2

I decided not to push my luck with Elise. We’d had a good laugh after I nearly hurled myself into the void, but that didn’t mean she’d stop being angry that I’d nearly gotten myself killed. Slipping into the void was the scariest idea imaginable, one of the few things I’ve feared more than heights. The thought of spinning into the darkness was one of my recurring nightmares. The only good thing was that decompression and extreme cold would kill me before I went far. Without oxygen, I’d lose consciousness and freeze to death. As for exploding and feeling my blood boil, I thought that was a myth propagated by poorly researched action holos.

“Hey, X,” I said, “can you remind me to practice with the EVA suits, especially the part where I put one on as quickly as possible?”

“Of course, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “I’ll add it to your much-neglected list.”

“I think it’s time to lay Byron Thane II to rest. Make an announcement, but emphasize that attendance is not required,” I said.

“Jelly has made the announcement,” X-37 soon advised.

The pod that contained the body of Byron Thane was already in the airlock next to the one I’d almost thrown myself out of. Maybe that was where I’d been going when the Reaper mask malfunctioned. But maybe not.

Thinking about the son of my old rival and what I’d done wasn’t exactly a feel-good fest. The young Reaper had more in common with me than I wanted to admit. The Union served us both a buffet bar of crap and we had to eat our fill.

I stood for a long time over the pod. It wasn’t a proper casket. Funerals at space were usually a big deal in the Union fleet. I’d never served in the Union Fleet but had been attached to various ships. Unfortunately, there had been a lot of funerals before I lost my arm and started down my dark path.

“I should say something before we do this,” I told X-37.

“Jelly has advised me that Elise and Tom are on their way to participate,” X-37 said.

I waited until they arrived and then began without a word. The window to the pod was darkened against radiation. It wasn’t necessary to see out or in, but humans had a way of putting windows in things that didn’t need them. We were all a little bit claustrophobic, I thought.

No one said anything. Elise and Tom silently took their places. The girl had toned down her attitude, pulled her tight hair into a braid, and changed into a jumpsuit. Tom had cleaned up well too, even going so far as to shave and brush his hair. He’d come a long way from sleeping on park benches and under bridges.

Since we hadn’t been able to scrounge up a space casket, X-37 had frozen Byron Thane inside the pod. He was still wearing the KFA for two reasons.

One, I’d never liked the gear. It was complete overkill and about as subtle as a hand grenade going off. I didn't need it when I already had my sparkling personality to send a message. It did, however, make appropriate funeral garb for the faux Reaper.

Two, it was coded to Thane. With the trouble I’d already experienced with the mask, I wasn’t willing to risk my fingers on something I didn’t want to use anyway. Some of the KFA blades had activated when I carried the body onto the Jellybird, forcing me to juggle the young, dead Reaper imposter. The scene had been both macabre and ridiculous.

“It is customary to say a few words of remembrance,” X-37 reminded me.

I was the absolute worst person to officiate a funeral. X-37 and my companions knew it but didn’t say anything. The mood in the room was somber despite the fact that this fake Reaper had tried to kill me and kidnap Elise. Each time I reviewed my mission to Greendale, I was struck by the fact that it could have gone much differently.

Byron Thane II had been young and lonely. If he’d treated Elise like a target instead of becoming infatuated with her, I wouldn’t have stood a chance. The son of my old rival made one bad choice after another, starting with his attempt to pit the Union against the assassin’s guild on Greendale. It was the type of thing that looked good on a planning board but never worked out in reality.

He had found himself too deep in the assassin’s guild stronghold and burdened himself with keeping Elise alive.

I’d made similar mistakes in the past, but I didn’t want to think about them. Sometimes it was better to be lucky than good.

Touching the window to the escape pod, I decided I wouldn’t say anything, but then did the complete opposite.

“I knew your father. Since he’s dead and you’re dead, and all of the Reapers are gone, I’ll admit he was the best… or at least the most dangerous of us,” I said, unsure of how to continue.

“Byron Thane was in fact far superior to you as measured by all metrics recorded by the Reaper Corps. Perhaps you should begin again. My search of human psychology texts suggests that mourning is an important part of the human journey,” X-37 said.

“Not now, X.” I really wanted to curse at my LAI but held myself in check.

“I was only trying to help.”

I ignored the annoying little bastard. What did either of us know about grieving? The entire point of the Reaper Corps training was to eliminate behavioral restrictions. They had wanted me to be a cold-blooded murderer, and I’d not done a bad job of it.

“I don’t want to be a Reaper anymore,” I said to the life pod.

“Dishonesty detected,” X-37 whispered.

“Shut. The fuck. Up. X,” I said. What I had said was true, but it was also against my nature. The road to hell was paved with good intentions.

Pale and nervous, Elise and Tom looked like they wanted to disappear.

I realized something then. The ceremony wasn't about them, or even Byron Thane II. I had to face my past if I was going to change. X-37 wasn't wrong, but he wasn't right either.

Consciously, I wanted to be done with this life. Subconsciously, it was who I was. Should I resist the darkness within me, or just embrace it?

* * *

A little while after my awkward eulogy, Tom took his usual seat. I moved around the observation deck gathering the essentials. One wall of the room was a view screen that displayed whatever was outside of the ship. Slip tunnel travel was always spectacular—the view screens full of vibrant green energy. When we were deep in the void beyond a slip tunnel, it magnified points of interest so that we didn’t have to look at a wall of darkness.

Unless I felt like staring into the black void, which happened from time to time. But never with company.

