The Cyborg Tinkerer

by Meg LaTorre

  Collecting her things, she re-sheathed her knives in the hidden pockets of her dress and returned her pistol to its holster.

  When they arrived in the east wing, dozens of rooms were open and prepared. The beds were made with clean sheets smelling of lavender, vanilla, and rose petals. Curtains had been pulled back to reveal windows several stories up.

  It appeared the emperor wished to store his cyborg guests in a massive tower—away from his human citizens. How kind.

  Still, he was arranging a meeting between the Union Council and the show management team—one that would hopefully end in the social and legal acceptance of cyborgs.

  As everyone got ready for the emperor’s dinner, picking rooms, unpacking their bags, and redressing, Gwen chose a room near the stairs and tossed her pack onto the bed and placed her skimmer in the closet. She immediately left in search of Marzanna and Akio. They had picked the vacant rooms next door.

  As she entered, hearing their conversations, her heart immediately dropped.

  “Most of the circus is dead,” Akio said. “They’re just going to keep picking us off one by one no matter where we go. What’s the point?”

  Sighing, she limped into the room and closed the door. The others turned to her. “Oh, good. I was hoping I’d catch you guys.” She turned to Marzanna. “Did you share my plan with Akio?”

  Marzanna nodded.

  “What’s the point?” Akio repeated. “We’re cyborgs. The emperor might say some pretty words now, but nothing is going to change. The Council will turn their backs on us again. There are no safe places for cyborgs—especially not Allegiant. Hell, even Bastian left us.”

  They were just words, yet it felt as though a knife had plunged between Gwen’s ribs.

  “Something’s wrong with him.” Even as Gwen spoke, her heart dropped to her feet. “He’s refusing to speak with me. Something must have happened to him. Maybe we can follow him tonight, see if we can get him alone and figure out what’s really going on.”

  “Get it through your head, Gwen,” Akio said. “He’s decided to throw in his lot with the show management team, after all. He won’t help us anymore.”

  “That’s not true,” Gwen persisted. “He wouldn’t just abandon—”

  Me.

  Would he?

  Marzanna strode over, placing a hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why he left us, but he did.”

  Swallowing back the lump in her throat, Gwen shook her head. This wasn’t happening. Something was wrong. It had to be.

  Slowly, an idea formed in her mind.

  If they wouldn’t help her, she knew someone who would.

  “Please rehearse tonight,” she said. “You did great on Jinx, but that’s no reason to stop practicing. We still have a chance to secure patronage. Go easy on your shoulder, Akio. I’ll join you guys when I can.”

  Akio threw his hands up in the air. “Are you leaving us now, too?”

  “I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

  Marzanna squeezed Gwen’s shoulder before dropping her hand. “Just let him go. He isn’t worth it.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Running down the hall, she ducked her head into room after room. Several doors were slightly ajar. Knocking, she pushed the door open, only to find several of the performers getting their jitters out.

  One man leaned against the wall, his cock free of his trousers. A second man kneeled before him, his mouth on the other man’s cock and a hand working the base.

  When the door swung open, the man on his knees looked up from his work, his lips red.

  “Get the fuck out,” said the man whose hardened cock stood proudly above unzipped trousers.

  Clearing her throat, Gwen said, “If you want privacy, close the fucking door next time.”

  She kept going, hoping to find the one person she’d avoided for weeks. The one person she swore she’d never speak to again.

  When she finally found the room she sought, she knocked.

  Rora opened the door a few seconds later, arms crossed. “What do you want?”

  “I need a favor,” Gwen said.

  “Why should I do anything for you?” Rora demanded. “You wouldn’t listen to me before.”

  “Because I can give you what you want most in the world.”

  “Oh? And what’s that?”

  Gwen exhaled heavily. “Me.”

  Chapter 31

  Rora laughed. “You flatter yourself.” But she didn’t close the door.

  Looking over her shoulder, Gwen glanced around. Countless performers roamed the hall, moving from room to room. Some held bottles of champagne and glasses in their hands while others were in various stages of undress, bringing accessories and makeup trays back and forth between rooms.

