by M. D. Cooper
“That’s…intense…” Rogers said. “So it’s like an AI in a person?”
Raye nodded. “Kinda. It takes a lot of bandwidth. More than the standard wireless hookup. It’s why I wear these gloves. They tap into the ship. I play it like a piano.” He flipped his hands over so Rogers see the thousands of thin, waving filaments on his palms.
The gloves looked more like a black liquid film over Raye’s hands. Not only did Rogers need to get those away from him, he was going to have to fly this thing…and hopefully not go blind as a result. Of course, gloves like that…he didn’t want to think about it just yet.
“Amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Raye’s nose twitched and his lip curled in a sneer, showing off his golden teeth. He opened his mouth to say something but his head cocked to the side.
“Funny, something’s wrong in the galley. Everything…it’s fallen silent. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
Rogers shook his head. “Can’t say I do. If you want, I can go check on it while you stay here and keep the ship steady.”
“Sure, why don’t you do that. If there’s a problem, look for Beatrice. Or Bubbs.”
Bubbs, great. She was even tougher than Beatrice.
Rogers patted Raye on the shoulder as he stood up. The pilot grunted in response, and Rogers spun, feeling a mote of guilt as he brought his beer bottle down on Raye’s head.
Things, however, were not going to be so easy. Raye’s hand was up, and his head was turned, white eyes on Rogers. The ship’s pilot caught the bottle in his outstretched hand.
He pulled the bottle away and tossed it across the bridge, rising and stared Rogers down.
“You think just because I’m blind I don’t see what you got planned?” Raye snarled and shoved Rogers into a console. The pilot pinned Rogers’ arm against the metal surface while driving his knee into Rogers’ gut.
Rogers grunted as the air rushed out of his lungs. He ignored the pain, twisting and kicking Raye in the leg, trying to take out the larger man’s knee.
Raye sidestepped, and charged, slamming Rogers back into a console before raising his hands to swing them down onto Rogers’ head.
Rogers wasn’t usually the type to fight dirty, but he was willing to make an exception. He reached up and grabbed fistfuls of Raye’s dreads pulling for all he was worth.
Raye shrieked, surprising Rogers. He’d expected it to hurt, but the dreads seemed to be Raye’s weakness. He twisted the thick cords of hair and Raye fell to his knees.
“Please…aghhhhh.” Raye begged.
Rogers couldn’t stomach that kind of begging from a grown man.
“Clasp your hands behind your back,” Rogers ordered. When the Queen’s pilot complied, Rogers pulled down on the man’s dreads as hard as he could, while swinging his knee up. He repeated the motion three times before Ray stopped struggling. Rogers did it once more for good measure and then let Raye fall to the deck.
He bent down next to the man and inspected the gloves. They facilitated the interface between Raye’s mind and the ship. Which meant thy were probably connected to him somehow.
He inspected the tight black gloves and found a small tab at the wrist. He pulled it, and the filaments retracted into the glove. Then it loosened. Rogers repeated the action with the other glove, and then tried to remove them.
To his surprise, they came free easily. He half-expected them to have direct neural connections running into Ray’s hands.
Moment of truth, he thought, as he slipped them on. For a moment, nothing happened, then the gloves tightened, taking on the liquid sheen once more. A sensation like a thousand pinpricks hit his palms, not as bad as he’d feared. Then a wave of pain radiated out from his palm, and he bit down on his cheek to keep from screaming.
It felt like someone was driving spikes through his hands. The pain radiated up his arms and slammed into his head.
Shit… is it wiring itself into me?
He fell to his knees as waves of agony washed over him. He threw back his head and tried to scream, but nothing came out. The pain seemed to last forever, and when Rogers was aware of his surroundings once more, he was lying on the bridge’s deck, his face up against Raye’s boot.
An unpleasant smell assaulted his nostrils. Gah…what did he step in?
Rogers wasn’t worried about that. He was more worried about the ship making him purr, but he wouldn’t find out just be staring his hands. They needed to get to Kylie. This risk was part of finding her. They needed their captain and Rogers needed to help her.
There were no controls, no console, so he simply held his hands out, and imagined the ship drifting in the void, cupped in his hands.
Something happened; there was a tingling sensation in his hands, and then a strange vibration flowed up his arms.
He gasped as his vision changed, the bridge falling away from him. He wasn’t a pilot anymore sitting on the bridge of a starship; he was the ship. He saw everything from the Queen’s point of view. He felt the thrum of the engines, the vibrations they made in the deck, and the feel of cold vacuum on his skin.
Man, oh man, it was exhilarating. It lit him up, every nerve ending was on fire as he brought up the navigation systems, as their flight details were inserted directly into his mind. There the ship was, one hop from Silstrand, thirty minutes from the jump point. He felt the engines and knew that with just a little more speed…
Energy surged through him as he increased the ship’s burn, as though the fusion reaction was going on in is brain.
“Wooo!” Rogers screamed. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get over the rush.
