by R S Penney
Arin strode forward.
Backing away with his hands up, Jack felt the blood drain out of his face. “Whoa, easy there, buddy,” he said. “If we start breaking each other's bones, it's only gonna make it that much harder to get out of here.”
“There is no getting out of here!”
“I know you think that, but-”
In three quick strides, Arin closed the distance. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, Jack just couldn't get away fast enough. The last thought of any coherence that he had was that this was not going to go well, and then Arin was jabbing at his face.
Jack ducked and felt the man's fist pass over him. With one hand, he took a fistful of Arin's shirt and gave a shove, forcing his opponent to dance backward, putting a little space between them.
Arin staggered drunkenly, then spread his arms wide and regained his balance. The man came forward like a cat loping across the front lawn, leaped and kicked high.
Jack threw himself forward in a dive, hit the floor and somersaulted across the tiles while Arin flew past above him. He came up on one knee, stood and whirled around just in time to see the other man standing with his back turned.
Arin bent forward and kicked out behind himself.
Jack's hands came together in front of his midsection, intercepting the man's foot before it could do any damage. “I don't want to fight you, Arin,” he said, backing away until he was nearly pressed against the wall. “The enemy of my enemy and all that.”
Rounding on him, Arin strode forward like a tidal wave on course for a shoreline. The man bared his teeth, a sheen of sweat on his brow. “I don't care,” he said. “We will never get out of here; so I may as well take out my frustration on you.”
He rushed in for the kill.
Jack jumped.
Curling up into a ball, he back-flipped through the air, tumbling until his feet hit the wall. Then he compressed like a spring and pushed off, using a surge of Bent Gravity to propel him across the arena.
He landed near the opposite wall, panting, then looked back over his shoulder. “We kill each other here,” he said, “the only one who wins is them. The first duty of a captive is to escape. I need your help.”
Arin paced around the arena like a circling predator, glancing in Jack's direction with eyes that belonged on a pouncing hyena. “Idiot,” he said. “They've taken us across the galaxy by now. No one will ever find us.”
“So, we steal a shuttle.”
A grin blossomed on the other man's face, and he shook his head as he closed the distance between them. “Your endless optimism amazes me, Hunter,” he said. “Don't you think they can hear everything we say?”
A glance up at the window revealed concerned faces staring down at him. Yes, the Ragnosians were listening. Well, let them. He wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of being a good little test subject. “I don't care,” Jack insisted as his enemy approached. “I'm not giving up. I-”
He cut off when the other man attacked again.
They were meant to simulate humans: three slim robots with blue limbs and white torsos all made of light, flexible plastic. Round, blue heads with white faceplates turned to fix glowing blue eyes upon Anna. They were designed to move like ordinary humans, with speed comparable to that of ordinary humans. Anna had cranked up their reaction times to seventy-five percent above normal.
Doing so had produced a string of objections from the ship's onboard computer. These drones were designed to provide military officers with simulated opponents for hand-to-hand drills. Upping their stats to the point where they could be a challenge for a Justice Keeper had exceeded safety specs. Right now, she needed that challenge.
In black shorts and a tank-top, Anna stood in the middle of the triangle formed by the three robots. Her short hair was tied back with a few flyaway strands falling over her face. “Begin combat simulation,” she ordered.
In unison, the three robots advanced.
The one on her right was her first target.
Anna ran toward it, leaped and turned belly-up in mid-flight. She wrapped her legs around the robot's neck, locking her ankles, and swung her upper body like a pendulum. This pushed the robot down onto its back with Anna perched on its chest.
She punched it right between those glowing eyes, causing both to go dark. There was a soft whir as the bot went still. The other two were converging on her, both on her left, but one was a little closer.
It tried to kick the side of her head.
Anna flung one hand out to the side, catching the drone's ankle before its foot made contact. With a tug on its leg, she forced the robot down onto its back. The third one was almost on her.
Anna fell backward, curling her legs up against herself, somersaulting until she was clear. Rising smoothly on the gym mat, she looked up and snarled at the last bot. “Come on then…No need to be shy.”
The drone she had knocked down was rising.
The one that was still on its feet stepped over its fallen comrade and strode toward Anna with those jerky, mechanical movements, its limbs moving with just a bit too much speed. There should have been no emotion in those glowing eyes, but Anna was sure that she saw anger there.
When it got within arm's reach, the drone raised its hand and tried to bring its fist down on her head.
Anna leaned to the side, plastic fingers whistling past her ear. She twisted, grabbing the robot's arm with both hands. With an inhuman scream, she forced the drone to double over, and then she ripped the arm off its body.
Registering a fatal wound, the drone's eyes went dark.
Anna turned to find her third and final opponent coming toward her, drawing back its fist for a hard punch. “Nice try.”
She flung the arm at the drone and, with incredible reflexes, the bot reached up to catch its companion's limb in one hand. Shrieking, Anna charged toward it. Blood was pounding in her ears.
She leaped and spun in midair, kicking out behind herself. Her foot slammed into the robot's belly with enough force to hurl the thing backward. Still gripping the severed arm, the drone staggered until it hit the wall.
