“I promised Mason I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Suzanne shook her head. “If some paranoid official finds out and screams treason, I’ll be the first one on the chopping block.”
“I wouldn’t ask you this if it weren’t necessary. Considering the sensation we created, I don’t know if I can hold off the inquiries by myself.”
She stared down at the table. “Everything that I was raised to believe tells me I should inform Military Intelligence, but I won’t. I’ll make sure that any investigation into the matter goes nowhere.”
“Thank you, Suzanne. Mason would be extremely grateful, too.”
“I’m not doing it for him,” she said. “I’m doing it for you.”
Steiner didn’t know how to respond to her admission of affection. He sipped from his cup, revolted by the taste of the lukewarm coffee. He signaled to the waitress and pointed to his mug. When he looked back at Suzanne, he found her staring out the window.
“Where is the award ceremony to be held?” he asked.
She sniffed. “The New York Metropolitan Center.”
“Am I confined to the station until then?”
Her confident posture returned. “Not the number one war hero. You’ve been granted shore leave until Wednesday morning at 0900, Earthstation time, when your ship is scheduled to depart. That gives you over thirty-six hours to visit Earth.”
“What about my crew?”
“Be serious. Do you think Earthstation Security will allow forty-four convicts to roam the streets unsupervised?”
“The total is down to forty-two.”
The waitress stepped up to the table and exchanged the cold coffee for a fresh cup.
“I’ll round up a few replacements before you leave,” Suzanne replied.
Steiner burned his lips on the steaming liquid. “How about at least giving my officers some leave time?”
“I doubt Earthstation Security will even allow them off the ship. They’re still convicts.”
“So am I. If they don’t get shore leave, neither do I.”
“Don’t be unreasonable. You have to attend the award ceremony in New York.”
“Not if my officers aren’t able to. I couldn’t have succeeded alone.”
She scowled at him. “You are so stubborn sometimes.” She paused and frowned. “Probably as bad as me. I’ll talk to Earthstation Security. No promises, though.”
“Let’s go talk to them right now. Why wait?” Steiner warmed his stomach with two swallows of his coffee before standing up from the table.
She huffed. “I can see my career flashing before my eyes.”
After leaving the restaurant, they went to the Earthstation Security Department. It took nearly an hour of arguing with the supervisor to get shore leaves for just the officers but no one else. The man made it clear that if anything went wrong, Suzanne would be held responsible because she ranked higher than Steiner. She accepted reluctantly, then lectured Steiner for twenty minutes about how she wanted his officers to behave and where they could go. Before she left, she told him to meet her outside his hotel an hour before the ceremony tomorrow evening.
When Steiner returned to the Marauder to announce the leaves, Daniels turned him down flat, but that came as no surprise. The head engineer usually avoided any type of social activity except for his church services. On the other hand, Bricket, Mason, Sanchez, and Palmer jumped at the opportunity to leave the ship.
The person Steiner most wanted to go to the surface with was Tramer. During the past two weeks of their return voyage, Steiner had met privately with Tramer daily, attempting to rebuild a relationship with him. The weapons officer had remained tightly closed within himself, but Steiner had found one way past his defenses. Tramer liked jokes. He never laughed or smiled, probably because the needed muscles in his face were dead, but his human eye twinkled. Steiner hoped a short leave would bring him out of the shell that had imprisoned him for the past seven and a half years.
Tramer refused to go to Earth at first, but after much persuasion, he agreed to a brief visit.
All of the officers, except Daniels, left the ship together and boarded a civilian shuttle for the New York Transport Station. On the trip down, Tramer received nervous glances from the frightened civilians on board. They spoke to one another in hushed tones tainted with revulsion and terror of the weapons officer.
“They must be envious,” Steiner whispered to Tramer.
The gray eye sparkled.
Through the viewports along the passenger compartment, the sun dipped over the horizon. The coming darkness awakened the colorful lights of the metropolis far below. Unused now, ancient bridges spanned the bay, serving only as memorials to the past. Lady Liberty welcomed them with a blazing torch.
