The others had gathered around the table, Viola filling bowls of soup from the now-uncovered tureen as Ruth passed around a basket filled with a variety of bread rolls. Ottilie seized her spoon as if it were some sort of shoveling tool and began eating her soup with gusto. Ebba beside her was more delicate, carefully blowing off each spoonful before bringing it to her lips. Clementine was tearing a roll into small pieces and dropping them into her soup. For a moment it looked like a family reunited after many years, a little awkward with each other but still feeling the bonds of kin. Only Warrior, off to the side still nursing the sick cat, didn’t quite fit the picture.
Scout wasn’t sure she fit either. The only space left at the table was next to where Liv had parked her hover chair. Scout sat down and took the bowl Viola handed her.
“Thank you,” she said. “Really. I know we’re an intrusion.”
Viola made a grunt that could have meant anything. “I apologize for the rude welcome. I don’t get many visitors. I don’t like visitors. Still, it’s not the way my parents raised me. I have enough to share, please eat all you like.”
“What is this place?” Scout asked as she reached for the basket of rolls. “You look like a supply depot, but you’re so hidden away.”
“My customers know how to find me,” Viola said. “My grandparents started this business from the early days. It was still booming in my parents’ day. Not so much now.”
“Speaking of parents,” Liv said from Scout’s other side, “where are yours?”
“Dead since the war,” Scout said, she hoped forcefully enough that Liv would drop the matter.
“Soldiers?” Liv asked.
“Civilians,” Scout said. “They were in Sunshine Valley.”
Viola and Liv both sucked in a long breath. “I’m so sorry,” Liv said, reaching out to grasp Scout’s hand.
“That must’ve been hard for you,” Viola said. “What were you, twelve?”
“Ten,” Scout said. “I’ve done okay.”
“Sunshine Valley,” Liv said as she chewed a bit of bread. “A lot of communications officers were stationed there.”
“My parents worked in communications, before I was born,” Scout said. “They left the military to start a bakery.”
“And you were away the day the rock fell,” Liv guessed.
“Rock fell,” Ruth said bitterly. “Nice. Like it just happened to happen.”
“We all know how it happened,” Viola said.
“And we all know who made it happen,” Ruth said.
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of all this,” Ottilie said. “Your daddy’s been on about it for years now and what good does it do?”
“What good does it do?” Ruth repeated, and Scout could sense a lengthy lecture coming on. She wasn’t entirely annoyed when Liv clutched her hand to get her attention. Liv gestured with her hand for Scout to lean in closer.
“I’m just wondering—is it possible I knew your parents?” Liv asked.
“I don’t know, were you familiar with the bakers of Sunshine Valley?” Scout asked.
“No, I think I knew them from before then. From my work in communications.”
“Not in Sunshine Valley.”
“Yes, actually. I had been transferred to the capital just two weeks before that day,” Liv said. “But I think I remember your parents. Your father, his name was . . . Antonio? He had dark, thick, curly hair and a great big smile. Your mother I don’t remember as well. She was so quiet. But she had your eyes.” Liv reached up and pushed back Scout’s hat. She lifted the sweat-dampened curls off of Scout’s brow. “And your hair. It’s hard to tell in this light, but I bet it shines like honey in the sun.”
“I don’t know, it’s hard for me to see it,” Scout said. But it felt like a fist was squeezing her heart. She truly didn’t look at her own hair much, but her mother’s she remembered very well. It had indeed shone like honey in the sun.
“They were working with the rebels, weren’t they?” Liv said, leaning closer still to whisper directly in Scout’s ear. She pulled back and gave Scout a knowing smile. Scout felt like her ears were ringing, like the whole rest of the room had faded away. Could it be true?
“They were bakers,” Scout said, but not as certainly as she would have liked.
Liv looked her over very carefully, as if the truth of the past were written on her face. She smiled again and gave Scout’s hand a pat. “As you like, dear.”
“If they had been spies, they would’ve left the city. Right?” she asked.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Liv said, turning her attention back to her food. “It was a long time ago. I’m probably misremembering. And it was all just rumors anyway.”
Scout looked down at her food, no longer hungry. Why was Liv bringing it up if it all had just been rumors?
But maybe it hadn’t been. She remembered again that momentary look on her father’s face. Had he known?
The argument at the other end of the table had also ground to a halt, apparently with many bad feelings all around. The muscles in Ottilie’s arms were tense, her grip on her spoon so tight her knuckles were white. Ebba was looking at her with fond concern. Ruth looked like she might burst into tears but had no one to comfort her. Clementine was ignoring everything around her, poking with her spoon into a bowl that was more bread than soup. Viola also seemed unconcerned with the others around her, ladling more soup into a bowl and helping herself to another crusty roll.
Scout got up from the table, nearly tripping over Shadow, who had been lurking near her feet. She gave him the uneaten half of her roll, then went over to the bar where Warrior was sitting alone next to the cat. The cat was quite asleep, and Girl had also conked out, limbs sprawled everywhere behind the bar. Warrior had that strange tablet in her hands again, thumbs moving over invisible keys with dizzying speed.
“How’s Tubbins doing?” Scout asked.
“Well enough,” Warrior said, not looking up from her tablet.
