“A goal without a plan is just a wish.” Antoine de Saint-Exupery
It was ready.
Rap—formerly robotic unit RaptorZ—took a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders and back. His chair creaked and he almost sighed. He used to be able to work around the clock without the aches or the creaks.
He hadn’t needed a chair at all while in his previous unit. But he wasn’t a robot anymore.
He reached out and used the datapad to flip through the plan again. Not that he needed to. It was burned into his brain. That hadn’t changed with his transition back to mostly human.
The plan was as solid as he could make it. It was simple in concept—and complex because of how the enemy might respond—but he’d considered and planned for most variables. That he could foresee them was a skill he’d been born with. That it was also the reason he’d ended up a slave of the Master was unfortunate, but he wasn’t a slave anymore. And this plan should ensure that he and his crewmates continued to be free…if it worked.
The risks were great, the outcome in doubt.
That was the problem with plans. No matter how carefully he planned, stuff happened. As a robot he’d been able to react swiftly to rapidly changing dynamics. This body was much slower, but he couldn’t have executed this plan in his previous unit. And the only reason this human body had a chance was because of its cyborg enhancements.
You are welcome.
The AI, Nelson had come with the enhancements. Or the enhancements came with the AI. There was no question Nelson was key to making them work properly. But having a voice inside his head was an acquired taste—one Rap was still acquiring. At least it didn’t have the same attachment to playlists as the other AIs in the outpost. So far, here, aboard the Najer was the only place where music wasn’t being piped almost continuously through the communication speakers.
Your plan is imperfect.
Nelson was correct—
I am always correct.
Rap didn’t dispute this. It felt too much like arguing with himself, even though he knew Nelson was a separate entity operating inside Rap’s head.
“It is all we have,” Rap pointed out, startled by the sound of his voice in the otherwise empty room. If not stopped, the Q’uy, and V’ruwak in particular, would move against them again, harder than the last time, and they’d barely survived that.
With a slight frown, he closed out the file and sent a copy to the captain’s console. Using his hands, instead of being directly connected to the computer, still felt clumsy and painfully slow.
I can create a connection for you. It won’t be quite the same, but it will be faster.
Nothing quite like being called slow by an AI.
“Maybe later,” Rap said. He was unsure how he felt about using Nelson or giving up control. There was a sense of something from Nelson that could have been understanding. Rap was not sure.
I respect your ethical issues. It hesitated, then said, Snake was wondering if you had time to address some concerns.
Rap hid a sigh. He might miss the days when Snake’s hissing was just that—hissing. Now that Nelson could translate, he realized how much Snake said on a daily basis.
He could understand Snake’s pent-up frustration and need to talk. She was the only one of the species that had been liberated from pirates, who had not had a chance to tell her story. She. Her. He’d thought Snake was a male for no reason he could explain.
“Didn’t you look under her tail?” Dr. Rachel Grant had asked, her gaze openly amused.
He’d shaken his head, rendered mute by the presence of two females. Even before becoming human, he tended to lose most of his ability to speak. Or to think.
This is true.
Rap ignored the interjection, but that didn’t make the truth go away. This left him at a considerable disadvantage with Snake. Before he could think of a response to her comments, she’d moved on to something else.
He gave a gesture of assent in Snake’s direction and the flow of hissing—words by Nelson—began to flow.
Thank goodness for Ale—AlebatorR, his old friend. Not that Rap had any idea how old AlebatorR was, but Rap had done many missions with him. Ale was highly experienced in the mission critical skills Rap needed right now. Rap needed him to be at his side for the plan. There’d be no surprises from good old Ale.
“Are you okay?”
Ale had been asked variations of this question since Dr. Rachel Grant had assisted in the process of transferring her human consciousness from her AlebatorR unit to her cloned body. By now she should have an answer. She should know what “okay” meant.
