fuck off, you so are."

"Of what?"

"Of me being able to get small perks, just because I've been in this business for longer than you have. And that is considerable, because you've been in this for, what… five days? If that? Hew is not some servant or a grease-monkey. He serviced my bike as a favour, shut up –" she snarled as Vinnie opened his mouth to whinge again, "– and why does your bike even need a service anyway? Looks fine to me. Anyway, my point is that Hew is a friend. He didn't even need to service Baby and he did regardless. He's not going to be wasting his time making your little red racer a little shinier."

Vinnie didn't speak for a few minutes. All that was audible was the rumble of engines. The approaching slum grew in front of their eyes.

"OK." Vinnie sounded slightly calmer. "I do think it's a little less than fair." They passed the first tent of the slum. Throttle was surprised to see there were quite a few buildings up ahead – the edges of the town were in ruins, but the heart was mostly intact. They were so far away from anywhere that it seemed out of place.

"And?" Karma's voice was resigned.

"Maybe you could make it fair."

"By?"

"By giving us the same… perks."

The Beggary slum had clearly been a small town before being blown up half to Hell – the road they were taking was being treated as the main street, with dusty tracks snaking away to what might have once been houses and obviously were still being treated as such. They clearly still had some form of electricity, because even from this distance Throttle could see neon lights sparkling on the larger buildings that lined the main street. They passed a sign that was no longer legible, a gravestone to what this place had once been.

For some strange reason Karma began to slow down. "Ah, jeez. I give up. If you wanna get your bike serviced, I'm happy to give you plenty of time to get it serviced. Solved?"

Vinnie harrumphed. "I still think you should have told Hew to –"

"Do you want a smack?

"You know, that is the one phrase that has always pissed me off. My mother used to say that to me, 'do you want a smack?', and I'm like 'Well, no, not really'. That and 'do you want me to come over there?' I was like 'no, fuckin' stay over there' –"

"I dislike you." Karma's bike rolled to a complete stop in the middle of the road, engine still running, and she rolled her shoulders back in a luxurious stretch. The guys dawdled to a halt.

"Why are we stopping?"

"Because we're here." Karma looked at Vinnie with utter disdain.

"What?"

"Are you deaf or merely stupid, Modo?"

"What is this?" Vinnie was looking around like an agitated chicken. "Did we go past Beaconsfield?"

"No, baby. This is Beaconsfield." Karma put her visor down with brief interest. "It's a little different from how I remember."

Throttle was aghast. "You are joking."

"Must've been bombed during the war –"

Vinnie wasn't about to be put back in his place with a few fast facts. "This place is a hole."

"Funny you should mention that." Karma's voice was dry. "Geographically, it is indeed a hole in the ground."

"I can only hope you're trying to be humorous."

"Who says I'm not?"

"Me. Duh." Vinnie rolled his eyes.

"Oh, and you're such a great judge of good clean fun."

Vinnie was quiet for a second. "No I'm not."

"That's the point, idiot, I'm being sarcastic."

"Well, you suck at it. Seriously, you've been like this all day, what's up your butt?"

"You." Karma said it without thinking; her eyes widened and she spun around. "I take it back, I take it back, please do not make any dirty reference to anything!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"You think I'm a bitch."

"I'm not a bitch. I'm merely bitchin'."

Modo chimed in. "Vinnie, ya're gettin' on mah nerves as well."

"Sorry, bro. It's just that she's so funny when she's PMS-ing."

Karma couldn't reach him with her arm, so her long blonde tail flashed out to smack the back of his helmet. "Fuck you, Snow-Balls. C'mon, lets go find somewhere to stay."

"You didn't even ask me this time."

"Ask you what?"

"If I wanted a smack –"

Whack.

"Oww…"


Beaconsfield was a surprising little gem cast in the surrounding wasteland. Throttle counted eleven mostly-intact buildings lining either side of the main street, including a few shops, bike repairs – and a strip club. Devil's Den, it was called, or at least that's what it said on the sizzling pink-and-blue sign above the grotty doorway. Open til early. Strange that a strip club would be able to stay open in a place like this. Strange that anything would be able to stay open, come to think.

Karma caught him staring at the club. "You curious?"

"Um… kind of."

Vinnie and Modo turned simultaneously to stare at him in complete bewilderment, but Karma chuckled. "You never know, we might get to go in there at some point."

"Ha! Karma made a funny."

"You forget, Snow-Balls, that I don't have a sense of humour."

"It was a bad funny."

"Do you want another smack?"

