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Tobias The Cat: A Short From The Nexus 4 The Ca

Tobias The Cat: A Short From The Nexus - LightNovelsOnl.com

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Tobias hunched over, fighting against a groan. Rosa had said she would develop, and no longer be able to disguise herself as a man. In the five years since Rosa died, nothing much had come of her prediction, save for monthly bleeding and cramps. Her chest was as flat as ever and she was still childishly short.

Tobias straightened, shaking lank locks of muddy brown hair out of her face. She smirked down at her stained smock and trousers. She certainly fit in with McDougal's crew of roughnecks. She wasn't even the shortest. That honor fell to Nick. Though Rosa had also said Nick would grow to match his brother McDougal's beefy stature.

"Rosa weren't muchuva gypsy for-teller, no siree," Tobias snickered. The alto voice she'd inherited from her mother pa.s.sed quite well as a light tenor. She forced herself to lean back against the gla.s.s window and inspect the crumbly black street below. Then she swept her sharp eyes over the rooftops. Seeing nothing, she turned her attention back to the arrow she was modifying. Unconsciously, she hunched over again as another vicious cramp tore through her innards and swore under her breath.

"Hey, Tobias. Aren't you s'posed to be keepin' watch?" Tobias glanced through the shattered window on her right and saw Mack, McDougal's right hand man, scowling out at her.
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"I'm watchin'," Tobias protested. "Tain't nuttin ta see." She scanned the surrounding cityscape again and then hissed involuntarily as yet another cramp hit.

"Hey, you good?" Ire warred with concern in his tone, but ultimately concern won. "You sick again?"

"Nah," Tobias tried to put him off. "Musta been sommat I ate. Pro'lly oughtta avoid the rat stew. Gets me e'rry time."

"The Cat dun like rat, eh?" Mack chuckled at his joke. "Best get inside, lad. Dun wantcha on the Wall if ya gets the drop-squirts. Tell Bucky to get his a.r.s.e up here, gotcha?"

"Gotcha," Tobias levered himself to his feet on the narrow ledge and stepped past Mack through the broken window. Mack lumbered out onto the ledge and took the lookout post. Arrow in hand, Tobias headed toward the steps that led down to their main room.

"Hey! Didja stab yer a.r.s.e onta gla.s.s?"

"Huh?" Tobias turned back toward Mack in confusion.

"There's blood onta perch. Have yer bunkie check for damages. Dun wanna lose ya to the rot."


"Gotcha," Tobias repeated, hoping her flush was hidden by the dim light that seeped through the dirty, cracked windows. She knew she hadn't sat on some broken gla.s.s, so she wasn't in danger of a wound festering. But she clearly needed to change her rags, and come up with a story for Nick to tell Mack when the diligent second in command followed up with her roommate to make sure the 'wound' had been tended.

She turned and hurried across the open room, jumbled with flimsy barriers and lots of identical pieces of furniture that were a peculiar cross between a table and a dresser. The whole building was filled with them, except where they'd been cleared out or scavenged for materials. Sometimes she lay awake at night, wondering what the building's original inhabitants used such odd furniture for. There were stories pa.s.sed around that people had sat unmoving at the strange tables all day, mesmerized by machines like those found in the UF district. Tobias didn't really believe these tales, though. Surely no one was dumb enough to be captured by machines one day, set free to return home at night, and then walk back to be trapped again the next day.

Tobias pushed hard against a heavy, metal door. It swung open with a grating shriek, allowing her entry into an echoing stairwell. The stairs were carved from a rough, pale rock that seemed to be made of smaller rocks. Rusty metal railing lined the center and an equally rust rail ran down the wall. Tobias guessed that they were originally placed to prevent people from falling down the narrow central shaft. They were so damaged now that Tobias never dared touch them. Instead, she circled around and around, near the wall but not touching the rail. She went carefully but quickly, keeping her steps light. Even so, the tap tap tap reverberated up and down the stairwell.

The door at the bottom of the stairs had greased hinges, and McDougal himself spent three hours making sure it hung properly when his crew relocated to Wall Street five years ago. This allowed Tobias to slip silently into the common room. Several gruff men loitered there playing a card game, but they didn't look up at Tobias's entrance. Tobias continued, slipping quickly around the edges of the room and through the side door that led into the room she shared with Nick.

She shut the door firmly behind her, set aside the arrow, and scurried to her pallet. There, she rummaged underneath the rough padding and pulled out a fresh wad of rags. With a cautious glance at the door, she yanked her trousers down and swapped the soaked rags out. She thrust the soiled cloth into the depths of the basket holding her dirtier clothes and promised herself to wash the lot of them tomorrow. With a quick inspection, she decided her trousers would pa.s.s. She wiped her stained hands on the laundry and then hastened to secure her trousers.

The door burst open and Tobias spun around guiltily. Nick paused in the open door. "Tobias? Ain't ya got watch?"

"Yah. Gotta bellyache, and Mack tol' me ta take off. S'posta send Bucky up, but I hadda stop'n use the pot." Tobias picked up the chamber pot out to ill.u.s.trate.

