care?”
“Sometimes change is necessary,” Amy's eyes meet the teen's, “Sometimes you have to let go an' move on. It isn't about caring or not caring.”
Brina blinks, swallowing hard, “Where could we even go? Maybe we don't have much, but to not have a home anymore...”
“We'll have a home,” Amy takes a deep breath, “Pack what you need for work or absolutely can't live without.”
“Today?”
“We'll go once you're packed.”
Brina frowns, “What about you?”
“I have anythin' I'll need.”
“So as soon as I've packed my stuff?” Brina shivers, “That's...” She shakes her head, “I don't have a job today, so I might as well pack once I'm done with this.” She returns to the task she had been working on.
Amy watches silently, sipping her drink, while the teen finishes her work on her tools.
That done, Brina packs everything away neatly in a hardened leather case. The case is the first thing packed into an ancient old backpack which has been lying around. She adds any other equipment she needs for her jobs and all her clothing. Then she pauses in the middle of the floor, surveying the basement which looks much more like a home than when they had first moved in. Finally, she shakes her head and zips up the backpack.
“All done?” Amy eases herself to her feet.
Brina nods, “Let's just go.”
Amy leads the way out of the basement, pausing to padlock the door, before mounting the steps to the street. Brina keeps close, growing increasingly nervous as they walk through the streets. They leave the neighbourhood they have lived in for as long as Brina can remember and cross the city to an area of wider streets and much larger, better cared for homes. Beyond that, they reach a subdivision filled with walled and gated mansions. Brina shrinks close to Amy, who is paying more attention to the street numbers than anything else. Eventually, she stops to open one of the gates and usher Brina onto a property no different from the others around it. Amy follows a narrow stone path to a side entrance into the garage and stretches up, her fingers feeling along a crack beside the door frame. Coming up with a key, she unlocks the door, replaces the key, and ushers Brina into a huge garage containing a single small car.
“What is this place?”
“I'll explain later,” Amy leads the teen across the garage and up an inside staircase. At the top, they follow a hallway to the main foyer. An elderly woman appears from one of the rooms on the far side. She studies Amy with widening eyes before shaking her head.
“Ma'am,” The elderly woman swallows hard, “Did you just arrive in town?”
“Not exactly,” Amy takes a deep breath, “Mrs Gurail?” She waits for the woman to nod before turning to Brina, “This is the housekeeper, Mrs Gurail,” Addressing the elderly woman again, she continues, “This is Brina. She'll need rooms... probably for a while.”
The elderly woman nods, “Yes, ma'am.” She disappears up the stairs.
Brina gazes wide eyed around the foyer before turning to Amy, “You... own... this place.”
“It's one of the properties included in the estate my husband controls,” Amy leads the girl into the dining room where they can sit until the housekeeper returns, “I haven't been here since Mrs Gurail was newly appointed housekeeper... she was much younger then. But it's a roof over our head the city won't attempt to knock down.”
“I guess,” Brina swallows hard, “Now what?”
“You finish training,” Amy's eyes meet the teen's, “You'll have access to the library here an' I'll be takin' you to a range for firearms trainin'. You're also comin' up on old enough to learn to drive an' if you want to do that, there're people I'll need to talk to 'bout the arrangements.”
Brina slowly nods, “I don't have any ID. I'm not sure my birth was even registered.”
“There're ways around that,” Amy shrugs it off, “Right now, you need some time to settle in here. You're also gonna learn a few things 'bout copin' in polite society.”
The teen makes a face, “I'd never pass for anythin' 'cept a street rat.”
Amy chuckles, “You'd be surprised what a street rat can be capable of.”
Brina studies the woman critically, “Did you really grow up on the street somewhere?”
Amy nods, “Not here,” She sighs, “Not anywhere that exists now.”
“Your home was destroyed?” Brina shivers.
“The entire town burnt to the ground one summer an' it was decided it wasn't worth rebuildin'.”
“A whole town?” The teen looks sceptical.
Amy shrugs it off, “A whole town worse than the neighbourhood we just left. 'Tween that an' the Church, there isn't much out there these days.”
“The Church.” Brina scowls.
