A resistance warship flies into battle against the Conglomerate, a mecha-company conquering planets for minerals and slave labor. When the ship crashes above the plains, the five people on board battle for survival across their world, pursued by th...
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In the shrublands, the remaining four of them finally find a reprieve.
After leaving the marshes, the Gunner pointed out a river, wide and shallow, hidden amongst the thorny vegetation and they had wearily slunk into its banks to mask their scent. Tired and shaky with the aftereffects of adrenaline, there is no protest from either the Mechanic or the Double as the Gunner takes the lead, keeping to the river, leading them under drooping trees. Water soaks trouser hems and boots alike on the long trek, the Gunner pushing a relentless pace despite their fatigue to better distance themselves from their pursuers.
When the Gunner deems them far enough away, they barely drag themselves out of the water before huddling together for warmth in the long reedy grasses of the riverbanks. Any strife between them can wait as the reality of what lies ahead to be survived sinks in.
The Recruit wakes the next day to find the Mechanic snoring softly at his side and the Gunner and the Double talking softly over a small fire in the wan sunlight. The two women have striped off wet footwear and rolled up their uniform trousers and the sight of slim, bronzed ankles makes him blush. They have found an arthritic old tree close to the river and dug a small pit for their fire, the high, gold grass hiding them from any prying eyes on the horizon line. The great Forest is a wall of green that subsumes the view to the left, its verdancy chilling in its solidity.
The Double looks up as he approaches and gives him a smile that makes a schoolboy blush spring to his cheeks. The Gunner gives him a knowing look as he ducks his head, both in acknowledgement and to hide his crimson cheeks, cursing the pallidity of his skin. Whatever they were talking about, his presence has negated their candidness. There does seem to be something different between the two women now but the Recruit cannot put his finger on what that might be.
"Breakfast," the Double says, holding out a hash of their rations and what look like clumpy bird eggs running into the mix. There is an amused wrinkle to her nose as the Recruit eyes it dubiously.
"Breakfast?" he asks, although the sun is well past its zenith. Hiding behind a haze of low-lying grey-brown clouds. The Double takes his meaning and shrugs.
"Midday meal, then," she says as the Mechanic stirs and slowly rises to come and join them, cracking his back and knuckles. "Although the hour is hard to discern with all the smoke from the Plains."
The mention of the wreckage behind sobers him as the Double hands the Mechanic a bowl of the hash. He accepts it with such forced gratitude that it makes the Recruit wince. Here they are, fleeing for their lives from the Conglomerate war machine, stranded to survive in the wilderness together. They least they can be is civil to each other.
The Double gives no indication she minds the Mechanic's hostility, although looking at the hard lines on her face, the Recruit cannot help but remember her anguish and rage at the execution of Savro Pe'gerico. He sees there is so much to this woman now, a woman of masks and deceptions. She is the Body Double to the Senator of their world but layered with so many startling traits of her own. He has a flashback of her diving from that tree to save him from the hound. Is she, the Body Double, naturally so savage underneath? What parts are her and what parts are the Senator?
