Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Blue Lightening ❯ Sweepers ( Chapter 3 )

AC 180

“If anyone does anything that worries ya, tell Mickey.”

“Who's dat?”

“The big guy behind the bar.”

“Kay.”

Solo was worried sick. The kid - Kitten, as he was now called - had been helping out backstage for a few weeks, but now Scar had decided that some extra servers for the dancers who dropped out to refresh themselves were needed. So Kid, along with two others, was working tables tonight.

“Solo?”

“Mmm?”

“Wha' will ya be doin'?”

“Uh… I fink I'm dancin' t'night.”

“Kay.”

“Don' ferget to call me Wolf.”

“Kay. Don' fret, I'll be fine.”

“Believe that when I see it.”

Kitten giggled, and elbowed him in the side. “'Sides, ya said that this week we got `nuff credits to fix up that lair.”

“Yeah.”

“Fink we c'n get some power cells ta cook on?”

“Mebbe once we're fixed up. Make sure ta keep ya tips safe.”

“Kay.”

 

That evening was sheer torture for Solo. Every time he went on stage his eyes searched out Kid in the crowd. The newly named `Kitten' seemed happy enough, almost skipping from table to table. He was glad to see that Mickey had him behind the bar sipping on a glass of water when he wasn't needed. Kitten's brown hair was freshly washed and glinted bronze and gold in the lights of the club. He was forever playing with it, amazed at the feel of clean hair.

They slipped out together in the early hours of the morning, retreating to the fire-gutted building for the first time. They had stashed some papers and boxes in a dry corner that evening, and set up a few noisy traps at the bottom of the old fire escape - easily avoided by climbing onto a dumpster and walking along a wall to the second flight of steps.

“Quiet now,” Solo whispered as they negotiated the maze of boards they had laid over the rafters, not trusting the original flooring.

“I knows.”

The den was reached without incident, and they curled up together in the nest of dry paper. Kid tucked himself into Solo's arms, snuggling into his warmth.

“Sweet dreams,” Solo whispered into the darkness. His only answer was a sleepy mumble as Kid dozed off.

 

Solo woke to the familiar hum of the solar panels turning, and tapped Kid lightly on the shoulder.

“Wakey wakey. We's goin' shoppin'.”

Kid yawned, granting Solo with a face full of morning breath. “Wha' for?”

“Fer a big plastic bin ter catch rain in.”

“Cool!”

“An we'll poke around da junk shops, mebbe get some cloth fer a blanket.”

“Kay.”

Kid uncurled himself and stretched. He wasn't as thin as he had been, since they could now get food almost every day. He was a far cry from the thin, straggly creature Solo had first found gagging on moldy bread in an alley. Solo had just managed to snatch an entire loaf, so decided to share his wealth, and so gain another body to guard his possessions while he was away from them. True, there wasn't a lot, but it was hard to steal food if you were already lugging an armful of apples or oranges.

Besides, Kid had the most unusual purple eyes. Just like his own.

The two orphans crept out of their lair, straightening ragged clothing as they did so. Their section of L2 was humming into life. Solo knew that some people followed the evening around the colony, stopping to rest only when the entire colony was in daylight. Those were the kind of people he tried to avoid.

“Solo?”

“Hmm?”

“Where's we goin'?”

“Ter find a sweepers yard.”

“Whassat?”

“A big place full o'junk. Sweepers do ya fair prices. C'mon, it's a few blocks this way.”

They darted their way through the early traffic, crossing and re-crossing the road `just in case'. There weren't too many people out yet, but enough that they needed to dodge. No-one gave way for a streetrat.

“This is it.”

“Cool!”

Kid's eyes were wide with amazement. It was an impressive sight. Towers of scrap loomed, casting half the street into shadow. Bathtubs, rusted cars, piping, scrap metal and even pieces of MS were stacked together in some order that Solo couldn't quite figure. He was pretty sure that there was method to be found in the madness, however, as this was a sweeper yard.