After the shuttle landed at the transport station, Steiner and his officers walked out into the crowded streets. Signs hung over each intersection. NO VEHICLES ALLOWED WITHIN THE CITY LIMITS. Steiner remembered seeing pictures of a time when vehicles dominated these pathways, but the advent of the underground transit-tube system had eliminated the need for them and made crowd control more manageable.
Steiner had forgotten how much he enjoyed breathing fresh air rather than the recycled, metallic-scented mixture on the Marauder. Aromas of cooked foods emanated from concession stands set up on the curbs.
There on the streets, Tramer didn’t receive the attention he had on the shuttle. Many people were dressed so strangely that the weapons officer blended into the cauldron of madness.
Steiner overheard Mason and Bricket talking about visiting a fantasy house, where they could live out computer-generated dreams with women pulled from their mind’s eye. His throat tightened. He recalled his last visit to one of those establishments right after Mary’s death. He had wanted one final look at her to say good-bye. He found himself twisting his white-gold ring.
“Are you still wedded to Mary?” Tramer asked.
Steiner glanced up at his friend. “Do you remember her?” “One of the Valiant’s assistant chefs, expecting her first child.”
“Yes, you correctly deduced that she was pregnant before she knew she was.”
“Does she live here on Earth?”
“Well … no, I lost her in a shuttle accident.”
“What purpose does the ring serve?”
“I’m still her husband.”
“She died.”
“That doesn’t matter to me. I love her.” Steiner decided to use this perfect opportunity to ask Tramer about his past. “What about your wife, Candice?”
Tramer fell silent for a long moment. “I died.”
Steiner swallowed hard.
Bricket and Mason headed south toward a decoratively lit building with a giant neon sign that read, FANTASIES.
Just then, Steiner realized that might be just what Tramer needed, a chance to be human again for a while. Perhaps that could be his vacation.
He casually led the weapons officer toward the fantasy house. They watched the bartender and pilot enter the “adults only” section.
“Would you like to go inside and try it?” Steiner asked.
“I have no need for imaginary women,” Tramer replied.
“I wasn’t suggesting you try one of their fantasies. This is your chance to live as you once did, without all the hardware. You could run through a field, climb a mountain—act like a normal man again.
“I am not a man anymore. Why should I subject myself to something I no longer am or ever can be?”
“To relive pleasant memories.”
Tramer looked away, wordlessly.
Steiner remembered how much seeing Mary again after her death had helped him. “You could be with your wife again.”
Tramer stiffened. His human eye widened with what looked like insane rage.
Steiner backed away in fear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean—”
Tramer stomped away to a secluded corner and bowed his head. His mechanical fingers jerked. His entire body twitched, ex
pelling short bursts of motorized whines. The seizures lasted for a moment, then subsided.
Steiner’s body broke out in a cold sweat. Would Tramer have actually hurt him? Several days ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed it possible, yet now he wasn’t sure. He remembered Cole’s warning him about Tramer killing two innocent people after one of them inquired about his wife.
Three small children scampered out of the kids’ section of the fantasy house. Their parents called for them to come back. A small girl ran into Tramer. The child’s face whitened at the sight of the deformed head staring down at her. She screamed. Another sound immediately followed, except this one wasn’t human. Tramer wailed in agony. The mother of the girl shrieked and snatched up her daughter. Tramer raced through the scattering crowd.
“Maxwell,” Steiner shouted at him, forcing his way through the panicking mob.
Tramer moved with inhuman speed. Steiner only caught a glimpse of him dashing down the street before he disappeared completely. Screams from pedestrians sounded far ahead, marking the weapons officer’s passage. Steiner sprinted after him, dodging frightened people in Tramer’s wake, but soon lost the trail completely.
A tormented wail echoed from out of the distant night.
MAXWELL maneuvered through the streets, avoiding as many people as he could. The few he passed backed away in fear and disgust. A police officer tried to pursue him on foot but wasn’t able to keep up. Maxwell couldn’t allow anyone to catch him. He might kill more innocent people.
