The Clear Run

Heat beat on the corrugated roofs of Grafton Yard until the metal ticked like a line of crickets. People stood with plastic barrels and patched jugs, inching toward the spout where the Dry Guild's blue drum bled its ration into cups. Juno kept two tokens in her palm and a strip of cloth over her mouth. The water smelled like pennies and wet wire.

Theo pressed against her side, thin as a rail and buzzed with summer dust. He stared at the drip. 'Do you think they'll pour all day?'

'If they want calm,' Juno said. She watched the uniformed enforcers who guarded the drum. Boots blacked with grease. Little flags tied to their rifle barrels, a sharp blue that hurt the eyes.

Beyond the line rose the Yard: old rail cars turned into homes, patched with billboard vinyl and car hoods. Wind lifted the edges, making them flap like fish gills. Farther off a ferris wheel leaned into the sky, its cars filled with pigeons that muttered and dropped feathers. Generators thumped. Tar smoke rolled from the repair bay where Nadia tuned up a pump with a wrench and a cigarette.

When their turn came, Juno slid one token into the slot. The spout coughed and dribbled. She held the jug steady. Theo peered in, nose wrinkling. 'It smells wrong.'

'It'll boil,' Juno said. 'We'll be fine.' The second token bought them a little more. She tied the jug shut and carried it single-armed. Theo trotted a step behind, counting the cracks in the platform boards.

Their car sat in a row of three, paint melted to dull streaks. Inside, air was cooler. Theo dumped a pocket of pale screws on the table and sorted them by head. 'If I find enough, I can make the tail for the kite.' He pointed at a drawing on the wall, a diamond made from mylar candy wrappers and reeds.

Juno poured a cup of water and sniffed again. The metallic tang climbed up into her throat. She swallowed it anyway, because swallowing felt like defiance. 'After supper,' she said. 'We'll fly it over the Yard.'

A crackled voice rolled across the tracks. A Guild runner on the tannoy. 'Ration lines close at sunset. Any theft is a debt. Any debt is labor.'

Juno eased the cup toward Theo. He hesitated, then drank. A little color came to his mouth. That almost made it worse.

'Old Penn's got his radio working again,' Theo said, licking the last drop from his lip. 'He said he heard a farm that floats. Like a ship, but the ship is clouds.'

'Rumors keep you walking,' Juno said. But she glanced toward the far end of the Yard anyway, where the old dispatcher sat with a tangle of wire around him like a nest.