Shattered Lamps (Osprey Chronicles Book 2)

by Ramy Vance

  “Experiments, in other words.”

  “Experiments that worked out well enough, right? For you, at least. Endurance, physical resilience, resistance to illness and disease, physical strength, and enhanced eyesight in a nice little pint-sized package. Downright sneaky. People might not even notice you’re enhanced, at first.”

  He shrugged. “Me? Well. I got a lot of horsepower crammed in here, but apparently, it’s too much for some people to handle.” He rubbed the back of his neck idly, touching the neural implant off-switch wrapped around his spinal cord that would activate and paralyze him if he came too close to eating things he shouldn’t. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a whole mass grave of failed vampire candidates somewhere, from back before the Tribes figured out how to control us.”

  Jaeger shuddered, horrified by both his implication and the utterly casual way Toner must have evaluated the nature and rationale for his unique existence. Then something occurred to her. “I don’t have enhanced eyesight,” she said.

  Toner peered down. “Come on. That’s not a natural eye color.”

  “It is my natural color,” she said, startled. Even when she looked in a mirror, which was rare, she rarely gave a second thought to her golden irises.

  “Sure.” Toner rolled his eyes. “Keep your secrets.”

  She didn’t know why that bothered her, but it did. She elbowed him roughly. “It is. It runs in the family. My daughter has light eyes, too.”

  Toner said nothing, watching as the crew dug through the mountain of sliders. On the other side of the lounge, Occy was fiddling with the audio system interface. Eighties techno-pop dance music blared through the speakers.

  “You have a daughter.” Toner wasn’t looking at her.

  Jaeger jumped, blushed. “Yeah.”

  “You remember?”

  Her blush deepened. She pushed herself away from the wall, silently vowing to let Toner in on the special lessons that were unlocking her lost memories as soon as she had time. “It’s a long story,” she said. “I’ll explain as soon as the mission is over. Right now, the troops need their pep talk.”

  “I know a little about the training and experiences imprinted into your brains during the growing process.” Jaeger licked her lips. The crew stared at her, holding half-empty plates piled with chicken bones and pizza crusts. Their inscrutable gazes, both inhuman and utterly alien, weighed like anvils on her, more nerve-wracking and intimate than the still, silent gaze of the forest of Overseers.

  She didn’t want to give this speech either, but she had to do it. It was the captain’s duty. It was her duty. “I know you have scripted, half-formed childhoods defined by rigid schedules and brutal training routines.”

  She lifted her voice. “Where every scarce moment of joy and human emotion is something that’s stamped into your brain. Although none of it is real, it’s the only reality you know.” She drew in a deep, wavering breath. She saw Toner staring at her from where he slumped against the far wall, his gaze inscrutable.

  “I wish to God it wasn’t,” she said. “I wish to God you all had families I could send you home to, right now. I wish I had time right now to have a conversation with every one of you as individuals. I wish I could get to know you all, while you get to know yourselves. I wish we could all get to know each other.”

  They murmured faintly, shifting their weight, sharing uncertain glances. They understood the words, certainly, but these sorts of ideas must have been very strange to their carbon-copy soldier brains.

  “This is the life we have,” she conceded, her voice falling. “These are our tools, and our clock is ticking. I can’t give you the childhoods your creators denied. I can’t give you the lives you should have had.”

  She swallowed, and though her voice filled her throat like a lump of lead, she lifted it high. “All I can give you is my promise,” she called. “Work with me, and together, we can make a better future. Follow me, and I will devote my life to finding us a home where we can build the lives denied to us.

  “We don’t have to follow the path laid out before us. We don’t have to be the simple, brutal tools they made us to be. We can be humans, real and complex and full of joys and sorrows and pleasures and pains. This road isn’t going to be easy. But it will be easier if we can walk it together!”

  There was no cheer, no applause, not even a murmuring approval. They stared at her. She looked into their faces and saw confusion, perhaps mild curiosity. She looked into their faces and saw drones, programmed from before birth to follow orders and never wonder why.

