Cross Talk
Chapter One
For most of us it begins as a smooth transition from intangible images to a harsh reality. The senses come alive and tell us that the pain, pleasure, or terror that we've just experienced is a manifestation of our subconscious desires or fears. In dreams we live out a world of our own making, yet we no control over the elements.
For Alita, that world was a track of rutted iron bathed in an intense yellow that illuminated the carnage around her and hid the world beyond the wire barriers, though she was acutely aware of the maddening throng that pressed against the fence and cheered in one voice as she cut a sharp swathe through the opponents that sought to hold her back. Every crash against hard metal or thud against soft flesh and brittle bone was met with a thunderous ovation that spurned her even harder. A crimson ballet set on a stage of bodies through which she dodged and weaved, sending another opponent crashing into the barriers or plummeting to his death into the pits on either side.
Through it all Alita kept her eyes forward, never letting her concentration stray from the task at hand. And as she finished destroying the last of her opponents he came into view, just ahead of her. A tall man masked in red armor, swinging his arms wide as he glanced back at the diminutive blue streak that was gaining on him. His face held no emotion, as it was nothing more than a simile of the human countenace. But Alita could sense the terror within him as she saw the red armor put his head down and surge away with long strides in a vain attempt to elude her.
She was the cause of his fear, the catalyst of his terror. For what she sought was the metal ball he swung to and fro in his right hand and she would not rest until he had surrendered it, voluntarily or forcibly, and she preferred the latter.
The long straightway ended and a sharp, left hairpin appeared. Alita was within striking distance now and could hear his laboured breathing. She could clearly discern the many scratches and dents that covered his back, marking him as a veteren of the circuit and not someone to take lightly.
The red armor went low to the inside lane while Alita elected to go high and wide, losing the apex of the curve but allowing her to skate faster without the danger of losing control. And as the pair came out of the turn Alita shot across the track and was suddenly alongside her competitor, pushing against his shoulder. Not as an offensive maneuver, but as a formal gesture alerting him to her presence.
The red armor was startled by the suddeness of her appearance and let loose a stream of profanity that brought a smile to Alita's lips. He swung his right arm back in an attempt to knock her down, a move Alita countered easily by dodging her head and punching him hard against his ribs. A crack raced up his armor and ended just beneath the arm, allowing Alita a glimpse of red flesh crossed with wires that hissed as blood seeped into ruptured circuits. And as her opponent bent forward in the throes of agony she grit her teeth and drove her left knee into his shin, sending him spilling to the steel in a tangle of flailing limbs that crashed against one of the metal beams that dotted the track.
Alita turned slightly to her right and put out her left leg, bringing her to a screeching halt as the wheels of her skates ground the surface beneath in a shower of sparks. The ball she had sought to wrest from her opponent had torn free on impact and skittered some distance down the track, coming to rest on the inside lane. It was an easy matter to simply pick the ball up and continue the circuit until she crossed the finish line. There were no more opponents to face, only the deafening roar of the crowd to accompany her as she completed the final lap.
She stared at the broken body for a moment, then cast her eyes over the black mass that seethed against the wire fence, intent on sharing in her glory. Alita heard her name repeated again and again, a mantra which drew the crowd together as a single entity, threatening to tear the barrier away and swarm the track. Alita raised her right hand high over head then pushed off her left leg, assuming a low crouch as she swooped toward the motorball and scooped it up with her right hand.
The crowd erupted in cheers as Alita soared near the fence and held the ball out for the fortunate few to touch as she flew by. The race was hers, all she had to do was skate one final uncontested lap and cross the finish line. She could already feel the warm smiles and hear the encouraging words of Ed and Umba as they congratulated her on another win. Alita wasn't sure if she enjoyed Motorball, but she loved the challenge it presented and the feeling of accomplishment it brought her. There was an empty space in her life, perhaps several, and competition seemed to fill those empty spaces and make her complete. Even if such feelings were fleeting and lost to her after a race, for Alita it was enough.
Faster she skated, racing to a speed of two hundred and ten kilometers an hour. As Alita sped past the bodies of fallen opponents she glanced about her and was relieved to see that several were still alive. It was not her intention to kill, but as competitors they knew the risks of the sport and accepted their fate. She was sure that some of them would survive to see another race and perhaps challenge her again.
