A Clockwork Green Ch. 01

"They left us again, didn't they?" The skiff is missing from the port side. I scowl as intensely as I can, if only to keep my lip from quivering. There's nothing I can do to stop my eyes from watering except to keep Tony behind me so he can't see. I grip the railing and stare out over the dunes.

"It would appear that, once again-"

"Aw, can it! I'm fuckin sick of this!"

"Now now-"

I round on him, and he takes a quick step back. "I'm not just a goddamn tech! I can fight too! I'm fucking strong!" Both of my fists ignite for a moment, flaring brightly. It's not like it's the first time I set something on fire by accident and it won't be the last, but it's still a bit of a shock. "Damnit!" Tony isn't afraid of me per say, but he has a healthy appreciation for my abilities. Way more than anyone else on our fucking crew, that's for damn sure.

Tony gets overlooked just as much as I do. Maybe even more. He's a damn good fighter, one I'd want watching my back if things went south. He's a great front man though, so he gets to work with the clients and keep the books. Capn' thinks he's gay. Won't put him out in the field. He's seen more jobs than I have, but none where there was even a hint of danger and really, what's the fucking point then?

"Next port, I'm outta here. I'm sick of this bullshit."

"You have said the same and more many times, Mackenzie."

"Yeah, well..." I have. I've quit to Tony a dozen times. He's much better soldier than I am, and he always talks me out of it. Which just pisses me off more. "Don't you have some shoes to shine? Or a latrine to clean?"

Tony purses his lips and folds his arms. "That is not what I do, and you know it," he says, eyes narrowed and words clipped. He spins on his heel and stalks off. Not to be outdone, I storm off too. I've got a pile of work waiting for me in my shop that never gets any smaller. Think I might skip using a hammer and just use my fists for a while. Maybe skip the forge too.

***

Fuck. The barrel is bent on Jarrit's rifle. Again. No straightening that out... I know they're gonna come back with grand tales about how awesome they were, and how big the titties they saved were or whatever the fuck they're doin' this time, but I swear they must destroy their gear on every job just to give me busy work. I can't go on missions if there's work waiting...

He can be a little prissy, but Tony's a good guy.

Trigger mechanism's shot too. At least he managed to keep the magazine from exploding in his hand. I don't know why he wants me to keep fixing this fucking rifle. There's not a single original part left on this thing. If it's so goddamn important, put it on a fucking shelf, moron.

Now I'm gonna have to go up there and apologize to Tony. Again. He's been a good friend to me. I get by ok without many friends, but "no woman is an island". Or something like that. Damnit, now I'm quoting him in my head. Or paraphrasing. Whatever. Fuck. I'm gonna have to do more than apologize... Fuck!

"And what the fuck is this shit?!" I toss down the twisted remains of Jarritt's worthless rifle and mourn the Capn's dented breastplate. This is one of my pieces, so seeing it all beat to shit is just that much harder. He scratched the etchings on it too. Beating it back into shape won't be hard, but restoring the imbuement is gonna take more time. And some Strapping Young Lad...

I glance around at the workbenches. My airbox is around here some-... there. More out of habit than need, I point my finger at it and snap my thumb down like it's a hammer. A tiny explosion just behind and beneath the airbox sends it sailing through the air, and I have to leap to catch it. I ruined 3 of these doing that until I figured out how to layer a fire imbuement over the existing air ones. I doubt the original creator would approve of my changes.

"Underneath The Waves," I say, whispering into the box. Immediately, the room is flooded with riffs and squealing vocals. Metal may not be the style anymore, but there's nothing better when I've got a piece of work to do and the bit in my teeth. I walk over and shut myself into the shop, and the volume creeps just that much closer to 'bleeding'.

Heat the piece, apply force. Heat the piece, apply force. Just like Dad taught me. Well, not quite. Dad never thought using my fists or my magic was a great idea, but he also didn't hate the results. Really, once you get the metal hot enough, anyone can bend it into shape by hand. They'd just have a much harder time holding on to it than I do.

***

The chow bell going off snaps me back to the present after a long session. I'm not even halfway done with the Capn's chest piece. He'll be ticked, but he won't push me. He knows how good I am. It's not gonna matter though. I'm done for real this time.

