Here on Here

Space was browner than usual, browner than it should be, which is not at all. It was a waste of space, this waste-filled space. Funny, considering just how much there should be. Funny how in all of that space every human being decided Here would be where they discarded those that were unwanted. To those who created it, Here was a nameless graveyard for scrap metal, outdated electronics and unsalvageable shipwrecks. To its inhabitants, here was Here and that was that, though even the most rational of them believed it to be hell. Each and every being, from the humans to the rats to the god damned sentient wheel, wondered why this vast universe thought it would be funny to ditch them in such a putrid place.

To Jem, a dwarf of a man, often mistaken for a boy and offhandedly dismissed all his life, the wreckage-littered sky resembled the lid of a chest in which he was locked away. But he remained stubborn. Some time ago, indeterminable, his mind was lost, and that image of the dark underside of a closed lid became the top of one he had to open. Treasure awaited him past this barrier, marked with a X scratched into a shard of dirty grey metal the size of his torso. Just like the pirates of times forgotten by most.

“You know your tasks, get on it! Set sail!” Passion was all he left of his identity, so passionate was the way he shouted these orders to his very own motley crew. Without a sail to set, they hesitantly left the little shack that was their meeting place and ventured to complete their tasks.

From a balcony, that is to say half of some freighter’s hallway jutting over main road, a woman watched the dwarf’s crew depart. Curiosity was a trait she could never shake, and desperation drew her attention to even the slightest deviation from Here’s typical hopeless residents. Learning was a remnant of her past, which was one she could scarcely remember despite how hard she worked for it. Her metallic right hand wrote on a notepad, which itself was made from torn pieces of some yellow posters, with a makeshift tubular hose of sorts as its marker. It was synthetic, this hand, unnatural to the woman for it had only been on her time Here that she wore it. Time which was much shorter than most.

“red-lined coat headed for tradeland” read the first line.

“long hair to the pit” read the second.

“child to their abode. QUICK.

concealed one, bearded, tactical wannabe all down main road. Watch for orange cat.

deluded captain inside.”

The last line wrote itself via her mechanical hand as she kept her eyes on the dispersing group. She knows people who would call them charlatans and psychopaths, and though she was inclined to believe them, lounging in misery and accepting their eternity Here, her despair led her to action. She had learnt that any chance was still a chance.

She tucked her notepad into her belt, a wide but thin lining of synthetic leather; it was a luxury to some Here. Her metal hand, still dominant, gripped a hanging chain that dropped short of the ground by about 3 or 4 metres. She dropped, hanging for a second before dropping and sinking shin-deep into the gravelly ground.

The woman made her way to the almost-vacated shack and pulled aside the curtain that served as its door. Inside, Jem sat with his head in his hands. He was squinting, as if in pain. He did not see her enter.

“Are you J–” She began, before a projectile clanking against the wall beside her cut her off.

Jem was staring at her with eyes wide, wet and red. His arm was outstretched having just launched the broken half of a glass bottle at this intruder. He was hyperventilating and looking around without thought. Whether it was to find allies or enemies even he did not know.

“Who? What? I don’t have anything. GET OUT! YOU’LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE! I’m trained! I… I…”

The woman was unmoving, save for one rising eyebrow. She surveyed the room, expecting to find something of significance. There were only more bottles, most of which were surprisingly intact.

“Someone dumped alcohol Here?”

Jem shot his head to his rack of various and unlabelled bottles, then back to the woman at his door. He remained quiet and wary.

“Jem?” She asked, the man’s reaction gave her the answer she sought. “Jem, I hear you have a plan to evacuate from Here. I want in.”

With that, Jem’s shoulders relaxed and his fists uncurled. He tried his best not to look at the crude X-marked map before him.

“Well… what do you offer?” He feigned a not-so-serious – or frightful – voice. Teasing, in a way, though he very desperately wanted a pleasing answer. He gestured for her to hurry with her reply.

The woman considered what she had. Physically, not much at all – the belt likely wouldn’t go far in bartering. Intellectually, she might’ve had something to offer, though she wasn’t particularly sure. She wasn’t particularly sure of anything prior to her arrival Here.

“I was a doctor, I think. I could keep you and your gang from dying once we break through the graveyard.”

“We don’t need doctors.”

“I saw the people you sent out. If that’s all you have to offer, then you absolutely do need a doctor. Or someone at least vaguely… scientific. Looks aren’t everything, but they sure are an indication of something.”

There was a beat of silence, mostly for Jem to take in what this supposed doctor had said. She wanted the treasure, of that he could be sure, but she may be able to help with the escape plan. He wagged a finger pointed towards her.

