Heretic: Archangel Project. Book Three

by C. Gockel

  With a huff of frustration as confounding as the sigh, he approached the armory, slipped in, and found no one had disposed of the ancient stunner Noa had said should be gotten rid of. He grabbed it, pulled it to himself, lifted his shirt with his shaking left hand, and just happened to glance up at the lens of the camera Ghost had installed. James might be able to change the feedback loop … or Ghost could be watching right now and notice as soon as the feed changed. Glaring up at the camera eye, he dropped his shirt, and headed to the door and the ladder access tunnel.

  A few minutes later, he was fully charged and drooling obscenely as he slipped out of the tunnel at the medbay level. He nearly ran into 6T9 pushing Eliza in the holo chair.

  “Good morning, James,” said Eliza, giving him a wry smile. “You're here bright and early.”

  Was it his imagination, or did she look more alert?

  6T9 beamed at him. “Early to bed, early to rise, gives a man healthy, sexy, strong thighs.”

  James felt the pleasant sensation of a mental reboot, and he raised an eyebrow at the 'bot.

  “Well, I like that version of the idiom better,” Eliza said with a wink.

  6T9's eyes widened and he looked between the two of them. “That isn't how it goes, is it?” He put his hand to his mouth. “I think I may have just had a Freudian blip.”

  James's mind sparked. He would have laughed but couldn't.

  “Come to see Oliver?” James asked Eliza.

  She frowned. “No, here for another nano flush. This isn't the best time to be experiencing my second childhood. Bother. I rather like being dazed, confused, and unaware.”

  James walked with them down the hall. “I can see why that might be more fun,” he said. He'd rather not know he wasn't human. He'd rather not think about what would happen if the time gate was repaired.

  He thought of the Rambler, the cargo tramp. Word was out that they were here, that James was here. The Luddecceans had been willing to follow them to Atlantia. Would they follow them to the cloud? It had felt like a month's travel aboard the Ark at lightspeed to reach the cloud—but that was two months of Luddeccean time due to the lightspeed time paradox. The time paradox was on their side again. A lightspeed transmission would take two months their time to reach Luddeccea, and any expedition they sent would take two more months to arrive. They had four months to try to put the gate together and if that failed, put the Ark back together and head to Time Gate 7. It would take three point five years. For a moment his mind surged with electricity at the thought. He could be with Noa for three point five years—a reprieve before his eventual conviction! A white light flashed behind his eyes, and his left hand trembled. But they wouldn't have rations for that. Not with the various delays they'd had since leaving Luddeccea, the rations they'd paid at Adam's Station, the arrival of the Atlantians and the families aboard the ticks, and the time they'd spend here trying to repair the gate. He'd have three years with Noa, and then he'd slowly watch Noa die along with everyone else. He felt the dark app at the back of his mind whisper, “And then she'll know you are not human.”

  “Being unaware isn't fun,” said 6T9 as the door to the medbay whooshed open. Frowning, the 'bot shook his head. “It's like they say, ignorance is this.”

  James looked up and saw Noa standing next to Raif, still on the bed by the door. He was sitting up, and fully dressed, Carl Sagan on his lap. One of the medics from the Atlantian Guard was running a scanner over his body. Noa draped a hand on one of the boy’s bony shoulders.

  Ghost and Monica were at the other end of the medbay. They all looked up as 6T9, Eliza, and James entered. Oliver still lay on the bed. He appeared to be awake, and James could see his eyes blinking slowly. He was sucking on his prosthetic hand, his usual energy gone. Manuel was sitting next to his son, running his hands through the boy's hair, not paying attention to anyone.

  Eliza touched 6T9's hand and looked back at him. “Someday, my love … someday, there will be a processor that will give you powers of thought even more powerful than a human, and I'll make sure you have it.” James noticed Monica's eyes dart to the old woman, and narrow. The doctor huffed. Over the ether, Eliza said to Noa, “If you get out of this, it's part of my will. You want an inheritance, you keep 6T9 and update his processor!”

  Noa stepped away from Raif. “Auntie,” she protested privately into the ether. “If I get out of this, you're getting out of this, too.”

