by Vance Huxley
“Fleur tells me I can change the settings by thinking about it.” Lights flickered on the weapon and Hood stared at it. “It talks, sort of.” He lifted his head, listening just as Fleur did. “Ship wants me to hurry, because the fleet is only fifty-one hours out if they intend to decelerate for a docking at the same rate as our ship did. Ship wants me to train, and to test the exterior armament.” Hood stared at Bobby. “I’m learning words and other stuff all the time, pouring into my head. Bledrin hellfire Beebi, what did we do?”
“We lived, Hood. If Fleur and Ship agree, I’d like to get Bells out of there.” Bobby added ship in because the sodin thing already dished out orders. He’d best treat it like some sort of invisible Super for now, act as if it had some say but don’t ask an opinion. The amount of influence that ship might have worried Bobby since he hadn’t a grenade, or the faintest idea where the ship went to shite. “This time I’d like ship to keep out of his head until we can talk to the bledrin Homer.”
“Ship agrees.” Fleur and Hood stood either side of the hidden table as the barrier flickered, then died. Bells lay naked but without a blemish as far as Bobby could see. His eyes snapped open and he sat up. “No!” Bells twisted his hand before pausing for a moment, staring at both hands. Bobby knew why. That twist should have activated the knives in his metal fingers, fingers that weren’t metal any longer.
“Bells.”
The Trooper looked around, taking in Fleur in a skirt with a weird weapon in a holster, Hood in shorts with another, and Bobby still in his bloody, tattered Trooper uniform. He came off the table in a smooth roll. Bobby gaped at the sheer speed of the move, and the dexterity as Bells twisted in mid-air to pluck the weapon from Hood’s holster. Fast though Bells was, Fleur had her own weapon levelled as the man rolled to his feet and lined his capture up on Bobby. “What did you do to me!”
“Saved your worthless life, you bledrin Homer. Now put that down.” Bells stared, hearing the words but not really making sense of them.
Hood grinned. “It won’t work for you, not until Fleur tells it to.” But Bells wasn’t listening to reason. He turned and pulled the trigger, trying to beat Fleur to the shot. Nothing happened.
Fleur smiled and blue lightning writhed and glowed around the muzzle of her weapon. “Mine works.” Bells stared at hers, then his. “Now give Hood his weapon back, listen to Beebi, and you can have one that works.”
“Beebi?” Bells wanted to do something, attack, run, break things, but that lightning looked creepy, wrong, and it held him in place for long moments.
Beebi smiled. “Seriously Bells, do it. She doesn’t need the weapon, not now.”
“What is she, what is Hood? They aren’t right; they’re different. What happened when I went down?” Bells looked down. “Where’s my gear?” He looked around wildly. “Where’s Red?”
“She went to finish the Rangers and Shivas. Now give Hood the gun you prat and get dressed, though Ecarlate might like what she sees if you don’t.” That worked.
Bells looked at himself again and a big grin broke over his face. “You reckon?” He looked at the weapon and threw it to Hood. “Here. It’s broke anyway.” Bobby relaxed because Bells had snapped out of it again though it usually took a lot more once he’d gone viral. Though this time he hadn’t actually got started on the fighting part.
Hood caught the weapon and the wires snapped into place. The blue nimbus formed. “Seems fine to me.”
Bobby cut in before Bells could react to that. “Now get some clothes on and we’ll explain. For now we won, the table fixed you, and we all lived.”
“But Hood and Fleur?” Bells looked down at himself and moved the arm he’d had bound up, the one shot twice and broken. “This has to be a plus. Hey, where’s my metal?” His head came up, eyes wide in alarm again.
“Calm, Bells, remember calm?” Bells stared at Bobby but this time he listened, and gradually did lose the wild-eyed look again. He seemed to rally better when Bobby said he should visit Siflis and Baiser because they were injured, though first he should get some pants on in case Baiser couldn’t restrain herself. Bells grinned and pointed out he’d have to risk it since his pack and pants were in the sick bay anyway.
* * *
As they escorted Bells, Bobby told Pepee to take a break from guard duty and get some rest because there were no more enemies on the ship. Fleur seemed certain of that, and since she’d known about a mystery man two miles away Bobby believed her. Bobby used the delay while Bells got dressed to contact Magpie. He figured if everyone else had died, he may as well go back to using coms.
