22

X-37 was right. Frank was more than mad, he was downright furious. It wasn’t every day I saw a man trembling with righteous anger, actually shaking with the effort not to lash out. His inability to control his emotions made me uncomfortable and I wondered if he thought I was embarrassed.

“I’m sorry about Elise,” he said through gritted teeth. “But after hearing the threat you made to those men—who the news said were dead, by the way—and watching you turn downtown Zag City inside out, I can’t have you around my family. You promised to stay away.”

Frank’s voice trembled and I could hear the fear in it. Despite his fear he didn’t back down and his eyes glinted with anger as he faced me. The fact that he knew what I was, what I was capable of, and what he believed I had done today but still stood up to me earned him my respect.

I held up my hands in a gesture of peace.

“I just need an hour to put myself back together and some privacy,” I promised. “I wouldn't have come here if I had any other choice. And I didn’t do any of what you saw on the news. You know there’s a contract on Elise and it’s attracting a lot of attention.”

My words didn’t seem to have any effect on Frank and he didn’t move from the doorway. “Are you not hearing me? Get the fuck out of my building.” He jabbed an angry finger down the hall.

Behind him, his wife was just as angry. I had only paid fleeting attention to her before, noting that she was average height, with dark hair and eyes. She stood with her arms crossed and her jaw locked, but I felt a twinge of hope when her eyes seemed to soften at my sorry state.

“I told you not to get involved with this guy. But look at him. We can’t turn him out. That’ll draw more attention than just letting him do what he needs to do and leave.”

I didn’t say anything.

Frank glared at me as he thought it over. “Give me your word that as soon as you have Elise you’ll leave and never come back.”

“You have it,” I said, nodding curtly.

After a long moment he stood aside enough to let me inside.

What followed was an awkward exchange of time during which I sat across the living room from his kids, each of them watching me with wide eyes while Frank and his wife cooked food and argued in the kitchen.

After an uncomfortably silent dinner I slept in the video room in Frank's good chair and fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

When I opened my eyes the next day, I didn’t exactly feel like a million credits, but definitely better.

Seeing Frank’s family in their tiny apartment had put things in perspective. He didn't have time to take care of Elise. He certainly didn’t have the ability to fight off contract killers and Union spec ops soldiers. Or rogue Reapers. We’d been friends a long time ago when we both thought hard work paid off and nothing mattered more than honor. Knowing I’d been responsible for putting them in danger affected me deeply and I left Frank's apartment building with unusual carelessness.

I ran through the events since I first saw Byron Thane. I was sure the stranger wasn't my old semi-rival. None of us had been forced to give up both arms.

In my battered state, with all of my internal gear in revolt, I wasn't making good decisions or thinking clearly. I invented a dozen scenarios where Thane survived and dragged himself to safety to rebuild himself and plot revenge.

Laughing crazily, I wasn't sure why I found any of this funny. I used a wall for balance, moving slowly and wishing I had let Tom show me a good bridge to sleep under.

The neon lights and fireworks of the Zag City entertainment district had annoyed me, but this neighborhood was far more intimidating. There was only one streetlight on the corner. It flickered and hummed loudly.

I heard voices arguing from a window but couldn't determine the direction. A trash truck accelerated and decelerated down alleyways. The sound of drunken laughter and bottles clinking drifted on the night air.

“Are you with me, X?” I asked.

“I am here, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said, the connection strong, steady, and reassuring.

“I'm in a bind here, buddy,” I said.

X-37 chuckled, which I had almost forgotten he could do. “You haven't called me that since our early days. Your personality has shifted since then.”

“What do you know about personality?” I asked, sensing something dangerous I couldn't see.

“The rhythm and inflection of your voice tells me a great deal about your mood. Also, your word choice matters. I eventually realized there is a natural drift in the vocabulary that you utilize. It was very alarming at first.”

“What do you mean?” I was curious, but only half listening now.

“My algorithms were not adequate to handle the shift away from our early conversation style. I was not sure if you were the same person and had to consult with other limited AIs during an upgrade session at headquarters,” X-37 said.

I backed into a doorway, the alarm at what he was saying pushing aside anything I might encounter on this dark street. “What are you talking about, X? Reaper limited AIs can't talk to each other. This was made extremely clear during my training. And why is this the first time I’ve heard about the upgrading sessions at headquarters?”

“I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you,” X-37 said.

The phrase had the quality of a prerecorded message and I wasn't even sure if X-37 was aware he had said it. “Say again?”

“I was explaining that my upgrading sessions at headquarters assisted me with analyzing your personality biometrics,” X-37 said.

“Why didn't I know about these sessions before?” I asked, testing a theory.

There was a long silence followed by several clicks. “I'm sorry, Reaper Cain, did you ask a question?”

Loud voices approached and I didn’t respond. I pressed deeper into the doorway, hoping the shadows were enough to conceal me.

Bones and his two favorite henchmen led the way, better armed and more serious than the last time I saw them. They were searching for someone.

“Don't move,” X-37 said.

I wanted to laugh at the advice, and since they were passing my doorway by only a few meters, the chance of being caught if I made a sound was high.

Which of course made me want to laugh even more.

I'd had so many Reaper AI-induced headaches and body spasms at this point that I wasn't sure they ever went away entirely. My body ached from the fatigue of dealing with the pain. My stomach was in constant rebellion, trying to eat itself or empty itself, depending on which way the night breeze blew.

