Circus Escape
Circus Escape
Lilliana Rose
Nessie dreams of escaping her sheltered life to become a mechanical engineer with mechas. But wanting and doing are two very different things, and outer confidence hides inner fears—until she meets Joy.
Joy is tough and self-reliant, used to looking out for no one but herself. As her job keeps her always on the move, keeping to herself is the best way to survive. The very last person she expects to break her solitude is the prim and proper Nessie.
Circus Escape
By Lilliana Rose
Published by Less Than Three Press LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.
Edited by Keith Kaczmarek
Cover designed by Aisha Akeju
This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.
First Edition April 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Lilliana Rose
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 9781620043394
To Anna
for seeing the writing in me
Nessie stepped up onto the wooden plank footpath from the dusty street, the thud of her heeled shoes the sound of a woman on a mission. A steambike sped past behind her, stirring up a cloud of dust. Nessie paused to brush the dust from her new ocean blue taffeta dress, and then continued her confident stride along the main street of Deaston, looking for something to amuse her for the afternoon.
"Ma'am." Mr. George, the local jeweller, bobbed his head at Nessie Jenkins as she walked past.
"Good afternoon," replied Nessie, not slowing her allegro pace. She had nowhere to go and no jobs to do, but she detested walking without purpose. There was also Mr. George's reputation. He enjoyed talking about the jewellery he made, and Nessie did not want to be trapped listening to one of his lectures. She continued striding past the hardware store.
No one sat outside on the benches; the heat had sent people inside. The heat did not bother her like some. Besides, she could not stand staying inside the house any longer. Her parents had kept her busy for the last week with accounting, writing campaign speeches and cooking. She had not been able to leave the house … until today. Her mum had retired to her bedroom to sleep off a headache. Nessie took the chance without a second thought and slipped out to go for a walk. It was that or pack her bags and run away. Boredom would do that. Deaston, a small mining colony on the moon S'yra, did not have enough entertainment for Nessie's liking.
Nessie looked ahead down the straight road with wooden two- and three-story shops on either side. It would take fifteen minutes to walk the length of the street, and she was going to enjoy the dusty walk in the sunshine.
A flash of light caught in her peripheral vision. The word 'mecha' burned in her mind.
Nessie stopped.
Her skirt swished around her legs, caught in the forward motion.
Could it really be?
She spun on her black heels and took three steps back to the hardware store and stepped up to the electronic poster board on the shop's wooden wall.
The poster buzzed and the image blurred.
"Piece of cheap …" Nessie thumped the screen with her gloved hand. It morphed between two images, her father's face with his cheesy Mayor-of-the-town grin and a big metal insect.
"Come on." She hit it again. Her pulse increased as she waited.
The image morphed and rippled with an electric buzz before remaining stable.
"Yes!" Nessie smiled.
"
Mighty Mechas Meet in a Mesh of Mega Metal!
" She scanned the poster, excitement concentrating within her chest.
One Night Only
14
th
March 7pm
"That's tonight!" Nessie could not believe she hadn't heard anything about the mecha fight tonight. She loved a good battle performance, especially when it came to mechas. A circus of metal, mayhem and fights stirred the blood in her veins and made her feel alive.
No wonder my parents kept me in the house for the past week
. They did not want her to be a mechanic; it was not becoming of a lady. They'd managed to convince her to stay at Deaston, which meant no one here could teach her the trade. She read anything and everything about mechas, telling herself one day she would find the inner courage to leave.
Arena Aggression unleashed in new models
Nessie held her breath.
New Models
Sally Spider, Cate Crab and Beli Beetle
Come and see them fight each other
Nessie resisted the urge to squeal in excitement.
Finally, something to do
in this town
. She stared at the images, trying to glean more about each mecha.
Sally Spider
.
Eight slender strong legs extended out from a secure rounded body. The metal shone deep silver and circular joints meant each leg could bend individually. Nessie peered closer.
Sally Spider stood solid in the centre of the ring. She glanced at the other two models, Cate Crab and Beli Beetle, but they hadn't captured her curiosity like Sally Spider. Besides, a metal carapace restricted movement and wouldn't be able to fight well. But the spider, now that had some seriously sexy designing behind it. Her hand rested against her neck as she stared at the image. A new heat flared inside of her. "Look at her legs."
"Yeah, they ain't half bad."
Nessie turned to see a woman wearing blue worn overalls with a white t-shirt underneath, one strap undone swinging near her chest, dark hair escaping from a black cap. She balanced a 20kg bag of flour on her shoulder.
"Half bad? They are an engineering miracle," said Nessie. She'd spent hours reading up on the construction of mechas, much to her mother's disapproval. While her mum did needlework in the evening, Nessie read about the mechas and how they were constructed. She planned to learn mechanical engineering one way or another.
"Yep, they are. And their joints can rotate."
"I thought so." Nessie puffed with confidence from what she had managed to learn from simply looking at a photo. "How do you know this?"
"I'm the Operator." The out-of-towner smiled and heaved the bag into a different position on her shoulder.
"Really?" The chance to see a mecha caused Nessie's head to spin pleasantly.
"I can show you the ins and outs of her."
Words evaporated in Nessie's breathless excitement at the chance to touch a mecha.
Pull yourself together
.
"I've got some time now. I'll give you a ride to the arena."
"Yes … yes ... that would be lovely," said Nessie, regaining her composure and remembering her manners she held out her hand. "I'm Nessie."
