Cyborg Legacy

  Leonidas eyed the big door where the clinking came from, but not for long. He turned toward the far wall. It was made of windows and showed a glimpse of some dark interior room.

  A faint pained groan came from that direction, and the hairs on the back of Jasim’s neck rose. There was a clear door between all those windows, a closed door. He doubted someone without enhanced hearing would have heard the groan, but Leonidas looked over, meeting his eyes. He jerked his chin in that direction, and they started forward.

  “You don’t think the kid stabbed himself with one of his own needles, do you?” Jasim whispered.

  Leonidas shook his head once. Jasim remembered why he’d thought his old commander aloof—and had nearly wet himself the time he’d gone into his office.

  The room at the far end remained dark as they continued toward it. Jasim looked back toward the door Leonidas had pushed open. The big garage did not have any other obvious exits, not unless he was wrong and those side doors led somewhere instead of housing vehicles. It crossed his mind that they could be easily trapped in here.

  He reminded himself that he and Leonidas could tear down the walls if they needed to escape.

  Another groan sounded, almost a whimper. Now Jasim could hear pained breathing through the door.

  Leonidas reached it first, and Jasim silently admitted to being glad he was leading. This place—and those noises—made him uneasy. He had the feeling that they were being watched and eyed the walls, surprised he did not spot cameras along them. Maybe the cameras were well camouflaged.

  The door was not locked. Leonidas pushed it open, leading with his rifle. The lights came on, and Jasim jerked, almost gasping.

  A man lay on a massive stone table, his muscular body splayed across it, with inches-thick chains hanging from equally thick shackles around his wrists and ankles. They were bolted to the floor with bolts big enough to keep an android from escaping. Or, Jasim realized as he looked at the man’s face, a cyborg.

  He recognized him: Corporal Banding. The pawnshop owner. His old colleague.

  A giant metal block lay atop his torso, pinning him down. It, too, was chained and bolted to the floor, those chains so tight that they could not be shifted. The weight would have crushed the ribs of a normal man. Maybe his spine too. Banding lay there, his breathing shallow, his eyes squinted shut with pain. He appeared conscious but did not look over at Leonidas and Jasim, did not seem to notice that they had entered.

  “Banding,” Leonidas whispered, stepping forward.

  He lifted a hand, as if to reach for one of the chains to break it, but he paused. Jasim walked up beside him and saw why. An IV was inserted into Banding’s arm. It was one of several wires and tubes attached to him. Stands holding fluid bags rested next to the table, and the wires trailed to computers, holodisplays floating Banding’s vital statistics in the air. All manner of equipment stretched along the back wall beyond the table, including a bronze, spherical drone with a needle-stabbing mechanism sticking out of one end. It was the same as, or maybe an upgrade to, the one they’d seen at the station. Several unlabeled bottles also rested on that table. Poisons?

  “Blessings of the Suns Trinity, Banding,” Leonidas said. “Have they been experimenting on you?”

  Banding’s eyes never opened, and he never gave any sign that he knew they were there, but another pitiful moan escaped his lips.

  Jasim swallowed. He had seen his comrades die in battle, but this was ignoble and somehow worse.

  “Break the chains,” Leonidas said, kneeling beside the one binding Banding’s right wrist.

  “What about the IVs?” Jasim knelt beside one of the leg chains, though the size of the thing daunted him. And it wasn’t simple steel. “What is this, ahridium? You could build an entire spaceship hull with this much.”

  “I’m not sure what happens if we pull the IVs. They could be injecting poison into him, or that might have already been done, and they’re what’s keeping him alive to experiment on.” Leonidas glanced at the one closest to him, the wire dangling from Banding’s elbow, and for the first time, Jasim saw uncertainty in his old commander’s eyes. “No doctor around to call. We’ll have to risk getting him out of here and trying to find some sawbones in the city.”

