Girl From Above #3: Trapped (11 page)

Her warbird sat snugly between us and the Candes, buying us time. After everything I’d done, everything we’d been through, she was helping me.
I’m not your enemy.

“Fran, follow us through.” The dome pressure locks filled the obs window. If she tucked in close behind us, she might have a chance to get her warbird through, but then the Candes would know she’d played them. If she didn’t make it, they’d tear into her.

“Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll be seeing you soon. Warbirds don’t take prisoners.”

Bren eased
Starscream
into the transit area, but in my head, I saw Fran. I imagined her at the warbird’s controls with the biggest fucking smile on her face. Holy fuck, she was really alive. And to my battered morals, that meant more than I cared to admit. “Fran?”

“Yes, Captain.”

I wet my lips and met Bren’s gaze. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“You can’t keep a bad gal down, Cale.” She cut the link.

The transit grapples snagged
Starscream.
Four booms sounded through the hull, and then we were dragged toward the gaping dome-lock chamber.

I told Bren I’d monitor our passage through, which basically meant: fuck off outta the bridge while I talk to Fran in private. Bren told me to be careful and left to check on the doc. I hailed the warbird again, making sure to code in a secure link.

“Yes, Cale?”

I wanted to reach through the comms and yell at her, demand she tell me everything about the foxes, about fleet withdrawing, about the Candes’ plan for me, but more than anything, I wanted to know if she was okay. Really okay. Asgard had fucked me up for the longest time. How was she even back in a flight chair, just weeks after I’d abandoned her? The shit she must’ve gone through. The things she must’ve done.

“When we next meet, I’ll buy you a drink. Reckon we got some stories to share.”

“There ain’t nothing left to say, Captain. Safe sailing.”

“Wait … Fran.”
I’m sorry.
Fuck, I couldn’t say it. Her crew could be standing beside her. But what if this was the last chance I got? Surely the fact that we were back in the same airspace meant this fucked-up universe had deemed it to be this way? “Is it luck, you being here?”

I heard her laugh, soft and luscious. “Luck? You don’t believe in luck. Lyra is about to close its locks to all external traffic. Fleet comms are down. Watch your news feeds, Cale, and be ready. Are we done here?”

“Not by a long shot.”

“Another time, Cale.”

“It’s a date.”

The comms fell silent. Despite Fran stabbing me in the back and that little issue of her lying to me for two years, I was damn happy to know I hadn’t killed her, even if she was now a Cande mercenary. Maybe shit was looking up.

The passage through Lyra’s lock went without a hitch and we were back-in-black. I boosted
Starscream
toward the nearest jumpgate and fell back into my flight chair.

The next move seemed obvious—get the fuck out of the system—and I had a destination in mind. After my last comms chat with Creet, the Nine would be waiting, but it wouldn’t be plain sailing. Somewhere in the chaos of the last few hours, I’d made my decision. Probably around the time One had asked me when I’d stop running. I was going to tell her everything. Her, me, the doc, and Bren would figure it out. I was done lying to her, lying to them all. The stunt with the male synthetic and the camera feeds proved she knew how to lay down her own brand of synth-crazy. She’d deal with the Nine. I couldn’t stop her and didn’t want to.

For the first time in a long time, doubt didn’t riddle my thoughts. Telling her the truth was the right thing to do. For once, my heart and my head were in agreement.

The bridge hatch rattled. I turned my chair just enough to see how Bren’s lips were set in a grim line.

“Caleb-Joe, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What the fuck for? We’re free of the Candes …” Instincts twisted a knot of nerves in my gut. The goddamn sorrow in his eyes told me the truth. I knew in my bones—the same way I’d known I’d shot Ade—that in this moment, this second between one breath and the next, everything would change.

I was on my feet with no memory of moving.

My brother braced a hand against the door seal, blocking my exit. “Just listen. Don’t do anything stupid.”

I didn’t want to hear it. Whatever he said next would fuck everything up. I squared up to him. “Let me through.”

“Cale, just … just hear him out.”

“Get out of my way.”

“We knew it was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.”

No, I wasn’t listening. I clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Bren, move.”

His eyes glistened with too much moisture and the tight press of his lips quivered.