"Joy." They shook hands. "Pleased ta meet ya."
Nessie felt her knees weaken from the strength that pulsed from Joy's hand into her own.
"Likewise." Nessie looked into Joy's grey eyes which shone back a world of metal and oil, a world that Nessie knew she wanted to be a part of.
"My steambike is just over here."
"Bike?" If things kept improving this quickly, Nessie just knew she would be a melted mess on the floor.
Joy walked over to the steambike made from recycled parts. Slinging the bag of flour over the back of the steambike as if it only weighed a few kilos, Joy strapped it down.
Nessie's face flushed with heat. She took out a handkerchief and patted down her forehead.
"You be careful there, Ms. Jenkins," said Mr. George as he came out of his jewellery shop.
Nessie placed the lace handkerchief back in her ocean blue bag, the one specially made to match her new outfit.
"You know what these circus people are like." His eyes narrowed. "Come inside. I have some ice lemonade to help you cool down. Then I can drive you home in my steamcar. It's air conditioned, you know."
Nessie had no interest in Mr. George's warning, especially right now when she was about to do something out of the ordinary.
"You've got no reason to concern yourself, Mr. George. Good day." With her usual air of confidence, Nessie strode over to the steambike. She could barely keep herself contained and acting like a respectable lady. But ladies didn't ride bikes.
Thank goodness
. This was her first ride on a bike and she planned to enjoy every second.
"Let's go," she said to Joy. Not caring that she wasn't dressed for the ride, she hitched up her skirts, swung her leg over the bike, and then tucked the extra material under her legs out of the way of the engine.
"You're keen," said Joy, wearing goggles that made her eyes look larger. She sat in front of Nessie and revved the bike.
"You've got me excited," answered Nessie.
"That's good to know." Joy reached for Nessie's hands and put them around her waist. "Hold on."
The bike took off with a jerk. The screams of delight Nessie had been holding in burst out from her mouth as the hot wind pushed into her face. Nessie clung to Joy's strong body. She leaned into Joy as they turned off the main street, leaving Deaston in their dusty wake.
*~*~*
Joy slowed down and drove the bike into the roped off area where the Mecha Arena was being built. Men and women worked frantically to construct the arena walls before tonight's performance. She wove between men and women carrying metal panels for the wall.
Nessie tightened her grip around her waist and muffled a scream. The temptation too much, Joy steered the bike around imaginary people just to feel Nessie clench at her body and hear her scream.
Joy drove to the back of the arena.
"You move well with the bike," said Joy. She choked the engine, kicked down the stand down with her boot and slipped off the goggles. A line of dirt marked the shape of the goggles on her face.
Nessie let out a sigh, her breath caressing Joy's skin, resulting in fresh shivers slipping down her spine. Joy paused, enjoying the sensation.
Get a grip
. She swung her leg over the front of the bike to avoid hitting Nessie and stood up.
"I want to do that again," said Nessie, her words breathless as if she'd been exhilarated by the motion of the bike and had tipped over the edge into orgasmic bliss.
"That can be arranged."
"Excellent." Nessie somehow gracefully swung her leg over the bike without revealing her undergarments and went to stand, but stumbled, pleasantly dizzy from the ride.
Joy caught Nessie. "Here, lean on me." She put her arm around Nessie's slender waist. "Take it slow."
"I don't know what's come over me." Nessie leaned on Joy.
Joy felt static electricity spark between them as it travelled through her body, down her back, then down her legs, pooling at her feet.
"I think I'm alright now," said Nessie. But she didn't push away.
Joy held Nessie. "Take your time." Joy inhaled and captured a hint of Nessie's scent: pomegranates.
I could hold you like this all night.
"Well," Nessie breathed out hard as if trying to gain composure. "I believe you have something to show me."
Joy let go. Nessie brushed down her skirt and patted her blonde hair, making sure that everything was in perfect alignment. Joy didn't bother with how she looked. She was used to being covered in dirt, oil and grease. She wouldn't have it any other way.
"Do you think you are ready?" teased Joy.
Nessie muffled a squeal of delight and nodded her head.
"This way." Joy walked towards the garage.
"Oi! Where's that flour?" yelled an oversized man. His large belly stretched the yellow, greasy fabric of the t-shirt he wore.
Joy turned around. "On my bike, right here."
"Well bring it ov'r 'ere if ya want to be fed." He spat in the ground, and then walked off. "Be quick about it."
Joy groaned and walked back to the steambike. "I'd better deliver the flour first."
"You don't have to," said Nessie. "He can wait."
"Yeah, but he's the cook and do ya know how difficult he can make life for me around here?" Joy untied the ropes around the bag of flour. "He could refuse to cook tonight, blame me, and then everyone here will want to skin me alive."
"I can help," offered Nessie.
"I'm fine. Go inside the garage, out of the sun, and wait for me there. I won't be long." Joy slung the bag on her shoulder and walked off. Her job always seemed to get in the way of her efforts to connect with people, at least the sort of people she wanted to connect with. Joy hurried. She wanted to get back to Nessie before she had to start preparing for the fight.
*~*~*
Nessie watched Joy walk away, disappearing into the crowd of workers.
She is amazing
. Nessie turned and looked at the oversized garage. The dark, hundred meter high opening looked like it could swallow her. She shaded her eyes with her hand. A rusty-looking sign above read: "Sally Spider."