“It is what it is an' it seems to be here to stay a while.” Amy does not say anything more because the housekeeper enters the room.
“Ma'am, the master suite is open for you. A suite beside it has been opened for the young lady.”
“Thank you.” Amy stands, indicating for Brina to accompany her. Leaving the dining room, they go upstairs. At one end of the hallway which runs the width of the house, Amy ushers Brina through an open door.
“Take some time to settle in an' unpack. I need to make a call.”
“Okay.” Brina swallows hard as she looks around the first room.
Leaving her there, Amy goes down to the telephone in the library. It takes her a moment to remember the number she wants. Once she does, she dials and then listens to it ring and ring and ring. Finally, a breathless female voice answers.
“Hello, Austlan House.”
“It's Amy. I need some of my belongings shipped to the house in Settlement City.”
“Yes, ma'am. What would you like?”
“My motorcycle an' helmet. My saddlebags, which should have all my tool an' weapon kits in them. My ID an' bank cards. My wedding rings,” Amy pauses to think for a moment, “That should be everythin'. Has Malcom been in touch?”
“No, ma'am. To the best of my knowledge, he and Will are at Belstrand. I'll have your belongings shipped as soon as possible.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else, ma'am?”
“Not today. I'll call if I need anythin' else.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Amy hangs up the receiver, but remains near the telephone for a time before leaving the library and going upstairs to check on Brina.
“So how's this gonna work?” Brina scowls at the papers on the table in front of her, “I don't know any of this.”
“Once we get through these, you'll legally be my ward,” Amy rolls a pen across the table, “So one blank at a time. You know your first name.”
The teen nods and picks up the pen to fill in the first space on the form.
“You'll use my family name since you don't remember any names from your own family. K-R-E-S-S.”
Brina frowns, but writes on the third space, “I don't need a middle name, do I?”
“Most people on this continent don't even have one. This form is usually used for immigrants.”
The teen looks up at her, “Do you?”
“Amy is my middle name.” The woman's expression turns wry. A moment later, she moves on, “Write unknown in the spaces for your parents' names.”
“Okay.” Brina does as instructed, “What about my birth date? I guess I was born here, but I'm not even sure how old I am. Or do you remember?”
“February, fifteen years ago.”
Brina makes a face, “You don't remember the specific day?”
“You were born at a free clinic some time around the middle of the month,” Amy shrugs, “Your mother an' grandma were off the street nearly a week.”
“So call it the fourteenth,” Brina figures, “'Less you think the clinic would have the record.”
Amy shakes her head, “That specific clinic burned to the ground years ago. All of their files were lost in the fire.”
The teen sig
hs, “So much for that. What about the rest of this?”
“The rest is for me to fill out an' file. I seriously doubt the CPA 'll contest the request.”
“Why would they?” Brina shakes her head, passing the forms and pen across the table, “Most foster kids don't have things this good. But won't they want me in school?”
“You'll be registered as a home schooler,” Amy picks up the pen, “Which is nothing more or less than the truth. Maybe you'll never quite be grade twelve equivalent, but what you are learning will serve you better.”
Brina nods to herself. “What about your husband?”
“I don't think he'll be returnin' to the continent before you come of age,” Amy shrugs it off, “Honestly, even if he did, he wouldn't say anythin'.”
The teen takes a deep breath, her eyes going to the woman's face, “Do you remember what happened? Why you're livin' apart? Why you even came here?”
Slowly, Amy shakes her head, “Not so far. But it may be the last thing to come back.”
September-72
Amy is in the garage, doing a little bit of work on her motorcycle, when Brina slips in the side door. The young woman comes over to watch the older one work.
Amy glances up, “What happened now?”
“The guild,” Brina sighs, “Seems like nothin' can stop this guy.”
“The thieves guild has existed since shortly after the Migration,” Amy shrugs lightly, “Jailin' a few local leaders isn't gonna make it go away.”
The young woman scowls, “Mostly I wish they'd leave me alone. They leave you alone.”
“They can't touch a trained merc,” Amy sits back on her heels, “Unfortunately that's a protection I can't extend to you.”
“So...?”
“You will have your place,” The older