“I guess you weren’t hungry,” Scout said.
“I don’t eat much,” Warrior said. This time she glanced up at Scout briefly. “Did you eat?”
“Some. I wasn’t really hungry,” Scout said.
“Filled up on biscuits back in the rover, eh?” Warrior said.
“Something like that.”
Warrior glanced up at her again. There wasn’t much to that movement. It was impossible to track her eyes behind those lenses, but Scout could see her chin move up just a bit and knew when Warrior was looking at her and, as it moved back down, when she wasn’t. “Something bothering you, kid?”
“Liv said my parents were spies.”
“Ah,” Warrior said. “That must be startling to hear from a stranger.”
Scout couldn’t tell whether Warrior was teasing her or not. She decided to assume not. “It might make sense though.”
“You’ll have to tell me how that makes sense,” Warrior said, her thumbs over the invisible keys never slowing.
“There’re just so many coincidences,” Scout said.
“You mean the eight of us all finding each other out here where people generally aren’t?”
“Partly,” Scout said. “Not just that, though. You know there was a war here.”
“I’ve gathered as much.”
“It ended six years ago. The Space Farers caught three asteroids and threw them down from orbit. One of them landed on my hometown.”
Warrior finally set the tablet down, resting her hands on her knees as she gave Scout her full attention.
“I wasn’t there that day. Obviously,” Scout added. “My father sent me away. He sent me on a delivery, by myself, to the next town. He had never done that before.”
Warrior seemed to think about this for a minute. “So you think that means he was a spy?”
“Why else would he send me away?”
“You were what, ten?” Scout nodded. “Ten. Old enough for a little responsibility. Any siblings?”
“I had a baby brother. Not yet one.”
“And you had done deliveries before?”
“Only in town. He bought me a bike—not the one I have now, a different one. It had a basket in front and another in back, and I delivered bread and other things all over town. But only in town.”
Warrior looked down at Shadow, now at Scout’s heel, having finished the bread. “And you had your dog with you.”
“He always came with me. Our town was safe, but sometimes my father worried.”
“Well, do you want my opinion, kid?” Warrior asked, sitting back on the barstool.
“Yeah,” Scout said.
“It sounds to me like your father just thought you’d shown yourself capable of more responsibility. You being gone that day of all days? That was just bad timing. Like you said, coincidence.”
“But if he had been a spy—”
“If I were you, kid, I’d want some proof before I believed such a thing,” Warrior said, reaching for her tablet.
“It’s not so crazy,” Scout said. Warrior just shrugged. “And it is weird, all eight of us being out here. There is nothing here to make people come out this way. Just the rebels, really.”
“I can’t speak for Liv, and maybe not for Ruth or Clementine either, but the rest of us are only out here because we followed the beacon.”
“I don’t know. I just feel like maybe I was meant to be out here,” Scout said, thrusting her hands deep in the pockets of her cargo shorts and avoiding the glare from those reflective lenses.
“How’s that?”
“There must’ve been a reason I wasn’t home that day. And if there was a reason for that, then there must be a reason I’m here, now.”
“Kid, I haven’t been all over the galaxy, but I’ve seen more than my fair share. One thing I can tell you: reasons like the ones you’re looking for are rare things. Mostly you just deal with what’s in front of you and hope for the best.”
“What’s in front of me now?” Scout asked.
“Well, the solar flare for one,” Warrior said. “If I were you, I’d be a little curious why someone wants you to think your parents were spies. That’s a weird thing to tell someone you just met.”
“Can you tell me why you’re chasing this fugitive?” Scout asked. “Does it really have nothing to do with the rebels?” Or with her or her parents, she wanted to add but didn’t.
“I really can’t tell you. But I can tell you it’s got nothing to do with any of you, I promise.”
“I suppose it’s a much bigger matter than the war on my little world,” Scout said bitterly.
“Bigger? I don’t know. It’s just a different thing. I don’t go in much for comparisons,” Warrior said.
Warrior’s blank slab of a tablet made a sudden trilling noise. She picked it up and looked at it intently. There was another noise coming from somewhere else in the room, a repeated beeping. Viola got up from the table and headed to the doorway directly across from the tunnel they’d entered from. The light came on as she stepped inside and Scout could see walls lined with equipment, panels of buttons, and screens filled with information displayed so small she could read it from where she was.
“What is it?” Ottilie asked. “Another storm warning?”
“No,” Viola said over her shoulder as she scanned the screen. “This is from the planetary news service.”
“They’ve declared a state of emergency?” Liv asked.
Scout was wondering the same thing. A piece of news that set off the alarms—what could it be short of war?
“No,” Viola said as she strolled back into the room. Her eyes were on Ruth, and one by one they all looked at Ruth as well.
Ruth had her fingertips pressed to her temples, resting her elbows on the table. She didn’t look good. She hadn’t looked good when they picked her up, but she was much worse now.
“So, what was the news?” Ottilie asked.
“Someone has been declared a traitor and a spy. She’s wanted by the authorities. They are asking for any information on her whereabouts. She’s been declared so dangerous they’re willing to travel even through the solar flare to retrieve her.” Viola leaned in behind Ruth to whisper loudly, “Seems she didn’t just betray her government; she’s betrayed her own family.”