by Dana Kelly
Softly, Torsha punched Orin’s knee. “Why didn’t you tell us you were a binary?”
Orin ignited his hands for a moment. “Well, if you ever started smoking, I didn’t want you hitting me up for a light.”
“I’m being serious,” said Torsha.
“I doubt he was aware of it before that night outside the club,” said April as she approached. “I’m Marshal Deputy April Sattari. Hello, Mike. You must be Torsha.”
“Good guess,” said Torsha. “And hi. Thanks for bringing Orin back, even if I don’t completely approve of how you did it.”
April blushed slightly. “I did what I had to.”
Orin winced, but not from the pain in his arms. “I salute your sacrifice.”
With a sigh, April shifted her weight to one side. “That’s not how I meant it.”
“Of course not,” said Orin.
“I meant that I broke my promise to you!” She tapped the side of her head. “Remember? I promised I’d never enter your mind without asking, but I did anyway. That’s what I meant.”
“Ah. Okay. Cool.” Orin nodded.
“Orin…”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” said Mike, and he firmly shook April’s hand. “You look exactly like you did in my dream. I told you we’d make it!”
“I don’t seem to remember it quite like that,” said April. “But I’m thrilled you found us. I can’t thank you enough, all of you!” She leaned in close and said, “If Casey comes sniffing around, I’d appreciate it if you were light on the details of our first encounter.”
“That won’t be a problem,” said Mike.
She wore a relieved smile. “Again, thank you.”
“Where’s Blacktusk?” asked Orin.
“He’s handcuffed in the back of Casey’s shuttle, seated across from Ky,” said April. “Hey, Orin.”
“Ky? How the hell do you cuff a man with one hand?” asked Orin.
“To one of his ankles in a pinch,” said April, and she moved her hand to her waist. “But we cuffed Ky to a belt chain. Orin, listen…”
“It’s okay,” said Orin. “You don’t need to explain anything. I get it. You have a deep understanding of how my pneumonic structures work because you’ve seen them firsthand. In the end, I’m just a dumb guy, so when someone kisses me, the last thing I’m doing is thinking. With certain neurotransmitters down, you turned up the ones I needed to get my memories back. It was a good move, and like you said, you did what you had to. Thanks for rescuing me.”
“I… Um, sure,” said April.
“That reminds me,” said Torsha. “If you’re a psychic, then where’s your badge? Aren’t binaries supposed to identify themselves and show us their badge?”
“Agency binaries, sure,” said April.
“Don’t all binaries belong to the agency?” asked Torsha.
“The rules are a little different for us psychics,” said April. “We’ve been around since the earliest days of recorded history, and most of us aren’t binaries. Since the agency found themselves processing millions of additional new psychic tips and claims every year, they decided to give us a pass on mandatory inclusion. At least for anyone expressing G-class aptitude and below, that is.”
Torsha sat with arms akimbo. “Are you a binary?”
April nodded. “I am, but I only rated high-K, low-G on the MABAS scale, so I don’t get a badge.”
“Does that mean you’re powerful or not? I don’t know how any of that MABAS stuff works, to be honest,” said Torsha.
“Are you familiar with how they rate the stars in the sky?”
“Like blue, yellow, and red?” asked Torsha. “Like that?”
“That’s part of it. There’s also a letter value that describes how bright they are. M is the dimmest.” April glanced at Orin. “And O is the brightest.”
“Ah, okay, I get it,” said Torsha. “Thanks! Me and the t-net can take it from here.”
Orin got slowly to his feet and carefully stretched. He paused to look around. “Where’s Nimbus?”
Mike sniffed, and he dabbed his eyes with his sleeve. Somberly, he retrieved the orb. “He’s gone.”
“What?” Orin’s voice caught in his throat. “What are you saying?”
“One of the pirates surprised us and pulled a repurposer out of nowhere. He threatened to kill Nimbus if we didn’t surrender.” Mike shook his head. “We were already down on our knees, but Nimbus was so addled by all the electrical currents running through him that he just…” Mike popped his lips. “He dispersed, and that was that. The repurposer fried him.” He turned the orb slowly in his hands. “This is all that’s left.”