All right. Proceeding normally. Satisfactory or under control. Correct, permissible, or acceptable. Meeting standards. Well enough. Agreeable, all right, copacetic, ducky, fine, good, hunky-dory, jake, A-OK , palatable…
Ale repressed a sigh, hoping Jett did not notice. She was grateful for the accumulation of nanites that called itself Jett. It had assisted her greatly in this journey from machine to mostly human. Ale might be less grateful Jett loved rock and roll. It was a good thing the nanite could cure the headache it caused when it “rocked out.”
Just tell them you are fine, sweetie.
Ale considered this suggestion and realized she’d heard the phrase exchanged many times between the humans occupying this outpost in the Garradian Galaxy.
Um, you’re human, too, sweetie.
The other humans in this outpost, Ale mentally corrected, though the first felt closer to the truth. She did not yet feel like one of the humans.
“I am fine,” Ale said, watching Rachel from beneath her lashes. She might miss her previous unit’s ability to scan a target without looking at it.
Rachel’s not a target.
This was true, but it felt as if Ale were Rachel’s—problem. Jett had no comment for this, Ale noted.
I can neither agree nor disagree. Not enough data, sweetie.
Rachel had one hip propped against the counter that was part of the small kitchen in Ale’s current quarters. Normally a medical person would live there, but the quarters had been empty when Ale needed to leave the hospital bed and was not quite ready for wider interaction.
Even with Jett’s help, Ale had struggled to control the cyborg enhancements that made her, actually, not completely human. Or a bit more human if she decided to look at it on the bright side.
Which you never do…
“It’s a lot to deal with,” Rachel had pointed out, when Ale exhibited frustration. “You’re coping with returning to your cloned body and leaving your unit, and, well, everything.”
It was true that returning to her body had been more difficult than she’d anticipated. But being watched by Rachel and her staff did not help. And being isolated from her crewmates like Rap…
She pushed that source of stress to the back of her mind. She was getting better at it.
When you have to do something that much, you’re not actually getting better.
Ale ignored this and lifted her chin so that her gaze met Rachel’s.
Rachel appeared to be relaxed, but her intent gaze belied that. Ale noted that Rachel’s body was imperfectly aligned with one hip jutted out and one foot tucked behind the other. It was common for the humans to do this, she realized.
Ale felt her own near-perfect alignment, from her rigidly straight spinal column to the careful arrangement of her feet. Her hands rested on her almost-touching knees, the fingers lightly flexed.
You need to lighten up. Relax.
Was it more comfortable to be out of alignment? Ale moved one hand forward and eased one foot back. The urge to restore both to a more balanced position caused the tips of her fingers to tremble.
You can do it, sister.
Ale twitched, not where it could be seen, but inside.
No, really, you got this.
Almost imperceptibly, Ale moved hand and foot back into place.
Maybe next time, sweetie.
Jett’s encouragement did not abate the spike of anxiety. This caused a flicker of metal to appear on the backs of her hands for a moment.
Rachel bit her lower lip, an indication Ale believed, of doubt.
“You are concerned that I am not yet stable and in control.” Ale angled her head as she’d seen other humans do. “Are you not?”
Rachel hesitated, then nodded. “You’re the only crew member, so far, who has returned to your own body.”
Ale felt her brows rise—a strange sensation—and said, “This is not my ‘own’ body, Rachel. That body died when I left it for my AlebatorR unit.”
“Returned to your cloned body,” Rachel corrected. “How do you feel about that?”
“About becoming human once again?” Ale’s brows drew together. Rachel’s lack of precision was confusing.
If you think their words are confusing, you should see inside one of their heads.
Ale did not know how to respond to this interjection. She had been inside a human head before and currently was back inside…a human head. In contrast to her cybernetic unit, she could agree it was less orderly, bordering on chaotic.
Sorry.
Ale sensed Jett’s embarrassment. Now that was confusing. How could an AI, no matter how sentient, project emotion?
Didn’t you feel? You were an AI, too.
It was a fair question. She had felt, but she had not felt like this. And she had been a sentience inside her unit.
Um, so am I, girlfriend.
“Is my experience dissimilar from the others?” Ale asked.
“Yes…and no, I guess. They left bodies for their cybernetic units, but so far everyone else has chosen a new body, not a clone of who they used to be.”
