3.4 Nuts and Bolts

4 – Loose Bolts

Hector reluctantly agreed to do some clothes shopping before he, Sass, and Iris sat down to eat, but only because he figured their hunger would speed the process along. He was right, though not because Sass and Iris tried to hurry; his recalcitrance and grumbling did the job instead.

In the end, he picked up several utilitarian sets of clothes—basically combat fatigues in black and gray. After he’d gotten some comfortable boots, Iris talked him into visiting a more upscale shop, where the two women helped him pick out two “casual” suits and a pair of shoes that, while comfortable, seemed far too expensive for their limited utility. As they were leaving that shop, he spied a pair of black cowboy-style boots that brought back early memories of his days in the Guard. In a fit of uncharacteristic nostalgia, he bought them, too.

As a final stop, he visited a sportswear emporium and bought several gi-style exercise outfits and plenty of undergarments. As they left, with Hector laden down with bags, Iris looked him over and said, “Are you sure you won’t consider another store or two?”

He scowled. “Iris, I have two drawers in my cabin.”

Her eyes widened, as though she hadn’t considered that Gladia didn’t have staterooms for everyone aboard Maidensong. “Oh! Well, you’ve got to hang those suits up, Hector. I hope you have at least a small closet!”

He shook his head, shouldering the garment bags containing the suits in question. “I’ll put some hooks on the wall.” He nudged Sass. “Let’s get some food.”

A few minutes later, they were seated in a booth near the back of a restaurant and bar called Drifter’s Loose Bolts. Despite the name, it was relatively clean and crowded, and Hector found it easy to sink into the anonymity of the busy, noisy place. He sat across from Sass and Iris, facing the entrance; not that he expected trouble, but he figured it was best if he could see it coming if he was wrong.

While they all sipped their beers, waiting for food, he noticed how Sass would periodically press her hand to her coat, and he knew she was subconsciously confirming the neurodeck with the gold-class aura system was still there. He grinned at her, already feeling a little warm from the beer—he’d let his thirst get the better of him and drained most of the glass in a pair of gulps. “Excited?”

Iris giggled, sipping her very pale beer and watching the other woman. Sass glanced at her, and she probably would have blushed, but instead her tattoo darkened. “Of course!” Her tone was full of bluster at first, but then she snorted softly, smiling as she looked at Hector. “I can’t think of anything else!”

“We’ll get that installed when we get underway,” he said.

“They can do it on the ship? You’re sure?” Sass glanced at Iris, including her in the question.

Hector grunted, nodding. “Any decent auto-doc can install a port. The magic’s in the deck—takes a hell of a lot of know-how and a factory the size of a small city to put all that circuitry together.”

Iris cleared her throat, pushing her glass around on the smooth tabletop. “My father often reminds me how much my neurodeck cost him—how he could have expanded the mine sooner or bought out this or that supplier with the money he spent on me.” She smiled at Sass. “And yours has an aura system built into it. You’re going to have a small fortune riding around in your skull.”

Hector glowered. “Iris, leave it alone.” He focused on Sass, who was clenching one of her chrome fists to the point where he could hear the alloy grinding and squeaking. “Hey, listen.” When she looked up at him, he said, “The cost of your aura system is nothing to me. You understand? That money didn’t come from Gladia; it came from me. She owed me for it, and she owes me a hell of a lot more besides. You’re my student, and I want you to be capable. End of discussion.”

Iris held up a finger and tentatively said, “I didn’t mean it in a bad way—”

Hector cut her off. “Stop, Iris. You’re too damn smart for that; everything you say is precision-guided to evoke a reaction. I’ve known too many people like you.”

Iris clamped her mouth closed and jerked her head to the right, looking more at the wall than at Hector. He immediately understood why her father had encouraged her to maintain such a youthful appearance; his instinct was to feel guilty for being so harsh with a “child.” Sass fell for it, of course, immediately grasping Iris’s hand and saying, “It’s okay! I wasn’t really upset.”

