Natalie and Rylan were both in the command room. He walked in and greeted them both. He stood behind the pilot’s seat.
“You did well Rylan,” he said. “Thank you.”
The pilot nodded. Burke turned to Natalie.
“You as well,” he said. “This isn’t exactly what you visited me for. I’m sorry about that.”
“No one got hurt,” Natalie smiled. “It’s fine.”
“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“I have to be familiar with many types of weapon systems for research at ACU,” she said. “You never know when parts of something might have other uses elsewhere. I’m good at my job.”
“Apparently so,” Burke smiled.
He walked closer to her. Cass materialized above her podium. She looked around the room and then through the main screen. Burke watched her and followed her virtual eyes. They were far off from the slave ship and any planets in the system. He knew they would have to stay away from major settlements for a while. No doubt their ship was the topic of several reports from the firefight on Stheno.
“Are you okay to stay with us still?” he asked, turning to Natalie.
“I said you had a month to make it up to me. It’s barely been a week,” she said. “I haven’t had enough of you yet.”
“We’ll see how you feel if something else happens,” he said.
“I think it’ll be okay,” she said. “You should take the time off with me.”
He nodded. Cass turned toward them. She caught Burke’s attention.
“Geoff wants to talk to you,” she said.
“Privately?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Put him through here,” Burke said.
The main screen changed to display Geoff’s call. He looked far better than when Burke had seen him last. Natalie got to her feet and stood next to him as they looked at the screen.
“Thank you,” Geoff said. His left eye was still swollen shut. His right looked close to tearing.
“My pleasure,” Burke said simply.
Natalie leaned out in front of him, making a bewildered face at his choice of words. Burke made a face back.
“He knows what I mean,” he protested.
Natalie laughed.
“I’m sending a ship to you with an identity scrubber. They’re expensive but consider it me returning the favor,” Geoff explained.
“I can use it to alter the ship’s signal,” Cass said behind them. “We won’t have to wait for them to stop looking for us for being involved on Frey. We can use one of the gates right afterward.”
“How will you send it from Prime?” Burke asked.
“I have contacts in Tali,” Geoff said. “Not any I trust with my daughter but enough for this. I want you to bring her to me. She’s agreed to it, temporarily. I want to be sure no one else is after her.”
“We can do that,” Burke answered.
“Thank you. My bar is open to all of you when you get to Foras. I’ll be in touch, Burke.”
The screen went blank. He turned to Natalie. She was shaking her head.
“My pleasure,” she repeated, laughing.
They walked together out of the room, Burke scowling as she teased him. They entered the armory and looked over the damage the aegis had sustained. Natalie frowned at it, running her fingers over the indents that the bullets had made. The damage the helmet had sustained from the sniper was the worst of all, resembling a long scar.
“I can fix it,” she said. “At this rate you’ll need to replace the outer layer of the armor next time you’re at ACU.”
“They were prepared for me,” he said. “They knew what they were up against.”
She followed him as he walked across the corridor and into his quarters. He wanted desperately to take a shower but he made a show of walking over to the far wall instead. The wall display activated to his touch and he used both hands to move files around. He flipped through the folders he had on Isaac Paxton, an open file he kept on the main screen that had been bothering him for years. He closed it with a flourish and took it off the primary level of the display. He didn’t fill the space immediately. He let it sit there, vacant.
“Finally,” he said.
“You did well Burke,” Natalie said. “I’m proud.”
“I couldn’t have done it without help,” he said. “Although I don’t like to admit that.”
“Ah, typical,” Natalie grinned. “You went up against a man and dozens of his hired thugs and you’re not happy that you needed three people to help you.”
“I would have been dead without Cass. Maybe she should count as more than one.”
“Then I’ll be sure to congratulate her too,” Natalie said. “I’ll go do that while you get cleaned up. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Burke nodded. He stripped from his clothes as she left and then went into the shower. The ship had even more people now, he thought. At least while he was under the shower’s spray of hot water, he didn’t let it bother him.
* * *
Over a week passed before they received the delivery Geoff promised. Kristen had settled onto the ship. She had mentioned several times that she was unhappy to not be returning to her home on Frey, but she agreed with her father’s decision. She spoke with Rylan more than the others, often talking with him in the meeting room next to the kitchen.
Cass resumed work on Lumen. Natalie assisted her, while Burke continued to try to understand what they were attempting to do. He was happier when they worked on his aegis. Guided by Natalie, he was able to administer the restoring paste that she had brought with her from ACU. It had been developed specifically for his type of armor, meshing into gaps wherever they formed in the aegis. If it was not applied properly, gaps could form and weaken the armor, or rough patches could stick out. She taught him how to smoothly apply the substance, which dried into a jet black. In the parts of the aegis that were white, the repair spots looked like speckles from a distance.
“How is ACU lately?” Burke asked.
“Bad,” Natalie answered. “Havard is keeping many secrets. You have to be careful when you go there from now on. He’s restricted any future sales of weapons and armor to outside sources. He’s only honoring current customers like you and a handful of others. He was adamant about that.”