“This concerns you?” Ale asked the question to deflect—or postpone—the moment Rachel asked why she had done this.
“Well, CabeX seemed surprised,” Rachel said.
The captain of the Najer, and the man who had saved her life, would be surprised by her choice. For that matter…
“I surprised myself,” Ale admitted. This was a version of the truth. She’d never expected or hoped to return to her old body. And when the chance came, she would have chosen another body, too.
She’d had nothing but sorrow in her old body and it would be insane of her to return to Q’uy territory as herself, no matter how long it had been since her death. Only Jett, and the cyborg enhancements that came with the AI, made a return possible.
They were protective, but they also allowed her to hide who she was. Now she held up one hand and called the metal plating out of her hand. It flowed across the back of her hand and up her fingers, the tiny platelets shimmered silver and blue in the room’s lighting.
She stroked the metal composite with her human hand. It was not as strong as her robotic unit, but it was better than fragile human skin.
The Earth Expedition members had not encountered her kind—if there were any of her kind left to encounter. It was possible she was the last of her species. She was not sure CabeX had known what she was when he offered her an escape, though in her experience CabeX always knew everything.
“Do you feel in control of the cybernetics now?” Rachel asked.
Ale looked up, held Rachel’s gaze as she hid the metal once again. She turned her hand, released some on her palm, then hid those again.
“Yes,” she said. The moments when anxiety brought them out were fewer, the breaches slight.
She flexed the human fingers, feeling the movement of muscle under the skin. Jett had assisted her early on when Ale couldn’t make the enhancements retract, but now Ale could control them on her own.
Ale did not know—and feared to ask—if Jett intended to leave at some point. Ale might find its taste in music unfortunate, but she had grown used to having the AI…around.
I heart you, too, sweetie.
Ale felt warmth around her heart. It was somewhat like the warmth she felt around Rap, though the sensation was also different.
You don’t have the hots for me.
There was no point having the, er, hots for Rap. He’d gained a human body but retained his inscrutability, and seemed mainly to care for his BoaConscript. As a human, she could admit she felt uneasy around the large Snake. Unlike the other rescued species, Snake did not communicate with them.
She talks plenty. You just can’t understand her.
Snake’s hissing was communicating?
She digs you.
Ale was not certain what this meant.
She likes you.
The Snake liked her. She supposed that was…optimal.
It is if you want to get close enough to jump Rap’s bones.
She didn’t—
Liar.
Ale turned her attention back to Rachel, wondering if she’d missed a question. Rachel did look puzzled, but her next comment somewhat alleviated Ale’s concern.
“I’ve—we’ve—noticed—” Rachel looked away, bit her lower lip, then returned her gaze to Ale’s, “—that you haven’t looked at yourself. Don’t you want to…see how you look?”
“I know how I look,” Ale said. Her last view of her human face had been burned into the databanks of her unit, and journeyed with her consciousness into this cloned body. Though it also felt strange, there was something familiar about the height and weight of this body.
She remembered the things she had done. She knew what she’d lost in giving up her robot unit. She’d liked being powerful. The cyborg enhancements helped her retain some of that power, but not all, yet she’d chosen to do this, to go all the way back. Why had she risked so much?
The heart wants what the heart wants, girlfriend.
Ale resisted the urge to rub at the tiny ache over where her human heart beat. The last time she’d seen Rap was just before they began her transfer.
In a way she did not understand, his new body suited Rap, though she had not seen his previous human form. Of course, the body was not as tall as his unit had been, but it had a powerful frame, a sharply carved face that felt as if it had emerged from the metal of his old frame.
The face had distinct brows over intense brown eyes. Facial hair stubbled the area around his mouth—Ale’s mouth quivered before she could firm it—and a straight nose. His high forehead reached up to hair shaved short. He reminded her of the mercenaries—she cut the thought short when it caused her insides to heat up unexpectedly.
He’s a bad-A dude for sure. Jett’s tone was admiring. But he’s a marshmallow inside.
