“It’s not my choice,” Shane croaked, his throat tight and mouth dry. “It’s got to be up to Lucas.”
A subtle shift changed everything about Lucas’s face, from the light in his eyes to the set of his jaw.
“If I have to choose between death and co-habitation, I’ll shack up with a spook,” Lucas said, with a twist of his lips that was one-hundred percent him. “Don’t be stupid. Take the goddamn win.”
“Okay,” Shane replied, letting out his breath. “All right.” He looked past the smoking heap of EMBLA’s remains. “What about the other bots?”
Lucas’s vacant stare told Shane that the daemon was back in charge. “They are sentient. Aware.”
“They’ve got no leader,” Shane replied, torn about the decision he’d made in the split second when Lucas’s life hung in the balance. He’d intended to draw EMBLA off, not sure that destroying the bot had even been possible. Then again, Shane and Lucas had never hesitated to kill a human who posed a lethal threat.
“Some of the lesser daemons might be willing to inhabit the most compatible of the creations, to…collaborate.”
Shane’s eyes widened at the ramifications. It would almost be like birthing a new species. The daemons had sentience and empathy. The bots had a degree of awareness but lacked empathy. But together…
“Promise to keep them from turning into predators,” he bargained.
“We have seen enough of chaos,” the daemon replied.
“Then you have yourself a deal.” Shane doubted he had official authority to sign off on a new sentient robo-entity, but fuck it. There was no one left to complain.
“If you wish to speak with me, I will come forward,” the daemon said. “Otherwise, Lucas is himself.”
Lucas shook his head like he was coming up from a swim. Shane saw fear and confusion in his friend’s eyes, along with something he hadn’t glimpsed in a long time. Joy.
“It’s…vast,” Lucas said, and Shane knew he was talking about whatever sliver of consciousness he shared with the daemon. “It’s going to take some getting used to. But then again, so would being dead.”
Shane offered him a hand to help him to his feet. “This is better than dead.”
“Yeah,” Lucas replied, dusting himself off. “Definitely better.” He glanced around the room, from the smoking shell of the downed robot to its newly fostered creations. “We’re done here. Let’s get gone.”
Epilogue
“You think we did the right thing?” Lucas asked as he and Shane took a week off from their travels, opting to stay at Fort Getty to recover. It wasn’t a vacation; the fort needed every resident to pitch in on the everyday chores, but the break from the road was something both men sorely needed.
“You’re here. The bots have a new keeper. We’ve made worse decisions,” Shane replied and took a slug of the raw homemade whiskey that was Major Harris’s pride and joy.
Lucas’s hand went to his chest. Beneath his shirt, the twisted pink scars of a fatal burn stretched across his skin like lightning. The fort’s doctor had remarked he’d never seen a man struck like that who lived, but all the diagnostics he could run showed Lucas to be in perfect health.
Perhaps a little too perfect.
“Doc said my vitals are better than what he’d expect from a teenager,” Lucas said. “As if I’d stopped aging. Or actually got younger.”
“All those stories about the miracle water at Lourdes? The Fountain of Youth? If those were daemons, then yeah, you might be bulletproof and immortal. Damn.”
“I’m not going to test either theory, but…it’s weird to think about.”
“I’m glad you’re still here.” Shane took another swig.
“So am I. Surprised, but glad.”
“I think that the daemon—”
“Rocky.”
“What?”
“Rocky. That’s what I call the daemon. Because it came from High Rock.”
“Rocky?”
“You have a better idea?” Lucas challenged.
“He’s your daemon, you get to name him,” Shane conceded, secretly thrilled to be back to their old familiar banter. “Anyhow, I think…Rocky…is saprophytic.”
“That sounds dirty.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Like Spanish moss. It coexists with its tree hosts in a mutually beneficial relationship. Unlike a parasite, which kills its host.”
“You figured this out, how?”
“Doc and I did a little digging through his reference books, while you were resting,” Shane admitted.
“Am I different?” Lucas asked, looking away as he took a sip of his own drink. “I mean, I can tell that Rocky’s in here with me, way in the back. Sometimes, when I dream, I know the memories aren’t mine. I know we had to let Doc in on it, but other people? I don’t think they’ll take it well. Can you tell that I’m not…human…anymore?”
Lucas didn’t look at Shane, but Lucas was certain Shane could hear the worry in his voice.
“You’re you,” Shane replied with a shrug. “Same old asshole I’ve known all my life. Except—”
“What?” Lucas asked, clearly nervous.
“You sing now.”
“I sing?”
“Well, Rocky does. The daemon’s song that I heard coming from High Rock? Now it comes from you.”
“So other daemons will know?”
“Almost certainly.”
“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” Lucas asked.
“Probably good, on the whole. It might keep the bad daemons from fucking with us. If there are creatures out there that also pick up on the song, they might think twice about causing trouble. We still really don’t know what you could do in a fight, with the daemon’s energy inside you.”
“Well, shit. I’m going to have to think about that for a while because Rocky says he’s never possessed anyone before.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, looking up at a night sky that seemed much darker and star-filled without city lights. “When we go out again, where do you want to go?” Shane asked.
“Figured we’d go to Fort Detrick and see about those zombies,” Lucas replied, sipping his whiskey again. “Maybe some weres, too, if Harris’s intel is right.”
“Fine by me. Sounds like our kind of party,” Shane answered with a grin, letting Lucas know that daemon or not, everything was business as usual.
About the Authors
Gail Z. Martin writes epic fantasy, urban fantasy, steampunk, and comedic horror for Solaris Books, Orbit Books, Falstaff Books, Worldbuilders Press, SOL Publishing and Darkwind Press. Her series include Darkhurst, Assassins of Landria, Chronicles of the Necromancer, Ascendant Kingdoms Saga, Deadly Curiosities and the Night Vigil. As Morgan Brice, she writes urban fantasy MM paranormal romance, including the Witchbane,Badlands, and Treasure Trail series.
Larry N. Martin writes and co-authors science fiction, steampunk, and urban fantasy for Solaris Books, Falstaff Books, Worldbuilders Press, and SOL Publishing. His newest book is The Shattered Crown, a portal gaming fantasy. He also is the author of Salvage Rat, the first in a new space opera series.
Together Gail and Larry co-author the steampunk series Iron and Blood: The Jake Desmet Adventures, a series of related short stories: The Storm & Fury Adventures, and the snarky monster hunter series Spells, Salt, and Steel set in the New Templar Knights universe. Short stories also appear in the anthologies Cinched: Imagination Unbound, Weird Wild West, Alien Artifacts, Afterpunk, and many others. Also watch for another new series coming soon: The Joe Mack Shadow Council Files.
You can learn more about Gail and Larry at GailZMartin.com LarryNMartin.com, or join their newsletter and get free excerpts at http://eepurl.com/dd5XLj.
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Copyright 2019 by Gail Z. Martin and Larry N. Martin
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is coincidental. Except that bit about that guy. That’s totally a thing.
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