Didi and the Gunslinger

by Larsen, Patti

  He coughs softly, an apology in that sound, tears running from the corners of his eyes and through the wrinkled folds of his skin, into his wispy hair. He tries to touch her, but his hands just flutter.

  “He’s suffered a great deal of internal damage.” The gunslinger’s soft voice is an intrusion. Like she doesn’t know already Putter is near death. “I’m sorry, there is nothing we can do.”

  She doesn’t have anything to give the old man to ease his pain. All she can do is stroke his forehead with her fingertips as her own tears splash down on his cheek.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers around a knot in her throat that threatens to cut off her air.

  “Didi.” Putter sighs out her name, fingers fluttering. She bends forward to hear his whisper as his lips open, close, open again. When she does, his hand finally manages to move, to grasp her hair and pull her closer. “Pocket.”

  She looks down at him as his fingers fall away, a long, low exhale leaving him. What about his pocket? What is he talking about? There’s a horrible hesitation in her as Putter’s chest rises for the last time, the rattle in the back of his throat exiting with whatever kept him animate. She sees it as he dies, watches life leave him, the spark that was Putter no longer inside him.

  In that instant, he’s gone, just gone, a bag of meat and bone and blood. And yet, she can’t bring herself to let him go just yet.

  Pip lands on Putter’s body, head down, cyborg eye whirling. “I’m sorry, Didi.”

  She shrugs, wipes at her face. “He said something about his pocket.” As if it matters. But, it mattered to him, so she has to make the effort.

  Pip’s beak taps at the old man’s chest, inside his thin, woven vest. Something metal rings back. Didi’s fingers explore, digging out the metal box, gripping it in the palm of her hand. She gently settles Putter’s head on the ground, backing away, turning to face the crater that was his home, the edges of the box cutting into her skin as she squeezes it.

  If they killed him to get to her, she will make sure they die. But, as she looks down at the box in her hand, she can’t help but wonder. Especially when she slides her thumb over the small scanner on the front, activating the lock. Keyed to her DNA.

  Didi stares down at the small, golden chip nestled in a bed of foam. And knows then they killed Putter for something much greater than her. They killed him for this. And will do the same to her if they catch her.

  She knows her father’s work, is amazed at the delicate design. His finest creation. But, what does it do? A fission chip. She closes the box, heart pounding. Her father created a fission chip. It has to be more than that, have a greater purpose. But knowing her dad was capable of this…

  Had she underestimated her own father all this time?

  She tucks it into her bag, then thinks better of it. As she turns back to the gunslinger and Pip, she hides it in the folds of her skirt, against her skin, in the small pocket that houses the controls for her protections. If the Underlord wants it, he’ll have to either give up her father or kill her for it.

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen

  Didi heads for the nearest rail depot on foot, forgetting in her determination she has a quicker way to go. But, when the gunslinger fails to offer a ride even after her mind tells her he could carry her, she spins to find he’s not followed.

  Instead, he watches her from twenty feet away, immobile and quiet.

  “What?” They have to get out of here, if only to escape the stench of decay and the crisped flesh of Putter’s fallen body.

  “What does the chip do, Didi?” He watches her with those glowing blue eye slits, making her uncomfortable.

  “I don’t know.” And she might not tell him if she did. Not from the way he’s staring at her like that.

  “I see.” He hesitates, though she’s sure this time it’s not his damaged systems working around the issue. “You do realize it could be for a weapon.” He taps his chest with one fist, the metal ringing against metal. She thought she was careful, shielding it from him, but he’s seen more with his enhanced vision than she expected. Not that she purposely hid it from him—or did she? She’s so confused by the fears and doubts running around in her head, Didi feels off balance, like she’s in a dream. “That’s a fission chip, Didi. Like the one powering me.”

  She’s hardly an idiot, is she? “I’m well aware of what it is, G.S.” She turns her back on him, shoulders tight and aching. They really don’t have time to stand around and talk about this. “So?”

