I don’t remember my mother’s face, but I do remember her casket. It was a long, aluminum tube shaped like the combat drugs they issued when I was with the Black Palace Military. It’s a weird thing to stick in my head. It wasn’t flashy or pretty, just shiny metal and smooth contours. Nothing about it should have stuck out to me. Regardless, I remember it like the funeral was yesterday.
The Overseer’s hand was resting on my shoulder. The guy towered over me like a giant. I was still just a tiny little roak, scrawny, malnourished. Shit, a stiff wind could’ve blown me over. That didn’t stop the Overseers from watching me like they would a hardened criminal. It didn’t matter at the time. All I wanted was to hold her one last time.
Mom had been sick for a long time, never found out with what. As a kid, I always thought she was invincible. Before I was born she had volunteered as a miner on Jargun-Ba a dozen times. It was almost unheard of to go on that many drops and come back in one piece. But she did it, and the stories told me built this picture in my mind of my mom as this bad bitch that could take on anything. They also gave me nightmares that made me piss the bed, but I was a kid so cut me some slack.
When they launched her casket into the stars the overseers gave me a few minutes alone to say goodbye as she floated away. That’s when I ran.
They were going to take me to one of the government-run homes for orphans that were all over the place on Brarcolyn. I’d rather have my leg cut off than go to one of those holes. Might as well send me straight to the Maw.
Once they left the room, I crawled into one of the ducts. Most ductwork won’t support the weight of somebody, but I was small enough that I was able to squeeze in and make my way through the maze. I didn’t know where I was going so I just followed my nose. Even through all the filters, I could smell the street food from the markets permeating the air all around me. I just kept going wherever the smell was stronger.
As soon as I saw daylight I kicked the cover off the vent and ran into the streets. As I ran, I dodged around other Brarcolynites, skirting around people and running between legs. I heard a fair amount of cursing but didn’t pay any attention to it. All I wanted was somewhere to hide. To get as far away as I could from the Overseers and group homes as I could.
I couldn’t even see straight through the tears. They ran down my cheeks like drainage pipes, stinging my eyes and blinding me. I blame the crying for me running into a group of people at full speed.
It felt like I hit a wall made of flesh. My fact impacted someone’s hard thigh and I bounced off and tumbled across the ground. I scrambled to my feet, ready to run again, when I felt a pair of strong hands grab me and lift me from the ground.
I kicked and screamed like a rapid nibble, but it didn’t do any good. One of them put his hand over my mouth and I bit down until I tasted blood. The guy holding me grunted and smacked me hard enough on the back of my head to make me see stars. The blow must have knocked me out because the next thing I knew I was in an alley with my back against the wall and four men staring at me.
“Look at this little roak. Bit you good didn’t he, Presh?” said a stout man with stubble on his face.
The man standing in front of the others, Presh I guessed from the blood dripping from his hand, smiled, “Boys got some salt, that’s for sure. And teeth like an ornery nibbler.”
It was then I noticed the kind of people I ran into. They looked like any other hardscrabble you might find on Brarcolyn, except for the tattoo on the back of his hand. When I saw the graying ink of the pickaxe and broken planet representing the Breakers my gut tightened. Mom had told me all about the Subspace Underworld that operated on Brarcolyn, and the Breakers were some of the hardest operators on the asteroid colonies. People who got crosswise with them ended up disappearing, and I just bit one of them.
My head shot around, looking for some escape. Finding nothing, I looked at the group of men, raising my small fists prepared to fight. There was no way I could take on even one of the gangsters, but I wasn’t going to lie down and let them kill me either.
The men laughed uproariously, filling the alley with the echoes of their mirth. Tears brimmed in my eyes. Anger, grief, and fear swirled around in my mind, threatening to overwhelm me.
“The boy’s a little terror isn’t he,” said the skinny man standing to Presh’s other side. Presh grinned and nodded, “That he is. We might be able to get some good work outta someone like him.”
Presh walked toward me and I scooted back, expecting another blow. But the man crouched down in front of me instead, “What’s your name, boy?”
Indecision wracked my brain before I answered, “Ma told me outside the house I’m Arnis.”
“Outside the house you’re Arnis, eh?” Presh questioned, “So inside the house, your Ma called you something else? You a Jargunian kid? You got two names?”
I felt tension build in my chest, realizing I made a mistake. My mother always told me to keep my Jargunian name a secret. It was something special, something for just the two of us.
Shaking my head I said, “N-no. My name is Arnis.”
Presh sucked at his teeth and smiled again, “What if I told you I had two names too? I’m only Presh out in the streets and whenever Overseers start asking questions. But my Da gave me another name.”
Presh held out the hand I’d bitten to me, “My real name is Tal’ka, Took my Da’s name when I came of age. So, what’d your Ma call you?”
