Chains of Freedom

by Selina Rosen

The young man stepped into the laboratory and was silent. He waited patiently at the old man's shoulder.

  Finally, the old man sighed and looked up from the sophisticated electron-escalating light-infused microscope he was using. He didn't like to be disturbed."Yes, what is it, Poley? And make it quick. I'm very busy."

  "You wanted information on the random unit?" Poley asked.

  Suddenly, the old man's eyes sparkled with interest. Professor Stewart clasped his hands together in an excited manner. "So, what has the little devil done this time?" he asked with anticipation.

  "She has destroyed another convoy," Poley smiled a small smile. "It was carrying some of the new Z-27 laser pistols. All Reliance Personnel were killed. All Reliance vehicles destroyed."

  Stewart broke into a bout of hysterical laughter. He patted Poley on the back. When he finally quit laughing, a fanatical gleam entered his sky-blue eyes."Do you realize what's happened, Poley?" He didn't give Poley a chance to answer. "She has taken it upon herself to fight the Reliance. And, as if that's not good enough, she's winning!" He turned back to his work at the microscope."Despite all her training, all the years she fought for the Reliance, she's rebelled. She's turned her hand against them," Stewart said happily.

  "You sound as if you hope she will win," Poley said.

  "Who cares one way or the other?" Stewart said with a shrug. He looked up from the microscope. "We're scientists, Poley. We're not political. The important thing is that the experiment is a success."

  "Of the twelve units, only this one still lives," Poley reminded him.

  "One out of twelve isn't that bad," Stewart said defensively.

  "Those are not very good odds. I calculate that if this one does not stop her fight against the Reliance, she will not live beyond six more months," Poley said. "Then the experiment will be a . . ."

  Stewart pulled a box from his pocket and pressed a button on it. Poley became totally immobile.

  "Damned cocky machine," Stewart humphed. "Give a robot a personality, artificial intelligence, and the best years of your life, and what do you get? Back talk. That's what." He looked at the deactivated Poley for only a moment. "Uppity robot." He reactivated him. "What do you say?"

  "I'm sorry, Dad," the robot looked down at his feet."I'm just worried about RJ, that's all."

  Stewart just stared at him. He shook his head and laughed."Really, Poley. Sometimes you surprise even me. I'm sure RJ will be just fine. After all, you are only my second-greatest creation."

  Chapter Six

  RJ heard someone pounding on the door, so she got up and pulled on her pants. The knock became more urgent, so she picked up her blaster.

  "Who the hell is it?" She tried to sound alert, but the truth was that she didn't feel up to a fight just now.

  "It's Whitey Baldor."

  RJ sighed with relief. "Come in," she lowered the weapon only when she saw that he was alone. "I'd ask you to sit, but . . ." she shrugged around the room.

  Whitey was not a man who closed his eyes to the obvious. Yes, he saw the hole in the wall, but that was not what caught his eye. There was only one bed. The man slept on one side, and the covers were pulled back on the other. Obviously, RJ and this man were lovers. He wondered for a moment what someone like RJ was doing with a wimp like that.

  "So, Mr. Baldor . . ." she started.

  "Whitey," he corrected with a smile.

  "So, Whitey, what can I do for you?"

  He smiled broadly.

  "Let me rephrase that question."

  "As long as your friend is asleep . . ." Whitey winked.

  "Don't you ever give up?" she asked with a grin.

  "Not till I get what I want," he said. "Right now, you're at the top of my list."

  It was at this time that David woke up, but he preferred, for the time being, to pretend to be asleep. He wasn't sure that he liked what he was hearing.

  "You may have a considerable wait. Care to fight a war while you're waiting?"

  "Ah, why the hell not? If you're really RJ," Whitey said.

  "Don't I look like an RJ?" she asked.

  "As a matter of fact, yes." He looked at David. "You know it's all over town that you and I" he coughed, and RJ smiled. "I, of course, love the publicity, but aren't you going to get in trouble with him?"

  By now, David was positive that he didn't like what he was hearing.

  "I'm not afraid of David," RJ said, dismissing the whole thing.

  "Oh, is that his name?" Whitey smiled. "That's cute. So, tell me, is it love, or just mutual lust?"

  "None of your business," RJ replied with a sly smile.

  David could pretend no longer. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. When he opened them, he took a double take. "Him!" he screamed angrily. "You slept with him!"

  RJ didn't like the tone of his voice. "I'll do as I damn well please." She wrapped the chain around her waist and over her shoulders.

  "Do you think you could quit panting long enough to help me patch up this wall?" she asked Whitey.

  Whitey smiled broadly. "I could give it a shot." He followed her out of the room, but paused before closing the door to look back at David.

  "You might as well accept it. I'm going to take her away from your scrawny ass." He swung the door closed with an air of self-confidence that made David fume.

