by Tamsin Ley
She realized the bay was nearly empty; from here she could only see one other shuttle besides the doctor’s, and the crowd had dwindled to nothing more than a few frantic stragglers.
“Self-destruct in fourteen minutes,” announced the emergency system.
“We’re your only hope now,” the doctor panted. “Stop fighting and come with us.”
He was right; his shuttle was their only chance to escape. But she’d be damned if she let this monster escape. He was going down, even if it meant she went down with him. She gritted her teeth and pulled. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter 21
Doug dragged himself forward, the rough deck plating scraping along his chest. The pulse blast had taken his legs offline, but he couldn’t let that stop him. Less than ten meters ahead, the shuttle’s engine was running, ready for takeoff. He tried to hack the shuttle’s controls as he crawled, but his nanites were still not cooperating.
He had to reach Dollard before he closed the door.
Ahead, Attie dug in her heels, holding onto thecryopod for dear life. Even in his drive to reach Dollard, he had to shake his head at her sheer determination. What an amazing woman.
But at this rate, he wasn’t going to reach her before the doctor got that damned pod inside. Not with the tech helping pull.
“Self-destruct in fourteen minutes.”
He wished he’d commandeered one of the laser guns. Benjy had stopped firing a few minutes ago, and Emilryde had gone down almost the moment the fight started. He wondered if the other cyborgs had secured a shuttle. Rust, where are you?
Kicking ass, Rust replied.
Of course there’d been resistance. He focused on his goal ahead. Almost within reach. He stretched forward, clawing at the deck.
“Self-destruct in thirteen minutes.”
The shuttle doors tried to close, bumping against the tech’s shoulder and bouncing open again as the safety protocol kicked in. “We have to leave it, sir!” The tech released his hold on the pod. “We’re nearly out of time to clear the blast radius!”
“I’m not leaving her behind!” Dollard continued tugging.
Doug’s gaze fell on the band around Dollard’s wrist. Twerp?
A familiar voice entered his head. Doug, the doctor is attempting to escape in a shuttle.
Doug had a crazy idea. Do any of your functions include tranquilizers?
No, I am only able to provide biometric feedback. The doctor is currently under a lot of strain. I’ve been trying to lock the shuttle before he gets on board, but I believe someone is standing in the way.
Doug stopped moving. You can hack the shuttle controls?
Only the door features. I believe I must be in close proximity... Twerp continued speaking, but Doug had stopped listening, gaze riveted on the doctor’s outstretched arms.
There was a way to keep Twerp out of Syndicorp’s hands. It would be gruesome and allow the shuttle to escape, but there was no way Doug was reaching them in time with his legs offline. The doctor gained another two inches, solidifying Doug’s decision. Twerp, disable the door safety protocols and close them. Now!
Twerp responded without question. The heavy sliding doors crunched through Dollard’s forearms like a guillotine. Both appendages dropped to the deck in a spray of blood.
Attie tumbled backward, nearly falling on top of him.
The shuttle lifted into the air and pivoted, heading for the bulkhead opening. It passed through the atmospheric shield with a popping sound.
“Self-destruct in ten minutes. Final evacuation pods have been deployed to reach minimum distance from blast radius.”
The siren stopped, leaving the bay in silence.
He stared at the glittering stars outside, dazed and reeling. Dollard was probably suffering a horrible death this very moment, but he found little satisfaction in the thought. It would a sour victory if he didn’t get Attie to safety, and she had little time to reach Rust at the shuttle. “Attie, get to the shuttle. Hurry!”
She had removed Twerp from Dollard’s severed wrist, grimacing as she wiped the device off on the bottom of her pant leg. “All the shuttles are gone.” Pocketing the AI, she moved to his side. “We have to find an escape pod.”
His blood turned cold. Lifting his head, he gazed about the bay, confirming what she said. In his focus to reach Dollard, he hadn’t realized the last shuttle had gone. The bay was empty of people jostling for shuttles. Emilryde still lay on his back several meters away, but he was the only cyborg in sight. Beyond that, the cavern was as quiet as a tomb. He muttered, “Should’ve known it would be too much to expect Rust to wait.”
