Read Online LEGACY LOST by Rachel Eastwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rachel Eastwood
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her, their invisibility shield had been singed away, and now they could maintain forty-five miles per hour all day if they so pleased. Still, Legacy wasn’t allowed behind the wheel, in some very effective form of negative reinforcement, but she enjoyed the view of sunset from the deck nonetheless, and Ray didn’t seem to mind her presence. She could tell herself she was keeping him company, even if he didn’t seem to give a damn one way or the other, and his girlfriend, Izzy, was already there with him. Ray and Izzy had been housemates with Neon Trimpot before he’d defected, and moved aboard the airship prior to its launch, fearful that they would be turned in if they stayed behind.
“And, you know, it’s not like I was saying he had to go all the way or anything. Of course. I mean, I respect a man’s decision about that kind of thing,” Legacy rambled. “I just wanted to be comforted. Is that so much to ask?”
“You sound like a man,” Izzy chirped, smirking.
Legacy glanced over her shoulder at the curly-haired, sandy-skinned girl and glowered. “That’s so sexist.”
“I think Dax made a really mature and compassionate call,” Izzy continued.
Legacy shifted as if there was a rock in her boot. “Compassionate, really?” she pressed. “Try selfish. Egotistical? Like, ‘Oh, just love me, forget your needs and love me’ . . .”
“Instead of, ‘Oh, just fuck me’?” Ray interjected blithely.
“He can’t help if his standard for sexual activity is high,” Izzy defended him. “It’s admirable.”
Legacy blanched, remembering her transgressions in the private booth at Glitch’s House of Oil, a seedy drink den in Groundtown, the red light district of Icarus.
“You’re awfully . . . pink,” Izzy noted, examining Legacy in profile.
The girl shaded her face. “I’m dehydrated,” she snapped.
Izzy gasped and tittered. “Have you and Dax already . . . done it?” she pressed.
“No!” Legacy said.
“Aw, come on, you can–”
Thankfully, on multiple levels, the distant rumble of a thunderhead interrupted the scene both trivial and tortuous.
“Oh my god! Rain!” Izzy cheered.
“I’ll go get Vector!” Legacy volunteered, racing toward the forecastle. “Rain! Rain! Vector! It’s going to rain!”
The entirety of the Albatropus’ innards came spilling out onto the deck, thirsty and jubilant. The swollen, dirty gray clouds beyond were approaching at a steady rate, the wind picking up, with it the smell of earth and water. Vector extended the vertical sheets of non-porous material like blinds on rods, and everyone bubbled and hummed about their pails or the bucket and how quickly they would drink. The wind swelled around the people, plucking at their hair and their clothes, and just as Legacy caught eyes with Dax, standing on the forecastle with Rain, a sheet of water rocketed across the potbelly airship and drilled against its patched balloon. The vessel even shifted, not unlike the ground of Icarus beneath their feet not so long ago, but now they only cheered. They needed the water more than they needed any intangible fears.
Legacy didn’t have a pail of her own, so she jumped up and down with her mouth open and let it wet her throat.
“Here,” Saul, so often sequestered in the laboratory, said to her. He shoved a gallon pail brimming with rainwater into Legacy’s arms. “Drink.”
Legacy opened her mouth to the metal bucket and allowed
“And, you know, it’s not like I was saying he had to go all the way or anything. Of course. I mean, I respect a man’s decision about that kind of thing,” Legacy rambled. “I just wanted to be comforted. Is that so much to ask?”
“You sound like a man,” Izzy chirped, smirking.
Legacy glanced over her shoulder at the curly-haired, sandy-skinned girl and glowered. “That’s so sexist.”
“I think Dax made a really mature and compassionate call,” Izzy continued.
Legacy shifted as if there was a rock in her boot. “Compassionate, really?” she pressed. “Try selfish. Egotistical? Like, ‘Oh, just love me, forget your needs and love me’ . . .”
“Instead of, ‘Oh, just fuck me’?” Ray interjected blithely.
“He can’t help if his standard for sexual activity is high,” Izzy defended him. “It’s admirable.”
Legacy blanched, remembering her transgressions in the private booth at Glitch’s House of Oil, a seedy drink den in Groundtown, the red light district of Icarus.
“You’re awfully . . . pink,” Izzy noted, examining Legacy in profile.
The girl shaded her face. “I’m dehydrated,” she snapped.
Izzy gasped and tittered. “Have you and Dax already . . . done it?” she pressed.
“No!” Legacy said.
“Aw, come on, you can–”
Thankfully, on multiple levels, the distant rumble of a thunderhead interrupted the scene both trivial and tortuous.
“Oh my god! Rain!” Izzy cheered.
“I’ll go get Vector!” Legacy volunteered, racing toward the forecastle. “Rain! Rain! Vector! It’s going to rain!”
The entirety of the Albatropus’ innards came spilling out onto the deck, thirsty and jubilant. The swollen, dirty gray clouds beyond were approaching at a steady rate, the wind picking up, with it the smell of earth and water. Vector extended the vertical sheets of non-porous material like blinds on rods, and everyone bubbled and hummed about their pails or the bucket and how quickly they would drink. The wind swelled around the people, plucking at their hair and their clothes, and just as Legacy caught eyes with Dax, standing on the forecastle with Rain, a sheet of water rocketed across the potbelly airship and drilled against its patched balloon. The vessel even shifted, not unlike the ground of Icarus beneath their feet not so long ago, but now they only cheered. They needed the water more than they needed any intangible fears.
Legacy didn’t have a pail of her own, so she jumped up and down with her mouth open and let it wet her throat.
“Here,” Saul, so often sequestered in the laboratory, said to her. He shoved a gallon pail brimming with rainwater into Legacy’s arms. “Drink.”
Legacy opened her mouth to the metal bucket and allowed