Doe, a deer, a female deer
Ray, a drop of golden sun
Doe, a deer, a female deer…
Doe crept between the parked storage containers, heart pounding. She could still see the peak of the ship. She was headed the right way.
Ray, a drop of golden sun…
Shadows made her jump for all of five seconds before she realised it was her own shadow. A skinny stick of a thing. Undersized, underfed, under-represented and, so far, under notice.
She wished she believed in God so she could entreat the speechless fellow for help.
Me, a name I call myself…
She didn’t have her ID. It made it hard to be Doe because it called her Jonathan. She didn’t have anything. The less she had to tie her down to Greater Deregulation, the better.
Far, a long long way to run…
There was a mile between herself, her cover, and the gantry that lead to the habitation zones of the trade freighter currently parked like a fat toad on the spaceport tarmac. Any minute, now, there would be dogs. Any minute now, the sweeping spotlights would highlight her. Any minute now, a sniper would explode her head from a vast distance.
She’d never run so far, so fast, or in such a straight line.
There was no street debris to dodge. No alleys she had to duck down. No crowds of potential enemies who could move to stop her flight and therefore endanger her life.
She didn’t feel her injuries as she tripped up the stairs. Just scrambled for her life up the gantry and inside the darkened vessel. Into a small enough storage space seemingly designed to hide a small human safely inside. There was an emergency medkit and attachments to the air system. There was even inertia padding.
Sew, a needle pulling thread…
There was a huge gash in her leg. And a pre-threaded needle in the kit. Doe gritted her teeth and sewed the wound shut as best as she could. She was good at not letting the universe know when she was in pain.
Years of practice.
La, a word to follow So…
She flinched as the door opened.
Instead of a descending fist or a shout of outrage, there was a quiet, “Hello… That’s my hiding spot, kiddo…”
“…pleasedon'thurtme?” Doe begged. Possibly on automatic.
Tea, a drink with jam and bread…
The man and his lizard - or was it the lizard and his man? They gently coaxed her out of her hiding spot. Patched up her injuries and fed her.
Not the rationed fare she expected, but fully-flavoured printed meals. And hot drinks. Sweet treats.
She couldn’t understand why Hwell apologised for the lack of ladies’ clothes “suitable for such a young darlin’ as yourself.”
Doe was grateful for anything that she could get. That they had such ready abundance for her was stunning. Dizzying.
Exhilarating.
Which will bring us back to Doe…
Two Standard months had made an immense change. Not the least of which were vitally satisfying adjustments to her anatomy. A Galactic education revealed worlds of difference between the greater Galactic Community and the heavy misogyny of Greater Deregulation.
It was like wearing weights her whole life, and discovering how far and fast she could run when they were removed.
But the best thing of all was seeing her ‘Uncle’ Hwell waiting with flowers outside her physical counsellor.
“You’re glowin’, darling,” he chirped, presenting the flowers with a cartoon of a bow. And much foppery with an invisible hat. “Good news?”
She grinned. The flowers were lovely. Doe tried not to cling to them possessively. “The best. I’m going to start my menses soon.”
“I could try to schedule a party if ye like,” he breezed. “Got all you need? Any unwanted company you’d like me to see off?”
“Thanks for defending my honour, Uncle… but I’m fine. All the company I have, I want to keep. There is one thing I’d like?”
“Name it, then.”
“I’d… like to adopt the family name of Barrow, please,”
“Aaaaawww… Welcome to the fold, daughter-of-me-heart. That comes with free hugs 'till ye stifle you know.”
His arms always made her feel safe. She rushed into them because she knew he would never hurt her. He always asked first.
“Thanks, Uncle. Thanks for everything.”
“Best. Stowaway. Ever.”
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