A/N I DON'T OWN SKYLAND.
The star studded sky over Babylonia was cloudless; the crickets chirped and the wind whistled through the grassy fields. A few fireflies grouped in the front yard of a rundown farm house that was usually empty and lifeless. But tonight, the small amber flicker of a gas lamp could be seen through the thin, moth eaten curtains of the front windows.
Inside the living room, a young guardian was lying on the sofa; she couldn't sleep. In the upper loft, a young man had made a makeshift bed on the floor with old, dusty blankets. He was sound asleep, as if he had not a care in the world. Of course, this was because he was exhausted and he had had a throbbing headache ever since waking up in the back seat of his own ship. This, he had not mentioned to the girl. Marcus was not one to voice his emotions easily.
The unlikely pair had ended up staying the night inside the old house since there was nothing to do yet about the ship. It was taking longer than normal to recharge; they were stranded. At least there was still some water in the cistern outside and remaining provisions in the kitchen cabinets and cellar.
Mila lay there for quite a while before finally succumbing to sleep. She was scared that Farrell might sneak up to her during the night to kill her. She doubted it but still… at least she would be prepared. She could fight if it came to that. What bothered her was the fact that he was acting as if she was no threat at all which, frankly, was insulting.
Also, the sofa was uncomfortable and it smelled faintly like mold. She shivered and turned on her side; it was cold here at night without a furnace, or any electricity for that matter. She kept glancing at the miniature hole in the wall, searching for the trace of a small claw or a whisker; she certainly didn't want the rat to venture towards her while she was sleeping.
I don't like rats, I don't like rats... I. Don't. Like. Rats.
Who knew what kind of diseases that creature could spread? In the end, the sound of snoring coming from upstairs reassured her and she fell asleep.
After what seemed like an eternity, morning light filtered through the curtains; Mila squinted as the sun rays coated her face. She opened her eyes, which flashed bright blue, and her pupils retracted under the bright sunlight.
Confusion lingered until she remembered what had happened the day before. The seijin sat up and looked drowsily around the living room. Books were scattered on the floor, a chair was overturned in the corner. A fine layer of dust coated everything, like the delicate film of winter's first snow. The last inhabitants of the house had left in a hurry... Or else someone had robbed it. Then again, perhaps there had been fighting and struggling when the Sphere officials had arrived to kill Farrell's father.
Could it be true? Had the Sphere really done this? Sure. She had seen too much to confirm otherwise.
But, they must have had a good reason, she thought. He was spreading rebellious ideas… Well, look no further. He was a criminal; just like Marcus. And she had broken the chain by rescuing the pirate; how strange.
How could she have strayed away from the Sphere? What was it about this pirate that made her doubt where her loyalties belonged?
The atmosphere emanated some kind of silent sorrow; as if the house was sad to have been left alone to crumble. She glanced once more at the upturned picture frame on the end table and couldn't help wondering what had happened to the mother; she felt a strange connection to that photograph, as if it had been her family and not Marcus's. She got up, yawned and stretched.
The sudden silence hit her; something wasn't right... "Umm… Hello?" she asked.
There was no answer.
She climbed the rickety ladder to the loft and peered through the darkness. He wasn't there either.
Upon further inspection, she found that the house was deserted and the rebel was nowhere to be found. She grunted with fury and cursed loudly, her voice echoing through the house. At this moment, the front door opened and Marcus walked inside; there was grease smeared on his cheek and he was clutching a coil of wires in his fist.
"Hyperdrive's fried." He said as Mila eyed him cautiously, she hadn't even combed her hair yet.
"What?" She asked sleepily.
"The Hy-pe-rion, I need to fix it." He repeated slowly, as if speaking to an idiot.
"I know what a hyperdrive is." She answered as they sat at the kitchen table on opposite ends. Oh, so he'd gone out and tried to take off with the Hyperion had he? He'd beaten her to the punch... "Where's your rebel army, shouldn't they be here to rescue you already?"
"Phone lines are dead and the Hyperion's radio doesn't work anymore… Think I messed up the wires while trying to fix it." He dropped the coil of red, blue and green wires on the table as evidence. "Besides, hardly anyone has a working phone in this part of the country." He sighed. "Might take a while to repair the ship."
Mila tensed and stood up, the chair legs skidded noisily on the floor. "No. I need to get out of here," She wouldn't admit it, but some of the things the rebel had told her had given her second thoughts about the Sphere - What if they already knew that she had taken off with a pirate; what if they actually did kill her, for treason? "... They'll find me!"
"It's damaged, what d'you want me to say?" He paused. "Not to mention that escaping in the Hyperion isn't exactly low profile."
"Then why do you use it?" She asked intolerantly, putting her hands on her hips; her black hair gleamed in the morning sun.
"Speed." He said simply. "I can wipe all enemies in battle."
"Great." She glared at him and sat back down on her chair. "So I'm stuck with you now."
