“Do it!”
A second later, the bike jerked beneath him and the roar of the engines grew deafening. Waves of scorching heat billowed out from the front hover engine, and Nolan growled as the bike’s burn trail singed his clothing. The air-cooling systems couldn’t dissipate the engines’ heat enough to prevent it from overheating at this high output. If he kept this up too long, he knew, his pants would catch on fire, and the flesh of his legs would blister and shrivel. And that was before the engines reached critical and explosion-inducing temperatures.
For once, he found himself grateful that he couldn’t feel anything below his waist—otherwise, his nerve endings would be sending screaming waves of pain into his brain. The thought of what would happen when the vehicle between his legs overheated sent a shiver of panic down his spine. He had to rely on Taia to keep him alive long enough to get the medication back to Bex.
The skimmer bike whipped around a corner, narrowly missing a wheeled vehicle driving in the opposite direction. A furious honking of horns pursued him as he wove through oncoming traffic. The slower-moving wheeled vehicles and sleek skimmer craft blinded him with their headlights, and the fumes rose so thick around him that he could barely breathe. Smoke leaking from exhaust pipes hung in a haze over the streets of Grove District. Only the fact that Taia had eyes all around him—CCTV cameras, comm feeds, likely even the dash cams of the vehicles he passed—kept the bike on its relentless, terrifying course toward Shimmertown.
Then, through a gap in Grove District buildings, Nolan saw it: the pink, red, yellow, and white neon lights of Shimmertown. The district came alive at night, a heady mix of brilliant illumination, driving music that echoed from every open door, brightly dressed men and women clad in flashing clothes, and the myriad smells of the bars and clubs along Glitter Trail. This was how both the neighborhood and street had earned their names. Shimmertown was a shimmering paradise that sparkled so bright the stars overhead disappeared into darkness.
But to Nolan, Shimmertown meant home. And hope for Bex.
At that moment, a wheeled vehicle pulled out of a side street not ten meters in front of Nolan. He had no time to react; only Taia’s instantaneous control of his skimmer bike saved his life. He skidded around the wheeled vehicle, so close his leg slammed into its front bumper. The steel smart framework flowed around his leg to shield it from the impact, but the jarring force snapped Nolan’s neck painfully to the side.
“Watch it, asshole!” An angry shout followed Nolan down the street.
But one pissed-off driver was far from his only problem. The heat emanating from the bike’s front hover engine had increased, leaking blistering waves that washed over Nolan’s chest and face, scorching his skin. The smell of burning cloth drifted up and a hint of panic clawed into his mind as he caught sight of flames licking at the hems of his pants.
“Engine condition critical,” Taia told him. “Temperature controls operating at 150% recommended output and dangerously close to failing.”
“Just a few more seconds!” Nolan shouted. He gritted his teeth and clung to the overheating skimmer bike, zipping through the oncoming traffic, racing toward the flashing, glitzy lights of Shimmertown at full speed.
Hope blossomed within him as he caught sight of the intersection where Bastien sat during the day. “Sharp left!” he called to Taia. “To the alley behind the building next to the Spacer’s Paradise.”
Even in his hurry, he wouldn’t sacrifice operational safety. Without his helmet, he couldn’t risk anyone seeing him. Nor could he take the chance that prying eyes would spot him going in via his secret rooftop entrance.
The bike juddered violently as it whipped around the corner, and Nolan felt the heat rising to dangerous levels. The steel frame around the front hover engine was turning red-hot and bits of thermoplastic were melting away.
But it just needed to hold together a few more seconds. Just long enough to zip between oncoming cars, dive into the alley, and race a few dozen meters before coming to a spine-jarring halt. The moment Taia removed her smart fibers from the sizzling, hissing bike’s ignition, Nolan leaped off and sprinted toward the nearby fire escape that ascended the rear of the six-story building.
“How long, Taia?”
“Two minutes, twenty-six seconds.” Urgency echoed in the AI’s voice. “Hurry, Nolan. Her heart can’t handle this much longer.”
“Then get me up there, now!” Nolan yelled. “How high can this thing jump?”
