Trapped with the Cyborg Page 9

  “Like you got your head caught in a rotor. Here, let me fix it.” With the tool and with much more gentleness than she had used, he trimmed the shaggy ends. Then he picked up the hair and stuffed it into his pocket.

  She arched her eyebrows.

  “If you went to all this trouble, there’s no sense alerting them you cut your hair.” Lifting the corner of the mattress, he shoved the discarded robe underneath.

  “When they find the younger one near naked, they’ll still know we stole his uniform,” she said.

  Sonny eyed the unconscious guards. “You’re right. Let’s supply another possible explanation. Help me undress the other one.”

  “They’ll assume the two of them—homosexuality is a crime on Lamis-Odg.”

  “The alternative is they figure out you’re dressed as a man. Cross-dressing is a crime, too.”

  Them or us. Those were the sole choices. They were fleeing for their lives in enemy territory, but implicating the guards in a crime they hadn’t committed seemed wrong somehow. It bothered her more than killing Kilead.

  But given the limited options… “All right,” she agreed. Perhaps the guards would wake up before they were discovered.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sneaking through the compound compared to tiptoeing through a nest of vipers, Sonny thought. One wrong move, and it would be all over. Security had increased, transforming the halls to a military zone.

  The number of guards on duty has doubled, he commented. Provided they stayed side by side, wireless communication could occur. But interplanetary transmissions were blocked. They’d both signaled Carter again without success.

  At least double, she replied. And the soldiers seem a little…twitchy.

  He watched for signs of trouble, a pointed finger, a frown, a glance of recognition. Nobody seemed focused on them, but everyone appeared edgy in general. Armed and twitchy. Just the traits you wanted in enemy combatants. I’ll feel better when we clear the residence.

  I’ll feel better when I’m off the planet.

  Me, too. You fake calm well.

  Thank you, she said. Have to admit, if not for my nanos, my heart would be leaping out of my chest.

  He wore the same clothing he’d arrived in. Dressed as a male guard, Amanda had adopted an arrogant swagger and a menacing scowl. Appropriating the uniform had been smart. As a civilian man and a woman, they couldn’t have paraded through the compound with weapons, not even on a good day. With the entire compound on alert, they would have been blasted before they’d gotten halfway down the corridor. However, an armed guard with a civilian in custody passed muster.

  In the grand foyer, soldiers, civilians, and a few women crowded around a platform. Out of the shimmering air, a holographic image of Sorviq, the aide and brother, solidified.

  Sorviq’s head pivoted. The hair on Sonny’s nape prickled as the hologram’s gaze slid over him. Holy crap, he looks solid.

  Too real. There’s a certain irony in how they use modern technology to promote archaic beliefs.

  “Glory to the Great One and Lamani his Prophet and Incarnate!” Sorviq intoned.

  “Glory to the Great One…” repeated the crowd.

  Let’s get the hell out of here, she said.

  Wait a sec. Let’s hear what he has to say. They needed to know what they were up against.

  All right. But, let’s not hang around very long.

  Agreed.

  “Loyal citizens. With greatest regret, I must inform you the rumors you may have heard are true—Lamani al-bon, my beloved brother, Kilead, has passed into the Blessed Beyond.”

  Grief rippled through the crowd. Women, even a few men, wept. Males shouted, and females wailed as if they’d suffered a great personal loss. The death of a leader affected a nation, to be sure, but these people acted as if they were crushed by the news.

  Interesting, Sonny observed. If their faith in their dogma is rock solid, they should rejoice, not grieve. The guy didn’t die, he relocated to the Blessed Beyond to meet his creator. Hell, you did him a favor.

  Don’t make me laugh. She snorted and swiped a hand over her mouth. What I find interesting is how Sorviq is committing blasphemy, and no one realizes it. By presuming his brother is headed for the Blessed Beyond, he’s claiming to know the mind of their god. Maybe Kilead isn’t in the Blessed Beyond; maybe he’s an iwani writhing in the sand. If they’re this upset, deep down they must know death is the end. This might be like the old story, The Emperor’s New Clothes. They see the truth, but fear speaking it.

