by Terry Mixon
“I’ll have to play this day by day and see what happens. And while I do, we’re going to have to deal with the fact that we have someone on this ship that needs both protecting and assessing.
“I don’t want to be the only one talking to her. We should all have our turns discussing things with her and trying to figure out what we can about where she came from and who she is. We may never get a better chance to understand the inner workings of the Singularity.”
“Maybe later,” Anders said. “We don’t want to overwhelm her. For the moment, I think you and Sergeant Na are the best people to interface with her.
“But once we do have a chance to start talking to her, maybe she’ll change your mind about her, Alan. Kids are kids, after all. They have a way of getting inside your heads.”
“I hope she does,” the man admitted. “I already feel like a jackass about how I feel. I’ll talk to the crew and start finding out if we have any brewing problems. The last thing we want is a confrontation between the crew and the marines.”
Anders nodded. “Good. Pass along that I’ll come down like the wrath of God on anyone that offers this child so much as a harsh word. If they can’t do that, then they need to tell us so that we can make accommodations before the fact.”
He rubbed his face and looked at Grace. “I don’t envy the position you’ve put yourself in, Grace, but I’m going to back your play. It’s the right one to make, and I’ll do my part to shield that girl from the worst elements in the Empire. Better get a big compound. I might need a place to crash.”
She laughed. “You’ll be able to afford your own compound. Maybe we could be neighbors. Are you in, Kyle?”
The redheaded man sighed and nodded. “God save me, I suppose I am. So, now that we’ve all screwed up our careers, I think we should focus on the next target. It’s one flip from the next system and should be straightforward. We have more than enough concealed missiles to take it out.
“But once we do, our anonymity is gone. Hell, I’m surprised we got out of Aponte without being ID’d as the bad guys. Outright shooting up an orbital is going to blow our cover for sure.”
“We’ll just have to hope that Kayden is right about there being no organized defensive force close by,” Anders said. “If there is, we’ll pass it by.”
He turned to Grace. “Will there be a ceremony for Scott? If so, do you mind if we attend?”
“We’d be happy to have you both,” she said. “It’s going to be a sad time, and more friends will only lighten the load. If there’s nothing else, I need to have a long conversation with One Twenty-Four. And I need to have my back looked at.”
Anders frowned. “Do we have to keep calling her by a number? That’s too damned impersonal for my taste. And what’s wrong with your back? I didn’t see anything about an injury in the report. Dammit, you should’ve gone there first.”
“Duty before pain,” she said as she rose from her seat. “Na cleaned it up enough for me to get by. Thank you for your support, gentlemen. I deeply appreciate it.”
As she left the wardroom and headed for the medical center, she felt relieved. That had gone better than she’d had any right to hope. She might just pull this off—if she could convince the girl that she really was on her side.
19
One Twenty-Four spoke with Fei for at least an hour before the hatch opened and admitted Grace. She was accompanied by the man who’d treated One Twenty-Four’s injuries when they’d captured her.
Fei rose smoothly to her feet. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Little One. I look forward to getting to know you better. I’ll see you again soon.”
One Twenty-Four felt a little lost now that the woman was leaving. She really was the only one of her captors that she knew.
Yes, she’d met Grace, but she barely knew the woman. They’d only spoken for a couple of minutes.
She certainly didn’t know the man. One Twenty-Four still wasn’t certain exactly what he was. She had much learning to do.
To her surprise, Grace went over to another one of the tables and hopped up to sit on it so that the man could begin helping her to undo the top of her coveralls. The woman winced a little as the man helped her to get her arms free.
That left her, surprisingly, without clothes on her torso.
She’d never seen Keeper in anything other than her uniform, so she had only an approximate understanding of what breasts were supposed to look like. Grace’s were larger than she suspected Keeper’s were, so that meant that they’d be larger than hers, once she matured.
The woman’s breasts were more aesthetically pleasing than she’d imagined. They weren’t simple mounds of flesh like she’d imagined. They had curves and a visible firmness that she hadn’t expected.
“You can come over,” Grace said. “I don’t bite.”
The sound of the woman’s voice, and her terrible accent, startled One Twenty-Four out of her reverie. Then the meaning of what she’d said came through, and she frowned.
“Do people in the Empire bite others? Why?”
Grace chuckled. “It’s just an old saying. I’m not quite certain where it came from. It means that I’m not going to cause you any harm. Just come over, and we’ll talk while Gerard works on me.”
One Twenty-Four hopped off the bed she’d been sitting on and picked up the chair that Fei had been using earlier. She carried it over close to the other table and was about to sit when she wondered what the man was doing.
Then she remembered that Fei had said Grace had been injured while defending her. Rather than sitting, she walked around to the back of the bed and gasped when she saw the bloody mess that was Grace’s upper back.
Something had cut it up and punctured it in numerous places. There was dried blood and red, angry flesh everywhere. She’d never seen an injury so grievous before.
“Someone shot you,” she said. “Fei said that happened while you carried me from where I fell. I should thank you for your kindness, though I’m still uncertain whether this is kindness at all. Why did you risk your life for me?”
