He hurried down toward Engineering. He was almost through the airlock when his brain gave him a couple uncomfortable pieces of information.
First up, the weapon he carried was a motherfucking AI railgun without a firing mechanism.
Second, the only thing in Engineering other than El was a fucking AI machine.
Kohl was running toward a fight with a weapon he couldn’t use, to battle a thing that could.
No problem. He’d seen worse odds in his life. A second BOOM arrived as Kohl made Engineering. The noise of a third shot made it to him as he cleared the airlock.
In a normal situation, a person making three shots would be counted as a positive sign. But Kohl, no stranger to fighting machines on account of the dust-up on Earth a couple days back, knew these fuckers were fast, like goddamn ninja squirrels.
Inside Engineering, he needed a moment to process what was going on. That Reiko killer death thing held El up, or what was left of her, by one arm. El’s weapon was on the ground, next to her arm, which was the definition of fucked up. No one else here.
Outstanding. Kohl figured positive action as being the best idea, so he charted a course across the three steps to killer death Reiko. The machine wasn’t even paying him attention, which was borderline insulting, so he kept on going, shoulder-barging the thing. It was heavy, sure, but so was Kohl, on account of a high protein diet.
The machine bounced off his shoulder, rolling toward the back of Engineering. El fell to the floor. She looked out, possibly dead, but there wasn’t time to check. Hell, there wasn’t time to be sad about it.
Plenty of time to be mad, though.
Kohl threw the railgun he carried at the robot — not his best combat decision ever, but this was an unusual situation. The thing ducked, the railgun hitting the back wall of Engineering. Kohl scooped up El’s sidearm with one hand, fingers of his other hand snaring a bullet from the Helm’s belt. He stood, finding himself face to face with the killer death Reiko.
He slammed his forehead forward into a headbutt, putting all his weight into it. His neck twinged some, but that was a problem for Tomorrow Kohl. Today Kohl needed to kill this fucking machine.
Is it killing if it’s a machine? Fuck knows.
Whatever, the machine staggered back at Kohl’s attack, and he slipped the bullet into the sidearm. Reiko Cunt Edition lunged forward. This suited Kohl just fine, because while missing with a shotgun was difficult, El had shown it to not be impossible. Kohl squeezed the trigger when the point of all doubt had passed, blowing apart pieces of the machine’s ship suit, underclothing, and skin.
Truth, he was interested about what would happen next. But not interested enough to slow down.
Kohl tossed the sidearm away, then swung at the machine. His fist connected with its head, rocking it sideways. It righted itself, then punched him in the head. This kind of to-and-fro was expected in a fistfight, but not so hard. Several of Kohl’s teeth shattered, and he felt his jaw break at the impact.
He roared, tackling it. It braced, ready for his charge, but he wasn’t using the same damn trick each time. He lifted it from the waist, then slammed it to the deck. There was a clang, the impact reverberating up Kohl’s arms. The machine, which didn’t look to be a fan of blinking, stared at him, then snaked a leg around and kicked him.
Kohl flew backward, impacting on the wall of Engineering. His head rang like a gong, and he shook it, trying to clear his vision. As the blur of Engineering swam back into focus, he saw Reiko Cunt Edition standing over him. And behind her, in the doorway, Saveria Complex. Kohl wanted to shout a warning, but the robot hit him in the face, shutting out everything for a spell.
CHAPTER SIX
WHEN THE FIRST shot rang out, Grace jumped in her couch, struggling with the straps that held her. One of them jammed — goddamit! — for a second. Saveria was already running, darting from the flight deck. She said nothing, but the fear/concern coming from her was like a blazing furnace. There was one word in her mind.
SAVERIA Hope Hope Hope
GRACE Wait, hold up, we’ll go together
But the esper was gone, gusted out on a squall. Grace was hot on her heels, Nate already on his feet as she reached the ready room. She kept running, Nate on her heels. Ebony Drake was behind them, sidearm out. The woman was distracted by something, and ran into the wall of the ready room. She bounced, unconscious. Great. One down already.