Attie helped him sit, eyeing his leg where the fabric just above his knee had been burned away along with most of the synth-skin beneath. “Do you think you can stand if I help you?” Her voice was surprisingly calm. “We need to get to the lift. There are no escape pods on this level.”
“I’ll only slow you down. Go without me. Hurry!”
Attie stared at him, realization settling over her features. “We’re out of time to outrun the blast radius, aren’t we?”
He shook his head, trying to stay positive for her. “You have to try. Run!”
Shaking her head, she sank to her knees beside him. “Can you try to stop the self-destruct?”
Her gorgeous blue eyes staring into his were breaking his heart. He touched her soft cheek, drawing back when he realized how filthy his hand was. “Even if I could get my nanites to work properly, we’d need the admiral’s key. I failed you, Attie. I’m sorry.”
“You did everything you could.” Then Attie clutched his arm, eyes widening. “Wait! The admiral’s supposed to go down with the ship. We should go to the bridge!”
Doug smiled sadly. He loved her determination. “He was in on everything with Dollard. I doubt he was so honorable as to follow Syndicorp protocol and go down with the ship.”
Tears glossed her eyes, and she dropped her chin. “You’re probably right.” She sighed and met his gaze once more. “Kiss me one last time?”
His chest swelled with love. In her final moments, she wanted his kiss. “You are the bravest, most tenacious woman I’ve ever met.”
He leaned forward and met her lips, savoring their softness. Her rose petal scent washed over him, taking him back to the moments of pleasure they’d shared. She’d given him back his humanity, and although his time with her had not lasted nearly long enough, he was grateful.
The shush of the elevator doors carried across the quiet shuttle bay, interrupting his thoughts.
Rust stepped from the car and pelted toward them. Brix, Twobit, and Esben followed him.
“What the hell?” Doug asked. “You didn’t take the shuttle? I thought you’d escaped without us!”
“Twobit discovered the admiral was still on board, so I went and got the self-destruct key.” He brandished a flat, palm-sized card.
Twobit’s face contorted with regret. “I thought I could hack into the self-destruct. But even with the card, I couldn’t do it. There are too many firewalls.”
“Of course there are,” Doug snapped. “Self-destruct is supposed to be final.”
“You’re our best hacker,” said Esben. “You need to try.”
Rust tossed Doug the card. “If you don’t, we’re all dead. No pressure.”
Doug caught it, clenching his hand tightly enough to bend the polymer. He was a bit surprised the admiral had stayed behind, but that was beside the point. “This can only be used on the bridge.”
Offering a hand to help Doug to his feet, Rust said, “Get your ass to the bridge, then.”
“Come on.” Attie rose, tugging on his other arm. “There’s still time.”
Before he could try to stand, the cyborgs hoisted him into the air and rushed toward the lift. He could sense the minutes ticking down as they waited for the car to stop moving. Finally, the doors shushed open and the cyborgs deposited him in the admiral’s chair on the bridge. The body of the admiral lay
nearby, along with two other officers.
Smoke rose from several consoles, and the walls were blackened by weapons fire. The smell of melted polymer and hot metal filled the room as Doug shoved the card into a slot on the arm console. Closing his eyes, he reached for his nanites, trying to envision the self-destruct sequence. This would be the single-most important hack of his life.
And he had just over a minute to do it.
The admiral’s chair gave him access to every aspect of the ship, and the colors and sounds clamoring for his attention were nearly debilitating. He struggled down one false trail after another. In a panic, he erected his own shielding to block irrelevant data, and continued on.
Then he saw it. A ticking clock, just ahead. Thirty seconds and counting.
A shimmering firewall surrounded the self-destruct sequence. The admiral’s key had gotten him this far, but it wouldn’t grant access through the firewall. He spiraled around it, looking for a chink in the armor. There was always a back door; programmers knew better than to build something they couldn’t hack. But he couldn’t find it.
