all things I get to endure today this here hole in the ground is the one I’m the least enthused about. Sadly I would prefer that I handled matters myself. I can get that sleep when I’m needed less.’
‘And there was me thinking your life is all truffles and fine wine.’
‘It’s good to dream,’ she muttered, taking another look whilst holding on to her wind-flailed locks. The checkpoint was significantly closer.
‘I’m not planning on dilly-dallying. We get things stamped and we’re gone. If I had my way we wouldn’t even put on the brakes.’
‘It’s a disappointing notion for you but even we have to abide by the law of the land.’
‘It’s not the law I’m concerned about.’
Misu hung on to the outer railing as the train pulled in to the station, lining itself up to the checkpoint platform. Its nose approached the lowered barrier gradually and fell between the well-painted markers against platform side and tracks. She waited for the clockwork jet of steam that exploded out with an almighty hiss beneath the engine itself before finally dissipating. She strolled to the steps and hopped down onto the platform, spying an unremarkable two-storey building with pitted tiling. A black painted tin sign hung on the north-facing wall, with paint flaking away from relentless exposure to the environment.
Misu shielded her eyes with a hand and scoffed at the name.
Little Heaven
What a very depressing view of the afterlife, she thought. Her impressions of such a place differed greatly.
Watching since before their arrival, two checkpoint guards sat in the noon shade, tossing cards into an upturned hat. One had his hair combed back to the point where it chanced falling out, or what was left of it at least. The other, young enough to have a badge though seemingly not old enough to shave, set about emptying the hat and recompiling his hand, almost annoyed at the interruption. On Misu’s approach the most senior on duty placed an incomplete deck of cards on the table in front of him before tipping the lip of his hat.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted from his seat, fresh-faced and unusually buoyant. Being stuck out here was enough to cause the onset of depression, Misu assumed, though it was good that someone was able to stave this off – unlike his sour-faced colleague. He watched, flicking debris away from a toothpick.
‘Good morning, gentlemen. A pleasure to be in your company.’
The senior got to his feet and stretched. ‘Kind words. I like you already,’ he stated, attempting to relieve Misu of any concern. Checkpoints were difficult places for all involved. Half were populated with unsavoury types on the take, with the other half a toxic mix of young upstarts who did everything vigorously by the book. Either way, anybody transporting goods normally spent more time at each one than was necessary – or comfortable. She accompanied him along the platform side, his stroll to the front engine slow and patient, as if work was a blight on his person.
‘How are the travels?’
‘Very well, all things considered.’
‘Considered?’ He paused, looking over the carriages that gleamed in the brilliant sun.
‘I don’t need to explain the difficulties to yourself out here, sir. The damned heat is the least of our worries. Little company. Rising costs. It’s a difficult life to be sure.’
‘Ah, yes, now that I can relate to.’ He began marking numbers down in a small notebook. ‘The Morning Star, right?’
‘The very same.’ Misu smiled. Their reputation had grown sufficiently, though in some places this could be unwelcome. Attention could be a curse if it came from the wrong circles.
‘Well I’ll be. For a moment I mistook you for that other one of your kind. What was it.’ He clicked his fingers over and over. ‘Ah! The Gambler’s Den!’
‘That, we are not.’ Misu kept a polite smile on display. ‘I can assure you of that.’
‘No, no you are not, a trick of the heat I imagine. The Morning Star, my word, oh yes. I’ve heard about you, a friend of mine caught a show not too long ago. Said you were the best thing he had ever seen. A circus of pleasure I believe were his exact words.’ He took the last of the carriage numbers down and turned the page in his notebook, giving a series of rapid ticks in a series of columns. Too quick for Misu’s liking.
‘How flattering. It’s nice to know we are enjoyed,’ she stated.
‘Been in any trouble? Any tampering of any sort while you were pulled in anywhere? People sniffing around, the likes of which you haven’t seen before?’
‘Perish the thought. We have someone to deter such things. People would be foolish to even try.’ It was a veiled threat with honeyed words, but a threat nonetheless.
‘Smart move. You can’t be too careful out here. We’ve got bandits rattling around the desert like damned ticks. You don’t have anything on you that you shouldn’t have? Contraband, unlicensed weapons, that sort of thing?’
Misu produced a bundle of well-sorted papers enclosed in leather straps. Every licence had been sorted by type, then sorted alphabetically for ease of inspection. They were received and scrutinized, though it was somewhat more lax than she was used to. Paperwork was stamped and signed before being handed back, with only the travel documents outstanding.
His partner was sniffing around the carriages and almost on cue, a couple of the showgirls slid down a window and began cheery small talk. They cooed and batted their eyelashes, ensuring he was sufficiently distracted. They were young, one a small blonde waif younger than most, the age quite noticeable alongside the freckled red-haired siren who hung on his every word. Misu remarked on this immediately.
‘Don’t be scaring them now,’ Misu called to the guard who quite clearly was pushing his luck. ‘My girls there, they’re fragile things. They’re no use to me spooked.’
The older man ruffled his top lip, sending a greying moustache into motion.
‘I don’t suppose we could convince you and your entourage to step out for a drink, could we? Like you said, company is fleeting around here and we’ve been starved for anything resembling fun.’
‘Sweet, but we must decline. We’re on something of a tight schedule, and punctuality is a forte of mine. I’m sure you understand.’
The senior made the last of his notes and tucked his notebook into a breast jacket pocket.
‘Well, I would say we’re all good here, miss, though there is something still outstanding.’
Misu kept her performance perfect. A query with no hint of sarcasm was delivered. ‘Oh? And what would that be? You can inspect inside if you so wish. I assure you, we have nothing to hide.’
‘There’s a, er …’ The man hesitated before leaning in closer. ‘There’s a tax in these parts for this particular type of vehicle.’
Misu sighed. ‘A tax.’
‘Right.’
‘Let me guess. A very
