Theia Duology

Chapter 4

The moist air clings to Theia in the afternoon heat. The sky such a clear, bright blue that she has to squint as she looks up at Solskine. She blinks the black spots away to keep an eye on him, so he won't disappear like Mistura did. She'd save him like she couldn't Mistura, because even though she'd still be surrounded by the other annies in the cadoyard, Theia would die of loneliness without him.

Solskine has his head stuck in the tree's branches, his shoulders hunched up to his ears. As he reaches for another avo, his arms look smooth to the touch with hair yellow as the star flowers in avo trees that turn to fruit. Theia looks down at her own arms, the tanned skin thick from rat and spider bites.

During the day, Tenebris and his crew or Malum herself watch over the pickers and killers working in the cadoyard. The cadoyard is supposed to be quiet with no one talking, but full of activity.

"Theia, you think we had siblings?" Solskine asks, his head still hidden by the leaves of the cadotree. "Like in those books Malum used to read us?"

Malum sits at the end of their row; seems to want to watch Theia personally. Theia pretends to sneeze into her hand, covering her mouth. "Yaaas! Not askin' Malum though. If they aren't here, then they died like our parents."

"Tenebris and Mistura are dope." Solskine hands down a few avos to Theia. "Were dope. I still can't even. She was here and now she's gone."

"Gone, but not forgotten." Theia bites her lip, wants to tell him, but not here, not like this. She first needs to figure the best possibility for escape, and then she'll tell Solskine about Mistura. Tell Tenebris too. Theia also knows it's not just the telling, it's the believing. Her word against their Matta's. Her belief that they can survive the Beyond against Matta's insistence that they won't.

Theia says, "If we were babies when the black mold came, then Mistura and Tenebris were two, maybe old enough to 'member somethin' 'bout where they came from. Where we all came from."

"Don't you dare ask him," Solskine says. "He's Matta's assistant."

"Nah, he's just older, gets to do more'n pick and kill." Theia wipes the sweaty bangs from her forehead, smearing dirt.

Solskine sits on the top of his ladder staring down. "Yeah, I bet. Malum's thirsty for him."

"You jellie? He's pretty crunk."

"He's a thot. Could make Matta like me if I had to." Solskine shakes his blond hair and grins. "Got a little somethin'." He points to the dirt on Theia's face.

Solskine could even make the rats and spiders like him. Sluice does. She's one row over, but keeps peeking around the tree branch to make sure Solskine is still there, as if Theia would let him go anywhere. Theia picks up an avo from the basket and tosses it from her right to her left hand. Squeezes the rough skin and the softer flesh gives way under her fingers until the firm resistance of the pit at its core. She'd love to throw a hard dragon fruit at Sluice's head this time. That'd snap her out of it.

Malum climbs down from her white towering chair to the ground and strides down the row towards Theia.

"Quit the chit chat, annies. We have to get as many avocados picked before the storm comes," Malum says. "Even a killer like you, Theia, wouldn't do well left out in the elements." She stoops to check the basket at Theia's feet. Half full with Solskine's efforts, but Malum would say it's half empty.

Sluice almost loses her balance as she peers around the tree. Her partner, Drengur, holds tight to the wobbling ladder. "Sluice, you're cray if you think I'm catchin' ya. Ya know what happens when ya fall. Ya die like Mistura."