"I didn't ask you to take me along, you know. You did that all on your own." Their eyes met. "Why did you do that anyways?" He asked out of pure confusion.
Mila glanced at the young man before her; all the while she combed her loose hair with her fingers, trying to untangle them. There was a tension between the two of them; like interest mingled with fear. Well, there was no harm in telling him now; whether she liked it or not, they were stuck together.
"I just… wouldn't be able to live with myself after killing people." She answered quickly and averted his gaze.
For a moment he said nothing, his calm features changed to puzzlement and his eyebrows knitted. "That's strange." He finally said.
Mila's cheeks flushed bright red. "Well it's not easy when someone forces you to kill-"
"No, not that. It's strange because you're the only guardian I've ever met who would hesitate to use her powers to subjugate others."
Mila was speechless; why was he rubbing her weakness in her face?
"Weird." He mentioned again and he ran his fingers through his short dark hair.
"All right, I get it…" She said, annoyed.
"That's not a flaw you know." He told her with surprising gentleness. There was something in his gaze of his; some kind of concern for her, as if she was the one in more trouble than he was. Mila's shame vanished and she smiled… and then quickly wiped the happiness off her face.
"Okay, let's make a deal." He said and he leaned forwards. "We agree to disagree right?"
"Right…" She said, wondering where he was going with this.
"And we both want to get away from the Sphere right?" His tone was confident and self-assured, as if he was used to finding agreements. Well, he was a rebel leader after all.
"Yes, I suppose..."
"Then help me fix my ship and I'll take you to a nice neutral block where you can ponder all you want about which side you want to be on. Deal?"
Mila cast him a suspicious look before extending her arm towards him. He pulled his hand back abruptly at the last second.
"And, we agree not to kill, harm or take the other prisoner." Mila nodded, relieved that he had been the one to say it.
"Deal." They both said at the same time and shook hands.
"Well, I think it's finished." Marcus said as he climbed out of the Hyperion's cockpit which was still docked on the little quay close to the house. Mila sat aside, her legs dangling over the edge of the dock. The sunset sky over the small, grassy block was golden pink.
"Great." She said, staring at her dirty, oil smeared hands that were afflicted by numerous small cuts.
She did know basic mechanics from the Academy; they were responsible for their S-15's after all, so she was able to help Marcus when repairing the Hyperion. She had to admit that she sometimes didn't understand half of what they were doing but she followed his lead and, in the end, it worked out superbly.
"We can leave first thing tomorrow morning." He said happily, clapping his hands to get the dirt off.
Mila nodded distractedly. Not a living soul knew that they were here since the closest neighbours lived a few miles' flight away; plus, why would anyone come by a ruined farm house? What had first started out as a nerve-racking week had actually turned out to be… well, fun.
The weather had been perfect up to today, light winds and sunshine. And the stars… Oh, the stars… She could see the Milky Way at night, out here where there was no light pollution or smog. Marcus had even taken the time to describe to her the different constellations and the myths associated with them.
The freedom of life without a strict schedule... not having to stress about doing everything perfect… It was liberating. And it took a pirate to show her how to loosen up, to enjoy life.
And, dare she think it; they had sort of become… not friends but acquaintances. Not that she would ever allow herself to voice this opinion. At first, they had argued often –and they still argued often- but as the days progressed, and Mila's guardian life shifted to the back of her thoughts as they concentrated on repairing the Hyperion, they had been forced to get along. It became gradually easier for them to speak without sparking an argument every five minutes when she got to know him better. Marcus surprised her; he wasn't the merciless, cruel criminal stereotyped at the Academy. He was surprisingly smart and... kind even, now that Mila had expressed her reluctance to kill. For instance, he had stopped referring to her as guardian and started calling her Mila just like she switched rebel/pirate/idiot for Marcus.
He sat down next to her on the little wooden quay; he had unbuttoned his dark jacket because of the heat and made visible a thin undershirt that was a khaki green color, his sleeves were rolled up and his opened shirt's collar pointed to the sides. Various birds chattered and tweeted as they fluttered amongst the trees.
"This was a strange week..." Mila said.
"Yeah. Who would have thought that I'd be walking around with a guardian." He spat out the last word like it was something ugly and repulsive. She nudged him aside and he laughed. "So, still thinking of going back to the Sphere?" Marcus asked slyly, trying to sound casual; he was not successful.
Mila looked at the setting sun, turning the clouds from gold to pink. She'd seen too many things to prove what she had been dismissing and now all the puzzle pieces were assembling before her. The time away from it all had made things clear; the Sphere was not what she had thought. What they taught at the Academy differed completely of what they did after graduating.
Living outside the comfort of the Sphere had also given her a dose of real life. Water was not a commodity; it was vital out here. Every last drop meant the world - and to think of the Olympic-sized swimming pools they had at the Academy. She'd never fully understood the water crisis until now. Now that she had experienced real thirst, even with their reasonably filled cistern next to the house, she could deduce that the quantities of water reclaimed in taxes was unreasonable after all. It should be the other way around. The Sphere should come in aid to those dying people, it shouldn't be taking their meager resources away. This wasn't equality, she knew. People on sheltered Sphere blocks were getting more water. Somewhere, somehow, people were suffering. It was a terrible truth.