Alita came out of the final turn and saw the finish line waiting for her. Ed was there, somewhere back in the shadows. He would hug her then steal her away from the crowd, making their way down a darkened corridor where Umba would be waiting to run a battery of tests and examine her sleek racing form for any damage. From the tests he would gather information and make the necessary modifications to improve her performance for the next outing.
She was a mere two hundred meters from the finish when something caught her attention. Alita turned her head sharply and squinted at a bright silver light that had emerged from the crowd. A piercing flash that forced her to close her eyes and turn away, and it was at that moment tragedy struck. Alita found herself flying through the air, something terrible had happened.
Had she tripped over debris from the armor of a fallen competitor, or perhaps a stone had become lodged in the wheels of her skates? Alita cursed at allowing herself a moment's distraction and released the ball, hugging her knees to her chest and bracing for the coming impact. There was no sound in the world, none at all. The crowd had fallen silent and her heart had stopped. She was still alive but breath neither left or entered her. She was alone among the lights and the crowd that held it's breath waiting for her to crash against the barriers.
Alita closed her eyes.
***
She wasn't dead, of that she was quite sure. The booming voice in her ears told her that she was very much alive, though given a choice between the fate she had just escaped from or having to spend an eternity listening to that annoying voice, death on the Motorball circuit would have been preferrable. Alita opened her eyes and gazed upward at a blue sky laced with wisps of cloud. A faint breeze blew across the complex and she shivered reflexively as it chilled the moisture on her face.
Alita lay atop a pile of three boxes, each bigger than herself. Her head was propped against the topmost and she adjusted her position slightly to a more comfortable one. It was too early, she could have napped for another thirty five minutes but that voice had awakened her. All about her were crates and boxes of every size and description. Some were destined for the factories while others held supplies that had been purchased and awaited pick up by those who inhabited the outlands. Many people milled about her, some throwing a look her way while others took no notice. Merchants and traders, and armed men who guarded the trains during the sometimes dangerous routes that led into the city.
Beneath her right arm lay the sheathed weapon she had carried for the last seven years. Other than her memories it was the only tangible reminder of a past time and people she had known. Some of them were dead now, as for the fate of others she couldn't be sure. Alita twisted the cord of the sheath about her fingers and for the briefest of moments she again felt herself hurtling down a track of twisted metal and crashing bodies.
"Put that crate over there you fool!" she heard the baritone bellow.
Alita turned her head and cast a lazy stare at a huge man, three times her size. A powerfully built cyborg construct who loomed over two smaller men, goading them in their task of loading a truck bound for the outlands. The cyborg continued to shout orders as his assistants ran about, grabbing boxes and crates and throwing them onto the bed of the vehicle. In his nervousness and haste one of the workers tripped and sent a box crashing to the ground. No damage done, but the cyborg responded by unleashing a humiliating kick against his rear.
"You idiot, how many times have I told you to be careful? If anything is broken it will come out of your pay!"
Such an annoyance, she thought. Alita had encountered many such men in her life. Braggarts who intimidated those smaller than themselves, men who took pride in the fear they induced in others. The worker picked up the fallen crate and continued in his duties without complaint, drawing a grunt of satisfaction from his employer. The giant turned and looked around to see who might be watching. He wanted all within earshot to realize that he was a man not above using intimidation and fear to achieve his ends, but when his eyes came to rest on Alita the look of satisfaction turned to a frown. The small woman lay on the crates some twenty meters away, regarding him with a dispassionate stare that displayed neither anger or fear. It was as if she were looking right through him, considering him not worthy of her notice.
In his life the giant had seen many faces. Fearful eyes that begged not to be harmed, or men like himself who stared hard and challenged him, only to lose, but he had never had someone regard him this way. No fear, no anger. It was as if he didn't exist, or if he were nothing more than an annoying insect to be swatted away with a slap of the hand.
He opened his mouth slightly, angry words on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it at the last moment. A warning went off telling him that it would be a grave mistake to challenge this girl. True she was a woman and much smaller than himself, but experience had taught him that size and gender was often of little consequence in cybernetics. The boss grunted and turned away, resuming his task of ordering his subordinates about. However this time his voice had dropped in pitch from a bark to one of normal conversation.