"Why do you keep asking stupid questions?"

Karma growled to herself, parked Baby beside the road and walked off in search of the pub ("the source of all things knowledgeable and good", quipped Vinnie), telling them to wait for her. She walked off with a swagger in her step, like she owned this dusty, dirty little town.

Throttle leaned on his bike's front handlebars and checked out the scenery. There didn't seem to be a lot of people around, which was weird for a town this big, even if the town had had the shit bombed out of it. Right now the only people he could see were two scraggly teenagers, a boy and a girl, smoking outside the bike repairs shop, and an elderly woman pottering around the front of her supplies store. These places were unusual for their area – instead of being stilted with a veranda, they were made of solid white brick and stone, boxy with tiny windows and flat rooves, sometimes almost cubic. The strip club was the only building that was remarkably different – it was made of red stone with double doors, currently closed, and large windows criss-crossed with tiny wire so it was difficult to see everything that was going on inside. Probably a coaxing tactic to get people to go inside. It was the largest building in the whole street, most likely in the whole of Beaconsfield. Throttle could see a petrol engine down the side – so that's where they get their energy. It was dark inside – the lights probably went on at night.

"Where is everyone?"

"Ah dunno. Ah was wond'rin mahself."

"Well, I think I can find out." Vinnie jumped off his bike and approached Baby's saddlebag. Baby rumbled warily and inched out of his way.

"Easy, girl, I'm only getting one thing."

Baby growled, clearly unsure what to do. She skittered a few time as Vinnie carefully rummaged through her saddle-bags, talking to her like she was a nervous animal. "Easy, girl, it's OK… I'll be done soon. That's it, you're fine, aren't you…?"

"It's just sort of wrong the way you're talking to her, Vincent."

"Hey, I'm an expert at soothing a nervous woman." Vinnie tutted at Baby, who almost shivered and made a voomy-voom sound in response.

"What am I doing?"

"Getting bribes."

"For what…?"

Just then Vinnie produced a packet of cigarettes and triumphantly closed Baby's saddlebag. Baby edged away and stared at him, grumbling. "I have the bribes. Now I need the bribee." He raised his voice and yelled in the direction of the two teenagers down the street. "Hey kid! Come over here!"

The two teenagers jumped and looked at him, startled. Vinnie raised the packet of cigarettes above his head. "Come over here!"

The guy began to move off, obviously rattled, but the girl looked at her companion with great disdain. It was so still in the town that they could hear her from far away; "Yeh wimp. I ken't unnda'sten whah I heng out witcha."

She grinned with yellow teeth as she sucked on a cigarette that she'd rolled herself as she wandered over towards them. Her accent was extremely heavy and her fur was incredibly red, even redder than that of some people in Yellerbax. She wore dirty black eyeliner that had smeared a little. "Kinna help yeh, gennel'mern?"

Vinnie waited for her to reach them before he spoke again. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Naaaaa." She drew it out, long and slow. "Ah from de North. Not de North North, not de darkie terri'try. Jus' North."

"What's your name?"

"Rekker'ning. Are dem feh me?" Reckoning eyed Karma's cigarettes in Vinnie's hand.

"Depends. You want 'em?"

"I'm eddick'ted. Best poison dere is 'round here."

"For every question we ask, you get a cigarette. Deal?"

"Ooh, I like det. Go fer it."

"Ask away, my bros." Vinnie sat back on his bike, obviously very satisfied with himself. Reckoning turned to them, scarlet eyes wide.

Modo started up hesitantly. "We was jist wondrin' where everyone was."

"Ah, dey here n' dere. Dis town ent too big." She snapped her fingers. "Cigga?"

Vinnie handed her one and she tucked it behind her ear. "Ta. Next?"

"It looks pretty big to me."

She smiled at Throttle. "Lutta pipple left hurr long tam ago, left homes n' shops n' sturrf lak det. Other pipple, dey com 'round, here n' dere. Mah femmily, dey come runnin' frum de Plutarkians, come down here. Some pipple live here, but we git lotta other pipple who come here temporary, dey stay a week, dey pay, dey leave, dey come bek. Works fer ivvyone. Cigga."

Vinnie handed her another cigarette – this one she tucked into her jeans. "Enneh'thin else, gennel'mern?"

"There's nobody here." Throttle wasn't satisfied. "You said people leave, people come back – for all we know the only people actually here are you and us."

Reckoning laughed in his face. "You jus here et de wrong tarm."

"Oh yeah?"

