Page 37 of Factory Controller

“Then why are they staring so hard?”

“Because you’re so white. You’re exotic, like an animal in the zoo.”

“What happens after our bath?”

“I’m not sure. We could continue on our way, but it’s starting to get dark. The chief has invited us to remain for the night. Apparently, his daughter is getting…married, I guess. And the more guests there are the luckier the union will be. Or something. My Arawak’s a bit rusty.”

Heather’s eyes narrow. “Then why in the hell are you not accepting?”

“Well, I guess I don’t want to put these people in danger. If we found this village, it’s quite likely that the mercenaries pursuing us can do so as well. Spears don’t mean much against guns.”

Heather scoffs. “My friend’s grandfather fought in Vietnam. He was a helicopter pilot who lost his leg when his craft went down. Would you like to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because someone shot the rear propeller assembly with a bow and arrow. A bow and arrow took down a multi-million-dollar aircraft armed to the teeth. Disease and destruction of their environment conquered the natives, not better tech or tactics.”

“I stand corrected. Still, it’s our problem and I’d hate to bring trouble to them.”

“True enough, but…I really don’t want to spend another night in the jungle. I’m exhausted.”

“I guess it would be rude to leave before the wedding…speaking of which, I think that’s the happy couple now.”

She follows my gaze to a hut near the pond’s edge. A young man stands under an opening, wearing ceremonial bangles and an elaborate headdress. I can just see a very young woman within, smiling broadly as she speaks to the groom.

Their happiness is so strong, it’s palpable. Damn near knocks me over. I look over at Heather and think about the future. What if after all this is over she returns to her hometown, and leaves me forever?

That mere thought makes me sad.

HEATHER

The village women were kind enough to wash our clothing and hang it to dry, though I’m pretty sure there are stains that are never coming out. We’ve been provided with clothing to wear in the interim, if you can call it that.

Trent looks good in a loincloth. Really good. It’s hard to appreciate how muscular his legs are until they’re exposed in all their glory. Magnificent. Of course, it’s easy to look good half naked when you’re built like a professional bodybuilder.

Me, on the other hand? I’m a six-foot clumsy giraffe. I don’t feel anything but horribly exposed in a cloth skirt that bares my hips and the flimsiest of cloth across my breasts. Most of the women don’t bother wearing a top in this village, so I assume it was included as a courtesy.

“Come on, Heather,” Trent says, motioning for me to come out of the hut. “The ceremony is about to start.”

“You go on without me.”

“What? Why?”

“I’ll just wait until my real clothes dry.”

“Oh come on, I bet you look amazing.”

“You would, because you’re a dirty-minded male. I just feel like you’re going to be disappointed.”

“I doubt that. C’mon, Heather. Once you drink enough happy juice, you won’t even care that you’re mostly naked.”

I sigh and push the reed curtain aside. Trent’s eyes go wide, and he can’t resist running his gaze up and down my exposed body.

“Wow. You look incredible.”

“Thank you.” I can’t quite meet his gaze. “So where do we sit for the wedding?”

“Sit?” Trent laughs. “This is one of those active participation type deals. Follow me and we’ll get you a torch.”

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