  "Smug fucker," David cursed the door. The vision of RJ with this great hulking lummox drooling all over her made David's blood boil. He felt very much the way a father feels towards his daughter; he didn't want RJ himself, but he didn't want anyone else to have her, either. Especially not this giant blond jerk.

  David got up walked to the hole in the wall and looked out. What was that? He saw it again. Someone had moved down there. Behind the old dumpster. He couldn't see anyone now. The funny thing was that David was sure that whoever it was had been watching, looking for signs of activity. It might just be paranoia, but he decided to tell RJ when she returned, just to be on the safe side.

  Willie Jones, who preferred to be called Mickey, ducked quickly behind the dumpster. He didn't know whether it was a good idea to be seen or not.

  It hadn't been difficult to find out where the platinum blonde goddess was staying. Not after she had blasted the GSH through her wall. He had been watching, waiting for her return. Now she was back, and he wanted very much to get in touch with her, but he would wait till she was alone. Mickey'd had no cause to trust anyone save himself, but now he trusted the woman. She had gone out of her way to save him when she'd no reason for doing so. All his life, no one—not parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle—had gone an inch out of their way for him. They had shoved him back and forth like a hot potato. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to grow, the Reliance had sent a message to his family saying that they would be coming for him. Even at twelve Mickey had known what that meant. He left home and went into hiding.

  It hadn't been too hard to pass himself off as a child. What was hard was earning a living. Since Mickey couldn't risk Reliance involvement, he just sort of fell between the cracks. No one was going to take on an extra kid unless the Reliance ordered them to. To stay alive, he had learned to pick pockets—a career at which he excelled. Eventually, like most who have fallen out of grace with the Reliance, Mickey wound up in Alsterase.

  He wanted very much to belong to something. This woman's interest in him had given him hope that he wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life alone. If being with her meant going up against the Reliance, so much the better.

  RJ and Whitey scavenged the streets of Alsterase gleaning materials from structures long ago abandoned. When they came back to the apartment with their haul, David looked at it skeptically, but it soon became apparent that RJ and Whitey knew what they were doing. In less than two hours, the hole was patched.

  While it couldn't be said that it was as good as new, it would keep the cold out and the warmth in. At least you couldn't see out of it.

  David hadn't helped much. In fact, he hadn't helped at all. He wa
s mad, and didn't even attempt to hide the fact. He did offer to go get lunch.

  "Good idea, I'm starved," RJ said.

  "Fine," David huffed. "Money, RJ?" He held out his hand, and she gave him a fistful of units. "Well, I'll just be going then." He left, being sure to slam the door good and hard on his way out.

  "What in hell is wrong with him?" RJ said hotly. Whitey just shrugged. If she didn't know, he was damned if he was going to tell her.

  "So, RJ, want to make the walls go thump?" Whitey asked, flopping down on the bed.

  RJ laughed and shook her head.

  "No, huh? Well, then how about I jump up and down on the bed, and you can groan," Whitey smiled broadly.

  RJ laughed louder.

  "I'm serious."

  "What was your military specialty?" RJ asked.

  "You're changing the subject. I was talking about sex," Whitey told her.

  "Humor me," RJ said with her best crooked grin.

  "I was Elite. I specialized in small arms and guerilla warfare. You?"

  "I've been a colonel—temporary battlefield promotion. Lieutenant mostly." She played with a link of her chain. "Also Elite."

  "Most of us are. So why did you leave the Corps?" Whitey was more than a little curious. Being Elite was a privilege. Elites rarely decided to just defect. There was no reason for them to rebel; they had everything they could want. Except real freedom of course. He wondered what could have made her leave her post and go after the Reliance with such a vengeance. He would have stayed right where he was and probably never noticed what was wrong with the world if they hadn't made him marry that fucking bitch.

  "Simple enough. I don't like their tactics. I don't like the idea that some people are better than other people just because they were born into a high-ranking Reliance family. I like to fight; I won't lie about that. But I can't feel good about fighting if I don't think I'm on the right side, and cleansing missions aren't really my idea of sport. To make a long story short, I shot the CO in charge of the slaughter, ran like hell, and here I am."

  Whitey nodded his head, satisfied with her answer.

  They were laughing by the time David got back, and he practically threw their food at them.

  "I ran into a man at the restaurant who was only too happy to tell me that you slept with him," David said hotly, pointing at Whitey.

  "So?" RJ shrugged.

  Whitey turned away so that they couldn't see him fighting his laughter.

  "So? Is that all you have to say for yourself? So?" David shouted.

  "I didn't sleep with him, but I don't see why it should matter to you if I did." RJ did not even do him the courtesy of being defensive. Hell, she didn't even stop eating. "Really, David, why should you care who I fuck?"

  In spite of himself, Whitey let out a laugh. He couldn't help it. David gave him a hot look, and Whitey shrugged. "That's the problem with a military bitch, Mac. Very cold, very calculating, and not very compassionate."

