Vignettes
The Moon
Jennifer emerged from the tunnel into the dark of night. None of the lights or sounds of the Power Base made it this far into the open world; secrecy was everything. Her eyes scanned the sky, seeing fewer stars than usual for such a cool evening. The moon. It was rising and had a good lift over the mountains already. Its odd face stared at her.
She swiped at her cheek, dashing aside a tear before it could roll down. But then her proud stance collapsed, and her head drooped. “I’m just being a machine.” The next tear she let fall, and it patted on the stony ground. “Being human is feeling,” she whispered—words she’d spoken once to another girl, much like her, stuck in the cold, antiseptic world of the Dread Youth. A grimace crossed her face, and she sobbed.
But a moment later she straightened and almost bared her teeth. Her breathing quickened and her fists clenched. “I hate you!” Her words were barely audible even to herself, but when she heard them from her own mouth, she raised her hand to cover it. And the cycle of emotions continued, thrashing her insides as they mercilessly tossed her back and forth. Then she stiffened and inhaled sharply when footsteps sounded behind her.
“Brr!” Scout said as he walked past her. But he stopped, as though he’d just noticed her, and glanced back. “Kinda cold to be standing around out here, isn’t it?”
She shrugged.
“Well, I needed some fresh air, anyway. Gets stuffy in there. Sometimes feels a little too machine-like. Know what I mean?” His eyes were fixed on the sky the whole time he talked.
She nodded.
“Sometimes feels like he looks right through you and sees everything inside.” Scout pursed his lips. “And sometimes feels like he’s dead behind the eyes and can’t see what’s right in front of him.”
Jennifer again stiffened, her eyes widening.
This time Scout turned his head to look straight at her. “Know what I mean?”
She gaped.
“The moon, silly! I mean, look at that face: is someone out there or not?” He paused. “Who’d you think I meant?” But his question carried a distinct rhetorical tang to which Jennifer had no response. “Yeah, I get it. I know who you thought I meant. Maybe I meant it that way, too.”
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Sure you do. You…well, you and he need to get together and have a little talk about things.” He returned his eyes to the heavens. “Who knows how much time each of us has. It’s precious. And it’s short, no matter how long it is.”
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks. Perhaps Scout knew; he didn’t look at her. Almost he seemed to keep his back firmly toward her.
“Woo! I need to get back inside. This wind’s got some bite.” He turned, his eyes downward as if he were contemplating the cosmos he’d just looked at—and not trying to avoid seeing her tears. But then he stopped and looked at her. “Anything you need, Pilot?”
Her hand started to rise toward her face, but it stopped. What was the point? Scout apparently knew everything. “No, thanks.”
“Okay. Don’t stay out here too long. We need you in there. Know what I mean?”
She nodded.
“Good. And hey, if you need a shot of something to take the edge off those blues, you let me know. Got a case of the good stuff on our last mission.”
The corners of her mouth turned up.
“Yeah.” He chuckled and swaggered back into the base.
Jennifer looked up at the sky for another few seconds and then turned. She looked at the dark passageway back into the base, and her expression twisted this way and that. But her foot moved to take a step, then the other followed, and she disappeared back into secrecy.