Alita closed her eyes and laced her fingers together, resting her hands on her stomach. She would not be able to return to sleep but at least it was much quieter now, and she resolved to get as much rest as she could in the next thirty minutes.
***
Aaron placed his right hand to his forehead and brushed away the fine dust that clung to his skin. It was damn uncomfortable sitting here on this rock, and he was thirsty too. He ran his tongue over dry lips and swore under his breath. Aaron considered running back to the truck for a taste of the fresh water he had brought along but decided against it. He was getting paid a lot for this job, one hundred thousand chips to be precise, and his instructions were to wait fifty meters from the west gate of the hydro wall until the client showed. For all he knew there could be someone observing him to ensure that he followed his instructions to the letter.
He looked again to the monstrosity and panned his head left to right, noting that the construct stretched as far as he could see. And considering that the wall encircled the city the enormity of it confounded his comprehension. He had scaled huge mountains and traversed barren tracks of desert to which the wall paled in comparison, but these were natural occurances, things shaped by time and the elements, it had always been so. But the wall was a manmade thing of purpose, a plight against nature of which he didn't approve.
Aaron had seen the wall on previous occasions but it had always been from a distance. He had never been in the city and had no desire to visit there. From what he had been told by others it was a place of filth and immorality, inhabited by all manner of machines that in his opinion were nothing more than pale imitations of humanity. He understood the concept of cybernetics but dismissed it as an attempt by man to break the rules of nature and deity. If a man should suffer the misfortune of losing an arm, or it was his time to die, these things should be accepted as a part of the cycle of living. Aaron could do nothing to stop these things but he could make sure that he had as little to do with them as possible. And that was why he had chosen to live his entire life in the outlands.
A wanderer by nature, he had spent most of his twenty six years exploring the deserts and mountains far from city, visiting the factory farms and small towns only when the occasion warranted. Except for those times when he desired the companionship of a woman he preferred to sleep beneath the stars and rise with the sun. As a result of his travels he had garnered the reputation of being one of the most knowledgable guides in the region. And it was for this purpose that he was waiting outside the west gate of the Scrapyard, that and the fact that he was flat broke.
Aaron clasped his hands behind his head and arched his back to remove the stiffness induced from being in a stationary position for an extended time. He was thinner than most men due to his subsistance on canned food and whatever edible plant and animal life he might find. And he was not a handsome man nor was he unattractive, rather he had a face that most women found interesting. A prominent chin and nose a little too long, with dark eyes and straight, brown hair lightened by the sun.
He cast his eyes down and saw that the shadow thrown from a nearby rock had inched forward slightly from the last time he had looked. He had been sitting here for approximately twenty five minutes and was growing impatient. A large insect scurried past his feet and paused, it sensed the dark of his shadow and was searching for a haven from the burning sun. Aaron spat on the sand and the insect scurried over to feed on the moisture.
"I suppose we do what we have to if we want to survive," he thought aloud.
Just as Aaron finished speaking he heard the rumble of machinery and swung his head toward the gate. A section of the concrete buttress was starting to move, inching it's way slowly upward to reveal a shadowed passageway lit by the sun at the other end. Aaron stood and patted the dust from his clothes. It was about time, he thought. The sooner to get this business over with and pay his debts.
He saw the gate stop and heard the sound of a heavy truck echoing through the passageway. Seconds later the vehicle roared out of the tunnel and into view, racing toward him then veering off to his right along a rutted road cut into the sand by the passage of many vehicles. He stared at the truck as it passed him, his sharp eyes able to discern a large man at the wheel who held an expression of anger. In the bed of the truck were two smaller men who clung to the sides as the vehicle jostled them about on it's way west toward a small town he had visited many times.
Aaron held a hand to his face to shield his eyes against the sand kicked up by the passing vehicle. He coughed reflexively then lowered his arm, turning back toward the gate and waiting for whomever he was supposed to meet. It was still a little difficult to see and he waited a moment for the dust to settle. Someone stood in the darkened passageway, smaller than the average person and wearing heavy clothes suited for desert travel. He could also tell from the outline of the shadow that the person was carrying something, an object slung over one shoulder.
