Cyborg Legacy

  “Yes, sir. Be right there.” Jasim faced the woman again. She’d scooted back, putting several feet between them. “Here,” he said, pointing to his earstar. “I’m chipped and have Alliance tindarks in my account. Where’s your charger?”

  She lifted her hands. “No charge.”

  Jasim spotted the bank chip scanner on the floor, saw that she had started to list his purchases, and hit the total button, adding a big tip. He checked himself out, waving the scanner at his chip and hitting the process button.

  “Thank you,” he said, and jogged out, joining Adler.

  Two more androids on bikes and in uniform sailed down the promenade toward the remains of the skirmish. One veered toward Jasim and Adler, but another android lifted his hand and pointed at Adler. “Not that one.” He waved at the downed bikers. “Collect these for questioning and pressing charges.”

  “What about that one?” One of the new androids pointed at Jasim even as he strode away, hoping they wouldn’t give chase.

  The android who seemed to be in charge squinted, not at Jasim but at Adler. “No.”

  Glad for a lucky break, Jasim hurried into the lead so he could take Adler to his ship. He glanced at his old commander as they turned down the dock where the Interrogator waited. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have walked away from that situation if he had been on his own. He remembered McCall’s insinuation that Adler had new Alliance connections as well as old imperial ones. Could that have come into play out here? On a neutral station? Jasim decided that he’d done the right thing in bringing Adler in to help with this, even if walking beside his old commander made him feel uncomfortable, reminding him of his failings as a cyborg soldier. Besides, in addition to possibly having “connections,” Adler could definitely still fight, especially for an “old man.”

  Adler squinted over at him, and Jasim realized he’d been smirking.

  He wiped that expression clean, not wanting to explain his thoughts, and said, “Sorry about the delay, sir. It was important to get our bribe.”

  Adler peered at one of the bundles of yarn sticking out of the bag. “I see.”

  He would see even more in a few minutes, Jasim thought, turning toward Airlock 14.

  “What are you planning to do with that?” Jasim asked, nodding toward the drone, then glancing back for the eighth or ninth time. He couldn’t help but feel they might be followed, but once again, he did not see anyone. The throngs of people had returned to the promenade, and the androids and bikers were no longer visible.

  “I commed someone from the Nomad to come pick it up before we leave.”

  “To be stored away in your collection of war trophies?”

  Adler slid him a narrow-eyed look. “To be analyzed. She’s my children’s science tutor and has an ecumenical background. She may be able to identify the poison.” He nodded toward the needle protruding from the drone. He was being careful to keep it facing away from his body.

  Jasim did not know if identifying the poison would help them in any way. It killed people. Wasn’t that enough to know? Still, he would happily hand the drone off to someone who might be able to glean information from its construction.

  “Leonidas?” came a call from behind them, a slender bronze-skinned woman in her thirties waving and running to catch up to them. Clad in dirt-smudged overalls, she led a hoverboard stacked with recent purchases, sacks of “organic worm castings,” whatever those were. They looked like bags of dirt.

  Adler faced her. “Thank you for coming, Yumi. This is the item.” He held up the drone.

  She stopped several feet away, eyeing the needle for a moment before coming closer.

  “I’d appreciate it if you examined it on the station somewhere instead of taking it aboard the ship. It could be dangerous.”

  “Less dangerous now, I imagine, than before someone put that giant dent in the side.” The woman waved for him to lay the drone on her sacks of dirt. “I’ll have Beck or Ostberg bring me some tools, and I’ll take a look.”

  “Thank you. Send me whatever information you find, please.”

  “Will do.” She waved again and led the hoverboard away.

  Leonidas watched her go, his brow wrinkled with concern. He was probably worried that his family might be a target. Would he still be willing to leave them here?

  “Do you want to wait to see what the results are?” Jasim asked. “And to make sure nothing else bad happens?”

  “I trust Stanislav can protect the ship if there’s any trouble,” Leonidas murmured, the words seemingly more for himself than Jasim. But he did turn to Jasim and say, “I believe we should leave right away. Dufour will soon know that we’re together, and he may guess that we’re coming for him. Better not to give him extra time to plan.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  At Airlock 14, part of the sleek gray cylindrical shape of the Interrogator was visible through one of the expansive portholes. The ship appeared unmolested. Fortunately. Maddy could take care of herself, but Jasim did not want to bring any trouble to her hatch.