LOOSE ENDS
STELLAR DATE: 09.27.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Barbaric Queen
REGION: Interstellar Dark Layer, Silstrand Alliance
Winter set the welder down in front of the galley doors and pulled on a mask. It wasn’t pretty, but it would do the trick for now. Good thing the Queen had reinforced steel doors; the arc welder would make short work of sealing them in.
He attached the clamp to the door and had just finished his tac welds when a voice called out from behind him.
“You think you can just take down the Barbaric Queen and get away with it! I will end you!”
He spun and saw Bubbs with her gun-arm extended, a snarl on her lips and her one eye narrowed menacingly.
“Hey, uh…just a prank, you know. What are you doing out here?”
“Prank my ass. I was in the shitter…something in Rogers’ cooking doesn’t agree with me. But now I think that maybe something else is going on.”
She pulled her arm back and Winter dove to the side as a hail of rail-fired pellets shot out of her arm and tore up the bulkhead.
He had a moment to count himself lucky she hadn’t been in the galley. Everyone else in there had only worn sidearms. Bubbs probably could have just shot a hole in the bulkhead and walked out.
“Bubbs! Your crew is in there, careful!”
“Shit!” Bubbs swore and she shifted nervously in her thigh-high leather boots. Winter wondered how she managed the weight of the gun in heels like that.
Right before he slammed a fist into her face.
Bubbs grunted
and fell back, swinging her gun-arm at his head. Winter pulled back, but it clipped him in the shoulder.
Damn! That thing hurts even when it’s not shooting!
He took a swing at her, and she ducked backward. A kick, a punch, they traded blows in an epic slug-fest for over a minute before Winter fell back.
“Damn you’re sexy when you growl, Bubbs.”
“Your white ass isn’t so bad either,” she replied with a menacing smile.
“I’d fuck you right now if I wasn’t supposed to take you down.”
Bubbs laughed. “Why can’t we do both?”
Winter lunged at her and she didn’t throw up any defenses. Their lips met and he pushed her back against the bulkhead. This was his kind of fight.
Ah shit, Winter thought.
“Sorry babe, we’ll have to pick this up another time,” Winter said and grabbed Bubbs by her hair, slamming her head into the bulkhead once, twice, three times before she was out.
He looked at the galley doors and the tac welds holding them together. It would have to do.
* * * * *
As had become their custom, Nadine sat on Kingfisher’s right at the table in his private dining room. She took a delicate sip of the white wine he had poured for them.
The diamond bracelet glinted on her wrist, a gift he had given as a sign of his affection—and devotion to their contract and promise.
Kingfisher wore one of his long coats, double breasted with twin rows of brass buttons running down the front. Sometimes, when he held himself just so, he managed to pull off the pseudo royalty he played at. Making the hard lines of his face become regal, rather than cold and hard.
Rogers had prepared them a meal of poached salmon over wild rice and a simple butter sauce. There was a delicate cilantro taste that did wonders in masking the poison Nadine had laced Kingfisher’s sauce with. She watched as he delicately spooned more of it over his rice and then scooped it into his mouth.
“You keep smiling.”
“I love watching you eat,” Nadine said softly. “There’s a poetic way in which you move. Forgive me for saying so, but your grace is something you don’t expect from a captain of The Black Crow.”
Kingfisher laughed. “I’ve always fancied myself more than just a pirate. Someone who serves The Black Crow because they what? Like to rob and steal? Like to take things and pillage for themselves? Alignment with The Black Crow has simply afforded me protection.”
“That’s very smart of you.”
“Surround yourself with the best; that’s why I spared your life. The way you fought Beatrice was…unexpected. On top of that, your elegance and grace will afford me a certain level of respect. Don’t get me wrong, you’re not arm candy. I’ve been searching a long time for someone I could consider an equal, someone with whom to enter into a partnership.” With that Kingfisher raised his glass of wine and Nadine followed suit.
A bead of sweat ran down her temple and her hand trembled as raised her wine glass. “To a partnership.” Nadine sipped her wine. It did nothing to help the spinning in her head, though it also didn’t make it worse. It was almost as if she had been poisoned instead of Kingfisher but that wasn’t possible. Nadine wasn’t affected by her poison.
“Are you feeling all right, my dear?” Kingfisher said with mock concern as he leaned back in his chair and watched her with what could only be described as a macabre glee.
“You put something in my drink.” She was matter of fact about it; there was no other explanation for how she felt.
“Just something that will loosen you up. Get a bit more of the unvarnished truth from you. Nothing that’ll hurt you.”
She was aware that her internal med systems were already working against the serum—if she hadn’t been hit so hard with it, she would have noticed the alerts. It felt as though her body was fighting off an infection. “If you wanted to know something, you just had to ask.”
“Oh, I asked around. You and the Dauntless crew have been acting strange the last few days. When Winter volunteered to help Rogers on kitchen duty, I suspected something fishy was up. And I don’t mean the salmon—which is delicious, by the way.”