The figure started to walk and a moment later emerged from the tunnel. It was a woman, small in stature with dark hair that ended at her shoulders. She neither paused or glanced at her surroundings, rather walking straight toward him in a deliberate step that indicated she knew who he was. Aaron hadn't expected a woman and was a little unsure about how he should greet her. He was given to glib conversation with women and was good at flirting, but this one didn't seem at all like the girls he had met in the small towns of the desert. Her demeanor was one of serious intent, as if she were here for a specific purpose and would not tolerate any distaction.
Aaron stood perfectly still, hands at his sides. The woman's dark eyes never wavered from his and he found it unsettling to be subjected to such scrutiny. And he noticed something else as well, she walked with an assured step for someone who came from the Scrapyard, never stumbling once in the deep sand or looking down as she negotiated her way past the rocks and shallow pits in her path. It was obvious to him that this was not the first time she had been to the outlands.
Alita stopped several paces away from Aaron and reached her right hand toward her shoulder, grasping the strap of a scabbard slung about her back. He looked into her eyes and tried to gauge her demeanor but was left with an impression of vacancy. The girl presented an exotic appearance that Aaron found attractive but she seemed rather hardened in dispostion. The seconds clicked by as he sought the right words to introduce himself.
"Hello," he began modestly. "I guess you must be the person that I've been waiting for."
"And who would that be?" she answered.
Aaron frowned and folded his arms across his chest, he didn't like her terse reply to his greeting.
"Why that Tipharean agent I'm supposed to meet here, who else would I be referring to? I've been paid one hundred thousand chips by the factory to guide someone through the outlands for the next seven days, and judging by the look of you and that thing you're carrying you must be the one."
"That's all I need to know," replied Alita.
She stepped forward and nudged Aaron aside with her shoulder, walking straight toward an outcropping of boulders some distance away. Aaron grunted as Alita pushed him back and he stared after her receding figure. Such a casual gesture yet he felt as if he had been struck by a solid object. The girl wasn't human, he realized. Not entirely anyway.
"Wait a minute!" he called to her. "I don't know what the hell you are but no one said anything about having to escort a cyber around the outlands."
Alita stood for a moment then twisted her heels into the sand as she turned to face him. Her grim expression told him that she didn't seem offended at the remark, rather she was annoyed at the unnecessary delay this might cause.
"What, or who I am is no concern of yours," she answered sharply. "You've been paid to do a job and I expect you to do it. Contracts entered into between citizens and the factory are non-negotiable, and once accepted the contract cannot be rescinded. Whatever bias you may have toward people such as myself is of little importance, and if you have any ideas about walking away from this then you had better reconsider."
Aaron was at a loss for words. He had always avoided authority and considered himself autonomous and answerable to no one, it was one of the reasons that he chose to roam the outlands rather than live under the rules of civilization. And now a young girl was ordering him about, even threatening him with violence if he didn't assist her. Such arrogance, he thought. If she were not a woman he would have struck her in the face, regardless of the obvious physical advantage her body gave her.
He clenched his fists tightly, nails digging into his palms to assuage his anger. Aaron desperately needed the money, there were many debts to be paid and he had never had an offer this good. He reasoned that he could tolerate her for a week, vowing that once the job was completed he would never again involve himself in the affairs of the skycity.
"All right," he mumbled. "I've been paid to do a job and I will. Just tell me where you want to go and I'll take you there, but don't ask me for anything beyond that."
Alita turned and strode away from the young man, leaving him to shake his head in disgust as he trotted after her. He hurried to her side and was surprised at how quickly the girl walked for somone so small. His stride was obviously longer but he found it difficult to keep up.
"Your vehicle is behind those boulders, isn't it?" she said, pointing to the large rocks she had noticed earlier.
Aaron nodded, then glanced back at the hydro-wall as he heard the gate begin to close. Hopefully this would be that last time he would ever see it.
"Yeah, it's right over there," he answered. "I had instructions to leave the truck one hundred meters from the wall and approach on foot. Damn if I can figure out why they wouldn't let me drive up to the gate."