  “So.” The gunslinger finally moves, a step toward her that feels like a gentle, careful approach as though he expects her to run away from him. “Until we know what that chip does, we have to be cautious.” The gunslinger’s voice sounds reasonable enough, but she knows there’s authority behind it. “We can’t simply hand it over to the Underlord in exchange for your father.” He pauses as Pip rises to sit on his shoulder, the traitor. Her crow should be with her, not physically supporting the gunslinger’s words. “You must know that already.”

  She shakes her head, backing away that ground he closed between them, hand clutching at the small pouch where she’s secreted the chip. “You obey my orders, G.S.,” she says, trying to keep her voice low and steady but hearing the hiccup of stress in it. “That’s the agreement.”

  “Not if it means handing over power to the Underlords,” the gunslinger says. There’s that reasonable tone again, making her head spin, her chest ache. “The Galactic Conjunction authorities must be allowed an opportunity to examine it. Surely you understand the risks, Didi. The Underlords were powerful when I was functioning. I can only imagine their authority has grown over the last half century.” His voice quavers then settles. “I must be malfunctioning,” he mutters, “to be able to speak so. But, that doesn’t make it any less true.”

  She can’t argue with him. She has no grounds for debate. But, she does have the chip in her possession and her father is her only priority. Since when did the Galactic Conjunction give a fairy’s fart for Didi Duke and her father? Why should she return the favor?

  “Didi, be reasonable.” Pip has turned tail feathers for certain. She shouldn’t be surprised, but the hurt his words cause make her inhale with a painful breath. “Your father hid this chip with Putter for a reason. Even he didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands.” She doesn’t want to listen as the crow goes on, because there’s a deeper, more agonizing thread to this conversation. The fact her own father didn’t trust her with what he was doing, didn’t tell her about the chip or his association with Putter.

  He trusted that old man over her. And that fact is killing her slowly.

  “I don’t care about the stupid Galactic Conjunction,” Didi says, words hot, searing her throat on the way out. “I don’t care about right or wrong or either of you or your blikey opinions. All I care about,” she stabs the air between herself and the gunslinger and her traitor of a cyborg crow, “is finding and rescuing my father.” And to the depths of the trash with these two if they get in her way. “I’m taking this chip to the Underlord and I’m getting Dad back. You two can do whatever you want. But don’t even think about getting in my way.”

  The gunslinger moves so fast she’s in shock. His silver body blurs as he crosses the distance between them, suddenly standing between her and the path she’s on, the path leading out from the carnage of Putter’s former life. He doesn’t touch her, but his bulk blocks her way.

  “Didi,” he says, soft and low, kind but sad. “I can’t let you do that.”

  Fury rages inside her, but she stands there, shaking and impotent, knowing he’s stronger, he’s faster and she’s in trouble. “You’d rather go to the same authorities who decommed you and your kind and left you to rot on a trash planet instead of giving you the humane burial you were promised?” She pokes his chest with her finger, needing some physical outlet for her anger, tingling pain running up her hand as she hits him harder than she thought. “Is that it, gunslinger? You want to trust tho
se who can’t even protect their own from corruption and lies and treat you like rugging garbage?”

  He doesn’t comment, just stands there, an immobile mountain of plastanium.

  “How dare you betray me after I saved your blarging life.” Spit flies from her lips, her trembling uncontrollable now. She wishes she was stronger, shakes with her need to push him out of her way. She’s never felt so helpless, not even when Jackus attacked her or when the trash rats had her in their lair. This helplessness comes from knowing she can act, knowing she has what she needs to save Dad, only to find the tool she raised to help her stands in her way.

  Pip was right. She should have left the gunslinger to rot with his fellows and just done this herself.

  “I believe,” the stupid bird quips, his arrogance making her teeth grind painfully together, “he returned that favor, Didi. Listen to him.”

  She’ll take him apart when she gets her hands on Pip, revert him to the pile of crushed bones and dying corbie he was and just see if she doesn’t. He must sense her thoughts because he squawks and ducks his head behind the gunslinger, shivering.

