by C. Gockel
The man with the blade to his throat shrieked, but the man running toward her didn’t stop. Before she could curse, Noa heard a hiss by her ear; Carl Sagan launched himself from her shoulder and he landed on the man’s chest. Hanging onto the guy with all his ten sets of claws, he dug his teeth into the soft spot between the man’s shoulder and neck. The man grabbed the werfle and threw him to the side. She heard Carl Sagan’s body thud against something but could not look. Readjusting her hand on her blade and the root addict’s collar, she tried to think of another way to use her human shield. Before any great ideas came to her, the man Carl Sagan had bit swayed, put a hand on his neck, and collapsed. The man who’d been lumbering behind him drew to a stop. He was huge, taller than James, and broader. Noa’s training could overcome strength and weight advantages … but there was something in the way he looked down at his fallen comrade … his gaze was unhurried, observant, and suggested he knew what he was doing. His voice rumbled, “You didn’t milk your werfle’s venom.” He tsked. “Irresponsible.”
Trying to stall for time, Noa said, “Werfles are smart. They know when to bite.”
The man chuckled. Noa’s hostage whimpered but Noa didn’t take her eyes from the man she was facing. His clothing was skin tight, head and face were clean shaven; he’d be difficult to get a hold of. Her eyes dropped to his waist. He was carrying a stunner, she noted enviously … but he wasn’t aiming it. Her eyes snapped up to his, and he grinned, showing all his teeth. He was a man who liked to fight. Lizzar dung.
The other who’d been dragging James came forward. “What’s going on, Tiny?” he asked the big guy, his eyes narrowing at Noa. This new man had a thinner face and a rounder belly. Noa took him to be the leader.
The inaptly nicknamed Tiny rolled his shoulders and tilted his head from side to side, cracking the bones in his neck. “I think someone wants to play with us.” He took a step forward.
Noa drew back, pulling her hostage with her. “Don’t come closer,” she snarled. Her quarry screamed, struggled, went still, but continued to whimper. The odor of burning skin wafted beneath her nose. Nodding towards James, she said, “You are going to let my friend and me go.”
There was another man in the group standing behind Tiny and his pal. He had gray hair around his temples and was short but muscular. His eyes were shifting side to side and sweat gleamed on his brow.
“Boss?” Tiny said, inclining his head to the man beside him.
Boss smirked at Noa. “Go ahead, cut him. The addict’s useless to us anyway.”
The man in her grip sobbed, and she smelled piss. “Please, Boss!” he cried.
Noa gulped. Nebulas, they were calling her bluff.
Ambling back to James, Boss yanked his arm. “We’re going to take him to spare parts.”
Noa’s jaw dropped in horror. “You’ll kill him!” she shouted.
“Take care of her, Tiny,” Boss said, dragging James across the floor.
Tiny stamped his feet, like a female lizzar in heat getting ready for a showdown. Letting go of her quarry’s collar, Noa flipped the knife around to his back and poked him with the point. Not something that would kill him, but would hurt like hell. With a yelp, he sprang forward, colliding with Tiny. Noa rushed forward, slashed out with the knife, clipped Tiny’s side, and spun away. Tiny turned and roared, “You’ll pay for that.”
Noa was already spinning behind the jumping root addict again. Tiny aimed a fist, not at Noa, but at her “shield.” His fist hit the addict’s face, and he crumpled to the floor, leaving no one for Noa to hide behind. Tiny smiled down at her, and Noa danced backward. Lizzar dung, she needed a plan.
“The hell with this,” she heard someone say. She heard a thunk, looked beyond Tiny, saw James's head hit the floor and bounce, and the holographic necklace go dark, his blonde hair and pale skin visible to all.
One of the men swore and kicked James’s side. “One of the Luddy throwbacks!”
Noa, gasped, and in that instant, Tiny lunged.
Noa barely slipped away. Snapping her attention to her opponent, she prepared to slash him with the knife while his momentum carried him forward. Her arm lifted. She heard a phaser go off and felt fire in her wrist. The knife slid from her hand. She hissed in pain, the hand that should have delivered a painful blow curling uselessly. Tiny grabbed her injured wrist and yanked, spinning her so her back was to the bar. The holder of the phaser shouted, “Stop, Tiny, and get out of the way, or I’ll phaser you, too!”