"For reasons of security," Alita replied. "An unknown vehicle such as yours could easily be concealing a large amount of explosive. Not that there's any threat of serious damage to the hydro-wall in the event of an explosion, but there are those in the outlands who would be happy to inconvenience Tiphares in any way possible."
Aaron knew that this was true. He had heard stories of such people, factions who's ideology differed from that of the symbiotic relationship that existed between Tiphares and the city beneath it. He too had a dislike for the society that existed behind the wall but it was not his nature to commit grievous violence or involve himself in the affairs of others. Such insurgent groups lived by rules as well, maybe a little more palpable than the oppression under which the citizens of the Scrapyard lived, but rules nonetheless.
"Sure, I've heard of them," replied Aaron as he trudged alongside her. "But it's no business of mine what other people do. I have my own opinions on the Scrapyard and Tiphares but I keep them to myself. Truth is, I wouldn't be helping you out if I didn't need the money so badly."
Alita shrugged her shoulders as the pair rounded the rocks and came upon Aaron's truck. A gray transport with oversized tires and headlights. A bare frame of metal tubes was welded to the chassis as a makeshift rollbar, and a canvas sheet that she knew served as the roof lay over the bed of the truck covering the supplies they would need for their trip. The young man stood at a distance as Alita walked around the vehicle, rapping her knuckles once on the hood then leaning her back against a fender as she spoke to it's owner.
"It seems to be in good condition," she observed.
Aaron smiled as he stepped forward.
"It should be," he replied. "I bought it three days ago from a fellow who didn't want to part with it. It's even got a diesel engine and those headlights are a rare type that give increased visibility in bad weather."
Aaron ran his right hand along the frame of the windshield that was folded flat on the bonnet. He smiled at the thought that he now owned a new toy, and about time too. His old truck had died on him a month ago and this offer couldn't have come at a better time. Aaron walked to the back of the vehicle and Alita watched as he reached into the bed and pulled aside the canvas sheet to show her what Tipharean wealth had bought.
"We've got water and fuel enough for more than a week," he said, indicating several red tanks near the front of the bed. "I also brought food, a medical kit, tools, and the necessary parts to do minor repairs. Barring a catastrophe we should be okay, as long as you don't get mad and take a bite out of her."
Aaron grinned as he stood and gave Alita a sideways glance. She seemed to take no notice of his attempt at humour and he let out a heavy sigh as he looked away.
"They seem to have picked someone who knows what he's doing," he heard her remark.
"I'm glad you approve," he replied. "And since you recognize me as someone who's good at his job, I'd be remiss if I didn't ask you a few questions before we get underway."
Alita pushed herself away from the vehicle and turned to face him, letting her hands fall at her sides.
"You have that right," she answered. "But as to the nature of my mission that's classified, and for your own safety it's best that you know as little as possible."
Aaron shook his head.
"No, that's not what I want to ask you, I just need to know two things. First of all, what do I call you?"
"My name is Alita," she answered.
"Ok Alita, I'm Aaron. I'll be taking you where you want to go for the next seven days but whatever happens during that time don't expect me to do anymore than drive the truck and act as your guide. I'm not a soldier and I don't take sides, and at the first sign of trouble you're on your own, regardless of what you threaten me with, understood?"
Alita nodded once, indicating that his demands seemed reasonable.
"Agreed," she answered. "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself in a fight anyhow, truth be told you'd only get in the way."
Aaron frowned and rubbed his chin as he ruminated over his next question.
"The second thing I want to know is, why me?"
Alita turned her head slightly to one side and looked at him from the corner of her eye.
"I don't know what you mean?"
"I mean this," he answered, pointing to the bed of the vehicle. "All of this, the supplies, the truck, and the fee for my services. Together it cost a lot of chips. Five days ago I'm sitting in a waterhole, drowning my financial troubles in drink and wondering how I'm going to pay for it. At the end of the night I reach into my pocket and find two thousand credits wrapped in a note telling me to go to farm nineteen and meet with a man named Heberon. I figure I have nothing to lose so I go the next day and talk to him. He makes me this pitch about escorting some bigshot around the outlands and on the spot he pays me the entire fee as well as the credits needed to purchase the truck and supplies."