  “This is the ship, sir,” he said, waving Adler toward the airlock.

  “You might as well call me Leonidas.”

  Jasim paused, his hand hanging in midair in front of the hatch controls.

  “I don’t command anything anymore,” Adler added. The slightest bit wistfully?

  Jasim remembered the gleam in his eyes during that skirmish. Did he miss the action of the Corps? The constant danger? The deaths of one’s comrades? The killing of men and women who were only enemies because some high and mighty political schemer said so? Jasim could not imagine missing any of that. He would much rather have what Adler had now, a family and work that didn’t devour his soul. He still wondered how the colonel had come by children and a wife, but he couldn’t imagine broaching such a personal subject.

  “Nothing at all?” Jasim asked, keeping his tone light. “Not even the children?”

  “Especially not the children,” Adler—Leonidas said dryly.

  As they entered the ship, the thrum of the engines starting up reverberated through the deck. The hatch clanged shut behind them before Jasim closed it.

  He hurried around the corner and into NavCom to make sure someone hadn’t kidnapped Maddy. The yarn basket was still on the deck, and her familiar clipped-back gray hair was visible over the headrest.

  “In a hurry, Maddy?” he asked.

  She activated the thrusters, and they backed out of their docking spot. “After seeing you throw androids around out there? Figured we should go before trouble found us.”

  Jasim peered at the view screen. Had he and Leonidas been visible from here? No, the front of the ship was simply looking at the drab gray hull of the station.

  “You’re on the news,” Maddy added, waving at jabbering heads on a holodisplay.

  “That was quick,” Leonidas murmured from behind Jasim.

  Maddy squinted back at him. “That your armor smith?”

  “Uhm, not exactly.” Jasim wondered if she had poked her head into his cabin and seen that he hadn’t taken his armor case with him when he left.

  “Leaving is a good idea,” Leonidas said, looking at Jasim instead of Maddy, as if he believed him to be in charge.

  And why wouldn’t he? The great Colonel Adler wouldn’t expect one of his former elite cyborg soldiers to be taking orders from a seventy-year-old woman wearing a bird sweater.

  “I don’t know who you are,” Maddy told Leonidas, looking fearlessly at him, “but I wasn’t planning to take on passengers when I stopped here. Just some fresh and sparkly cyborg armor.” She raised her eyebrows at Jasim.

  He flushed, aware of Leonidas looking at him. Yes, sir, I lied to my pilot, just as I did to Mental Health Services all those years ago, trying to escape the military…

  And here he thought he had grown up.

  “I haven’t told her about the murderer yet,” he told Leonidas. “It’s not her problem. And this isn’t technically my ship.”

 
“Technically?” Maddy asked. “It’s not even untechnically your ship. You’re lucky I let you out of your cabin to breathe my son-in-law’s expensive air.”

  “You’d have trouble knitting me things if you didn’t let me out occasionally,” Jasim mumbled, looking at Leonidas’s collarbone instead of into his eyes, afraid he’d see disgust there. Yes, he had a lowly job, and yes, he took orders from Granny Madeline.

  Leonidas did not say anything.

  Maddy didn’t have any trouble finding words. “Earl wants us to head to Sepiron Station next.” If she was curious about his comment about a murderer, she did not show it. “A couple of ships got left there after their owners supposedly fled from debt collectors. But one of those debt collectors turned up dead, so Earl thinks the owners or maybe some squatters are there, keeping the ships from getting picked up. He said to take you to handle it. Just you.” She waved at Leonidas, perhaps indicating he could see himself out, no matter that they weren’t attached to the station anymore.

  Jasim looked at Leonidas, who merely looked down at the yarn bag. Yes, the yarn. Jasim had known Maddy would have a fit, and he’d planned for it. He’d just hoped he wouldn’t have to wheedle in front of his old C.O.