Shit. I'd forgotten about Tony. I scoop up a couple shavings, and start warming them. As they soften and bend, I etch veins in a few with my fingernail. If I'd thought about it, I coulda had a few of these things done before heading upstairs, but I wasted all my time fuming, and he'll be madder if I let dinner get cold. A quick press to get the leaves attached to the thin rod I'm using as a stem, aaaaaand...Yeah. That kinda looks like a rose. Roses are the easiest to do. Realizing they're the easiest just makes makes me feel worse about it though. Tony has no idea how long it takes me to do these. He's got two vases full of em. He loves them all and he'll love this one, but I still feel like shit for rushing it.

Metal rose in hand, I stump up the stairs. Apologies suck, and apologizing to Tony is the worst because I usually mean it. Sometimes, he gets bent out of shape for no reason. Like I said, he can be a little prissy, but I'm allowed to say that. He's my friend, and I'd knock anyone elses teeth in for saying that. I've done it too. Capn's gotten rid of two knuckleheads for gettin down on Tony, but I got to em first. Nearly broke Jackson's-

***

"Mackenziiiiiiiiiiiiiie!" Only one eye will open. "Maaaaaaaaaaaaack!"

"Hrm rm, hrrr.." That's not good. C'mon, Mack. You can do better. "Hrrrrrr."

"Keep talking, Mackenzie! I am almost there!"

"Hrrrrrrr..." Why can't I sit up? Or say the word here?

"Come on, Mackenzie! I need you to push with me!"

Why is the port side steam manifold laying on top of me? Wait, is-

Tony screams, and the huge pipe lifts an inch. Only one of my hands is working. I don't feel the heat but I know he can. I lift and squirm, and the pipe thunders as it rolls to my side. It only goes about a foot or so before it hits the inner hull and rolls back, but it's not as much of a threat now that it's not on top of me. Tony falls back against the wall, grimacing at his hands. I clamber to my feet and take him by the wrists. His gloves are ruined.

"Lemme see, lemme see." I yank off his gloves, eliciting a louder round of grunts. "Ok. No blistering. They're just gonna be tender is all." He nods, but he's in a lot of pain. I must not be seeing it all. "Why is the ship rocking so much?"

"It's not. We're in the ground."

My equilibrium has betrayed me. All this swaying is because I'm back on land again. "Did we get hit?!"

"Yes, and we've got to go!"

"We can't go! I've gotta get-"

Tony grabs the collar of my shirt and groans. "We cannot stay, Mackenzie! They are not going to let the ship just sit here! We did not fall far enough!" Blood is streaking over the left side of his face.

I try to shrug away, but he grips my shirt tighter and pulls me up the stairs. "I only need a few things, Tony..." Why am I letting him drag me? How is he dragging me? He's not. Not really. He's just pointing me in a direction and I'm walking. Why aren't I turning around? "No, I can't leave the Capn's breastpl-"

"The Captain is dead, Mackenzie. They would not have found us otherwise. We have to get out of here!"

He pushes me down another flight of stairs toward the port side airlock. This whole 'me taking orders from Tony' business is absurd. He rushes past me, probably because I can't get much of a head of steam going, and grabs the airlock door. The inner door swings open just as I get to it, and I lumber through and into the airlock. I mean, who does he think he is?

The outer door takes both of us working the wheel to pry loose, and the door swings out. Dirt is 10 feet below us, but it might as well be 100. My vision goes completely sideways looking at it. " uhhh, Tony, I-"

I feel his hands on my back, and then the ground rushes up to meet me.

I have more luck getting myself up to my hands and knees than I did inside, but it's not fast enough for Tony. He grabs my armpit and starts hauling me away. I'm in a state of perpetually falling forward for 20 or 30 feet until I get my legs underneath me. It's hard to see in the pitch black, but there wouldn't be much if I could. Deserts can be very unoriginal in that way.

We hit the crest of a dune, and that's all I can manage before I tumble. Over and down, down and over. I've lost my bearings by the time I skid to a stop. Tony skids to a stop next to me, crouching like he surfed his way down here. Agilitous bastard...

"Stay down," he says. I want to knock his head off. Stay down, he says. Like I have a choice...

It takes a minute to resolve into a sound I recognize, but when the shell finally lands, the boom is both deafening and blinding in the quiet dark. I grab the lapels of Tony's jacket, throw him over my body, and roll on top of him. His widened, terrified eyes probably mirror my own, but I'm too busy trying to brace myself for debris to really think about it.

