He felt his first wave of apprehension about their plan.
He’d not had that feeling since his first battle. He’d defeated anxiety. Or thought he had.
Trev turned. Khim glanced away.
“Nervous?” Trev asked.
The audacity of him, Khim thought fondly. “No,” he lied.
They had discussed timing. Strategy. Trying to foresee every circumstance, every possible hitch at all times of day. Should they attempt their crazy plan at night or during the busiest, most distracting part of the afternoon?
They went over every aspect they could think of. So much depended on technology and their shared ability to think creatively in stressful situations.
As he did every day, Khim followed Trev into the showers. The remote was back in Trev’s bar of soap in their cell. There were spigots with old brown coarse stuff in each stall, but Khim hated it. It smelled of the low tide on Beta Niobe Four.
He figured Trev hated it too.
Khim soaped up, then handed Trev his personal soap bar around the edge of the stall. A hand darted out of warm spray to take it.
“Thanks.”
Suddenly the sentry at the corner piped up. “What are you doing?” It skittered over to their stalls, red eyes staring in at Khim.
Over the splash of water, Khim could hear Trev breathing. He said, “I handed him a bar of soap.”
He could not see Trev, but he heard him say, “Here. You want it?” Then Trev’s hand moved forward, past the wall of the stall, and held the soap out to the robot.
“You have dispensers in the stalls. You do not need to share,” the sentry said.
“It’s brown soap in the dispenser,” he heard Trev say. “I’m allergic.”
“Hold up your wrist,” said the sentry. Khim saw its arm use a wand to scan Trev’s identchip. The sentry said, “This allergy fact is not in your record.”
Trev said, “For humans, allergies come and go. I reacted to it several times as a child. I steer clear of it now.”
“The rule is to keep to yourselves.” The sentry moved back to its corner, the lights of its eyes like those of an animal’s gaze caught in a bright light.
Khim had been holding his breath. He quickly shampooed his hair, then rinsed and moved to his bench to dress.
Trev emerged in a towel and their eyes met. Trev, soaked, hair hanging over his eyebrows, looked a little scared. And thoroughly beautiful.
Khim glanced away, putting on his shoes. He sat staring at the floor until Trev came up alongside him.
“Let’s go,” said Trev.
Khim got up and gathered his old clothes, towel, and shampoo, and followed him out of the steamy room.
All night Khim had tossed and turned, not apprehensive but looking forward to today. Now, as they passed the sentry, who swiveled its head to watch them go as if it suddenly had it in for them, he just wanted the day to be over.
Trev turned to him once they were out. “That fucking sentry. Fuck!”
Khim felt exactly the same.
Jay met them for breakfast. All as usual. They had brought him in on part of the plan. Khim had not wanted to do it, but Trev trusted the little man, and Khim trusted Trev.
They had not told Jay much. That way, Jay would be speaking the truth if he were questioned about them missing. They merely told him they needed a distraction at two o’clock that afternoon, as far away from Gate 8 as possible.
Jay said, as they ate, “I got something in mind. No worries.”
And that was all he said. The guy had turned out not to be as squirrelly as Khim thought.
Breakfast was pleasant without Deb’s crew there. Kant and his men sat with them at their table. Khim ignored the small talk and left to go to the weight room after he was finished eating. They had to make all their routines look normal.
Trev stayed at his side. Khim still kept finding himself waiting for Trev to lead, to move a step forward so Khim could come in a half-step behind. The damned conditioning would not let up on some things. Only when he concentrated could he make himself walk side by side with Trev as if he was not on an invisible leash. It didn’t annoy him, but it did confound him.
Too many things were different for him now, and his life had changed so fast. He looked up and saw the high plaza ceiling, white against the surrounding backdrop of five levels of cells under green-lit lines, left to right, metal grid balconies jutting outward. The ceiling curved, the structure of eight arches meeting in the center like being under a gigantic dome.
Khim had lived in enclosed spaces his whole life. This one was the biggest—but no matter how big, a cage was still a cage.
Trev gave him a nervous look, showing white teeth.
Another wave of apprehension hit Khim, roiling through his chest and stomach.
In the gym he stripped off his shirt and worked the weights hard. He watched Trev do the same. Jay came by, but left early.
Khim had been on the cycle for half an hour. He got off and wiped his face with his shirt.
Trev came up beside him. His body glowed. He was breathless. His lashes were damp from the sweat running down his forehead. He combed his perspiration-slick hair back with his fingers, then looked up at Khim, brown eyes big in his face, narrowing their focus on Khim alone.
This is the man I am following. A Damico. Stature: small. Personality: big. In fact, bigger than the biggest android I have ever served with. This is the man with whom I’ve made a deal and who saved me, who looks as if he has come shining right out of a dream.
Trev stood still beside him, biceps pumped, veins running down to his wrists with faint green-tinged trails. Vibrant. Like nothing Khim had ever known.
He’d never been treated with care before, never had anyone even want to be his friend. Other androids made frail friendships or fucked in the night from pent-up aggression and boredom, but Khim had had none of that. Hadn’t ever desired it.
But he looked at Trev, and some part of him woke and yearned.
