Chapter Text
Eruptive lightnings flutter to and fro
Above the heights of immemorial hills;
Thirst-stricken air, dumb-throated, in its woe
Limply down-sagging, its limp body spills
Upon the earth. A panting silence fills
The empty vault of Night with shimmering bars
Of sullen silver, where the lake distils
Its misered bounty.—Hark! No whisper mars
The utter silence of the untranslated stars.
e. e. cummings
***
Furiosa wasn’t at the Citadel when he finally returned, almost one hundred days after he’d seen her for the last time, a tower of strength and courage rising above the Wretched.
He reckoned it was well-deserving. He’d come back with the sole intent to see her again, and she wasn’t there. He’d thought about the moment of his return a thousand times during the long, lonely, nightmare-filled nights in the Wasteland, but her not being there had never crossed his mind.
It was Toast who first spotted him. She was on patrol with a group of War Boys and stopped one of them from shooting him when she recognized the black Imperator scarf he still wore. She was wise enough to tell them to hold back and approach him alone.
“Took you long enough, Fool.”
“Name’s Max,” he said, almost inaudibly.
“Fool suits you best, after what you did. Furiosa’s always read people well.”
She was nothing but observant. She did not miss the glint in his eyes when he heard her name.
“In case you’re wondering, and I know you are, she’s okay. Still healing, but okay. She’ll be glad to see you, although I cannot see why.” She spoke with unconcealed bitterness. Max couldn’t blame her. “Are you hurt? Did you get into any sort of trouble?”
He felt his chest tightening a bit, realizing she’d thought he’d come back out of need. Well, he actually had. But he wouldn’t say that to Toast. Hell, he would probably never say that, period.
“M’ fine. No trouble.”
“Well, are you coming with me, or did you just feel like taking a look and scurrying back into the desert?”
“I…” He hesitated. He hadn’t thought that far. He’d imagined Furiosa would be the one who met him out there, and once seeing her and making sure she was still alive and well, he could get back into his ride and leave.
“That thing still working? Have you got guzzoline?”
“Hm. Yeah.”
“Then follow me. I haven’t got all night. The boys are probably getting restless. I’ll take you to Capable.”
“Red hair. Goggles.”
“That’s right. She’ll give you whatever you need, but right now I’d say priorities are food and a good scrub. You look absolutely disgusting.”
Max was baffled. Well, maybe she was right. His hair hadn’t grown that much but the beard was starting to bother him a little.
“Come on, let’s go.”
He followed her to the gates, and she dismounted her bike, waving to one of the boys standing guard to approach them.
“Hi, Wrench. This is Max. He’s a good friend of the Imperator’s and you must take good care of his wheels, got me?”
Wrench looked at Max’s car as if it was something beyond repair, but merely nodded.
Max didn’t look like he wanted to leave his car in a stranger’s hand. Toast took pity on him.
“Don’t worry. Wrench’s our best. If someone can salvage this wreck, it is him.”
Max looked offended, but didn’t say anything. She led him through narrow passageways and long corridors, and the rise seemed endless to him. But it was okay, it was worth his trouble – he tried not to think of a branding iron and a cage – if he could only see her alive and breathing – maybe that would drive some of his nightmares away.
Toast opened a door and he heard the sound of… giggling?
The dark-haired girl – Cheedo, his memory whispered to him – had a book in her hands and was reading to the others. Capable was laughing heartily, and Dag was holding her hand over her mouth, looking amused.
“Now listen,” – said Cheedo. “This is just priceless! ‘I am perfectly serious in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who would make you so’. Ha! She actually told the useless idiot he was just… an useless idiot.”
Toast huffed from the door. She had no patience for that reading nonsense. The three girls jumped, and suddenly Max felt very self-conscious.
Cheedo stared at him, dumbfounded. She looked like she was seeing a ghost.
Dag made a funny movement with her hand and smiled.
Capable’s eyes filled with tears and she stood up. “I had been wondering” – she said softly – “how long you’d take to come home”. She walked to him, slowly, careful of every step. “But I always knew you would.”
Max shuffled his feet and ran a nervous hand over his hair. He didn’t know what to say. Where is she?
Capable touched his hand, so softly he could have imagined it. “I’ll take you to your room. One of the boys will bring you food and after that you can have a bath at the communal pool. I’ll find you some scissors and a razor, too.”
His room?
She seemed to understand his puzzled look. “Furiosa had a room set for you when we rearranged the accommodations. She has an office in the Vault, but we have all moved out of there. Joe used the quarters on this level to welcome his guests, and we are comfortable here. I think you’ll like it,” she rambled. Max had stopped paying attention half way through. Where is she?
He looked around. Toast had disappeared, Cheedo was looking at him fondly and Dag was playing with her hair. He stared at Capable.
“Oh. Furiosa isn’t here, Max. I thought Toast had told you. She went on a diplomatic mission to Gastown with Ace and some of the surviving members of her crew. Relations with Gastown are still shaky, but with the People Eater gone, they have set up a council and are willing to talk. She’s supposed to come back in a few days.”
So he had been right in his assessment of the situation. The survivors would eventually make their way back to the Citadel, for better or worse. He felt relieved, since apparently their loyalty to her was unchanged.
Capable sensed his disappointment. “She’ll be really happy to see you. She doesn’t say anything, but we all know she misses you. And honestly, we do, too,” she added candidly.