Ale might have frowned. What was a marshmallow?
Soft and sweet. Nelson says he’s way smarter than he looks.
Nelson was Rap’s AI. How did smart look? Ale wondered. As units, they’d all looked like, well, different kinds of robots. But she’d been the least smart of the crew.
Now don’t go brain-shaming, girlfriend. You’ve got some serious IQ in your brainbox.
Of course, linking her mind with an AI had enabled her to learn, but she’d been the only one to come to the crew without a specific skill set, the lone human who had left her only value behind with her body.
She’d worked hard to perfect her battle skills because that was all she had to offer. Always she’d wondered, if CabeX had known who he pulled out of this body, would he still have saved her?
She did not wish to know the answer to that question. There was no doubt in her mind that if V’ruwak had known she still lived, he’d have thrown every resource he possessed, including every robot in his inventory, into getting her back. But he hadn’t known.
She lifted a hand, tracing the curve of the now-human cheek. No, she did not need to see herself in a mirror to remember.
Ale eyed Rachel carefully, wondering how to phrase her next request, wondering if she really wanted it. But even if she didn’t, Rap needed her. They’d both received the cybernetic enhancements for the upcoming mission. The mission that everything important to her, and to him, hinged on.
Smile, sweetie.
Smile?
Let me help you out with that.
The edges of her mouth moved, the edges tipping up. After a nudge from Jett, Ale said, “I feel ready to return to the Najer now.”
Rap listened to all of Snake’s “concerns,” which seemed numerous and not all equally essential at this time and then talked to his friend about the mission one last time before he went to meet the captain in the ship’s ready room.
This very human space had been an ignored room until the crew started to transition back into human form. Rap climbed two sets of ladders to get to the command deck, then turned a corner in the passage to the ready room and came face-to-face with a female.
They both stopped. She looked startled. His jaw dropped. His throat closed.
She was the kind of female that took processors offline. Her widened eyes were the green of a nebula, iridescent and mysterious. Vibrant titian hair was pulled up into a careless knot on top of her perfectly sculpted head. A straight nose sat above lips that—his brain quit working at even this minimal level, while his eyes cataloged a body well suited to the perfection of her face.
“Rap,” she said. Her rounded lips compressed into a sultry line that dried his throat and caused heat to suffice his body.
He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged.
Your body’s key signs are indicating a high level of stress.
The metal nanites flared on the skin of his arms and hands, catching the light in black and silver patterns. His lips pursed as they tried to ask “who?” This time a croak broke the silence.
The lips curved in a smile that felt like it stopped his heart.
“I guess you wouldn’t recognize me,” she said. “I hardly recognize myself.” The chest—more heat flooded his extremities—rose and fell in a sigh. “I’m…Ale.”
Ale. The name reverberated through his frame. “You’re not…”
She shook her head, setting the titian curls dancing, light finding gold. “No, I’m not…male. I’m sorry. The captain thought it was better…” The words trailed off, and her gold-tipped lashes swept down over her eyes.
“Yes.” Now, when he could have used a little help, Nelson had gone mute, too. His gaze swept her from top to bottom and a thought penetrated the shock. “You’re…”
“Teimanein,” she said, giving a slow nod. “Well, half. A mongrel.”
Sadness marred the perfection of her eyes. Horror for her began to reduce the shock. The Teimaneins had been hunted almost, if not all the way, to extinction. Their beauty was legendary and their blood was said to hold the power of long life. Despite what his eyes told him, he could not make the connection between AlebatorR and this woman.
“You…”
Her smile was wry. “It was an excellent hiding place. And I would not have left it without…” She lifted her arms and the metal of the nanites emerged, covering her from top to toe. Only her eyes were visible now.
“Your eyes,” he managed. Their color was also a giveaway.
The nanites emerged, turning them red. The nanites could not hide the blue and silver perfection of her form, but other species had well-formed bodies. He nodded, but his throat remained dry and tight. He felt like a troll standing before her. And why did that matter? he asked himself. Then he remembered his plan and the part he’d hoped he—she—would play in that plan.