“Get ready to find out.”
The next second, Nolan’s AI-controlled legs leaped high into the air. Propelled by all the force of the smart steel fibers and the last of the energy drained from the skimmer bike’s engine, he flew ten meters into the air, landing with a deafening clang on the third-story level of the fire escape. His hands locked onto the railing and his face slammed into the bars, but the rush of adrenaline drowned out the pain.
He was ready the moment Taia leaped again, using his hands to push off the fire escape railing. He sailed high into the air, over the low wall surrounding the rooftop, and landed hard on spongy bitumen roofing materials. Rolling to absorb the impact on his spine and neck, he came to his feet and took off at a mad dash toward the far edge of the rooftop.
Toward the building topped by the glaring neon sign.
Nolan had never been so relieved to see the hideous cloud-or-snot-looking animated character. Hope surged within him as Taia vaulted the alley separating him from his own rooftop. He would make it in time. He had to.
The AI opened the steel hatch as Nolan charged between the two billboards, and he dropped feet-first into the vertical shaft, not bothering with the rungs. The four-story drop sent a shuddering wave of pain racing up his spine and pinched muscles in his neck, but the smart steel framework absorbed most of the jolt. Enough, at least, that he could stagger onward, ignoring the pain in his back, and dodge the trip wires and traps that guarded the secret tunnels.
That cost him precious seconds. Frustration rose within him; he had to move faster, had to get to Bex before the seizures damaged her brain, but he also had to avoid the booby traps he’d set. It seemed to take forever before he caught sight of the red light glowing on the lock to his workshop door. The time it took Taia to unlock the door—the space of two hammering heartbeats—felt like an eternity.
For Bex, it very well could’ve been.
Then the door slid open and the workshop lights winked on. Nolan went charging through the doorway, the workshop, and into the living room beyond.
A horrifying sight greeted him. Bex once again lay on the floor, trapped within the terrible grip of the jerking, writhing spasms. Her eyes had rolled back in their sockets, her face and neck muscles locked and rigid, cheeks and forehead a deep crimson from the involuntary exertion. Blood poured from a hole in her arm left by the IV. The torn-out tube waved in the air above her like the head of some strange metallic serpent, and Taia’s scanner camera seemed to hover, helpless to do anything but watch Bex struggle in the grasp of impending death.
But he wasn’t helpless. Please let me be in time!
Nolan paused only long enough to scoop up the discarded applicator, then spun to race toward the fallen Bex. “Tell me what to do!” Nolan threw himself to his knees next to the spasming woman, his hands moving to tear the shattered Blitz vial from the applicator and insert the ampoule of benzodiazepine in its place.
“Inject it into the meat of her thigh, as close to the vein as you can.”
Nolan hesitated, staring at the wild, uncontrolled movements of her legs and arms. This time, however, he had full use of all his own limbs and proper leverage to wrestle with her flailing left leg, holding it still just long enough to jab the applicator into her leg, just beneath the hem of her mid-thigh skirt. He jammed his finger down on the button and, with a click, the applicator pumped the full dose of medication into her body.
For long seconds, nothing happened. Bex’s convulsions continued, her body jerking so wildly Nolan lost c
ontrol of her flailing leg. A knee slammed into his chest and knocked him backward. He fell, hard, but scrambled back toward the writhing woman.
“Come on, Bex!” he shouted, struggling to hold her down to prevent her from injuring herself. “Fight this!”
He let out a long sigh of relief as the woman’s twitching slowed, the wild movements of her arms and legs fading. The rigid muscles in her neck and face relaxed and the blood drained from her cheeks. A few more spasming twitches shook her body, but slowly her limbs stopped thrashing and she lay still. Covered in sweat, her clothing sodden and her hair disheveled, but resting easy under the effects of the medication.
“Check to make sure her airways are clear and she’s breathing,” Taia said.
Nolan did as instructed. Bex’s breathing was shallow, but seemed to grow stronger with every second.
“Now turn her,” Taia said. “Left lateral recumbent position.”
Nolan scowled into the air. “Which means what, exactly?”
