Picked Clean

The lever told the treads where to go. The treads churned the earth in a narrow path. The path, the treads, the lever, even the hand that pulled the lever did not know the points. The hand led up to a shoulder and a neck, all the way to the head that did not care about the idea of a destination. The hand, a different one, rubbed the temple, scratched the scalp and set the course to cut through a ruined town overgrown with green. There would be salvage there and salvage meant commerce and commerce meant resources.

A timer broke the rumbling of the treads and the pilot, all parts of her body, heaved herself from the seat and set to the task of finishing lunch. Still steaming, she pulled a bag from the heater, ripped the top off and rummaged around for a fork. She sighed. She'd have to use her hands and burn her fingertips and just hate herself until she got what she needed. She tested the waters and that wasn't so bad. She popped one of the smooth pearls in her mouth, bit until the steaming juice coated her tongue and only gagged a bit. The rations were always bland in a disgusting way. It was still better than going hungry.

The pilot clambered up to the roof, bag held in her mouth. The treads knew where to go and did not need her input. She sighed as she felt the wind run across her face, carrying the scent of fresh grass and summer heat. The dry blades sang as they rustled against one another. Overpowering the treads even, a sea of dry green grass, off to the horizon, with jagged spires and broken blocks. She took another one of the beads from the bag and did her best to ignore the taste. It was too nice a day to linger on the bad senses.

The top deck was smooth, strung up with a flimsy umbrella to keep the worst parts of the sun at bay, with a thin hammock to take the weight off her feet. She took it, her momentum swaying, the treads doing the rest and she had a beautiful day of traveling in complete and utter silence.

Then her little comm system told her that there was another soul out there who wanted a chat to pass the time. She sighed. She told the rest of the tank to bring up the line and give her the voice.

"Amasi," said the tinny voice that grated in her skull, "Hey, Amasi. What's up?"

"Morning Hadhi," she sighed, "Just having breakfast. Sitting in my hammock. Probably going to do some maintenance on the tread wheels until I get to my salvage site."

"Nice, nice. Hoping to get something good?"

"I'm not giving you coordinates. Don't try and poach from me."

"I'm offended. I would never do such a thing. You have a sacred right to claim any site at any given time and I'll just have to go on back up solar to crawl back since I can't afford fuel."

"If you're out in this without fuel, then that's on you. You'd have to haul whatever you take back and that'd just take longer. Just keep trucking back home. You'll get there eventually."

"Or starve."

"Or starve. That's always a possibility. People starve all the time. I wish I was starving right now."

Amasi took another plump bead and ground the juice out with her molars. Bland, still bland with a hint of grass and flowery perfume. It was still terrible and hunger pangs were at least a more interesting sensation.

"Do you have enough water," she asked with a heavy sigh.

"Oh yeah," came the tinny response, "Just came through a heavy rainstorm so I probably have too much. My succulents couldn't be happier."

"You'll drown those things. They need like a drop a month."

"More or less, but they can still wither away. Like me without food."

"Still not getting the coordinates. If you're that desperate, toss up a flare and some good Samaritan will probably save you. Maybe."

"Would you believe I'm out of flares?"

"Yes. Yes I would. Too bad. So sad. Oh, look at that. There's a flock of geese. Aren't they pretty?"

"Can't see them Amasi."

"Well that's just too damn bad. What can you see?"

"Some really pretty flowers. They're like this, I don't know, turquoise? Can flowers be turquoise?"

"I imagine they can if they want. I'm not in any position to judge what a flower can or cannot be. They might even change to a pink if you keep staring at them. Maybe a white too. All three at the same time. Everything and nothing."

"Stop being philosophical about this. There is a flower field and I can hear every single insect scream about how they want to fuck."

"And that is bad how? Insects are usually pretty good things to have around. They make more flowers. Some of them make honey. Some of them make holes in the ground."

"And some of them make big shit balls they roll around. Bugs are terrible. There should be none and the flowers can just figure this all out themselves. Lazy bastards. Just soaking up sun all day and hoping for rain."

Amasi stretched long on her back, feeling the weak bits of sun filter through the umbrella and dance across her face. It settled on her neck and she stretched long while Hadhi continued to drone on and on and on about the insects and how they were terrible and biting and itching and they should all just drop dead. The rustling grass sounded like insect wings if she forced herself to think that way. Hadhi certainly sounded like an endless drone but that might just be the on comings of a nap.

---

Quiet, blessed quiet, the stars out and shining, darkness in all direction, with only a geyser of light from the cabin itself to send up Amasi's location. She kicked the hatch closed and it was just the stars again. A wide streak of blistering lights, not a cloud in the sky and a dancing swarm of fireflies arcing from the grass. She watched every single light, only distracted with the few thin streaks of comets from on high. She did not make a wish. She only took another heated pouch of nutritious bulbs. These ones had a slightly sweet tinge lingering on her tongue when she was done with their juices. She liked these ones a bit better than the breakfast ones but not by much.

The hammock had the same configuration as last time. The insects were not in any particular mood to disturb her either, even with the sweet bait in her hands. She let the strings sway and take her weight with the ease of the wind.

Off on the horizon she saw the ruins come up like blunt, cracked teeth. They were set into the hills. The scans from the drones showed blown out windows and forgotten glass. It was all worn down to smooth pebbles, no more harmful than a soft bed of grass. The reconnaissance even gave her a fun park to set up base while she set the drones to recover all that delicious scrap. She wished she had something a bit more bitter in hand to brace against the night and did nothing else. Her stomach and her tongue made its preferences know and, like the rest of her, just had to exist within that level of disappointment.

Her comms were silent, so that meant she was silent as well. The wind washed over her, dragging her down to a bed rock of the soul. She took another one of the pellets and nothing killed her in the moment.

She was bored. That was the purest torture of all this. Endless nights spent outside under the majesty of the universe and she was just bored with it. A starry sky was less magnificent when the stars all had names and she was content that her count was more or less accurate. Even the swimming lights closer to her were less than enthralling as they just kind of floated there, blinking in and out, in and out, with a rhythmic nonchalance of something incapable of understanding anything other than on or off. Her pouch was empty and that was the last bit of sensory joy she could pull from the moment. The metal sang to her in its clicks and moans.