Nick took a step back. "Cudda used ta jakes, mate! Take it out, wudja?"

"Yah, yah. Cudja send Bucky upta Mack?" Nick turned and went back to the common room without further comment. Tobias heaved a silent sigh of relief and followed him out of their room, chamber pot still in hand. As he went to talk to one of the card players, Tobias continued her previous course around the edge of the room and went through another side door. A short dark hall led to two doors. One door had a blank-featured grey figure with bare arms and legs. The other door had a similar figure with a triangle overlaid on top of it. Knowing McDougal preferred the jakes with the kilted figure, Tobias used the door with the naked figure. She entered, quickly checking the part.i.tioned sections for feet to make sure she was alone. She leaned against the tiled wall and sighed. Then she looked at the empty chamber pot.

"Dun like ta lie," she muttered. A twisted smile quirked her lips. "Leastwise, na more'n I havetah." Shoving off the wall, she pushed the largest part.i.tion open and 'emptied' the pot into the gaping hole. She sprinkled a scoop of the clean dirt kept in a handy bucket to help contain the unsavory aromas wafting up. Turning away, Tobias contemplated the shattered pottery they had shoved into a corner of that stall. The few intact curves indicated that the pots had been quite large when they were in one piece. "Who'd wantah dump such a big pot?" Tobias shook her head, dismissing the curiosity as was normal. Whoever had created this building, and all the others like it, made no sense that she'd ever seen.

Tobias avoided attention once more as she slipped back into her room. Her stomach growled as she caught a whiff of the stew someone had started for dinner. Her monthlies always made her hungry, but she'd told Mack her stomach was upset so she couldn't get anything now. In a few hours, she could pretend the sickness had pa.s.sed and have some dinner, though. She made a mental note to ask if it was rat today to keep up the pretense that the rat stew they'd had yesterday was the source of her trouble.

Tobias curled up on her pallet in a miserable ball. Moving had taken her mind off the cramps, but when she stopped they cruelly bit again. Trying to keep her mind off the physical pain, Tobias looked at her rumpled bedding and saw the arrow she'd been modifying.

It was black, and made with a material she hadn't seen before she came to the Nexus. Akicita had given it to her over eleven years ago, when they'd both escaped the tender care of Uncle Tom. She shuddered at the memory of the vile man and the name he'd instructed his wh.o.r.es to call him. Back in that dark mindset, Akicita persuaded her not to turn the weapon on herself in response to the pain and humiliation she'd felt after even her brief stay with the procurer. She'd been lucky, and she knew it now. Not only had Rosa swept her under McDougal's protection when she had washed up in the Nexus eleven years past, but when she had been s.n.a.t.c.hed up by Tom, Akicita had chosen to include her in his escape plan. Once free, Tobias led them to Wall Street, and McDougal had tried to take Akicita in as well.

Tobias sighed and ground her face into the smelly blanket. She wished Akicita had chosen to stay in the relative safety McDougal offered. It was a rough place, but it felt like family. And she'd really wished Akicita had been family. Not another brother, but maybe ...

Tobias sat up angrily and slapped her cheeks. She couldn't afford to get sucked into such wishful thinking. She needed to be practical. Akicita had left, trying to get home, and returned … broken. Tobias shuddered at the memory of the dead eyes that had looked at her without recognition when they'd helped repair the lean-to Akicita had built when he'd left Wall Street. He'd called it his interst.i.tial place when she'd asked about it before he left. She hadn't quite known what Akicita meant by that, though.

"Na Akicita," she reminded herself out loud. "Jus' Cita." She frowned. She hadn't really liked the healer, Ninurta, who'd kept trying to coax a response from the pa.s.sive Cita. Kaymun wasn't much better - he saw too much. She'd liked Bilal, who'd spent hours talking to Cita until his voice was completely gone, and then gone to work expanding the lean-to and building a fancy bed frame for Cita's resting place. Zara was nice, too, with her silly song that she sang to Cita throughout the day. She couldn't stand Ryka, though. Just thinking about the younger girl, and how she looked down on Cita, made Tobias's blood boil.

She shook her head violently and examined the arrow. She was really close to the solution they needed for Tom's crockery bombs. She just needed to affix the sparker she'd crafted to the arrow so that it would trigger only after the tip had cracked the clay. She frowned and reached for a tiny set of pliers she'd bartered three days' work to get from the UF district. If she could twist a bit of wire around the sparker and then the arrow shaft …

She lost all track of time as she worked on her project. The cramps didn't fade and the growling of her stomach just increased. Neither interrupted her focus. Shouting in the common room broke through as she inspected her results. Arrow in hand, she stuck her head out and saw Mikey talking excitedly with McDougal and Mack. She frowned. Mikey had been one of Tom's bullies, until about a year ago when he'd turned traitor. Tobias wasn't sure she trusted him.

"Uncle Tom's on the move! Rumor's all over the Nexus - Cita's awake and everyone's scattered. And Bilal says he is!"

"Wuzzat? Talk sense, mate." McDougal drawled.

"Cita! He's awake, and Uncle Tom wants him back! And he's got the men to push it through."

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