  She looked into their faces and despaired.

  She snatched a glass from the table and thrust it into the air, sloshing neon pink lemonade down her face. “You deserve a better sendoff than this!” she cried. There it was. The stirring of emotion, the light coming to their faces. Interest, drawn out by a primal scream. Anger, rage, desire—these things, they understood.

  “Eat,” she called. “Drink, and be happy! You deserve a feast and a revel the night before battle!”

  General murmurs of interest swelled into an excited clamor. They straightened and lifted their chins, roused by nothing but pure, blind lust.

  “When you return victorious from battle,” she screamed to growing howls of approval, “We’re going to have the biggest fucking party you’ve ever seen!”

  She smashed the glass between her feet, creating a spray of shards and sweet pink liquid.

  They roared their approval. Now permitted to be the things they had been programmed to be, the dam broke. The music surged back to full volume, thumping to the bone as they collapsed into a roiling mass of eating, drinking, dancing, and jumping with anticipation for the coming dawn and baptism by fire.

  Welcome to your new world, Jaeger thought, wiping the sugary liquid from her hands as they devolved into a bloodthirsty pep rally. Alone and without a backward glance, she stalked out of the crew quarters.

  It’s just like the old one.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “The party’s not the same without you.”

  Jaeger lifted her head and blinked bleary, watering eyes. She was lying against Baby’s warm bulk on the floor of the observation deck, watching the stars spin around her. The background music—Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, original soundtrack—had faded to silence long ago.

  Toner stood in the access tunnel, a dark silhouette outlined by the light of the command center.

  “Without me?” She smiled without humor, though in the darkness, she doubted he could see it. Or maybe he could. His sight, unlike hers, was remarkable. She lifted the half-empty bottle of off-brand Jim Beam from the nest of her folded legs and waggled it invitingly. “Or without this?”

  Toner regarded her in silence for a long moment before stepping into the observation deck and allowing the door to slide shut behind him. The distant thump of music faded to silence.

  Baby stirred as Toner approached, lifting her head and snuffling in his direction. Her petri dish was nestled fondly between her front legs.

  “Hey, fartface.” Forgetting to insert the standard acid into his tone, Toner patted the rough patch of skin above Baby’s face-hole. Baby, honoring the moment, or perhaps merely tired, didn’t growl at him as was her habit.

  Toner sank beside Jaeger, folding his legs beneath him. Without a word, he held out a hand.

  Jaeger gave him the bottle. He sniffed it, made a face, then took an obligatory swig. “You’re a cheap date.”

  She grunted.

  “And you’re getting drunk six hours before going on a dangerous mission,” he added.

  “I know.” She told herself she wasn’t slurring, but that was a lie. “I’m a hypocrite. Reprimand me. I deserve it.”

  “Reprimand you? I’m jealous.” He cocked his head. She thought she saw the faint pinprick of his cold blue eyes reflecting starlight, or maybe it was her imagination. “Being the irresponsible asshole is supposed to be my privilege.”

  She twitched, trying t
o laugh. “Christ,” she whispered. “They’re all robots. Robots and children and monsters. They’re all robot monster children. I built them to go into war and die and they…they don’t know any better. I try to offer them something better, and they don’t want it.”

  Toner studied her in silence.

  Jaeger took the bottle from him. She tipped it in another long drag. Her sinuses were on fire. Her eyes watered. The cheap, synthesized liquor went down like paint thinner, and she didn’t care. She wanted to drown in it. She wanted to die.

  When finally she could swallow no more, she withdrew the bottle from her lips and gasped for air. Tears burned down her cheeks.

  Toner took the bottle from her numb fingers and with those long, long arms of his, set it out of her reach.

  “It’s fine,” he said brusquely. “The med bay computers have a couple of recipes for soothing over a nasty hangover. Some of them even halfway work. You’ll be ready to go when it’s time.”

  Jaeger sank forward, resting her face in her palms.

