by Gun Brooke
“I’m not pleased.” Podmer spoke between his teeth, and only now did Madisyn see that bluish veins pulsated at his temples. A sure sign of his volatile temper, as was the way he glared with squinting eyes.
“Our mission is accomplished.” Why would Podmer be upset?
“By you, yes. By her, no.” Podmer pointed.
She turned her head, completely taken aback at the sight of Weiss propped against the door frame.
“I miscalculated the resourcefulness of that damn captain over there. It happens.” Weiss shrugged.
“What the hell are you talking about? It happens?” Podmer got up, his face now bordering on purple. “I gave a direct order, and with your reputation for being ruthless, I didn’t think it’d pose a problem. One flip of a switch.”
“I did flip a switch. It never occurred to me that they’d escaped their confinement in time to countermand the command I entered.”
“When did you know?” Podmer growled, slowly sitting down.
“As soon as we were a few hundred meters from the Koenigin. No floating bodies in space.”
“No floating bodies? And you didn’t say anything?” Madisyn stared at Weiss, her eyes close to tearing up; only her grip of her internal sensors saved her.
“I’m as outraged as you are,” Podmer said, misunderstanding her emotional outburst. “Now I look like I’m running from that bitch.”
“You got what you came for.” Weiss sounded bored. “Don’t waste time with appearances. Who gives a damn what anyone thinks?”
Madisyn had to admire Weiss’s way of making Podmer shrink, of making him seem petty and even silly. Podmer went from looking purple and mad as hell to seeming flustered. Madisyn had to quickly find a way to not stare in amazement. She had never seen the domineering, even megalomaniac, captain of the Salaceos look chastised.
Another part of Madisyn was trying to figure out how Weiss had managed to save the Koenigin bridge crew.
“You’re dismissed,” Podmer muttered and grabbed the computer stick.
“Aye, sir.” Madisyn brushed by Weiss, knowing it probably looked like she ran out of the room, which wasn’t far from the truth. She needed time alone in their quarters to just breathe for a minute after being tossed between emotions so fast.
She didn’t even get ten seconds before Weiss joined her.
“Are you all right?” Weiss stood inside the door.
“I am.” Closing her eyes briefly, Madisyn put the scrambler on. “We can talk.” She preferred that they didn’t, but she thought Weiss would want to.
“I couldn’t tell you. I knew you hated me for what I did, for what you thought I’d done, and I couldn’t risk you not being able to keep it together.”
“Weiss. Don’t. Don’t say another word.”
“Why not?” Weiss looked nonplussed as she sat down on her bed and began to remove her vest. “I had to do what I did. I couldn’t tell you.”
“I realize that.” Madisyn pressed her palms against the nauseating feeling in her stomach. It didn’t help. Not being able to actually throw up sure was a downside to being nauseous.
“Madisyn. You look…ill.” Weiss put the vest aside and moved closer. “How’s that even possible?”
“I said ‘don’t talk.’ I meant it.” Trembling, Madisyn pressed her knuckles against her lips. “Please.”
“For stars and skies, what the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing.” To Madisyn’s dismay, tears welled up, and she cursed her parents for not foreseeing this, her one weakness, when they saved her life. A BNSL couldn’t cry, but placing someone with real emotions within a synthetic body made to mimic almost all body functions of a living person would cause emotions, which would produce the same physical manifestations. If she was lucky, one day she might even throw up. Madisyn’s gallows humor didn’t help. Her tears ran over and down her cheeks. She tried to stop them with her hands but they forced their way between her fingers.
“You’re…you’re crying!” Weiss’s consternation would have been hilarious if Madisyn’s emotional meltdown hadn’t caused it.
“Just—shut—up.” Madisyn was about to get up and run into the bathroom, but Weiss stopped her, pushing her back onto the bed. She sat down next to Madisyn.
“I’ve never heard of a BNSL that can cry real tears, not even one as advanced as you.” Weiss captured a tear with her fingertip.