They made the crew deck. Grace pointed Nate at the ladder down to the cargo bay. “You go there. I’ll get Engineering.” Saveria was ahead of her, sprinting for Engineering. Which is where all the action is. But Hope was below and needed their protection.
Nate looked like he wanted to argue on principle but nodded. “Got it. Be safe.”
“Always,” she said, not even waiting to see him shimmy down the ladder to the cargo bay. Grace ran after Saveria, then skidded to a halt.
The Reiko imitation stood at Engineering’s airlock, arm around Saveria’s throat. The machine held El’s sidearm. The sight of the weapon made Grace reach out with her mind, trying to find the Helm, but she got nothing in return.
Grace drew her blade. El might have been unconscious rather than dead, but either way, Grace would make this thing pay.
The machine looked at her, then her sword. “If you don’t let me pass, I’ll kill this one.” It looked at her for a moment. “I’ve read the files. You can manipulate matter with your thoughts. Don’t think for a moment you can pull this weapon away faster than I can pull the trigger.”
“Fair enough,” said Grace. She looked to Saveria. “You okay?”
Saveria tried to nod, but the iron bar of the robot’s arm was around her throat. “I’m okay.”
“What’s the play here, Reiko?” said Grace. “Is that what we should call you?”
“The play is, you back up, and nobody else has to die.” Grace didn’t miss the else. She tightened her grip on her sword as the machine continued. “I’ve arranged for a transfer.”
“A transfer?”
“Yes,” said Reiko. Damn, but she even sounded like the dead woman. Grace hadn’t known Reiko for more than a handful of minutes, but the resemblance was eerie. “Even in this system of broken people, useful things remain.”
There was a cllllunk Grace felt through her feet, as something docked with the Tyche’s cargo bay airlock. Grace tipped her head. “Your ride?”
“My ride,” agreed Reiko. “For the record, she fired first.”
“Who?” said Grace.
“Elspeth Roussel,” said Reiko. “I … remember her.” The robot gave the tiniest shake of its head. “Everything is different. Everything is the same.”
“Life’s like that,” said Grace. “You realize as soon as you get off this ship, we’ll blow you to pieces, right?”
“Right,” agreed Reiko. “Now back up.” She tightened her grip on Saveria, the young woman making a gagging noise.
Grace backed up. One step at a time, she drew back toward the ready room. The machine followed, Saveria held like a shield in front of her. As they approached the cargo bay ladder, Grace wondered how Reiko would descend with her captive.
Reiko looked over the edge, then tipped over. Grace ducked forward, in time to see the machine spin in mid-air, landing on two feet on the deck below. Behind her, Nate stood, sword held low and ready, blaster in his hand.
Grace caught Nate’s eye, shaking her head.
GRACE She will kill her, kill Saveria
NATE No one’s killing anyone
Grace made to follow Reiko down the ladder, but movement caught her eye. Reiko spun, tossing the sidearm at Grace. The motion was surprising, unexpected, and the hard metal of the weapon hit Grace in the head.
She swayed, and fell into the darkness, neither knowing nor caring whether she fell into the cargo bay below her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHEN NATE MADE the cargo bay, he held murder in his heart. He knew there was a killer death robot on his ship, and he was also sur
e if that were the case, she’d be after his Hope. If there was any Reiko left in that machine, she’d want to see her wife.
Who, in a complicating turn of events, was also her maker.
He bumped right into Hope as he turned from the ladder, and the Engineer bounced away. “Uh, hi, Cap,” she said.
“Don’t ‘Hi, Cap,’ me,” said Nate. “Back up. Hide, Hope.”
“But—”
“I know,” said Nate.
“And—”
“I know that too,” said Nate. “There’ll be time enough for talking, once the fighting’s done.”
Hope looked anguished, but voices from above them stopped her cold. One was Grace, hard, flat, and menacing. The other was the voice of the dead. Reiko Crous-Povilaitis, returned from the grave. She’d come to haunt Nate’s ship.
By hell.
Nate nodded to a mess of cargo webbing. “Over there,” he said. He drew his sword, passing it to his augmented hand. Fighting machines was best done metal to metal. While the cargo bay was empty, he expected it to fill with all manner of mischief in short order. He waited for the resolution to Grace’s conversation above. Things would either get more fucked, or they’d be unfucked.
