Chapter- 4
"What part of just gather intel did the three of you not understand?" Stoker was not impressed with the returning mice; less impressed with himself for trusting them to follow simple instructions.
"We weren't going to allow those mutts to keep Charlene there," Throttle gestured to the human woman. "I mean we're freedom fighters. Doesn't matter if we're freeing citizens from Plutarkians or desert bandits."
"Martian citizens," Stoker replied. "We don't even know where she is from."
"Earth," the bros said in unison.
"How did she get here?"
"She hasn't told us," said Throttle.
"Is she a spy?"
"I don't think so."
"You don't think, or you don't know?"
Charley clung onto the blanket still draped around her and prayed this back and forth would finish soon. The conversation between the four mice was getting heated and drawing a crowd. There were about twenty of these freedom fighters, the colors of their fur varied between shades of brown and grey, Vinnie stuck out as the only white one. Most of them, including the leader Stoker, wore what appeared to be military uniforms. She couldn't tell what was going through their minds as they watched the three mice who rescued her argue with their leader. Having all their eye on her, all at once, made her feel more exposed than ever. The primitive part of her brain kept telling her to run and hide, but she stood there beside Vinnie's cherry red bike knowing that it was pointless to run.
"You say she is a mechanic," said Stoker as the argument reached its crescendo. "We don't know if she's any good or if she'll work for us."
"Your intelligence said she was good," Vinnie quipped.
"And she doesn't owe us anything," Modo added. "We promised her we would free her once we got back to base."
"I am not prepared to let an unknown alien walk around all of Tharsis when we don't know if we can trust her."
"Let me fix their bikes then," Charley spoke up. Stoker, the bros, and all the other mice looked at her. "They are in need of a tune up anyway. If all your other freedom fighters ride their bike the same way as those three do, I'm surprised that any of these bikes are still in working condition."
Stoker made his way to Charley. He stood face to face with her, that is, face to chest. Charley craned her neck to look the old mouse in his eyes. "And what guarantee do I have that you won't sabotage the rides?"
"You don't. Just make the same deal with me as Slobber did. I'll fix your rides, if you're not happy with the results you can tear me limb from limb. Or just have one of your men gun me down for your entertainment. I don't know what freedom it is you all are fighting for, I'm just trying to live another day, and if all it takes for me to survive here is to repair a few bikes, I guarantee you I am the best goddamned mechanic you will find on Earth or Mars."
Charley looked at Stoker who seemed taken aback by her offer. Her eyes moved to the other three. Their faces were hard to read; somewhere in between shock and impressed. She looked back to Stoker. "Those guys saved me from Slobber, I owe them. They say I don't, but I do. I'll give their bikes a tune up, and you can see for yourself how good I am."
Stoker closed his eyes and hung his head. He touched the fingers on his left hand to his brow and rubbed his temple with his thumb. He was tired. Too tired to carry on arguing in circles with his comrades. His freedom fighters didn't have the resources the military had; their rides have been falling into disrepair ever since their last one was abducted. Maybe if he gives this human a chance, she might prove to be a blessing for them.
"Tomorrow morning," Stoker said. "It's late in the day, I'm sure you are tired and hungry. Get something to eat and we'll get you a place to sleep. Rimfire will check you over if you're hurt. In the morning, you can work on their bikes, I am going to watch you. I can't offer you a job; we're volunteers here. If you impress me, I'll let you stay with us. You'll have a place to live, food, shelter, shower, and can come and go as you please and leave whenever you want."
He extended his right hand to Charley to solidify their arrangement. Charley reached her arm out from the blanket to meet his grasp.
"Don't the lot of you have anything better to do than stand around here?" Stoker called out to his men.
"Not really," someone shouted back from the crowd of mice, which got a few laughs, but they understood the message and began to disburse.
Stoker walked off in one direction which Throttle, Vinnie, and Modo escorted Charley down another leading to living quarters. The entire building was carved out of rock at the base of a dormant volcano. A trail of hanging wires above provided electricity to the light fixtures above; they had a temporary look too them. Down the hall Charley was able to look into opened doors that lead to shared accommodations, a recreation room, a dining hall, and what she hoped was lavatories.
"Before you get fully settled in, I figure you wouldn't mind a shower," Throttle said. everything here may be a bit spartan, but we do have fine powder for showering."
Modo chucked, "Yeah, after a long day of kicking Plutarkian ass, the last thing anyone wants to do is wash themselves with sandpaper."
"We can get you some new close to change into once you are clean," said Throttle.
Charley had to stop for a second to process what they said, "What do you mean powder?"
The bros stopped and gave Charley a puzzled look. "For a sand shower," Throttle said. "To clean your fur. How do humans shower?"
"With water."
The jaws on all three mice dropped. "Isn't that wasteful?" Modo sounded more accusatory than he meant. The idea of a water shower was just too alien for them.