She was tired, but not excessively so. She really just wanted to stretch out her hips so her ass forgave the harsh seat which was the only one she could afford. Her knee popped. Her spine cracked and then she just flopped into nothingness as the world sang to her.

She watched the stars with a scant amount of interest. There were shapes she knew and some that were just made up where they did not enter in the map books or the stored coordinates. Mostly, it was just that long wide river of blurry light, each singular dot colliding with the next. Amasi watched and sighed and didn't really want to go back inside and go to bed proper.

She was bored and that had certain repercussion as she was turned into herself. She talked with Hadhi earlier and that meant she was thinking about it. Long nights spent under the stars, alone, terribly alone. That was a voice and a body attached the voice and it could be so much more than what was actually conveyed with tone and words. Her hand rested on her stomach and she thought about it. There was a halfway formed idea to make it into the next act. She wanted it. She did not want it. Her hand on her stomach drummed against her skin and considered. It would be nice. The night was comfortably warm and no one was around. She didn't want to get up and find her tools. That would require effort and work and they probably weren't even charged, This far out needed a good dose of rationing, even if it wasn't too big a threat. She would survive. Her nails were trimmed and her hands were well versed enough.

She shifted in her hammock, taking her legs apart just a bit and sighed, giving into the lazy heat of her stomach and her needs. It was bored, just as well, just as uninterested, but not unappreciative. It always felt good when played right, the act of self care. It would be calm and blase, nothing passionate or fiery. She knew this. She expected this, it was all her body could handles and she dared not ask for more. She shifted again, on her side, staring over the lip of her perch and into the endless sea of dry grass. The fire flies were still there, apathetic to everything other than their meandering dance. Amasi was much the same.

It always started simple, just a bit of pressure in between her legs, muted through every layer of thin, comfortable fabric she wore. It kept the edge of the chill out while letting everything else in. Lazy, unimpressive clothes meant for nothing more than waiting. It still gave her texture to work with. Not quite rough, but still not soft. Thin and light, all that pressure no more than a breeze at first. She let out along breath and felt her entire body give way. She was doing this. Everyone would see and she didn't even care.

Pressure at first, up and down, simple easy motions that she didn't have to think about, all through the layers of thin fabric. Heat, there was heat in her that slowly bled out. She did not give it anymore energy than it needed. Her heartbeat quickened and her breath stalled for a moment before turning into a deep heavy sigh. The grass did not respond. She was not that important in the grand scheme of things. She agreed with that assessment and did not do anything to change it. She gave herself more pressure, up and down, felt the heat build up in her before it escaped from her mouth in another sigh.

The thoughts were on herself and nothing else. With broad strokes, with a wide brush all the outside world slowly blotted out until she was just a hand and a set of nerves feeling fabric and pleasure and not much else. She shifted again, onto her other side, her hand still between her legs and doing everything it wanted. Simple pressure, nothing novel, almost boring with its routine intensity. Her free hand supported her head.

Amasi saw the lights in the sky, the drones dancing in the grass, and let her thoughts wander. Nothing distinct, nothing concrete, abstractions of what she liked and what she wanted. Circles and pressure, a hint of more and more and more and more. She just wanted an enough that was still more than she was giving herself. More shifting, more stretching and she had a hand closer to her skin. Her skin was cool and soft and tight, thrumming with her heart beat and eager to respond. He hand pressed into her stomach, her pelvis, her thighs and her entrance. Heat, raw animal heat, simple and uncaring, greeted her and she angled herself to better take advantage of her shapes. She closed her eyes again and found the same indistinct thoughts and shapes to chase after, Arms and shoulders, broad chests, an amalgamation of things to hold and be held by. All had smooth skin, tight skin, soft skin, eager to drum against her. Phantom limbs, phantom heat, forgotten sensations that titled her neck. Her hand went faster and gave her a harsher pressure. Still lazy, she gave herself more.

She finally broke the one bit of separation and gave into that heat with a single finger. Tightness in her core, heat on her breath, a lazy weight strung across her shoulders and the hammock took all the motion and tuned it into something greater. Her entire body rocked with the motion her hand gave, back and forth, side to side, suspended with only the thinnest of nets to keep her safe.

It was a dull rounded pleasure, a weight in her core slowly expanding outward, only for it to shrink and collapse into one another and then start again. It was all the breath, all the heat, all the dancing lights tuning against one another. She felt the heat again rise and it stayed there with her touch. She gave one more finger to the act and that was much better. It was starting to get annoying, that little tickle in her nerves. She gave herself more, rocking back and forth, back and forth in her little hammock.

The wind picked up again, rustling the grass and carrying her away, across the ruins, across the plains out into the world where nothing else heard her. The space swallowed all of it, did nothing for her and left her to twist in the wind, playing herself and giving her the shapes she gave. Her hips angled a bit and let her fingers find the spot they should.

Her mouth found the rough folds of the hammock and bit, wetting the threads with her saliva. She worked the ropes and went harder against herself. It was what she needed and what she gave to herself, an endless gift that would never run dry. She went faster, moving her entire arm into the act and the threads muffled her cries. She went back to the indistinct shapes of bodies, the thought of the act as she knew it spurring her faster, She gave herself breadth, filling and spreading and opening, forcing her legs even wider.

That was the pace, the endless journey that she rode. Nothing changed, nothing shifted it was the slow rise of lightning in her core, sparks shutting down her higher thoughts and making everything she wanted collected into a single spot. She stayed there, right there, feeling the indistinct shapes of sex fall away to the real idea of having nothing else in her mind except that thought. It grew wider, that star of light, and she kept drumming inside of her, fingers working in time with her hips. That's all it took.

It didn't have a moment of clarity. A slow build up, a slow sigh and an even slower realization that she had shut her eyes and felt nothing else other than that same bright heat blot out her senses.

For a long moment, there was no hammock, there were no treads, there were no rustling grass laden down with glowing fireflies. There was her body, a soft quiver in her thighs, and a choked breath in her throat that refused to give her release. Her eyes were screwed shut. Her fingers finally stopped and let her body feel whatever it wanted so that it could rest and maybe go again.