"Durin' de day, ivvyone's slih'pin. But when de sun go down, dis pless come al'aave." Reckoning was smiling, half to herself. "If yeh stey de night, yeh might fund out. Best yeh don't faand out naow. Jus weit n' see fer yeh'selves." She looked at Vinnie, who handed her two cigarettes.

"Go enjoy those."

"Ta much. Mebbe see yeh when de sun go down." She laughed again and walked back to her male friend.

Karma came back at that moment, walking up behind them. "Chattin' to the locals?"

"You could say. What news do you bring, pretty lady?"

"Good news and better news. We have a place to stay, the publican reckons he's got two rooms above his lovely little bar that are always open for rent, and they've never been used –"

"What, never never?"

"Never ever never."

"In a prime real estate location like this?"

"You're running out of oil, van Wham, that wasn't even original."

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder."

"Make me laugh on the inside."

"Do my best." Vinnie saluted.

Karma walked up to Baby and fished around in her saddlebag. "Fuck. Where are my cigarettes?"

"I got 'em." Vinnie held them out to her.

"Gimme those!" Karma snatched them out of his hand. "What are you doing with my cigarettes?"

"Gave a few to the local girl in order to answer questions."

"Baby, why did you not rip him in half?"

Baby growled in response, one low throbbing purr that lasted for a long while. Karma's jaw went slightly slack. "He… what, why?"

If Throttle didn't know better, Baby was the epitome of complete embarrassment. Karma clucked over her like a desert hen. "Are… are you OK?"

Baby made the R2-D2 whoopy-whistle sound and Karma touched her dash. "It's OK. We'll get you bike counselling… or something." She glared at Vinnie. "Idiot. Don't touch my bike."

"I won't, in future."

"Pervert. Taking advantage of a helpless bike like that." Karma mounted Baby and trundled up the road, sulking.

Vinnie spread his hands skyward. "What? I did nothing."

Throttle sighed. "Come on, Vinnie." They followed Karma up the road.


The pub was dark and just as empty as the rest of Beaconsfield, except for the publican. He introduced himself as Thriller, and even when he was talking to someone else, he was always looking at Karma. He looked youngish, around his late twenties, and he wasn't being sleazy – it seemed he was more shellshocked that anyone, forget a tall leggy blonde, was staying in the rooms above his bar. He let them in behind the counter and up a narrow staircase to two tiny rooms and an even tinier bathroom that somehow managed to fit in a shower, a sink and a toilet in less than two metres by two metres. There were two couches and two beds. Just enough room for all of them.

"Mighty clean for someone whose never lived here." Karma was trying to be friendly to Thriller, but he only reacted to anything that she said with a mixture of alarm and a sort of eagerness to please.

"M-my wife takes care of it. We used to live up here but… but we don't anymore. She keeps it clean. We got another place. She's here at night and I'm here during the day."

"Must be tough on the marriage."

"Oh, we see each other in passing. When we get enough money we're moving." He sounded far too idealistic for someone of his age and Throttle wondered if he was a lot younger than he looked. Life must be very tough around here.

"Sounds like a plan." Karma was charming to the end.

Thriller ducked his head. "So… how, how long are you planning on staying?"

"Oh, maybe a few nights. You'll be paid, trust me."

"Yes." He clearly couldn't think of anything to say.

Karma just smiled at him. "Thanks, Thriller."

"Oh, that's fine, that's fine. I'll um… I'll leave you, then. Are you coming out tonight?"

Karma raised an eyebrow. "What's that mean?"

"Oh. You don't know. Beaconsfield comes alive at night."

"Uh-huh." Karma raised her other eyebrow.

Thriller looked like he'd said too much. "Just, y'know, come out and look… come out and look at night. Anyway, I'll see you guys later."

"Bye-bye." He closed the door behind him and they heard him clunking down the stairs.

Karma's mouth opened in a smile. "'Bye-bye'? Oh, that's cute." She went to the only window in the whole complex and opened it. A slow wind dribbled inside. "Beaconsfield comes alive at night, does it…?"

"That's what that kid said too." Vinnie was clearly keen to be helpful. "And that people come and go."

"That so?"

"Yeah. She might have just wanted the cigarettes, though."

"Hmmm." Karma fiddled with her hair, hooking a black stripe with one finger and looking at it thoughtfully. "Interesting."

She straightened up. "Anyway, make yourselves at home." She chucked the keys in Throttle's direction, not even noticing that he almost didn't catch them. "I'm going for a walk."

"What, again?"

"Obviously yes."

"Where to?"

