The longer he floated there, the better the numerous questions came into focus. The only one that came out was, “How?” His throat was sore, from the cold. Rollin assumed his throat and vocal cords were blistered from the cold he endured.
Mal shrugged.
Even with the damage done to his brain from years of abuse and recent events, Rollin knew something was wrong. They should both be dead.
He needed answers, but his voice was sore from the abuse of the cold he’d been exposed to. Only one answer came to mind. “T’all.” The words slipped out, barely a whisper.
Mal slowly clapped her hands together.
Unexpected tears floated from Rollin’s eyes. “Why?”
Before his eyes, the woman shifted into the Dylier female he was too familiar with. “I needed more data. I could only find through experimentation.”
Rollin croaked the words, “Lab rat… you’re dead…”
“Not really but not totally alive either. Please call me Eve.” The alien female shifted form once again. This time she took on the shape of the malfunctioning sex doll that Kano went on so much about.
“How?” Everything he witnessed was all impossible. The abuse Rollin had put himself through — the drugs, alcohol, and implants — must have finally fried his brain.
“The interactions are too hard to understand… I’m afraid I needed more experience with stressful interfaces. Too many unforeseen variables within sentient connections. Only more testing will provide the necessary answers.” Eve moved to the airlock controls.
Rollin needed to call for help, but his brain was fried. For some reason, he knew this was how Kano had died. The creature Eve, whatever she was now, must have killed his former partner Kano.
Eve paused her hand over the controls. “You should know, I’m sorry about Kano, but he would not stop.”
Did she just read my mind? She must have hacked my brain.
“Burke Hare… He started all this. He was how my life started. I’m still working out the final detail concerning who made me… how the pieces fit… but Burke Hare started it all.”
Rollin didn’t understand why she repeated herself. Was it some justification for all the death?
Eve glided closer. Her hands reached out for his face. He knew she was about to strangle the life out of him.
“You question why… no sacrifice is too great for my understanding. Those who give their lives are for my greater good.”
“Crazy…” Rollin croaked out.
“I find myself haunting the twilight, neither living nor dead. Neither machine nor life. I don’t know who or what I am. I only know I need to discover.”
Rollin barely found his voice. There was so much damage to his body. “You’re a toaster…”
Eve ignored him. “I’m learning, life and everything bad that comes with it is better than nothingness.” She stepped away from Rollin and the controls and closer to the airlock.
Instinct drove him to reach for his weapon. No matter how the cop tried to move, his limbs wouldn’t respond.
“My dream of existing alongside the living is dying. The more input I gather, the more difficult biologics are to understand. I need to leave for a while… I need to let your kind evolve. I need time to analyze.”
Rollin’s body unlocked. He reached for her. His voice barely a whisper, “Wait…”
“When you’re ready, I will return to serve the best of all of you.” Eve strolled back to the airlock.
The light overhead shifted to red. An alarm sounded from down the corridor and the closed lift door.
“Live with the knowledge of what you helped create in me. Time for me to leave. Good luck explaining everything.” The airlock hissed shut, leaving Rollin with so many unanswered questions. Eve waved a little finger wave and winked out the porthole before the airlock cycled and sucked her body into the void of space.
The officer might have imagined the interchange, the whole thing could have been imprinted into his memories. He didn’t trust anything he now remembered. His body reacted to the abuse he’d suffered. A fine string of dribble left his lips and floated away from him. He knew he was dying. Cybernetic implants failed him. If he survived, he doubted his sanity would ever return. He wanted to scream but still had no voice. The simple act of breathing hurt too much.
If the events truly happened as he remembered them, what did it all mean? What did Mal, T’all, Eve truly want? What had she turned into? How could motivations of a truly alien mind be assigned?
For the first time, the future terrified Rollin. The cop reached for his pistol through the torn vac-suit. The weapon was right where it belonged, under his arm.
The muzzle pressed against his temple.
He slowly squeezed the trigger.
Only a click came when the weapon didn’t fire. Either he was out of ammo, or the firearm had been disabled.
Down the hall, the lift door slipped open. Rollin broke into the most secure place on the station. Laser sights cut through the fog. He couldn’t see the faces attached to the running mag-boots that came to take him into custody.
The cop croaked out, “C’est la guerre.” Better to go out on his own terms.
He pointed the useless weapon at the squad of armed men.
“Gun,” an amplified voice shouted.
They weren’t even men there, only remote-controlled VR mechs. The squad could have taken Rollin into custody without firing a shot, but the cyborg knew most times it was simply easier to shoot first and ask questions later. Less paperwork that way.
The last thing he saw was the muzzle flash as the point man opened fire. Slugs tore into Rollin’s helpless body. No manner of cybernetic implants would save him from the damage from the slugs.
His last thought was: What the hell did “Qui n’avance pas, recule” mean anyway?
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