Just like the entrance, the exit was just as slow, Ink blots of darkness gains the endless expanse of white, and then that abyss gave way to the stars, just as she left them. They did not care. They had their own light to go through and glimmer with. She sighed, rough at the edges, and exhausted from doing nothing. There was a soft glow in her stomach, slowly pulsing to her limbs, She flipped back onto her stomach, face pressed into the thick net supporting her and carving a deep line into her cheek. The breeze rocked her back and for the and she stared a the cold iron floor with rusted rivets.

The lights collected into a single clear tone. She answered it because, otherwise, it would just keep going.

"Hey Hadhi," she sighed.

"Hi," said the tinny response, "How's it going?"

"Just about to go to bed. Don't think I have time to-"

"I bet you were jerking it."

"Hadhi, I don't really have time to talk right now."

"That's fine. I was jerking it. Found some good stories on the net and that's kept me busy while I'm crawling along. Wait a sec. Here's my favorite."

The other line went silent for a beautiful moment. Amasi rolled over, the wet spot from her mouth now lying on her neck while her fingers still carried the essence of her arousal. She didn't have anything to wipe it off. It just stuck to her fingers, slowly cooling. Her unsullied hand covered her eyes. If she hung up, then it would just make the call come back again, without a missed beat. Her silence was broken with a clearing throat.

"Ok, so," said Hadhi, "Here we go. 'A thought hits me as I stare down at the home. It's an odd little knot that sits in my stomach as I tumble with it. It's missing a window. The house is missing a part of its skin, like a body opened for surgery. It's not open or shattered or boarded up, there's just an empty hole where a window belongs. Structurally, it's all the same, but missing a small part of itself. We're not using the-"

"Hadhi," said Amasi, "If the first line of something smutty isn't a description of genitals, it's bad smut. That's just the rule. If there isn't fucking on the first page, it's bad smut. It sounds like you're just reading shitty fiction."

"No, no, there's sex in there. Its kind of deep but that's what makes it better."

"If you say so. I'm not judging. Ok, maybe I am. But I really, really need to go to bed. You can keep reading, but I will hang up on you and you will just be talking to yourself."

"'Our transport hums in time silently along the swarm as we leave that house behind. I can taste them in between my teeth. I'm just imagining it, or so I've been told. It tastes metallic and gritty. I feel them spark across-'"

She shut him down and gently flopped out of her hammock. Her legs were a bit shaky, but they kept her upright. The world did not give any input as to her change. It just let her slip back into her hold, clean herself of sin and slip into her bunk. Even with everything shut down, she could feel the vibrations of Hadhi reading off terrible, worthless smut because the universe did not want her to forget the infinite tendrils connecting her to everything else, no matter how much she wanted to shut them out.

---

The ruins disregarded their new trespasser. They were much too busy collapsing into one another and falling into dust. They would get theirs, eventually. Amasi directed her craft to keep to the wide alleys and avoid the pitfalls. The sonar drones picked up hollow tunnels running underneath most of the space. Underground water transportation probably. Useful, if it could get pumped back up. She hadn't seen any of that particular configuration in any of the settlements she'd seen. Mostly aqueducts in the north, some cisterns towards the south, and rain catchers carried the bulk of the east's work. The west just did whatever and it seemed to work. She always did the rain method, supplemented with whatever the sonar picked up.

It was a gold mine now, but her expertise told her this was a manufacturing town at some point. Wide streets, all winding through a massive warehouses on the north end. But the odd part was the mass of tunnels built into the hill. Too wide to match the underfoot ones, almost enough for her to fit her craft inside. That's where the drones kept pointing her towards. She didn't trust it. Too much gold, it should have been picked clean a bit more than it was.

She told herself she was just lucky. She could be lucky. It didn't happen often, but it could. That's the point of chance. Things could happen and they could be good. The sonar drones pinged again. There was a good set of iron to break down not too far from her. That was a good start. She told her machines to do everything they wanted to do. The target was a red painted frame, with chains dangling from the top. Odd things, structured next to a trio of iron planks on fulcrums, designed to do nothing else other than go up and down, back and forth, forever with the slightest nudge. She did not pretend to understand the purposes of those that came before. They did what they wanted and she did the same. She sipped from her canteen. There was a nutritious powder mixed in, sucrose and vitamins, slightly thicker than plain water. It was designed to help her work without breaks. It also just so happened to be one of the few things that she actually liked when she was out in the field.

Her suit hugged her hips in a pleasant enough way. The fabric crept up her spine, with a bit more weight. Supported, all of her limbs lifted and protected, just the right amount of tightness, and a complete neutral to all the elements. She twisted and the suit twisted with her. Her supplies sat in her bag and that sat on her back. She didn't want to go outside. The hammock was still calling to her and that was such a sweet song. She pushed the thought away. She didn't have a harsh deadline, but there was still a deadline and that was terrible. The drones were nice enough to map a route through her. With a tired sigh, she pushed open the bulkhead, snapped her respirator around her mouth and pulled her goggles down low, and stepped outside.

It was beautiful out, a bright shining sky, wispy clouds a gentle breeze running across the grass and weaving through the hollowed out buildings. The mask ran through the particulates, giving her numbers and percents. Nothing would kill her outright, so she slowly undid the latches and breathed in her first round of truly clean air. It carried the scent of overgrown grass and stone dust. She traced the drones path over head, carrying the scraps of iron and slotting them perfectly into the cargo hold. She painted another set of exposed rebar for them to take apart. It wouldn't be worth a lot, but it would be worth the time spent as she slowly meandered through the field. The ground under her feet felt hard. It was that old poured stone that everything before now seemed to adore.

She painted more exposed metal with a wave of her hand. Bits and motes, slowly entangling in her cargo hold. The drones were even nice enough to start estimating their tally and making sure that she had enough fuel to get back. An endless balancing game that she was going through the motions of. More rebar, another twisted lattice of thin metal poles curved into a dome with no authentic purpose, it all broke down into a growing hoard.

The map took her to a structure taller than the rest, still mostly intact. Everything told her that it was safe enough to explore. She told her craft to slowly make its way to a marked position and entered, respirator back on her lips and filtering out the poison baked into the walls. It would all be handled once she was through decontamination at the end of the day.

The drones followed her as best they could, hovering at the edges when they couldn't figure out the whole path finding thing. They waited patiently as she painted the lines on the cracked floor. She could feel the kick back as the glove made sure that everything was exactly as it should be.

