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A white motorcycle tops the hill before squealing to a hard stop well out of my jammer’s influence. I have no doubt he’s Fae, especially since his entire face is concealed in a specialized nanite suit. My suspicions are confirmed when the nanites peel back to reveal the face of the sandy-haired man I tried to poison. His lips curl back into a snarl, and yet there’s still something... charming about him. Maybe that’s why he chose to become a Fae.
Or is he like me, and didn’t have a choice in which augments he received?
I take a deep breath and stare him down. The Network won’t work for me so long as the jammer is running, but who knows how much time I have left at this level of power?
The Fae dismounts the bike, but keeps his nanite suit as-is and doesn’t come any closer. He’s not going to give me a chance to inject him, even if I did stop the jammer.
“Where are your friends?” I taunt, clenching and unclenching my fingers as I assess the situation.
His snarl fractures for a split second, as if his illusion distorts. Then he’s back to looking like his same calm self. He places his hands on his hips, tapping his finger on his pelvis as if he’s drumming out some strange rhythm. The whole movement looks so unnatural to a Fae that I wonder how recently he got these augments. But he tilts his head coolly, his expression somewhere between sour and disinterested.
“Let me see...” His voice sounds rough, as if he hasn’t used it in a while. “Two of them need reconstruction and mental rehabilitation, thanks to what your jammer did to them. One lost about a month’s worth of memories, since he’s terrible at backing up his sapience chip, but he should be fine once we get him a new body.”
He works his jaw as if trying to decide what else to say, but he doesn’t seem particularly concerned. I’m guessing the Fae who need reconstruction are the ones whose body was mostly made of nanites. I wouldn’t have thought my jammer could have that strong of an anti-tech field, but if their nanite augments relied heavily on the Network to communicate with the rest of the swarm, their connections might be more fragile than most.
As for the new body...
My shoulders pinch as I draw them back. It’s like what happened with Koenigin. Except, if I’m to guess, they’re using the impressions as backups.
That’s exactly the kind of thing Dr. Johnson would know how to do.
“I see,” I note aloud, trying not to betray my frustration.
On one hand, it’s nice not to have accidentally killed someone. On the other hand, this is why the Fae are so powerful. You can kill them, but they come right back, so long as they have a backup impression. They’re effectively immortal.
“It’s a pity our benefactor is so obsessed with your capture,” the Fae retorts. “With a few more enhancements, you’d fit in well with the rest of us. I think your dear president would be quite satisfied with what we could do for you... or would have been satisfied, if she was not so angry with you.”
I do my best not to shudder. He’s so... cold. They all are. With all the enhancements, it’s like they somehow forget to be human. Whereas the NEL try to gain more sapience and emotion, the Fae become more distant and aloof.
“Why don’t you go home?” I suggest, hoping I sound more gruff than tired. “You can’t do anything while my jammer is still active.”
His silvery eyes don’t leave my face. “On the contrary. I suspect you’ll set the jammer aside and come with me.”
A strange hum fills the air, and then turns into the sound of an engine. A silvery sports car—the kind that only the rich can afford—rides up behind me. I squint, and once it stops, I see the driver who let me borrow his phone sitting stiffly in the passenger seat while a red-haired Fae lady sits behind him, a gun to his temple.
I grit my teeth. How did they capture him? What have I gotten this poor man into?
She ushers the man out of the car and forces him to kneel in front of the headlights. He’s a mere silhouette, but that doesn’t ease the anguish rising in my throat.
I can already see where this is going, and nobody wins.
“Unlike me, I doubt he has an impression,” the sandy-haired Fae continues. “In fact, from what my associates have told me, he doesn’t have any augmentations. Even if we were to take an impression and remake him, I doubt his family would accept him. He’d just be a copy... a fake like all the rest of us.” He cocks his head, and his speech is so calm and reserved for how callous he talks that I want to punch him.
“What’s your point?” I ask sharply. I won’t give him the satisfaction of trying to argue.
He blinks at me. “This poor man is so... beneath us. All of us, even those who never have more than a basic Network connector implanted in their brains. They, at least, have tried to take the next step.” He glances disdainfully at the man kneeling beneath him. “Without penalty for however you answer, tell me this: if receiving an augmentation would spare your life, would you accept it?”
The man stares ahead into the night and doesn’t speak.
My heart skips a beat. I expect the Fae to reprimand him, but the Fae looks to me instead. “So stubborn. You used to think like we do, until you met Maria Snow. She’s made you weak... and so much stronger than Koenigin ever expected.” A tiny hint of a smile flickers across his lips, but it’s gone instantly. “We have a contract, our benefactor and I. But you asked about a deal, and unlike our boring leader, I find navigating such an arangement to be quite invigorating. If you are so inclined, I’ll give you a fighting chance. Before we take you back, I’ll augment you. Full augments, all the upgrades... and an impression as a backup. You’ll sign a contract to us, we’ll lock that contract into your impression, and you’ll be Fae. Absolutely perfect, on a level even your dear president cannot comprehend. You have an ingenuity in battle that would work well in our favor. You saw how... useless we were.” He pauses, letting the idea sink in.