The mystery blue spot had been found tied up, apparently a captive of the Rangers’ alliance even if he wore a SEPA uniform. Neither Ecarlate nor Magpie could understand a word he said. Magpie hesitated before asking about Hood, and then wanted to come back to see him when Bobby confirmed her lover would live. She reluctantly agreed it might be best to stay put until Bells came to stand guard on the engines, though how Bells could do that confused her.
Bobby didn’t want to go into that at long range, so he asked about the fight. The Ranger waiting by the engines had been the one Bobby shot with his finger, in a bad way but alive and armed so the women took no chances. The other two, running from Fleur, had died before even realising they’d been ambushed. The women found very little food in the spacesuit backpacks so impending starvation might have prompted the attack. Magpie reported that Ecarlate seemed to be fine. She kept playing with some swords she’d found and fancied keeping them.
Bobby promised Bells would relieve them both, soon, and assured Magpie again that Hood had survived. By then Bells had put on clean shorts and a tee-shirt because he’d lost his uniform on the table. He didn’t seem bothered about not having more clothes, more interested in touching the places his metal had been joined on. Like most of the Basteds he’d not worn civvie clothes except as disguises for ten years so didn’t bring any on the mission. After enough explanation Fleur spoke to Bells in his head, or so she told Bobby. Bells tensed, but listened to her and then Hood as ship connected them. Finally, ship spoke to him.
“I’m heavy muscle for Fleur. The, er, ship is worried about the fighting in here and wants it all stopped.” Bells frowned. “I thought it was all stopped? You said everyone else is dead.”
“We’re done for now but there’s the best part of three hundred Troopers on the way. If they’re anything like the rest of Beebi’s Basteds they’ll be expecting a ruck.” Bobby sighed. “Are you all right now, because Magpie wants to come and check on Hood?” Bobby grinned. “Ecarlate might want to stay there with you when she sees you dressed like that.”
Bells grinned back. “Yeah, I’m Oke. Just as long as it’s like Fleur says, and ship stays outta my head most of the time. I don’t mind Fleur because that’s like coms talking, sort of, and she’s a sarge anyway so she’s in charge. Or she is if you say so, Beebi?”
“I do. Now go and get some of that fancy gear and sod off so I can rest.”
“Wimp.”
“I am among you three, but you’re still the Homer.” Hood left to sort out the bodies and put the captured weapons in a bin out of the way, since he felt fine now. Opening bins wasn’t a problem for Hood now because he could ask the bledrin things to unlock. Bobby watched Bells follow Fleur and thought about that, and the wimp thing. The three of them could talk to each other without speaking, anyplace on the ship, and were all fitter and stronger than any man Bobby had met. Bobby considered getting an upgrade himself, but still didn’t fancy it unless he ended up wounded. He sat on the bin by the ladder room and checked his various aches, pains and numerous flesh wounds while sipping water for his throat.
“What is that?” Bobby stared at the apparition that had to be Bells, until the visor slid up and disappeared.
Bells grinned. “Muscle.” He rapped the bronze, scaled, articulated armour with a gauntleted knuckle. “Those rockets will bounce off this and so will solid rounds. I’ve got my own gun, and the knives
and the rest, and then there’s this.” He clenched his gauntlet and spikes grew from the knuckles. “What do you think? Will Red like it?”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “It won’t help if she does. She’ll never get through that to do anything about it unless she’s got a hacksaw.”
“Watch and learn.” Bobby concentrated. The armour seemed to flow until it disappeared into thick wrist and ankle bands, a collar and a belt. He concentrated again and the armour flowed back out. “Can I go and show Red?”
Bobby nodded. “You can relieve her and Magpie if your new boss says so, and Ecarlate can stay and admire you if she wants.” Bells frowned, opened his mouth to answer and stopped, listening.
He turned to Fleur. “Yes Sarge.” The Trooper strode into the lift tube and shot upwards.
Bobby shook his head. “Is all that necessary? That gun alone should deal with anything coming on the rockets from Earth. That machete or sword thing, all those knives and a bledrin great axe seem a bit over the top? A whole bandolier of throwing knives is excessive even for Bells.” Though Bobby thought Magpie might want one.
