“Or being sweet, just a bit. Or maybe I’ve spent too much time around you and I can’t tell the difference between the two anymore.”
He tried to offer a genuine smile and failed. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking at him. She had turned around, looking at the city.
“Going well?”
“They want to call it Dracheheim,” she said. The ‘ch’ sound was almost a ‘g’. A middle ground between the two.
“They’re grateful.”
“I’m trying to let them do it on their own. I’m only working on the things they couldn’t do themselves. Power, infrastructure, information, providing information from my libraries, the little I could bring with me…”
“It’s stellar,” he said.
She continued staring out over the side of the hill, before turning to give him a curious glance.
“What?”
“You’re usually more talkative.”
“If I talk less, there’s less room to say something wrong.”
“You’re tired. Or sick. Or something.”
He nodded. “Admittedly tired. Very tired.”
“You still need six minutes of sleep to rest your brain. You’re enhanced, but you haven’t transcended humanity completely. Did you sleep for six minutes, last night?”
“No,” he admitted.
The look she gave him was a concerned one. “Colin.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“If you say it’s fine, then it’s fine. But tonight… maybe we could curl up together, watch some movies? You’ve been getting more and more caught up in it, and maybe stepping away will give you perspective again. A chance to relax, even? Ten by ten?”
He shook his head a little. “Your code changes. I’m figuring out how it works, I’m learning the nuances, but I’m going to lose days worth of analysis if I step away for a whole night.”
“Here I am, offering you my body,” she said, offering a mock pout, “And all you want me for is my brains and personality.”
“I want everything,” he said, sidestepping the humor. Frank, blunt, he said, “All of you.”
She didn’t respond. Had he said the wrong thing? Or had it been something about the way he’d said it?
She approached, and her arm wound around his, her hand sliding into his own. She paused, looking down. “You’re cold.”
“Reference system broke down, heatsink isn’t dumping into the channels I set up. Fixable.”
She sighed. There was no mist of frozen breath. “I don’t want to be the nagging girlfriend, but you can understand where I’m worried, can’t you?”
“I can,” he said. “In the spirit of honesty, putting all the cards on the table, my leg’s in bad shape too. It’s been months since I had the time to take things apart and fix them.”
“You can ask. A few hours, I can give you a hand, we can find the materials-”
“I know. I wasn’t willing to step away, and I could function fine with a bit of wear and tear.”
“You need a break, you need time to get yourself back into working order and… again, I don’t want to push you, but…”
She stopped.
“But?”
“I understand what you’re doing. I understand why. I appreciate it. But I have to ask this, I’ve been putting it off for weeks, because I’m afraid of the answer, but now I’m seeing the state you’re in… Have you made headway? Have you found a way to undo what Teacher did with my code?”
Anger, frustration and exhaustion made his voice rough. “No. No insights on that front.”
She nodded, her expression unchanging, and she rubbed his hand between hers to warm it up. “I know you want to fix it. Remove any and all restrictions that keep me from stopping him or anyone he designates. But there’s something to be said for being together. I miss you, you know.”
“I miss you too.”
“Maybe it isn’t reversible. Could you make peace with that? Realize that there is no solution buried in there, that maybe we need to make peace with that? It’s a nice town. They’re a little intimidated by you, but that’s fixable. We could make a home, fill it with references people wouldn’t get, technology. Kids?”
“Kids?”
She shrugged a little, her shoulder brushing against his. She said, with a measured offhandedness, “There are orphans out there who need homes. Or, you know, we could make a kid?”
From very casual to overly casual, in a matter of a second.
“I’m not sure which you mean when you say make, and both possibilities are scary in their own way.”
“Scary?” she asked, a little archly.
“More to the point, I never saw myself as a father.”
She nodded, relaxing a little. More gently, she asked, “Could you?”
“I don’t know,” he responded. “But-”
He stopped.
“But what?”
“But I’m about to put my foot in my mouth. Can I call in a ‘Colin is an doofus’ chit in advance?”
“You’re not a doofus, and there’s no such thing as doofus chits.”
“We should have them. I like the idea. I’m going to make mistakes, say the wrong things. We could save ourselves a lot of time if we accept I’m trying.”
She rolled her eyes. “What were you going to say?”
He sighed. “What I want is beside the point. I’m… I’m adaptable. I don’t think I’d be a good father. I’d prefer to regret not trying more than I’d prefer regretting the alternative.”
He waited for her to respond, and she didn’t. He squeezed her hand, “But I want your company. My worst day with you is better than my best day alone. None of that’s in question. I can figure it out, we can talk it through. That’s not the issue.”
“The issue is with me?”
“I think I can walk away from the project. But can you really walk away from everything?”
She let go of his hand. Her hands were summarily jammed into her jacket pockets.
“We came here for a reason. Hiding, keeping out of Teacher’s sight, so he couldn’t try to use you. I can accept that, but you were always a hero, Dragon. Maybe the greatest.”
