Cyborg Legacy

by Lindsay Buroker

  “It was indeed.” Leonidas smiled faintly at Jasim and rested a hand on her shoulder.

  Maddy beamed back at him. Jasim shook his head ruefully, fairly certain Leonidas had just assured that hat would find its way to him, no matter how far out in the system his freighter flew. Perhaps a scarf too. The consequences of being pleasant. A word Jasim never thought he would attribute to his old commander.

  “What are you repossessing next?” Leonidas asked him.

  “There’s still a yacht waiting for us,” Maddy said. “A real beauty from what I saw in the vids. I might have to try one of the bathtubs and rub myself all over one of those big beds with its luxury sheets before we take it back to Earl.”

  Leonidas blinked at the back of her head and lowered his hand.

  “Pilots are an odd lot,” Jasim told him.

  “I’ve noticed that before.”

  Maddy flicked a hand toward them. “Nobody’s odder than you cyborgs.”

  “If you get tired of repossessing yachts,” Leonidas told Jasim, “I might know someone somewhere who could help you land a position in your chosen field.”

  Jasim swallowed, touched by the offer, if only because it meant that, somewhere along the way, Leonidas had decided he was worth helping.

  “Or,” Leonidas continued, “you could go into business for yourself.”

  “As a teacher?” Jasim hadn’t heard of many entrepreneurial teachers and couldn’t imagine how it would work.

  “Our science officer—the lady you met at the station—records informative videos about her interests and puts them on the sys-net. She has all manner of people who watch them and request private tutoring sessions with her.”

  “Your freighter has a science officer?” Maddy asked while Jasim mulled over Leonidas’s suggestion.

  “Technically, she’s also our children’s tutor, but she’s had numerous opportunities to pursue her research while aboard the ship. Our travels sometimes take us to interesting parts of the system. She enjoys studying the local flora and fauna. And fungi.”

  “Is that what she teaches about?” Jasim asked.

  Leonidas hesitated. “More or less.”

  Jasim arched his brows, suspecting he wasn’t getting the full story. What were worm castings for, anyway?

  “I’ll send you her sys-net island, and you can visit it, watch her vids. Get some ideas, maybe. Though I suggest you teach something you’re passionate about.”

  “I got my best marks in early childhood education and psychology. And physical education.” Jasim waved at one of his meaty arms, his lips twisting wryly. How not?

  “Teaching exercises or self-defense would perhaps be an obvious choice, and it would certainly be easy to establish yourself as an authority on the subject. But—” Leonidas’s eyes glinted with amusement, “—a hulking cyborg giving children tips on reading and math could be enough of a novelty that people would talk about it, spread the word.”

  “Hm.” Jasim had to admit the idea had some appeal. He had never imagined himself teaching over the sys-net instead of in person, but he could start recording videos while still working in his current employment, and thus have the security of an income while making a name for himself in the education field. Also, children—and parents—might be far less intimidated by him if they were interacting with him through a video pickup instead of in person. Maybe he could even wear one of Maddy’s tasseled hats to appear less threatening.

  “The next time you have leave from work,” Leonidas said, “and after you’ve figured out a curriculum for an initial series of videos, you could come out to the Nomad. I have some students that you could teach, students who aren’t even faintly intimidated by large men with big muscles. Or anything else.”

  Jasim almost gaped at him. He remembered Leonidas saying his wife had wanted to invite him to dinner, but nothing in the way he’d spoken had suggested he agreed with the notion. But now, an invitation to come out to his ship? Leonidas must truly have decided that Jasim was a worthwhile comrade, a worthwhile person. Maybe, just maybe, if Jasim could convince one stodgy military officer that he was worth working with, he could convince others. After feeling disillusioned and defeated for so long, he now found himself ready for the challenge.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Should I bring splat pads and whoopee cushions?”

  Leonidas’s eyes narrowed.

  “To amuse the children and win them over to my side,” Jasim explained.

  “Well, that would probably win my wife over to your side.”

  “It sounds like you’re surrounded by comedians,” Jasim said. “Perhaps that’s what has allowed you to develop a sense of humor. You weren’t known for that back in the battalion, you know.”

  Leonidas lifted his chin. “Those among the upper echelon were not unaware of my wit.”

  “No doubt why we so often heard raucous laughter coming from the officers’ billets,” Jasim said dryly, distinctively not remembering that.

  “Ah, there we go,” Maddy said, turning in her seat and reaching for the knitting basket. “The autopilot is engaged. Now I can get back to my gift. Cyborg, lower your big head down here, will you? I need to check my measurements.”

  “I can already tell the tassels need to be longer,” Jasim said with a smirk.

