“This way we get answers,” she drew the long rifle from her back, sporting goggles much like my own, and fired a special shot, a net of pulsating energy which streamed forth and embraced both rider and sail, entangling them and sending them crashing and tumbling through the sand.
Within the next few moments, two whirring drones, sirens blaring and lights flaring, hovered up to the scene. Their trifocal rotating eyes flickered, snapping images as they circled the apprehended girl and the stolen sail and then they positioned themselves over the jumbled wreck. A stream of pulsing light reached from the bottom of either drone until it tethered onto the energized net that contained the wreck. The drones ascended, lifting both from the ground, then separated until there were two separate nets for individual containment: one, a dusty, beaten, and scratched hoverboard and it’s snapped sail; the other, a grimy mess of a girl, who at first had been kicking and flailing against her net but had since resigned to her fate.
A few more taps on her wrist-unit and the drones were off with the Marshal in tow while I was off to make sure Eizak had not found himself in too much trouble; we would meet back at the Marshal’s office to question the girl.
Eizak was at the mercy of the town’s master mechanic who refused to let him leave until he could come up with some kind of payment for the vehicle that the girl had stolen. Eizak’s couth words and guileless charm were wasted on the mechanic who was determined to show he was not remiss enough to allow Eizak to go on nothing more than promises he could not instantiate.
The master mechanic was another young male, possibly younger than Eizak if one were to assume on height and demeanor alone. His early adolescent figure was propped up by five clanking legs which supported him at the waist; his biological legs were unmistakably lifeless. He had Eizak backed against a wall with a sawed-off rifle in hand.
“Mister Dalaran, thank Sam! Could you please assure Master Danse that we will repay him, in full, for the loss of his craft and that, by holding me here, he is actively participating in the obstruction of justice and –”
Danse scoffed, “oh come off it. The Marshal being yer auntie don’t mean you get to run around playin’ deputy all day.”
“What’s with the gun, Dance,” I slipped in the pun-laden phonetic variant of his name, “ain’t no need for all that aggression.”
He turned his head and the exoskeleton carrying him turned as well, its angled metallic feet clanked against the coarse floor of his workshop. His sharp eyes locked onto me suspiciously, probably trying to decide if I had indeed called him Dance again. He turned up his lip at me, “yer little sidekick here owes me another sail.” Eizak blurted out that he was innocent but Danse wasn’t having it: “Regardless, you come in here with that girl who done it.”
“Brought in a pretty nice hull today,” I took a few wandering steps around Danse’s workshop, glancing at a scavengers smorgasbord of discarded parts and tools haphazardly strewn about. Danse followed my movements. “I’ll let you have first pickin’s and throw in a discount or two.”
“The board wasn’t mine, ya igit.” He punctuated — I rolled my eyes, “that’s pretty obvious.” — he glared and continued, “what I need is that sail back or the means ta fashion a new one. Ya get me that board or ya find me parts ta make another.” I pretended to muse it over a little as I crossed the room to stop in front of him. I shrugged and reached out my hand to shake on it, “and I still want first pickin’s,” and the deal was sealed.
“Let’s go, Eizak.” I signaled and the boy quickly made his way around Danse, “c’ya’round, Dance.” I waved over my shoulder and smirked at the curse that followed in my wake.
While we walked, I explained to Eizak that the girl was currently in holding at the Sheriff’s. I also explained to him that, seeing as he could not keep out of my business, and the girl escaping in the first place was mostly his fault (he disagreed thoroughly, that), he was going to help me clear up the rapidly upsurging debt I was accumulating. That, he seemed perfectly willing to accept.
Daily Prompt: Tether
Word of the Day: instantiate