I unclenched my fist and put my small hand in his much larger one, “My Ma calls me Vex, sir.”
Presh shook my hand gently, “Pleasure to meet you, Vex. Excepting the bite, but I can forgive that. Where’s your Ma at, little one?”
Fresh tears sprang to my eyes, “She’s dead, sir,” I choked, “She got real sick and…”
I couldn’t finish, the grief was still too fresh. Trying to hold back tears I continued, “The Overseers wanted to take me to a group home, so I ran away.”
Presh’s mouth mouth twisted into a grimace, “Good instincts, boy. I got taken to one of them group homes when my parents died too. Terrible places.”
Presh sat back on his heels, pulled out a burner, and lit it. He inhaled deeply, blowing out a cloud of blue-gray smoke before speaking, “I like you, Vex. You got salt. Always got a use for someone with salt.”
He drew deeply from the burner again, the tip sizzling and popping with heat, “Tell you what, you do me a little job, I might can get you a spot on my crew.”
I didn’t answer right away. My mother had always warned me away from the gangs, telling me they were dangerous. But she thought the Overseers were worse. I was wracked with indecision, torn between options I was too young to understand the implications of. In the end, the Overseers scared me more than the men in front of me did. Since my mother had died I’d been passed between Overseers like little more than a bag of clothes. They didn’t care for me. I was just a task to be taken care of. Maybe with the Breakers, I could have something more.
“I’m not that big,” I said, “Ma told me Breakers rough people up. I can’t rough no one up 'cause I’m too small.”
Presh laughed, and the other two joined him. Embarrassed, more tears threatened to spring forth. But Presh waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t want you to rough no one up. Though you’d probably give it a go if I asked. No, you just need to show me you really got the salt to be one of us.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
Presh stood, “Come here.”
He led me to the opening of the alley, arm around my shoulder. The other two watched as he took me into the street, “You see that fella over there? The shopkeep with the funny hat?”
I saw the man and nodded, “The one selling sweet cakes? I see him.”
“I want you to go over there and steal me something,” he said.
There was a lump suddenly in my throat and I swallowed hard, “Steal something?”
“Yeah. It don’t matter what, but you bring me back something then you can be part of my crew.”
I chewed at my lip, but nodded my acceptance, “I’ll try.”
Presh slapped me on the back, “That’s a good lad. Off with you then. Bring us back something.”
Presh pushed me into the street, making me trip into a woman who gave me a stern look. Heart fluttering, I worked my way through the crowd and toward the sweet cake seller. I’d never stolen anything before, never done anything wrong. But I was desperate to impress these men. This could be my chance to find a second home, and I wasn’t going to throw that away.
The merchant was exchanging units with a young mother with two children, a boy and a girl around my age chewing happily on their sweet cakes. I walked up to the table, looking at all the different wares the man was offering. Everything looked delicious, sticky pastries covered in cream, sweet cakes fluffed to perfection, and balls of baked sugar and syrup.
I picked up four of the balls and went to put them in my pocket when I felt someone grab my wrist. Looking up, I saw the glaring eyes of the merchant staring down at me.
“What’re you doing, you little roak?” he shouted.
He slapped my hand, sending the sweets flying, and picked me up underneath my arms. I grabbed at the man’s belt and kicked him in the stomach with every bit of strength I could muster. The man gasped for air and tossed me over the table, breaking it and scattering his pastries everywhere.
While he was still gasping for air I ran. I could hear him calling for the Overseers as I wound my way through the crowd. I slid between two men and hid behind a stack of crates. The merchant ran past and turned the corner, running in the direction he thought I’d gone. There were Overseers at the merchant’s stand, surveying the wreckage and asking people what had happened. When no one was looking, I bolted back to the alley where Presh and his men were still waiting. Heart pumping and out of breath, I ran behind them and hid as the Overseers continued asking people questions.
“Let’s move,” Presh said as he watched the Overseers, “Little more heat here than I’m comfortable with.”
The three men started walking, keeping me between them and away from the eyes of the Overseers. I was pressed between all of them, barely able to see anything going on around me. We walked several sectors away before they pulled me aside. Presh looked down at me, his face downcast, “Bad luck there, boy. If you’d been a little quicker you might have gotten away with it. Shame, I like those little sweets.”
Quiet, my eyes low, I held out my hand to him and opened it. Sitting in the palm of my hand was the merchant’s purse. Presh, his eyes quizzical, took it from my hand and opened it. Inside were a handful of units, gleaming in the light. Presh smiled broadly, “Well, look at you.”
“I took it off him when he picked me up,” I said, my hands wringing, “Didn’t think sweets would be good enough, so I let him catch me so I could get his money.”
I look up at him with hopeful eyes, “Did I do good?”
Presh smiled and slapped me on the shoulder, “That you did, Vex. That you did."
That was the moment my life changed paths. That was the day I became a Breaker.
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