  Leonidas’s already narrowed eyes narrowed further. Jasim seriously doubted any of the Cyborg Corps officers would attest to the former colonel having been witty back then. Despite the slitted eyes and the glare, Leonidas bent at the waist, lowering his head for Maddy. She whistled cheerfully as she placed the hat on his head.

  “If you guest host any of my videos,” Jasim said, “I expect you to wear that.”

  “I expect you’ll be wearing one too,” Leonidas said.

  “I could knit a special one that would be sure to make children find you appealing,” Maddy said, smiling at Jasim as she adjusted Leonidas’s hat.

  “Uh,” Jasim said.

  “An excellent idea,” Leonidas said, the gleam returning to his eyes.

  • • • • •

  The tassels were obnoxious, but it was the puffy balls dangling at the ends of several of them that took the hat into the ridiculous category. Still, Leonidas donned it as he walked through the airlock tube toward the Star Nomad. The children would like it, assuming they were aboard. The freighter had already been docked at Starfall Station when the Interrogator had arrived. Alisa could have taken the family for a shopping trip or to see the sights, such as they were. Leonidas vaguely remembered a null gravity zoo featuring creatures adapted for the environment.

  The sounds of laughter and shouts drifted to him, and he smiled. The children were home. Good. He had missed his family, far more than he expected, especially considering it had only been a couple of weeks. He almost laughed at himself, remembering how eager he had been to escape and have a side adventure. In the future, when he felt fraught, he would simply plan a short vacation that didn’t involve killing people. And he would make sure to bring Alisa along. Jasim had been a capable comrade, but Alisa was capable, too, and she was someone he could confide his feelings in, his distress at losing old colleagues, his surprise at how well he remembered them all, even after years with little to no contact.

  “Daddy’s home,” came an exuberant cry as soon as he stepped through the airlock hatch.

  Maya and Nika were both there, drawing on the deck with paint sticks of various colors. And drawing on their faces and clothes, too, if those green and blue streaks were an indication. Leonidas hoped that was a parentally approved activity and that the paints washed off easily.

  “With a hat,” Nika cried.

  The girls dropped their sticks and raced toward him. Leonidas swooped them up, one in each arm, where they could and did plant kisses on his cheeks. One moist palm patted his nose, and he suspected he would find a blue smudge there next time he passed a mirror. He murmured greetings to the girls, agreeing to a request that he join them for painting later, then lifted hi
s head and nodded toward Ostberg, who was feeding the chickens and probably babysitting. He waved exuberantly. His face was smudged, too, though that looked more like chocolate than paint. The smell of cookies baking wafted down from the mess hall. Jelena skipped out onto the walkway, carrying a plate, and his nostrils twitched in that direction. He had shared his brownies with Maddy and Jasim, so they had disappeared a while ago. Hard-working cyborgs needed a steady supply of baked goods.

  “What have you two been doing?” Leonidas asked the twins, who were already tugging on his tassels. Maya nibbled experimentally on one of the goofy balls. She hadn’t grown out of her phase of putting everything into her mouth yet. He hoped there weren’t any chemicals in the wool.

  “Art,” Nika said proudly, looking down at their scribbles from her new lofty perch.

  “I appreciated the art you sent along with me,” Leonidas said. He’d had no idea what the pictures denoted, but he’d appreciated them nonetheless.

  Jelena set the cookie plate down on the stairs and came over and hugged him. He did his best to return the gesture while holding the twins. Jelena had written him a letter, much as her mother had, though the content had been significantly different from what Alisa had penned. Mostly highlighting the merits of bringing back a horse if he saw one. She’d had that passion for as long as he had known her, and he and Alisa were starting to wonder if she would choose to become a veterinarian or something else that involved working with animals as a career.

  “No horses?” Jelena asked.

  “Sorry, not on Dustor. I think they’d eat horses if they showed up there.”

  “Ew, Dad.” Jelena swatted him.

  “I did bring something,” Leonidas said.

  “Presents!” Nika said.

  Maya was still sampling the tassel balls and did not comment. Maybe she thought they were like scoops of ice cream and would have different flavors.

  “I told you,” Jelena informed them, grinning and stepping back.

  As he set the twins down and dipped into his jacket pockets, he was aware of Alisa strolling out onto the walkway. He handed bags of moon rock candies to Maya and Nika—safe items to go into their mouths—and they raced off to compare colors and flavors. Jelena raised her eyebrows.

  “Are you too old to be interested in candy?” Leonidas asked.

  “I don’t know. What’s the alternative?” Her gaze drifted upward to his hat. “Not that, I hope.”

  “This is a designer original. One of a kind.”

  “It’s big.”

  “It was made to fit my head.”

  “That explains its size. I’m not sure it explains the tassels.”

