*****
The bot reactivated his droid companion and signaled command central once again for assistance.
The bot was sad he had missed Blue8's departure. The bot had been here a long time and Blue8 had been his favorite.
The most powerful of all the Blues and the most grounded. Decent. He was a decent sentient being. The bot was an older model and had served other places before this one. Enough to know that this was not the norm, as sentient beings liked to tell themselves, but a rarity.
Still, it was unclear to the bot why the Federation treated the Blues as they did. Why they harnessed them in such a way they would never know who they truly were, and how powerful. Surely they would be more value to the Federation in their full power?
As he watched the Federation ship depart, he laid his Cytech hand over the feed. "Goddspeed, Blue8. Goddspeed."
He felt only a small pang for Red6, but he had not known the young soldier long, and it took time for bots to develop feelings for other beings.
Still, he had cleaned what remained of the young Red with care from the floor and walls. The Elemental creature had not left much. Not physical anyway. The biggest bit, the invisible bit of Red6, it had consumed and taken with it.
The Old Ones' Elementals here hungered for the Reds, in a way they did not hunger for the Blues.
Perhaps because the Blues had better shields over that part of themselves, and it could not be taken from them quite so easily.
It was something to ponder while they waited for central command to collect them. It was still unclear and confusing to the bot why they had not been taken on the first ship with the selected equipment, and the remains - far more intact than those of Red6 - of Blue8.
“Goodbye, Blue8,” the bot said again and moved away from the feed, his farewell to the longest serving Blue at the outpost complete.
And Blue8, wherever he was, and he was many places all at once now, felt it. He did not know what had happened. But he felt something like a small string cut loose. And it made him crazy. It made him careen through the desert even more wildly. It surged through him this small action, setting him finally free.
He howled like a wild thing.
It felt good. It felt damn good.
The surreal desert scape before him changed to stars, and he saw the Blue Star, the star of the Siren, rising before him.
And he wondered, as do all those who realize they actually do have a choice, what the hell had taken him so long.
And then it struck him, that perhaps this would have been richer, if he had simply started with this.
With his own path, his own tribe to hurtle towards, and his own rebel yell ringing out across desert sands and cosmic skies.
But then again, maybe not.
Maybe it was the contrast that made the blood surge in his veins, and brought the first tears of his life to his eyes.
Blue8 howled like a wild thing again.
And did not care.
And the Sprite smiled.
Off-Worlders Page 3