  James looked down at the old woman. Her mind was sharper this morning, but her eyes were still filmy, and she hadn't needed the chair when they were on Luddeccea. He felt the rush of understanding. She was preparing Noa for her death … she didn't expect to make it to Earth.

  Eliza scowled and picked at the armrest of the holo chair. 6T9 put his hand on top of hers. “I look forward to that day, and being your true companion in every way.” He kissed the top of her head and Eliza squeezed his hand. She didn't protest 6T9's pronouncement, or Noa's protestation—to protect them from the truth as long as possible?

  “Can we return to the topic of discussion?” Ghost snapped. “You were saying that Oliver needs a part, Doctor.” He glared at Eliza. “Before we were interrupted.”

  “Yes.” Monica waved distractedly. “Ms. Burton, one of the medics will take care of you.”

  “You're free to go,” said the medic beside Raif. Noa patted his shoulder and said, “Remember, you’re crew, you’re family.”

  “Come on, Carl Sagan. Let's get something to eat,” Raif said to the werfle. The creature scrambled up to the boy's shoulders. Over the ether, Raif said, “Hi, James,” and smiled tentatively. And then the smile dropped. “Let me know if Oliver is all right.”

  “Sure,” said James, reaching out and ruffling Raif's hair as his father had done when he was a kid. Or the real James's father had done. It seemed to work the same way it had worked on the other James. Raif visibly relaxed.

  As soon as the boy left, Monica rubbed her eyes and said, “Oliver's heart does need to be replaced, but not just his heart. There is a problem with a pulse regulator in the vagus interface.” She held up her hand to one of the Ark's ancient two-dimensional read-out screens. “The vagus nerve is responsible for slowing the heartbeat. Because neural integration is the most sensitive part of augmentation, and because children need multiple operations as their bodies grow, the vagus and sympathetic nerves have synth hookups that allow outgrown hearts to essentially be 'unplugged' and the new ones to be 'plugged in.' But the pulse regulator in the vagus nerve port has been damaged and needs to be replaced.” Dropping her hand, she said to Ghost, “Oliver's vagal port requires a VT1X pulse regulator … pulse regulators aren't terribly different than surge protectors on very delicate electrical equipment … in fact, they're often used in cyborgs for that purpose, and—”

  James felt the buzz of static in his skull, and heard the dark app snicker.

  “Indeed,” said 6T9, where he stood by Eliza. “I have that very pulse regulator for my main processor.”

  I bet you have that regulator, too, the dark app whispered to James.

  Noa, Monica, Manuel, Ghost, and Eliza, all turned to the 'bot.

  James's left hand trembled at his side, and he snapped his hands together behind his back to hide it.

  Staring at the 'bot, Monica whispered, “I was hoping that you could fabricate one for me, Ghost, but maybe that won't be necessary.”

  James's eyes slid to the humans. Their gazes had left the 'bot and slid to Eliza. The old woman was looking down, closing her eyes. “Of course, you can use 6T9's regulator,” she said. Over the ether, she screamed at Monica, “I saw the way you looked at me. Do you think that I don't know the difference between a 'bot and a little boy?”

  Monica rolled back on her feet.

  6T9 tilted his head. “Of course he can have my regulator.”

  “Auntie ...” said Noa, taking a step forward.

  “Commander,” said 6T9. “I am designed to shut down when my pulse regulator is removed. I am concern
ed for Eliza's care if I am incapacitated.”

  Eliza patted his hand. “Noa will take good care of me, 6T9. Don't worry.”

  6T9 smiled down at her. “If you order me not to worry, I cannot.”

  “We'll all take care of her,” Monica said, her voice defensive.

  Ghost sniffed derisively.

  “We need to get started right away,” Monica said, striding toward 6T9.

  “Stop!” said Eliza, putting her hands on her armrests and pushing herself up on shaking arms. “I want him to sit in my chair so I can take him home later.”

  “Pffft …We’ll be using him for scrap within the week. You should give him to me,” Ghost said, coming forward, eyes glinting greedily. James remembered the 'bots piled like logs in Ghost's lair on Luddeccea. There would be nothing left to put a new processor in when Ghost got done with 6T9.

  “No!” cried Eliza.

