Manzanita, the Apple Farming City

The sky is still dark. Deep purples and blues paint the rolling orchards. The hoverbike occasionally bumps from a stone in the path as they ride downhill.

It’s a relaxed incline. Any turbulence feels like a rhythmic lullaby. Past the vast sea of trees is Manzanita, a town that grew from Earthling’s first attempt at apple farming on Nue and, with its success, it had developed into a sprawling city.

Despite its size, Manzanita has maintained an atmosphere of quaintness, its cobblestone streets winding up the earth’s steep rises and shallow gullies. Old-timey homes and shops line each road. Among them, a single building catches Mint’s eye.

Atop one of the highest points sits a refined edifice. It’s wide and tall, at least four stories, and its architectural style is a unique blend of baronial and rococo.

While Asa could probably go on about the usage of Earth’s historical architecture on Nue and the meaning it invokes, Mint only has one word for it: Fancy.

Or maybe two, if you count pretty. That must be the school Asa told him about. Saint Mary Liberal Arts Academy. He recalls. There’s probably a lot of girls there…

ꕤ

Mint sits on their hotel room’s cushy bed, lost in thought as Asa unpacks. He still feels like he’s being babied. Asa’s always reassuring him and never asks for help, besides minor stuff. He’s more of a guest than a healer, and Asa’s the gracious host. Is it because he’s a kid?

He supposes it’s normal for adults to take care of children, but it feels humiliating to be coddled so much. Asa only says good things about me, so I can’t tell what he’s actually thinking. He pauses. Is this normal to feel? I don’t think I should be feeling bad about someone showing me kindness. Aren’t I being ungrateful? After rummaging for a few minutes, all Asa ends up unpacking is Mimo, who he places on the table near the door.

“I’m going to have to leave you here for a bit to go get some food. We’re running pretty low.” He says. He sits him upright with the tablet stand on his case and presses the power button.

Mimo’s screen flickers on and he opens his eyes. They’re only half-lidded and a vector of drool dribbles from his mouth. “If you get lonely while you wait, you can converse with Mimo. Right, Mimo?”

His little brows furrow in agitation. “Don’t just turn me on and then tell me to pick up your conversation! I don’t even know what you were talking about…”

“Ha, sorry. I’m just going to get some food.” Says Asa. “If Mimo’s too grouchy, you can always watch TV.”

“I’m not grouchy…” Mimo says, pouting. Asa puts his mouth by Mint’s ear and whispers. “I’m going to leave most of my money and stuff here with you. Don’t let anyone in.”

Asa pulls away and stands, looking Mint in the eyes with a smile. “I trust you.”

With those simple words, his worries fade away. Maybe he does see him as someone he can rely on. “Okay. I’ll handle it!”

Asa grabs the door handle. “Don’t get too anxious. I’ll be right back.”

“When?”

“Maybe 30 minutes, tops. Seeya!” The door clicks shut. Mint takes a few deep breaths. What are you doing getting nervous already? You’re not much of an equal if you can’t be alone for a little bit.

Mint steels himself and takes a few more deep breaths. If he’s going to be a good partner, he’ll need to find ways to keep his mind from spiralling into anxiety. He looks at Mimo with a determined face. “Mimo, you got any games?”

“Huh?” Mimo replies, a virtual snot bubble popping.

☼

Asa’s weathered boots stomp the cobblestone. Birds chirp and the early morning sun shines just over the horizon. The city streets gracefully wind down the hillside, making the houses appear to be stacked on each other. He stops and takes a deep breath.

Mint may be waiting for him, but admiring the view for a second won’t hurt anything. The smell of fresh dew is in the air and a cool breeze brushes his bare skin. A scene this picturesque would be a shame to waste. His eyes trace the road below, past the barrier and on the ridge about 10 or 20 feet under the one he stands on.

A schoolgirl wearing a green blazer and pleated skirt strolls leisurely down the path, quite a distance away. Her blonde hair is tied into thick braids with pink ribbons laced through them. It matches her uniform’s bowtie. Large, round glasses sit upon her nose. Her presence only enhances the whimsical atmosphere. He looks in the direction she’s walking in and sees the academy in the distance.

She must be a student there. A white magnolia petal glides lazily in the wind, floating right in front of his face. He holds a hand out and waits. It lands in his palm gracefully. The petal’s delicate beauty stirs him. He wants to hold onto a piece of this moment.

He opens his thigh pouch and tips his hand at its entrance, letting the petal flutter inside. As he moves to button the pouch, something presses into his side, hard. Two metal prongs bite into his flesh and a white hot pain shoots through his body. His muscles jerk involuntarily, spilling the contents of the pouch as the peaceful breeze morphs into a howling gust.

His wallet clatters to the ground. The magnolia petal whips through the air, harshly blown away. The Key bounces off the brick ledge, rebounding through the air then tumbling down a clay shingled roof with a tink, tink, tink. It hits the cobblestone and after a few more bounces, it slides to a stop. Asa’s muscles clench as hard as he’s felt in his entire life, cramping agonizingly.