  “I’ll shut the both of you down.” It’s an empty threat, at least to the giant cyborg in front of her. He’s too fast, she’d never beat him to the panel in his chest.

  “A compromise.” The gunslinger holds out his hand. “I promise you, Didi, no matter what it takes, I will rescue your father or die trying. But, only if you agree to hand over the chip to the authorities.”

  She wavers, can’t help herself. She’s so tired suddenly. This has been a massive blow to her existence, to the life she’s found so comfortable and, for a brief moment, she sags inside herself. It would be easy to hand the chip over to the gunslinger, to let him do what he says he’ll do. She has no doubt he’s telling her the truth. He can’t lie to her, at least as far as she knows. Though, he’s damaged, isn’t he? Maybe that’s not true anymore. But, she can’t help but trust him, to believe the words he’s said. His sincerity is too palpable, a living thing pulsing between them.

  He will end his own life to save her father. How much more can she ask for?

  “Just trust him, Didi.” Pip’s voice is as soft as the gunslinger’s. As caring. “Please. You know Tarvis would want you to be safe. And, he hid this chip for a reason. Even your dad doesn’t want the Underlord to have it.”

  There is that. And, it’s the final truth that wins over Didi’s heart and mind.

  Not that she’s happy about it. She crosses her arms over her chest and shrugs, looking away toward where she knows the mag line crosses the trash. “I’ll agree,” she says. “But we get Dad first. Then we turn the chip over. Just to be safe.”

  The gunslinger nods slowly. “Unless we encounter an opportunity to recruit the aid of the Conjunction.”

  He had to suggest it. “Fine.” She pushes past him at last and he lets her, pivoting his body so she can keep going up the path. It irritates her to no end he has so much power over her.

  ***

  He follows her on heavy feet, though his body is as light and powerful as ever. His programming overwrites so much of his humanity, but that damaged part of his brain he’s allowing to function seems stronger than the subroutines his creators put in place to control him. It’s a dichotomy he’s unused to, and only makes the phantom image of the laughing girl all the more real.

  There are moments he pauses and feels her there, as though he could reach out and touch her. Has had to hold himself still to keep his arm from rising to do so. He is uncertain if the girl Didi has noticed his lapses, but they are growing more frequent and the gunslinger wonders if he will remain functional long enough to save her father after all.

  He must try. And complete his mission before his countdown ends in thirteen hours and he self-destructs.

  His confused systems almost miss the approach of danger. But, in the end, he is a gunslinger. And his instincts take over even before his cyborg enhancements know he’s moving.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  Didi’s head is down, eyes on her feet as she tries to focus on walking and not thinking. The last of the day’s sunlight is waning, washing over her shoulder in a stunning pattern of color she’s not in the mood to appreciate. A dumpall rumbles overhead, its familiar shadow falling over her and she’s lost in the steady whoosh of the sound of its thrusters when two hands grab her from behind and lift her into the air.

  She doesn’t have time to squeal when the gunslinger heaves her into his arms, for a moment terrified his mind has finally snapped and he’s turned into some crazed and uncontrollable menace. But, when she looks over his shoulder and sees the skimmer heading for them, a familiar face in the back seat, Jackus’s arm pointing over the driver’s shoulder, she understands just how valuable this giant, silver hero really is to her.

  She’ll never thank him or let him know how safe she feels in his arms as he carries her away from the threat of Ives Jackus.

  A plasma shot fires overhead, impacting a pile of trash on their right. It teeters and slips, crumbling down in what feels like slow motion as the gunslinger lifts off, taking to the air. Pip shrieks on his shoulder, clinging to the cyborg’s plating and flapping his wings for balance. Didi reaches for the crow and pulls him free, cuddling him against her chest, between her and the gunslinger while the massive cyborg’s thrusters carry them upward.