Anna wasn't done.
She sprinted over the gym mat like a cheetah on the plains, jumped and curled her legs as she flew. The drone lowered the arm just in time to look up at her with glowing blue eyes.
Anna kicked its head, smashing circuitry against the wall. There was a soft crackle and a hiss of smoke rising from ruined components. Then the drone slumped against the wall until its legs were stretched out and its battered head hung lopsided.
Panting, wheezing, Anna stood upon the gym mat. Her exposed skin glistened with sweat; her hair was drenched. And the satisfaction she longed for, the release of all that pent up energy, had once again been denied. No matter how many times she did this, she never felt an ebb in her anger.
A hologram appeared at her side, the prim figure of a man in a back Space Corps uniform who stood with his hands behind his back. His stern face inspected the damage with obvious disapproval. “I would once again remind Operative Lenai that the facilities on this ship were not designed to accommodate the training regimen of Justice Keepers.”
Maintenance bots were already collecting the damaged robots and wheeling them off to a repair bay. They would be functional again in about half an hour, and there were more than three in stock, but perhaps it was time to stop.
She had been in here for over an hour, trying to blow off steam after this morning's activities turned up a fat wad of nada. They had gone over every inch of debris from the shuttle, looking for some indication of where the battlecruiser might have come from or where they might have gone. Nothing. No help whatsoever.
They found all the usual indicators of high-energy particle weapons, but there was nothing to indicate that those weapons had to have been manufactured in a certain place. Not that she had expected to find anything. Particle weapons were very generic. But she was desperate now, grasping at any straw to avoid the uncomfortable conclusion.
/> Jack was probably dead.
Head hanging, Anna wiped sweat off her brow with the back of one hand. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbled. “Message received. No more trashing the place.”
The hologram vanished.
“That's a pity,” Cassi said.
Anna gasped at the sound. It wasn't easy to sneak up on a Justice Keeper, but you could do it if you came in while they were distracted and you kept still afterward. Spatial awareness showed her a mildly amused Cassi standing by the entrance with arms folded. The woman must have come in halfway through the fight.
“It was fun watching you trash the place,” Cassi added. “I made a few mental notes for things I might try.”
Anna turned to face her, spread her arms wide and then let them drop again. “Glad I could provide a little entertainment,” she said, pacing across the mat. “But it really didn't do anything to ease my stress.”
Cassi leaned back against the wall and looked up to study her with a wary frown. “I wouldn't think so,” she said. “I've only known you a short time, and already I can tell that you're not the sort of person to find relief in a stress ball. You need to do something.”
Shutting her eyes, Anna pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead and massaged in little circles. “You'd think I'd be happy.” Her words were a strained croak, almost as if someone was choking her as she spoke. “We found no debris from the shuttle's fuselage. That means he's most likely alive.”
Cassi nodded.
“But I have no idea where to go next! Space is huge. They could have taken Jack to a nearby system or to a rendezvous point in deep space or back through the Gate for all I know! Bleakness take me, it's been almost five days. Do you have any idea how far they could have traveled in that time?”
Cassi had that look people sometimes got when they were trying to do arithmetic in their heads. Anna spared her the effort. She had been keeping a running tally all this time and updating it on an almost hourly basis.
“Eight hundred twenty-four point two lightyears,” she said. “Assuming they set out immediately after bringing Jack aboard. That could put them smack dab in the middle of Antauran Space. Or in the unexplored regions toward the Core. Or on the other side of Earth, for that matter.”
“Are you saying you want to give up?”
Anna seated herself on a bench at the edge of the gym mat, shaking her head as she sighed. “Of course not,” she answered. “But short of trying to change the course of fate by sheer force of will, I don't know what else to do.”
With a soft murmur, Cassi walked over and plunked herself down in front of Anna, sitting with her legs curled up and hugging her knees. “You know, I really resented you,” she began. “I just couldn't figure out why Jack was so into a woman who worked so hard to push him away.”
“Cassi, this really isn't the time-”
“Let me finish.”
When Anna looked up, the other woman held her gaze with surprising intensity. “It took some time,” Cassi went on, “but I'm starting to figure it out. The whole way here, I was sure that Jack was dead. I kept planning how I would go about my work without him. Because who could survive what we saw in those sensor logs. But not you. You never lost faith.”
“I wouldn't say that,” Anna muttered. “There were several desperate moments when I was sure he was dead.”
“But you kept pushing forward anyway,” Cassi protested. “I don't think I'd be able to do that.”
Blushing hard, Anna smiled into her lap. “I'm not so sure.” Her words were a gentle murmur, barely more than a whisper. “You were the one who cornered me and demanded that I take you with me.”
Cassi stood up, pressed her lips together and nodded once. “We've come this far,” she said. “Keep trying, Lenai. If there's one thing I've learned in the short time that I've known you, it's that anything that stands in your way gets trampled.”
With that, Cassi marched out of the room and left her to think.
Thrown across the cell, Arin went shoulder-first into the wall, bounced off and hit the floor. The man rolled onto his stomach and looked up with bleary eyes, blinking in a haze of confusion. God damn it. Some people never learned.