There were several men moving purposefully about, and a guard on the gate. The guard sat up straighter as they approached and held up a hand. “Hey, there, sorry, but I'm gonna have to ask you to go no further.”

Solo moved closer to his little booth. “But we wanna buy something.”

The guard raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“A big tub ta catch da rain in,” Kid piped up. Solo noticed the guard's eyes soften as he looked at the hopeful expression on Kid's face.

“A big tub, huh? Well, I guess we've got a fair few of those around. Tell ya what, I'll get you a guide through the yards, to help you find what ya lookin' for.”

“Thanks, man,” Solo said gratefully. The guard nodded, and hit a blue button. Soon, another worker came over.

“What's up, old man? These two bothering you?”

“Shh up, you pest. These two want to buy something.”

“Buy?”

“We've got credits,” Solo growled, offended by the incredulous look on the guard's face.

“Tis ok, youngun, I'll deal with him,” the guard said reassuringly. “You two go wait just over there, on the other side of the gate.”

“Kay. Mister, can't you show us round?” Kid asked.

The guard smiled. “I'll see if I can get this pest here to take my place for ten minutes. Now, run along.”

Solo grabbed Kid's warm hand and pulled him over to where the gate guard had indicated. They watched the two Sweepers talking, with much gesturing, but no raised voices. The guard seemed to win, as the younger man's shoulders slumped, and he climbed into the guard's seat. The guard walked over to them, smiling.

“Ok. Now, a big tub.”

“Yeah.”

“Bath sized? Metal or plastic?”

“I need ta be able to carry it.”

“Plastic then.”

“Be nice ifn we could wash in it, Solo.”

“Yeah, but we gots to drink outta it, Kiddo.”

“I don't see why you don't get two,” the guard suggested.

“Two?”

“Yes, two. One for drinking and the other for washing. Or, one as a storage, and a smaller for washing or drinking, whatever it's needed for.”

“Yay, can we, Solo? I c'n carry it back.”

“I dunno if we'll have the credits. We wanna get a blanket too, remember?”

“Y'know, boys, the prices aren't fixed. You can haggle. An' we have blankets `ere too. Maybe we can find ya one of those too.”

“Cool!”

“Thanks, Mister.”

They were led though the towering piles of scrap. Solo thought that he could probably find his way back if he had to, but he wasn't sure. It was disconcerting. The guard stopped by a pile that seemed to be mostly plastic, and started to sort though it.

“What are you waiting for? There should be something in here that will suit.”

Solo shrugged and starting sorting. Kid was too small to be of much use lifting things, so he stacked the possibilities in a smaller pile to one side.

“Hm, we've found a fair few here. Are any of them ok?”

“The dustbin would be ok, the small green one.”

“Yeah! And this one for washin'.”

“That's a little big, kiddo. I doubt we'd get that much water.”

“Aww, but it's a pretty blue. Like your costume.”

The guard stiffened. “Costume?”

Solo glared. “I dance an' wait tables. I can't do that wearing rags, can I?”

The guard held up his hands. “Sorry. I'm real sorry.”

Kid was blinking up at them in confusion. Solo bent down and gave him a hug. “Don' worry `bout it, Kiddo. Let's pick out another one, kay?”

“Kay. Dat one,” Kid said, pointing to a bucket.

“Ooh, that'll work. Good job. Now, Mister, you said that there was blankets here?”

“This way. Can I ask you somethin'?”

“Sure.”

“How come you talk better to me than you do to him?”

“Street talk is what we know. I talk posh for grown-ups.”

“Ok. We keep the fabric inside, come on in.”

They had approached a long, low white building, with smaller stacks of stuff piled on the roof. The guard was motioning them though a small door. Solo took a deep breath and followed Kid inside. After all, he hadn't tried to kill them yet.