  Drowning out the memories of what happened on Jinx.

  “I need your help to figure out what’s going on with Bastian,” Gwen said, keeping her voice low. “Something’s wrong with him. It’s like he’s a different person.”

  Rora rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to get mixed up in a lover’s quarrel with my ex-girlfriend’s ex.”

  “In exchange,” Gwen continued, bringing her hand up to hold the door before Rora could close it, “I’ll tinker your hand to make sure it’s up to snuff before tomorrow’s performance. And if the emperor does offer you patronage… I will come with you.”

  And be your cyborg tinkerer.

  Rora hesitated, and Gwen saw what she sought in the woman’s eyes—greed, eagerness, the desire to win. The acrobat knew as well as Gwen that, at some point, her refurbished hand would sputter out. She’d need a new one or regular tinkering at the very least.

  Gwen pressed on, knowing she had Rora right where she wanted her. “You want to win patronage and stay on with the emperor or one of the members of his court, right? I can help you. I can be the very thing that gives your performance an edge.”

  Leaning against the doorframe, Rora crossed her arms. “You know what that means, right? If I get patronage, you’ll leave the circus and everyone in it behind. You’ll remain here in court with me.”

  Gwen swallowed back the tightness forming in her throat.

  For weeks, she’d tried spying on Bastian without success, courtesy of her damned leg. The others wouldn’t help her. They could hardly help themselves. Not to mention, they believed Bastian had left her. But in her gut, she knew he wouldn’t do that. He just wouldn’t. With no one else to turn to, that left the last person in the world she’d thought she’d team up with again—and at a great cost.

  If she was going to save Bastian, she might have to give him up.

  If she couldn’t convince him to attempt to secure patronage alongside Rora, Akio, and Marzanna, he would continue with Cirque du Borge. At best, if she did somehow convince him to vie for patronage, there was still the chance that the emperor would only choose one or two acts. But if all went according to plan and Gwen could somehow get him out of the Mistress’s clutches, at least he’d have a chance to live a happy life.

  Without Gwen.

  “I know,” she managed.

  Rora raised her eyebrows. “What do you need me to do?”

  “To start, I’d like a date for tonight’s dinner,” Gwen said. “Help getting ready, too, I suppose.” She gestured to her unruly hair. “And a nimble person who can help me spy on Mr. Bastian Kabir.”

  Slowly, Rora opened her door. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”

  When they got ready in Rora’s room, it was entirely different from the first time. Neither of them spoke more than strictly necessary, nor was there the tangible excitement that had been there before the masquerade ball on Apparatus. Both women elected to wear black gowns the color of a moonless sky. The gowns were slim-fitting to the waist with narrow skirts—easier to sneak around, should that be necessary.

  As they did the finishing touches to their hair and makeup, Gwen explained her plan to Rora.

  “I’ll approach Bastian at the ball,”
Gwen said, ignoring the softness of Rora’s hands as she fixed her hair. “If I still can’t get anything out of him, we’ll follow him and see what he’s up to and learn anything we can. He’s been attached to Celeste ever since the third competition.”

  “I’d been wondering about that,” Rora said. “He’s always hated her. She treated him like garbage when he was her apprentice, or so I’ve been told. It’s strange he’d be spending so much time with her.”

  “He made a bargain with her,” Gwen said. “During the third competition, when the Mistress threatened to extract my implant and leave me on Jinx, he offered to become her apprentice again to save me. But he wouldn’t blindly follow her like this. Something’s wrong. I just know it.”

  Rora’s fingers stopped moving in her hair as she looked directly at Gwen through the mirror. “You didn’t… try to go through with your plan, did you?”

  “Of course, I did,” Gwen snapped. “With minor alterations. And thanks to you—and the Mistress—I have a broken leg to show for it, and Bastian is… well, something is wrong.” Her eyes darkened. “If you hadn’t told Abrecan, none of this would have happened.”