“Left side, arm under her head.” The AI’s tone stopped just short of snippy. “To keep her from drowning should she vomit.”
Again, Nolan followed Taia’s orders. Once he’d situated Bex in the right position, he took her pulse. Her heart had begun to slow its accelerated beating, returning to what felt like a near-normal rhythm. Relieved, Nolan slumped against the couch and let out a long, ragged breath, exhaustion washing over him.
“That was too damned close!”
“Agreed.” Taia’s IV tube snaked down once more and embedded itself into Bex’s arm. The woman didn’t so much as stir. “But her heart seems not to have suffered any permanent damage from this seizure, and scans of her internal organs indicate that the Heavy Detox is working to flush the last of the Blitz from her system. Which, I believe, is the reason she began seizing in the first place. The absence of the substance her body had depended on for so long caused the problem. Given her current condition, I calculate the risk of her having another similar episode to be 6.5%.”
“That’s good, right?” Nolan asked. “She’s got a good chance of getting through this?”
“Yes,” Taia said. “Though I cannot be certain what sort of damage this seizure has done to her brain. We will not know until she wakes up.”
“How soon will that be?”
Taia remained silent a long moment before answering. “Uncertain.”
Nolan stared down at the Silverguard lying unconscious and still on his living room floor. She still appeared so gaunt and frail, so far from the proud, strong, elite soldier she’d doubtless been during her military days. Yet he had to hope the same strength that had gotten her through IAF basic training and the more rigorous Silverguard regimen would carry her through this, too.
What came after—what condition she’d be in once she awoke—he’d deal with that later. All that mattered was that she had survived. As long as she lived, she had a chance.
Nolan rose and, though it took every shred of his remaining energy, lifted Bex onto the couch. The woman stirred slightly but didn’t wake, didn’t so much as moan. It seemed the seizure had taken as much out of her as his recent encounters with the White Sharks and his desperate race to save her life had drained from him.
He went to his fridge, pulled out a power bar, and wolfed it down in three bites. Two more followed in quick succession, along with a liter of purified water and a half-full container of the takeout Taia always ordered to provide a cover story for why he rarely emerged from his apartment. He hadn’t felt so exhausted, so utterly sapped of strength, in a long time.
That was the downside of his Reinforcement Protocol armor—it drained the electrical energy generated by his body. Excessive use could render him motionless.
His brow furrowed. Speaking of which, how come I’m still standing? He’d never used the armor for more than five or ten minutes before without feeling far more exhausted than he did now. There was only one explanation that made any kind of sense. “Taia, did you siphon energy from the hoverbike to power the suit?”
“I did,” the AI replied. “Just enough to keep the suit functioning without electrocuting you.”
Nolan’s eyebrows rose. “Damn, Taia, aren’t you full of surprises?” A few years ago, when the AI chip had first been implanted in his brain—before she’d developed a proper personality and he’d begun to think of Taia as a “her” and not an “it”—she would never have come up with something like that. Her programming had been far more rigid. Yet even with all her upgrades over the year, this was a new level of adaptability.
“I learned it from watching you,” Taia replied. “What was it the Old Terran Marines used to say? ‘Semper Gumby,’ right?”
Nolan’s eyebrows shot up at the familiar phrase—the words of his old enemies, the Terran League Jackboots, yet a motto that had been the Silverguard’s modus operandi.
“I’ve seen you adapt and improvise to get out of impossible situations,” Taia continued. “So I’ve collected data by watching you, what you do at times like this, and used it to craft an algorithm that will enable me to find or create connections between seemingly random objects. Like the way you came up with a wheelchair that can be turned into a suit of armor.”
“Wait.” Nolan felt a little jolt of surprise. “Are you telling me you’re writing an algorithm that simulates human imagination?”
“That is the intention, yes.” Taia’s robotic voice was so matter-of-fact that it only added to Nolan’s amazement. “I’ll admit I am still far from optimal results, but—“
“I’d say that was pretty damned optimal, Taia.” Nolan shook his head, incredulous. “Soon enough, all you’ll need is a proper body and you’ll be more human than I’d ever thought possible.”