"He paid you in full?" she answered rhetorically.
"Yeah, the whole amount in one shot," replied Aaron.
"Well if that's the case then why are you here?" she asked. "Why not take the chips and simply disappear? The outland is a big place and I'm sure that much can take you pretty far."
"Sure it can," Aaron replied. "But I've never been one to believe in coincidences Alita. This guy knew I was hurting for credits, and if he knew that then he might know other things about me as well, and the last thing I want to do is spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder."
"You probably made the right decision," she answered. "I can tell you this much Aaron, if you had taken the chips and made a run for it you wouldn't be alive now, I guarantee it. Most likely I'm the one they would have sent after you."
"I don't doubt it," he smiled. "But you still haven't answered my question. Why does a Tipharean agent with all those resources behind her need the help of a drifter like me? I can tell this isn't your first time out here, and that means you have some sort of guidance system, probably a link with Tiphares and a way to get your hands on any equipment you require. I doubt if these people just let you roam around the outland without being in constant communication."
Alita was surprised at this revelation. What Aaron was telling her was only known by herself and a privelaged few, not even this Heberon was privy to such information. Was Aaron more than the vagabond he seemed or had he simply deduced the truth? She doubted he intended her harm, if he did then it would be stupid of him to reveal this knowledge. She surmised that he had simply pieced together the evidence and was waiting for her reply to confirm his guess.
She maintained a stony expression as she answered his question. There was no possible way he could know of the existance of Gabriel or that the satellite was offline, and she intended to keep him in the dark about such sensitive matters.
"Sometimes even Tiphares needs the assistance of those on the surface," she replied. "That's the reason you're here, and me as well."
Alita turned her back to Aaron and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. She unslung the weapon from her shoulder and laid it carefully on the floor, then straightened up and looked over at Aaron who waited on the other side of the vehicle. His grim expression told her he was not satisfied with her answer and waited to hear more.
"You said that you have debts to pay, correct?"
Aaron nodded once as he returned her stare.
"Well so do I," she answered simply.
Alita climbed into the vehicle and rest her right arm against the top of the door, looking off at a ridge of grey hills that rose from the desert floor several kilometers away. They were mere stones compared to the rugged terrain she knew awaited her.
Aaron pulled open the heavy door and lowered himself into the driver's seat, resting his palms on the steering wheel and looking everywhere but at his passenger.
"I guess it's not important anyhow," she heard him remark. "I just find it amusing that Tiphares needs the help of a lowly ridge-runner like myself."
"Just remember this Aaron, Tiphares cares for nothing but itself. You and I are expendable and we're alive only so long as we serve it's interest. I understood that when I chose to work for them, not that I had much choice in the matter, and I hope you thought of this as well when you agreed to this assignment."
Aaron looked over to her as he reached for a small knob on the steering column, the engine roared for a few seconds then settled into a contented idle.
"I didn't have much of a choice either."
He pulled back the shift lever and the truck lurched ahead, kicking up a storm of dust as Aaron pulled onto the road heading west taking the same route as the truck that had just left. The arid wind felt good against the skin and even Alita felt buoyed by the drop in temperature. Yet inwardly her thoughts were of what lay ahead for her, and for Aaron.
In her seven years as a Tuned this was the first time that every decision she made would be left to her own discretion. There was no Gabriel to guide her or controller to advise on what action to take in a crisis situation. And whereas she had always acted alone with no one to worry about other than herself there was now Aaron. True, Tiphares considered him as less than nothing, merely a tool to be used for their convenience but Alita would not permit herself to regard him this way. As long as he was with her he was not only her guide but her responsibility, and the mission to which she had been assigned was a dangerous one, with many variables in the equation that could lead to disasterous conclusions.
However being free of the constant intrusion by her handlers had a positive aspect as well.. With Gabriel gone Alita had no obtrusive voice to contend with, no orders to follow, she simply had to complete her task and return alive. And though it was liberating to be in a position of autonomy she was surprised at how detached she felt. For she had lived with the presence of her operator for a long time and had grown accustomed to the voice, almost to the point it seemed a part of her.
Alita turned to Aaron and held a hand to her face, holding back the dark hair that whipped about her eyes.