This building had the old, old infrastructure. Rotted out machines filled with thin filaments of precious metals, all waiting for her and the swarm behind her. She felt the machines push past her and slowly unwind the structures. She didn't like it. All of this should have been taken apart, the others of her vulture flock rolled through and left the bones open for her to get the marrow. There was meat here, right out in the open. The drones cut through the rotting walls to get to the copper blood vessels.

There could actually be archives here if the wires were still out in the open. She could have the secrets of the old world at her fingertips and a chance to actually put her feet up and take it easy for a second, maybe get drunk and find something to take care of her that wasn't her fingers.

She saw the valley again from on high. It was the same as it was before. This floor seemed to be a space dedicated to relaxation almost, cabinets to the side that had more of the gold blood to siphon out, tables overturned and scattered with the chairs in a flimsy barricade, more poisonous mold in the corners. None of this sat right with her. None of the contacts had this site flagged, none of what she saw had the hairs on the back of her neck on end. The lack of threat was a threat. Shadows to jump at, the stars misaligned, she inched forward closer to the hole in the wall, and sat, edges dangling out into the open air. Her drones kept their work, small craft, pill shaped with little pinches on the underbelly to cut away, little rotors on the sides to make sure they were kept aloft. They worked silent in a streamlined march from the builder to her craft.

She sighed and tapped her finger on the ground. It was just her thoughts and nothing more. Too much spent in isolation, rolling through the plains with only a phantom of Hadhi's voice to console her. People weren't met to live like this. There might be a point to the clan structure with defined borders and fortification. Hell, even a pack of other scavengers might be something worth pursuing, if she had the network to support her. She didn't. She was alone, watching the world and cursing the idea that she wanted companionship. It would be work and she didn't want to do any of that.

A tremor rocked through her bones. Quiet at first, almost imperceptible, but enough to trick the senses that something was happening. She saw the grass wavier in the cracks, and then the structures responded just the say. It was all blades of grass being in the wind. She was with the motion, all that vibration running up her spine. She stood, feet under her. Dust and debris running down her shoulders, she ran. Against the wall, in the frame, pressing herself into the safest thing she could. Panic in her chest, a cold set down the back of her neck, she braced against the wall as the tremors grew stronger.

Through the gap, she saw a section collapse across the street. A wide gouge in the structures, a new gap tooth in the smile, the world was dying and she had nothing in her power to stop it.

And one more moment and then it was over.

The world was still there, under a blue sky, woven through with a gentle breeze. Silence, blessed endless silence where nothing broke through, nothing at all. There should be something though, a gentle buzz of drones and machinery, the occasional harsh whine of the cutters doing there job. But there wasn't. With cautious steps, she traced the path she came in through.

All of her drones were dead, laying on the ground like swatted insects, leading back to a nest on its last legs.

---

"Hadhi," she sighed, "I have no fucking clue what's going on."

"I know," said Hadhi, "I know. And I'm going to say the worst thing in the world and that is to calm down. You've run diagnostics and got everything up and running again. You still have food and water. Just pop a flare and someone will be along to collect you if you don't want to crawl with the solar batteries. That's what I'm doing, eventually. Plenty of time for reading meanwhile."

"And that's why you have such bad taste. You've run out of everything good."

"Everything is bad. Everything was always bad. Everything will always be bad. I found a better one, I think. At least the score is higher. 'Sunshine, a cool breeze blowing, an endless expanse of rolling hills and knee-high grass, the flock wandered through it all. The sheep grazed under the watchful eye of their shepherd. The shepherd looked out over the hills, crook-'"

"Stop. Did you at least look over the diagnostics from the drones I sent over?"

"Yep. But I didn't find anything you didn't. What the hell is a sheep by the way?"

"A what?"

"A sheep. This one has mentions sheep a lot and I have no clue what they are."

"Nope. I got nothing."

Hadhi hummed something and Amasi sat back in her chair. She didn't want to go to the hammock. There would be shadows up there, unfamiliar ones. It was better to stay in side, wrist deep in the drones innards, software running to look for faults. There were none. She found none. Hadhi found none. It just wasn't running. The earthquake shook the life out of them. Every chord ran throughout a central node, a and there was no grand design for everything to follow. Uncoordinated, severed from the rest, a body without a head and nothing to direct. The manual way still worked at least. She could shove and pedal her tank all the way back home if needed, but her arms would give out every ten feet.

"Do you think you're alone out there?" Hadhi asked.

"No clue," she signed, "And that's what's freaking me out than anything else. Its been months since I've seen another person."

"Oh, that's bad. You haven't seen the updates that have gone through. We're all shadowy now. Completely intangible. Surprise, I'm actually behind you right now."

"That doesn't really make me feel better. That means I have to share my food."

"Yep. We still need food. You should have gotten more."

"I needed bullets. Don't be mad at me."

"I can be and I will. You need more soap too since I decided to take advantage of your bathroom. Fresh out the shower, naked as a jay bird and you can't see a thing."

"Is that what's poking me? I thought it was a mosquito."

"Nope. You got the sucking part right, but its supposed to be the other way around."

Despite herself, she laughed. Nothing heavy or actually debilitating, but enough to get a short gust of air moving and a thought that she didn't expect. It was true.

"Should I be naked too?" she asked.

Silence, long blanketing silence that seemed to stretch the distance between to the breaking point.

"Are you sure you're up for that right now?" Hadhi asked.

"Probably, maybe. This is a ploy to keep you on the line in case the tremors come back."

"Not much I can do. I can scream real loud, but that'll just blow out your eardrums."

"I can take that risk. For once, I want to keep talking. You should be happy."

"I am. I really am. Just want to make sure that we're in this together. Speaking of together, how naked are you?"

"Working on it. That suit just gets so tight, especially around the chest."

"Really? And does it feel good when you take it off?"

She said nothing. She just shifted a bit and and hummed as her hands fiddle with the clasps and straps and zippers. A bit more tension and and a bit of effort and the outermost layer started to fall away. She sighed, heavy and raw, as she gasped at the endless freedom. Heavy, deep breaths, wild and pure and forever free.

"Oh that sounded like it felt good," said Hadhi.

"You have no clue. I can breathe again. I'm even massaging them. They can get so sore."