  Noa stepped between the programmer and Eliza. “Just the regulator, Ghost.”

  Unconcerned with the conversation, 6T9 put a hand underneath Eliza’s arm and helped her up.

  Monica took a step closer.

  “You don’t need his parts now, Ghost,” Noa said.

  Ghost huffed and said, “But I will … either to fix the computer on the gate or to get us to System Seven.”

  “My parts are always available for the preservation of human life,” 6T9 said, blinking between the humans and James as he settled into the chair. Eliza was visibly shaking.

  “We’ll cross the bridge if and when we come to it,” said Noa, her voice threatening, and James remembered how she'd been disquieted even more than he had by Ghost's “projects.”

  “Oh, we’ll come to it,” Ghost said to Noa over the ether. He scowled at her. “It’s just a ‘bot.”

  Eliza had bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

  James's fingers tightened around his wrists behind his back. He'd risked his life—or imitation of it—for Oliver. But he couldn't give away his parts for the boy. He couldn't go as bravely into the dark as 6T9.

  Monica took a step closer. “Wait!” said Eliza. She lowered her face to 6T9's level.

  “My love,” said the 'bot. “You must be careful.”

  “I must kiss you,” said Eliza. “Just one last time.”

  Smiling, 6T9 purred, “Well, kiss me you must, but it won't be the last time. I'll be awake again before you know it.”

  Eliza pressed her lips to his. When she drew away, Monica said, “We have to start now.”

  Eyes on Eliza's, 6T9 whispered, “I'll see you when I wake up.”

  Eliza didn’t respond. Her eyes glistened with tears.

  6T9 smiled at her. “I'm shutting down now. Goodnight.”

  His smile faded, there was a hum, and then his head slumped forward, eyes still open.

  Stepping forward again, Ghost said, “It will only take me a minute.”

  Noa went and took Eliza by the arm. James's eyes went to Ghost as he worked a panel loose behind 6T9's head. The 'bot's eyes were already drying. Eliza was weeping. Ghost released another latch within the 'bot's head, and then said, “I've almost got it.” He slipped something into his pocket.

  James felt as though invisible bonds were released. “Only the pulse regulator, Ghost,” James whispered.

  Ghost met his eyes, shrugged, and put back whatever he'd slipped into his pocket. A moment later, he produced a small circular piece of white plastic not larger than the tip of James's little finger. He had more than a regulator in his system, he could feel it somehow. Some of them had to be non-vital systems, and yet he didn't think he could have offered it.

  “Here it is,” said Ghost, handing it to the doctor.

  “Thank you,” said Monica. “I need to sterilize it and prep this room for surgery. You all need to leave.” She waved a hand at Manuel. “You may stay here a bit to keep Oliver calm.”

  “Thank you,” said Manuel, but Monica was already walking toward Eliza, Noa, Ghost, and James, her intent obviously to shoo them out.

  “Let me get 6T9!” said Eliza, maneuvering herself to push the chair.

  Monica's lips formed a thin line at Eliza's protest.

  “I'll push him, Auntie,” Noa said. “Let James help you.”

  James put out his right arm and took Eliza's in his as gently as he could. He swore her bones felt as light as a bird's. Across the ether, Noa whispered, “Thanks.”

  “It's nothing,” James replied. Not compared to what 6T9 had sacrificed. He looked down at Eliza. Tears were still slipping from her eyes. Or compared to what Eliza had sacrificed.

  The door shut behind Noa's heels and she seethed across the ether over James's channel. “Did you see how quickly Monica set on 6T9? She was like a vulture. She’s such a … a … fundamentalist!”

  Beside her, James raised an eyebrow at her terminology. Noa's own eyes widened, realizing what she said was true. “Monica doesn't believe in humans becoming emotionally attached to cyborgs. It's not even logical—Eliza needs 6T9! The mech suits that were so human-like in their interactions had been good for the Fleet and good for their operators! They had to work so long in ether silence often on very lonely missions …” She glanced down at her great-great-something aunt, who was clutching James's right arm and wiping her eyes.

  “So in certain situations, cyborg and human relationships are fine?” James replied over the ether. There was a touch of acid in his thoughts. Noa glanced over at him and noticed that his tattoos were blooming up his neck, as they did when he was angry. They'd done the same thing when Ghost had tried to steal extra parts from 6T9.