Growing more frantic as the seconds ticked by, he slammed against the wall, brute force his last resort.
Then Twerp’s voice reached him. Over here, Doug.
He spun, searching for the AI. He found her standing in a multicolored river of data, her ethereal form a willowy, feminine shape that shifted with the code’s ebb and flow.
Sixteen seconds left.
She gestured to a spot high on the firewall. I can’t reach it.
There it was; a single byte, so small he’d missed it.
An entry point.
Coiling all his energy, he narrowed his focus and leapt. He dropped his shielding, squeezed his virtual self until, with a pop, he slipped through.
On the other side was a simple timer with an on-off code right in the center. Eight seconds left. The clock was blinking, ticking them toward doom. Seven seconds. Six. Surely disarming it couldn’t be this easy? Was it booby trapped?
Five seconds.
Booby trap or not, he was out of time. Holding his breath, he toggled it. Four seconds.
The clock blinked.
Four seconds.
Four seconds.
It had to blink three more times before his shoulders relaxed. I did it. Then he turned to Twerp, We did it!
He opened his eyes to the expectant faces around him. Attie gripped his human hand tightly, lips white with terror. Dirt smudged her cheek, and one shoulder of her tunic was torn. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Well?” she asked.
In response, he grinned and pulled her onto his lap, capturing her mouth in a kiss.
From Attie’s pocket, Twerp said, “The countdown has stopped. I estimate our odds of success were four billion, eight hundred and thirty-six thousand nine hundred to one, unless you take into account—”
Twobit shouted, “Holy fuck, he did it!”
The bridge erupted with cheers, covering the rest of Twerp’s analysis. Rust and Brix high-fived each other with crashing force. Twobit pounded them on the backs.
Attie cupped Doug’s face in both hands and returned his kiss, shaking with sobs and laughter.
He laughed with her. They were alive and they were together. He’d never been as happy as he was at this moment.
She lay her head against his chest and let out a slow breath. “I can’t believe we survived.”
“Survived?” Rust crowed, eyes gleaming. “We own a fucking flagship!”
As the truth settled in, Doug met the eyes of his crew with a grin. “Where do we want to go first?”
Chapter 22
Attie rose from her seat at the bridge’s comm, legs shaky as she stared at the star-filled view screen. The sound of the burn drive powering down to regular thrusters was music to her ears. They’d fled deep into unclassified space to throw off any pursuit. Syndicorp would undoubtedly try to get their flagship back, and even the Icarus’s guns would be no match against a flotilla.
Now, after three hard burns in as many days, Attie just wanted a shower, a nap, and some food. The bridge was equipped with a massive nav-grav unit that didn’t require people to be strapped in, but it didn’t alleviate recovery time, and this many burns in such a short time left her feeling groggier than usual. Even the cyborgs seemed woozy, rubbing their heads and groaning.
“I think that should hide our trail,” said Doug, swiveling in the admiral seat, cybernetic eye looking over the crew on the bridge.
Attie’s gaze was drawn to his bare knees where the regrowing synth skin still looked patchy, mottled crimson over his polymer bones. Esben knew how to use a machine that accelerated cyborg healing, and even Emilryde and Benjy would be up and around in no time. It amazed her that they’d suffered no casualties.
“Twobit,” Doug asked. “Think you can finish your sweep of the Icarus today?”
Instead of resting between burns like Attie, the cyborgs had been systematically going from room to room and eliminating any remaining signals Syndicorp might pick up on. Doug had his hands full figuring out the burn drive and navigation systems.
Rust stood and answered, “Aye, captain,” while the other two nodded wearily.
Inhaling deeply, Attie headed to the door. “I’ll go check the captives.”
A handful of Syndicorp crew who’d been left behind—including a tech who’d been trapped in a cryopod—were in the brig until they could be dropped off somewhere. Then there was Claudia. Attie had originally felt guilty for all but forgetting the other Consort during their mad dash to escape, but the woman had shrugged and told her she’d have done the same.