“No, Nimbus knew what he was doing,” said Torsha, and she wiped away her tears. “He knew how much he meant to us. Imagine what would’ve happened if he let us get captured. The pirates would’ve taken over Fox Mendes, and none of us would be sitting here right now.”
Mike leaned over his knees. “I hadn’t considered that. Somehow, that hurts even more.”
“Can I hold him?” asked Orin.
“Sure.” Mike passed him the orb. “Here.”
“Oh, Nimbus,” said Orin, and tears flowed freely as his body shook. “Damn it,” he breathed, and he held his friend’s remains against his forehead. “What happened to you guys out there?”
Mike and Torsha recounted the battle aboard Fox Mendes. Torsha continued with the telling of their deception aboard Blacktusk’s boarding sled, and they both spun a grim yarn of their time aboard Excrucio. “Would you like to know the last thing Nimbus said?” asked Mike.
Orin relaxed somewhat, and he sniffed. “What?”
Mike choked up and coughed away the rising sorrow. “The last thing he said…” Crushing away tears, he finally managed, “It was… He smiled, and he said, ‘Live well, always.’”
Mournfully, Orin laughed and returned the orb. “Of course.”
Torsha wiped her nose. “I don’t get it. Why would you say ‘of course’ to that?”
“Nimbus came from HealiOS,” said Mike.
“And that’s their slogan,” said Torsha. She smiled sadly. “Oh, Nimbus.”
With a cautiously hopeful look, April stepped closer. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I sensed Nimbus when you were outside the dance club on Rhyon. I’m aware of how lethal repurposers are to AIs, but they’re not necessarily deadly to DIs, and I believe Nimbus is a digital intelligence, not an artificial one.”
“His spec document says he’s an AI,” said Mike.
“Then something extraordinary must’ve happened,” said April. “I can’t sense artificial intelligences, and I distinctly sensed Nimbus.”
Torsha regarded April askance. “Can you butt out, please?”
“I just don’t want you to give up on him prematurely,” said April. “I don’t mean to kindle hope where they may be none, but if there’s even a spark of life in there, I’ll be able to sense it. Will you allow me to try?”
Torsha fumed. “He’s dead, okay? Butt out!”
Mike rested a calming hand upon her shoulder. “Torsha, it’s okay. What harm could it do?” Looking to April, he passed her Nimbus’s remains. “Here. Thank you. Please be careful with him.”
“I will be,” said April. Gracefully, she propped Nimbus within her fingertips, slowly turning him this way and that. Her awareness drifted through layers of ashen data, along crumbling logic paths and algorithmic wisps. She passed through a thick, black barrier and plummeted onto a colorful, glassy sphere. Its nucleus glowed brilliantly, and it rapidly pulsed.
Hello, Nimbus, she thought.
Unknown Visitor, please identify yourself, said Nimbus.
I’m April Sattari, the one Mike told you about when I visited your starship.
Nimbus flashed faster for a moment. April Sattari, I am unable to access relevant data indexes. How are you here?
Without your data indexes, I’m afraid you won’t understand, thought April. I don’t wish to clutter your memory with needl
ess information.
Very well, said Nimbus. April Sattari, tell me why you are here.
All your friends think you’re dead.
Nimbus flashed faster and faster, until the glassy globe filled with light. Tell… Nimbus sparked. Tell the boy I cherish his love for… Sparks showered for a moment before radiant beams painted the form of an orb weaver and her web. Tell him I live. Tell them I live.
April slammed back into her body with a gasp. It took a moment to collect herself. “Nimbus lives,” she whispered.
Mike looked astonished. “He… He’s alive?”
“He is,” said April.
“How can you be sure?” asked Torsha.
She regarded Mike with a warm smile. “He wanted me to tell you how much he cherishes your love for spiders.”
Mike laughed. “Actually, spiders give me the creeps, but that was one of his first complex forms, and I didn’t want him to feel bad. So, he’s fine? Do we just need to be patient and wait for him to reboot?”
