Technomancer 11: Broken Love and Half-truths

Masa stared at the old HEB sign, towering into the dusty orange sky. It was getting late and a long time ago, it would have been lit this time of evening. Beside it, a sign for a MacDonald's, a mechanics shop, and a Dunkin Donuts. "Do you think some of them still do business?" she asked Arion, over the drone of the crowd.

"I doubt it," Arion replied, pulling along their handcart. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, threatening to fall. A sheen of it covered his bare arms beneath the tank he wore. He swallowed, panting and wiping his brow, "I checked a few of them out when you went exploring yesterday. They are empty or being used as storage."

"Huh," Masa muttered. "Here, have a drink," she said, offering him the canteen at her waist. He dropped the cart handles, took it from her, and downed it. "Thirsty?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, shaking the sweat from his short brown hair. "I wish we hadn't got caught in all that foot traffic." Stall after stall passed them, and the vendors' cries filled the air. Some were merely tents, and others, more permanent were constructed of wood and metal.

"We had to get the supplies," Masa said. Since the vehicles had stopped working, the foot traffic on the old highway had increased. It had taken them all day and by the time they reached the offramp, it was well past noon. Smiling, she thought of the view. It made the journey worth it. From I-35, the Laredo market had looked like an ocean of tiny huts, stretching along the main road into the heart of the city. Against the backdrop of tall buildings in the distance, their presence created a discord in her mind that she struggled to rectify. The medieval market was an alien presence in what remained of the modern city. It all disappeared once they joined the market crowds.

The people around them also pulled similar carts, constructed from old bicycles and car tires. Between them, travelers from further away wandered, their packs laden with treasures to be bartered or the occasional thief, running through the crowd.

Piles of tools, pottery, jewelry, and more filled the counters of the stalls. "It's hard to tell which of these are made locally and which were stolen," she muttered, staring at a set of dishes on one of the tables. The vendor glared at her and she smiled innocently, picking up one of the dishes, and looking at the underside for a maker's mark, but there wasn't one.

Arion snorted, "You're not going to find a label. Enough time has passed that most of what you see here is produced locally. The people are figuring out how to make things without the factories."

Masa put the plate down, distracted by one of the horses pulling a larger cart. She smiled and ran to it, running her hand down its nose and laughing when it tried to eat her hair. It sneezed and her hair felt wet. She touched it, pulling away thick green snot, and shivered. Howling laughs came from the direction of the cart. Arion was doubled over, struggling to breathe.

"That wasn't funny," she said, scowling at him.

"I've never seen this side of you," he said with a grin, approaching her and pulling a rag from his pocket. "You missed some." He helped her get the last of the mucus from her hair before their eyes met. His eyes softened as he smiled, "I think I like this softer side of you."

Masa tore her eyes from him, stepping back. "I am getting soft. Not fearing for your life every moment is nice, but it tends to make you weak," she muttered.

"We both are," he agreed and returned to pulling the cart. "If we keep stopping like this it is going to take us forever to return."

"I like this side of you, too. Why did you stay hidden for so long?" she said.

"Same as you. Out of fear."

Not wanting to travel further down that line of thinking, she changed the subject, "I can't believe they didn't have the same problems with violence," Masa muttered.

"They did. I've spoken to some of the local cops and they told me about it. While Laredo and San Antonio were not hit, they had problems with looters but stabilized faster. Their police forces helped keep the violence down."

"Do you miss working for the police?" Masa asked.

"Sometimes. It was always a fight with the cartels."

"You could rejoin them here," she suggested.

He smiled at her, "No. I'm loyal to the Monterrey Group and that's where I'll stay."

"I thought you said you were going to move on."

"Not anymore."

Beside Masa, Arion stopped pulling their handcart and stretched his back just outside one of the larger food stalls. The merchant inside was richly dressed and clean-shaven. “We need to be quick,” Arion muttered, staring grimly at the hurricane lanterns being lit along the street. “It’s getting late.”

Masa nodded in silence, still feeling defeated by the mounting problems they were facing. Without functioning vehicles, it was a six-day walk to San Antonio which was out of the question without supplies for the rest of the Monterrey group. The little scavenged from the bridge had helped them set up north of the city but were not enough for the Monterrey group to reach San Antonio.

“I just wish it didn’t take so long to build up supplies for the journey north,” she muttered. And that was if she could convince the new council to move north. Many of the women in their group were well into their second trimester and were not inclined to leave the area now they were safe.

