“Good night,” her mother said. Vaga watched her back away from her bedrack hanging from the prefab wall. Dressed in a simple gray, raddon dress with her long, brown hair pulled back in a tail, her mother’s face had a warmth and softness that made her feel safe and loved. Standing in the doorway, her father held his wide field hat in his hands. His boots dirty, he appeared worn out, yet a smile cut through his face when he looked at her.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “You can help me plant yecaron.”
“And you can help me harvest the woodberries,” her mother said. “For pie.”
Vaga smiled and turned over in her bedrack. More like a shelf than bed, it hung from the wall by chain links. Opposite the door, a large circular window of thick laminate showed the full yellowed moon hovering over the countryside. She hadn’t made up her mind yet if she liked this place yet. Everything seemed to be hard. They grew their own food, bartered with other colonists for tools, and when a new prefab went up, the entire village showed up to lend a hand – and everyone prepared a massive feast for the newcomers.
Deep inside her, she missed the ionbikes, wingpods and channel cars of the big cities, but most of all she missed the lights. Back on Hesmucet, the cities came alive each night – every building and street lit up like the heavens. People of every species mingled among the streets. And the shows they’d go to see. Amazing. When her father said they had to leave, she was heartbroken. It was home. But better alive on a backwater planet, then drained dry by the Nerge.
Vaga rolled over and hugged her blanket, a circle of moonlight showing on her wall. A loud thump sat her up in bed. A quick scan of the room showed nothing had changed. The circle of moonlight still spread against the wall. Climbing out of the bedrack, Vaga stepped into the center of her room, where a brisk breeze rustled in. Quickly she stepped to the window but stubbed her toe on something. When she looked down, she saw a great circle of laminate on the floor – the laminate from her prefab window!
“Sweetheart,” her mother called from the hall. “Is everything all right?”
Before Vaga could scream, she saw two massive arms reaching into the gaping hole that used to be her window. They snatched her up and as she flew backward through the hole, she screamed, “Help me!”
Falling, she hit her head on the ground and everything went fuzzy. She knew only a few things, something was dragging her off through the reedgrass and her father and mother were running after her – her father launching shot after shot toward her attacker with his plasma rifle. Then her eyes closed to blackness.
* * *
Would you take her in the back and get her cleaned up?! We have fifteen minutes before arrival and I don’t want to wait for some narcaleptic stowaway.
Morigin’s words rang distant to her ears – almost dream-like. A forceful grip came to her arms as she was hauled up from the floor, her