Blood and Metal

by Nina Croft

  He wanted to deny the accusation. Unfortunately, he couldn’t. His whole life had been about getting himself where he needed—or rather wanted—to be. But that was no longer true. He’d saved Daisy from the prison on Trakis Four. He hadn’t needed to, and it had fucked up his plans, but he had done it anyway. His first-ever altruistic action.

  “I would have come back.” He lowered his arm and stepped back. “Maybe.”

  Stefan shook his head. “At least you’re honest. You’d have come if you thought there was anything in it for you. So don’t get in my face about something I believed I had to do.”

  “Yeah, you had to get me back to finish your research. That’s all you’ve ever cared about. You’re hardly Mr. Altruistic yourself, you know.”

  Stefan pursed his lips. “Actually, in this case I am.”

  “Of course you are.” Fergal ran a hand through his hair, pressing his fingers into his scalp, though the pain was already receding. He took a couple of steps back and sank down onto the cot.

  “So how have you been?” Stefan asked. “Anything weird happening?”

  A whole load, but he wasn’t opening up to Stefan until he found out how Daisy was. “The girl I came in with. Where is she?”

  Irritation flashed across the other man’s eyes; Stefan hated to be deflected from what he considered the important stuff. He frowned. “Does it matter? You said you paid her to help you get in here.”

  “I lied.”

  The frown deepened. “About which part?”

  “The paid bit. She’s a friend. Actually, she came after me to warn me that you had turned traitor and were working for the bad guys.” He watched Stefan closely, trying to gauge the man’s response. Amusement, maybe? Stefan was really turning into a happy guy.

  “I think it’s a little harsh to refer to the Church as the bad guys. All they want is to get the worthy among us into Heaven.”

  “Yeah, right. The worthy. Unfortunately, I suspect that neither you, nor I, come into that category.”

  “And neither does your little bloodsucking friend. Jesus. A vampire? Is she for real, or is it some sort of genetic modification gone wrong?”

  “No, she’s real. Apparently, vampires came from Earth along with the humans and a few other things.”

  “Well, that’s bad news for her.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Hatcher gave orders for her to be tied up in the courtyard outside at dawn. If the legends are true, when the suns come up…”

  “She’ll burn.” Shit, there was that panic again. But he could do this. This wasn’t about him anymore. It was about saving Daisy. Who, despite being the undead, was one of the most alive people he had ever met. And one of the best. She was good. Truly good. “Where is she now?” he asked.

  “Does it matter? Forget her, Fergal. She’s going to die, and there’s nothing you can do about it. And we have work to do. I have to get you to the labs, take some blood samples—”

  Fergal lunged for a second time. This time he pinned Stefan with an arm across his chest so he could still talk. What threat would work best with Stefan?

  “You’ve told the guards to stay away?” he said.

  Stefan gave a wary nod.

  “So let me tell you how it’s going to be. I swear if you don’t help me save my friend, I will tie you up and make you watch while I slit my wrists and every damn drop of my precious blood goes down the fucking drain.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Stefan stared at him, his brows drawn together. “You’d do that? For a girl?”

  “Did I mention the word ‘friend’?”

  “You once told me you don’t have friends, you have contacts and acquaintances.”

  “Well, I’ve got one now.”

  Stefan was silent for a minute. Fergal gave him the time to think but didn’t release his hold.

  “Actually, you have two,” Stefan said. “If we can still be friends.”

  Fergal took a deep breath, gave a curt nod, and released his grip on the other man. Stefan got to his feet, rubbing his chest. “Is it my imagination or are you even stronger?”

  “Stronger, faster. My cognitive function is through the roof.”

  Stefan’s eyes lit up with a zeal Fergal recognized. “We need to get you to the lab, do some tests—”

  “First we need to save my friend. How many hours until dawn?”

  “Just under three. There’s time to get this thing moving and still try and do something for your little bloodsucker.”

  “No. We go see Daisy, then the lab.”

  For the first time, he saw a flash of anger in the other man’s face. Stefan paced the room and then whirled around to face him. “Have you any fucking idea what’s been going on here?”

  Fergal studied him. Yes, there was definite anger, but beneath that was a very real fear—he didn’t think he had ever heard Stefan swear before. “Why don’t you tell me? Just make it quick.”

  Stefan slumped slightly. He hadn’t been sure Fergal would cooperate, and the idea had terrified him. Stefan didn’t do terror—he was usually so immersed in his research he didn’t have a clue what was going on around him. The last few months had obviously made him take notice.

  “They came into Cybercom the day after I got you out. Beauchamp was in charge. He took the drones first, loaded them up, and brought them straight here. The rest of us were dragged off to prison on some trumped-up charge, crimes against the Church, making monsters or some such rubbish. Most of the executive board I never saw again. I think they were executed—”

  “They were,” Fergal said. “I found the records when I was looking for you.”

  “Shit. Beauchamp told me the others were being held in a safe place. But he probably thinks the fewer people who know where his new army came from the better.”

  “So the Church is creating an army? I did wonder.”

  “Yeah, they plan to strike first, wipe out any possible opposition. Get some stability. And then…”

  “And then what?”

