Taryn yelled excitedly. Maximillia scurried over, a waifish youth, hands in the pockets of her sweater. Her long, dark mane framed a doll-like countenance complete with a mischievous little smile. She tucked a curtain of her long locks behind her ear revealing eyes too big for her head and a smooth, virginal complexion. Her dark eyes beamed brightly and her skinny, bird-like legs—which were shivering in nervous delight—jutted out from beneath her baggy top. “When are they going to get here?” Maximillia asked, brimming with exhilaration. “They’re on their way.” “Do you know where it’s going to be?” “You know that old molecular assembly plant?” Taryn offered. Maximillia’s face crinkled. “But that’s all way out near the sand fields.” “Yup.” Taryn smiled wide. “Way out there. Nothing but surveyors and sand for sixty kilos in every direction.”