Madisyn watched in horror as Weiss tasted the clear liquid. “Weiss—”
“It tastes like the real thing.”
“I—I can’t talk about this. You can’t tell anybody and we won’t discuss it.”
“We sure as hell will. You’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything!” Madisyn pushed Weiss, angry now. Her tears dried quickly. “You put me through hell over there. You made me think you could kill ten innocent people just to stay undercover, thus making me your accomplice. You made me think I was as guilty as you of murder.” Slamming her palm against Weiss’s shoulder, Madisyn was stunned when the other woman didn’t do anything to prevent the blow from landing or otherwise defend herself.
“I don’t blame you for being angry.” Weiss sighed and ran a hand over her face, as if brushing away something nasty. “I was pretty sure I had tied Rhoridan loosely enough for her to free herself and the others, but I couldn’t be sure. When Podmer issued his orders, I took a calculated risk. I could’ve killed them if Rhoridan had been less of a captain than I took her for.”
“Gods.” Madisyn still trembled.
Of course, Weiss noticed. “Tears. And now adrenaline?”
“Synthetic. All of it.” Madisyn spoke hurriedly.
“I don’t think so.” Weiss took Madisyn’s hand. “Your palms are damp. Perspiration? I don’t believe anyone, not even a scientist hell-bent on mimicking reality, would come up with synthetic perspiration.”
“Sure. For cooling the system. Absolutely.”
“Really.” Weiss was clearly not buying any of it. “It makes me wonder just how realistic your responses are to other things.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re quite temperamental in many ways, especially for a BNSL unit. I’ve wondered why I find you so damn attractive, since I’ve never found any android to my liking that way. I wonder how your subroutines would have you react if I kissed you.”
“Kiss—what are you talking about? You don’t want to kiss me.”
“Interesting response. It would’ve been more logical for a BNSL unit to answer in a more detached, matter-of-fact way. I can think of several more plausible responses. ‘I am not programmed for any such action.’ ‘I am unable to respond in such a manner.’ ‘Kissing is not within the range of my abilities.’”
“I—I…” Madisyn stopped, her voice barely carrying. She swallowed against an odd sense of dryness in her throat. “All right. We’ll talk. I just need to get out of this damn uniform first. I can’t stand to wear it anymore right now.”
“I second that.” Weiss looked relieved. Was it because Madisyn had given in or because they were both getting out of their coveralls? Or perhaps it was the temporary delay regarding what Madisyn might say.
*
Weiss stepped into the personal cleansing unit and felt the sound waves reverberate around her, removing all outward traces of their mission. Noticing how tight her fists were, she willed her hands to relax. Time and circumstance hadn’t allowed her to fill Madisyn in on what she meant to do. Being on the receiving end of Madisyn’s outrage and contempt had taken a greater toll on Weiss than she realized. When Madisyn strode by her exiting the shuttle, not even looking at her, Weiss’s stomach had twisted into painful knots and she had tried to catch up with Madisyn before she reached the bridge. Now Madisyn knew the truth, but she didn’t look as relieved as Weiss had hoped. Something else was wrong, and Weiss couldn’t figure out what. She had never been much for utilizing androids, and certainly had never expected an artificial life
form, sentient or not, to act the way Madisyn did.
The cleansing unit closed after running its cycle, and though she was clean, she wasn’t prepared to leave the bathroom yet. Procrastination wasn’t usually one of her vices, but facing Madisyn right now unnerved her, and something told her Madisyn felt the same way.
“Felt,” Weiss muttered. “How can she feel anything? Can her circuits or whatever construct feelings out of thin air?” She stared at her reflection. Her olive skin bore traces of scars. Too many, and more than she cared to remember. She pushed her hair, unruly after the shower, haphazardly behind her ears as she followed her trail of thoughts. Feelings were really just chemical with any humanoid, weren’t they? So if a BSNL had circuits or, as in Madisyn’s case, artificially grown cells, programmed on a molecular level to perform the same way—surely the outcome would be the same? Matter just as much?