"No. I mean, yeah if you take a forty-five-minute shower with hot water is a bit much, but you shower with soap and water to get clean."
Charley laughed at the ridiculousness of having to explain how a shower works. Her smile slowly disappeared as she came to the realization that these mice were going to have to show her how a Martian shower worked.
Sand showers were the most popular and effective way for all Martians to clean themselves: an antimicrobial mineral, pulverised into soft powdery sand, is blown through a hose with an aerated nozzle to remove dirt, excess oils, and parasites from fur. After that, a quick blow dry with air to remove any sand that remained on the body. The best part was the sand could be recycled for later use.
Charley made the mistake of inhaling the sand as she attempted to wash her face and had a coughing fit. While the shower took some time getting used to, she was able to get herself clean. The whole experience was nowhere near as comforting as a shower back on earth, but the sand shower seemed to do wonders for her hair's volume.
She pulled open the drape and stepped outside into the changeroom of the communal shower. The room was empty except for a set of close folded neatly on a bench. An ivory-colored sleeveless shirt that had the same feel as cotton, and a pair of green slacks that had a hole in the back for a tail to fit though. There were no undergarments. Charley could live without the comfort of that for now, she was just happy that the shirt was long enough to cover the hole that exposed her ass.
Throttle was waiting for her when she exited the showers. "There are a couple more outfits for you in your room. Also, we got you a sewing kit so you could so up the…"
"the butt holes?"
Throttle laughed. "Let's get some dinner."
The two backtracked to the dining hall; an undecorated room with two tables large enough to fit twelve. Modo was sitting near the end of one table, a smaller grey mouse with black and orange hair sat beside him; Vinnie sat on the other side directly across from the small mouse. Charley took the seat beside Vinnie and across from Modo, and Throttle sat at the end of the table.
"You must be Charlene," the young mouse said. "My uncle told me about you, I'm Rimfire. I'm the field medic here."
The mouse was altogether way too enthusiastic for Charley's liking; like a child pretending to be grown up. Nevertheless, Charley was able to muster up a smile for the kid, "Nice to Rimfire." She looked down at the bowl that was in front of her. Inside of it was a thick goopy porridge-like meal with chunks of grey meat. She looked up to the mice, "Could one of you tell me what I'm about to eat?"
"Sand squid," Vinnie said with his mouth full. He paused to swallow what was in his mouth. "Stewed sand squid and winter bulgar. It's not bad, not great but it fills you up."
"Our meals are prepared by the brothers in the monastery," Rimfire added "They care more about sustenance than flavour."
Charley grabbed the spoon by her bowl and brought some of the stew to her mouth. It was bland, in her opinion could use some salt and a bit of balsamic to balance the flavours. But it was warm, filling, and the first full meal Charley had while on Mars. She began to wolf down her bowl.
"After dinner you should really let me check you out," Rimfire said as Charley was chewing on a rather tough piece of squid. She coughed as she swallowed the piece whole rather than spit it into her bowl. She looked up at the young mouse, trying hard not to let her true emotions shows. Rimfire returned her gaze with utter confusion, "It's just because… you look hurt and I'm the field medic here."
"No thank you," Charley said as calmly as she could try. "I'll be fine."
"But some of those wounds look-"
"I said, no thank you. I'll be fine."
"Drop it kid," Modo said to his nephew. "We all know you mean well but you need to let Charlene be."
Rimfire's gaze travelled from his uncle to the other mice, and finally landed back on Charley. He was quiet as he thought for a moment. "I can give you a first aid kit, you can tend to yourself when you are in room. It's good for treating superficial wounds, but if there is something that isn't healing right or looks infected, I can talk to Stoker about getting you to a doctor."
Charley could feel her façade breaking. She kept her left arm hidden under the table and began to sink her nails into the soft skin under her knee; she needed to focus on that pain to stop herself from crying in public. "Thank you Rimfire, I appreciate that." With that, Charley was able to finish her meal in silence.
After their meal, Throttle brought Charley back to where the shared bedrooms. The rooms were large enough for two bunk beds with four lockers spaced in between. One light fixture hung from the ceiling. On one of the bottom bunks was another pile of clothes.
"If you need anything we're just down the hall," Throttle pointed out the door to where he and his bros slept. "You have a busy morning ahead of you so try to get some rest."
Throttle stood at the threshold of Charley's new room. "You're the only one in this room, you have your privacy, no one is going to bother you while you are here."
Charley stared back at Throttle. He thought as though she might actually believe him. He could sense there was a spark in her, something that those dog mutts tried to snuff out. If they could gain her trust, she might tell them how she got to Mars, if the Plutarkians are involved in some way. Maybe Carbine could help; having a woman to talk to instead of a cave full of men. He'd talk to Stoker tonight about it, she was planning on visiting him anyway.
"Good night, Charlene."
"Good night," Charley replied as she shut the door quietly. The last thing Throttle heard as he walked in the direction of Stoker's room was the click of door lock.