Tiny did stop. Noa didn’t. Ignoring her injured wrist, she dropped to the floor to avoid the phaser fire, pushed herself up on her hands, flipped to her side, and aimed a heel at his knee, ignoring the pain in her wrist. He hopped over her feet and backward, out of range. Her injured wrist choose that moment to slip. Instead of swinging back to her feet, Noa landed on her backside and cursed. She’d hoped to grab Tiny’s stunner when he fell and take shelter behind his bulk. Instead she was lying on the floor, back to the bar, staring up at a phaser pistol completely unprotected. Its owner, the man with the gray hair, was visibly shaking. She’d thought that his aim had been incredibly good when he hit her wrist. Now she thought perhaps it was just incredibly bad and she’d gotten incredibly lucky.
“She’s mine to play with!” Tiny roared.
Shaking behind the phaser, the nervous guy’s face crumpled. “No one’s playing with anyone. She gets a clean death.”
Tiny snarled. “Boss, you said—”
“We don’t have time for this,” Boss snapped.
Noa barely noticed. Her eyes had fallen on James. She couldn’t see much beyond the top of his tousled head, but his pale blue eyes were open and unblinking. With a thought, she sent her contingency plans for her death to Lieutenant Manuel. Her heart reached for James. “James, I’m sorry,” she whispered. Some were brave in word but not in deed. James wasn’t brave in words, but in deed he was always true. Your side always, darling. She sucked in a long breath through her teeth. Not caring if Ghost was listening, she let her feelings fly between them through the ether: love, shame, sorrow, and a plea. “My ruse failed … probably because I never got a chance for you to tell me how stupid it was. I’m so sorry, James, please forgive me.”
Nervous man took a step forward, softly chanting, “Stay still, stay still, I’ll let you die quickly …”
* * *
“Abort the project.” The words jumped into James’s mind with brilliant clarity. They weren’t in Basic, English, or Japanese. It was the same strange language of static he’d heard when they’d flown through Time Gate 8.
“Failure,” said another one of the voices. And James agreed. He’d failed. In his mind his neurons and nanos flickered. Failed at what?
“He isn’t exhausted yet. Let the data collection continue.”
“It’s pointless. They are the enemy. Humans are not to be trusted.” James felt like this static came faster, more rushed. Static shouldn’t have a personality … he found himself thinking it might be right. He himself wasn’t particularly noble, and Noa had abandoned him at the last, despite all of her seeming heroism, because he was … he was … he was, what? Maybe she couldn’t help herself. Humans were unable to show compassion to others outside their own group; wasn’t her home world’s recent genocide, and all genocides for that matter, proof of that?
Another slower, calmer consciousness poured into the river of sound. “Even if that is true, more data is important, Eight.”
“You think as One you know more. But you don’t see their true nature.”
One? Eight? “You are the time gates,” James's mind whispered.
“Of course,” said another voice in the static.
“Shhhhh ... Three,” said another.
Eight's voice overwhelmed the others. “We should destroy them, we should destroy them all!”
Even after all that had happened he wanted to say, “No, not Noa.”
The voices continued to argue, so fast and furiously that James could not keep trac
k. He felt tired. He wanted to go home. Home … where was that?
Noa’s whisper cut through the wave of sound. “I’m sorry, James.”
At her whisper, James wanted to rise, wanted to move, but he couldn’t. His eyes were open, but his vision was filmy. A horrid vision of the sex ‘bot’s grimy, unblinking eye came to his mind.
The rushing of static halted, and then one of the voices said, “Such a strange association. You … we ... are not that.”
James barely heard because at exactly that moment, Noa’s emotions flooded his mind. Love, sorrow, fear, sadness, and shame, and then came her words. “My ruse failed … probably because I never got a chance for you to tell me how stupid it was. I’m so sorry, James, please forgive me.”