“Winter loves kitchen duty, but he doesn’t think it fits his image, so you have to ask nicely. He and Kylie—”
“Are you trying to poison me, Nadine?” Kingfisher asked.
“No,” Nadine blurted out with force but her head nodded. “It’s not—true. It’s a neurotoxin.” She grimaced. Damn, truth serum. Damn her nano for taking so long to clear it out.
“I knew it. You’re too beautiful to be honest.” Kingfisher stood up and with a flourish, he grabbed his dinner knife and stood over Nadine.
She peered up at him as he stood beside her chair. “Everything we’ve promised, the things we’ve planned to do together…I look forward to our partnership just as much as you. Our liaisons have been very pleasurable. You have this amazing ship. We’ll go far. I don’t want to risk it.”
Kingfisher stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Why don’t you tell me? Are you ready to risk it all, Nadine Devonire?”
Nadine mentally ordered her mouth to be obedient. Kylie, the crew, it was all at risk. She had to keep the mission front and center. Then it hit her—Kingfisher should’ve passed out by now. The fact he didn’t, meant she had to change the game.
“Yes,” Nadine said simply. She grabbed his wrist with one hand while the other shot out and wrapped around his throat. She pushed up fast, throwing him off balance for a moment.
“A little thing like you can’t scare me.”
“You’re as stupid as you are wrong.” With a single, deft twist, Nadine wrenched the knife from his hand, ran its blade along the clasp on her belt, then drove it into the inside of his upper thigh. He bellowed in pain, and she pulled the knife down and out.
A spray of blood flew out of the wound, soaking the front of her dress and Nadine knew she’d hit the femoral artery.
Kingfisher slid down to the floor. “How wrong I was about you. My people will be coming, they’ll kill…” his eyes widened, and he gagged, hands clawing at his throat. His mouth foamed, white and thick; he’d choke on it before he bled out.
“They aren’t coming and even if they were, you wouldn’t survive. Sorry, Kingfisher, I had a backup plan, which was more poison. I was going to use it with a kiss if needs be. A blade works just as well. I really do feel bad about this, though. I had just grown to like you.”
Kingfisher began to convulse and Nadine stepped back as the poison finished its work…maybe he would die from it before he choked to death. She hadn’t expected that, given his mass.
It would’ve been easier if the neurotoxin in the food had killed him—it wouldn’t have hurt as much.
The door slid open and Winter ran in. He paused and took in her blood-soaked dress and Kingfisher’s still-twitching body. “Hot damn, here I thought I was coming to rescue you. Guess I was still thinking about the fake you, huh?”
His words cut deep, even if Winter didn’t design it that way. “She’s still here, in a way, buried inside.” She took a deep breath and counted to three, settling her stomach. “Everyone in the galley?”
“Yeah, they’re all knocked out. Had a little issue with Bubbs, but she’s in the brig now. Rogers needs help with Raye.”
“He’s able to fly the ship?” Nadine was surprised that Rogers already had assumed control.
“As the crow flies or some old shit like that. Beatrice is unaccounted for though. After I took out Bubbs I did a headcount and realized the big B was gone too.”
It figures. Nadine retrieved her dagger from Kingfisher’s leg. “Leave her to me. You go help secure Raye.”
* * * * *
Piloting the Barbaric Queen gave Rogers a massive
biggest rush. It was like riding the biggest rollercoaster known to man except without grav compensators. His belly lurched and his nerves fluttered. Even just flying straight felt like there was wind in his hair, which made no sense because space had no wind.
It was the most amazing high of his life. Rogers couldn’t help yelling, “Woo!” as he banked the ship just for the sheer pleasure of it. An incredible surge followed, and then an itch behind him he couldn’t scratch. Like a stone skipping across a puddle, Rogers felt something shimming in the air.
Then he saw a shadow formed to his side and Rogers realized it was Raye. The bastard wasn’t unconscious anymore and he was reaching for Rogers.
Rogers drove his elbow back, trying to pilot the ship as Raye slammed his open palms over Rogers’s eyes, forcing his head back. “I’m gonna gouge those out of your head, boy! You think you can just steal my ship!”
Rogers screamed. “Finders keepers!” The ship lurched as he lost concentration while trying to pry Raye’s fingers away, but the blind man had quite the grip on him.
“Get! Away!” Rogers wrenched his head left and right as he tried to free himself. A moment later, Raye threw a small wire across Rogers’ throat and pulled it tight as Rogers sank deep into the chair trying to lessen the pressure.
Rogers fished his fingers underneath the wire feeling warm, slick blood, a moment before his augmented senses felt the air change in the cockpit. It grew colder, something big moved through it, and the corner of his lip twitched as he saw a muscular shape appear next to Raye and pull his arms forward—loosening the wire—before smashing a fist into pirate’s head.
Winter, damn, it was about time.
“Took you long enough!” Rogers said. “You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”
“Sorry, Bubbs is stronger than I thought she was. Then you told me to check on Nadine, remember? You feeling all right?” Winter asked. “Your eyes look funny.”