A few smaller pieces bounce off my back to no effect. Suddenly, a larger flaming piece whistles past us and slices into the sand a few feet away. That would have cut right through both of us... We stare at it. For the first time in as long as I can remember, there is fire around me and all I can think about is getting further away from it.

"Dawn is coming," Tony croaks. "We should-"

"Yeah."

"Because they might-"

"Yeah."

***

The sun was finally setting. Tony had guided us by its path and was prepared to take us on by star light, but I needed a break. Years of working a forge and fire magic has given me greater heat resistance, but I'm not built for endurance like he is. There was no time to stop for supplies, and the desert is a surprisingly unpopulated place, lacking rest stops as often as I would prefer.

Tony ribbed me all day for lagging, but his nervous smiles afterwards had me thinking he was just trying to egg me on to keep walking. God bless that little queer. I am too. When the crew found out, I got more than a few plates with three square inches of rug or carpet served to me, but I resort to violence at the drop of a hat. My hazing ended quickly and poorly for the other participants. I could have hidden it if I wanted to, but it felt wrong to stay safe when Tony was so much more visible and vulnerable. I don't think he knows that's why I kissed that pretty blond dock worker in full view of the ship. I'll probably tell him someday.

"I just need a few minutes..."

"Mackenzie, dusk and dawn are the ideal times for us to be moving so we escape the worst of the heat and the cold."

"Fuck off, Tony!"

"Please, we really need to-"

"FUCK OFF!" My throat rasps, feeling the dehydration more acutely than at any point yet. I'm not doing well. A lifetime around fire had filled me with an awful knowledge of what to expect. I can feel my heart racing as my blood pressure is no doubt plummeting. I need to get Tony to keep going... "I just need to sit for a bit. I'm sorry. Why don't you scout ahead. I'll be up and following you soon."

He looks at me sideways, but acquiesces to my superior logic and heads off faster than we'd gone all day. The revelation that I'd been holding him back was...

...horrifying.

As soon as he disappeared behind the dune, I lay down to die. Hopefully, he figured out that kiss on his own. I'd hate it if he never knew.

***

"Come on, Mackenzie. Get up."

"Wh... why did you come back?!"

"Your selfless sacrifice is both admirable and unnecessary, little one. I spotted an encampment not far from here."

"You know I hate it when you call me that."

"Mackenzie or little one."

"Exactly," I grumble.

***

"Can you tell how many people are down there?"

"Looks to just be the one."

"Well, we either get busy walkin', or we get busy dyin'. One or the others comin' soon." I try to launch myself down the hill, but it's no better than the pace I managed all day. As we get closer, I start to worry about Tony's eyesight, because I don't see-

Everything happens at once. An elderly looking woman pops out of one of the caravans, carrying an ancient looking rifle. I reach back and pull Tony behind me. She raises the rifle, but her unsteady hands point it in a hundred directions a minute.

"...intentions!! What're yer intentions!! What're. .."

"...better pray the first one kills me, grandma! I swear..."

"...one please calm down! Please!!"

The woman locks eyes with me, and even though she's probably seen my lifespan 5 times over, there's still plenty of steel there. I go quiet, mostly out of respect, and she follows suit.

"Ma'am please, we are lost and without water! We have no weapons, or provisions."

"Weaponless, my wrinkly ass! That one's a caster!" Her voice sounds stronger than a frame like that should have been capable of producing. I nod slowly. Tony steps out from behind me, and she reorients.

"No! You point that thing right here, Grandma!" I poke myself hard in the sternum.

"I'll point it wherever I damn well please, red! Now quit interrupting the smooth one, cus he's the one I'll be dealing with. Isn't that right?" Her smirk is... offensive.

"That's right," he says, as he waves me off. My nostrils flare, being summarily dismissed not once but twice. I'd snort fire if I could... I reluctantly fold my arms and take a step back.

"That's more like it," she says, raising the rifle and throwing it back against her shoulder. "I knew I was gonna find someone out here this time. Knew it in my bones!" She grins and heads in towards the center of her little encampment.

"Please, Ma'am, we have no provisions at all. Are you able to spare some water?" Tony follows right behind her. I hang back a bit, still miffed.