“You think so poorly of us,” Grace said as the man began using a set of tweezers to pick bits of debris out of the injury. “I protected you because I’d rather die than allow someone to hurt a child. I’m not alone in feeling that way. You don’t really know us yet, so I hope that, in time, you’ll come to accept that some of us don’t mean you harm.”
“Meaning that others do,” One Twenty-Four countered, her gaze still captivated by what the man was doing.
“That remains yet to be seen. Will some people dislike your presence? Yes. Will some dislike you simply because of where you came from? Absolutely. Will they hate you personally? I hope not.”
“What happens to me now?” One Twenty-Four asked quietly. “Will Gerard hurt me?”
“No. Other than the fact that he’s a gentle soul, he’s a doctor. They take an oath as healers to cause no harm, and he embodies it. You’re perfectly safe with him.”
She watched the man pull bits of debris from Grace’s back and marveled that the woman’s expression remained serene. It had to hurt, but the woman allowed no hint that pain to reach her expression.
One Twenty-Four stepped closer and looked at the debris that the man—Gerard—was placing into a small pan. Most of it seemed to be small chunks of some material that she wasn’t familiar with, but one of the objects was different.
She reached down and picked up a small metal dart whose tip was severely deformed. It was made of an unknown material and seemed to be designed to fly through the air. It looked dangerous.
“What is this?” she asked, frowning up at Grace.
“It’s called a flechette,” the woman said. “The weapons we carry and the ones carried by the guards who came after you fire those at very high velocity. That one struck the armor on my back, penetrated a weak spot, and went to me. Hopefully, there aren’t too many more of those in there.”
One Twenty-Four set the flechette down. The idea of
intentionally killing someone was strange. Yes, she’d fantasized about ending Thirty-One, but this felt different. Where her anger with Thirty-One came from something between the two of them, weapons that killed with these small pieces of metal seemed much more… impersonal.
“And this is because you’re an Imperial Marine? Fei tried to tell me you were no longer marines, but I can see that that is a fiction. So, you fight others because your emperor says you must? I suppose the Singularity has troops that do so as well, but I’ve only met the crèche guards. I don’t really understand how any of that works.”
The man—Gerard—finished pulling the bits of debris out of Grace’s back and then used a liquid to clean it. Once that was done, he picked up the same handheld device that he’d waved over One Twenty-Four to make her pain go away, and she watched, fascinated, as the flesh of Grace’s back began to heal before her very eyes. In just a couple of minutes, it was as if it had never been damaged at all.
Once that was done, Grace slid her arms back into the sleeves of her coveralls and shrugged them back over her shoulders before sealing it. She turned her head toward the man and said something in their language. Standard, Fei had called it.
He said something in return, nodded toward One Twenty-Four, and left the room.
When the two of them were alone, One Twenty-Four wondered what the woman was going to do next. This moment felt charged with energy, as if something were going to happen, but she didn’t know what.
“Fei said that you’ve already eaten,” Grace said. “If you’re still hungry, we can get more.”
One Twenty-Four frowned. “When did she say that? Or did Jane tell you?”
“It was Fei. She sent a message to me through our implants. Jane did pass it along, since this ship doesn’t have the right kind of repeaters to do so.”
“Implants?” One Twenty-Four asked. “What are those?”
The woman considered her for a moment before speaking. “The Singularity has prohibitions against putting machines inside the body, so you won’t like the answer. In the Empire, we have small, purpose-built computers inside our heads. They allow us to remotely control equipment and process information. Also, they allow nonverbal communication.”
One Twenty-Four’s frown deepened. “That is forbidden, and we’ve been taught that it was a poor attempt to compensate for your random genetics, attempting to approximate the pinnacle of human development as embodied by the ruling caste in the Singularity. It sounds… disgusting.”
“Opinions vary,” the woman said. “In point of fact, implants were in use before the founders of the Singularity were thrown out of the Empire. Since the ruling caste didn’t exist then, I could argue that the Singularity was trying to match the performance we’d already achieved through genetic manipulation.
“But I don’t want to argue about it. You asked a question, and I answered it. I’m only informing, not persuading.”
“My education isn’t complete,” One Twenty-Four admitted, “but Keeper was quite clear that the ruling caste came first.”
“Then she was either mistaken or basing her conclusion on bad information. Propaganda can be used on people inside a society, too. Or she might have known better and said that anyway.”
“Perhaps it was you who was misled.”
Grace smiled slightly. “I don’t think so, but I’ll allow for the possibility. We can argue philosophy later. Are you still hungry?”
“What is philosophy?”
“That’s the field of study revolving around questions about existence, values, reason, and knowledge. If I remember correctly, it came about in ancient Greece, long before humans ventured away from Terra.
“I’m no philosopher myself, but it involves posing questions that have to be resolved via critical discussion and rational arguments. A systematic presentation of the argument is also important.”
One Twenty-Four blinked at the woman. She’d never heard of anything even remotely like that.