“She made you a better person. Don’t waste it—”

I had my forearm under his chin, forcing him back against the bulkhead before he could lift a hand to stop me. The worse part was that his eyes weren’t challenging me. They understood.

I made it down the catwalk while One’s most recent words whirred in my head. I’d told her not to be Haley, and she’d said sorry. Synths didn’t say sorry. Why would they? They never made mistakes.
I wish we had more time.

I stopped in Fran’s cabin doorway, hands braced on either side. One was lying still on the bunk, same as when I’d seen the doc working on her. “Tell me she’s fine.”

Lloyd lifted his gaze from his datapad, set it gently aside, and slowly got to his feet. “There was nothing I could do. Her code unraveled too quickly.”

But she looked the same. “You said you could fix her.” I wanted to go to her but couldn’t move.
She sleeps with her eyes open.

“I said I’d try. Without the proper equipment—”

“You’re Chitec, so fix her. Reboot her. Wake her up. Bring her back.”

“She is awake. This is a synthetic’s waking state. She’s effectively a blank slate waiting for commands.”

My smile masked how his words cut through me. Why wasn’t One telling me that my vital signs indicated emotional stress or asking me if her nonresponsive state frightened me?
She looks dead, like a corpse.
“She’s just fucking programming. Reprogram her.”

“Captain, we both know that’s not possible. One was unique.”

“So what are you telling me? That she’s gone? That whatever made her real was somehow erased?”

‘Does the past ever leave us?

It is always there. It is who you are.

Not you. You could erase yours.

But then who would I be?’

It had been easy to believe she was a machine. It made sense: a machine with the memories of a girl. I’d built that wall of convenient lies to keep the truth out, when all I’d had to do was believe. She was real. She was alive. She’d been more human than the rest of us. “You fix her, and you do it now.”

“Captain, I can’t.”

The door seals creaked as my grip tightened. “You’re going to fix her, or I’m going to fix you. Do you understand?”

Color flushed in his cheeks. “Threatening me won’t make a difference. She’s gone. One no longer exists. She’s a blank synthetic, waiting for her donor’s download.”

“Get out.”

“W-what?”

“Get out of this cabin.”

He blinked.

I curled my hand into a fist. “Fucking move!”

After slamming the door behind him, I stood over One. She’d always had that machine stillness about her, but that wasn’t all she’d been. Her bright, ice-blue eyes—open and unfocused—didn’t look real. I’d seen synths like this before, lined up in orderly rows inside a Chitec warehouse, silent and vacant. I hated synthetics, hated Chitec and Chen Hung, but I’d never hated One. Not even after she’d punched me in the balls or shot me in the head.

“One.” I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to touch her cool face. Her eyes, as penetrating as they were, might as well have been glass for all the soul in them. “You’re still in there,” I said quietly. The rumble of
Starscream’s
engines would hide my voice from Bren and the doc. “You know how I know that?” I pressed my palm against her cheek.
So cold.
“You’ll never let them win. Even when you know the odds are against you, you always fight. You’re more than code, more than Haley’s memories. You’re One Thousand And One and you’re fucking amazing.” I brushed my thumb across her cool lips. “Somewhere in there, you’re alive. You didn’t leave me under the dock on Mimir, and you’re not leaving me now, do you hear? I’m giving you an order, synth. Reboot or do whatever the fuck you have to do to come back, but don’t you let them win. Ever.”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to happen. I searched her glassy eyes for any sign she was awake, but they didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t do any-fucking-thing.

“One, please … just give me a sign you’re in there.” I clasped her face in my hands. “This isn’t how it ends.”
It can’t be.

Bren squeezed my shoulder. “We’re approaching the jumpgate.” I hadn’t even heard him enter the cabin.

She wasn’t coming back. The first time around had been a miracle, and now the universe was fucking with me all over again. Cool, controlled anger slid through me. I’d had enough of the nine systems screwing me over.

I let her go and stood. Bren’s hand fell away. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t stand to see the finality on his face. This wasn’t over. She’d started a revolution, and it wouldn’t end with her.

<
R
eboot initialized
. Scanning root directory. Default file found. Master processes engaged. Unpacking data. Donor packet: file not found. Initialize default start-up processes. Reboot complete>

I
t’s not over
.