The thought of being Fae chills me to the bone, and I don’t think my luck with the jammer is the ingenuity he’s referring to. He wants me as a huntress.
I want no part of their cult.
I start to open my mouth, but he holds his hand up halfway, as if to calm me before I can even begin to rage. The other Fae merely stands beside her hostage, not that there’s much he can do if he tries to run.
“I understand there’s an automatic desire to refuse if you aren’t given incentive,” the Fae continues, his expression unchanged. “But the stakes may be a little different than you think.” He glances over to the man on the ground. My chest constricts. He’s sitting here because of me...
No. He’s here because the Fae are trying to use him against me. Yes, I flagged him down and asked for help, which he gave. But it’s the Fae’s choice to hurt him, not mine.
“I know what you may be thinking.” The Fae strides nonchalantly to the other side of the man and takes the woman’s gun. He looks up and meets my gaze, never mind that I’m wearing my helmet. “You think that, if you refuse to join us, I’ll kill him. But that’s not it at all.” He opens the chamber and removes all but one cartridge. This time, he smiles. “A Fae doesn’t mind killing those beneath him. If you want to join us, you’ll kill him. Prove that your contract won’t drive you insane with guilt. One shot. You’re a huntress, so I know you won’t miss, even with your augments inactive.” He turns off the gun’s safety before lowering it to the ground and sitting it carefully along the yellow stripe in the road. “I should warn you, if you try to shoot us, we have nanite fields that will protect us. And if that fails, we’ll simply place our impressions into new bodies.”
I lick my lips, trying to make sense of his offer. Surely he knows I have no plans to shoot the innocent man. “What if I don’t want to become one of you?”
He narrows his eyebrows quizzically. “Either you already are, or you aren’t. The point isn’t whether you want to become Fae. If you choose to discard your jammer and come willingly with us without shooting him, you simply aren’t strong enough to stand up to our benefactor. We look after ourselves and our kind first. If you don’t, you’re not Fae. And, before you ask, we will let him go if you choose not to shoot. Killing him after saying we wouldn’t would be terribly detrimental to future deals. We have a reputation to uphold.” He steps away from the gun, giving me enough room to take it without jamming his augments. “What will it be, Huntress? End his life, prove you are of the right mindset to be Fae, and be granted the augments you need to destroy our benefactor? Or will you discard the jammer, let this man roam free about his uninspiring life, and see what our benefactor has in store for you? I guarantee the latter won’t be a pleasant experience.”
I swallow hard, looking to the man whose life is on the line. Of course I won’t kill him. The fact that he’s sitting here so stoically after helping me... that’s more inspiring than this Fae could ever be.
“Oh... and before you get any ideas about trying to leave with him, gambling that your jammer will keep us away and allow you to knock out the current driver, I assure you that the falcon who spotted you talking with this man” —he looks up to the navy sky where a dark form swoops overhead— “will track you from far above your jammer’s reach. He will know where you go. And once my associates catch up to you, I suspect our benefactor will happily experiment on both you and this innocent being.”
I grimace. “Let me guess, if I were to fight, you would kill him?”
“Most certainly.” The Fae’s sandy eyebrows furrow as if that’s not even a valid question. “And you would die as well, albeit at our benefactor’s hands.”
The lump lodges itself worse in my throat, but I already know what I’m going to do. The Fae are known for their deals—probably because of the ones like this. How they fulfill their agreements can sometimes be impish, as his offer to bring me, augmented, to his benefactor shows. But if I agree to discard the jammer, I’m fairly certain he’ll honor his part of the bargain, and he won’t let anything happen to the man who helped me.
Not tonight, at least.
I unclasp the necklace that’s been holding the jammer secure against my breast. I hold it up so he can see. “I have no interest in becoming one of you, and that man has done nothing to deserve to die.” I back away slowly, then carefully place the jammer at the base of the iron fence behind me. I hold up both hands, so the Fae can see they’re empty. “But once I’m out of its range...”
“You’re going to feel the effects of being outside of a house arrest zone,” the Fae says simply. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you secure behind me.” He gestures for me to follow him to his pearly white motorbike, and then turns back to the other Fae. “Once she’s safely secured and we know she’s honoring her word, let the man go, and give him the funds to repair his car.”
The other Fae nods sharply, though she doesn’t look particularly pleased.
I cast a nervous glance at the man I’m leaving behind, the man who helped me, but I’m surprised to see that, despite sweat pooling along his forehead, he’s smiling.
I let out a amazed breath. Of course... By letting him go, he can warn the others. And if he’s with the SNP, he can work from the safety of an anti-tech field, a field the other Fae proved works all too well against them.
It’s that smile that gives me some measure of comfort when I step out of the jammer’s boosted anti-tech field and into a visually distorted mess, voices in my head screaming at me to return to Koenigin Corp, return to Koenigin Corp, return to Koenigin Corp—