“Ship doesn’t want any more damage if we can avoid it. The armour will stop any weapon he’ll face, and then Bells can walk up to the Trooper firing it and kill them without tearing pieces from the walls.” Fleur sniggered. “Anyway, Bells likes all that sharp steel. It makes him feel properly armed.”
“What about you? Don’t you get armour and a lot of sharp stuff since you’re the security officer?” Bobby laughed. “You sound like a Super, on about stopping property damage. Do I call you sluur?”
“No.” Fleur whispered her reply, soft and uncertain. “I don’t want armour, or to be a Super. I want you to remember Fleur amie, your copine?”
“I can hardly forget Fleur amie, or copine, dressed like that. Though you’ll have to explain the difference if you’re a copine now.”
This smile seemed stronger, and her voice more certain. “I can do that later, after you rest. I can carry on because I had a long sleep when you saved me, or it seemed like I did. I must check that the weapons are stowed and the rest of our people are all right.” She moved closer. “Will you check I am still femme, a woman? Hold me a moment?”
Bobby did, and kept holding as she took him up the lift to get his rest, then assured her she still felt like a woman. Her speed startled Bobby when she shot down the hole and he worried about what else Fleur might be. Fleur really worried about being human and a woman, worried enough that he wondered what it felt like inside her skin. Did she have a pulse, or a heartbeat? He hadn’t dare check if she still lived when he’d left her on that table, and Bells had looked dead when Fleur carried him in. What happened if Bobby told her one thing, and ship said another? Then exhaustion crashed back in and Bobby lay down and slept.
Breach of Contract
Bobby half-roused when Fleur came back to help him up, then out of his clothes. Giggling, she gestured and a panel slid aside. The alcove probably wasn’t made for two, and the shower didn’t seem quite right without water, but whatever flowed over him seemed to leave Bobby’s skin fresh and tingling. It definitely woke him up. So did Fleur, pressed against him and murmuring French words as she rubbed away at the scratches. Fleur giggled again as she felt him against her, and began to kiss his neck.
They left the alcove still entwined, though Bobby thought she half carried him to the bed. “You want some poochy now, Beebi Basted?” Her voice sounded low and throaty, and her accent thickened, and yes, Bobby really wanted some poochy even if it hurt like hell.
Though he hesitated because he’d got to like the other stuff, the ami stuff and didn’t want to lose it. “I thought you said l’amoor for an ami, boyfriend? You said you didn’t want to pooch, that you’d show me what the l’amoor thing means?”
Fleur stopped kissing, and froze for a moment. “Even though, I am… Even after what happened. In spite of what I am now?” She sighed and melted into him. “Mais oui, Beebi copain. I will show you l’amour.” She giggled. “But first, Pepee gave me la capote, a sheath and cream so I won’t hurt you. Then I can teach you l’amour, properly.” Fleur’s new, better Anglic had disappeared at the thought of l’amour.
“I’m already sure I’ll enjoy the French lesson, even if it does hurt.”
It had been over six months, so l’amour didn’t take long even if the build-up seemed a lot longer and a lot more fun than the usual Diva poochy. Laying together afterwards, talking and stroking and cuddling, felt nothing like Diva pooching. “Did you like l’amour? Did I feel right, like a Diva?”
“Better than any Diva, I swear. Why are you so worried?” Bobby suddenly realised he might be wrong about Fleur’s reactions, they might just be her training. “Didn’t you feel right, or like it, the l’amoor?” He only just avoided asking if she felt anything, because Fleur hadn’t felt half a clip of solid flechettes hitting her chest.
“Yes, I can feel everything. Better.” Her low laugh sounded really happy and contented. “I was worried that maybe I am metal under the skin now, all metal, but metal could never feel so good. I am all new and you are my first, Beebi.” Bobby laid and listened as Fleur explained how worried she’d been about the flechettes and the lightning, and talking to ship. How she’d kissed him and kept asking, and still wasn’t sure. How she’d worried ship made her into another robot, like the cleaning ones. Now everything would be all right, because metal couldn’t feel like this, no man could make metal feel good and metal blood run hot.