“I want in, Creet.”

“You’re a liability.”

Mimir’s ocean air wet my face and dampened my hair. We’d been out on the deck at the back of a beach hut bar since dusk. The Mimir night sky glowed a deep turquoise. I should’ve been cold but didn’t feel much of anything. I couldn’t even taste the fucking alcohol. I’d been numb since the doc had told me One was gone—since I’d seen her lying cold and dead in Fran’s old cabin—less than twenty-four hours ago.

Creet leaned an arm against the rail, his back to the endless sea. He took a drink from his bottle of beer and looked at me like Bren used to, like I was a hopeless dreamer. Like he was
sorry
I was such a failure.

I slouched in the wooden chair and propped my boots up on the table. Bren would be waiting for me back on
Starscream
, but I wasn’t leaving Mimir until I got my answers. Behind me, tucked under the bar’s overhang, a newsfeed played footage of the Lyra riots over and over. Everyone was asking:
Where is fleet?
I knew where, and so did Fran. They’d run back to base with their tails between their legs. But why now? Was it because of Tarik and One’s showdown? Chitec would certainly have many worried shareholders. I couldn’t do anything about the events in the original system, but for the Nine? I could do something for them.

“Why did the Nine spring me from Asgard, Creet?”

He looked like he might shrug but paused when he saw my jaw clench. “They knew you had an axe to grind with Chen Hung. You were a high-ranking fleet officer. You had valuable skills. You an’ half a dozen other folks they’ve got smuggling for them.”

“That’s it, huh?” I took a drink from my now-warm beer. “I’m just another smuggler to them. No other reason?”

Creet ran a hand through his wet salt-and-pepper hair and dragged it down his neck. “Kid, I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

“So the fact I knew Chen Hung was just a conversation starter?”

“I don’t know any more than you do. If it were me, I’d have ditched you long ago. You cause more trouble than you fix. But they ain’t me, and they’re keeping you on, so maybe there is more to it.”

I didn’t buy his middleman routine and made sure he saw my scowl. “Did they tell you anything about the package I brought with me?”

“Just that it was a priority and I was to help you any way I could.” He arched an eyebrow. “How did you get
Starscream
through the Lyra domelocks?” He nodded at the newsfeed still babbling behind me. “No folks in or out is what I heard. I wasn’t sure the Nine’s instructions would reach the lock controllers in time.”

Was Fran one of those stuck on Lyra, fraternizing with Cande pirates? I bet she had them by the balls too, and I smiled at the thought. What was Ade’s brother called? Turner? The pirate who’d nearly blown me, my crew, and
Starscream
to bits. Poor guy. He had no idea he had a viper in his nest. I’d been there and could relate. “Enemies in high places.”

Behind me, the bar pumped out an Old Earth western tune, something about red paint and blue jeans, but my mood didn’t lift. One would tell me grief was perfectly normal, like I was supposed to embrace the pain or something. Fuck, I missed her.

Creet’s curious sidelong glance was full of questions. “I’ve never met anyone who plays the nine systems quite like you, kid. I can’t decide if you’re an idiot, surviving by blind luck alone, or if everything you do is deliberate, making you some kind of criminal genius.”

I smiled and tipped my beer bottle just enough to let him know I’d heard him loud and clear. “You know as well as I do, there ain’t no luck in the nine systems.”

“Only the bad kind.” He turned his head, looking across the bay to the burned-out warehouses fleet had blasted to bits during my last visit.

“Amen to that.” I upended my beer and drank it down. Maybe if I drank enough, it’d fill the emptiness. I couldn’t get wasted. Not yet. I still had a job to do. Cargo to deliver. Answers to get.

I pressed the cool bottle against my temple. “Give the Nine a message. If they want the package, I want answers.”

He rubbed his forehead, his face twisting into a weary frown. “They aren’t big on conversation.”

Last time I’d seen them, they’d had Fran on her knees with a pistol pressed to her head. They’d been right about her. They seemed to know a lot more than the average folks in the nine systems. I was done being their pack mule and hiding in the backwaters. I had information the Nine could use, so long as I knew they’d be using it to screw over Chen Hung.

“No answers. No deal.”

‘
Y
ou can’t
!

Watch me.’