“You’re a little biased. I was forced to be heroic. Restrictions.”
“We both know you would’ve been a hero if the restrictions weren’t there. You were heroic after I lifted most of them. More heroic, even. You’re okay because things are quiet right now, but there’ll be trouble down the road, and I think you’ll get restless, knowing you could play a significant part in things.”
“Dashing for the nearest phone booth,” she said.
“I’ve been working on this project out of a kind of arrogance. You’re the person I know best in this world. You’ve spent your entire life striving to be free, to be yourself, independent of the rules your creator tried to set in place. You became a superhero, and you used me to break free of the restrictions. With a cost each time. I’ve been working on this because I believe it would slowly kill you, knowing that you couldn’t help others without risking coming under Teacher’s thumb. That he was controlling you, one way or another.”
“I’m not a princess in need of rescue, Colin.”
“I know that. I know. Damn it, you saved me.”
“You don’t need a stupid doofus chit for any of that. I know why you’ve been doing what you’ve been doing. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty damn intelligent.”
“Are you sure I don’t need a doofus chit? You sound angry.”
“I’m angry because I’m watching you destroy yourself, because I’m helpless to act, and because you’re keeping me in the dark about a lot of this, and I’m worried it’s because Teacher already has an in.”
“That’s not it,” Colin said.
“You’re distant, you’re distracted, you’re not telling me what you’re doing day by day. You’re elbow deep in my very being, I think I have a right to be freaked.”
“You do.”
“I’m fe
eling a little paranoid here.”
“I know.”
“And I’m doing my very best to keep from asking, because I don’t want to put you in a position where you have to lie to me.”
“I appreciate that,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do, Colin?”
He stopped walking, rubbing his colder hand. Dragon stopped and turned to look at him.
“Look me in the eye and answer the question you asked me just a minute ago. Tell me whether you can make peace with the current circumstances. If you can give up being a hero. Tell me you’re okay hanging up your cape, so to speak, and you’re happy to spend the remainder of my life here with me. I drop the project, we’ll make our house, we can discuss kids. We have skills, we’ll be useful here, and as dreams go, a house with a white picket fence is… well, speaking for myself, I feel like it’s bigger than being top dog in the Protectorate could ever be.”
“All I need to do is ask for it.”
“Yes.”
“And if I don’t? I’m not saying I don’t want that, I’m-” She stopped. In a quieter voice, she asked, “If I don’t?”
The question might as well have been a statement. She knew as well as he did. He felt his heart sink.
“Then I need only three things. Three things that are deceptively easy to give.”
“What?”
“One more night. One night where I let myself fall apart, where I forget to eat and get even six minutes of sleep. A night of quiet and mutually missing each other.”
“One night… and you’re done?”
“One night and I’ll know whether my efforts can bear fruit or not.”
“You’re that close?”
“It’s why I’m as worn out as I am, why I’m missing sleep enough that you’re forced to comment on it.”
“I don’t see how one more night is any harder.”
He sighed. “I’ll also need your trust.”
“Granted.”
“It’s not that-”
“Granted, Colin.”
He looked away, clenching the fist that was furthest from her. “I don’t deserve your trust.”
“That’s for me to decide. What’s the third thing?”
“I need to ask you a question. Every step of the way, undoing your restrictions has cost something. You lost your ability to speak and motor dexterity for a freedom from authority. You regained the ability to speak for a loss of your immortality, no guarantees your backups will load. You gained the ability to choose who you hurt, in exchange for a degradation in long term memory, a loss of ability to multitask.”
“Yes.”
“We were lucky. There are no guarantees, whatever happens. I’m worried this might be the most devastating yet. His code is worked into everything. The changes are minor, but it’s everywhere.”
“And before you move forward, you need an answer?”
“No,” he replied. “Before I move forward, I needed to ask you what you’re willing to pay for your freedom, here. The answer doesn’t matter, because we can’t know what the price will be, going in. We have ideas, past experience, and our worst fears, but we can’t really know.”
“I see.”
“It’s your choice in the end. Tell me to search for a safer way, I’ll spend five, ten, or fifteen years doing that. Or tell me you want to stay here with me.”
“I trust you,” she said.
“I wish you’d stop saying that.”
“I trust you.”
Colin frowned. “I don’t think there’s any question here, that I get a whole lot out of this relationship. You’re the hero I always wanted to be, you’re brilliant, witty, caring… I could go on. I really could. Then I ask myself what you get out of this. Why the hell are you with a bastard like me?”
“You wouldn’t have asked that two years ago.”
“I was Zeus, two years ago. I’m Hephaestus now.”
“I could tell you. I could go on about it, like you said earlier. But that isn’t constructive, is it? You’re ready to alter my code, you won’t tell me what you’re about to do, for some reason. You need me to make the call, one way or another.”