He found himself in a room full of tables, all piled high with folded fabric and baskets of scraps. They seemed to be sorted by wear, rather than by thickness or colour. Although, it seemed like the thickest were to be found at the bottom of the piles.

“Search away, kids.”

“There's so many!” Kid exclaimed, running a grubby finger over a worn towel.

“We're looking for something warm, and fairly big,” Solo told the guard.

“Colour important?”

“Nothing too bright. Grey or brown would be best. Maybe a dark blue or green.”

“I wanna black one!” Kid demanded, sticking his bottom lip out.

“You sure, Kiddo?”

“Yeah, Solo, a black one.”

The guard smiled. “I'll see what I can find. There's plenty of black cloth. Do holes matter?”

“We don't have the credits for something that's too good.”

The guard poked at the piles for a while, then pulled out a black bedcover. “How about this?”

Solo felt the fabric. It was soft, and not all that thick, but doubled over he thought that it would work all right. It looked rather big, they might be able to get three or four layers out of it. “How much?”

They haggled for a while, and settled on a price that was fair, considering the tear in the bed cover and the cracks and chips in the rims of the containers. Solo gave Kid the bucket and placed the cover into the bin, which he hoisted onto his shoulder. The guard waved them out of the gate, before turfing the unfriendly man out of his seat and settling down to guard.

“Solo?”

“Hm?”

“We neva asked `is name.”

“No, we didn'. Neva mind, we might see `im again.”

“Kay.”

“Kid?”

“Yeah?”

“I'd betta start teachin' ya `ow to speak proper, fer when ya work.”

“Aw, Solo, do I `ave ta?”

“Yeah. So, it's `have' not `'ave'.”

“Have.”

“That's it. Now, after me: `May I take your order, please?'”

“May I take ya order, please?”

“Your order.”

“Your order.”

“That's better.”

Kid grinned up at him, swinging the bucket. “Isn't that bin heavy?”

“I'm ok. And well done for saying that proper.”

“S'not too hard. Just slow.”

“We'll make a gentleman of ya yet.”

“Don' wanna be a gentleman.”

They slid into the alleyway as inconspicuously as possible. Solo sent Kid across the fence, then passed up the bin, bucket and blanket before clambering up the side of the dumpster himself. They set everything inside the bin and took a side each as they navigated the rest of the stairs and the boards.

Finally they reached their corner, and Solo placed the bin under the edge of the roof, where it dipped down. He'd noticed the rain pouring off of that corner last time the weather people had turned it on. The bucket was placed on the other side, where there was also a drip, just not as big a one.

Kid was fussing with the bedcover. “What's wrong?” Solo asked, moving over to him.

“Somethin' else in `ere…” Kid muttered.

“What?”

“'S too heavy in that corner.”

Solo stuck his head into the hole at the end, and fished around. He found something balled up, and pulled it out. “Here we go.”

“What is it?”

“Pillowcases,” Solo muttered, shaking them out. “Two.”

“What's a pillow?”

“Don' worry. Here, you can wear this. Where's the knife?”

Kid passed it to him. “Strip off.”

“Wha?”

“Take off ya shirt.”

“Kay.”

Solo carefully ripped a hole in the pillowcase, at the other end to the opening. He shoved it over Kid's head, and carefully pulled his hair through.. “Hold still while I cut spaces for yer arms.”

Kid immediately froze. The knife spilt the old fabric easily, and soon Kid was wearing a new shirt. Solo got to work on the other one for himself.

“Ya think he knew?”

“Hm?”

“Dat guard. Think he knew dat the things were in `ere?”

“What happened to speakin' proper? And I dunno. He was a good man. Mebbe he wanted to help us out.”

“Kay.”

“Come, now, we need to get some food in.”

“We got enough to buy stuff?”

“I can buy bread `n' some tins. See if ya can nick some fruit. Be careful though, no risks! Even if ya come back wiv nuffin, we'll be eatin'. Kay?”

“Kay.”

“Now, let's go.”