"I know what you mean. Kind of. Sort of. It can get stuffy down there."

She laughed gain, breathing and moaning because she was putting on a show at this point. Exaggerated, but never completed fabricated.

"Is that big and heavy too?" she asked.

"Yeah, but its super inconvenient. I have to let it drag behind the crawler. Sometimes I can't see the tip over the horizon," he said.

"Don't make this funny. This is supposed to be sexy."

"Eh, sexy is overrated. You have a beautiful laugh. I'd much rather hear that. It's why I keep calling you really."

"Really? Not the huge boobs."

"Never seen them so I wouldn't know. I assumed they'd be average sized but I can adjust. I like to think I have some pretty good arms. Could probably but a bit more focus on them with the work, but I like to keep everything balanced, you know? Function over form."

"And what are those arms doing now?"

"Nothing crazy, just kind of pressing on it while I'm on the bunk. I like hearing your voice."

Amasi shifted in her sear and took more of her suit down, peeling and pulling, letting her heat breathe. It was over her stomach, rubbing her thighs together. It was an odd heat, small and flickering, to hear those thoughts voiced and reciprocated. A tenuous thread of passion, hair thin and almost invisible, but it was something. And it was something more than just being alone. Her sensors didn't pick up anything, even as they swept the corners. A full lock down, just to make sure her thoughts were the worst thing that could happen to her. Even though they were starting to fall.

Just like when she was alone, it was an indistinct picture. Arms, smooth strong arms, Hadhi probably had some tattoos as well. Something more whimsical rather than classy. Some in joke that she would never get. It would still be nice, if only for the contrast. She traced the imaginary lines and with a bit of reverence and sighed.

"Oh that sounded nice," Hadhi said,

"I may or may not be naked right now," she said, "It does feel good, I have to admit. I'm on the floor, all spread out and vulnerable. If only someone would be here to ravage me."

"I don't think I would do that at first. Something gentler, maybe. You sound like you'd prefer something more lazy, something more devoted to you."

"Candles and flowers then?"

"I'd take that. I've certainly earned it."

She laughed again. Her hands crept lower and lower. It was nice to have the same thing again, shared. There were odd hitches on the other side of the line, caught breaths and little noises, almost visible. He was touching himself, keeping the senses nice and calming. And she gave it back, not worrying about the show. It was just her breath, her heat and everything behind her yes slipping into a single purpose. No rule, no rations, no rumbling tremors out there to take away her life's blood. Just a shared act with too much distance between them.

Her hands worked again, just like they did before. It was practiced. All of it fed into the noises she made and all of that was made to reverberate and echo back to her. Hadhi kept his voice deep and low, almost rumbling like an earth quake. She felt it shallow in her spine as every speaker in her room was devoted to the act of conveyance. It shook the base of her skull, ringing like a bell and singing so sweetly. Hers went higher, cleaner, more of knife to cut the distance between them down to something more manageable.

Her eagerness surprised her, as the thought of indistinct bodies pressing their warmth together was enough to have all that swept away. And the fact that she had an audience, a responsive audience just as eager to have the same as what she took. All of her was that, call and response, wordless and indistinct and primal. This was meant to be shared and taken. This was most pt be something that everyone knew about and wanted to participate. She just had the play with her won body, fingers move and head propped up in the crook of her arm while all of her was on her side. That always seemed to be the particular configuration that made everything a bit easier.

"Do you have anything to play with over there," she asked, not bothering to hide the edges.

"There's a sleeve around her somewhere," said Hadhi, "But I don't really use it that often. I have to get the lube out and then it kind of gets everywhere."

"Oh that's have the fun part though. Everything slick and messy and shiny. I bet you'd look amazing like that."

And that turned his groans even louder in her ear. Simple things, compliments and adoration, both for hers and his sake and it didn't matter. It was supposed to be a bit too much to handle. He was supposed to be exaggerated, just a bit. Everything looked good wet and shiny, evidence of work. She certainly would like to think of herself like, just to make the contact between them sweet. Her fingers moved faster, circling and pulling, spreading and closing. She was good at the mimicry.

"I have a wand around here somewhere," she sighed, "And I really should use it more than I do. It just takes forever the charge and I can't excuse the power cost. It leaves me kind of oversensitive anyway."

"That's a shame. You deserve it. Probably. Maybe. Spend a long day hauling in scrap and just starfish until you're unconscious at the end. That sounds amazing."

Something broke out and gave in his throat as he started going faster. She could hear it, she could hear every second of that pleasure he gave himself and that was enough, more than enough, but it would satiate her. A physical thing with weight and heft and heat, all for her and she would hold it until it all went cold.

Amasi went faster and faster, setting her voice free and unrestrained. Hadhi responded with the same tempo. He was stroking himself, hard and deep, doing the best he could with what he had. Phantoms lying next to each other, imagined caresses and grasps, doing what they could to have something. She felt her core clench when he materialized as something solid. She buried herself in his chest ash is free hand roamed her back. Images with no substance, a trick of the light, shadows to jump into rather than away from. He had strong hands, she hoped, wide enough to take the entire span of her spine, thick muscular legs, all of him well defined. He probably wasn't, but he could be. He would have short cropped hair, a stupid dopey smile to make her heart warm. Maybe something big enough to impale herself on and feel everything go numb. All lies she told herself in all probability, but he was doing the same on his end, breasts bigger than her head, narrow waist, wide hips, those odd doleful eyes that did nothing but passively plead for ravishing. The rally of thoughts and figments passed back and forth between them, doing nothing else other than goading the other, her fingers were moving faster and faster, in time with the canned breath as she laid on her side and kept her thoughts racing.

"Getting close," her groaned. That was one mark against the reality of her making. He could not last forever, give her more than she wanted and leave her slaughtered on the floor while he was still hard. Shame, but that was the nature of dreams. She was getting there as well, in her own way, shallower, wider than her last.

She moaned and that was enough. Soft swearing from the other end, and he surprised her when the noise of his release hitting his stomach got picked up by the mic. Fair enough trade, all things considered, and the perfect thing to send her careening into her own. Stars behind her eyes, teeth into her lip hard enough to be painful, she joined him, choking and whimpering, hoping that everything was getting carried away and given to him.