  “I talk about a future and joy and life, and they don’t care. I’m speaking a foreign language. But I pump my fist in the air and go rah, rah, rah, blood and thunder and guts, and they go nuts. Fuck. We’re exactly what I swore we wouldn’t become. We are the monsters.”

  “Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” Toner gathered up her hands, holding her upright as she collapsed into a little puddle of despair. He gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “Fuck, Jaeger, you can’t blame them for all that. I was going to come out here and bust your balls for that little speech.”

  She swallowed a lump of mucous and sniffed. “What?”

  “It was a terrible speech. Your delivery was awful. I could barely hear you, and I wasn’t exactly in the back row.”

  Jaeger stared at him. Then she started to laugh. It sounded a little hysterical.

  Emboldened, Toner went on. “It was too repetitive and abstract. Remember, you’re talking to a bunch of jugheads, not petitioning the UN. Rhetoric, philosophy, ethics, none of that stuff is programmed into them. They don’t know what to do with it, but they can learn. Occy did. You have to tone down the highfalutin’ language and give them a bit of time to catch on to all your grand dreams. They’re not monsters, Jaeger. They’re just kind of dumb.”

  Jaeger’s head fell back against Baby’s flank, her chest opening in gales of hysterical, exhausted laughter. Baby lifted her head again, sniffing worriedly at Jaeger’s hair.

  “I think it’s time we acknowledge that speaking in front of crowds isn’t your strong suit,” Toner concluded. “Certainly not with your stage presence. Let me handle the speeches from now on.”

  “Oh God, no.” Her chest hurt. “I might get us thrown out of the solar system, but you’ll get us all killed.”

  Toner flashed a too-white, too-toothy smile. “You write the speeches. I’ll give them. I’ll mostly stick to your scripts, I promise.”

  Feeling almost good enough to banter, Jaeger opened her mouth to say something clever about the value of his promises when the door to the observation deck slid open again.

  A long, inhuman shadow fell over them.

  “Hey.” Jaeger turned, offering Occy a half-drunk, sloppy smile. It died on her lips as her eyes adjusted to the light and she saw the expression on the little boy’s face.

  Beside her, Toner stiffened. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

  Wordless, Occy shook his head. He stepped into the observation deck, dragging his tentacles behind him. The door slid shut, and he collapsed forward, throwing himself onto Baby’s broad flank. As one, Jaeger and Toner stumbled to their feet.

  “Honey?” Jaeger slipped her hands around Occy’s bony human shoulder, voice trembling. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  She barely noticed as the boy’s tentacles crept up to curl around her waist, pulling her and Toner and Baby into a clinging, desperate group hug. The boy’s bright smile and tough attitude had collapsed. He shook his head and began to cry. “I don’t want you to go.”

  Over Occy’s head and pulled close by the same hug, Toner met Jaeger’s eyes. Baby shifted her weight beneath them, grumbling a noise that could have been anxiety or reassurance.

  “It’s dangerous out there. You might not come back,” Occy whispered while still trembling. “You might go and leave me all alone.”

  Jaeger held the boy close, stroking his fair hair. She said nothing. She didn’t feel worthy, to make another promise to another child.

  That was all right, though. Occy didn’t seem to need words. He needed people to hold him as he leaned against Baby’s flank and cried himself out.

  “He’s hatched from the same eggs as the rest of them,” Toner whispered, once Occy’s sobs had faded into a soft, hitching half-snore. “They’re babies. Raise them right, and they’ll grow into real people, too.”

  Jaeger nodded. Her head was full of lead and fluff, but at least the anguish had died down with Occy’s terrified weeping—and left just enough room inside her to focus on the task at hand. “Take me down to the med bay,” she said dully. “Let’s try out some of your hangover cures.”

  Occy stirred again when they started to pull away. “No,” he mumbled. “No. Don’t go.”

  “Easy, kiddo,” Toner muttered as he and Jaeger knelt to lay the boy down beside Baby. “And sleep. That sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye.”