Claudia showed no desire to leave the Consort Chamber and only slipped out to get more drugs from the med kit in the security office. Attie was certain one of these times she’d find the woman dead of an overdose. I need to ask if Esben has a way to break her addiction, she reminded herself. If there was one thing she’d come to realize over the last few days, it was that you should never give up.
At the doorway, Doug put a hand on her arm, drawing her out of her thoughts. “When you’ve finished, come to the admiral’s suite.”
Butterflies filled her stomach. They hadn’t been alone together since he’d hacked the countdown, but she’d caught him looking at her repeatedly between burns and hoped she knew what he was asking.
She yearned for him, too. The one time they’d been intimate invaded her mind every time she looked at him. But another part of her was terrified. The sex had been spectacular, but it had also been born of desperation and adrenaline. What if this time things fell flat?
There’s only one way to find out, she told herself as she smiled and nodded at him.
A mix of exhaustion and anticipation made her insides jittery as she checked the brig, then hurried to her quarters to shower and change clothes. Her footsteps echoed hollowly in the vacant corridors. Hundreds of crew members had fled during the self-destruct sequence, and she could move to a nicer room if she wanted, but she hadn’t taken time to think that far ahead. The cyborgs had moved out of their cells and into the officer suites two levels up.
Once she was clean and dressed, she headed to the lift. She stepped off the elevator on the officer level, and the mouthwatering scent of bacon hit her. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d eaten anything but protein bars and electrolytes. Closing her eyes, she raised her chin and inhaled deeply, following the delectable smell down the hall.
At the admiral’s suite, the door opened automatically, revealing the scent of the bacon along with a delectable odor of fresh bread. Her stomach growled.
“I’m in here,” Doug called from a doorway to her right.
Doug was cooking? And he could bake? She wasn’t certain why, but it surprised her. She stepped inside and let the door slide shut behind her.
She’d never been in the admiral’s suite before and gaped at the open sitting area tastefully decorated with plush white furniture and glass shelving
. This room alone was the size of the family quarters she’d grown up in. A vast video screen took up an entire wall, displaying an image of a spectacular orange sunset over rocky mountains capped with snow. She glanced toward another open door where she could see the corner of a large bed, dark blue coverlet falling in non-regulation fashion to the floor. Had he slept there, yet?
Heading into the dining area, she paused. Crystal glasses filled with orange juice sat at two adjacent spots on a big glass table, and a steaming pot of fresh coffee waited next to a fresh fruit platter.
This is for me. He could cook and he was thoughtful. Other guys she’d dated would’ve been waiting on the couch with a beer and thought themselves seductive if they remembered to offer her one, too. If she imagined she loved Doug before, she could practically worship him, now.
Carrying plates of bacon, eggs, and buttered toast, Doug emerged from a second door. He set the plates down and pulled out a chair for her. “I hope you don’t mind breakfast. This is all I know how to cook.”
Torn between jumping him now and her growling belly, she sat, letting him slide her forward. “Where did you get all this?” Reaching for a grape from the platter, she bit into it with a soft crunch that flooded her mouth with sweetness. “They only serve replicated food in the mess hall.”
“The kitchen in the officer’s mess has well-stocked coolers. I figured we might as well eat it before it goes bad.” He reached for the coffee pot. “Coffee?”
“Nebulas, yes,” she said, taking a huge bite of crisp bacon. She chewed with her eyes closed a moment, letting the rich, salty flavor fill her senses. When she opened her eyes, she found him looking at her, the coffee pot poised over the still-empty cup. She swallowed. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
His gaze dropped to the mug, filling it and sliding it toward her. “It’s been a long time since I shared a meal with someone. I like watching you enjoy it.”
Heat flooded her, pooling low between her legs. She licked her lips, picked up a large grape and ran her tongue over it before biting in, eyes never leaving his. A slow moan of pleasure rose from her throat, but she wasn’t really thinking about the food anymore.