  Angry at this indignity, Jasim gripped the chain, intending to break it apart with his gauntleted hands. But it was the material of spaceship hulls, light and incredibly strong. It bent before it broke, and even with his armor enhancing his strength, it took a lot of twisting and growling to snap the links. Dufour had designed the chains with cyborgs in mind. Jasim was sure of it.

  A crack rang out as Leonidas broke the chain near the shackle. Banding would have to wear the thick metal bracelets until they could find someone with a blowtorch. Or a key.

  “You’re still as strong as a mountain, sir,” Jasim said. “Don’t let anyone call you old.”

  “Flattery, Antar?” Leonidas moved around the head of the table, careful to avoid the wires, and reached for the chain coming from Banding’s other wrist.

  “Do you object?”

  “Not as much as you’d think.”

  “Maybe I should have tried it years ago when I was trying to get you to sign me out of the unit.”

  Leonidas gave him an exasperated look. “What you didn’t know then, and apparently don’t know now, if you’re still irked with me over that, is that I didn’t have the power to do that. You sign their contract; the empire figures it owns you. Once they’d invested all that money and time in the surgeries, there was no way they were going to let you walk before your twenty years. I’m not sure they planned for us to walk even then.” Leonidas knelt to wrestle with the chain. “Not many of us made it to the end of the enlistment and got to test that theory.”

  Jasim’s chain finally gave way, and he dropped it to the floor with a clunk, moving to the final one holding Banding down. “I wasn’t irked, sir. And I’m not now either. Not with you. Maybe with myself. Sometimes, when you’re dancing on a sun’s surface, anything looks like a better option. Even a black hole. You don’t realize until you’re in it that maybe you should have waited for another opportunity to escape.”

  “A lot of people regretted joining. You weren’t the only one. But once you’ve given your word, you’re honor bound.”

  Yes, the colonel had been a man of honor, and he’d expected it from those around him. Jasim remembered that. He wondered if that had been the reason Leonidas had gotten angry with him all those years ago. Less because the Corps was hard and the killing was disturbing and more because Jasim had wanted to break his word to the empire, to pretend he hadn’t signed that contract.

  “Yes, sir. And like I said, I’m not mad. That’s not why I’ve been bringing it up. I just wanted… I don’t know. It’s not why I got in touch with you, but it’s been on my mind these last few days, that maybe while we’re doing this… you’d see that I’ve changed. You’d see that I’m not someone who would willingly break my word, not now. I can be trusted.”

  “Why does my opinion even matter?”

  “I don’t know. I guess, maybe if I can change your mind, I figure I’ll have a chance at changing other people’s minds too. About what they think cyborgs are. About what they think I am.” Jasim heaved, pulling the link apart with another snap.

  “You get your opinion of yourself straight, and then you’ve got a shot at the rest.”

  Jasim started to argue that he didn’t have a poor opinion of himself, but he groped for the conviction needed to say the words. Leonidas spoke again first.

  “Now get the chains holding this block on top of him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Banding was far more important than opinions right now. Jasim could dwell on their discussion later.

  “We’ll check out that clinking next,” Leonidas said, tilting his chin toward the cavernous garage.

  Jasim had almost forgotten about it. “Yes, sir. Do you think—”

  Light flashed in the back of the ro
om, and they both spun in that direction. Several monitors that had been dormant had come to life, indicators blinking on previously quiet computer consoles.

  “Security?” Jasim asked, looking at the broken chains. Only two remained intact, the two on the block.

  “Maybe,” Leonidas said, eyeing a couple of the monitors. They showed medical statistics rather than security information.

  Banding’s heart beat rapidly even though he barely appeared conscious. Jasim had no idea what the other statistics indicated.

  “Hurry and finish,” Leonidas said, pointing to the remaining chains. “I want to get him unhooked and off this table.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jasim didn’t have a clue when it came to IVs, so he would let Leonidas handle that.

  “Wish I knew what this stuff was,” Leonidas muttered, bending over one as Jasim worked at snapping another chain. “Is it keeping him sedated or keeping him alive?”

  The console beeped, and a computer announced, “Increasing dosage.”