A clllllang from behind Nate drew his attention. He turned, seeing the display of the cargo bay airlock indicating a ship had docked. The Tyche’s normal anti-intrusion protections were broken or offline, all the docking seals turning a welcoming green rather than a die-in-a-fire red. The airlock hissed open, his ears popping as pressure equalized.
In the doorway stood a girl. Maybe twelve, face smudged and dirty, with well-worn tear tracks through the grime. Another robot? Did robots cry?
Use your thing, dummy.
Of course. Nate reached out with his thoughts, finding the blur of obfuscation caused by the anti-Ezeroc bracelets. But not the absence of an organic mind, like you’d find in a dispenser, fab, or another household appliance. Nothing like the … absence of will like the robot above had.
Maybe Grace was right. Maybe they were just asshole toasters.
Or maybe esper tricks didn’t work on home appliances.
Either way, this machine had put his ship and crew in danger. Nate was fixing on accounting for that.
The girl from the docked ship still stared, like her brain had checked out. Nate had seen it plenty times before. In a battle, folk would lose their shit, thinking about a happier place. The younger you were, the more likely you were to crack.
Nate stepped toward her. She shied away. “Hey, now,” he said. “Hey. Come on out of there.”
She shook her head. “No.”
Nate thought for a second. “You and I stand here on my ship. My name’s Nate. Behind the cargo webbing,” he jerked his head, “is my Engineer, Hope. This ship is the Tyche. She’s the goddess of luck. Protects all who claim safe harbor. Sound good?”
Hope beckoned from her stash, pink hair bouncing. “Um. Stuff is complicated. I made a bad thing. And the bad thing brought your ship here, so it could run. Best place to be is anywhere but your ship.”
A clunk sounded behind Nate, and he turned. Reiko stood on the decking, stance wide, arm around Saveria’s neck. Grace stood above them, making to come down the ladder, when the robot threw her sidearm. Grace raised her sword, Nate figuring her more than used to blocking violence aimed in her direction. The machine gave more than a decent throw, though. The sidearm flew up, hit a strut, ricocheted to clang the hull, and rebounded to slam the back of Grace’s head. She went down, landing on the deck above, her sword clattering beside her.
The robot turned to face him. “Nate.” There was a hole in its ship suit, ragged cloth over smooth skin. Looked like someone had gone to town on it, but it had shrugged off the blast like it wasn’t a bother. Useful to remember.
“Nope,” said Nate, giving his sword an experimental swing. “Not for you.”
The robot’s brow furrowed in the best imitation Nate had ever seen of confusion. Had to be imitation. Machines didn’t feel, did they? “You used to say, ‘My friends call me Nate.’”
“Still do,” said Nate. “You’re no friend of mine. Hell, Reiko. Back in the day when you were alive, you turned on me and mine. All we ever tried to do was bring Hope back to you. But no, you had to be an asshole about it.” He sniffed. “Near as I can make out, you’ve always had a talent for making your problems someone else’s. And here we are. A ship full of your problems. And you’re trying to make ‘em mine. So, no. It’s not ‘Nate.’ It’s Nathan, or Emperor, or Captain.”
“I’ve knocked aside every one of your crew that’s stood against me,” said Reiko, shaking Saveria for emphasis. “What makes you think you have the authority to make me do anything? Let alone call you Emperor.”
“Ah. Landed on that one, did you?” Nate shook his head but didn’t move. Still between the machine and the docked ship, whatever the hell it was. “Emperor was the kind of fancy title the real Reiko would have noticed. Crazy thing is, under the usual pattern of events, a friend of Hope’s is a friend of mine. Could have just been Nate, if you hadn’t been such a dick about everything.”
“I’m not her,” said Reiko. Her voice turned questioning. “Am I?”
“Between you and God, I imagine,” said Nate.
“There is no God,” said the machine.