  They’re smart to be afraid, he replied. On this planet, the boy who spoke up would be attacked and killed by the mob. They can’t allow the truth. Accepting it would mean admitting the foundation of their society is built on pretense.

  No wonder we can’t get a message out, Amanda said. Communication with outsiders would leave them open to influence which could widen the cracks of disbelief and undermine the power structure.

  Ergo, religion punishes heresy.

  The holographic image seemed to solidify more. “My beloved brother was assassinated by the female he considered for his mate.”

  The crowd gasped.

  Oh crap. They know, she said.

  Men glared at the women as if they were guilty by association. The females cowered in submission.

  “We believe she was sent by the organization of infidels, the Association of Planets.”

  The crowd hissed.

  “I assure you, they’ll be brought to justice, and order will be maintained. According to the law of succession, I, as Lamani-al-duban, have assumed command of the homeland, and as the Great One wills it, shall succeed my father upon his passing into the Blessed Beyond.

  The hologram paused.

  “Glory to the Great One and Lamani-al-duban!” chanted the crowd on cue.

  How trained they are, she commented.

  Brainwashed, he agreed. They wouldn’t know how to handle freedom if they had it.

  “I call upon your duty to apprehend those responsible for the murder and sacrilege.” To the right of Sorviq’s swirling form, a hologram of Amanda materialized. “If you see this woman, arrest her so she may confess her crimes before the Great One.”

  Since the only way to appear before their god was to die, Sorviq had announced she would be put to death. Sonny assessed her disguise: military fatigues, short choppy hair, arrogant scowl. Would people see through the masquerade?

  Time to scram, he said.

  Roger.

  “We also want this man for questioning,” he continued. “He is a co-conspirator.” Out of shimmering air, Sonny’s likeness materialized. It hadn’t taken them long to put and two and two together and arrive at four. “You will recognize him by his face. He bears the mark of an iwani. The Great One has scarred him so all will recognize he is a traitor.”

  Move slowly, but with purpose. Don’t act guilty, she said.

  Reflex tugged his chin downward, but he held his head up. She was correct. He’d draw more scrutiny if he appeared to be trying to hide.

  “Glory to the Great One and Lamani, his Prophet and Incarnate!” Sorviq shouted.

  The people chorused.

  Amanda slipped her weapon off her shoulder and moved behind and to Sonny’s right. Go. Go. But slowly.

  “Death to the infidels!”

  “Death to the infidels!” chanted the people. “Iwani! Iwani!”

  They crossed the foyer and hurried for the exit. As they approached, the door slid open. A soldier entered. Sonny scratched his temple, shielding his face with his hand.

  The soldier glanced at him but shifted his attention to the holograms.

  They stepped into open air. The morning sun, already hot, drilled down from a sanguine sky. The doors hissed, sliding toward a close.

  “Halt in the name of Lamani!” shouted the soldier they’d passed.

  Run! Sonny yelled.

  Nanocytes rushed to power muscle fiber. With cyborg speed, they sprinted parallel to the high
wall encompassing the residence. Stark, tall windowless buildings formed a wall on both sides of the pedestrian thoroughfare, boxing them in. They could only run forward.

  “Stop the infidels!”

  They veered around men clustered in conversation and blew past a mother with a baby, causing her to leap out of the way, clutching her child against her chest in fear. PeeVees whizzed overhead, their passengers gaping through the windows.

  “Halt in the name of Lamani!” a new voice shouted. More than one soldier had joined the chase.

  A photon burst streamed past Sonny’s ear to strike a building, showering the street with sparks and debris.

  They could hit their own people! Amanda said.

  They’re not concerned about friendly fire.

  Another shot tore up the pavement in front of them, spraying them with stinging sand. Walled in by towering buildings, they couldn’t dodge the blasts forever. They had to find cover.

  All the buildings looked alike: tall attached boxes, standing in a row. Lamis-Odg emphasized conformity in thought, in dress, in speech, and in architecture. Only the signage distinguished one building from another to reveal a commercial district fronted the compound. Did the stores have back entrances? Could they cut through a shop to the other side?