Jack stood about twenty paces away with his fists up in a defensive posture. “Stay down!” he shouted. “In case you've forgotten, the real enemy is on the other side of those windows, laughing as we beat the crap out of each other.”
Arin forced himself to stand.
“Stay down!”
To Jack's surprise, the other man took two steps forward, then sank to his knees and sobbed. It was almost painful to watch and even worse to hear. Those were the whimpers of perfect despair.
Closing his eyes, Jack brushed sweat-slick bangs off his forehead. “Okay. That's a start.” He moved forward at a measured pace, careful to avoid doing anything that might seem aggressive. “Let's talk.”
Jack dropped to one knee in front of the other man, an anxious frown tightening his mouth. “Tell me what happened,” he urged. “How did you end up here?”
When Arin looked up, his eyes were bloodshot and tears stained his dark cheeks. “I was on a mission,” he choked out. “On Palissa.”
“Palissa?”
“A ziarogat attacked me, stunned me and then delivered me to a ship. They kept me sedated for most of the trip. I regained lucidity just in time to find myself being dragged through a corridor by men in heavy body armour. They threw me in a holding cell, where I waited for half an hour.
“When they came back, I thought they were going to execute me…Or experiment on me. But instead, they shoved guns in my face and marched me through the cell-block. The next thing I knew, I was in here.”
Jack wanted to ask more about Palissa – what exactly were Slade's people doing on a tiny, backwater planet like that? – but pumping Arin for information wasn't a good way to earn his trust. It was time to employ some empathetic listening skills.
He bit back the urge to express sympathy or to point out that it must have been a traumatic experience. Normally, that was a great way to build rapport, but Arin might see it as pity, and that would almost certainly make him clam up. “So, Slade betrayed you,” Jack said. “It's almost like he's a bad guy or something.”
“What do you know about it?”
Jack grinned, his body shaking with laughter. “Good point,” he teased. “It's not like I work for an organization that Slade manipulated for years toward his own political ends. Nope, I'm completely ignorant on this topic.”
Arin's face was stone. His tears were all gone now, replaced by a frosty glower that promised pain to anyone who pissed him off. It was an empty threat, though. “Slade did not betray me,” Arin panted. “It was I who failed the Inzari.”
“Oh, that's bullshit.”
“My gods have forsaken me,” Arin mumbled as if Jack hadn't even spoken. Hell, the guy seemed almost oblivious to Jack's presence. “It can only mean that I have failed. That I am unworthy.
Tossing his head back, Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Turns out you suck at inflicting senseless violence on innocent people. You should be ashamed.”
This time, Arin didn't even bother to glare. He just slumped forward, head hanging as he sucked in a ragged breath. “I wasn't strong enough,” he whispered. “That was why the symbiont rejected me.”
What was this?
Was Arin saying that he had tried to become a Justice Keeper at some point in the past? That would explain a lot. If the symbiont had rejected him, it might have driven the man to seek another means of fulfilling his dreams.
Jack could see it all in his head: a dejected Arin feeling lost after finding out that his dream of becoming a Keeper wasn't going to come true, Slade coming along to offer the young man an alternative. Bonding a corrupted symbiont. But something about this didn't add up.
If Arin had trained to become a Keeper, there would have been some record of him in the database. The man had spent over half a year in a detention cell. You didn't
hold a prisoner that long without checking his ID. So, Jack could only conclude that there were no records to find.
The rant continued without interruption while Arin shook his head and shuddered. “I have failed…” It was becoming a mantra. “My gods have abandoned me.”
“Arin, listen to me.”
“I've failed…I've failed.”
“You didn't fail.”
Somehow, Jack's words had an impact, and Arin looked up as if seeing him for the first time. There was confusion in the other man's eyes but also hope. A desperate hope that hung on by a thread.
Jack narrowed his eyes and held the man's gaze. “You did not fail, Arin.” It was the pronouncement of a king, delivered with firm, forceful conviction. “Those gods you're so eager to please? They failed you.”
“That's not possible…They are divine.”
With a sigh, Jack stood up and towered over the other man. “I agree,” he said with a nod. “Gods should not be able to fail you in that way. But you're ignoring the simplest explanation.”
Arin trembled.
“They're not gods,” Jack insisted. “They never were.”
He offered his hand, and Arin shied back as if the touch of Jack's skin was poison. The man was conflicted; you only had to look at him to see that much. Jack's heart went out to him. He remembered interrogating Cara Sinthel and the fantastic story of how the Overseers killed her and brought her back in a new body.
Many times, over the last few months, Jack had wondered what he would do if he found himself in such circumstances. Would he be overawed by the Overseers? He was pretty sure that the answer would be “no.”
Jack wasn't willing to rule out the possibility of life after death, but he was even less willing to believe that the Overseers had performed a miracle. The original Cara had been a dedicated Keeper, but the new version was fiercely loyal to her “Inzari.” The most logical explanation was actually pretty simple; when the Overseers rebuilt her brain, they made a few tweaks.