She looked at Marcus. "No, I won't go back. They lied to me." Even saying those words twisted her heart with sorrow; it was like giving up her only home.
Marcus smiled slightly. "Don't get too smug about it." She warned. "I still don't support what you're doing either."
"Fine." He said, lifting his hands defensively.
"Thanks for, you know… helping me hide and..." Her voice trailed off.
He raised an eyebrow. "I'm the one thanking you. Any other guardian would have killed me right there and then. Actually, I was wondering what you were waiting for… Of course, you did knock me out…" He stared at her, a glint of reproach in his eyes.
"That was your own fault for charging at me like a maniac." She replied, not mentioning that she hadn't even done it on purpose.
He nodded his head from side to side, pondering on what he had done. "Yeah well..." He gave a small laugh, "I guess I sort of deserved that."
Mila briefly thought of what Oslo would have done to him in her place and she shivered inwardly. Oslo was a talented seijin whether others picked on him or not; he was not to be underestimated by his scrawny shape. When it came to seijin to seijin matches, he was gifted. It was lucky that she had gotten to Marcus first.
The pirate leaned back on his elbows and took a sip from his water bottle and Mila swung her legs over the void of blue sky below. "You know Mila, for a guardian I mean… You're an okay girl."
She rolled her eyes. "You're not too bad yourself, pirate."
They both laughed and their eyes met.
"Maybe when you've found your home block…" He said and looked downwards.
"Yes…"
"I could come visit you. See which side you've decided on."
"I'd like that." She answered with a smile.
An intense gaze went between them and they were silent for a moment. Mila noticed his dark eyes which contrasted against the natural shade of green in the tree leaves behind him. It was a strange eye colour; obscure from a distance, but at the moment, the green scenery was reflected on the blackness.
He was good looking; she had to admit. The way his dark hair was always messy and the constant, slight frown on his brow as if he was concentrated on a difficult mathematics question. His tall, lean frame and occasional clumsiness.
Marcus cleared his throat and stood up. Mila snapped back to reality and resisted the urge the slap her own face.
"I'm just going to-" He tripped slightly as he walked backwards towards the Hyperion, his eyes still locked onto hers. "To double check everything for tomorrow."
"Yes." Mila answered as she picked herself up too. For a moment she just stared at him. "I'll head back now – I suppose." She said, pointing at the house behind her.
"Er, yeah – I'll be here." He began assembling his tool box on the Hyperion's front hull and Mila started towards the abandoned farm house.
As soon as she was inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned back on it. She took a breath and couldn't help a smile from forming on her lips. Her cheeks were burning. Her heart was racing. She'd never felt this way before. What was going on? Was she sick? Dehydrated maybe? A week ago she'd been a successful guardian, maybe even on her way to becoming Commander one day. She had thrown it all away in an impulse to save Marcus; he was the enemy.
It was confusion beyond belief.
Mila peered downwards and noticed a small brown lump with beady black eyes looking up at her, sniffing the air. It was the rat.
Marcus had named him Pete, for reasons she could not possibly understand, and it had sort of become his pet. Marcus fed it leftovers and could even pat the small rodent, much to his delight while Mila watched incredulously. The other day, he had dared her to touch Pete, or was she too scared of the rat? So she had reached forward and the little monster had bitten her finger.
Oh, but it loved Marcus of course.
Right now, it looked up at her expectantly, reaching its little claws upwards; demanding for food. Even if the rodent was under Marcus's protection, she didn't like it coming within one metre's distance from her. In fact, she couldn't understand why Marcus liked it; he seemed to be the kind of person who liked animals, she supposed. He was quite strange this pirate... She knew there was malevolence hidden in the rat's furry face however, whether Marcus believed her or not. Why, just this morning, the little demon had stolen her shoe and she would have lost it had it not been able to fit it through the hole in the wall.
"Shoo – Go away Pete…" She took a menacing step forwards and Pete scuttled away, glancing back at her with what must have been a ratty glare before entering his hole.
Mila sat on the kitchen counter and took a sip from her water bottle, peering outside the window that gave view of an overgrown backyard and a collapsed red painted shed. Some wild blueberry bushes grew next to the ruined shed; they had eaten all the fruits during the week; somehow, they had tasted more fresh and flavoursome than the ones she had eaten at the Academy, which were at least twice as big and yet more watery.
Mila was constantly second guessing. Marcus couldn't be trusted… Of course not. He would probably set a trap to kill her or leave her on some deserted block. And yet, something inside her told her that he wouldn't, which was all the more frustrating.
Why did he treat her like this after what she had done?
He was forgiving; a characteristic that was her complete opposite. She didn't deserve this sympathy.
She hated him for being so perfect.
A/N Well? Review! Laissez un commentaire!