“Why?” Cass asked.
“I don’t know,” Natalie replied. “He’ll rarely meet with me anymore. There’s talk that he might be close to perfecting a way to detect Species 1260.”
“Vampires,” Burke said dramatically.
“Not vampires,” Natalie sighed. “Don’t call them that. I’m not happy with how the facility feels lately. He’s planning something.”
“You should quit,” Burke suggested.
“I wish it was that simple,” Natalie said with a small smile. “Dross experiments have increased but I don’t have access to that. I only hear rumors, and those are rare. People who spread gossip have a way of being transferred.”
“What is your department currently working on?” Cass asked.
“We’re focused on new miniaturization techniques at the moment. Specifically parts like the shield generator I installed for you. If we can make them smaller we can power more things. We’re focusing on a propulsion system at the moment.”
“Meaning?” Burke asked.
“Something like a jetpack. It’s tricky, though,” Natalie sighed. “Too much fuel will make the aegis have a weak point. Not enough and it won’t even be worth installing it.”
“You’ll get it working. You always do,” Cass said happily.
When they approached the jump gate, Burke waited at the helm. The list of their names, including Kristen, appeared on the screen. Their ship was accepted without any incident. Natalie had suggested multiple times that they spend a night on the carrier while they were in transit. Cass had agreed to watch over the ship and Rylan was almost too happy to remain alone with Kristen while they were gone. Natalie looked through th
e plethora of hotels and other establishments on the carrier and planned an elaborate night out for them. When the Brisbane was fully docked, Burke disembarked with her.
“We’re going for dinner first,” Natalie began as they walked through the carrier.
She had one of her arms locked with his. He looked up as they walked, seeing the sprawling interior of the carrier stretch up and away from them. Parts of the vessel were a complex maze of alternating gravity, a newly developed gimmick to attract more people out of their ships. Far off in the distance, he could see what looked like people walking on the walls instead of the same floor they were standing on. He hoped they would stay on one even level.
“Then I thought we could go see a show,” Natalie said. “Afterwards, we should pick up some supplies. There’s a few things I want to buy to take home with me. You could use some new clothes as well.”
Burke nodded. He knew that part was true.
“I booked us a room at one of the nicer hotels,” she said finally. “We can spend the night there and not have to worry about anyone in the room next to us.”
He came slowly to a stop next to her. She looked worried for a moment, as though she expected him to disapprove. He kissed her instead. She thought he wanted to say something but he closed his mouth and smiled.
The night went well and passed quickly for the two of them. The show had been a live performance, one of the many novelties that the jump carrier provided at extravagant cost. They passed several groups of aliens as they went shopping, most of them enclosed in environmental suits but still enjoying the amenities of the vessel. She helped him pick out some clothes, knowing well the simple style that he liked to wear.
At the hotel, they put their bags away and quickly fell onto the bed. She began to unbutton his shirt as he put his hands on her waist. She kissed him hungrily as they removed each other’s clothing. The night ended with them laying naked next to each other in the bed. She curled up, satisfied, against him and watched as he fell asleep. Then, she shifted slowly out of the bed, stopping often to see if he stirred. She prepared to walk toward the bathroom if he opened his eyes but he remained asleep. She grabbed for her shirt, pants, and bag, and slipped quickly out of the room.
She had made sure the room next to them was vacant for more than one reason. She pulled a device from her bag and extended out a connecting wire to interface with the door. It opened in seconds and she quickly moved inside. She didn’t bother turning the lights on, using the glow of the two tablet phones she pulled from the bag. She opened her personal phone and reviewed the data she had collected from Burke’s room: his entire history, as he had said, downloaded onto the device. She transferred it to the second phone with a similar connection that she used to unlock the door. When the transfer was complete, she put the phone back into her bag.
The second phone was new. She had purchased it when they had walked around the carrier, complaining to Burke that she always needed a spare. She connected the device to the network that the hotel provided to each floor, using the current room as the access point rather than the one they had rented. She began another transfer of the data and then entered a contact code from memory.
The call went through and she promptly hung up. She waited then, knowing precisely how much time to let pass before she called again. A man answered. His face appeared on the small screen of the phone. She looked down at him, knowing he could see her through the phone’s camera.
“Ambrose,” the man said slowly.
“The data is being sent to you now. I got everything that was relevant,” she said.
“Without being caught?”
She nodded.
“Good. Well done, agent.”
The man looked suddenly weary as he looked at her. It had been many months since she last saw him. She wondered if she had woken him up or that the weight of their work was showing on him more. She pushed the thought aside: this was Admiral Viscard, one of the surviving commanders that oversaw the war on Earth. If he had managed to deal with that, he could handle whatever came next.
“Anything new on ACU?” he asked.
“I think Havard suspects me,” she said. “I’d like to begin planning my exit. If I start now, I can be out within a year.”