“Oh!” Weiss slammed her palms into the sink. “Hell.”
“You all right?” Madisyn softly called out through the door.
“Yeah. Fine. I’m…fine.” Weiss had turned to open it when she suddenly remembered being stark naked. Not usually shy or prudish, she muttered a curse and grabbed new underwear from the recycling unit. She programmed her size and extracted a set of comfortable retrospun coveralls. Opening the door, she glanced quickly at Madisyn before she walked over to the food recycler. “I thought I’d be brave and have some artificial Vit-C drink. You want any?”
“Already had some.” Madisyn motioned toward an empty cup sitting on a shelf above her bed.
Weiss watched with fake fascination how the recycler poured an opaquely yellow beverage into her mug. Tasting it hesitantly, she grimaced at the vague taste. “I can almost taste the fake oranges.”
“I could definitely taste the added chemicals that mimic the taste of oranges.” Madisyn wrinkled her nose, then winked.
Weiss forgot about her artificial vitamin drink. A BNSL that wrinkled her nose—and winked?
“Weiss?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Chemicals. For sure.” Weiss cringed and climbed onto her cot.
“I know I’m repeating myself, but are you all right? I mean, really?”
“Sure. Absolutely.” Feeling ridiculous for speaking in a staccato manner, Weiss tried for a smile.
“Oh, for stars and skies, this is ridiculous.” Madisyn looked at the viewport, as if searching for support from the surrounding space. “We both know we need to talk and we’ve digressed and procrastinated long enough.”
“Why don’t you start?” Weiss realized she was taking the coward’s way out, but she was simply out of words.
“I took this particular assignment because I hate pirates, and piracy, more than anything.” Madisyn’s face was expressionless, but her eyes seemed impossibly black. “They base their existence on murder, theft, and destruction—all because of greed. There’s no such thing as ‘the noble savage.’” Pulling up her knees, Madisyn curled against her pillows. “And now I can see how your mind is whirling. You’re wondering how a damned android can hate anything or anyone.”
“You’re sentient. Of course you can hate.”
“Ha. You know that most people still think sentient androids are little more than glorified robots.”
“I’m not most people.”
“For sure. You’re so credible in your role as Weiss Kyakh, pirate, even I find myself buying into it.”
Weiss recoiled at the vehemence behind Madisyn’s words. “Go on.”
“This is where things get a little weird. I mean, this is where I need to ask you for complete confidentiality.”
“I don’t gossip,” Weiss said tightly.
“No, you don’t understand.” Madisyn crawled over onto Weiss’s bed, placing both hands on her shoulders. “You can’t tell anyone. Not even Jacelon. Nobody.”
“Oh.” Mystified, Weiss felt the warmth of Madisyn’s hands against her, through the fabric of her coveralls. Dreading what she might hear, she spoke quickly. “I promise.”
“You’re sure? There could be a conflict of interest involved.”
“I still promise.” Against her principles, Weiss vowed not to betray Madisyn’s confidence, though she usually tried to avoid pledging her word.
“The real Madisyn Pimm was aboard a transport shuttle when pirates attacked it. She was twenty and traveling toward the Guild Nation home world from Earth when four ships appeared out of nowhere. The pirates killed the captain and the rest of the crew, and all the other passengers. They left Madisyn for dead. When the border patrol ship found them, they rushed her to the Guild Nation. There, her parents had to face the fact that Madisyn’s body was too damaged to save. She was dying.”
Her chest constricting, Weiss couldn’t speak. She leaned back against the bulkhead and easily imagined the horrific scenes that had played out in the shuttle all those years ago.
“However, Madisyn’s parents simply couldn’t accept losing her.”
“So they made you in her image. I’ve read that in your file. Jacelon let me see it.” Weiss raised her hand in an apologetic gesture. “I needed to know who my associate undercover was.”
“You still don’t know,” Madisyn said quietly. “Madisyn didn’t die. Her body did and was buried, but her mind, her soul and personality, didn’t.”