It was her … and so her … even the self-deprecating gallows humor. What had he been thinking? Starmen never left Starmen behind. Noa hadn’t abandoned him. She wouldn’t—it was not in her nature—it was against her programming. His nanos felt as though they’d caught fire.
He heard Reggie chant softly, “Stay still, stay still, I’ll let you die quickly …”
And then there was an angry bark from the man who’d held the phaser against his back. “Out of my way. I’ll kill her myself,” and he had to get up, but his body remained motionless, dead weight.
His mind screamed, “She was trying to help me! Let me go to her!”
“Interesting,” said One.
“No!” buzzed Eight.
“I want more data,” buzzed another.
“We’re better off without them,” said another.
“They are not useful to us.”
“But I’m curious.”
“Disengage.”
“I require more data,” said another.
“It will be interesting. Let him up.”
“Be done with it,” hissed another.
“We’re tied,” said One.
Through eyes rapidly collecting dust, James stared at chair legs. His mind hissed, his skin heated, and his mind screamed, “I decide my own fate!”
* * *
“Quick death, quick death …” The man with the shaking hands said. Noa should bargain with him, but she was furious at these people. They’d killed James, were greedy cut-throats, and deserved to die. She couldn’t feel the pain in her hand anymore through her fury. She remembered the chair to her right. She could still move her injured fingers. She’d roll in that direction, out of his shaky aim, grab the chair, use it as a shield and—
“I’ll kill her myself!” Boss barked, thundering into her path, and Noa found herself staring up at a barrel that wasn’t shaking, aimed at her forehead. She knew her time was up, but she wouldn’t give them the pleasure of her fear. Instead she spat at him.
Boss snorted but didn’t blink. She saw his finger tense, and then from behind him came a shout. Boss turned his head for just an instant. Noa rolled, grabbed the chair with both hands, and flung it toward him. It hit him in the back and bounced off. She prepared for him to turn … but he didn’t. Tiny, who was suddenly hurtling at him, had a look of surprise on his face.
Noa got out of the way just as Tiny’s body impacted with Boss's, making him stumble backward over the overturned chair. Both of them thudded to the floor and went sliding into the bar with the force of the fall. Noa had the presence of mind to grab Boss’s phaser as he passed.
“Stop!” cried Nervous Guy.
Sitting up, Noa aimed Boss’s phaser at the nervous man, the only one of the three still standing. His phaser was aimed at her head, still shaking, but his eyes were sliding away to a familiar figure, his dirty blonde hair shining in the light. James’s chin was dipped, his jaw shifted, and he said calmly, “Kill her and I’ll kill you … think of your children, Reggie.”
Tiny groaned and Noa swallowed. How could he be awake—James had stolen his stunner and knocked him out before flinging him across the room—hadn’t he? Tiny muttered, “What happened?” and she was afraid to turn and look.
She heard Boss curse behind her and felt fear trickling through her anger. Boss wouldn’t hesitate to kill—but she couldn’t turn around, not with Reggie’s upraised phaser pointed at her. Reggie could turn it on James in an instant. “Take it easy, we can talk this out, Reggie,” she said, sliding to her feet as gracefully as she could while keeping the phaser aimed at him. Reggie’s eyes widened, and his hand trembled, but he didn’t shoot. Over the ether she called to James. “Forget Reggie, watch Boss and Tiny.”
The thought was barely through her consciousness when James became a blur. Reggie swung his phaser in the direction James had been, and Noa darted forward. From Tiny and Boss’s direction, she heard the crack of bone, but she was focused on getting her phaser pressed to Reggie’s skull.
“Drop it,” she commanded.
Reggie dropped his weapon and threw up his hands. “I didn’t shoot! I didn’t shoot!” he cried. She heard another thud and crack.
Her eyes slid to Tiny and Boss. Tiny had been on top of Boss, belly first, but now he was strewn out on his back. His eyes were open. She smelled blood. Boss was lying on his back, too, pretty much in the spot where he’d fallen. He was unmoving. His eyes were at half-mast, unblinking. His skull looked like an egg that had been knocked a couple of times but hadn’t quite cracked. Noa knew instantly what had happened. In hand-to hand-combat training, every other move for permanently disabling an opponent ended with, “And then stomp on his head!”