“Scientific, ay? Ok. We’re meeting at the Pit. Jamie will be there.” He waved his hands to shoo her away but she only nodded and went to lean against the side of his shack. He panicked. She wasn’t listening to him. He was the captain, his crew listened to him but she didn’t. He tapped his foot on the floor repeatedly and look down at his precious map. It wouldn’t be long until the treasure was his.

One by one, the people from the potential doctor’s list returned to Jem’s shack, waiting outside each with a different mechanical component. The kid’s was a red amalgamation of metal bigger than his own head, while the one in the coat brought back a sled of bits and bobs. The party that ventured down the main road returned with bags of food, or the closest thing to it the people Here could manage, plus an extra empty bag which was promptly filled with the bottles that lined the shack’s shelves. Jem didn’t acknowledge them as they walked in to fill the bag, and they scarcely noticed the newcomer’s presence, simply giving a nod then moving on.

Once all had been prepared, Jem leapt of his chair and exited the shack, doing his best to avoid looking at his company for the eternity that just passed.

“It’s time then.” He shook the nervousness from his body and resumed his stoic, captainly demeanour. “Just gotta get this stuff to the Pit and then… then we get the hell out of Here.”

The pit was less daunting than those Here would make one believe. It was simply a valley from which residents had salvaged many parts of scrapped ships. Considering their purpose in shielding its inhabitants from the unforgiving void of space, even the broken hulls made for effective shelter in Here’s ever so slightly more habitable landscape. What remained after years of such salvage was a hole deeper than the others, and so the Pit came to be. It was as simple as that.

A crowd of scrappers passed Jem and his entourage, leaving only Jamie – the long-haired fellow – standing in the Pit. None of the departing peoples looked pleased by their dismissal, and that curiosity deep inside the woman flared once more. There wasn’t much that could deter so many without causing a panic, and yet they departed.

Jamie called his accomplices to his position beside the rickety shell of a ship. Jem gave it a kick as soon as he arrived and a piece fell to the ground.

“From this point on, we are tight. We’re a crew! We work as one until we find the treasure…” Jem’s voice trails off and he mumbles an unintelligible phrase before shaking his head continuing the speech. “Down here we shall recover our ship! Built with our own hands!”

He turned and gazed at what he would only ever consider a prestigious vessel.

“It’s now or never…again.”

The crew went to work applying the different pieces they had gathered earlier in the day while Jem watched over them. Jamie sat to the side with the woman that had recently joined their ranks and was shocked to find that she had no name with which he could address her.

“What do people call you, then?” He asked, after “what is your name?” led to no result.

“Oh I haven’t really talked to anyone Here. I just listen most of the time, gets you what you need fine enough.”

Jamie considered this for a moment. He had been the first to join Jem’s quest to leave Here, mostly out of pity. It kept them both entertained for however long it had been. Frankly, he never expected them to get this many people involved, let alone get this close to actually flying. Leaving was a whole other matter.

“Ok…” he began pointing to his crewmates as they came into view during their work. “So you know Jem. The young one there is Frankie, she’s a nice kid, very fun to be around. That’s John up top, and José underneath. None of us would’ve known a thing about ships without them. Paree doesn’t talk much, but you get to know her all the same. And then Lars over there by the cart, loves his jacket. I do too.”

Another moment of silence between them.

“I don’t know, I think we’d accept everyone in town if they would fit in the ship…and if they had enough faith in us. But hey, they must have some hope somewhere in there. I mean, you saw those people leave so we could work in peace. They want to see us win.”

He fidgeted with his hands in silence once more.

“Ah well, that just leaves me – I’m Jamie – and then y–”

An orange tail brushed up against the woman’s leg, briefly startling her. Very briefly. The cat let itself be picked up and pet, though it didn’t give much of a reaction. Jamie chuckled.

“Well yes there’s this little guy too. We call him Kevin.”

He watched the woman become completely invested in the way the cat’s body slowly relaxed and collapsed into her arms. The lines on her forehead were less prominent, and a smile leaked onto her face.

“Just leaves you.”

She sighed and scratched the cat’s ginger head.

“I’ll let you know when we’re out of Here.”

The woman watched these people work for what must have been hours on end. She had little confidence in whatever plan they had, or whether they had a plan in the first place, but a chance was a chance. Plus, she thought Jamie might’ve been right about the people Here. They wouldn’t do anything themselves, maybe they couldn’t even if they wanted to. Hell, she wouldn’t know where to start, her plan involved hopping onboard literally anyone else’s escape attempt.

She stayed awake with the working crew in solidarity, but the time came when they all needed some rest, when she finally untensed and slept on the cold, metal ground. Perhaps, just this once, the universe would find it funny if they won.