The next morning I was surprised when I strolled into the Recycling-Works yard and saw our truck was back. Looking unaffected by its trip into North End as well. As I walked over to join my workmates, I ran my eyes along the battered body. Memories of yesterday’s encounters with the Skel and the Japanese ran through my mind. I hoped today would be a bit less exciting.
There was no sign of Sergeant King and his Custodians. In fact, we might even be sent a different squad since King lost half his men yesterday.
As if summoned by my thoughts, a Custodian Bushmaster Protected Mobility Vehicle roared down the street and backed slowly into the yard, parking parallel with our truck. The Bushmaster looked like a box on wheels, but from what I heard, it was bulletproof, impervious to mines, and coated with fire retardant paint. It was also very, very old – all our Bushmasters pre-dated the Apocalypse. Just about every part of them had been reconditioned or replaced at some stage over the years.
"Looks like they're expecting Skel today," Michal said dryly.
"Yeah, got a bit of a shock yesterday, they did." Shorty laughed.
“Two of them also got a bit dead.” I reminded them.
The Bushmaster's rear door swung open on well-oiled hinges – and wouldn’t you know it – out stepped Sergeant King, ready and willing to face the Skel again. My respect for the guy went up a notch.
Trajan, the boss, rushed outside to talk to King, no doubt thanking him for his squad’s wonderful effort in saving my team yesterday. I wonder what he'd say if he found out it was the other way around.
Hearing light footsteps in the street outside piqued my interest. I turned around and froze in shock when Nanako walked into the yard with Councillor Okada trailing behind her. She held a small, black box wrapped in a checked-pattern handkerchief.
Upon spying me, her petite, round face lit up with joy and she hurried over to me. She bowed briefly and held out her hands. "I made this for you."
I looked down at the beautiful lacquered wooden lunchbox and had no idea what to do. Just seeing her, a single girl, out here in the streets of Newhome – albeit with a chaperone – was a concept so unfamiliar that my mind whirled in confusion.
"For me?" was all I could think to say.
"It's obento." She nodded to encourage me to accept the home-cooked lunch.
Michal gave me a gentle shove, whispering, "Go on, accept it, you drongo."
I stumbled forward a step and took the beautiful lunchbox, trying not to stammer. "This is wonderful. Thank you, Nanako."
Sergeant King chose that moment to interrupt, casting a questioning glance at Nanako and Councillor Okada. "Okay boys, the day's not getting any younger. Saddle up and move out!"
He could have at least greeted them, the unsociable sod.
We clambered into the truck and as Michal drove, Nanako walked to the gate with Councillor Okada. She stood there quietly, watching us drive off. I flashed her a warm smile and waved, clutching her unexpected gift with my other hand. She bowed, and held it until we were out of sight.
As we headed for the town gates, I wondered what had prompted her to give me such a gift. Did she feel indebted to me for saving her life yesterday? If that was the case, I had to tell her that she didn't owe me anything. It had been my honour to save her from the Skel.
It took us multiple stops and almost the whole morning to find a source of non-corrosive metals to strip out. There was no way we were gonna return to the Victoria Street apartments, and I couldn’t risk using my flash sonar again. We eventually found a virtual gold mine in a street of ransacked one-story houses. They still had their external gas hot water systems.
The Custodians gave the work site a quick once over when we arrived and then retired to the Bushmaster, where one of them operated the roof mounted machine gun at all times.
After we had removed and disassembled several hot water systems to cannibalise the parts we wanted, my watch chimed one o’clock.
My workmates and I ripped off our gloves, wiped our hands clean with antibacterial hand wipes, and climbed onto the truck’s bonnet or roof to eat, just as we did every day.
Sitting cross-legged on the bonnet, I carefully removed the handkerchief from the lacquered lunchbox, aware that my workmates looked on with baited breath. I lifted the lid and gasped. The partitioned tray was filled with a whole host of painstakingly prepared delicacies, the likes of which I had never seen. There were tomato slices with sculptured rabbit ears, slices of carrot carved into flowers, and marinated chicken pieces. There were slices of bread curled about beans, tendrils of fried fish, and even rolls of scrambled egg. Beneath this tray was another, this one filled with fruits and vegetables, each imaginatively presented.
“Well, do we share?” I asked.
“Get real,” Michal laughed, “She made it for you, Ethan. We ain’t gonna touch it.”
"Hey, speak for yourself," Shorty complained.
"Yeah, I think I'd sign up for some of that," David agreed.
Michal glared at the others and they quickly backed down.
“I think she likes you.” Shorty ribbed me with a knowing smile.
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Well, come on, if you ain't gonna share it, taste it and tell us what it's like,” David demanded impatiently.
And so began the most delightful culinary experience of my life. “It tastes even better than it looks!” I exclaimed with my mouth full.
As I ate, I imagined a young, petite Japanese girl getting up early, buying fresh food from the market, and slaving away in her kitchen as she prepared the meal. And this is the bit that blew me away – she did it for me! I also thought of her walking all the way to the Recycling-Works to deliver it by hand. She must have asked someone where I worked, including when I started my shift. I was deeply moved by her gesture – and with the strict segregation of males and females in our society, I wondered if this was the first time something like this had happened in Newhome.
Shorty said Nanako liked me, but how could that be possible when we had just met and spoken only a few words to each other?
Having consumed the obento to the very last morsel, I packed up the lunchbox and made mental plans to drop it off at North End's gates this evening with instructions to return it. Nanako had clearly brought it with her from Hamamachi and as it looked quite valuable, she would want it back.
"Ethan, I've been thinking about yesterday, and something bothers me," Michal said when we finished eating.
"Go on."
"Excluding yesterday, we've fought Skel, what, four times in two years? Three of those times were in the middle or outer eastern suburbs, and there's never been more than three or four of them. So, have there been other occasions where you’ve 'detected' Skel and steered us away from them?"
Michal was on the ball all right. The times we fought Skel was when they tried to jump us while we were in the act of stripping out a place. "Yes, on several occasions. And to pre-empt your next question, it was normally in the outer eastern suburbs."
Michal met my gaze. "So why were there twelve yesterday, and practically on Newhome's doorstep?"
"I’ve been pondering the same thing. I hope it was just a one off, but life is never that simple, is it?"
Glancing at the other three sitting on the truck's cab, Michal indicated Leigh, who was staring into space with a dreamy expression.
"What's up, Leigh?” I called out. “Never seen you this quiet before – can’t find something to grumble about?"
"Leigh's been doing something lately that he shouldn’t be," David answered somewhat testily.
"Like what?" I asked, curious. Whatever Leigh was doing, David was green with envy.
"You don't want to know, Jones," Shorty said with a giant smirk, before adding in a whisper, "but he's not a model citizen these days."
"Please don't do anything stupid, Leigh," I implored.
"Too late for that!" Shorty laughed.
"Keep your voices down, you drongos!" Leigh hissed.
I grabbed his forearm and made eye contact. “I don’t know what this is about, Leigh, and I don’t want to, but whatever you're doing, cut it out before it’s too late. You hear me?”
“Whatever!” he snapped back.
I don’t think my message got through to him, so I gave up and jumped down to stretch. "Let's get back to it, guys. We don't want the Custodians keeping tabs on the length of our lunch breaks."