“I know you’re worried about finding Leron,” Arion said, taking her in his arms. Masa tried to back away, but he held her firmly and continued, “Masa, I will take you north. I have supplies set aside for just the two of us to make the journey.” The man who had said such awful things to her had changed a great deal and appeared perfectly happy to just be beside her and be her friend. Whatever had taken place between him and Leron had changed him. He no longer barked orders or spoke angrily to the women. Instead, he spent a great deal of time reading when he wasn’t helping her get supplies.

"Thanks," she managed, torn between wanting physical comfort and loyalty to Leron. At night, she dreamed of Leron, longing to feel his presence beside her. Finding where they had taken him seemed a hopeless task. He could be anywhere in the month since they had crossed the International Bridge. Perhaps that was why Arion was taking such an interest in her again. She pulled away, "I thought you said you were loyal to the Monterey group."

"I am, but you come before that," Arion said, leaving her behind in the street filled with a confused mess of emotions. Why was he doing this to her?

Masa followed and listened as he began speaking to the merchant in fluent English. She recognized every fifth word, but the meaning of the conversation was still lost on her. With Arion’s lessons on the road, she was learning more words, but it was slow and English did not come naturally to her. Those words she did know, came out unfamiliar; each one carefully translated in her mind. You need to start thinking in English and it will flow better, Arion’s words echoed in her mind, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure. He returned and along with several men began loading two large crates of wheat berries into the back of the cart. Various jars of fruit and more were wedged in the gaps between them.

Arion paid the merchant who grinned, revealing that even wealth couldn’t protect you from gum disease. Most of the man’s teeth were tarnished and missing. Masa shivered and looked away, watching the thinning crowd on the street. The merchants at the other stalls were beginning to pack up and disappear into their homes and wagons. Even the music had stopped, giving the street an eerie feel. Poorly dressed women replaced them, gazing at the men on the street from the corner of their eyes.

“Let’s get out of here,” Arion said nervously, picking up the handles of the cart.

“Agreed,” Masa said. She went to the back of the cart and pushed from the back to help move it forward. It squealed as the rusty bicycle wheels shook down the street.

“What I would give for a car,” Arion groaned, fresh sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Or toothpaste?” Masa asked.

Arion laughed, “Yeah, toothpaste too.”

Together, they took turns listing all the things they missed. It made their situation a little less nerve-racking. Gunfights didn't break out in the street, but thieves were about and with the many refugees, a cartel could easily slip in and start a fight.

When they reached the highway, it was dark. By then, the two of them had fallen into silence, focusing only on keeping the cart moving. At the edge of the onramp, a hooded figure leaned against the concrete barrier. The cart stopped.

“Stay back,” Arion ordered. “This could be trouble.”

“Seriously?” Masa demanded.

“Fine. I’ll pull the cart and you defend,” he yielded, “Keep your hand on your pistol.” The cart moved from beneath her hands and continued forward. Masa ran and walked in step with Arion as he struggled up the ramp. The figure stepped out, pulling her hood down.

“Masa, it’s me,” said her mother.

Masa froze, her eyes going wide. Her hands shook on the pistol grip as she backed away from the woman she had not seen in years. “How are you even here?” she managed, stumbling over her words. Her anger rose, bubbling within her until it boiled over. “You left!” she yelled, pulling her pistol and aiming it.

“Stand down, Masa,” growled Arion, dropping the handcart and touching the top of her handgun. “She poses no threat.”

“Correct,” said Masa’s mother, pushing back the skirt of her cloak to show the lack of weapons at her waist. She turned, showing her back and the rags she wore beneath the robe. The grey hair resting on her shoulders was a match to Masa's dark brown though age had long since turned it. Unfamiliar wrinkles and crow's feet crossed her mother's skin. The worry line at the corner of her mouth spoke volumes.

“How are you even here?” Masa demanded, putting her pistol away in the harness at her waist. Her heart ached and a part of her longed to run to the woman and embrace her. She fought back the tears trying to creep out of her eyes and walled them behind her calm exterior.

“You will never make camp by midnight. There are bandits ahead,” her mother said, ignoring her questions. With a sense of urgency, she walked back down the ramp and turned, “Follow me and I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Masa met Arion’s gaze and he frowned, before facing her mother and nodding. He turned the cart and moved back down the ramp.

“This way,” said her mother, leading them away from the ramp and through a series of alleyways between abandoned buildings. “Before I answer your questions, what did your father tell you?” she demanded.

“That you left.”

