Chapter 1: Shifting Metal

  The air hung scorching, a fact that was heavily exacerbated by the metal that crunched and shifted underfoot. It was already mid-morning, and the satchel she flung over her shoulder was almost full. She weighed the haul and considered the distance away from the station. The overseers wouldn’t notice if she took a bit of time to work on her latest creation.

  Bix squatted and rummaged, pulling out her little structure and then the smaller bag she always slipped bits and pieces into.

  Nothing was of great value, but they were things she was almost sure she could work with. Bix turned the little structure with various moving parts; she hadn’t a clue what it would do yet. She’d never really planned her creations. More, she'd say they fumbled into existence as she added a little more at a time.

  It calmed her and brought her immense joy and satisfaction to watch the gears clink, clatter, and coil into motion.

  Before she allowed herself to fully delve into the mind-blanking work, Bix reached over and tore off a nearby golden almost clear fruit. It was the only plant that grew in the confines of Detritus.

  Bix brought the fruit absently to her lips taking a perfectly round bite out of the center. She chewed it thoroughly and swallowed before she downed the liquid center.

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  The Faerie fruit was never cold or warm, no matter the temperature outside. It was sweet and refreshing and Bix had heard of many who lived off only what the fruit offered.

  There was food back at the station, and with a haul like hers she'd be encouraged to take her fill.

  That though would involve going back.

  Bix found it increasingly hard to willingly go back before her mandatory check-in. It became harder and harder for her to balance the life they still needed to live and the future that she knew was coming.

  Eventually.

  Right now it was mostly just theories and whispers. Planning.

  To be honest, Bix wasn't included much in the planning aspect. The Older and Elders weren't about to share sensitive information with someone who hadn't survived as long as they had.

  But those who were planning at least would take interest in her latest creation.

  Whatever it did.

  Bix smirked and licked the last of the fruit from her fingers when she heard it.

  The shifting of metal.

  Far more than what footsteps would cause. It was a sound they all knew to fear from an early age.

  Bix quickly tossed her creation into her bag and dropped, huddling into a ball.

  To be buried in the piles of metal was almost always a death sentence, but if she stayed compact and didn’t die immediately, there was a chance she could dig her way out—or maybe she’d be found in time.

  Unlikely, but she could hope.

  Bix waited, her breathing short, her heart racing, everything silent and waiting.

  Nothing came.

  She took a deeper breath; her nose filled with the scent of the Faerie Fruit and the oil that always clung to the things of Detritus. Though… there was something else: a smell that tickled her nose and reminded her of the city dwellers, but not even that familiar.

  It, though, at the very least, probably meant she wasn’t dead.

  Yet.