He wished he hadn’t come down to the city. In prison and on the P.A.V., he had been safe from his buried past. Now his emotions threatened to tear his sanity away.
The memories that he had hoped were long forgotten came back to haunt him. He saw his wife, Candice, looking at him for the first time after his operation.
“Is it really my Maxwell?” she asked one of the cyberneticists.
“It’s the best we could do. There wasn’t much left of him to work with. Perhaps, when the ban on genetic manipulation is—”
“That is not my husband. That can’t be my Max. You should have let him die with dignity.”
Her words cut into his soul. He had no idea what he had looked like at the time, but the fact that his appearance revolted her crushed him. But that was mild compared to the reaction of Veronica.
The scene played out in his mind once more. He staggered through a hall at the medical center, learning how to move his new mechanical appendages. His six-year-old daughter, Veronica, ran around a corner, calling out for her daddy. She stared up at him, then screamed in terror. The bloodcurdling cry lasted for what seemed an eternity. Veronica fell to the ground and covered her face.
“Mommy, Mommy, it’s a monster,” she shrieked.
Candice raced around the corner, fell down on Veronica, shielding her. “Stay away from her,” she shouted hysterically.
Maxwell wanted to die. His own family cowered in fear of him. Didn’t they know he would never hurt them? He would have gladly given up his life for either of them.
After that day, he never saw either of them again.
Veronica.
Maxwell came to an abrupt stop in a dark alley and wailed again, hating the sound of his own mechanized voice. Blinded by his fury, he burrowed his fists into a side of a building. The concrete blocks gave way easily to his might, collapsing inward. A burglar alarm rang out from inside the hole. Tramer froze in terror. That was the second time he had lost control of his strength. The first had been in the cargo bay of the Magellan seven years ago, when he had acquired the nickname “Killer Cyborg.”
He had been working on that ship’s weapon systems when his enhanced audio sensors heard two other crewmen talking about him.
“They probably built him some metal genitals, too,” one of them whispered.
The other snickered. “His wife must think it’s an improvement.”
In retrospect, Maxwell realized that both men might have been trying to overcome their fear of his new form. But at the time, all the anger of losing Candice and Veronica flooded back. Maxwell attacked them with the intent of rendering both men unconscious. When he had finished, he stood over two lifeless, broken heaps of flesh.
Maxwell remembered the cyberneticists repeatedly warning him of his new physical abilities. He had thought he could control them, but he had been wrong. In his rage, he had murdered two innocent people, breaking them like dolls.
Seven years in prison had taught him to suppress his emotions. He knew that if they were ever released again, more innocent people might die. He must seclude himself until he could find control again.
Veronica’s scream continued to echo inside his mind.
“HE’S missing?” Suzanne nearly shouted at Steiner. The people ahead of them in line at the city transit tubes stared at them as they exited from magnetically driven cars.
Steiner pulled his jacket close about him to shield against a gusty wind blowing in from the Atlantic Ocean. “I searched all night. He could have already left the city.”
“I knew something like this would happen, but I didn’t expect it to be Tramer,” she said. “If he hurts anyone or does any damage, I’ll get the blame for it. For goodness’ sake, what if he kills someone?”
Steiner stopped her. “Wait a minute. You were the one who said he was emotionally stable enough to work on my ship.”
“That was before he scared some kid and went AWOL. What did you say to him to set him off?”
“I asked him about Candice, and if he wanted to live out a fantasy with her.”
“His wife? Why would he want to do that? She dumped him right after his transformation. She couldn’t bear the sight of him, I’m told.”
An empty car stopped in front of them, and they climbed into the open hatch.
“You never told me Candice was a taboo subject,” Steiner said, strapping himself into a seat.
“His entire past is a taboo.” Suzanne closed the hatch, then entered their destination into the input pad. The magnetically driven car whispered away into the dark tunnels.
“What happened to his little girl?” Steiner asked.
“His wife took her.”