"Oh, yer missin' somethin' alright," she cackles. Tony urges me to follow, and I grudgingly join them closer to the fire. She roots through a worn saddlebag at the foot of a camel, produces two green bottles, and tosses one to each of us. I can't help but feel uneasy as I snag the bottle out of the air. A minute ago, she was shaking too badly to hold a rifle straight, but now she can lob 5 lbs of water 10 yards? Twice? With accuracy? Tony's raised eyebrow as she turns back to her pack tells me he noticed it too. He shrugs lightly and pops out the cork. Yup... what choice indeed, Tony?

"Drink it slow now!" She was still facing away from us. I know that! I scowl, but her wicked grin when she looks back at me really makes me worry. Mind reading isn't real... but blood magic? Oh gods, I hadn't even considered! She laughs again just as panic starts closing my throat. "If I wanted ya dead, I'da shot ya from the start." I tentatively take another sip.

It's the best water I've ever had, which is saying a lot. Water and I have never gotten along, given my affinity for fire. However, I can't live without it and it knows that. It's never tried to drown me, and I've never tried to evaporate any more of it than necessary to power a steam engine. Mutual respect.

This is different. I guess I've just never been this close to death, because the feeling of life seeping into me is a euphoric sensation second to none. It's a bit like an alcohol buzz settling into my stomach and radiating outward. If she managed to slip us some booze to finish us off slow, then my hats off to her stiller because this stuff is amazing...

Tony sits down next to me and begins weeping lightly. It's easy to avoid survivors guilt when you don't think you're going to survive either...

He lays his head on my shoulder, and I tilt mine down against his. The Capn' had been a great man. Even Jarritt and Mendosa, those mischievous sons of bitches, they were good people at heart. They'd taken me in when I had nowhere else to go, when no one else would give a punk mechanic from Hollinsport a chance. Gods damnit, I hate crying in front of Tony...

I snake my arm out and around him and spin a little to hold him to my chest. He rests his head on my bosom and cries. He grieves more openly than I do. Always has. He cried when we buried Jackson, and Jackson had been hard on him. Too hard, really. The kind of hard that...

oh.

I rest my chin on the top of his head and hold him close. His arms wrap around my waist. We stay like that for what feels like hours, pausing only to take a few sips here and there.

I've never felt closer to him than I do when he finally looks up at me. We're the only ones left now. His features seem so soft, and so beautiful. Had I ever thought him too severe? Too narrow? Surely not. The heart shape gazing up at me now is one I've known since before I was born. Long before the last time my soul wandered this realm.

There you are. I've been looking for you, I say.

I'm already here, comes the response.

Our lips touch, and the fire dies. My tongue stretches, aches for yours, and when they meet, the stars explode. I lay you down, and your clothes burn away like an illusion. I crawl over you. You wrap your lips around my breasts, teeth pinching. As I lower myself, the prick feels so tight. Soooo incredibly tight! Oh, how I've missed this. Your cheeks burst with color as I rise and fall, but your tongue never stops.

Go all the way, you say. I swell with anticipation, and the prick does not disappoint. It's been too long. Too long by far. I sigh softly as our groins meet. Your response is like songbirds on a spring wind, melodic and faint, but filled with an understated joy.

The harmony of our love rises, races to the beat of our hips. Distant travelers nod their heads in time but know not why. It's been too long...

We spin. The desert is gone. The desert never was. The desert will not yet be for ages. You float above me, perpendicular, and yet never closer than now. You rise and fall. My teeth grit, crushing planets like grains of rice. I reach for your chest, and your squeal echoes through the vacuum of space, echoes forward and backward through time. Your lips part, and no sound escapes at all. Tears appear at the corners of your eyes, both sad and joyous. Far too long.

I am cumming, I say.

You're already here, comes the response.

***

My eyes try to retreat back into my skull as the dawn begins it's assault. For a giant ball of fire, you might think that the sun and I would have a better relationship than we do. It resents my abnormal tan, a mark of my natural magical abilities, and I resent it's obscenely bright presence for half the day. We continue as we ever have, in spite of each other...

I tuck my head down and find unexpected shade, so I tentatively peek them open. Tony is laying directly in front of me. It must have gotten awfully cold, because I'm spooning him. He might even be... huddling into my arms? I start to stretch, but he grabs my wrist and pulls it back around himself.

"What the hell-"

"Mackenzie, wait." Tony's voice sounds wrong. I frown and gaze over my shoulder. Wasn't there a caravan here last night?

"You ok, bud?"

"I'm... I am wonderful!" He giggles, but there's a slight quaver to his voice like he's crying.