“You can’t go back—”
“I have to,” she said. Her gaze held his for a long moment as the nanites retracted back into her skin. Turning, she gestured down the passage. “The captain is waiting for us.”
Rap was not sure what was harder to see. Ale as a human or covered in blue and silver.
You do not need to decide now. But you should follow her.
Now heat flooded his face as he forced his legs to move.
Someone needs to break out in expression, sweetie.
It wasn’t going to be Ale. She’d lived her whole life—human and robotic—hiding how she felt.
You could break the silence, then.
She licked dry lips and opened them so that words could emerge. “So, it is decided.”
It was not a question. That had been answered earlier with another. Did they wish to live their lives waiting for the Q’uy to strike or end the threat and secure their freedom?
Even now they knew V’urwak would be preparing for another assault on them, and on this galaxy. He would have received data bursts from the ships he’d sent the last time, and that data would only heighten his lust for them and the technology here in the Garradian Galaxy.
This wasn’t just about their continued freedom—though all the crew of the Najer wished to retain their freedom—but about the danger they’d brought with them. The humans here had given them aid and sanctuary. They had fought with them during the last attack and had assisted greatly in defeating that attack.
It must be acknowledged. They lived because of those who inhabited this outpost. This debt must be paid. It was their turn to risk everything. And she….
“I don’t like it,” CabeX said.
Of course not. It would be the first time he did not lead them into a fight.
“Rap and I are the only ones who can do this,” Ale said, though it had been said before.
They were the only ones with the cybernetic enhancements that could hide and protect their human bodies. And those enhancements would also be the bait to trap V’ruwak—that and the fact they’d be flying back with the two ships he’d sent to attack them.
He would desire to know what happened and why those ships had not returned before now.
The thought of facing V’ruwak made her newly human blood chill in the veins. But she felt something else stirring in her memory. Something about her mother…a longing to know….
“The Earth Expedition leaders won’t be happy about this,” CabeX said, not as if this concerned him, but rather as an observation.
“They can’t act without a committee,” Rap observed. He kept his gaze turned away from Ale. He hadn’t looked at her since his first protest about her part in this sortie. Her heart hurt. If he didn’t care, at least she could be with him until…
She frowned. Until what? The restless stirring increasing, and she almost flinched back from the dark and cold she sensed down there….
Snake slithered next to Rap as they entered the outpost’s ship bay and headed to where the captured robot ships were. The Exarch and the Khanri looked much like the Najer on the outside, but Rap was not deceived by exteriors.
How could he be when he and his crew mates had perpetrated the deception they were robots who had become sentient? When their very human consciousnesses had hidden inside the robotic units for so long?
Rap was not—or had not—been given to deep reflection once he’d left his human form behind. He’d been a scientist, a researcher in the same lab where most of the crew had been trapped, enslaved by V’ruwak. Together they’d been forced to work on the technology that had resulted in the robots forms that they used to escape from V’ruwak—the robots that V’ruwak used to compel others to do his will.
It was CabeX, with Rap’s help, who arranged for them all to escape. The risk factor had been high but they had been motivated by the desire to not just be free, but to live free.
If he’d just wanted his freedom from everything that was intolerable, he could have killed himself. In truth, he’d wanted freedom for something better. And he wanted to quit hiding from his past. He wanted to live so he could resume his real studies, not those forced upon him. He wanted to live—well, he wanted to live.
Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.
Rap did not acknowledge this interjection because he was not sure what Nelson thought he denied. He inhaled deeply into his new lungs. He lived. He was free—mostly. They were still hunted by V’ruwak. And now V’ruwak knew they and the Najer were somewhere in the Garradian Galaxy.
It was a lot of space to search, but as long as he hunted for them, they would never be completely free. Their new human bodies gave them an edge, made them harder to find. But that assumed no one would sell this information to V’ruwak, that betrayal was a thing of the past, too.
Rap was not the only crew member who did not believe in this fantasy.
They all wished to be truly and completely free of this threat. Rap had no illusions that other threats might appear, but V’ruwak—made all else pale in comparison.