Bobby murmured words of encouragement now and again, and stroked and hugged, and let her talk. He didn’t know what else to do. Divas didn’t talk apart from poochy words, and Magpie certainly didn’t talk about this stuff. Bobby did wonder if Hood might be having a talk like this with Magpie, or Bells with Ecarlate. Eventually Fleur wound down and told him to sleep. She might not, but would rest which would be the same. Then she closed her eyes and seemed to go to sleep the same as she had on previous nights. Bobby smiled. Not quite the same since there were no silk shorts under his hand.
* * *
In the morning Fleur seemed much more content, smiling quietly and humming something as they ‘showered’ and dressed. When Bobby and Fleur came out of the drop-shaft a group waited for them, but Bobby didn’t have chance to ask why. “I want some of what she got.” Magpie pointed at Fleur and Bobby’s mind whirled. Did Magpie mean the metal upgrade or l’amour stuff? Magpie must have learned to mind-read. “Some of that as well, you smug looking basted.”
“Are you sure? You’ll get ship in your head.”
“Ship left my head when I asked, last night.” That might explain her loss of Anglic when she started on about l’amour. Bobby glanced over and yes, Fleur looked a bit smug.
“I don’t care about ship or the knives table and lightning thing, I want my legs back!” Magpie’s face started to crumple and the rest became almost a wail. “Hood wants my legs back.”
Bobby glared at Hood and he raised both hands. “I told Magpie it’s up to her because I Io… I fancy her anyway and once you know, she heals?”
Magpie pointed. “She’s healed everywhere already and that’s another reason.”
“But I don’t know what ship will do to you. It wanted internal security and someone to man the cannons, but you could end up stuck in the engine room or somewhere you’ll never see Hood. Let’s get the airlocks blocked first and then sort this out.” Bobby wanted time to think about changing more people. He’d had visions of them being adapted to plug into drones for scouting or having hands that were spanners and screwdrivers. Worse, he felt sure the ship couldn’t possible reverse what it had done if Magpie didn’t like the result, not enough to put her old metal legs back on. To top it all, Bobby didn’t know how Guns would react to meeting people who soaked up steel flechettes and came back with lightning bolts.
“I have locked all the airlocks. They will only open on my personal command.” Fleur smirked and waggled her fingers. “Internal Security Officer.”
<
br /> Bobby stared. “How do I contact Guns or Control?”
Fleur wiggled her fingers again. “I will open one.” She frowned, thinking. “Maybe ship can send the message, to save going outside?”
“That’s better coming from my transmitter, or Aggie might not accept it.”
“So that’s sorted. Now can I get my legs back?” Behind Magpie a pale-looking Baiser seemed really interested in repair as well. Pepee, and Ecarlate who must have returned at some time in the night, didn’t seem so sure. Siflis shook his head when Bobby looked over. That meant there’d be four who were free of ship’s voice, so they’d be the best four to meet Guns and whoever the Frogs, Francais, sent.
“All right. From what I just saw, Baiser and Magpie want to get the upgrade. Anyone else?” Pepee shook her head as did Siflis, though Ecarlate hesitated for a while before she shook hers. “If someone changes their mind, come and see me.” Bobby looked at Baiser and Magpie as seriously as possible. “I don’t think you get the option of changing your mind afterwards, the other way.”
Magpie moved over to hug Hood. “Why would I?” Baiser just shrugged, then winced and swayed and put a hand to her head.
Pepee glanced up the corridor, towards one of the water and bog rooms. “What about the prisoner?”
“No.” Bobby wanted to know a lot more about the man before giving him this sort of power. “I’d forgotten about him. Will he survive without?”
“He’s got some cuts and grazes but his injuries are mainly bruising, though he really has been hammered. I locked him in a bog room with some food. It’ll take me to let him out.” Hood waggled his fingers, copying Fleur. She wiggled hers back and he lost the smirk. “Or Fleur. She has a security override.”
“Fleur, will you take Magpie and Baiser to get their legs upgraded?” Bobby thought that sounded a reasonable way to put it, better than rebuilt or wired up. Fleur beckoned to the pair and headed for the hospital. “Will the table know what to do?”