Bones and his crew were drinking something that smelled like rocket fuel. I felt bad for whoever they ran into. They were in a violent mood, ready to fight anyone, including each other. Crude bandages and a splint suggested they hadn’t received adequate medical attention after our last altercation.

They stopped just out of view and went disturbingly quiet. I thought they were popping some stim tabs or maybe shooting up with needles. It was hard to be certain just by the sound. All I knew was that they weren't laughing and joking and bragging about all the people they were gonna beat up and women they're going to get with.

“And remember, you stinking fuck holes, we see that freak, we rush in hard. No mercy,” Bones jeered drunkenly.

His crew cheered.

When they were about one hundred meters beyond my position and carrying on like a bunch of drunken and doped-up assholes, I slipped quietly from my hiding place and went the other direction.

“I don't like the way this feels,” I muttered to X-37.

“Tactical retreat is a perfectly valid option in many circumstances,” X-37 said. “Shall I refrain from calling you a gutless punk for not committing suicide?”

“I could still take them. It wouldn’t be a suicide mission,” I asserted, despising my defensive tone even as the words left my mouth.

“My analysis suggests it would be a mistake to test that theory,” X-37 said.

Breaking contact with an enemy was something taught during basic infantry training. Bones and his crew moved further away, never looking back. Despite their fierceness, they'd never do well against soldiers. I couldn't tell if they watched their flanks, but they did nothing to protect their rearguard.

I moved slowly, careful not to draw their attention. A dog barked when I passed but slunk away when I looked at it. The single streetlight on the corner flickered. I disappeared into the shadows.

It took me nearly an hour to work my way back to the spaceport. The place was even more austere than I remembered. There weren't guards, service crews, or civilians loitering near the gate.

X-37 opened it for me.

“How is it that the Union doesn't monitor this spaceport?” I asked.

“Someone has paid substantial bribes to make this a smugglers’ hub,” X-37 answered. “Our encounters with Bones and those like him misrepresent the sophistication of the criminal element on Greendale. The assassins’ guild is a better representation, but not the total picture.”

“Well, I learn something every day,” I said with a bit more sarcasm than was strictly necessary.

“Zag City is as complex as any place in the Union or the Deadlands. We could spend a lifetime here and only learn a fraction of what it has to offer,” X-37 lectured.

“Where are you pulling your data from, X, a travel brochure?” I asked, moving across the tarmac to my ship. The ramp lowered and I boarded, feeling a sense of relief I hadn't experienced for a long time.

In general, Reapers didn't have their own ships. They needed to travel light and be able to drop everything for the sake of a mission.

But I wasn't a Reaper anymore. I was something else, a rogue or outlaw perhaps. But even those definitions seemed inaccurate. What I was, was a man with a score to settle and all of the tools I needed to do it violently.

“Welcome aboard, Captain,” Jelly said brightly. “How was your trip to the city?”

“Do you want to answer that, X?” I asked, working my way to the locker room to strip out of my dirty clothing and take a shower. I rummaged through my pockets but didn't find what I was looking for. Then I remembered the cops had taken my cigars.

That was a shame, because I was starting to grow attached to the cheap Gronic Fats. I doubted they were sold off-world and I didn't plan to return to that gloomy place.

As much as I wanted to take a long, luxurious shower, I went through the basics like I was getting called to drill by an angry sergeant. I dressed, thankful that I had no more attacks from my Reaper hardware. “I've got a question, X,” I said.

“I can't wait to answer it,” X-37 said.

“Can you block the ROS with Jelly’s help?”

X-37 sounded pleased when he gave me the answer. “Yes, we certainly can. With our combined power and the shielding of the ship, I can block the ROS.”

I relaxed and went to the bridge. The hallways were narrow, the ceiling short, and it was already feeling like home. The door to the bridge opened. I entered and lowered myself carefully into the pilot seat.

“Okay, Jelly, I’ve got a job for you,” I said.

“What can I do for you, Captain?” she asked.

“I'd like you to check with spaceports and see if Elise or this unknown Reaper have left the planet,” I said.

“My design allows me better manipulation of ship logs and travel manifests,” Jelly said. “Tracking individuals is more of a job for X-37.”

“Work together,” I suggested. “I'll do what I can on my workstation just in case your combined computing power overlooks something a little human random guessing might put together.”

Some time passed. I shifted in my seat, already tightening up from my recent efforts. The workout I had performed before going to Zag City was also hitting me.

“Are you ready for an update, Captain?” Jelly asked.

“Hit me,” I said.

“Captain?” Jelly seemed confused and a bit alarmed.

“He means give him the answer,” X-37 provided.

“We believe we have confirmed that Elise has not left Greendale. However, for us to conclusively predict and foil any future attempts would take all of our combined processing power.”

“Do what you can,” I said.

“You may have to live without us for a time, Captain,” Jelly said. “It's a big job and Greendale has a surprising level of black-market access to the Gal-net. That, in combination with the ROS you encountered, makes it difficult for us to interact with you in real time when you're on the planet, even on the ship to a certain extent.”

“Fine. I could use some personal space anyway,” I said, not really meaning it. Now that I was faced with the prospect of going it alone, I wished X and Jelly could be my constant companions.

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