Her mother burst into laughter, “Well, he would. He was never in his right mind. Always searching the sky for aliens and on his HAM radio. Oh, and everything was always the government’s fault. Never his own.”

Masa stared at her mother’s back, unable to respond. Her mind was racing with questions. How had her mother even found her? Why now? Was there more to everything she had always believed her entire life? The woman had spoken enough truth, but she recognized that in a broken relationship, the truth rarely made itself known. How much of what her father had told her was also a lie? Arion had concealed his own feelings in his rage. People would do anything if they were upset or desperate enough.

“How did you find Masa?” Arion demanded, stopping in the middle of the alleyway, “Your daughter asked you a question.” His frown transformed into a scowl, “How do I know you are not leading us into an ambush?"

“You don’t, but I would never harm my little girl. No mother would.” Her mother smiled before continuing, “I heard a group had crossed the bridge from Monterrey so I sought you out against the odds of either of you being with them. Your father stole you away. He was always talking about the freedom Americans had in Monterrey, but every time I journeyed there, we were never able to track you down.”

“I had no idea,” Masa muttered. “I….I remember you leaving….”

“I stormed out after arguing with your father,” she explained, “When I came back, you were gone. I’ve…I’ve spent all this time searching. When I found where you were camped, I was so excited. I almost ran in, but you have guards posted. I watched and waited, following you in and out of town and waiting for the right opportunity.”

“But father would never have done that,” Masa argued, “He said he cared about you and spoke of the awful things you said.”

“A likely story. It was all his fault,” her mother snapped, glancing back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She whimpered, stumbling towards the wall of one of the buildings and resting her hand against it for support. “I have lived in Laredo, making journeys to Monterrey. When the bombs fell, I thought you were both dead.” Her mother left the wall and rushed toward her, burying her head in her shoulder, and clutching Masa tightly against her. It was hard to breathe, but the emotions building up inside her were becoming unbearable. Her internal wall broke and tears followed.

Arion groaned, “Would you two get it together?”

Masa pulled away and nodded. Her mother led them into a building and lit several candles before disappearing into a side room. Masa walked around, staring at the building filled with old cars, and motorcycles. A set of overalls hung from a wall with her mother’s name, Marie Manchega displayed across the breast. Her mother was a mechanic? There was so much she didn’t know.

“What do you think?” she asked Arion.

“I’m not sure what to think,” Arion responded, “I’m not sure this was such a good….”

“I’ve brought some food,” her mother said, reappearing at the door and cutting Arion off. Arion scowled at her and sighed, before following the older woman to a table.

“You’re a mechanic?” Masa asked, joining them.

Her mother nodded, picking at the bread roll on her plate. “Yes. I set up down here so I could be close to the border.” She fell silent, picking up her spoon and stirring her beans, before glancing up, "Are you two together? You always seem to be with each other.”

“No.” Masa and Arion said in unison. Filled with anger, Masa shot daggers at Arion, and he looked away, appearing embarrassed.

Her mother shrugged and continued to eat, “I was just wondering. A mother likes to know these things.”

“She’s with a man called Leron,” Arion spat, before falling silent.

Smiling, her mother began to press Masa about Leron and Masa gave in and awkwardly began to describe him. Her mother listened eagerly, hanging on her every word. From the corner of her eye, Masa saw the look of hopelessness displayed across Arion’s hunched shoulders and immediately felt guilty. He had pretended not to care in the Cantina in Nuevo Laredo, but it was all a lie. A dig to get back at her from the pain he felt at her betrayal. The same thing her father had done to her mother.

Arion continued picking at his meal, but he ate little. He must have sensed Masa’s gaze, because he looked up and smiled warmly, before facing her mother. He cleared his throat, “Why did all the vehicles stop working right after we arrived? We were trying to find transport further north.”

“Fuel breaks down,” explained her mother, “Your arrival was about four or five months after the bombs dropped. It was about then that it would be unusable.”

“Then how did Leron and the others manage to make it to San Antonio?” Arion asked.

“They must have been running an alternative fuel source. I’m working on one myself,” her mother said, grinning from ear to ear. “The farmers want to get their vehicles up and running again. Not being able to sell in the San Antonio market is becoming a pain. I would be happy to teach you and we could get a vehicle up and running, and go find your friend.”

When dinner was over, her mother produced several bottles of hooch and they drank, discussing the world that was. Once drunk, her mother stumbled off to a small bed in the corner of the room and proceeded to pass out. Snores filled the air, leaving Masa alone at the table with Arion.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked, staring at her.