Beside him, Trev said, “How are you doing?”
As if he did not know how nervous Khim was. As if he cared. “Fine.”
Trev nodded. “I don’t know how you can be so calm. I envy that ability.”
Surprised, Khim raised his eyebrows. He thought every bit of tension in him had to be broadcasting all over the room.
“I feel jumpy as hell,” Trev said.
“I am desperate for this day to end,” Khim said. Despite his penchant for the fight, for the thrill, he did not like this waiting game at all.
“Me too.” Trev reached out and brushed Khim’s forearm with the tips of his fingers, a brief, soft slide.
Khim did not like to be touched. But where those fingertips had lightly caressed, a warmth began. It suffused his skin.
He did not have words to describe the sensation.
AFTER LUNCH, Trev dug the remote from the soap. Khim grabbed the triangle-shaped deck of cards and stuffed them in his waistband. There was nothing else in their cell worth taking.
Together they took the stairwell steps two at a time and entered the plaza. They did not see Jay.
Gate 8. That was their destination. Through that round aperture were offices and guards, but also docks and fliers and their only way out.
Without the remote working properly, they did not have a chance. But with the sentries down, and with Khim’s fighting skills against human guards and Trev’s knowledge of security systems, they did have a chance. A chance was all they asked for.
As they stood by the stairwell near Gate 8, Trev said, “One last time, Khim. Are you sure? Your life hangs more in the balance than mine.”
Something in Khim’s chest tightened at Trev’s concern. “My life has always hung in the balance. Today is no different, except that I make the choice. For once, I act on my own.”
Trev nodded. “Good.”
Trev had the remote in his hand. He tilted it upward toward the middle of the ceiling, where they had calculated the signal would hit and bounce
off in all directions. The sentries in the laundry, weight rooms, and media rooms would catch the virus in a delayed reaction, but they would all go down.
“Done,” Trev said, eyes wide.
Khim watched the sentry closest to them as it jerked once, then froze. It emitted a loud pip. Then it began to sing, its alien tone blending with the sounds of all the other sentries’ voices echoing together in the plaza and on the decks, a lilting chorus rising up as if the prison had become a church, the sentries the choir.
Khim was fast, grabbing the sentry’s wand from its flank, fiddling with it for a few seconds, and then pointing it at Gate 8.
The angels sing
The demons croon
with songs they have learned
from the fifth ring of Hell
The gate opened and more sentries inside the corridor began to sing.
The river runs
Styx to sand
the ferryman bows
to the evening Knight
The musical Trev had found in the holovid section had been critically panned; it had played on two planets for all of two nights. Trev had downloaded every song of every act into the sentries’ AI minds to play on an endless loop, certain words of the songs interfering constantly with their normal programming.
Trev and Khim leaped through the opening gate and encountered human guards immediately.
One said, “Hey, there’s nothing on the schedule for—”
Before he could finish, Khim had him on the ground along with the second guard, passed out but still breathing. He pointed the wand at the door to close it.
The hall before them was empty. But it wouldn’t be for long.
The sentries in the corridor sang. The star field to their right seemed blacker than usual.
Khim and Trev searched the guards’ bodies and took everything of value. Guns. Wands. Radios.
Trev said, “We should take their clothes.”
Khim was about to agree, but there was no time. Guards came running around the edge of the corridor that led to the hall of offices. Though their weapons were drawn, Khim ran straight toward them. He took down three of them with efficient neck chops—nonlethal blows—before they could get off a shot.
Alarms began to blare through the prison. First in the plaza, a dim siren. Then in the corridor where they were, a clanging that was startlingly loud.
A toneless voice announced, “Lockdown. Lockdown. All inmates remain where you are. You will be escorted to your cells. Lockdown. Lockdown.”
In the hall, another voice spoke over invisible speakers. “All civilians, stay in your offices until the alarm stops. All civilians, stay in your offices until the alarm stops.”
Trev was beside him, quick and quiet on his feet. “That means the workers can trip a sensor. We might too. Come on.” As they rounded the corridor into the hall, they saw the line of office doors. They did not have time to be picky, ducking into the first office. Luck was with them; it was empty.
Trev went straight to the computer. “I’ll hack in. See what I can do. I’ve done this a million times.”
Khim stood at his side, amazed at how Trev’s hands worked over the screen, touching as if everywhere at once, a dance of hands over lights on a display.
“Hold up your wrist,” Trev said.
Khim did as instructed.
Trev pressed a few lights on the screen, then ran the wand over Khim’s wrist and his own. “I’ve turned off the tracking devices in our chips.”
After another few moments, Trev announced, “We have to get wet.”
“What?”
Trev did not look up. “Is there a bathroom in here?”
Khim looked over to the corner—a door. He ran to it. “A toilet and a sink,” he called over his shoulder.
“Turn on the water in the sink. Let it fill. We need to be soaked.”
Khim did as he was told but said, “I don’t understand.”
Trev appeared at the door. “That’s so weird. I was just inside a system like this two days before I was arrested. What are the odds?”
The sink was filling. Trev began to scoop out waves of cold water, dousing himself. Khim began to do the same.