  “I didn’t mean to!” Rora said, voice raised. “I would never want to hurt you, Akio, or Marzanna. Even Bastian. You’re my friends! I just… When Abrecan threatened my arm, I panicked. What would you have done if he’d threatened to rip out your eye?”

  “Fought like hell.”

  “And when that wasn’t enough?”

  “Well, I suppose I’d have one less eye.”

  Rora threw her hands up. “You’ll never understand what it’s like to want something so bad you’d do anything to get it.”

  “I wanted you!” Gwen yelled, face heated from rage. “I wanted you,” she said in a quieter voice. “Why else do you think I’d break the rules against making and installing new implants? I wanted what was best for you. I wanted you to be happy.” A barking laugh escaped her. “And you played me like a fool.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rora said. “Despite what you might think, what we shared wasn’t entirely a lie. I didn’t mean for it to get that far, but it wasn’t all an act.”

  Gwen didn’t bother responding, not believing a damned word. Rora finished Gwen’s hair in silence before moving to her own.

  When they were finished, they walked down countless hallways to the massive ballroom. Unfortunately, Gwen needed both her crutch and Rora’s assistance to move down the halls in her gown. Other performers strode in front and behind them, alongside friends or dates. Gwen couldn’t help but notice how far fewer performers there were since the last ball she’d gone to with Rora. She’d been hopeful then, excited to get to know this beautiful, dark acrobat.

  Now, she held the arm of the woman she’d thought of as her enemy only hours ago—the woman who’d betrayed Gwen and her friends to Abrecan. The woman Gwen had been willing to give up everything for in her moment of despair when she’d tried to run away on a flesh trader vessel.

  But Gwen was a different woman now, too.

  She realized she had to fight for the things she wanted most. Once, it had been her life—she had to be willing to give up her freedoms as a human and become one of the most hated people of the Union to survive her brain tumor. Then it had been fighting for the performers of Cirque du Borge as they were picked off one by one in the competition. Now, it was for the man she loved.

  It hadn’t been until the absence of the stoic ringleader during their trip Covenant that she’d fully realized how hard she’d fallen for Bastian Kabir. His absence weighed on her heart like a physical pain. She longed for his companionship, counsel, steadfast attitude, and approach to conflict. And every moment she’d seen him with Celeste was like a kick to the tits.

  On the main level of the emperor’s castle, massive doors three stories tall were open. Gwen and Rora followed the line of performers walking toward the music and the warm, yellow light spilling out from the ballroom. Human soldiers stood on either side of the door, but as they walked in, she noticed there were also plenty of armed watchmen patrolling as well.

  The room was even larger than the ballroom on Grandstand.

  At the back were stained glass windows expanding the length of a wall taller than most inns. A buffet had been set up on opposite sides of the room—long tables with countless delicacies, smelling of roasted duck, baked apple, and soft cheeses. Directly in front of the door was the dance floor, and beyond it were round tables with cushioned armchairs. Many of the performers had already started dancing to the upbeat melody the band played. But Gwen couldn’t help but notice their hesitancy.

  It would seem the memory of another dance floor surrounded by watchmen with bloodied batons couldn’t be wiped from their memories so easily.

  Some performers sat at tables, but more stood throughout the room in small clusters, speaking with one another. Because that’s all there were at this dinner party—cyborgs.

  “It appears no one was able to attend the ball in our honor,” Gwen said. “How surprising.”

  Why would the emperor go to such lengths to host a dinner party… only to have no one but the “guests of honor” attend? Why not forego the farce altogether and save his resources for the day he intended to speak with the Union Council about the Cyborg Prohibition Law?

  Rora strode into the room, and Gwen barely kept pace with her before they situated themselves before a punch bowl. Bastian wasn’t there, not yet anyway.

  Not long after, Marzanna and Akio arrived, wearing various looks of surprise to see Gwen and Rora together. Crossing the room, they stopped in front of them.

  “Ladies.” Marzanna nodded to them, an eyebrow raised in Gwen’s direction.

  Gwen cleared her throat. “I have a plan.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rora blurted.