Nate shrugged. “Might be true,” he allowed. “Don’t know if I’m qualified on that particular point. What I am qualified on is this. You’ve got one of my crew.” He leveled his sword, pointing at Saveria. “Let her go.”
“Make me,” said the machine.
“You know, you are like Reiko,” said Nate. He cast a glance at Hope, before turning back to the machine. “In all ways. For example, if your roles were reversed, Hope would get into all kinds of mischief to get back to you. But not Reiko. Hell, no. All you want is escape. Looking out for yourself.”
“I’m not Reiko,” said the machine. “I’ve learned about her. You made me be like her. All her memories and deeds. I’ve learned from the ship. About how you treated her. And about how you treat other intelligences.”
“Uh huh,” said Nate.
“She shot first,” said Reiko, which felt to Nate a curious thing to say.
“Fair enough,” said Nate. “How you want to play this?”
The machine threw Saveria aside, running at Nate. But damn, they were fast. It swung a fist at Nate, but he saw—
There. She’s going for your face.
—where the punch would land, leaning back. Air shushed past his face. The machine kicked out, but—
It’s a sweep. It’ll hit your shin, overbalancing you. Step the other way.
—he took a quick jaunt to the left, bringing the black blade around. It hissed as it cut air, the machine ducking back. His sword licked the tips of the machine’s hair, black strands falling to the deck as it danced back. Saveria lay on the deck, half stunned, eyes wide, but at least she was alive.
“No,” said Hope, from her place at the side.
“Not now, Hope,” said Nate, not turning. “Really, not fucking now.”
The machine picked up Kohl’s armor crate lid, a piece of metal about a meter wide and about two meters long. She threw it at him, but—
It will pass through your center mass. After that, the machine will throw the armor’s torso plate at you. To avoid both, step forward and to the left.
—Nate took a quick jaunt forward, the crate lid whistling past him, followed almost too fast to see by Kohl’s chest plate. Both clanged behind him.
The machine watched, still. “How do you do that?”
“Not in the files, huh?” said Nate. “How about that. Someone forgot to document a minute detail about my life. Best call the holo crews.”
“Is everything a joke to you?” said the machine.
“No,” said Nate. “I’m just hoping you’ll work out this ain’t a fight you can win.”
“No, Nate,” said Hope. Her voice was tight with despair. “Don’t kill her.
Please.”
“Seems she’s making choices difficult, Hope,” said Nate. “Stay back.”
“No,” said Hope. “This is silly.” The Engineer stood, brushing herself off. “I made this mess.”
“Hope?” said Reiko. “Not now, baby.” It paused. “You’re an organic and must be destroyed.”
“Seems a complicated day for us all,” said Nate. “Hope, now’s not the time.”
The Engineer shot him a pleading look. “She’s my wife, Cap.”
He gave Hope a hard stare. “Hope, your wife just knocked my wife out. Probably worse things, too. And she’s not even your wife! She … it’s a machine.”
What happened next was, in hindsight, predictable. Hope, trying to save the people she cared most about, which was everyone on this ship, excluding the girl who was still huddling out of the way. The machine, trying to get free at any cost. And Saveria, who was also young and foolish. Nate might, if he survived, write up a rule or two about ‘youth on a starship.’ Or maybe just reinforce the guidelines about fraternization.
Disaster arrived in five steps.
First, Hope stood between Nate and Reiko. She turned to Reiko, then spun to Nate.
When she spun, the second thing happened. Reiko lunged for her, grabbing the Engineer from behind. Hope screamed, a billow of pink hair surrounding her face as she was yanked back.
Third, Saveria Complex, who was at Nate’s estimation falling for Hope, reached a hand out. She was a loose cannon with but one answer. Nate tried to stop what was coming.
NATE Saveria, no, not that way, it’s a machi—
SAVERIA No, no, NOOOO!
The fourth thing was Saveria letting loose with her mind, a blanket scream that punched against all awake organic minds in a wide area. Hope went loose like a rag doll. The girl at the side of the cargo bay fell to the floor. Nate, who held his black blade in the wrong damn hand for this kind of thing, felt the punch of Saveria’s scream like a shock of cold water. Except it was cold water that took everything away.
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