  “Beauchamp has been keeping things close to himself. But from what I’ve gathered, he plans an expedition.”

  “An expedition where?”

  “Back through the black hole at Trakis One. God knows why, though.”

  “Actually, I can guess.”

  Stefan raised a brow. “And are you going to tell me?”

  Was he? He wondered for a moment whether he should reveal what Daisy had told him about the other side of the hole. But hey, Stefan was his friend—there had to come a point where you trusted people. “Meridian. Beauchamp is going after immortality. The source of Meridian is on the other side of the black hole.”

  “And you know this how?”

  Fergal tapped his nose. “A good reporter never reveals his sources.”

  “Humph. Actually, it doesn’t take a lot of working out. The girl you were with was part of the crew that woke up Beauchamp on the other side of the hole. And by the way, if you ever get the chance, feel free to point out what a huge mistake that was. She’s obviously your source. I would one day like to know the story behind that, but right now we have more important things to discuss.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anyway,” Stefan continued, “they had their own scientists, but they kept me alive as insurance. Then a couple of months ago they obviously came to the conclusion that their people were never going to get the drones working—”

  “You had something to do with that?”

  “I did. After I’d gotten you out, I set the rest up on a continuous biofeedback loop that ensured they wouldn’t respond to any uploads. They couldn’t get them to do more than blink.”

  “Shit. These were once fucking people. And you’ve turned them into robots.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? And don’t you think I want a chance to put it right?”

  “You know what—I have no fucking clue. It’s always been about results for you, Stefan. You never saw us as people. Just successful experiments.�
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  “And failures. Maybe. But let’s say that the last few months have been a wake-up call. I will solve this. I will give them back their minds, and after that, they can all tell Beauchamp and the Church to go take a hike.”

  “You still think you can do it—give them back their free will?”

  “Well, you’re still alive and still functioning. I’ve been holding them off, telling them the units—”

  “Units?”

  Stefan looked away. “The other volunteers, the ones who survived the last phase—you saw them—Beauchamp prefers to refer to them as units rather than people, as that way he can persuade everyone he isn’t using some sort of monsters, just machines.”

  “The man’s an asshole.”

  “Yes. Anyway, I told him the units were damaged from the crap his crappy scientists had done, but it would clear the system in time.”

  “And will it?”

  “No. Without the altered DNA that’s been evolving in your body for the last six months, they’ll stay as they are, probably forever. And inside, somewhere deep inside, they are still living, thinking human beings.”

  “Shit. Look, let’s go get Daisy out and then—”

  “I know you’re worried about your friend, but we should do this first. Right now, I can get you out of here. They don’t see you as a huge threat. But if you try and save the girl and fail, I won’t get another chance. They’ll probably kill you along with her. And you’ll be consigning a whole load of people, people you knew well, to a living death.”

  “Yeah, and maybe giving Beauchamp his fucking army.” He ran a hand through his hair. His headache was gone. All this time, he’d thought he was dying, and all he’d needed was a fucking painkiller. And he’d thought he was dying because Stefan had told him so, and he’d done that because he didn’t trust Fergal. Could he trust Stefan now? What if he did his part and Stefan refused to help, just locked him up in here while they put Daisy out in the sun to fry?

  “I will help you,” Stefan said as though reading his thoughts.

  Fergal sighed, suddenly weary. And hungry. “How long will it take?”

  Stefan grinned. “An hour, tops.”

  “Then you’ll help me see Daisy.”

  “I’ll do whatever I can.”

  “That’s got to be good enough. Let’s go. But I need food as well—my metabolism has rocketed.”

  “Interesting. You can tell me about any other changes on the way to the lab.”

  Fergal sat munching on a plate of stew while Stefan hooked him up to an IV line. They were in a laboratory across the building from the prison section. It was situated on the first floor and one wall was made of glass and looked down on a huge cavernous room filled with Max’s army.

  “There are more here than you had at Cybercom,” he said.

  “I had to do the treatment on a few more subjects.” He must have caught something in Fergal’s expression, because his own became defensive. “I had no choice. I had to get them to trust me long enough for you to get here.”

  “Did you really believe I’d make it?”

  “I believed you would if you were capable of it. You’re one of the most tenacious people I know. Once you decide on something, you don’t let go. I knew you’d find me. And you’ve been undercover most of your adult life—you’re good at hiding. So yes, I hoped.”

  Most of his adult life? Longer than that, if only Stefan knew the truth. He’d assumed his first alter ego at the age of twelve.

  “Who were they?” he asked, nodding down into the room below.

  “Prisoners scheduled for execution, so you could say I saved their lives. They even had a couple of Collective members, though they didn’t make it through the initial conversion. You know they’ve been experimenting on some of the Collective they’ve captured—trying to work out what makes them tick.”

  “Bastards. But the Collective has been researching that for hundreds of years and gotten nowhere.”

  “Well, that didn’t stop Beauchamp’s lot trying.”

  He drummed his fingers on the metal of the chair while the blood drained from his arm and into the console in front of him. Dawn must be only two hours away now. Daisy would be alone, frightened. Had the bastards told her what they intended?