“No,” said April. “He’s not fine. He’s in emergency mode, and he needs help. We have a gifted engineer aboard Watchtower. If there’s a way, I bet he’d know how to safely restore your friend.”
“That’s John she’s talking about,” said Malmoradan. Shona helped him over to stand next to April. He leaned against a piece of the warthog’s engine. “He goes by Cajun, and he’s as skilled as they come. Damn fine cook, too.”
Clearing her throat, Shona brushed aside her bangs. “Hey, Orin. What you did back there was…” She shook her head. “It was amazing. I just wanted to say thanks for saving our lives.” She nodded toward Malmoradan. “Especially his.”
Orin dipped his head. “Any time.”
“I owe you one,” said Shona. “We all do.”
“That goes doubly so for me,” said Malmoradan, and he offered Orin his good hand. Within it, he held a folded cloth bearing the seal of Malmoradan’s family crest. “I hereby offer you the services of a disgraced, no-good, low-life, dishonored Taig—with only one good arm—as your nientaro.”
“What’s a nientaro?” asked Orin.
“An oathbound warrior,” said Malmoradan. “It’s part of ilvalori, the ancient ocelini code of honor. First off, I want you to know that I ain’t got any regrets about adopting my baby girl out of that hellhole.” He cast Shona a proud smile. “But my birth family practically disowned me for it. I’d like the chance to bring honor to my name, and serving as your nientaro until such time as I’m able to fulfill my oath would be one hell of a step in the right direction.”
Orin blinked. “Shona’s your daughter?”
“Damn right she is,” said Malmoradan.
“Wow,” said Orin. “I do not see the resemblance, but… That’s awesome, you guys! What’s involved in being my nientaro?”
“Basically, I follow you around until I save your life,” said Malmoradan. “Whatever worthy deeds we accomplish until then, I’ll sew into my handcloth here. When my oath’s been fulfilled, and my bond released, I’ll head back to Ocely and present my stories to my house elders. If they like what they hear, my shame’ll be forgiven, and I’ll have secured a place for Shona and me in the Roaring Halls.”
“I don’t know what to say,” said Orin.
“Well, ‘yes’ would be great,” said Malmoradan.
“Yes,” said Orin, and he shook Malmoradan’s hand. “Let’s do it!”
◆◆◆
Casey watched as Orin talked and laughed with Mike, Torsha, Shona, and Malmoradan. She glanced to her left, where April stood poring over her phone. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” whispered Casey.
April chuckled quietly. “You really need to work on that.”
“No, I mean it,” said Casey.
“I’m not joking,” said April. “Malmoradan invoked the ilvalorian oath of the warrior, and Shona’s always followed his lead. Is that so surprising?”
“Not really, but with you gone, that means I’m the only one heading back to Watchtower.”
“I can stay on for a little while if you’re heading back to Rhyon,” said April. “The three of us are going in on a ship of our own. We’re going to see how much good we can do with Orin on the team, if he agrees to join.” She wore a hopeful smile. “Of course, I know how long it can take to close escrow on a starship, so I can definitely hang around long enough to train a new first mate, if you want.” She looked up from her phone. “Why the long face?”
“Why do you think?” asked Casey. “I like having you around, and Malmoradan’s been with me since the beginning. I’m the one who helped him recue Shona, for crying out loud! How am I supposed to keep doing this without you guys?”
April pocketed her phone and took Casey’s hands. “There’s a million legitimate psychics on a thousand worlds, and ocelini brutes aren’t exactly hard to come by. Space-worthy power lifters might be a little rarer, but with all the money you’re getting for Blacktusk, you’ve got plenty of time to wait it out.”
“I don’t do this for the money.”
“You sure about that?” asked April. “Did we ever take a poor man’s bounty?”
“Only once. Right before you came on,” said Casey, and she looked away. “Cajun’s going to have a lot of shanties to write.”
“I’m sure he’s up for it,” said April. “Which reminds me! I need to ask him if he’ll pay us a visit aboard Fox Mendes and have a look at Nimbus. Captain Aguirre got the okay from her superiors to escort Watchtower back to Rhyon if that’s where you’re headed next. If not, maybe you can lend us Cajun for a couple days?”