“Thank you, Nolan.”
“No, Taia, thank you.” A wave of profound gratitude—or mingled exhaustion and relief that felt like gratitude—washed over Nolan. “For everything. For helping me save Bex’s life, for saving my ass over and over again. For…” He swallowed a sudden surge of emotion. “For helping me to walk again. I never thought I would, but thanks to you, I’m on my feet.”
Those few moments when Taia had been shorted out by the electricity from the stun baton had given him a newfound appreciation for just how much he valued what she did for him—not just enabling him to walk, but for everything.
“And most of all, for what you said back there when I was chasing Wolfe.” Nolan found the words difficult, and not only because he was talking to an AI he couldn’t see. He’d never been good expressing his feelings, ever. It might have been the adrenaline rush wearing off post-battle or simply sheer exhaustion, but he found he wanted to put the emotion into words. “Some of the things I’ve done—the things I’ve had to do for the Silverguard, or as Cerberus—I’ve had to lock away my humanity just so I could pull the trigger. But you gave me a reminder to unlock it again, to remember why I’m doing what I’m doing. So thank you for that, Taia.”
Silence met his words. Long seconds passed, and no answer came.
“Taia?” Nolan ventured. “You there?”
“I am, Nolan.” The AI’s voice was almost subdued. “It is simply…” Her voice trailed off again for a moment. “My programming gives me no indication as to how to respond to your words.”
Nolan smiled. “Human friends say, ‘you’re welcome’ or something like that.”
“Then thank you,” Taia replied. “Does this mean we are friends, Nolan?”
Nolan’s grin turned into a laugh. “Of course we’re friends, Taia! When you live with someone for as long as we have, it’s either as friends or a married couple. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to commit to anyone just yet.”
“I don’t understand,” Taia said. “Are you proposing some sort of marital—“
“No, no!” Nolan’s laughter doubled. After everything he’d just been through, it felt damned good to laugh. “Forget about that for now, Taia. Let’s focus on finishing what we started. How’s my armor
?”
Taia hesitated a heartbeat before speaking. “The boot thrusters have been replaced and the upgrade to your damaged chestplate is complete. My previous calculations of 15.4% increase in efficiency are incorrect. I estimate your armor will be 18.3% more efficient now with the carbon nanofiber filaments I have added.”
Nolan grinned as he strode toward the workshop. “Once again, you’ve exceeded expectations.”
“This armor, however, will not,” Taia said. A compartment in the wall opened, lights flickered on, and the stand bearing the repaired combat suit emerged. “I still recommend you take precautions to avoid heavy-arms fire as much as possible.”
“Which, given what Wolfe and his goons are packing, might be easier said than done.” Nolan studied the suit. “Hope for the best and prepare for the worst, right?”
“Last time you said that, you ended up with a bullet in your leg and two in your side.”
Nolan grimaced. “Yeah, the Kamphus job went sideways in a way neither of us could have anticipated. But we’ve gotten wiser since then, right?”
“I’d call attention to your actions this evening and question your use of the word ‘wise’ in this context.”
Nolan’s eyebrows rose. “Taia, that sounded dangerously close to sarcastic.”
“Thank you, Nolan, I have been practicing.”
Nolan barked a laugh, a genuine smile touching his lips. The AI was a constant source of both amazement and amusement.
“Oh dear.” The screen on the wall of Nolan’s workshop winked on, and an image of the city appeared there. “It seems Wolfe has finally reached his destination.”
The single blinking red dot visible on the black-and-blue grid had to be Wolfe’s car.
“Where is he?” Nolan asked, trying to swallow his growing worry. “What’s so ‘uh oh’ about wherever he’s hiding?”
“It’s not the where that’s the problem,” Taia said, “but the what.”
Video footage from a CCTV camera appeared on the screen, showing Wolfe’s skimmer car parked outside a hangar somewhere in the Iceglades, in the far northeast of New Avalon. But, as Taia had said, his location wasn’t what set a flood of concern humming through Nolan’s gut.
Assassination Protocol: An Intergalactic Space Opera Adventure (Cerberus Book 1) Page 21