  Right for the dumpall. Didi turns her head, hiding her face in the gunslinger's shoulder as they skim past the automated ship, the next blast from the skimmer taking the side of the scum-crusted transport in the flank and sending it spinning. The gunslinger’s thrusters fire, carrying them beyond the spinning mass, before he dives for the trash surface and peels past the edge of a mass of decaying organics.

  Didi can’t help but watch, breathless and oddly excited, as the skimmer barely makes it past the dumpall as the autosystems of the trash carrier kick in and right its trajectory. Another blast skips past, exploding the organics they are passing, sending a shower of stinking, clinging mess over them.

  The gunslinger doesn’t pause or seem to notice, acrobatic flying taking her breath away. He pulls to a halt on the far side of a trash heap and tosses her to one hip, his hand flashing to his side while she clings to him, her crow in her arms, and waits. The skimmer flies past, his gun already aimed and ready.

  The plasma charge hits the back of the skimmer, taking out one of the thrusters, but with the unfortunate side effect of spinning it around to face them. Jackus might look terrified, but the two bulky men in the front seat of the skimmer seem ready and, with one thruster functioning, gun it right toward them.

  The damaged skimmer wobbles, but picks up speed. Didi has no doubt if both thrusters were functioning they would be dead, gunslinger or no gunslinger. But, the added few seconds the damage allows gives the cyborg time to target the front of the skimmer and blast it. Again the skimmer spins, toward the healthy thruster, the pilot unable to control the turn. It’s almost hysterical, really, seeing their faces turn, their eyes following even as their bodies are forced around inside the damaged skimmer. Didi feels a giggle of absolute horror and delight rise in her chest and has to clamp her lips together to keep it from escaping as the absurd moment unwinds.

  He’s fast, the gunslinger. What has felt like a half hour’s worth of battle has been mere seconds, if that long, and he’s firing again, sending the second thruster into failure. It would be over, they would have won, she’s certain, if it weren’t for the hum of a second skimmer approaching from the distance.

  They have backup. Didi taps on the gunslinger’s shoulder, but he’s already aware, leaving the fatally damaged skimmer to sink to the trash while plasma bursts from the stolen weapons fire toward them. He pushes hard, the air rushing past her, pulling at her lips and cheeks until Didi feels crushing pressure on her chest, making it hard to breathe. But, the speed allows them distance, pushes them toward the now visible mag train, leaving the following skimmer far behind.

&nbs
p; The gunslinger pivots in midair, making her scream in fear, though his arm never wavers and she’s certain it would take his death before he would drop her. She’s clutching Pip so tight he wheezes, the faint sound audible now the gunslinger has slowed his pace and Didi forces herself to release her painful grip on the corbie.

  A depot squats ahead, a train at standstill in station. Their luck has turned at last. The gunslinger’s thrusters die off as he sinks to the ground, legs churning until he literally hits the ground running. Didi feels the tingle of the mag train firing up, knows they only have seconds before the perimeter of power fries them. Panic surges, equally met with excitement, as the gunslinger throws his giant form at the edge of one of the train cars and lands them with a thud on the surface. The barest fizz of electricity raises the hairs on her neck and arms and they are safe at last.

  He sets her down on a pile of trash, looking back over his shoulder. “Perhaps we should make ourselves invisible to the air,” he says as if they haven’t just been in a major battle and he didn’t pull a giant hero act right in front of her.

  “Good idea,” she says, mimicking his tone exactly. Because it’s all in a day’s work and really, why else did she resurrect his shiny, silver behind?

  She grins. Didi can’t help it. And sinks on shaking legs to the garbage while Pip whistles and shudders for his freedom.

  She’ll let him go eventually. She just needs someone to hold onto right now. The gunslinger sinks to his haunches and begins to create a shelter from the trash as the sun sets in the west and she wonders if this might work out after all while she slowly, firmly strokes the feathers of her crow.

  ***

  The gunslinger sits next to her sleeping form, the crow still cuddled against her, tiny snores escaping the creature’s black beak. She looks so innocent and young lying there and fear—something he’s been programmed not to feel—emerges for the first time since he became what he is.