“In the crèche, we are told how the universe works, and we learn to test things like chemistry, but nothing like philosophy. Keeper wouldn’t like any of us disagreeing with her.”
“Then that’s another difference between her and me. I don’t mind a reasoned discussion when I have time. Still, you’ll probably want to do some research before you argue your point. Food?”
One Twenty-Four shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I’m worried about what will happen to me next. Everything has changed, and I don’t like it.”
“No one likes change, particularly when they don’t have any control over it. Stability is important. Would you like to go see where you’ll be staying?”
The idea of new living accommodations hadn’t occurred to One Twenty-Four. Obviously, she wouldn’t be sleeping in the crèche anymore. The crèche didn’t even exist. Though, she supposed, the crèche was the people rather than the place.
That was when it hit her. She wasn’t going to be sleeping with her line sibs anymore. She’d never see any them again. She was alone.
This was the first time in her life that she had even been alone. She knew no one here. No one was like her. Suddenly, she was terrified.
Her throat felt constricted, and she swallowed, trying to clear it. “What happens to me now?”
“Nothing bad,” the woman said as she stood and held out her hand. “I’ll take you someplace where you can sleep if you’re tired. If not, we can talk. We’ve got a lot to discuss.
“I know almost nothing about you, but I’m responsible for you in ways that neither of us understands yet. The two of us are going to have to get to know one another a lot better.
“I’m glad you feel comfortable calling Fei by her given name. She’s showing you how much she likes you by allowing it. I’d like you to call me Grace for the same reason.”
“Very well. Do you have a sequence number? I didn’t ask Fei. I suppose not. Is that what the family name is for?”
“Right,” the woman said with a nod of her head. “Also, while this may seem strange, I don’t feel like calling you One Twenty-Four. It makes you sound like you’re interchangeable with the others.
“You’re not. You’re a person in your own right. Andrea is a pretty name, though. May I call you that?”
“I suppose that would be like my family name in the Singularity. It will feel odd, but if that’s what you wish to call me, I cannot stop you.”
“The Imperial Marines have a long tradition of calling people by their family names, so it’s more natural than you’d guess. Come on.”
Grace led her into the corridor, and One Twenty-Four saw two female marines there. One was Jane, and the other was unknown to her.
The second woman was short and thick, with brown hair cut close to the scalp. It amazed her how everyone looked so different from one another.
Each wore the same coveralls that Grace and Fei had worn. Were they uniforms? She wasn’t sure.
The two women fell in behind them, and, together, they walked down the corridor and passed several others who were dressed in other kinds of clothes. All of them stared at One Twenty-Four as if they’d never seen anything like her.
Maybe they hadn’t.
They went up a ladder and onto another level. Then they stopped by a hatch seemingly at random.
“This compartment is next door to mine,” Grace said, gesturing to the next hatch. She pressed the control, and the hatch in front of them slid open.
The room inside was small. Barely two meters by two. It had two bunks that folded out from the wall, one above the other. It also had a desk and chair, as well as a hatch set further into the room.
“The head—the bathroom—is on the other side of that hatch. We’ll share it, as it opens into my room, as well. You can come to see me that way if you’d like. That way, the guards can just keep an eye on the corridor without disturbing you.”
The room dismayed her, though she’d known she wouldn’t have others around her. She’d never felt so isolated.
“Did you live with other girls like yourself?”
“Yes. We shared a dorm. We were never alone. Only Keeper spent time apart from us.”
“Good, then you know that it can be normal. I know this will feel scary, but you’ll get used to it. If you feel lonely, you can come to me at any time—day or night—and we’ll talk.”
Grace stepped inside the small room and took a seat in the chair. “Come on in. This will be your home for at least the next few weeks, so you’ll want to get used to it.
“There’s a built-in computer that you can use to watch entertainment or read a book. We have slates that work for that as well. I’ll make sure that you get one.
“Meanwhile, I need to explain the situation in which we find ourselves. It’s unusual and will pose problems for us both.”
One Twenty-Four walked into the room, hardly noticing when the hatch slid shut behind her. She sat down on the lower bunk and rested her hands in her lap.
“I’m ready.”
“I very much doubt that,” Grace said, “but we’ll make do. I’ll bet you’re tougher than you imagine. We’ll find a way through this together.”
One Twenty-Four wanted to cry, but showing weakness wasn’t the way of the crèche. She might not belong there anymore, but it would always be a part of her.
“I’m ready,” she repeated. “As ready as I can be.”
And she was. She had to be.
20
Grace stayed with Andrea longer than she’d planned, but she needed to get used to spending time with the girl. She was going to be at her side a lot over the next decade, at least. It still hadn’t really sunk in yet just how big a commitment she’d made.
Children had never been on her scanners. She was an Imperial Marine, and that meant no time for even a steady partner, much less offspring. This was more daunting than anything she’d ever faced before, including death.
It was easy to like Andrea because she was so earnest. And she was so curious. Every time they’d start discussing something about the Empire or Singularity, questions would come up, and the conversation would go down a rabbit hole.