“I can understand that you relate to her—”
“Weiss. I’m Madisyn. I’m her. I survived after my parents placed my brain, m-my spinal cord, into their experimental model. Model Twenty-Two Alpha.” Madisyn smiled joylessly. “They had worked on a new model, Eighteen-B, and made her look like me in my honor. How ironic. However, Eighteen-B was not advanced enough to host a humanoid central nervous system. Their secret prototype, another Madisyn look-alike, was.”
“You’re not serious.” Weiss couldn’t believe it. “All of your system registers as fully synthetic.”
“Yes. My parents devised ways for me to mask my human brain and central nervous system against scans.” Madisyn grasped Weiss’s hands in hers. “They broke the law by doing that.”
“I bet they did. The Guild Nation has some of the strictest laws when it comes to their scientific community.” Weiss let her eyes roam across the perfect face of the woman in front of her. Could she be telling the truth?
“I can prove it.” Madisyn spoke dispassionately. “Here. Scan me.” She handed a small medical scanner to Weiss.
Her fingers not entirely steady, Weiss did as Madisyn asked. At first, the only readings were those of a bio-neural synthetic android. Artificially grown tissues were sometimes hard to distinguish from human with the naked eye, but a scanner easily found the markers. Then the scanner beeped and Weiss read evidence of human tissue. Nerve endings, neural pathways, gray and white matter, and synaptic energy. Granted, the spinal fluid was artificial, but Madisyn’s brain, cerebellum, prolonged marrow, and spinal column were humanoid. “Oh, hell.”
“Yes.” Madisyn was shivering now.
“You have a humanoid brain.” Weiss knew she was repeating herself. “A wholly humanoid brain…but how can you prove that it’s the real Madisyn’s brain?”
“Good question. I can’t. I mean, back on the Guild Nation home world I could easily do it with a genetic scan, but here, on this godforsaken ship, I can’t. I have no reason to lie. I am who I say I am.” Tears formed at the corners of Madisyn’s eyes. “See? A crying robot. What a joke, huh?”
“Madisyn.” Weiss couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to wake up and find herself turned into an android. A freak show in the making. “Many people I know have artificial spare parts. I do too.”
“An arm. A leg. Intestines that need replacing. Hearts, lungs, glands. Sure. But I bet you don’t know anyone with more than twenty percent spare parts.” Madisyn spat the last words.
“Touché.” Weiss shook her head. “What did you…how did you react when you came to?”
“I begged them over and over and over to kill me.” Madisyn laughed bitterly. “I begged them t
o turn me off, to end it. They refused.”
“Gods, no wonder you loathe pirates.” Weiss felt herself go pale.
“Oh, no, that’s not why.” Madisyn’s soft voice betrayed such a profound hatred that it shook Weiss to the core.
“No?”
“No. Once my parents convinced me that life was worth preserving, even if I had to lead a clandestine existence as a sentient android, I concluded that they were right. Life is worth preserving.”
“At any cost?” Weiss wasn’t sure.
“In retrospect. Yes.” Madisyn shrugged, a simple, jerky twitch of her shoulders. “I lived with my parents, learned from them, and we worked at the university.”
“What happened? Why this hatred for pirates if it wasn’t for what they did to you?”
“I lost the only ones in my life who knew who I really was.” Madisyn looked at Weiss with emotionless eyes. “Five years ago pirates jettisoned my parents, and everyone else aboard their shuttle, into space.”
Chapter Eleven
Ayahliss barely kept from rushing out of Reena’s quarters. Perhaps unaware of what she was doing, Reena regarded her with professional, inquisitive eyes, something that made Ayahliss cringe. It was like being on the defender’s bench. Reena was obviously worried about her, but Ayahliss didn’t know, or understand, why.
“Please, Ayahliss?” Reena’s gaze shifted from being judging to soft and genuinely concerned.
“Judge Beqq,” Ayahliss began, trying to put a little distance between them by using Reena’s title.