“Begin what you can,” he said. He raised a hand to his face and rubbed under his eyes. “We’ll discuss it further on your next check in. It took us a long time to get you into ACU. We can’t throw it away unless we’re certain.”
Natalie nodded. She felt the conflict she had been wrestling with over the past week resurface. She tried to push it aside and could not. She cleared her throat.
“Agent?” Viscard asked.
“I wanted to voice that I am not pleased with my current assignment,” she said. “Everything I’ve found on Burke Monrow so far has been clean.”
“He works for ACU, Ambrose. How good could he be?”
“He doesn’t know what they do. He doesn’t know what you or I know. If he did, he would never work for Havard again. He’s a good man.”
“I think you’re biased, agent,” Viscard said curtly. “I’d like to believe you, and perhaps you’re right. We can only operate on fact, however, and Burke Monrow has helped ACU too many times to ignore. We’ll keep monitoring him. Did you install the tracer?”
“Yes,” Natalie said.
“Then you’ve done what you needed to do. I suggest you distance yourself from him now until we know more about him.”
“Sir.”
“Enjoy your time off, Ambrose. False or not.”
The transmission ended. Natalie looked grimly down at the phone. She sighed and then snapped the device in half. She placed both pieces in her bag to properly dispose of later. She crept back into the room and froze when Burke was sitting up in the bed, looking right at her as she walked through the door.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“It was too hot in here. I didn’t want to wake you up by walking around the room,” she said.
He looked up at her.
“Come here.”
She stepped forward to the bed. He grabbed her quickly, playfully, and pulled her on top of him.
“I should have asked you to visit sooner. We should have done this many times by now,” he said.
“Maybe,” she replied, smiling.
She leaned down and kissed him.
The following is a preview for the next story in the Bounty Hunter series: AI’s Rage.
Cass left her maintenance cycle. Her systems began to boot up. If she were human, it would have felt like waking up from a sleep that she didn’t want to leave. She felt sluggish and numb. Things moved slowly in the cameras around the ship, jittering forward when she lost the occasional frame rate when her systems skipped ahead. Sounds would be warped until she was fully operational. Then, in an instant, she was awake and alert. The void that she had inhabited during maintenance was forgotten.
Her consciousness filled the rooms of the ship. Her presence seeped throughout the whole vessel, like ink soaking through paper. The helm of the ship felt like her mind and was the focal point of her thoughts. It was her default position, where the heart of her processing hardware was located. If her thoughts drifted and she found herself idle—daydreaming, if she was human—she would find herself naturally at the helm. The buzzing, blipping terminals were comforting sounds. They reminded her that she was still operational.
When she embodied the battle aegis that she had been first programmed to inhabit, the torso piece felt like the largest part of her body. While she was integrated with the ship, Brisbane’s engine adopted that role. She could get lost in the complicated machinery of the engine if she wasn’t careful. Colossal amounts of power were generated and then consumed by the starship’s engine, and she could move along with it all, swept up by the hundreds of power conduits and connections.
The rest of the rooms felt like minor appendages. She could move herself to each of them if she liked, but she only did if Burke was curre
ntly occupying one. The armory, kitchen, and meeting room had little to offer her. She liked looking at the comprehensive collection of weapons that he had collected, but she had better access to virtual models of each gun that she could examine herself. She could conjure a replica of the firearm, close herself off from the cameras around the ship, and look at the object in virtual space. She could hold it in something close to hands, move it and see how it worked.
The cargo hold held the least amount of interest to her. There was the room at the back of the engine for emergency supplies, filled with crates and nothing else. There were the three bedrooms on the upper floor: Burke’s quarters, and two others that were still empty and unused. In her mind, she frowned at that. Familiarizing herself with the holographic podium in the helm had made expressions—and the thoughts and feelings that came with them—second nature to her. She had been capable of emotions before the podium, of course. She was like a human mind without a body after all. The representation of that body had simply opened up more experiences for her. She had rarely felt overwhelmingly excited or angry until she received the podium. Something about having arms and legs and features to shape and change made it much more satisfying to let her feelings run wild. She wondered what else she would learn in time.
Her thoughts returned to the empty rooms. Burke had insisted on being alone and had argued with her about the amount of bedrooms on the new ship. She remembered deceiving him and changing the order without his knowledge, including the extra bedrooms and knew he would one day change his mind. Something had happened and he had been pleased with her decision. The memory of the event danced out of her reach. Something had happened. Something important.
She felt afraid. Panicked. She shot through the different rooms of the ship like lightning arcing between the different systems, jolting from the helm to the armory and to the engine. Something was missing. She couldn’t remember what happened before her maintenance. She looked for Burke, thinking surely he would know. She looked for Burke and couldn’t find him. The helm was empty. The kitchen was empty. The bedrooms were empty. Burke’s quarters: empty. Outside the ship, they were in space, not docked inside a station. That was wrong.
The Bounty Hunter: Soldier's Wrath Page 9