  “Actually,” Jasim said, stepping over the knitting basket so he could sit in the co-pilot’s seat facing Maddy. He had to lift needles and the three-quarters-finished scarf out of it so he didn’t prong himself in the butt. “My… friend here and I have a problem and need to swing by Dustor for a brief stop.”

  Maddy scowled at him as she flipped switches. “You don’t swing by Dustor. It’s out in the armpit of the system. It would take almost two weeks of flying to get there, stay long enough to spit in the sand, and then fly to Sepiron Station. Instead of three days. My son-in-law doesn’t pay us to make brief stops. This isn’t a sightseeing ship. Nor did you tell me that there would be an extra passenger.” She glowered at Leonidas again. “A huge extra passenger. It’s bad enough feeding you. How much does he eat? I didn’t order that many rat packs.”

  “I can pilot the ship if necessary,” Leonidas said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Maddy asked, her glower turning into a deep scowl.

  Jasim caught the gist right away, that Leonidas was offering to fly if they locked Maddy in her cabin for the duration of the trip. That would only get Jasim in more trouble. A lot more trouble. One did not lock up The Pulverizer’s mother-in-law.

  “Maddy, won’t you consider diverting to Dustor?” he said, smiling and holding open the bag. “There’s someone who’s been murdering cyborgs, and I may be next on the list. I recruited help here, as you can see, and I’m sure it won’t take long. Once we’re on Dustor. Look, I brought you something that could keep you occupied for those extra days in space.”

  “You think you can bribe me?” She might have sounded indignant if she hadn’t been leaning over and peering into the bag.

  Jasim decided not to be offended that she seemed far more interested in the bribe than in the fact that a murderer was after him.

  “I bet there’s something we could repossess on Dustor while we’re there,” Jasim added.

  “I doubt it. Nobody takes nice things to Dustor. Nobody takes anything to Dustor if they can help it, including themselves. Earl will never approve of that long a detour. Huh, is that Teravian wool? Where did you find this? Just out on the promenade? I had no idea they had such exotic imports. I should have gone shopping while you were gone.”

  “Maybe The Pulverizer wouldn’t have to know about Dustor,” Jasim suggested. “Perhaps he could believe we were delayed here because we had to deal with some mechanical problems.”

  Maddy frowned at him. “You want me to lie to my son-in-law?”

  “Perhaps just an omission of certain information.”

  “He looks at the odometers on the ships when they’re turned in. Even if I were the dishonest sort, which I’m not, he’d know we logged some extra miles.” She poked into the bag, examining the various offerings. “Besides, it’s not as if I need to lie to him. If I want to go somewhere else, I go. Who do you think gave him the money to start up his little business? Is that Rainbow Sheen there on the bottom?”

  Leonidas leaned against the hatchway and stuck a hand in his pocket. He wore a contemplative expression, as if he was still considering locking her up for the trip. Or maybe he was wondering if his former corporal would grow some balls and stand up to this grandmother instead of trying to bribe her.

  “I believe you,” Jasim told Maddy, figuring he had better wrap this up quickly, before Leonidas lost patience and arranged for his own transportation. If Jasim walked out on Maddy, he’d be walking out on his hopes of continued employment, too, and he needed his job. At least for now. “You’re a strong, independent woman, Maddy. You go where you want to go.”

  “Yes, I do.” She leaned back, tapping the controls. “And if you think I want to go to Dustor, you’re delusional.”

  “Please, Maddy?” Jasim set the bag of yarn down on top of her knitting basket. “I’d consider it a personal favor. And so would Leonidas. That’s why we brought a gift.”

  She looked back at Leonidas, and his eyebrows drifted upward again as she scrutinized him more thoroughly than she had before. Almost… lasciviously, Jasim thought, as her gaze lingered in certain key areas. By the suns, what kind of gift did she think Jasim had meant?

  “He’s wearing a wedding ring,” Maddy said. “And he looks like a soldier.”

  “Aren’t those things all right?”

  “I’d much rather have a gift from one of the male prostitutes you got me thinking about.”

  “I—er.” What was he supposed to say to that?

  “It’s been three years since my husband died, you know. A woman gets lonely.”

  Jasim thought Leonidas would be scandalized—or at least horrified.