  “What?” Leonidas jerked straight, lifting his hands. “I didn’t touch anything yet.”

  A pained gasp came from Banding’s lips, and his back tried to arch. The block kept his torso pinned down, so only his neck came off the table.

  Leonidas cursed and yanked out the IVs stabbing the veins in each of his arms. A spasm went through Banding. His eyes flew open, but only for a second, and he didn’t see them, didn’t register anything except pain. He stiffened, gasped one more time, then slumped back on the table.

  “Banding?” Leonidas rested a hand on his chest.

  “He flatlined,” Jasim said, horror filling him as he stared at the monitor, the one that had been measuring his heartbeat.

  “Damn it, what?” Leonidas looked at it and checked his pulse. “Maybe I just pulled out a wire attached to the monitor… No.”

  He swore again and moved as if to do chest compressions, but the block covered too much of Banding’s torso. He roared and crouched so he could shove at it from below. Jasim rushed to help, but Leonidas heaved it upward, snapping the last chain by himself. It crashed off the table and to the floor, so loudly that Jasim was sure the noise could be heard all the way back at the cantina.

  Leonidas pressed a palm to Banding’s chest and leaned in for compressions, but an ominous clanking sound came from the garage. One of the big vehicle doors started rolling up.

  Chapter 15

  The clinks grew louder as the door fully rolled up. Leonidas looked from Banding to the noise, back to Banding, and finally back toward the noise. With a frustrated growl, he snatched up his rifle and lunged toward the door.

  Jasim was already moving around the table and met him there. Whatever final poison had been administered to Banding, he doubted there would be any bringing him back. It was a sobering thought. Jasim hadn’t known Banding well and hadn’t spoken to him in years, but if he and Leonidas couldn’t handle what came through that big door, they could be facing the same end.

  Leonidas led the way into the cavernous garage as the shadows stirred in the huge alcove and something stomped into view. The bulky tank-sized contraption had four articulating legs, a squat body, and a giant head, all made from metal, maybe the same, nearly indestructible metal as the chains. Weapons that Jasim couldn’t identify bristled from the front and back of the body, custom-made ones, he was sure. His first thought was that this was the owner’s giant security robot, a construct meant to come out and protect the place if an alarm was triggered, but he glimpsed movement behind Glastica or some other clear material comprising the front of the blocky head.

  “There’s someone in there,” Jasim blurted, not sure if Leonidas had seen. The head of the mechanical beast was just shy of the twenty-foot ceiling—Jasim was surprised the towering machine had fit in the alcove behind that rollup door.

  Leonidas had stopped a few meters outside the room where Banding lay, and he was eyeing the contraption, maybe looking for weaknesses. It turned to face them, and Jasim was tempted to fire first, to see if he could do damage before the person driving it started firing. But the Glastica was clear enough that he could see the man in there from this angle, shoulders and head visible above a control console. He had a young face. Even though Jasim hadn’t seen a picture of Dufour yet, he knew in his heart that this was their nineteen-year-old enemy. The person who had been a kid when he’d lost his father to cyborgs in the war. Even with Banding’s death fresh in his mind, knowing Dufour’s past made him hesitate, made him feel guilty since the empire—his people—had started the kid down this path.

  A faint hiss came from vents high up on the walls. A greenish substance flowed out into the garage.

  “Gas,” Leonidas said.

  Jasim’s suit soon confirmed that, the sensors flashing an alert and also an analysis.

  “A toxic gas,” he replied quietly, not wanting their enemy to hear their conversation. “But it won’t harm us through our suits.” Not unless their armor, which had taken damage during the pirate battle, leaked.

  Jasim’s heart lurched into his throat as he looked at the stats scrolling down his faceplate. No, suit integrity was still good.

  “Unless it’s corrosive,” Leonidas growled. “But it shouldn’t be, or it would be a danger to him too. That contraption looks like it’s made of material similar to our armor.”

  A click came from the construct, and several weapon ports on its legs popped open.

