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Fighting Chance Sharon Lee and Steve Miller Reprinted from Women of War, DAW, July 2005 Copyright 2005 by Sharon Lee and Steve Miller "TRY IT NOW," Miri called, and folded her arms over her eyes. There was a couple seconds of nothing more than the crunchy sound of shoes against gritty floor, which would be Penn moving over to get at the switch. "Trying it now," he yelled, which was more warning than his dad was used to giving. There was an ominous sizzle, and a mechanical moan as the fans started in to work -- picking up speed until they was humming fit to beat and nor yet there hadn't been a flare-out. Miri lowered her arms carefully and squinted up into the workings. The damn' splice was gonna hold this time. For awhile, anyhow. "Pressure's heading for normal," Penn shouted over the building racket. "Come on outta there, Miri." "Just gotta close up," she shouted back, and wrestled the hatch up, holding it with a knee while she used both hands to seat the locking pin. That done, she rolled out. A grubby hand intersected her line of vision. Frowning, she looked up into Penn's wary, spectacled face, and relaxed. Penn was OK, she reminded herself, and took the offered assist. Once on her feet, she dropped his hand, and Penn took a step back, glasses flashing as he looked at the lift-bike. "Guess that's it 'til the next time," he said. Miri shrugged. The 'bike belonged to Jerim Snarth, who'd got it off a guy who worked at the spaceport, who'd got it from -- don't ask don't tell. Miri's guess was that the 'bike's original owner had gotten fed up with it breaking down every third use and left it on a scrap pile. On the other hand, Jerim was good for the repair money, most of the time, which meant Penn's dad paid Miri on time, so she supposed she oughta hope for more breakdowns. "Must've wrapped every wire in that thing two or three times by now," she said to Penn, and walked over to the diagnostics board. Pressure and speed had come up to spec and were standing steady. "My dad said let it run a quarter-hour and chart the pressures." Miri nodded, saw that Penn'd already set the timer and turned around. "What's to do next?" she asked. Penn shrugged his shoulders. "The 'bike was everything on the schedule," he said, sounding apologetic. "Me, I'm supposed to get the place swept up." Miri sighed to herself. "Nothing on tomorrow, either?" "I don't think so," Penn muttered, feeling bad about it, though it wasn't no doing of his -- nor his dad's either. Though some extra pay would've been welcome. Extra pay was always welcome. "I'll move on down to Trey's, then," she said, going over to the wall where the heavy wool shirt that served as her coat hung on a nail next to Penn's jacket. "See if there's anything needs done there." She had to stretch high on her toes to reach her shirt -- damn' nails were set too high. Or she was set too low, more like it. Sighing, she pulled the shirt on and did up the buttons. If Trey didn't have anything -- and it was likely he wouldn't -- then she'd walk over to Dorik's bake shop. Dorik always needed small work done -- trouble was, she only ever paid in goods, and it was money Miri was particularly interested in. She turned 'round. Penn was already unlimbering the broom, moving stiff. Took a hiding, she guessed. Penn got some grief on the street -- for the glasses, and for because of being so good with his figures and his reading and such -- which he had to be, his dad owning a mechanical repair shop and Penn expected to help out with the work, when there was work. Hell, even her father could read, and figure, too, though he was more likely to be doing the hiding than taking it. "Seen your dad lately?" Penn asked, like he'd heard her thinking. He looked over his shoulder, glasses glinting. "My dad's got the port wanting somebody for a cargo crane repair, and your dad's the best there is for that." If he could be found, if he was sober when found, if he could be sobered up before the customer got impatient and went with second best... Miri shook her head. "Ain't seen him since last month," she told Penn, and deliberately didn't add anything more. "Well," he said after a second. "If you see him..." "I'll let him know," she said, and raised a hand. "See you." "Right." Penn turned back to the broom, and Miri moved toward the hatch that gave out onto the alley. Yes I want to order a single copy of Allies in advance for just $10!
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