  “So how will you know if it’s worked?” he asked when he could no longer contain his impatience.

  Stefan glanced up from the screen he was watching. “It’s worked.”

  “You can tell already?”

  “I told you—the proof is that you’re alive and still functioning.”

  “Oh, great. So there was a chance I wouldn’t be.”

  “Would you have said no and risked ending up like them?” He waved a hand toward the drones.

  Fergal shook his head. “How much longer?”

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Then what happens?”

  “The system will filter out the processed DNA from your blood and feed it straight into the main line that links into them.”

  “How long until they start to think again?”

  “An hour, maybe two. I don’t know exactly.”

  “And what do you think is going to happen? You think the guys in charge here are going to stand aside and let them walk away?”

  From the confused expression on Stefan’s face, he hadn’t quite considered what happened next. “Why wouldn’t they?”

  Jesus, the guy was naive. “Er, because they have this army of super-strong, almost indestructible cyborgs that they require for their devious master plan.”

  “But…” Stefan shook his head.

  “Maybe you’d better start thinking about what happens next, Stefan.” That might work well for Tannis and her people. If the cyborgs all tried to escape, the place would be in chaos. It would be much easier for Tannis to slip in and kill Hatcher. But was that really what he wanted? He pushed thoughts of Hatcher away—they complicated matters.

  “Okay,” Stefan said, pulling the needle from his arm. “That’s done.”

  Fergal pushed himself to his feet.

  Stefan had brought him past the guards at the prison entrance with no problem. No one seemed to question him—they were obviously used to the doctor coming and going. Had he visited the prison to select suitable subjects for the conversion? Was that what they thought he was doing with Fergal? It occurred to him, not for the first time, that Stefan was not a moral man. On the other hand, he wasn’t evil, merely single-minded. If something was shoved in his face hard enough, he would take a look and decide it was wrong.

  If he was truly untrustworthy, he would have told Beauchamp what he had done to Fergal, and he would have been imprisoned and helpless. He hadn’t, so Fergal could only hope he would keep his word and help him now.

  He couldn’t wait for The Blood Hunter to save them. They weren’t due to turn up for another six hours. By that time, Daisy would be ashes. He had to get her out of that cell and either back to her shuttle or hidden somewhere until they arrived.

  “So have you an idea how we can do this?” he asked as they made their way through the prison.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Stefan said. “I’ll take you to her, then I’m going to see Beauchamp, tell him I want to try her for the conversion. If nothing else, it will give us some more time. Once the others come around, there’s a good chance the place will descend into chaos and you can get her out.”

  “Okay, but don’t leave it too long.”

  Stefan stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Problem,” he said.

  “What?”

  “They’ve stationed a guard outside her cell. They won’t let me through. We have to go back—you can wait somewhere else while I go see Beauchamp.”

  “No way.” He thought furiously for a moment—he wasn’t leaving her in that cell alone a second longer. “Come on, walk past with me as though nothing’s wrong.”

  For a second it looked like Stefan was going to argue, but he must have realized how determined Fergal was, and he nod
ded and led the way around the corner. Fergal kept his eyes averted but shifted his right arm into a stabbing weapon. As they passed the guard, he lunged to the side, grabbed the man by the shoulder, and plunged the blade through his throat, piercing the spinal column. The man died in a second. Fergal picked him up before he hit the ground and threw him over his shoulder.

  He took a few steps and peered into a cell next to the one the man had been guarding. The room was empty, and he kicked open the door and dropped the body on the small cot. The guard wore a utility belt with a laser pistol and a whole load of keys. Fergal stripped them and fastened the belt around his own waist. When he turned back, Stefan stood in the doorway, shock stamped on his face. He’d killed countless with his experiments, but had probably never seen a man die violently before.

  He stepped aside to let Fergal pass, and he hurried back to the cell and peered through the glass window in the door. His heart hitched; they’d shackled Daisy to the wall, her arms stretched high above her. Her head hung on her chest, and her hair covered her face. Maybe she hadn’t come around from the laser blast. But something in the way she held herself, a tenseness in her body, showed she was awake.

  She raised her head and stared straight at him with eyes tinged with crimson. Blood still stained her chin, and her lips curled in a snarl, showing one sharp white fang. There was nothing human left in her expression.

  A shiver of primordial fear ran through him. He pushed the emotion down and unlocked the door.

  The bastards were going to burn her.

  The thought pierced through the haze of darkness. They’d gloated as they had chained her up in here.

  At dawn, they planned to stake her in the open and let the sunlight do their dirty work. At least she’d get to see the sunrise one last time.

  The air was tinged with the scent of singed flesh and material where they’d blasted her with the laser pistol, all mixed in with the sweet, sickly scent of the blood of the man she had bitten. For once, the smell didn’t raise her hunger; instead her stomach churned.

  The guards were gone now, although she knew there was one outside her cell. He kept his distance, maybe afraid she would infect him with something. She tried to force down the rage and fear and think rationally. But her whole body shook with terror. Back on Earth, she had seen a woman burned alive, heard her screams. The memory still haunted her dreams.