I poured Tom a fresh whisky and handed him a cigar from the humidor we’d put together after he joined the crew.

“Thanks, Hal,” Tom said.

He called me Hal, which took some getting used to. It was nice.

I handed him an earbud.

“What’s this?” he asked. “I mean, I know what it is, but are you sure you want to allow me to listen in?”

“Might make things easier. I can always mute you from my conversations with X-37. Trust me, there will be times when you beg me to spare you the LAI’s chatter,” I said.

“Perhaps he should form his own opinion of my witty banter,” X-37 said.

Tom inserted the device into his ear, wiggling it until it was invisible. “Testing, testing. One, two, three, testing. Can you hear me, X-37?”

“Loud and clear,” my limited AI advised.

“I haven’t given one to Elise yet, but I will before we get to Roxo.” I exhaled, stressed about letting the young woman talk directly to X-37. They would probably gang up on me.

“Do you want to talk about what you said at the funeral?” Tom asked.

I pretended he hadn’t said anything. The strange moment of remorse was in the past and I needed to focus on interrogation. Getting into the proper mindset could be difficult, even for a Reaper. I needed to be remorseless. Accepting Tom’s empathy would interfere with this interview.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Tom said, shifting in his seat and looking toward the door—probably because he was wondering if he could escape if this went bad.

“You never told me how you met Elise,” I began, my expression devoid of emotion.

"We met at the diner," Tom answered. His body language suggested there was more to his story and that he wasn't sure how to say it. His posture suggested he sensed a change between us. I respected the fact that he hadn’t broken before we started. Not many people could withstand an interview with a Reaper knowing that a painful interrogation had to come next. Interview and interrogation were definitely not the same thing.

But I didn’t want to hurt my friend Tom.

I waited patiently, aware that silence could draw out more from an interview than clever words ever would. Patience mattered. Watching his body language was going to be as important as listening to his words.

"I could see how hard she worked," he continued, exhaling as tension left him. Perhaps he had decided to just spill the truth, or maybe he had just found a comfortable place in which he could talk. "I came in before and after my shift. On the way, I needed the coffee to get me going, and on the way back, I had enough credits to eat."

I tapped the index and middle fingers of my right hand against my left wrist, a signal for X-37 to pay close attention and record the interaction in real time.

Tom smiled as though remembering something painful but poignant. "To be honest, I stayed as much as I could because it was warmer than sleeping on the street."

"When did you realize there was a contract out for her capture?" I asked.

"About a week before you showed up. A few locals came by asking about her. Jimmy ran them off, roughed a couple of them up pretty good."

"That doesn't sound like Jimmy," I said, remembering the beefy man who had trembled in fear when standing up for Elise. He had good reason to be afraid, because Michaels and Olathe had been truly dangerous.

"Jimmy's a lot meaner than he looks. He came up through the streets. Someone his size was practically required to be an enforcer. He took the money he earned and got out of the business pretty quickly, starting a food stand years ago. Eventually, it became his diner." Tom paused. "He had that safe room built, which almost worked. Olathe wouldn't have been able to blow it if the concrete had cured properly. It was a rush job."

"I don't disagree," X-37 said to me privately.

I let him ramble, talking about days spent in the diner and how his relationship with Jimmy and Elise had grown.

When I thought the time was right, I shifted gears, focusing on my suspicions. "You did a great job fixing my arm."

He went silent, shifting uncomfortably.

"And you almost snuck up on me in that alley when we first met," I said.

"You learn to live without being seen when you're homeless," he said, and I sensed at least partial truth in his words.

"Sure," I said. "But why don't you tell me the rest of it?”

He leaned closer, showing his earnestness. "I have Union training, but only at a basic level. You have to believe me. I can fix almost anything that's mechanical, because that's what I do. It's the way I think. All of my spare time is spent learning about things like that."

I kept my eyes focused on him, giving him nothing back.

"Your Reaper hardware can do more than you realize,” he continued. “I can see its potential but don't have the skill or the tools to make those types of modifications, at least not yet. As for the rest, your eye and other things, I don't know what to do with those."

"Okay," I said. He probably expected a long list of questions and cross examination. Knowing him as well as I did now, I decided to let him stew for a while. If he was planning to act against me, he would give himself away before long.

"There’s something else," Tom said. "I don't just read instruction manuals—other things interest me, like history books and news reports. Thesis papers. I’ve found things related to the Reaper program in some of the stranger academic side tunnels I’ve wandered down."

"Like what?" I asked, only mildly interested. This wasn't his dark secret. I could feel him relaxing like this was familiar and safe territory. I wasn't about to learn something about his past or his motivations. Still, the Reaper angle was intriguing, so I let him keep going.

"I found mentions of Reaper facilities. It took a lot of work, but these were plans for facilities, if you get my meaning."

"I don't," I said, even though I knew exactly where he was going with this.

"I have some ideas about where they might have to situate this type of facility, at least to slip tunnels they would take to get there. Maybe if Jelly and X-37 could help me, we could find a place where I could really help you. A true laboratory with all of the tools and materials needed to not only fix your Reaper gear but improve upon it—with Jelly and X-37’s help. Or better yet, a real engineer. I’m good with tools, but the cybernetic stuff takes actual training. Can’t learn that from books—unless you want me to practice on you a lot."

“Calm down, Tom. No need to be nervous.” I poured Tom another shot of whisky, then went back to my chair and sat down. There was a lot to think about and there were decisions to be made.

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