Max looked into her eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. Nothing there but tenderness and understanding, and behind that, a steely will he had to acknowledge and admire. She was remarkable.
“Hm. I… I’m glad you’re okay. You’ve done well here.”
Capable smiled and took his arm gently. “Come with me. Cheedo, can we continue later? Dag, would you find Max some herbal soap and maybe some ointment? I’m sure there must be a wound or two under the dirt.”
He grunted, but followed her without complaint. Suddenly, the idea of washing and eating a hot meal seemed very, very appealing. He was frustrated, but Furiosa wouldn’t come back any sooner if he refused the girls’ hospitality.
Capable took him to a room at the end of a long corridor. It was small, but it had an opening on the rock wall with a view to the desert, and he was touched. She must have had handpicked it for him, thinking of his need for solitude and his yearning for the road. There was a thin mattress with well-worn, thick blankets on one side of the room, and a table and chair on the other.
He took his jacket and his boots off and sat down on the mattress. Capable shook her head. He looked definitively exhausted.
“I’ll have one of the boys bring you dinner,” she said. We’ve been doing some experiments with the seeds the old Vuvalini gave to Dag. It’s not much yet, but the food is actually tasty.”
Max realized she was feeding him with tiny bits of information here and there. He was actually eager to know, but couldn’t bring himself to ask, so he was thankful.
She smiled again and turned to leave, but he stopped her.
“Hm – C-Capable?”
He had never called any of them by name. Capable’s blue eyes widened.
“Yes, Max?”
“Er – um – thank you.”
“You’re always welcome.”
***
The former War Boy who brought him the food also handed him a cracked porcelain basin with warm water and a sweet-smelling bar of soap – he could at least wash his hands before his meal, something which seemed strangely familiar and utterly alien for him. His dinner consisted of a thick broth and a bowl of milk – he wondered if the Milking Mothers were still at work.
He finished eating and walked to the tiny opening in the rock. The Wasteland was out there, illuminated by a thousand stars, but for the first time in many days he didn’t feel like answering its call.
Bathing could wait. Max laid down on top of the mattress and fell into a dreamless, deep sleep.
***
He was woken by the sound of steps just outside the door. Instinct made him go for his weapons, but there wasn’t any at reach. Which was good, because shooting one of Furiosa’s boys on his first day back would probably cause trouble.
A Pup opened the door. He should be about four thousand days old, and Max realized the boy wasn’t sure how to address him.
“It’s okay,” he said. “Come in. I’m Max.”
“I’m Tray,” said the boy. “Hello.”
The Pup had brought him breakfast – a round, red fruit and another bowl of milk. “Miss Capable asked me to wait until you finished and see you to the bathing pool,” he informed. “She said you should tell me if there is anything you need. And Miss Toast said you can come down and see what Wrench is doing with your car.”
Max nodded. He ate quickly – it was quite unnerving to have a Pup waiting on him. The little boy took him to the bathing pool on one of the lower levels, and Max was relieved to notice it was empty. Only then he realized the time of the day. It was almost noon. He had slept for over ten hours.
The Pup brought him a pair of scissors and a sharp razor, and he reckoned they’d come from Dag. Capable had sent him a change of clothes, so he decided to wash his old shirt and trousers. A bar of the same sweet-smelling soap from the previous night made shaving easy and he was actually pleased to feel clean again. There were some not-quite-healed wounds here and there, but nothing too uncomfortable. His brace, on the other hand, was a little rusty and some oiling would do it a world of good.
He made his way back to his bedroom and found his jacket and pistol gone.
Just when he was about to panic, Cheedo came into the room.
“Oh, hi, Max! You look… good,” she said.
He didn’t answer, but pointed out at the table where he’d left his things. Cheedo laughed.
“Sorry about that. Your jacket needed some good cleaning and your pistol was, according to Toast, an accident waiting to happen. She said it’s a miracle it didn’t jam and backfire on you. You’re also out of ammo. She said she’s gonna take care of it and you owe her for it.”
Max grunted and nodded.
“Oh, and we have news from Furiosa.”
He was putting on the black boots Capable had left for him –he’d identified them as the kind the War Boys used to wear – but his head shot up when he heard her name. Cheedo grinned.
“She sent a party back. Negotiations are going well so she guessed they’d be more useful here. Ace and Marshall are with her, but the other boys all came back.”
“Um… when is she coming back?”
“In a couple of days. The boys say the Gastown folks are actually eager to make a deal. They can’t drink guzzoline, and we have plenty of water and milk, and will soon have a lot of food as well. Dag is doing a great job and the Vuvalini know one or two tricks of their own.”
“Is there anything I can do? Like, I could maybe help the boys at the garage?” Max needed to keep himself occupied, or else he’d end up going to Gastown on foot.
“That seems like a great idea. We need all the hands we can get. Toast and Ace are supervising the building of a new Rig, and maybe you could be of use. Besides, Capable said something about your car being there.”
“Yeah, with some Wrench guy.”
“He’s our best mechanic, but he’s a bit too full of himself. Thinks some rides are below him. But Toast is very quick in showing him his place.”
“The boys must dread her. Hell, she scares me.”
“She’s actually a darling.”
Max shot her a doubtful look.
“Anyway, if you’re ready, I’ll show you the way.”
***