  Jasim twitched with surprise. For some reason, he’d expected the kid to talk to them first, to tell them why he was killing them. He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if the other cyborgs had received any warning or explanation.

  “Look out,” Leonidas barked, and ran, first dodging so he wouldn’t be right in front of the thing, and then sprinting toward the wall. He probably wanted to run around behind it and jump on where he could do some damage—and avoid fire.

  Jasim dodged in the other direction, firing at the Glastica viewing port as he did. If he could draw their attacker’s attention, Leonidas could get in close and do some real damage. Or so he thought. Four weapons fired at once, two blazer-like beams of blue energy and two rockets.

  Jasim threw himself to the ground as the beams lanced toward him. Both rockets went toward Leonidas. One slammed into a rollup door as he passed it. It exploded, flames and light bursting forth. Jasim was too busy rolling away from those beams to see what happened next over there, but Leonidas’s voice sounded over his comm.

  “He’s not afraid of blowing up his own compound,” he said.

  Jasim sprang to his feet in time to leap aside as more beams arrowed in his direction. It didn’t look like his first attack had done anything—if that was simple Glastica, it had to be reinforced with something.

  Leonidas flattened himself to the ground as another rocket zipped straight at him. It crashed into the wall just behind him, blowing up with a thunderous boom that rattled the entire compound.

  Jasim fired at the construct as he ran along the long wall toward the exit, having a vague notion that he might fire from behind the cover of the doorjamb if he reached it. The cavernous garage was too open, and the construct must have had targeting software—he didn’t believe the kid would be able to fire so many weapons at once, not with accuracy. Only their cyborg speed had kept them from being hit. So far.

  Smoke filled the air, gray mingling with the green gas. Jasim fired again, aiming at the joints of the legs and the seams in the head and body, hoping to find a weak spot. But he might as well have been firing at a spaceship.

  “The face should be the most vulnerable target,” Leonidas said, a pained note to his voice. Had he been hit? He’d finally managed to get behind the construct, but since it had weapons on both sides, he wouldn’t be safe unless he climbed atop its back.

  “I’ve hit it, and it hasn’t done anything,” Jasim said, skidding to a stop as one of those rocket launchers pointed in his direction.

  It fired, and he sprang backward. It cut off his dash for the exit,
slamming into the wall in front of the door. Jasim returned fire instead of running away from the explosion—he trusted his armor to keep him safe, and maybe the flames and smoke would make it harder for their enemy to see and target him. Pieces of rock thudded into his back, and a crash sounded as the doorway collapsed.

  “Try a sustained blast,” Leonidas said. “No, wait.” He lowered his voice so it was barely audible over the comm. “Distract him. I’ll try to get up to the head.”

  Distract him? Wouldn’t that be fun.

  One of the rear rockets fired, driving Leonidas away from the back of the construct. It also swiveled and moved farther away. It was doing too good of a job of keeping track of both of them.

  Jasim stepped away from the wall and the doorway—what remained of it—and the construct fired again, this time with the energy beams. He sprang away, zigzagging to be unpredictable. Even so, one of the beams clipped his shoulder. He felt it even through his armor, and text scrolled down his faceplate, warning him that his suit’s integrity was in danger. And that the gas was still out there.

  “Terrance,” Jasim called, not sure that the kid would respond or even pay attention. He certainly hadn’t wanted to have a conversation before he started shooting. “We know you’ve been killing cyborgs, and we’ve come to stop you. The war is over. What you’re doing is a crime.”

  “What you did was a crime,” came the prompt snarl, the voice sounding young even though it was muffled, coming out through some speaker in the machine. “You’re the killers, the murderers. You think we all didn’t know? You think we didn’t see? The crime was that you were allowed to live after the war. The Alliance should have killed you all.”

  Jasim waved away smoke, hoping his suit’s sensors would warn him if more attacks came his way—he could barely see the construct through the haze. Somehow, he knew their enemy was glaring in his direction, though.