His ended first and she could only imagine the aftermath. The entire wall painted, up to his knees even, but that was the excessive thoughts that popped up between flashes of white. She was too busy feeling her core snap and break to have anything realistic come to mind. She was lost to the idea of an infinite glow seeping across the grass as her legs gave out.

She came too with heavy pants and heaving breath, a thin coat of sweat across her forehead and the realization that her own release was a bit more intense than she realized, judging by the wet spots left down her legs. He didn't need to know that. She sighed long and heavy and raw.

"I hit my forehead with that," Hadhi said with a breathy laugh.

"No you didn't," she sighed.

"I totally did. And you hit the wall. Don't pretend you didn't have fun with that. Just say I'm the best voice you ever fucked and we can call it at that."

"You are but that is a small fish in a minuscule pond."

"Not my fault you haven't gotten around. Now you can go to every other line and see how I stack up. I'm sure no one that's good at voice fucking."

"That just sounds like a terrible time. Thank you though. Little less freaked out about a lot of things."

"I can stay on the line if you want. I'm good at checking under the bed."

"Thank you but I'm good. My turret's still loaded and I've updated my scanner. I'll be ok."

"If you say so Amasi. Just tell me where you're at and I'll come running."

"Not a chance. I can still come out of this with a profit."

Like a bastard, Hadhi just laughed. Like a savvy businesswoman, Amasi hung up on him with no fanfare. She had earned a shower and a good night's sleep. Hadhi had earned a thin towel and nothing else.

---

Quiet, silence, so much open space and skeletal scaffolding slowly running rakes across the sky and leaving behind bloody claws. Amasi had shadows, empty shadows and nothing else. Her suit clung tight to her body, pistol at her hip, just to add a bit of comforting weight this time around. A spare charge line fed in to her belt for the extra shots, and it was something. Not a solution to every problem, but something.

There was still that hoard in the hollow mountain. She had no guarantees of that there would be anything useful there, but it was the most likely place, if only for the sheer amount of things to hold. A jury rigged part in the right place for the whole thing to limp along, enough raw fodder for her printer to sculpt something close to working, she had hope for she had nothing more logical. She kept a hand on her waist, and walked through the beautiful day.

The buildings grew taller as they neared the mouth of the cave. She saw it cut into the rock with clear cut lines, more of that peculiar poured stone perfectly aligned. Chips and cracks, great missing pieces here in and there to cordon her into the insular route. At least her visor was still working with her. Nothing toxic or noxious in the air, nothing alive with heat or electricity. Silence, beautiful silence.

She felt the shadows slip over her shoulders and march. The sun kept at her back, gliding over this town. The moisture in the air grew heavier and heavier with each step. The respirator went up, just in case. A moment with the circuitry to come alive and she tasted the sharp cut of sterilized air. It was comforting.

The shadows grew longer and she finally conceded the territory. She tapped at her chest and the light came alive once again, diminutive against the expanse of the cavern, but enough to keep her safe. Stone, more stone, faded painted lines against the stone, even a few twists of rusted metal too far gone to be of use to anyone. Amasi almost jumped when the first echo returned to her. Only her footsteps and nothing more. She was alone, blanketed in an ever growing ceiling of rock, each inch of territory gained adding more weigh tot eventually crush.

Out of all the infinite moments, the chances that the next would be the one to actually collapse the whole mountain on her were slim. It didn't stop the math in her head from giving that answer. Really, it was just the same bet, again and again and again. She'd die down here, become nothing more than a voice on the other end of a line, the memory of that fading even more until it wasn't even an imprint in the ground. She kept walking, light painting the floor in front of her in broad strokes.

The cave opened up and swallowed the light. Echoes, endless echoes bounding and rebounding against one another, as she stepped into a vast hall of the mountain. The paint was a bit brighter, covering the ground in neat boxes. Even more interesting were the shells, primitive craft with four wheels instead of the treads. Smaller too, nowhere near enough room to build a life. She gazed inside. The shells, and saw nothing of interest. She kicked the tires and nothing fell apart. Rust, endless rust, emptiness long enough to shutter her light. The scanners picked up a small amount of particulates in the air, well below the threshold, but that only meant concentrations would get higher.

A noise, not her echo, not the rock collapsing, but a soft shuttering bled through the darkness. She pulled her pistol free and wheeled, scanning everything for the singular source. Nothing, she had nothing except the tension in her heart and a cold sweat down her neck. She was not good with the darkness.

Amasi walked as quietly as she could manage. No follow up, no clarification, just more empty shells slowly rotting into dust.

The light caught the edge of the cave and gave her a door off its hinges for her trouble. The pistol was still in her hand. It didn't want to leave. The paint had a few letters left, an 'E,' a 'P,' a 'Y,' and one more 'E,' but everything else was left faded into the stone. She poked the light inside and saw the tunnel narrow into a hall. It was just enough for a handful of people rather than a full armory. The paint spilled onto the floor in a singular faded line. She followed it.

The hall split off into smaller and smaller rooms. More of the same vital precious metals running through the small boxes, more of the same untapped veins only so eager to be taken away. The habit in her hands tried to paint them for collection, but nothing came back with the idea to make it so. It would still be good once this entire thing was sorted out.

To her endless surprised, there was still paper, actual unrotted paper in the drawers. She rifled through them, diagrams and faded ink, not really anything to make sense of. It was all technical jargon beyond her and her attention. Nothing but distractions from the shadows. She turned back to the hall.

Another hard echo danced down the long hallway, harsh and brittle. It was closer. She pressed herself against the edge of the wall and waited. Nothing, more nothing, just nothing, all in her head and nothing out in the world. Then it came again, harder and even closer, dragging against the stone.

A flash, right at the edge of her light, before the veil broke and a singular shard of iron skated across the floor.

She pressed herself into the wall and fired into the darkness. A pulse of blue white light bounded down the hall and splashed against the stone. A sharp edge, a pinprick of something long and sharp disappeared into the darkness and nothing came after her. She moved, giving chase. The panic gave way to a foolish charge as the urges clashed. They all settled on movement uncaring of the direction. Amasi kept pace as calmly as she could. The paint on the wall became clearer and clearer. 'Administration,' 'Design,' 'Break,' she chose the last to catch her breathe and settle again.