Rachel had told him he needed a lodestar to survive the transfer of his consciousness from unit to human body. Eliminating the threat that was V’ruwak had been the goal he’d clung to whenever it felt as if madness would overtake him. He had held onto that, focusing on how to do it.
He’d always known the path to defeating V’ruwak was through V’ruwak’s legion of robotic units, but they’d never been able to get close enough to do it. Now, with his cybernetic enhancements and Rap’s knowledge gained from creating and then living inside a robot, they finally had a chance.
A slim chance the captain had said, with warning in his eyes. It was true that V’ruwak knew their greatest strength was also their greatest weakness. Had not every attack against them included a virus designed to take control of their systems?
Rap believed he’d accounted for that, but it did require them to be present and at high risk of compromise themselves during the delivery of their virus.
He glanced down at Snake, who slithered next to him into the hangar, for once silent.
“Do you have a name?” Rap asked, surprised he’d managed a whole question. Perhaps he could get used to a female snake.
She says you couldn’t pronounce it. If she discovers a name she likes that you can pronounce, she will let you know.
Hopefully, not in the middle of the mission, Rap thought, humor tugging at the edges of his mouth. But as they drew closer to the ships, guilt and relief warred for prominence in his mind. Not unlike what he felt about Ale.
He was glad both would be with him on this first—and possibly last—mission since he became a human again. Rap had no illusions about the dangers they faced or the odds against them. The presence of Snake and yes, Nelson, improved their chances of a successful mission, though neither Snake nor AIs improved the odds that he or Ale would survive. They had altered the ship’s programming so that it would return Snake and the AIs if something happened.
Snake is very brave.
She was, Rap acknowledged. She would be visible, unlike the AIs who could move through systems almost undetected. What wouldn’t be visible were the plates of circuitry on her skin that carried part of the complex virus they’d created with the assistance of Savlf, the captain’s friend who had been rescued from the same spider pirate who had imprisoned Snake.
She can move quickly and go through openings humans and robots cannot. She is well suited to the task.
And she was sentient enough to want some redress from the Q’uy, who had sold her to the spider pirate.
Payback is a bitch.
Rap half frowned. That did not sound like Nelson.
Forgive me. I was quoting Jett, Ale’s AI. She is somewhat…informal. Payback can create complications.
Oh. For Rap, this mission was not about revenge but restoring the balance of power to a system that had rewarded the venal and selfish for far too long. He had no desire to kill anyone, even V’ruwak, though if anyone deserved to die it was he.
Rap would fight, and yes, kill if forced into it, but he had no desire to deal death to anyone. Once started, it was too hard to stop.
Only CabeX waited by the Khanri and Exarch, the two captured Q’uy ships. Ale was incoming. She’d been delayed by an unexpected encounter with Rachel. Hopefully, that would not delay their plan, since this action was…
Off book.
Rap paused to get a more accurate definition. It was true the Earth Expedition had not been…
Read in. Given veto power—
The Earth Expedition leaders did not understand the threat level, even after the near disaster of the recent action. It was fortunate Ale had not been required—or expected—to say much to the doctor before now.
All that Rachel and the others knew was that they were doing a shake-down trip on the two ships, after cleaning the programming code. Neither he nor Ale had found the time to polish their deception skills but perhaps the trip would aid them in acquiring this distasteful, but necessary skill—which they would need for the mission.
He also hoped to overcome his difficulty in speaking to females—specifically Ale and Snake, but also others. Rap paused in his thoughts so that Nelson could weigh in. The resounding silence was an indication of the AI’s lack of confidence in Rap’s mastery of speaking to females. Rap could not completely articulate—even to himself—why he felt he needed to learn to talk to…
Ale?
Females.
You don’t want to be alone. You wish to be with someone who matters. Someone like Ale.
It was true that this felt key to being free to live. Ale would understand that. Well, he’d assumed he—she—would understand.
You can form a support group.
Rap sensed that Nelson felt they would need a support group and more to sort out their issues. He sighed and turned his attention to the two ships—something he felt confident he could sort.