  Without a back exit, they’d be trapped, and he didn’t doubt shopkeepers and customers would turn them in. No one would risk arrest for aiding and abetting criminals, assassins.

  Footsteps and shouts faded away as they outdistanced their pursuers, but then a military PeeVee screamed overhead, missing them by a hair. Its engine squealed. Sonny checked behind them to see the vehicle spin 180 degrees, preparing to head back their way.

  Nanos gave his legs extra strength and speed, but his lower limbs were his own, not titanium prostheses like Amanda’s. And even she couldn’t outrun a PeeVee. But without him to slow her down, she might be able to get away. The PeeVee couldn’t chase both of them.

  I’m holding you back, he said. You can run faster without me.

  Don’t even suggest it.

  You have to get the intel to HQ.

  I won’t leave you behind.

  I’m pointing out the facts.

  Well, don’t do that.

  He scanned the street, picking up detail Amanda couldn’t see. A crack appeared in the barrier of sandstone, a space where the two buildings failed to connect.

  There! Across the street. Eleven o’clock. He motioned.

  Let’s try it, she said. We can’t stay here.

  They hotfooted toward the fissure. Engine noise roared. The PeeVee closed in. Amanda flung herself into the crack. A second behind her, he dove in sideways. The computer-controlled PeeVee banked hard, missing the building by a millimeter. Its exhaust buffeted his face.

  Narrow miss.

  “This goes through to another pedestrian track,” she said, scooting through the channel.

  He peered over her head. “I see it.”

  Sandstone snagged his clothing as he hustled. They exited onto another byway, narrower than the thoroughfare they’d fled.

  “Right or left,” she asked.

  Right U-turned toward the residence. The row buildings erected a barrier between them and the main avenue, but a few edifices wouldn’t protect them from a PeeVee programed to run them down. Going left would put more distance between them and the compound—but it led away from the main gate, their exit from the city.

  “Left,” he said. They had to get to the gate alive.

  This footpath appeared more alley than street and was vacant of passersby who could be caught in the crossfire. Sonny didn’t regret the accidental assassination an iota but couldn’t forget the mother protecting her infant. Thankfully, they hadn’t been hit by the soldiers shooting at him and Amanda. That kind of collateral damage was unacceptable.

  Unimpeded by pedestrian traffic, they sprinted down the passage. Compacted sand formed the building blocks of everything: the bricks in the edifices, pavers in the street, the relief of the Great One peering down from the rooftop like a judgmental gargoyle. And everything was tinted a bloody pink by the crimson sky.

  The way the buildings walled in the streets of the city reminded him of the hedge mazes popular on Terra several centuries back. The guidance systems in their microprocessors wouldn’t allow them to unknowingly circle back to the same spot, but the streets weren’t mapped out in their heads either. They had no idea what lay ahead. One bad turn could result in them getting shot. Or they could be chased by another PeeVee.

  “This area seems more residential than commercial,” she commented.

  “It does.” He eyed the sandstone. “Nothing is marked here.”

  “Speaking of which, did you notice the difference in signage on the other street?”

  “You mean some had icons, while others had lettered script?”

  “Yes. Women are forbidden to read, Janai told me. The businesses women frequent—food markets, fabric merchants, doctors’ offices—have pictures to explain what they are. The ones catering to men are lettered.”

  Archaic practices. A preposterous mythology. Terrorism. Was there anything to recommend Lamis-Odg?

  They followed the passage as it angled to the left. A short jog later, it veered right then dead-ended. At the terminus, a multi-level structure loaded with parked PeeVees cast a shadow over the alley.

  He sighed. “We should have gone right when we exited the break between the buildings.” As he turned to retrace their steps, a dull-gray armored vehicle lifted off from the stack. It hovered over the structure then rotated and headed in their direction, descending instead of climbing. “It’s coming for us!”

  “Yes, I called it.”

  The PeeVee settled to street level, and its hatch hissed open.

  “Our chariot awaits!” Amanda swept out her arm. “It belongs to Kilead. I downloaded the files from his PerComm, remember? One of them had activation codes for his PeeVee.”