  All Leonidas said was, “We ought to be able to find prostitutes on Dustor.”

  “I want a handsome, young man,” Maddy said. “A handsome, young gentleman. I’m not into the rough stuff anymore.”

  “We agree to your terms,” Leonidas said.

  Jasim rubbed a hand down his face.

  “Setting in a course for Dustor,” Maddy said.

  “What just happened?” Jasim asked Leonidas.

  “Your first bribe was insufficient,” Leonidas informed him. “You’re going to need to find her someone to knit with while we’re busy.”

  “I don’t know how to find prostitutes. I’m—” He glanced at Maddy and stopped. As far as he knew, the fact that imperial cyborgs were essentially neutered as part of their surgery wasn’t widely known, and he didn’t care to talk about it with outsiders, regardless. “I’m not familiar with Dustor’s services and amenities,” he finished, his cheeks reddening.

  “Perhaps your skip tracer friend can help,” Leonidas suggested. His eyes had that gleam in them again. Was he amused by this?

  Jasim hadn’t even thought his commander could be amused. Certainly nobody had spoken of his sense of humor when he’d been in charge of the Corps.

  “I wonder what I’d have to get the dog for that information,” Jasim muttered, rubbing his face again.

  Chapter 7

  The smell of smoke clung to Leonidas’s armor and the insides of his nostrils. Odd that it lingered here on the admiral’s ship. Odd, too, that he was noticing it now, with intense pain radiating out from his chest, throbbing with each step, or maybe with each beat of his heart. He was lucky the lance had missed his heart. From the way he was coughing up blood, he was fairly certain his left lung hadn’t been so lucky. Not surprising when the broken end of the weapon was still sticking out of his chest, still crackling faintly with the energy that had given it the power to break through his nearly indestructible armor.

  An alarm klaxon wailed in the distance, and Leonidas halted in the middle of the corridor. Had the rebels returned with more ships? Was the Stellar Dart in danger? The civilians and the wounded had been mo
ved to this ship because it was undamaged and supposedly fast enough to evade the rebel terrorists. But if it was threatened, he couldn’t continue to sickbay. He had to be ready to go back into battle.

  “Keep moving, Major,” the doctor behind him said.

  Leonidas started to look over his shoulder, but that hurt too much. He clenched his fist, annoyed with the injury.

  “Keep moving, or I’ll go find that hover gurney you refused to ride on earlier.”

  Though the alarms concerned him, Leonidas continued down the corridor. Logically, he knew he had to have the lance removed, his lung repaired, and the rest of the wound sealed before he could be effective in combat again.

  “I don’t think captains are supposed to give majors orders,” he grumbled as he walked, refusing to put his hand on the bulkhead for support, though his legs were numb, and he wasn’t sure enough oxygen was getting to them. It was probably all leaking out of his chest with his blood.

  “I’m a doctor and the head of sickbay, and you’re injured. I definitely get to give you orders. Anyone in my sickbay does, even the privates. Turn left at the intersection.”

  “I don’t need directions,” he said, annoyed when the words turned into coughs. Even if he hadn’t been aboard the Dart before, Leonidas knew the layouts of all the imperial ships in the fleet.

  “I see you’re going to be a delightful patient,” the doctor said, jogging around Leonidas to lead the way into sickbay. “Someone get me a crowbar so we can get this cyborg out of his turtle shell,” he hollered.

  This cyborg. Not this soldier. Or this man.

  Leonidas curled his lip. “I’ll get my armor off on my own,” he said, tossing his helmet onto the nearest flat surface.

  More gingerly, he removed his big assault rifle, which hung on a strap across his torso. Lifting his arm to pull it over his head tripled his pain and threatened to drop him to his knees. But he saw a couple of familiar faces in the row of beds lining the wall. Two of his own men were among the injured, Zimmer and Alvarado. They lay propped up in their beds, both staring at him. Zimmer’s shirt was off, revealing bandages wrapping his torso and burns up and down his arms. Some healing gel had already been slathered along them. Alvarado—hells, he’d lost his leg. A medical device was fastened to the stump, no doubt doing its best to mend and prepare him for a prosthetic, but he’d never be able to return to the unit.