He can’t move, can’t even breathe. As much as he wants to turn around and see who’s doing this to him, his head won’t budge. It’s probably a stun gun, but its amperage is way too high. There’s no way it’s legal. He could die. All he can do is stare forward helplessly as the schoolgirl approaches the Key.

She kneels down and picks it up, adjusting her glasses as she examines it with curious eyes. An intrigued smile comes to her face. Asa’s vision goes black. He doesn’t feel the dark, brawny arms that catch him. With the current released, he gasps for breath. For a reason she doesn’t know, the girl’s eyes are drawn to a magnolia petal caught on the side of her shoe.

She looks up at the ledge above her. There’s no one there.

☼

Mint perches on the foot of the bed, facing Mimo. Two hands of cards are on his screen, one for player 1 and the other for player 2.

Player 2’s hand has two cards, a seven of spades and a donkey. Player 1 only has a single card, which is reverse side up. Both hands have pairs of matched cards sitting in front of them. Mimo’s face is squished to the top of the screen, shrunk to a tiny size. “Hmm…” He hums, an arrow blinking over Mint’s cards.

As the arrow hovers over the donkey, Mint looks relieved. It moves to the seven of spades. Mint looks worried. It shifts back and forth between the two cards. Donkey, happy. seven of spades, anxious.

Donkey, smile. Spades, frown. Donkey. Spades. Donkey. Spades. Smile. Frown. Smile. Frown. “Hmmmmmmmm…” Mimo hums again, concentrating hard.

He moves the arrow over the seven of spades, and keeps it there. Mint’s worried expression deepens. The card lights up as he selects it and it joins his hand. Mint’s face crumbles. Mimo puts down a match of two sevens of spades. All Mint has left is a donkey. “I win! I win!” Cheers Mimo.

Mint pouts. “Are you sure you’re not cheating? The program’s literally being run on your body. Couldn’t you just peek at my hand any time you want?”

“I can’t. The old maid program blinds me to the cards in your hand. I’m winning fair and square.” His eyes close as he smiles triumphantly.

“Mm… Fine. Let’s play again. I’m gonna win this time!”

“We’ll see about that!” Says the elated Mimo.

☼

Asa’s wrists are cuffed to a chain. He dangles from the ceiling by his arms. Scratches marr his skin. A red bruise stains his face, twisted in discomfort. The room is dim and cold.

Boxes line the walls, piled on top of each other. Wire shelves are stocked with plastic totes, empty spray bottles, and kitchen appliances. Light shines through an open door leading to a hallway. Asa’s feet barely touch the concrete and he has to strain on his tiptoes. The contents of his pouch have been emptied, scattered across the smooth stone.

His knife lies with them, a good ten feet out of his reach. “I’ll ask again. Where is it?” Says a hulking man in black. He has a ginger buzz cut and an eyebrow scar. There’s another large man sitting in a folding chair.

His face is just as worn, but his eyes are a touch softer. A hardened resignation contrasts the other’s anger. His face seems sad, but it’s hard to tell whether that’s caused by his facial features or a genuine sadness. Asa keeps his eyes closed. The scarred man’s eyebrow twitches.

He pulls Asa’s head back by his hair. His eyes jolt open. “Look at me. Where’d you take it? It’s not with your stuff, so where’ve you hidden it?!”

He closes his eyes indignantly. “I don’t know.”

The man punches his stomach and knocks the air out of his lungs. He gags. “Quit bullshitting me. Where is it?” The man hisses into his face.

“I don’t know.” Asa wheezes. “I’m just a tourist.”

A knee bashes his ribs. He slumps over. “I’m getting sick of this shit! Just talk already! I want this over with!” He takes a step back and grabs something from his hip.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll make you.” Asa hears a familiar buzzing. He’s holding a stun gun, probably the same one that knocked him out. It’s… odd.

It’s composed of atypical materials and parts of it are cobbled together, like it was modified by a hobbyist or created entirely within someone’s home. This device isn’t regulated.

There’s no telling what its output is, or if it’s even consistent. He was lucky to survive last time. Asa’s body goes rigid and he breaks out into a cold sweat. He stares helplessly at the crackling electricity as the man gets closer. A dark grin stretches across his features. A hand suddenly grabs his wrist.

“Stop.” Says his partner. “You almost killed him the last time. We need him alive or we won’t be able to find our target.”

“How about we take a break for now? We can resume this later.” He reasons.

The scarred man shoots Asa a dirty look, then sheaths the taser. “We tracked him all the way here, did all that fucking walking, waiting for the perfect moment, and when we catch him? He doesn’t even have the thing! I’m fucking tired!”

“I know, I know. Let’s just go in the other room and sit for a bit, okay? I’m tired, too. It’s been a long journey.”

The men give each other a look. The scarred man exhales and walks into the lit hallway, stretching his shoulders. “This job’s been hell.”

“I know. Let’s just take a seat…” Rubber pads squeak as they scrape the tile. A few metallic clinks come from clothing and holstered weapons hitting the seat of a folding chair. He breathes a sigh of his own, then a troubled expression comes to his face.

No matter what, I can’t get that girl involved. I’ll have to escape, then get the Key from her as discreetly as possible. She’ll be in danger as long as she has it.