"Anywhere away from you, Vincent. Around town, scope things out…"

"When you gonna be back, Miss Karma?"

"Couple of hours, maybe. Not too long. See ya, boys!" She swung out the doorway and shut it with a slam.

"She's a woman of mystery, she is." Vinnie crossed his arms and gazed fondly after her. "You can never quite get to the bottom of Miss Karma Supersede."

"Amen, bro." Modo sighed and sat down on one of the teeny tiny couches, which creaked under his weight. "Ah put dibs on the midget couch. No way am ah sleepin' in the same room with the lady."

"Why?"

"She so unpredictable, she ma'at have some notion of tryin'a murder someone wha'ale they sleepin'."

Throttle sort of smiled. Sort of. "What, you're scared of a pretty blonde?"

"She ain't no pretty blonde, Throttle."

"True." Throttle suddenly felt incredibly tired. "I'm gonna have a nap, man. Wake me up if you have to."

"Sure, bro. Sleep well. Ah'm gonna go look for some food."

Throttle walked into the other room and lay down on one of the miniscule beds. Looked like he was bunking with Karma tonight. Not that he minded. She wasn't as vicious or as mood-swingy as she made out.

He took a deep breath and sighed. He didn't want to get up. He hadn't had time to really stop and think about things for a few days, and there was a lot to think about.

He summarised everything that had happened so far in his head. Carbine had sent them on a mission to find Harley for reasons mysterious. They'd been partnered with Karma, with whom pretty much everyone had a love-hate – mostly hate, sometimes begrudgingly appreciative – relationship. They'd picked up one lead that had led them here, a bombed-out town that only came alive at night. Makes it sound like a zombie. Or Dracula. When Charley had first mentioned the Dracula story, he'd been struck by the word. It sounded like a striking kind of name. A good name for a boy. Unusual, but a strong name. There would be intrigue behind that name back on Mars. Dra-kyoo-la.

Why had he been thinking about baby names that day?

Carbine and him had had a deep-and-meaningful on that day, he remembered. Somehow they'd gotten onto the subject of marriage and babies, and it was as though they were lying next to each other. The kind of intimacy that comes after lovemaking or traumatic events. They would just tell each other anything. They talked about where and when they were going to get married when he came home, how many kids they wanted (she wanted two girls, he wanted a girl and a boy and then twins, in that order), what they were going to call them. Megami. Salient. Ambience. Dash (Carbine hadn't liked that one. It was too short, she said). Celerity (hers. Throttle would have liked it if he hadn't heard of the Earth vegetable "celery"). It had been a good talk and kept him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

It was the closest moment that he'd had with her while he was on Earth. And when he came back, she was waiting for him, as lean and beautiful as ever. And he embraced her, wanted to tell her that he loved her.

She'd taken him aside. We need to talk.

My God, we do. I'm so happy I'm home, baby, we need to get started on this marriage right away –

The look on her face had made him stop. She took a deep breath. I can't marry you.

He'd been so confused, thinking he'd done something wrong, willing to do anything that she wanted to make this work, because she was his whole world. She was his future. She was all that he'd ever thought about for years, his aim, his purpose, his dream.

And she told him, in a steady voice and unblinking eyes, that it wasn't going to work. It was never going to work, really. We fell in love when we were kids, you left when we were kids – I've grown up, this would never cut it for me. I'm not sorry. This had to happen. I'm not sorry.

Throttle remembered briefly that the guy's name was Velochette.

It was one of the names they'd liked for their kids. For a girl, though. Not a boy.

It seemed distant now. Like it was someone else breaking up with Carbine, not him. Something about this trip had made him unconsciously accept the whole thing. He didn't know when. Maybe it was the talk he'd had with Modo at Mrs. Madde's house, or when he'd had that fantastic dinner at the Reconnoitre household, or when Karma had tried to defuse the dud mine he stepped on.

Karma.

…Karma.

She was just in his head. No reason. She was just there. Sitting in a chair, watching him. Her tiger-striped hair shone in a disembodied light and the scar on her chin was twitching rhythmically. She gave him a beautiful smile, such a beautiful smile, and smoothed out her hair. Her hands left bloody smears in their wake.

"Why are your hands bleeding?" he asked.

"Cos my heart's bleeding. I bleed everywhere."

"Can we fix it?"

"Maybe."

"Karma?"

But she wasn't there anymore.

It was OK. He was only dreaming.

She'd be somewhere.


I know. It's called dramatic tension. You'll find out what happens next, chickens.

Review away!