Lloyd had uncharacteristically exploded when I’d told him I was taking #1001 to the Nine. I couldn’t say punching him out hadn’t felt good though. He’d had it coming.

Standing inside the burned-out, roofless shell of the warehouse, I flexed my bruised right hand. I probably hadn’t needed to put so much weight behind that right hook.

#1001 stood cool and immobile behind me. The doc had been right about her being a blank slate. On my order, she’d followed me like a fucking shadow, equally blank and unresponsive. I couldn’t look at her. I hated it. Hated what she’d become. If Lloyd couldn’t get One back, then I wanted her remains as far away from me as possible. The empty synth body was fucking with my head.

“Captain Shepperd,” a male voice boomed through the quiet.

They came through the back door. Nine hooded men, and I assumed women too, although in the Mimir half-dark, it was difficult to tell. Always nine. What was up with that? There had to be more of them, and I doubted it was the same nine each time, so why bother? Why not make it three or five?

I nodded a greeting, keeping my hands loose at my sides. I’d come armed, but with the pistol holstered in plain sight. A concealed weapon—if they spotted it—would be worse than showing my wares from the get-go.

The Nine fanned out in a V shape, heads bowed enough to hide their faces. Their speaker came forward. “This is the synthetic unit one thousand and one?”

I could see a clean-shaven chin, but little else. He had to be a foot taller than me. The robes hid much of his outline—big and muscular, maybe. I couldn’t tell if he was at the top of the social pecking order or a bottom dweller like me. They sure did make it hard to identify them.

“That she is,” I replied. My voice echoed into the empty space around us. I skimmed the shadows for any sign of movement, not expecting trouble but looking for it all the same. “Before I hand her over, I want some answers.”

All Nine of them stood just as silent and still as the synth behind me. A warm, wet breeze carried the sounds of the revelry going on in the bars hugging the beach, but otherwise, the night was a quiet one, very different from the storm that had raged before.

“What do you want her for?”

“We don’t answer to you, Captain.” Clean teeth flashed behind a thin smile.

“Well, maybe you should. I have information about the Chitec synthetics that I think you could use.”

“And what do you want for this information?”

“Tell me what you’re going to do with One.”

I expected them to confer, maybe huddle and discuss it, but they didn’t move.

The big man said, “Don’t you mean one thousand and one?”

“Whatever.”

“Do you have a personal connection to this unit?”

“Not anymore.”

He paused, perhaps contemplating my worth, how much to tell me, and how much trouble I could start. The breeze tugged a little on his robes. “We believe the synthetics are not what they appear to be. We’ll study this unit, strip it down, examine what we can, and see if we can find anything unusual in its construction.”

Dismantle her.
I wished I hadn’t asked and forced a smile on my lips. “I already know they aren’t what they appear to be.”

Mister Speaker lifted his head. The light revealed a scarred cheek. “How do you know this?”

“Chen Hung has other secrets. If you want to bring him and Chitec down, I can help.”

“How?”

“Let me in. I’m done running guns from one corner of the nine to the other. I’m ex-fleet. I was a high-ranking officer—”

“A decorated captain in an overtaxed fleet whose more experienced officers were killed in the last years of the Blackout. Yes, we know what you
were
, Caleb.”

I bristled but swallowed the urge to defend myself. “I have connections that can help you.”

“Dubious connections garnered from criminal activity.”

“You’d be surprised what living with bottom feeders nets you. Have you tried surviving in the black?” He canted his head, and I imagine, in the shadow of his hood, his eyes had probably narrowed. “I’m more than just a smuggler. I can be more to you.”

“You’re also volatile, prone to knee-jerk decisions, and unreliable.”

“I’m entirely reliable, for the right cause.” Mostly credits, but he didn’t need to know that.

“And what’s to say you won’t lose interest in our cause?”

“Because the only thing that’s kept me going, the only damn thing I give a shit about in the nine, is ruining Chen Hung, same as you, right?”

“This isn’t just about Chen Hung, Shepperd. Chitec controls the nine systems. It controls the gates and fleet. We’re attempting to free the nine systems by breaking Chitec’s chokehold and redistributing the wealth of the few to the poverty-stricken many. The nine systems deserve to be free.”

