"Would you explain to me the bits you understand?"
I stared into the air, not for the first time wishing Lobo, who so often felt human, had a face I could see. He'd trusted me with the secrets of his creation, but I'd never repaid that trust. He might well be my only real friend, and he certainly had never betrayed me. I had no rational basis for not telling him about this part of my past.
Despite all that, I couldn't do it. Maybe one day, but not now.
"No," I said. "If I were ever to tell anyone, it would be you, but I can't, at least not now."
After another few long seconds, Lobo spoke again, his voice tinged with sadness. "I'm sure the irony isn't lost on either of us that I, the machine, find trust easier to grant than you, the human. I've been broken, and I've hated myself for being what I am—in large part I still do—so I can only imagine what it's like inside your mind."
I shook my head. No.
"Maybe not," he said, reminding me that although I could not see him gesture, he was always watching me, "but I can say, without any ironic intent, that I am sorry you cannot—will not—trust me with that information."
Leave it to Lobo to turn nice when I least expect it and in the process to strip me of all protective rage so I ended up feeling . . . guilty. I had to admit it: I felt guilty for not trusting him.
"I'm sorry, too," I said. "Maybe someday."
I stood in silence for a minute. Neither of us spoke. I didn't know what else to say. Apparently, for a rare change, neither did Lobo—or perhaps he was simply continuing to be nice.
"I'm going to sleep," I said. "Wake me at sunset."
"Why of course, my fleshy master," he said. "I live to be your alarm clock."
I chuckled. Normal, even if it included sarcasm, was exactly what I needed.
I stretched out on the cot and fell asleep still smiling.
"You're to report to the first barracks you cleared," Lobo said as soon as I was upright.
I stood and stretched. "When?"
"In a little over an hour. They've set up four eating groups; you have time to dine with yours if you want."
I was hungry, but the meeting with Wylak was still bothering me. "How closely were you able to monitor my conversation in that government ship?"
"More closely than you were," Lobo said. "I have audio and visual recordings from the ship's sensors, as well as a complete copy of the vital sign data it was gathering on all three of you."
"You weren't joking about what you could do to that old bucket of bolts."
"Of course I wasn't. One glance at it should have told you how easy it would be for me to penetrate."
"Maybe, but most people who look at you have no way to know the extent of your capabilities. I try not to make too many assumptions about ships."
"Fair enough," he said, "but I was, of course, correct about that thing's vulnerabilities."
"What do you think of Wylak's claims of support?"
"Because he's a politician, I assume he's lying almost every time he opens his mouth. His vitals, however, show almost no tension or variation, so either he's very good or at some level he believes what he's saying."
I'd hoped for proof that the man wasn't telling the truth, but regardless of what those sensors showed, I was still convinced he had yet to tell the worst news to Lim. He also almost certainly wasn't alone; politicians always seem to be linked in webs of obligations and alliances to other politicians.
Linked.
"His ship is connected to some Tumani government control systems, right?"
"Of course," Lobo said. "We may be on a backwater planet, but it is still a human-colonized world. The first thing any settlement does is get its networks working."
"How far past the ship into those systems could you go?"
"You want me to break into the secure systems of a planet's government?"
I shrugged. "If you can't do it, just say so. I understand. Some security is simply too tough even for a machine of your intelligence."
"There's no need to be insulting," Lobo said. "I asked to make sure I understood you correctly. If I do this and make any errors, there's a decent chance their defensive systems will track the infiltration back to me. If they do, we'll both be at high risk."
"So don't make any mistakes, and cover your tracks."
"Thank you for that sage advice, oh Master Hacker," he said. "Why didn't I think of those tactics? Now, the task is so much clearer and simpler."
"Sorry," I said.
"What exactly do you want me to find or do?"
"Search for warning signs of trouble," I said. "If Wylak is planning to undermine Lim's efforts, he'll recruit support, arrange one or more additional trips, and so on. If we know that he's making a move and, even better, what that move is, we'll have a better chance of either countering it or at least being better prepared to cope with it."
"Why didn't you say that was all you wanted? I can get that information from sensor feeds and various communication records. On most worlds, those records are highly secure and hard-encrypted, but on a place like this everything is at least a few computing generations old. The only problem with those sources is that they produce vast quantities of data, but that's nothing I can't handle with near-real-time processing."
"How soon can you be monitoring his communications?"
"I will have to proceed very carefully," Lobo said, "and I'll have to recruit and deploy low-intensity, multi-source, highly redirected probes initially, so even my first penetration attempts could take as long as a couple of days."
"Do it. If he's planning to change the deal on Lim, I want to know as soon as possible."
"I'm on it," Lobo said, "but I have to ask, what are you going to do if he is?"
"I don't have any idea," I said, "but I will be giving the matter some thought."
"Between scrubbing floors and patrolling the grounds," Lobo said.
"Yeah," I said, "then. Thanks for the words of encouragement."
As I headed out to eat, he added, "It's what I live for. That and being your alarm clock."