“Maybe that’s what set him off. He misses his daughter.”
“I don’t care why he left. I want him back on board the P.A.V. now.”
“Marauder,” Steiner replied.
“Whatever. I’m calling Earthstation Security on this. They can find him before he harms someone.”
“Let me go after him alone.”
“How will you know where to look?”
Steiner opened his jacket and extracted a small device from an inside pocket. “I purchased this before I came to meet you. All I need is the frequency for the tracers that are planted in all the convicts.”
“No. Absolutely not. You’re a prisoner.”
“A war hero,” Steiner shot back. “A former shipmate. You can trust me. I’ll find him and bring him back before anyone is the wiser.”
“No.”
“Suzanne, if you call Earthstation Security, they’ll put Tramer back in prison for the rest of his life.”
She frowned.
“I can’t afford to lose him,” he said again. “Please let me talk to him before you throw away his career.”
“If anyone finds out that I gave you the frequency for the tracers, I’ll lose my rank.”
“I haven’t betrayed Mason, and I won’t betray you.”
She sighed. “It’s 65150.”
He kissed her lightly on the cheek.
She blushed slightly, then her anger returned. “I can’t believe all the trouble you’re causing me. Here I am, about to mingle with the most influential people in the U.S.S., and I’m under the threat of a possible court-martial.”
Steiner replaced the tracker within his jacket. “Just don’t think about it.”
She rolled her eyes and sighed.
After their car stopped at the New York Metropolitan Center, they passed through a securit
y checkpoint and entered a lift that took them to a luxurious lounge. Flora sprouted from circular planters and scented the air. Colorful holographic artwork decorated the towering walls. Stars glittered through the glass ceiling fifty feet above them.
Suzanne tugged at Steiner’s shoulder. He turned in time to see her exchange greetings with Commodore David Cole. She appeared to be holding up well, not displaying any of the fears she had revealed earlier.
“Captain Steiner, it’s good to see you again,” the commodore said, shaking Steiner’s hand. “How is your visit to Earth so far?”
“Uneventful.”
“I heard that your officers came down with you,” Cole said. “Will they be joining us for the celebration?”
“They are occupied tonight.”
Suzanne fidgeted, her gaze dropping to the floor.
“Intelligence officers interrogated Captain Ronald Peters yesterday. He still insists that we have a Separatist admiral in our back pocket.” Cole chuckled softly.
Steiner faked a laugh.
“Military Intelligence has requested a copy of that computer program your specialist wrote to break into the battlecruiser’s weapons systems,” Cole said. “Drop it off at my office tomorrow before your ship departs.”
The color drained from Suzanne’s face. “Excuse me.” She moved quickly toward the restrooms.
Cole didn’t even seem to notice that she had gone. “I think M.I. wants to find a way to re-create your success in future engagements.”
“I doubt they will make the same mistake again,” Steiner replied.
“That’s unfortunate. We could use some more captured battlecruisers.” Cole grinned.
Steiner pretended to be amused, thanked the commodore again, and moved to the punch bowl to fill a cup with the bubbling ruby mix.
“Yes, yes, bring us more Separatist battlecruisers for our collection,” a familiar voice said. A seven-foot-tall man stood behind a nearby column with his back to Steiner as if he were purposely hiding from the majority of the people in the room. “If you complete a full set, we might obtain a surrender,” the man continued as he turned his head toward Steiner.
The penetrating gaze from the pale face with golden-rimmed spectacles was unmistakable. Professor Isaac R. Steele, whom Pattie used to call “Smarty Pants,” among other things. Very eccentric, often misunderstood, Steele had been a silent partner in McKillip’s Cyrian Defense. His face looked younger than his forty-five years of age demanded it should. Still free from graying, his blond hair was parted in the middle and feathered back on both sides. The rims from his spectacles sparkled in the bright room, further distinguishing him in that few people wore optical ware anymore, choosing instead a simple corrective surgery. Steele had claimed all cosmetic surgery was an expression of vanity and that he had too much of that trait already.
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