  “Smart girl!” They could zip to the main gate in mere minutes now. They’d still have to pass a scan to exit, but one thing at a time. “After you,” he said. They tumbled into the passenger cab. The doors had no sooner sealed when something slammed into the vehicle and threw them against the sidewalls. What the hell? He whipped around. Three soldiers charged down the street. One of them discharged his weapon. A ball of red fire cannoned down the passage.

  “Brace yourself,” he yelled.

  The impact shook the vehicle. If not for the protective armoring, they would have been fried. But how many hits could the vehicle sustain?

  The PeeVee took care of it. A burst of photon energy exploded its blaster tubes. The end of the street lit up in flames. Soldiers dove for cover.

  “It’s programmed to fight off attack,” he said.

  “Take us to the main gate,” she commanded the vehicle.

  The vehicle performed a vertical climb and zoomed over rooftops.

  “Everyone at the compound knows Kilead is dead, but maybe the tower hasn’t been informed yet. Maybe we can fly by,” Sonny said.

  “I had the same idea. I’m hoping they’ll wave us through. I doubt they’d subject Lamani-al-bon to the indignity of a bio scan. I wish we could avoid the gate altogether, but according to the data on the PerComm, the entire perimeter is defended. If we attempted to sneak over the wall rather than using the main entrance, they’d know something was wrong. They would scan us then. They’d probably shoot us down. Even an armored PeeVee can’t withstand a missile strike.”

  “But if they stop us at the gate—”

  “We’ll blast our way out,” Amanda said.

  “You saved our asses.”

  “I’m responsible for our asses almost getting fried.”

  “Shit happens.” Mistakes were unavoidable given the unpredictable nature of covert ops. “We had no idea what we would face. If missions were easy, Cy-Ops wouldn’t be involved.” He frowned and scratched his chin. “They sure replaced Kilead fast.”

  “Line
of succession. Government has to have a fallback. If something happened to Carter, for instance, Brock Mann would step in.” She twisted her mouth. “Political repercussions will occur. They think we’re from the AOP. I can foresee retaliation against the member planets.”

  The terrorists would play the victim. Despite their unprovoked attacks against innocents, they would denounce the AOP and launch an attack in “self-defense.”

  “We need to inform Carter about the latest development so he can warn the AOP to implement emergency protocols.”

  Amanda pressed her lips together. “Carter won’t be happy. It puts him in a tough spot. How can he warn them when we officially don’t exist?”

  “The AOP body doesn’t know about Cy-Ops, but a few individuals do.”

  “Like who?”

  “Carter and Mikala Aaron, former president of Terra United, are old friends. Her daughter Penelope is an ambassador. Her husband is Brock Mann.”

  “Does she have enough clout to get the AOP to listen?”

  “If she doesn’t, I’m sure Carter has other connections.”

  “How do you know so much about him?”

  “We go back a ways—there’s the guard tower!” The moment of truth.

  But instead of flying toward it, the PeeVee’s speed decreased. Vehicles zoomed past, electronic horns honking.

  Amanda sat straighter. “Computer—why are you slowing? Report.”

  The vehicle did not respond, but executed a U-turn.

  “Computer! Reverse course. Return to the main gate.”

  Speed increased.

  “Halt vehicle, now!” she barked. “Damn it! It’s not responding to my wireless signal. It knows we’re not Kilead.”

  “It must be programmed to go directly to the compound. We have to get out.”

  “Computer. Open doors.” She hammered at the emergency release. “We’re locked in!” She raised her feet and kicked. The armored vehicle had withstood the photon blasts. It didn’t surprise him when her cyber kick didn’t even leave a dent.

  Only the computer could let them out—unless…

  Sonny dug out his universal implement and wedged himself under the dash. He pulled up a schematic in his head. Hopefully, Lamis-Odg personal vehicles were wired and programmed similar to Terran ones. He ran his fingers over the electronics until he found the right chip and slid the tool underneath to pry it loose. An electrical current shot up his arm and into his body with red hot pain. His teeth vibrated.