The water poured, a steady stream, and Khim watched Trev bend down and put his whole head under the spray.
“Help me,” Trev said.
Khim began to scoop water over the back of Trev’s head, neck, and back.
When Trev looked as if he’d just stepped fully clothed from a shower, he straightened. “Your turn.”
Khim bent and let himself be splashed all over. Trev scooped handful after handful of water over him until satisfied, then spoke softly. “There are lasers in the floor. They come on if they sense intruders, but they don’t sense water. This will give us about three to five minutes. When we start to dry is when we’ll run into problems. Oh, I almost forgot. We have to take off our shoes now and walk in our wet socks.”
After removing and soaking their socks, they put them back on and headed to the office door.
“Will my hand be a problem?”
“Hmm. I forgot about that.” Trev went back into the bathroom and came out with a saturated towel. “We’ll wrap this around your hand. You can still have mobility.”
Khim held out his metal hand.
Trev wound the towel gently around it, bringing up two opposite ends and tying it off. “I unlocked the docking-bay doors. I didn’t have time to choose, so I did all of them. We can work the airlocks with the sentry wands.”
“You did all that in this short amount of time?”
“I told you I’m good.”
“But this is a max prison.”
“It makes no difference to me what they call it. There’re always breaches to any security system. You just have to make sure you find the keys. And believe me, there are many. Okay. Let’s go. If you need to communicate, whisper. A voice can set off the lasers. When we get out there, we need to find the door to the stairs that lead to the docks.”
“Copy.”
Trev said, “Like a true soldier.”
They moved, silent and dripping, into the hall, going deeper and farther toward the tip of the space prison’s arm.
True to Trev’s calculations, the lasers saw them as mist and did not come on as they made their way down the hall.
They heard the sentries, far off, still singing. The music was horrible, grating.
Khim wanted to laugh, yell, howl, cry. He’d never had so many emotions at any one time. He was trained for battle, but this was unlike any battle he’d ever fought. And he’d never fought on his own. He had to focus on Trev to stay in control. Use Trev’s voice as a point of command.
Trev motioned him forward. The door he faced was different from the rest. It was locked, of course.
Khim waved his wand in front of it. Nothing happened.
Trev dug around his waistband for the things they’d gathered from the fallen human guards. He produced a small metal tube and stuck it into a hole in the wall. The door slid open. Before them a flight of stairs went winding down.
The stairwell was bathed in red flashing light. Khim waited for Trev’s signal before barging in. He smelled ozone and didn’t like the prospect of what that might mean.
Thankfully, Trev led. And yet Khim was afraid for him. He wanted to wrap him in his damp arms and hold him back. But with his conditioning, he did his best by following.
The stairs curved. They went slowly on wet, stockinged feet, chorused by the distant voices of hundreds of sentries all over the complex. Khim could make out only a few words here and there—
Herald, herald… creature of broken flesh… pain and chains… spirit flaming….
Someday, it would all be unbearably funny.
They came to a landing but still could not see the dock. Trev moved toward the railing.
It happened so fast that for a second Khim could not comprehend that Trev was just—gone.
He heard the echo of the laser bolt, then saw the bla
ck mark on the railing where it had hit.
Khim pulled one of the guard’s guns and ran to the railing, spreading fire before he could even see who had shot at them. He saw the long deck of the docks, the bays like black windows before them, guards running—some forward, some back, some prone on the ground.
“Trev!” His voice came out in a strangled croak.
“Here.”
He leaned over the railing and saw Trev dangling from a jutting edge of metal just beneath the banister. He hung by one hand, legs kicking the air, trying to find purchase. “If I could just get my hand up, I could pull myself up,” he said, breathless.
Khim lay in another barrage of fire, then, without even thinking about it, tore the towel off his metal hand and reached over the edge, stomach catching on the rail. He clasped Trev’s forearm and pulled. It took all his strength, back and shoulder and belly muscles all tensing, straining, locking. Luckily, Trev was slender, light. Khim hauled him up one-handed, lifting him over the rail and depositing him on the floor before him. He wrapped his other arm around Trev’s waist and pulled him back against the far wall in case more guards decided to shoot at them.
Trev looked at him incredulously. “How’d you do that?”
Khim looked him up and down. “What? You weigh maybe thirty pounds soaking wet.”
Trev muttered, “One-five-nine.” Then he let out a shaky breath. “The bolt hit the rail, but the concussion wave hit me and flipped me over. Luckily I’m used to flipping myself over tall railings.”
“Luckily,” Khim echoed. But they had no time for more discussion. “Okay, then, I’ll take the rest of them out.” He could not bring himself to say “stay behind me” because it felt all wrong.
“I can help. I know how to use a laser gun on stun.”
Khim sighed in relief. Khim took out two more guards from the railing, then motioned to Trev that all was clear.
Trev led the way to the final set of stairs, firing as he went. Red beams flickered all around them. The alarm siren whined. The sentries sang.
At the bottom of the stairs, they stepped carefully over two unconscious guards in blue uniforms. There were more guards standing at the far end.
The Android and the Thief Page 18