James was stalking toward her. He must have seen the direction of her gaze because he said, “They would have killed you.”
And him. And a stun wouldn’t incapacitate them for very long. They might not have caught James, but stolen augment dealers in a place like this … How many augments had they killed already?
“They’re better dead,” Noa muttered. She wished she could have stomped on their heads herself.
His eyes went to her wrist. “You’re hurt.”
“Doesn’t hurt,” she lied. But her fleet nanos were working, she could tell … otherwise the pain would have been completely unmanageable.
James’s eyes slid to Reggie.
“No!” the man screamed and fell to his knees. “Please!”
“What about him?” said James.
“I have kids … you know I have kids!” Reggie cried. “Don’t kill me!”
Noa’s hand tightened on the phaser pistol. How had James known he had kids? It wasn’t the time to ask.
James took a step closer, and Reggie scrunched his eyes shut and bowed his head. “If you heard that I had kids,” he sobbed, “you know I didn’t want to do this … and I can help you!”
“Do you have food?” said James.
Noa blinked. Across the Ark’s ether, she said, “James, we have food, why—”
“I don’t want to eat our bribes,” he said, eyes focused on Reggie.
“Behind the bar!” Reggie said desperately. “Behind the bar.”
James turned and vaulted over the bar and disappeared behind it in an easy movement.
Noa reached to James across the ether. “Are you alright?”
“I’m great, just hungry,” James said. “It’s cold in here!”
It wasn’t cold. It was only slightly cooler than the ambient temperature of the Ark. Before she could contemplate it more, light flickered around her eyes. Real light, not an ether illusion.
“You’re that commander from the Luddy ship!” Reggie said, and Noa realized her holographic necklace had just gone out.
“Shut up,” Noa said, pressing the phaser muzzle to Reggie’s head.
There was the sound of breaking glass, and then, “Eggs! Perfect!”
There was a thudding from the front door. In the mirror Noa could see James standing up fast, a carton of eggs clutched to his stomach.
An intercom crackled to life beside the door. “This is Adam’s Station patrol! Let us in!”
* * *
James was eating a small wheel of brie. He stood with Noa in a storage area fille
d with delicacies that made the Ark’s cafe’s goods look meager. There was Luddeccean cheese, wine, and nuts. In the distance, there was the squeal of a saw cutting through the hinges of the metal airlock of the bar. Soon the authorities would pour in. There were cameras in the bar, and if they managed to escape, they'd still be hunted down for questioning. He should be more concerned. But he was free! He wasn’t controlled by the time gates. Maybe they could see his thoughts like he could see the thoughts of other humans, but just as James could not control other humans, they could not control him. He wasn’t a puppet. He was himself ... whoever that now was. He patted the warm weight of Carl Sagan, tucked into his shirt. The gates had altered him ... disconnected him. He knew it like he knew the gravity of Adam's Station. Everything before the moment he woke up in the snow was a hazy sort of dream; even his parent's love was an abstraction. His passion for his career was gone, too. His memories of his professional life were a sign post he could refer back to, but they were like all the memories stored in his time capsule: distant, diffuse, without emotional weight. He felt a loss for his old drive, but right now that loss was overwhelmed by relief. He was free. He wasn't a 'bot caught up in a hopeless loop. He'd willed himself awake and he was here. Eating cheese. If he could laugh, he would have. Instead he just took another bite.
“How did you know this place would be here?” he asked Noa, licking salt and fat from his fingers. Freedom tasted fantastic.
From the room above came the sound of the door intercom crackling with, “We know you’re in there. Come out and we’ll go easy on you.”
“What do I say about this?” Reggie asked, trembling.
“Tell them that we held you at phaser point,” Noa said, tersely.
Reggie sniffed.
James dipped his chin. “You will give us five minutes once we leave. You won’t use the ether.”
Reggie bowed his head. James reached across the ether for Reggie’s channel. He didn’t answer. “It’s me, Reggie,” he said.