Ale felt very…
Deer in the headlights.
What?
Trust me, it’s an apt analogy, even if you don’t get it.
Okay.
Smile or Rachel will suspect something.
Ale tipped up the edges of her mouth. It did not feel like a smile.
“How does it feel?” Rachel gestured vaguely around with her hands.
“The temperature is the same here as it was—”
She means, how does it feel to be out and about?
“But it is…pleasant…to be around…others,” Ale added.
Rachel grinned. “It is probably going to be hard to be human for a while. I wouldn’t stress too much about it.”
Yeah, that ship sailed.
“Are you worried about the shake-down flight?” Rachel asked, sending Ale’s heart into overdrive.
“Worried?”
“Well, TalusH said he has fine-combed for traps and stuff. He thinks he found the program that automatically returns the ships to their home base.”
Rachel did not sound, or look, unduly concerned. Her tone was more that of matter-of-fact scientist.
Yeah, I really don’t think she suspects anything. If you can keep your cool for a few more minutes.
“Programming was—ever—our worry,” Ale said, nodding her head as she’d seen other humans doing during communication exchanges.
Rachel’s face broke into a wide smile. “Well, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore, or at least not much of one.”
They did still have some programming in their cybernetics, but Jett, a sentient AI, was a powerful protection.
You are welcome.
But even as Ale felt her insides relax, she felt that dark, cold stirring within….
Both ships were the latest in the Q’uy fleet—a testament to how desperately V’ruwak wanted them and the Najer back. Thanks to these ships and the robots they’d also captured, they’d acquired insight into the improvements the Q’uy had made since their escape.
If they’d dared, they would have added some of the Garradian upgrades to the ships, but they were flying into the heart of the Q’uy empire, and this would be a worse betrayal of their human friends.
Rap wished….
That this was your bonding trip instead of a flight into deadly danger?
Heat suffused his body. There was no question of that.
Naturally I cannot betray a confidence, though there are others who have no problem with that, but I would not despair if I were you. Well, I wouldn’t if we weren’t beginning a journey that is not likely to end well. So perhaps despair is your best option. Humans have been known to accomplish extraordinary things when all hope is lost.
Not grateful for this further lack of confidence, Rap joined CabeX, his gaze scanning the ships as memories of past missions stirred in the morass that was called the brain.
He had hoped for some of his memories to make the journey with him into this new body and was not exactly pleasantly surprised that the unpleasant ones had also come along. They were not well arranged and were sometimes difficult to access, but he also knew he needed to remember as much as possible, so he could do what must be done.
Neither he nor CabeX spoke right away. Speech wasn’t just challenging with females for him. All speech was difficult, he conceded. Their years without the need for talking had left them relearning this necessary skill.
Rap had watched and eavesdropped on the humans on this outpost, hoping to discover clues to how they talked to each other so easily. It seemed that so much of their communication was…unnecessary.
Small talk can build a bridge between humans. They seek common ground and a beginning of understanding.
This did not provide much enlightenment.
Ask your captain how Savlf is doing.
That was a very personal question.
All questions are personal.
Oh. Rap glanced back. Ale had not arrived yet. It felt optimal to make this attempt without an audience. Or any more of an audience. He cleared his throat. “How is Savlf?”
“She was well enough to refine the virus you carry with you,” CabeX said.
Rap nodded, mimicking what he’d seen other humans do during their talking events. “That is well.”
Rap felt a strange urge to shift his feet, to move even in a small way. This bridge was not very big.
“She is most expert with code,” Rap said. She had almost taken down CabeX with a virus when he was still a robot, and she had been the slave of the spider pirate. She had been grievously injured by her time in the spider captain’s web but they all hoped she would recover.
“Yes,” CabeX said.
It is going to be a long trip.
The bay doors of the hangar slid back and Ale entered wearing basic-black, human-crew clothing. It clung to her curves and turned her hair into a flame that lit something inside him. She moved with a brisk grace, which put a tighter band around his vocal cords.
It was indeed going to be a long trip.