Chapter 33
Dump Island, planet Pinkelponker - 139 years earlier
"We have to move out of the cave," Alex said.
Han and I both nodded our agreement. We'd been training on our own, running on the beach. Han had the idea to race from the shuttle landing area to the group's cave. I'd reached it well ahead of them both, and it had taken me about six minutes to get there. Too long, we all felt, too long.
Benny stared up first at Alex's face and then at each of ours. "Why?"
"When the shuttle comes," Han said, "we have to be ready for it. If it flies in fast—and you know most of them do—we won't have enough time to get all of us there and in position for our attack. We need to be set the moment the doors open."
"He's right," Alex said. "You've told us many times that we won't get a second chance to do this. We have to win the first time, or they'll add security and trap us here forever. Or worse."
Benny nodded and focused on me. "What do you think?"
"I'm with them," I said. "We ran the path. It took us a long time."
"Jon beat us by at least a minute," Han said. "By the time we could get there from the cave, the ship could already have dropped off someone and be closing up. Jon's fast, but even he might not be able to reach the shuttle on time. Worse, if he managed somehow to make it, he'd have to fight the guards alone. That won't work."
"You know he's right," Han said.
"He is," I said.
Bob and several of the others had heard us talking and come out of the cave. They all stared at Benny.
He looked around at all of us.
More people emerged from the cave.
"I've explained before," Benny said. "We have to live where they can't watch us from above. We don't want them to know what we're doing. If they see us all sleeping near the landing area, they'll become suspicious."
"If they're bothering to watch us," I said, "and if they can rea
lly see what we're doing, they'll have seen us training. That's bound to bother them."
"It could look like you were exercising," Benny said.
"With knives?" I said. "With fighting?"
"They already think we're all stupid and useless," Benny said. "For us to end up attacking each other wouldn't surprise them. If we all move, though, it's sure to attract their attention. They might send more guards on each shuttle, which would lower our chances of success." He shook his head. "No, moving is a bad idea."
"So is staying," I said. "The time it takes to get to the landing area proves that."
"We have to split up," Bob said. "Those of who'll go after the guards need to find sheltered areas much closer to the landing spot. Maybe we can even create some places to hide."
"Everything will be so much harder if we do that," Benny said. "We'll have to get food and water to both locations, spend time relaying information between them—everyday life will require so much more work." He stared at me and shook his head slightly, his eyes almost begging me to help him.
I didn't agree with him, but I'd never seen him ask for assistance, and his expression troubled me.
"I don't know about everyone else," I said, "but I'm tired from that run. I'm thirsty and hungry, too. We can talk about this more later. Why don't we rest and eat?"
Alex and Han looked at me for a few seconds and nodded their heads.
"I could use a break," Alex said.
"And some water," Han said.
They headed into the cave. The rest of the folks followed them.
I hung back for a few seconds.
Benny did, too.
"Thank you," he whispered.
"You're going to explain this," I said.
He nodded. "Tonight, after most of them are asleep, out where you like to stare at the night."
"Tonight," I said.
Stars beamed through a cloudless sky and painted the ocean in rippling shades of gray. A gentle wind cooled the night and carried whispered odors of the life below the water's surface. Even up on the rock, I couldn't help but feel the push and pull of the tides. When I was younger—before Jennie fixed me, I reminded myself, for it hadn't been that long ago—I would often doze and dream of floating around Pinecone, Jennie beside me, the water a friend that would never hurt me. I knew better now, understood that the ocean's flow would not take me around our island and that it was a massive, animate force that would as soon kill me as support me, but back then it had been my friend. I rarely missed that simpler me anymore, but sometimes, watching the water, I ached for that happier self.
The sound of Benny's cart pierced my thoughts and cleared my head quickly. I sat and waited for him. I could have saved him a lot of work by meeting him partway, but he'd picked this spot, so I let him come to it.
"Thank you," he said as soon as he rolled into view, "both for supporting me earlier and for meeting me now."
"You said you'd explain." I hadn't meant to be so abrupt. I considered apologizing, but Benny spoke, and the moment passed.
"Of course," he said. "Of course. You're right that if the government is monitoring us, we'll have aroused their suspicions. What I'm about to discuss with you, I don't say to the others, and I'd rather you not repeat it." He paused and stared at me for several seconds. "In fact, I'd prefer this entire conversation stay between us." He went silent again.
I said nothing. He wanted me to promise not to share potentially important information with guys who were going into battle with me. I wouldn't do that without first understanding what was going on. I might not be willing to do it even then.
After a bit, he shook his head and continued. "You're not going to make this easy, are you? Fine. You decide what to tell them." He took a deep breath and stared at the ocean before again focusing on me. "I don't believe they're monitoring us. I never have. I use that justification to keep everyone in the cave, quite a distance from the landing area. When the day comes that we try to hijack a shuttle, I want everyone who's not involved in the attack to be safely distant. That way—"
I interrupted him. "—if we fail, the government might decide the others weren't involved."