  Starting, Gwen turned to look at her, as did all their friends. A look of relief spread across Marzanna’s face, while Akio had an air of skeptical interest.

  “I never meant to reveal the plan,” Rora said. “I panicked when Abrecan threatened my hand, and I’m so sorry for everything it cost you. But he lied in his note. I would never, ever betray you. You’re my best friends.”

  Marzanna crossed her arms. “Whatever you intended to do, Abrecan learned of our plan and told the Mistress. The watchmen broke Gwen’s leg in retribution, and Akio was shot. Things might have gone better, don’t you think?”

  “I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to say it? Ten times? A thousand? I’ll do it. But I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Rora’s eyes filled with tears. “If I was as heartless as you think, I wouldn’t have stepped into the line of fire when Akio was shot. I would’ve stayed safely at the back of the stage. But I didn’t, and I wouldn’t abandon you.” She turned to Gwen. “Any of you.”

  Gwen’s lips pressed together.

  “I wish I could take it all back,” Rora said.

  Glancing back and forth between them, Marzanna sighed. “It’s life or death, Rora. Either we fight to live, or we can die like the Union wants us to. But we do not hurt our own. We are all each other has in this world.” When she looked at Gwen, a spark of hope returned to her eyes. “And I’m not ready to roll over just yet.”

  Gwen smiled, nodding.

  Welcome back, Marzanna.

  “Do whatever you feel you must,” Marzanna said. “Tomorrow, I plan on being fucking spectacular and gaining the emperor’s patronage to get out of this hellhole we call a circus. I have no intention of returning to Apparatus after tomorrow’s performance.”

  Rora opened and closed her mouth, studying Marzanna and Akio before finally nodding. “I hope we can all acquire patronage together.” A genuine smile spread across her lips. “That would be a dream come true in more ways than one.”

  “Not that this isn’t fun, but I’m starving,” Gwen said. “I need to eat something before we become spy ninjas. Catch you guys soon.”

  Marzanna spared a less than confident glance toward Gwen’s leg, but she said
nothing as Gwen took Rora’s arm and they hobbled over to the buffet tables.

  As Gwen shoved several dumplings down her throat, she glanced toward the entrance, and her heart nearly stopped.

  Dressed in trim black pants, a vest, and matching jacket, Bastian strode into the room. His top hat was tipped slightly forward, and he wore a vacant smile. He held his cane in one hand and Celeste’s arm in the other. Matching her vibrant nails and hair, Celeste wore yet another scarlet gown; only this one had red beading throughout and a neckline that fell off her shoulders.

  Gwen had never stopped to look at the woman before, but now she could see just how beautiful Celeste was. Her curly, red hair shined in the artificial light of the ballroom, and her gray eyes swept the room, taking in everything at once.

  They strode toward the dance floor and were immediately swept into the dance. Their steps were so synchronized that it was as though they were made for each other, for this very moment.

  Gwen clenched her fists so hard that her short nails dug into her palms, breaking the skin.

  “Chill out, tinkerer,” Rora said, taking her arm. “If I recall correctly, in this dance, you’re supposed to switch partners during the song. Let’s see if we can get you close to him.” Pausing, she eyed Gwen with suspicion. “You didn’t wear your boots again, did you?”

  “Of course, I did.”

  Rolling her eyes, Rora towed her onto the dance floor.

  Gwen limped behind her, crutch in tow. “Is this really a good idea? I’m not exactly in the best dancing condition.”

  “How else do you expect to get close to him?”

  With nothing to say in response, Gwen allowed Rora to lead the dance. Like most dances, it was one Gwen didn’t know, so she stomped around the dance floor with as much grace as an elephant in a tutu.

  Rora glared at Gwen when she accidentally stepped on her foot, and she mumbled an apology. When it was nearly time to switch partners, something Gwen only knew because Rora whispered it into her ear, they moved as close as they could to Celeste and Bastian, neither of whom spoke during the dance. It was odd since most of the couples chatted as they flitted across the dance floor.