Scavengers

DATE: Year 322-B. Sol 346

LOCATION: Windhuk School Hub

The air in the supply hub felt stale, dry. It was recycled like everything else.

Clara knelt on the floor, her charcoal fatigues already stained with the fine dust that seemed to seep through the very welds of the station.

She was unboxing a stack of physical slates, low-power, ruggedized E-ink displays that the West Mars Republic favored for isolated settlements. They weren't elegant, but they could survive a decompression event better than a human could.

-You don’t have to do that yourself, Teacher.

Clara looked up. Juyiet stood at the door. She had hard angles and tired eyes, her hair pulled back in a severe bun that revealed the gray at her temples. Wrapped around her right wrist was the scavenger’s rosary Clara had noticed the day before, ten heavy industrial washers and a jagged brass nut for the crucifix, all strung on a piece of frayed copper wiring.

-I like the work, Clara said, standing up and wiping her hands on her thighs. It helps me map the space. You can call me Clara.

Juyiet entered the room, followed by three women in heavy, dark blue habits that looked like industrial coveralls. The Ursulines of Windhuk. Clara had started studying the different orders after her experience crossing Mars with the help of the Trappists as a child.

They’d helped her get off the planet and finally reunite with her brother on Venus, via Jupiter. When she’d arrived on Venus, she never thought she’d Mars again, but the man who was responsible for putting her brother on Venus eventually arranged passage for her and her brother back to Mars so that she could continue her education and her brother could get one for the first time.

She even ended up spending a semester in her later studies working with a group of Trappist monks and taking their vows of silence.

The Ursuline order had helped bring some kind of public education to children across Mars and even off planet wherever they could maintain a presence.

-The sisters are ready to begin the inventory, Juyiet said, gesturing to the women.

The sisters bowed their heads slightly while scanning the crates of WMR supplies with the practiced efficiency of salvage experts.

-We have cleared the primary storage racks in the back, the tallest sister said. Our physical texts are ready for integration, though many are missing pages from the Year 280-B humidity spike.

-We’ll make it work, Clara promised. I have digital backups of most of the standard curriculum. We can prioritize the technical repair manuals first. That’s usually what the parents want most.

-The parents want their children to have a life that isn’t measured in beats and quotas, Juyiet said quietly.

She reached down to help Clara with a crate of physical books. As she moved, the washers of her rosary clacked together..

-Is that what they teach you at the Academy? Juyiet asked, looking at the bundle of books Clara had carried from the shuttle. How to make a home?

She watched Juyiet’s hands. They were calloused, the fingernails permanently stained with grease.

-My brother, Clarence, he used to say that machines have souls, Clara said quietly. He was always good with tools. His first friend was a robot that helped him talk. We were separated from our parents in a biomass raid.

Juyiet paused, her hand hovering over a book on structural engineering.

-I’m sorry, she said. That’s why we’re here, she said, thinking of her husband Eni and their child, still unnamed.

She paused, embarrassed to have said something, like she was better.

-It’s ok, Clara said, taking Juyiet’s hand. Go on.

-Eni’s brother had a hab unit here, Juyiet explained. We were on Deimos, Eni did courier work. When I got pregnant, his brother said we had to come settle here. He thought it was too dangerous, up there, she said, rolling her eyes upward.

-It’s good you’re here, Clara said. It’s good I’m here.

-I’m glad you’re here, Clara, Juyiet said, using her name for the first time. My little one will be in your first intake. We haven’t had a centralized school since the Duke was a young man. There’s finally enough children again.

-Where is the Duke? Clara asked, looking around the hub. He seemed very invested in the school yesterday.

-He departed on the 16:00 shuttle, one of the sisters said, not looking up from her inventory slate. The High Command called him back to Timbuktu. We are in the Auditor’s hands now.

Clara looked at the door. She turned back to the crates, a sense of urgency in her chest.

-We’d better get these slates charged, Clara said. We have a lot of work to do before the next shift starts.