It was empty of anything skittering and sharp. Low tables and chairs, a counter with a sink and storage closets with even more shelves inside and nothing left in them other than the metal inside. More paper too, musty and stained. Little squares of color, large print jobs with odd humanoid shapes in facsimile of her own with cheery grins and positive affect. She curled at the wall and counted her heartbeats. Hard and fast, almost tumbling into one another, but she forced to them to watch their step and calm down. Her panic was useless. Calm, level headed serenity, that would be useful. She couldn't find it.

'What we do here is important' said the wall in a vibrant paint. She didn't care to affirm anything of the sort.

'We're sorry,' said the wall in a much duller set of scratches. She couldn't affirm that either. She just slowly came to rise, using the wall as much as possible and set out again.

Scratching and clawing, metal against stone was there to greet her and she still pressed on. Stranded out there in her crawler slowly watching all the food and water slowly slip away, or just the few minutes of pure terror with whatever was inside. She followed it. She followed the noise, pistol in her hand, a light waving back and first.

A deep rumble came with the knives. She marched through it.

Silence, she had another round of silence, loud enough to hear everything in her body rush and panic before the rumble came back again, even stronger. She stopped. It was a heartbeat, just like her own, on a stronger, bigger scale. The world itself slowly coming alive as it realized there was a foreign body slipping through its veins. The walls held more scratches, deep gouges, with no care as to for m words. Perfectly straight, perfectly narrow, from a needle cutting away the rock to better fit a shape she could not perceive.

The silence ended with a deep bass that shook her to her core. All of her reverberated with the noise. It didn't die down. It was all a hum drawing her in. She kept walking faster and faster, working her legs harder and harder, feeling her heart beat keep time, feeling her breath catch and flow with the slightest push and pull. She kept moving. She had no choice other than to keep working the muscles.

In the darkness, she saw a hinge bend against the stone and the drone broke under a thin keening screech. It moved away from her, uncaring and fast. She followed. A single blade, a single pistol, it didn't matter. She kept moving, kept the pace. Another leg tipped with a blade carved against the stone wit the parallel gouges against all the others. Shadows, endless shadows, blocky and strong, harsh corners and dim lights, she broke through the last barrier and found a craft.

It was all the same as her craft, minus the treads, held aloft on simple needles legs, deep pock marks on the floor, and a bright light piercing the gaps in time with the drone. She stopped. The craft blocked the hall and she could go no further. It was a wall, vast and insurmountable. At least the paint on the floor was clean and clear.

The craft did not care about her. It trundle along, slowly pushing and pulling the metal bulk into a too small hallway. Scrapes and rumbles and entire body to gouge the world away. The lights turned and found her there burning her retinas and stitching her in place.

"Please maintain a safe distance from the reclamation craft until procedures are complete," said a cheery voice from everywhere and nowhere, "Assuming minimal delays, reclamation will be complete in 39,175.45 days. Thank you for your patience."

"I'm sorry," she said, "Are you alive?"

The machine did not respond. It just took another set of spindly legs, slowly digging itself deeper and deeper into a set procedure of motions along the path. She was patient. The machine had no will other than bland pleasantries and gentle reprimands. She still kept a respectful distance as the craft skittered along, careful to not impede the work.

It wriggled like a fat grub and she increased the distance. The legs scrambled for purchase on some unseen lip and broke a seal of more blue white light. She sat, blinded and seared as the craft broke free. She still followed, slowly blinking the stars from her eyes at a pillar of light and glass came into view.

It was a cavern, just like the one that first greeted her, impossibly tall and perfectly round. A wall of painted stoned, a network of thin metal paths all inter-knotted over a maw of blue white light and sharp metal teeth, orbiting a pillar of glass and light. Dead husks, just like the one with claws and legs, laid huddled against the walls. The last one left alive tumbled and shifted, finding its way to a clear square and turning.

A door opened and a loose pile of scrap tumbled into the spilling light. The first piece hit with a flare of blue flame riding into the air before fading into the next. A spatter of flames surged, sucked in my the center pillar.

The rumbling came again, weaker than the rest as the last bit of metal flared into nonexistence. The light on her chest flickered and snapped before finally dying. The vast metal craft gave a happy little chime.

"Updated schedule," it said to everyone and no one, "39,175.43 days until reclamation. Our work is important."

"Hey," Amasi said, "Hey, is that good?"

"Please maintain a safe distance from the reclamation craft until procedures are complete," said the craft, "If you have any materials to be recycled in the nullification reactor, please inform the nearest reclamation technician before reporting to your assigned compartment. Have a pleasant rest."

"Hey. Is there anything you have that can fix my craft? I want to leave. I want to contact my friends."

"Please maintain a safe distance from the reclamation craft until procedures are complete."

"Hey. No. I won't do that. Where's maintenance or repairs or whatever the fuck you use to keep running? Are there spare parts or something? Hey. I'm talking to you.

"Please maintain a safe distance from the reclamation craft until procedures are complete. Further attempts to hinder the progress of the reclamation procedure will be considered hostile and steps will be taken to remedy any disagreements."

She raised her pistol and fired a single round, mostly for herself. The blue light on the craft turned to red.

"Fire arm discharge," said the craft, "Commencing defensive posture. Aggressive force engaged. Please maintain a safe distance from the reclamation craft until procedures are complete,"

The massive block of metal turned with its clicking gears and slashing legs, red light, blood red, cutting across the floor and mixing into a maddening purple under the edges. It churned against her. She turned and ran. The legs scuttled and clawed and broke. She kept running. Another shot, this one ricocheting off the side plating and embedding the bullet in the stone. She ran and the lights below turned fire red, just like the craft. She ran, following the paint. The craft followed her. Every second brought another tremor. It threatened to trip her and send her into the light. She ran, as the blades tried to nip at her heels and rend her down to the bone. The blade cut the air just behind her.

Red light spilled from the walls and the door to her escape slowly rolled closed with heavy iron and steel. She turned to the network of metal grating, feeling the net bounce with her steps, the foundations weak and breaking. Red light, so much red light, casting deep shadows along the ceiling like grasping hands wanting to drag her down into the mouth of spinning teeth.

"Please refrain from running on the scaffolding," said the craft, "Any damage to the reactor will only exacerbate the reprimanding."