  Like a reflex, Occy opened his mouth and mumbled the second half of the line: “And steal me a while from mine own company.”

  Careful not to tread on Occy’s scattered tentacles, they stepped off the observation deck, leaving the exhausted boy to sleep against Baby’s warm flank.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jaeger stared at the three-dimensional radar map of the asteroid belt swirling on the Alpha-Seeker’s main console. Quickly, she overlaid the radar map Virgil had compiled from previous mission data. The two maps had nothing in common.

  “Shit,” she whispered.

  The Creepers had been busy. Their mining and demolition operations had utterly reorganized the composition and orbital pattern of this section of the asteroid belt. She had counted on being able to navigate her way through the densest fields with the help of the old data, but where there should have been a mountain, there was a cloud of dangerously small and fast-moving boulders. Where there should have been relatively open stretches of space, massive monoliths swirled and danced.

  Toner’s voice came on the open coms channel. “Beta and Gamma teams in position on your six,” he said. “Osprey waiting in the wings. We’re ready when you are. Lead the way, O Capitan.”

  Jaeger struggled to keep calm. She’d been on half a dozen asteroid belt missions in the Alpha-Seeker. It was a small, maneuverable ship, responsive to her neural impulses. She could have picked her way through the endless swirling minefield easily enough—but this was a mission of a different caliber. She was supposed to be blazing a path through the field for the comparatively lumbering and sluggish shuttles to follow, all while remaining in the shadows of larger asteroids, to make their approach harder to detect.

  “You all right?” Seeker asked her on a private channel.

  “Yep,” Jaeger said. “Just psyching myself up.”

  She was mostly okay, thanks in large part to Toner’s secret hangover cures. Still, she was glad there was no active visual coms channel. She didn’t want her crew to see her face at this moment. She was pretty sure she’d gone green.

  Well. Sitting here frozen never did anybody any good.

  One step at a time.

  Ensuring that her cerebral diode was properly attached, she activated the maneuvering thrusters and flew into the leading edge of the asteroid belt. “Frogger,” she murmured.

  There was a pause at the other end of the open line.

  “Uh, yes, Captain?” said a deep voice. It was one of the new crew members on Toner’s team—the squat fellow with the wide face and bulging eyes.

  Jaeger let out a little laugh. “Not you, Bufo. Sorry. I mean that
it’s a little like playing that old video game, Frogger.”

  “Oh yeah,” Toner said, cheerful as he always was when someone reminded him of something from his past life. “Where you’ve got to get your froggy across a busy highway without it getting splattered.”

  “Yep,” Jaeger said, breathless as she swung her fighter into a tight arc to avoid the oncoming bulk of a small and unreasonably fast-moving mountain. “Except the cars are flying at you from every direction. Be careful out here.”

  “Roger that,” said a sharp feminine voice. They had given control of the second shuttle to Portia, the slender, multi-jointed woman, whose piloting training had been second to none. “Gamma team, entering the belt now. We’re on your tail, Captain.”

  “Beta taking up the rear,” Toner agreed. “Single file. Keep the channel silent except for emergencies and scheduled check-ins. Keep your speeds below the critical detection thresholds and try to keep sudden direction changes to a minimum. We don’t want to look like anything except just a few more rocks. Good luck. Don’t get squished.”

  Strange, when stress has nothing better to do, and its source never manifests, it eventually dies. The first few minutes of nail-biting navigation through the field, her crew dancing on her heels were some of the worst of Jaeger’s brief second life. With every breathless passing moment, she expected to hear the violent blurt of comms static indicating that one of her shuttles hadn’t been able to dodge an oncoming asteroid in time.

  After ten or so minutes of tight-chested anticipation came and went without a fatal crash, the adrenaline fizzled out, and Jaeger found herself breathing easily as she slipped her fighter through the closing gap between two colliding asteroids. Being within the shadow of such dense objects momentarily obstructed her radar, and when she glided out of the shadow, six small, fast-moving objects blossomed on the edge of her radar range.