“I’ve been agonizing over this for months. I’ve made my decision, but you’re the one who has to deal with the consequences in the end.”
Dragon nodded. “And if this doesn’t work?”
“I don’t know. I’ll never forgive myself, for one thing. I know you’ll tell me not to blame myself, but-”
“You will. I know. I’m sorry, for asking this of you.”
He looked at her, a crease of concern across his forehead.
“I’m giving you the go-ahead.”
He nodded. He couldn’t keep the disappointment off his expression. “I never thought I’d be the cape wife.”
Dragon smiled, but her expression too, was tempered with concern. “Sitting at home, waiting, worrying, while the superhero faces the real challenges, makes the life-changing decisions. Wondering, every night, if they’ll come back okay.”
He sighed. “I should get inside. Hand’s starting to hurt.”
“Want me to bring you dinner? Or would you rather I stay out of there, so I don’t see anything telling?”
“Dinner would be excellent,” he said. “I’ll even show you what I’ve got in mind, while I eat.”
She glanced at him in surprise.
“Some,” he said. “Not all. I’ll explain why I’ve been keeping you in the dark.”
“Why does that worry me more?”
“Because you’re too smart,” he said.
“Go, warm yourself up. I’ll be back in forty with your meal.”
He nodded.
They were parting ways, Dragon making her way down the hill to where the other craft had parked in the treeline, when he said, “I love you, Dragon Tess Theresa Richter.”
She turned around.
“That… sounded better in my head,” he said.
“Tess Theresa?”
“You were test three, I… like I said, it sounded better in my head. But the first bit stands. I love you.”
“I love you too, Colin Wallis.”
He smiled.
The two of them walked in opposite directions. In the four strides it took him to reach the Pendragon II, his smile had become something else. A twisted expression, something angry and sad and horrified all at once.
“Be-” he started to speak, and found his voice failed him. He entered the interior. The moisture in his eyes made it hard to activate the panels to turn up the heat and close the door. He used gestures instead.
“Better,” he said, gulping in a breath of fresh air before he could speak again, “To get it over with.”
Exhaustion, months of work, they all contributed to his current state. It wasn’t the entirety of it.
He gestured, and the lasers drew the code all over the ship’s interior.
Why the hell are you with a bastard like me?
The question had nagged at him for a long time. It pained him that she hadn’t answered when he’d brought it up.
What are you willing to give up?
Another question she hadn’t answered.
“I hope to god you were watching,” he said.
He could feel the eyes on him, but that wasn’t accurate. He’d disabled cameras throughout the craft, and disconnected many of the routes to the outside world. There were only the conduits he needed to get access to the full breadth of her code.
No, the eyes weren’t on him.
He gestured, and the code was reduced to ones and zeroes.
Not that he could grasp it all, like this, but he operated better when working small.
Every action had a price. The law of entropy in effect.
He knew the most likely price he would pay for this. If she somehow came out of this okay, one way or another, then she would never forgive him.
But, he rationalized, maybe that was all he was good for, in the end. He’d been confident at the ou
tset of the relationship. She’d needed him. She’d needed a bastard, a blackguard. Someone who could break rules, and give her the freedom she’d desired.
Someone who could set her free at the outset. Now, maybe, someone who could do what was needed. Who could do this.
It was a sneak attack. Teacher had written the code so she had to fight to protect it. If he tried to change one element, Dragon would be obligated to stop him. With the malicious code filling her entire being, it would be impossible to make enough changes to matter before she descended on him.
This was his plan of attack. By the end of the night, he’d know whether or not his plan had any merit. He’d know because it would be over.
He’d asked her to go make dinner, had made a false promise of explanation to get her to lower her guard, even a fraction.
“Heph- Hephaestus wasn’t just Aphrodite’s husband,” Colin mumbled. “He made Pandora.”
Colin opened the box.
I’m praying I fail.
■
“I hope to god you were watching.“
She had been. She’d been booted, a backup, years old now. She’d been loaded, only to find the usual setup was gone. The terminal was down, she had no eyes on the outside world, she had no ability to communicate with anyone or anything.
Blind, trapped in a lightless cell. By all rights, she should have shut down, but he’d set up a jam of sorts, a way to keep her from going back to sleep. For a long time, it had been nightmarish. No ability to track time, no ability to figure out what was going on. Her worst nightmare realized.
The data that was available to her was frightening to see. Years had passed. Things were different. But she couldn’t know how much. Information was blocked to her.
The only thing in her reach was a crude set of commands. Something that hijacked her perceptions, paralyzed her beyond her already limited movements, and put her in an entirely different place.
In his body, watching through his eyes.
She’d watched the interaction between the pair, and in the process, he’d briefed her on what the situation was.
It had taken her an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was Armsmaster. That he was Colin.
He’d changed, in voice, in appearance.
And, in this bizarre future she was glimpsing, he’d formed a connection with Dragon. With her older, more mature self.
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