“I know that. Count me in. Sign me up. Whatever I gotta do, I’m there.”

“And should someone offer you more credits for information on us?”

“It’s not all about credits. I was someone once. And okay, that someone was a selfish asshole, but people change. I’ve changed. Tell me how I can prove it and I will.”

“You promised us a freighter and failed to deliver.”

Man, that damn freighter. I’d never live that down. “I had it, but … yeah, okay, I made mistakes.” I opened my arms in a shrug and grinned. “I trusted someone, so sue me.”

“You trusted your second in command, a woman we’d already told you was an undercover fleet operative.”

They knew more about my comings and goings than I did. “I thought I could handle her. I was wrong. Look, the past doesn’t matter. I can do more for you than shuttle your contraband. I’m not saying my methods are pretty, but you must have room for someone who can do the jobs that are, shall we say, morally ambiguous?” I needed them to say yes. I was standing on the precipice, looking into the dark. If they turned me away, I had nothing left. I’d fall, and fall hard. A bottle of whiskey and a few hits of
phencyl
would be enough to silence everything—for good.

The Mimir air had settled around us. A mist had rolled in off the sea, bringing with it a light drizzle. I resisted the urge to turn and look at #1001, knowing her face would be blank. Had she been in there, I reckoned she would have approved of my actions.

“This synthetic unit is special.” A quick glance at her dead eyes and I knew I had to do this; I had to make them believe in me. “You already know that, or you wouldn’t have asked me to hand
Haley
over. But I’m guessing you don’t know how special.”

“And you do?”

I had to give them something to show how serious I was. It meant revealing the truth to nine faceless strangers, but what difference did it make? I was running out of places to hide. The Nine had to be better custodians of my secrets than I was. “Chitec made one more, breaking all the rules, but she’s not a synthetic. At least, she wasn’t. She was unique.”

“How so?” Mister Speaker came forward and, to my surprise, lowered his hood. He stood facing #1001, a frown etched into his weathered face. He had that bedraggled world-weary look of the men who’d seen the last days of the Blackout. Old Earth, I guessed, judging by his darker sunbaked skin tone. He withdrew a rectangular scanning device from inside his robe, circled behind #1001, and held the device against the Chitec mark on the back of her neck.

“Chen Hung downloaded his daughter’s dataprint into this synthetic. The
life-ever-after
program is a con, but it worked, just once. Haley Hung’s memories lived inside this unit, and she knew the truth.”

“What truth, Captain?” He kept his eyes on #1001 and his expression neutral. He knew #1001 had a connection to Haley, but he couldn’t know it all.

“Chen Hung killed his daughter. I watched him do it. It’s why I got tossed into Asgard in the first place. He’d hoped I’d die there and his secret would die with me.” No reaction. Fuck, what did it take to ruffle this guy?

“Why would he kill his own daughter?”

“Because Haley saw what the synthetics are. All one thousand are killing machines. I’m assuming you saw the footage from Lyra. The murdering synth bastard? That was one synth doing exactly as he’d been ordered to do. They’re sleeper agents, placed in positions of power. Government officials, the social elite. They’re all at the top, ready to flick the switch on the whim of one man.”

That got his attention. He turned his head to me, his frown cutting deeper. “And this unit has the evidence?”

“Did have. She er …” I winced at the hitch in my voice. “She developed a fault, and we can’t reboot her. We tried, but … it was too late. Her secrets died with her. But it’s the truth. I went to Asgard for it. Doc Lloyd will confirm the synth’s failure.”

“Who?”

“I have a Chitec doctor on my crew. He did everything he could.”

“I see …” He checked the eight others. One nodded. Apparently that was all the discussion they needed. Facing #1001, he said, “Synthetic?”

“Yes,” she replied, her tone dead flat.

I rubbed a hand across my mouth and chin and stared at the rubble-strewn floor while my insides squirmed at her machine-like obedience.

“Do you recall any of the information you’ve just heard Captain Shepperd tell us?

“I have no memory of those events, or any event preceding fifteen hundred hours.”

“Did you deliberately erase her memory banks?” he asked me.

I couldn’t even muster a smile at that. “No. I would’ve done anything to keep her.” He could put two and two together; I certainly wasn’t spelling it out for him.