"To the mountains eight hundred kilometers west of here is a region known as the Firewall, have you heard of it?"
"Sure," Aaron replied. "It has several peaks that rise to a very steep elevation that's impossible to ascend without special gear. You didn't tell me that you wanted to go mountain climbing."
"I don't," she answered. "I just need you to find me a route through them to what lies beyond."
Aaron looked at her and grinned.
"Oh, is that all? The last time I was there was about two years ago. At the foot of the mountains there are two passes that lead through the range. The first route is extremely hazardous and we would have to travel by foot which means leaving the truck behind, something I would rather we didn't do. The second way will take a little longer but there's no climbing involved and it's not nearly as dangerous, and we would be able to drive as it takes us along the floor of the valley between the mountains."
"And that's the route you recommend?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think that's the best way to go, but it's entirely up to you of course. You're the boss."
Alita allowed herself to smile, the first time she had done so in several days.
"I trust in the advice of my guide," she answered. "But you said that you were there two years ago, can you tell me more?"
"Not much I'm afraid. I'd heard many stories and wanted to see for myself as to what lay beyond the Firewall. It took me two days using the more difficult path and once I was through I found nothing but a vast, inhospitable desert lay on the other side. Not a thing lived there, nothing could. Some say that the Firewall holds the desert at bay and I believe them. The route I used to return is how we'll be getting there, but for the life of me I can't see why you would want to go. There's nothing but sand and stone and the sun burns even more fiercely than it does here."
"Sometimes appearances can be deceiving," she answered.
Aaron came to a fork in the road and turned right. It would take until evening of the next day to reach the foot of the mountains and Alita lay her head back, gazing upward at the blue sky beyond which lay a black tapestry of distant worlds, some of which she was sure were not too dissimiliar from the planet on which she found herself. For she felt at home under the burning sun, surrounded by sand, rock and the hot wind that parched the throat and stung the eyes. These things were familiar to her, and Alita was sure she had come from such a place and was not born of this world.
"You're not much of a talker," she heard Aaron remark unexpectedly.
Alita rolled her head in his direction and closed her eyes, letting the steady thrum of the engine lull her into a state of unguarded comfort. For the moment there was little to fear and she could allow herself to engage in idle conversation with her traveling companion.
"It's just how I am," she answered sleepily. "I usually speak my mind, and I find that people who talk too much say very little worth listening to."
Aaron nodded in agreement while keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah, I feel the same way as you. I've spent so much time alone out here that on those occasions when I have to visit a settlement for supplies and such, I find that I've forgotten how to speak. It takes me a few minutes of listening to someone talk before I remember how."
Alita knew he was being sincere in this and was making no attempt at humour, but she couldn't help but chuckle as she mentally pictured Aaron with his head cocked to one side as a dog does when trying to comprehend the words of it's human master.
"What's so funny?" inquired Aaron.
Alita stifled her laughter and shook her head back and forth.
"You are," she answered. "But don't you ever get lonely out here by yourself? I'm sure there must be times when you've thought about settling down, perhaps finding someone to share your life with."
Aaron frowned and gripped the wheel tightly as he negotiated the truck around a large boulder.
"I could ask the same question of you Alita. I may not have spent a lot of time in the company of others but I'm a pretty good judge of people. And I suspect you've been alone for most of your life as well."
"Alone but not lonely," she replied. "There are things that you don't know about me and I doubt if I could explain it all to you even if I wanted. I have spent a great deal of time in the outlands, you were right about that. But the difference between us is that I had no choice in the matter."
"Oh really?" he answered angrily. "I may not be a cyborg or a Tipharean agent, but it's obvious that weapon you're carrying has only one intended purpose. We all make choices Alita, the question is can we live with ourselves afterward."
Alita could feel herself becoming angry. She didn't like being lectured to, and what had started as a harmless conversation was turning into an argument that she didn't want any part of. It was best, she knew, not to allow herself to become distracted from the task at hand. There were lives at risk here, not only her own and Aaron's, but those of an entire civilization.
She shut Aaron away and retreated to her own thoughts, allowing the wind to carry her to a world of her own making. Alita had never felt so alone as she did at this moment, and she preferred it that way.
Chapter Two