"Exactly. If we lose, those in the cave might survive."
"So let us split up."
"The best of us are on the attack team," he said. "Without all of you, the people in the cave will have a very rough time of it."
"But by keeping us there, you risk the entire plan failing."
"I know," he said, "I know, but I don't want to make their lives any worse than they already are."
I walked over to him and sat on the ground, right next to him, our faces so close that I could smell his stale breath. "You're willing to risk all of us dying, but you don't want to inconvenience the others."
"No, no, it's not like that," he said, shaking his head. "I want everything to work out for everyone. I thought the best way to make that happen was to keep us together."
"Staying in the cave won't work," I said. "We explained that to you. To maximize our odds of success, we have to do every little thing right. You've explained that to us over and over during training. Arriving too late, not being in position the moment those doors open—those failures would jeopardize all that we've been training to do."
Benny looked into my eyes and for the first time I saw the young boy inside the leader. I remembered seeing eyes like those in my own reflection in the still ponds and the rain barrels.
"You're right," he finally said. "Despite what I've sometimes said during your training sessions, I thought I could find a way to make it all work out well for everyone, to make you guys so good at fighting that you would all survive, that everything would be okay. I thought that if my planning was good enough and the training was extensive enough, we'd all end up okay and no one would be hurt."
"No one hurt!" I said. I stood and backed away, afraid of the energy coursing through me. "No one hurt? You don't think we've been hurt already? You don't think being attacked over and over, learning to kill, fighting each other to prepare for taking on bigger, stronger, better-armed men—you don't think all of that hurts? This plan has already hurt us, and it's going to keep hurting us."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I really am."
"Don't be! I'm not. I used to be, but now I'm not. I understand now. If we don't attack the shuttle, we'll rot and die here. If we're going to fight, we need to be as ready as we can possibly be, because otherwise we'll fail, and the guards will kill us." I sat again and leaned close to him. "Understand this: You did what you thought was right. I've come to agree with you. We're going to do this. Some people—maybe some of us, maybe, I hope, the guards, maybe both—are going to get hurt, and some are probably going to die. That's the way it is. We've all signed up for it. You get the credit for the plan and the credit for the training. What you don't get is to pretend that no one will be hurt."
He nodded. "No, I don't. You're right. I'm still sorry, though, so very sorry."
I stared at him for a long time, wondering how he could be so smart and yet so dumb, how he could train us to fight and to kill and not understand what he was really doing. In the end, I decided it didn't matter. I agreed with his decision, but I would not let him pretend there was no cost. I couldn't do that.
I stood. The air was colder now, the breeze blowing stronger, and goose bumps appeared on my bare arms. "Tomorrow, we'll tell the others that we talked, that we couldn't find a better answer than to split up, that there was no way around it. We'll build more camo cover and look for safe places where the attack team can live very close to the landing spot. We'll do everything we can to explain why the change is necessary, but even if not everyone is happy, we'll do it."
"Tomorrow," he said, nodding his head again.
"And when we're settled there and one day the shuttle lands," I said, "we—
"—fight the guards and do what we have to do to take that ship," he said. "Maybe we have to kill the guards. Maybe some of us die. We do what we must to get off this i
sland, and as soon as we can, we come back to rescue the others. Until we do, they'll have to cope without us." His voice was clear now, strong and far colder than the night. "Thank you for making me understand clearly what this will mean. If I'm to lead you, I have to accept that reality. I have to."
I stared at him for a long time. As I did, the anger flowed out of me like the sea receding from the shore. "I wish—" I said.
"Don't," he said. "Don't. You were right." He pushed off the ground and turned his cart. "Let's go back to the cave and get some sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow."
I let him lead the way, fell in behind him even though I could easily have walked around him and gotten there quicker, stayed with him until we passed out of the starlight and into the cave that already felt like a place where I no longer belonged.
Chapter 34
In the former rebel complex, planet Tumani
My comm directed me to a location right next to the first barracks my team had captured, but I didn't head there right away. Instead, I invested some time walking the entire perimeter of the complex and getting a sense of what was going on. Four large active-surface domes stood in the corners of the enclosed fortress; Lim's people must have erected them while I'd been sleeping. Only dying slivers of sunlight remained to fight the evening's oncoming darkness, so the structures had shifted to near transparency. Multiple arches offered easy access to the large tables of food stretching down the middle of each one. No part of any dome was closer than ten meters to the complex's outer wall; Lim wasn't providing anyone with a convenient springboard for climbing out of there.
Guards lounged near the entrances to the eating areas. If they were carrying weapons, I didn't spot them, and they dressed casually; no one wore a uniform, though each had a name patch over his or her heart. Even without the names on their chests, the guards would have stood out from the boys by their size, the quality of their clothing, and how well fed and healthy they looked. If I'd been one of the kids, I would have found these captors more annoying for their apparent wealth than my previous rebel masters, who at least looked more like them than Lim's team. This was going to be an uphill battle all the way.
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