  “I don’t think anything explains the tassels.” Leonidas opened his jacket, plucking a long tube from an inner pocket. “There was an artist on the station with some prints. She signed this one for you.”

  “Is it a horse?” Jelena grabbed the tube and popped open the end cap.

  “Close. It’s a space unicorn, which is apparently a flying horse with wings and a horn.”

  Jelena unrolled the print and examined it. “She’s beautiful.” She carefully returned it to the tube, then flung her arms around Leonidas. “I’m going to put her above my bunk. Thank you!”

  She ran off, hopping over the plate of cookies, and bumping Alisa as they passed on the stairs.

  Alisa picked up the plate and headed over.

  “Are there going to be stories?” Nika called over, her words somewhat mangled as she chewed on the taffy insides of one of the moon rocks.

  “Yes, at dinner,” Leonidas said. That would give him time to edit out the gruesome details. Maybe he would simply tell the adventure of the pirate attack.

  “Did you bring me anything?” Alisa asked, sashaying as she drew close, the plate prominently displayed.

  Leonidas wasn’t sure whether she meant to entice him with the cookies or with herself. Perhaps both. He was amenable to both, but he first plucked a cookie off the plate.

  “I thought your gift could be the fact that I didn’t bring a real horse,” he said.

  “Please, that’s your gift. You’d have to shovel the droppings if we had a horse onboard.”

  “I? Is that a job for a security officer and co-owner of the business?”

  “It’s a job for the man with the biggest muscles.”

  Alisa set the cookie plate on a crate, stepped close, and laid a hand on his chest. To fondle his muscles, he thought with anticipation, but when her fingers drifted, it was to search inside his jacket pockets.

  “Ah ha,” she said, her hand grazing a pocket. “What’s this? Something hard.”

  “Yes, and since the children are nearby, I’ll refrain from making an innuendo about hardness.”

  Alisa snorted. “If you kept your innuendo equipment in your jacket pocket, I’d be truly alarmed at the alterations the imperials did to you when they were operating.”

  “But you’d still love me, right?”

  “In an alarmed way.” She slid her hand into the pocket and extracted three chocolate bars in fancy wrappings, then made appreciative noises as she checked the labels. Her tastes in sweets were more refined than the children’s. Dark chocolate, high cocoa content, no jakloff or cow’s milk, thank you. “Ah, orange, lemon, and asteroid crunch. Wonderful choices.”

  Her arms slid around his waist, and she kissed him. It was a tad more chaste than he would have preferred after more than two weeks apart, but they did have three-year-old witnesses. Later, they could get unchaste.

  “Were you able to stop the murderer?” Alisa asked, leaning against him, her chest squishing nicely against his.

  Memories of fighting Dufour came to mind, and of the horrified expression on his young face when he’d seen the leak and known the gas would kill him. Memories of watching Banding die on that table also came to him. He didn’t regret any of the decisions he had made out there, but he did regret the way the war had turned out, the fact that his people were scapegoats and targets years later, just because they had implants and had been good at their jobs. Nobody, he presumed, was hunting down the hundreds of thousands of other imperial soldiers who had served the emperor.

  “Yes,” he murmured finally, aware of Alisa looking up at him. “We got him. And I was reminded how much the entire system hates cyborgs.” He wondered if Jasim would take him up on his suggestion and start recording videos. In a small way, something as innocuous as that could start to change a few minds about cyborgs.

  “Not the entire system,” Alisa said, rubbing his back and smiling. “It’s unfortunate there isn’t a way for you to use chocolate to bribe the rest of the universe into loving you.”

  “Is that what won you over?” he asked his Alliance-loyal wife, a woman who would have been happy to shoot him when they first met. To be fair, he would have shot her without qualms too.

  “Well, it certainly wasn’t your charisma.” Her gaze drifted toward the hat. “Or your taste in clothing.”

  “Careful. If you tease me about this fine garment, I’ll insist on wearing it to bed with you.”

  “I’m not sure those tassels and balls would enhance your sexual allure.”

  “First, you insult my charisma and then my allure. I may not bring you chocolate again.”

  Her eyes widened in mock horror. “Oh dear. I better make reparations for my careless tongue.” She turned, waving toward the stairs. “Why don’t you accompany me to our cabin, where it’s easier to do such things?”

  “Gladly.”

  THE END

  Afterword

  Thank you for reading Cyborg Legacy! If you enjoyed it, I hope you’ll consider leaving a review. If you haven’t already read my Fallen Empire series and want to see how Leonidas and Alisa first met (hint: it wasn’t love at first sight!), you can check out the first book, Star Nomad. If you’ve already read all the books, don’t worry—more are coming. I’m launching a new series in the Fallen Empire universe in late Spring 2017. In the meantime, please sign up f
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