"Come and get me then asshole," she shouted. She shot again. The bullets were expensive and useless but it helped. She shot again and the bullet joined the others in the ricocheted hole.

"Request received. Please remain still."

She didn't. She ran along the scaffolding into the reactor. The ground underneath her feet shuddered and bounced. She careened against the railings, feet unsteady and wavering. A tangle of limbs and motion, bouncing and knotting, she felt the weight test the steps and the metal, all of the metal screaming in p[protest. She shot again and did nothing, nothing at all other than scramble against the pillar of light.

It was cold to the touch with tiny threads of lightning on the other side. The hairs on her arm stood on end, running up to her neck, her head. She pressed her back against the pillar and waited for the sharp teeth to cut her open.

The craft was too big for the walkway. Like a skittish deer, it tested each step, only to be met with another round of bouncing protest. Blank and faceless, an automaton full of shadows. The limbs extended and unfolding, each second bringing out a new joint. It tried to support itself, spreading as much weight as it could over the net. It still buckled, sending a shower of screws and bolts into the maw. The light surged with each small spark. She shot again and the casing fell into the maw as well, the bullet bounced and hit the walk way.

Amasi stilled and calmed. She still had a clip and and the spent one joined the rest of the debris in the cleansing light. More sparks, more flashes. Pitting into the rusting metal. She pulled the rigger again, hitting her the walkway and carving grooves in the metal.

The walkway buckled and screamed again. The craft teetered and shifted, scrambling again at the edges. One more shot, more more casing, one more shower of bolts and screws into the light and the walkway gave out. Amasi linked her hand around the railing and held on for dear life. The craft locked into a rusting length of metal one last time.

"The reclamation craft has encountered difficulties," it said, voice calm and even, "Estimated time to completion will be updated soon. Thank you for your patience."

One more bullet, Amasi put one more bullet into the railing and the whole net collapsed. The craft dropped like a stone, taking the rest of the walkways with it. Her own handhold gave way too.

Falling, falling into a sea of blood red light, staring at a sky of stone and metal, she felt oddly calm. Every other option was just off the table, so it didn't need considering. She lost herself to the complete serenity of utter helplessness. She would miss a lot of things, those bland pellets, the sway of her hammock, the way Hadhi's voice carried and bounced off her walls, but she would never get to experience them again. Everything was finite and this was just the end of all those things.

The light bloomed around her as the craft made contact with the reactor. A giant hand of raw force pushed against her back. She was flying again, limbs slack as a rag dolling, the light grew again, blinding even in its reflections. It lifted her up as her skull upended with the noise of the entire mountain detonation. The hand, as helpful as it was, just took her to the stone floor and skipped her along, following those same painted lines that took her in. Her body caught a corner and something hit her head. Everything went dark.

---

It was all shot to hell and back. Amasi sighed and wiped her forehead. Blood, sweat and tears would not turn the world and let her ride out into the sunset. She had food and water, rationed carefully for the next forever or so. She would survive, slowly crawling alone whatever terrain was laid out for her. It wouldn't be quick. It wouldn't be easy, but she would limp into port with enough, just enough, scrap to cover the repair bill and go out again. This time, she had the coordinates and every single parasite was already dead. Ransacking with impunity, she'd haul back the entire mountain and finally set the craft down for good. No one could stop her.

It would take just take another forever with the cobbled together spares. Her ingenuity brought the ancillary batteries on line, the solar panels, just enough to keep her alive and bored out of her mind. She went back to work.

For her sanity, she had to have comms. For her survival there had to be the threads. For everything else, she had to call Hadhi and at least let him know that she was alive and that he could annoy her whenever he wanted, just so they felt human again. She never was that good with the wiring parts of maintenance. Something sparked and snapped and a blinding light burned into her eyes.

Blinking spots from her retinas, she withdrew from the innards and let the craft slowly come alive with the renewed blood pumping through its vines. It was a slow process. Each second brought a churning set of gears aligned with the shafts as more parts slotted together. The lights came back first, then the soft window of the fans, then the great shuddering hum of the engines. One by one, the systems turned alive and whole again. She was in her shell, a pearl safe from the current. She sighed and collapsed back in the pilots chair. The switches and levers responded to her touch and the treads, in turn, responded to them. Lights and noises, the softest of disturbances cut through the silence and eased her soul.

A bright chime cut through them all and she sighed. Of course, it would be him, butting in where he didn't belong just to announce that he was alive. She wasn't worried. Still, she did hit the button to let him through a little too quickly to be play it calm. Hadhi's voice drowned out all the other thoughts.

"Amasi," he said, "Hey, hey Amasi, are you there?"

"Yes, Hadhi," she said, "I'm here. I'm alive. Everything's fine. Just had some technical difficulties, but I got it all sorted out."

"Did the quakes get you?"

"Yes. This is actually Amasi's ghost. I still fixed everything."

He laughed. He laughed and that was enough to immerse the whole craft in a pool of warm jade calm. Amasi laughed too, despite herself.

"What was that," Hadhi said, "Did you just laugh at your own joke?"

"No. No I didn't. That must have been the ghost realm. There's a lot of background noise here. You wouldn't get it.

"No, no I probably wouldn't. I'm completely alive and mostly whole. I nicked myself while I was cutting something, but that's it. Just a little, little bit dead."

"That's good."

Another moment of silence, but comforting this time, something to keep the soul calm and centered and whole. It was a smothering blanket wrapped around her shoulder, just with a voice, just with a soft drumming vibration against her head.

"Seriously, Amasi," Hadhi said quietly, "I'm really glad you're OK. I was worried about you."

"I appreciate that," she said, "I really do. One of the scarier ones, if I'm being honest. Been a while since I've had one rattle me this much."

"I get that. Most of the time its just looking at rusty metal and being bored out of your mind. At least, that's what got me in trouble last time."

She looked at the monitor in front of her. The scanners were coming back on line, tallying all the heavy metals still untapped. More than she could carry, more than a handful trips could carry, more and more and more than what she could possible put a dent in over several lifetimes now that the scurrying ants guarding the hill were quiet.

"Hey," she said, "I'm going to send you some coordinates real quick. Y'know, just in case you want to meet up."

He didn't respond, even as the numbers floated off to his side of the world. She didn't want him to. Any words would simply be meaningless but his silence spoke volumes.