  David was silent. He started to eat, giving RJ dagger-filled looks the whole time.

  Finally, she could stand it no more."Why are you looking at me like that?" she demanded.

  "Like what?" David asked innocently.

  "Ugh!" RJ growled in anger. She tried to ignore him, but he wouldn't be ignored.

  "If you want to fuck everyone in Alsterase . . ." he started.

  "I didn't fuck him, but even if I had that would hardly be everyone in Alsterase," RJ said through gritted teeth.

  ". . . I don't care. I mean, it's certainly none of my business," David said haughtily.

  "I'm glad you understand that. Now, will you just let it lie?" RJ went back to eating.

  "Fine!" David said on what was supposed to be a final note. Of course, it wasn't. "It's bad enough that you did it, but then to lie about it."

  RJ murmured a curse. "You're sick, David," she said."You're a sick man, and you obviously need help."

  Whitey unceremoniously kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed as if he belonged. He was for the most part, forgotten at this point.

  "Everyone thinks you're living with me and sleeping with him," David said indignantly.

  "Oh, and you must uphold your reputation," RJ mocked.

  "Fine," David started for the door.

  "Where are you going?" RJ asked.

  "Out to get laid," he said bluntly.

  "You better take some money with you," RJ said in a hateful tone. For some reason, the thought of David's having a woman distressed her, but she hid it well.

  "I don't need money, smartass," David stomped out of the room.

  Whitey looked up at RJ. "You know, as long as he's going to condemn you, and he's gone, we might as well . . ."

  RJ shook her head.

  "Are you having trouble understanding 'no,' Whitey? Has it got too many syllables for you? Thanks for the help. Don't be a stranger."

  He was being dismissed. She opened the door, Whitey got up, grabbed his boots, and walked out. He turned briefly."You really don't know what you're missing," he said, winking.

  "Yes, I think I do," she smiled. "Take care, Whitey." She shut the door.

  RJ sighed, and leaned against it. "God, men are assholes."

  Her eyes were still dry from the Pronuses, and she was going to have to do something with her hair and nails before the rapid growth was detected. She went to the bathroom and washed her eyes with water, then she dug the kit from her pocket. First she pulled out the knife and cut her nails. It was no easy task. The toenails were especially hard. She dumped the clippings into the toilet and stood in front of the mirror. She hated to cut her hair. She never seemed to be able to get both sides to match. As a result, she usually wound up cutting it shorter than she had originally intended. Unfortunately, this time was no different, and she had her hair a good inch shorter than she wanted it. She dumped the hair into the toilet with the nail clippings and pumped the handle. She had a moment's anxiety when it looked like the toilet wasn't going to flush, but after a few curses and some tinkering, all was clear. She gave her hair one last disgruntled look, and went into the other room.

  For the first time she really looked at the room. She was living in a pigsty. David was off fucking some bimbo, and she was living in a pigsty.

  Without really thinking about it, she started to clean up the mess. Originally, she thought that she'd just remove the obvious junk, but before she knew it, she was searching the building for cleaning supplies. The janitorial supplies were practically nonexistent, so she decided to bring it up the next time she saw the fat man with the corpse fetish. Every time she thought about David, she scrubbed a little harder. By the time she admitted that she was mad—about what, exactly, was unclear—the whole place was spotless, and the smell was gone. She sat down on the crate of lasers and surveyed her handiwork.

  "It's still a dump, but at least it's a clean dump," she muttered to herself. "No place like home," she added on a sarcastic note.

  Then it hit her like a brick. Home. She'd never really had a place to call home before. A sleeping bag in a barracks full of people she had no desire to know. Alone with no privacy; the worst possible scenario. Never any place she could call home.

  Then her thoughts turned to David. He had been gone a long time. She wondered what he was up to, and if she was pretty. She stood up and started to pace. The longer she paced, the faster she went. The faster she went, the madder she got. Why did she care if he had a woman? It was certainly none of her business. Hell, let him have a dozen for all she cared! Except that she did care, and that was, of course, what made her the most angry. She knew that logically she should kick back and spend the rest of the evening contemplating anything except what David was doing, but all she really wanted to do was track this whore down and rip her face off. When a knock came on the door, she snapped.

  "Now who the fuck is it, and what the hell do you want?"

  "Is Mickey," a small, unsure voice choked out.

  It took only a second for the name and voic
e to register. She mentally chastised herself.

  "Wait a second, buddy," she took a deep breath, and then went and answered the door.

  Mickey looked reluctant to enter.

  "I'm sorry, Mickey, it's been a rough afternoon."

  He gathered his courage and entered. "If a bad time . . ."

  "Not at all, why don't you sit down?" RJ said, waving towards the box of lasers.

  Mickey waddled over and sat down.

  "It's good to see you."

  "I watch island. Find out things . . . don't know name?"