  “Yes,” Noa replied over the channel, pushing the chair with 6T9. “Eliza wasn't likely to be able to have a real relationship—”

  “What makes a relationship real?” James thought, his left hand fluttering on Eliza's arm.

  “Equality between the parties involved, for one,” Noa replied as they strode down the hall to the elevator in respectful silence.

  “It's true that 6T9 was basically her slave,” said James, his thoughts unusually bitter. “He couldn't deny her anything …” Noa noticed that the hand of the arm Eliza leaned on had balled into a fist.

  “He has the mind of a child!” Noa thought, scooting the deceptively heavy 'bot in the chair into the lift, and punching the close-door button. Carefully keeping her thoughts in the ether to avoid hurting Eliza's feelings, she said, “Less than a child. Oliver was always outwerfling him!” She blinked, realizing that as an Earther, James might not get the idiom. “Outwerfling is the equivalent of outfoxing—”

  “I'd inferred that,” James responded curtly over the link. “So it's equality of intellect that makes a relationship real?”

  Noa frowned. “There has to be free will involved,” she thought.

  The electrons between them sparked, and she held up a finger. “We're not discussing free will right now.” She lifted her chin. “The other party has to be able to leave,” Noa amended.

  “Would you hit the control?” Noa said, blocked by the chair in the tiny space.

  “Of course,” said James. He lifted his left hand and held it out before him. It trembled like a leaf. Staring down at it, he said, “I'm at your disposal.” Before Noa could say a word, he said aloud, “No, I am not going to see Monica.”

  Eliza, quiet up until his words, sniffed. “I wouldn't see her either, if I didn't have to.”

  He looked down at his hand. “Won't matter when we get to One.”

  Noa frowned. Monica had induced PTSD in James when she'd brought up his clinical death, and she'd been dismissive of Eliza and 6T9's relationship—if you could call it that. “I don't blame either of you. She doesn't have the best bedside manner, does she?” Tipping the chair back to make more space, she reached out a hand to the controls and muttered, “No wonder she was a researcher.” Pulling back to her side of the lift, she grumbled, “And I wouldn't trust Ghost to look at it, either. He'd steal your parts.”

  Eliza inhaled sharply. She rubbed Ja
mes's arm, in a way that was … thoughtful. “Noa's right … stay away from him—he'd pick you apart.”

  James stiffened and didn't say anything more even after they'd dropped off Eliza and returned to the lift. She had an impression of distance between them, though they were only centis apart. She'd thought by now she'd seen the deepest recesses of his mind, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe he'd only seen the deepest recesses of hers.

  He was a civilian … with dangerous augments, true, but still, untrained for any of this. “You all right?” she asked.

  “That's subjective,” he murmured.

  Yesterday he'd willingly walked into the belly of the beast, and as stoic as he was on the outside, she knew it had to have left scars on the inside. Even if she were only his commander, his mental state was important to her, and she was more than his commander. Noa hit the halt button of the elevator. He looked up at her.

  “Talk to me,” Noa said. She switched to the ether. “Or think to me. Let me know what's on your mind.”

  James eerily blue eyes searched hers. “I wonder,” he thought. “If 6T9 would really be happier with a faster processor. Not being able to fathom consequences, it must be a relief. He was happy, right until the end.”

  Noa felt her chest go heavy. “It wasn't the end. It was a nap.”

  James tilted his head and didn’t state the obvious; after Ghost got hold of him, there wouldn’t be much left. Noa’s thumb went to the stumps of her fingers. She’d make sure he only scavenged Sixty as a last resort.

  “6T9 lived for Eliza. His only unhappiness was that he couldn’t fulfill her mentally,” James said.

  “So he'll be able to when he gets the processor,” Noa said, not quite sure where this was going, and feeling uncomfortable.

  “But she doesn't expect to live to see that,” James said.

  Eliza had seemed unwell lately, and surely the incident with Oliver escaping proved there had been problems but ... “She was sharp as a tack this morning,” Noa retorted.

  “Yes,” James agreed, eyes still on hers.

  “She's got more time,” Noa protested.