“Yeah. Sure,” said Casey. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“What did I do wrong?”
April hugged Casey affectionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You turned back when it mattered most and saved my life more times than I can count. Orin and I will always be grateful for your courage. We’re just ready to try something new. In five years when we’re all scarred and penniless, I’m sure we’ll come crawling back.”
“One year,” said Casey. “I give it one year, tops.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said April. She laughed quietly as she pulled away.
“Make that six months,” said Casey, and she smiled slightly as April hurried toward the others.
“Good news,” said April. “Captain Aguirre authorized the surgery!” They cheered and shared a round of high-fives.
Casey felt her phone buzz, and she opened a video channel. It featured a bespectacled fellow with narrow shoulders, a pressed lab coat, and a MABAS badge hanging from the lanyard around his neck. “Hi there! My name is Dr. Julian Lee from the Ministry of Advanced Binary and Applied Sciences. This message is for Cassiopeia Andromeda Cartwright, deputy contractor badge number 17150E. If you’re not her, please stop the playback, or risk up to a year in federal prison, a fine of up to two hundred thousand Galactic Credits, or both.”
The screen prompted biometric validation, and Casey smirked at the camera. When the call resumed, Dr. Lee reappeared, tapping his foot impatiently. “Officer Cartwright, you’ve deviated from your flight plan without filing a revision. I must remind you that your prisoner is expected. You have until the end of the month to deliver him, or we’ll be forced to issue a warrant for your—”
Angrily, she switched off her phone and shoved it in a belt pouch. “This is just what I need,” she grumbled, and she glared at the overhead. Almost as if in response, the hangar bay’s lights came back on, and everything powered up.
With a slight smile, Casey approached Ikunku, Sturmhardt, Misaki and Shulana as they lingered near the shuttle Ergo. Ikunku wore a flowing long coat over his shoulders, with his broken prosthetic and its harness piled on the nearby boarding ramp. Their conversation quickly faded as Casey drew close, and she focused her attention on Shulana. “Where are the others?”
“Mayfield and Laz are in triage. As for Ostonk, he turned against me during the fight.
Bloodtusk’s been his best friend for years, and it seems he’s thrown his fortune in with that oversized skítkast.” She nodded toward the hallway airlock. “You can find him with the rest of the prisoners if that’s why you’re here. Spit on him for me, will you?”
“I’m not here for Ostonk,” said Casey. “I’m here for you and Ikunku, and one of your friends. Three spots opened up on my crew, and I’m offering long-term employment if you’ll join.”
Shulana crossed her arms. “Why me?”
“To be perfectly honest, both of my lifters quit, and while sudasau men are famous for their strength and speed, it’s a closely guarded secret that the women are even stronger and faster. Since you’re not spending your life cloistered in one of the castles on Taht’Alqamar, I’d wager you don’t keep your strength a secret.”
Shulana laughed, and her pointed ears reddened slightly. “No, I guess I don’t.”
“I get why you’re asking her to join, but you should know my rig isn’t specced for lifting,” said Ikunku. He tossed back one of his sleeves to reveal his stump and offered Casey a look at the neural interface. “This thing’s a Spyri arm. Basically, it’s a multi-tool.” He glanced sidelong at the ruins of his prosthetic. “Or it used to be, anyway.”
“If you join my crew, our engineer will repair your Spyri arm,” said Casey. “If you’re willing to diversify a little, he can build you a lifting attachment and a brute harness too. All for free. What do you think?”
“Shoot, I’m in,” said Ikunku.
Shulana shook her head. “I wish I could, but not if it means Saki or Sturmhardt gets left behind. Sorry.”
Casey retrieved her datapad and typed in a series of numbers. “This is how much salary I can offer, combined. Of course, each of you will get a share of the bounties we collect, but this is it for base pay. It’s just this side of insulting split three ways, so you can see why I didn’t want to offend anyone by offering a four-way split. I guess if you’re willing to—”
“That’s so much money,” said Misaki.
“You have to split it four ways,” said Casey.
“I know! Even still, it’s way more money than Blacktusk was paying. How much are meals and rent?” asked Misaki.