Hector sighed and sipped his beer. After a moment, a kid wearing a dirty apron brought their personal pizzas to the table, and the distraction helped them all move past the moment. While she chewed, Sass said, “I’d been thinking a lot about getting an aura system, but I never thought I’d have a ghost chip. Does it make you feel any different?”

Hector shook his head. “You won’t notice it.” He was on his second beer by then, but the buzz hadn’t really intensified. When he realized that, he almost wanted to put his new constitution to the test. How much alcohol would it take to get my reaper-spliced body drunk?

//Spliced is the wrong word…//

Not being literal.

Iris put down her beer—almost empty—and took another bite of her nearly cheese-less mushroom and garlic pizza. While she chewed, she stared at Hector, and when he looked away, scanning the crowd and thinking about heading back to the ship, she said, “I don’t like being the way I am.”

Hector looked at her, his brows drawing down in an involuntary scowl. He’d seen that move before, too. Here comes the sob story. He tried to head it off. “Forget it, Iris. I was too hard on you.”

“No, you’re reacting because, like you said, you’ve had experience with too many people like me. I wonder, though, what did you mean? Are you going to give us any more insight into the man to whom we’ve all tied our futures?”

Well, I guess I slipped up.

//Not exactly…//

Hector snorted, cheered as always by Evie’s immediate support. “I’ve been around, Iris. Anyway, we’re on the same team. Let’s just let it go.” He nudged his empty pizza pan, and Iris pushed hers closer.

“I can’t eat any more.”

It wasn’t exactly his favorite combination, but Hector was hungry, so he accepted the offering, dumping some red chili flakes on her remaining two slices. “Thanks.”

While he chewed a bite, Sass asked, “Can you explain to me why you told that man you wouldn’t let a ghost into my head? Was that because you thought the neurodecks had been used?”

Hector swallowed, nodding. “Once someone installs a neurodeck containing an aura system, their engram gets all tied up with the AI. If either of these decks has had a former owner, there’d be no way to separate them—not cleanly. We’d be putting part of that person into your head.”

Iris seemed intrigued and leaned closer to say, “So we’re trusting that the aura system really was added to a fresh neurodeck?”

Hector nodded. “Sure, but we can have the ship scan it when we get back. Mae will be able to see if we were lied to.” As he picked up Iris’s last slice, he glanced at the time. “We should leave soon in case Silver can get that tech to pay a visit; we’re leaving port in three hours.”

“Want to tell me what he’s going to be looking at?” Iris asked.

Hector took a bite, arching an eyebrow at her while he chewed.

“I’m not fishing—it’s normal curiosity!”

Sass nodded, nudging Hector’s shin under the table with her foot. “Don’t be mean.”

He gulped the last of his beer, washing down the bite, then said, “If I get it sorted out, maybe I’ll share. Right now, there are too many unknowns.”

Iris clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “One mystery after another with you.”

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“Ready?” he asked before stuffing the last of the pizza into his mouth.

###

An hour later, while the crew readied the ship for departure and everyone scrambled to make last-minute purchases before spending more than a month away from port, Hector led a slender, human-looking synth from the airlock to his quarters. The technician had introduced himself as Vod, and as with many advanced synths who led lives like ordinary citizens, that was it—no surname. Of course, he’d have some kind of Imperial identifier, but it would be strange for him to recite a twenty-four-digit code.

As he reached his room, Hector looked over his shoulder at the synth, noting his well-worn gray coveralls, his metallic tool case, and his strange, oversized, multi-irised eyes. “It’s in here.”

“It,” Vod said with a chuckle. “You know my rate’s the same whether or not I can fix whatever it is, right?”

“Yeah, not a problem.” Hector opened his door and walked into the room. He picked up the suitcase and brought it to the middle of the room, where he laid it on its side. “Sorry, no table.”

Vod shook his head. “Perks of mechanical joints.” He knelt on the plasteel floor before the case. “You have the code, I assume?”

“Yeah, but before we open it, do you have a local jammer in that case of yours?”

The synth looked at him with his unsettling eyes, perhaps considering whether to part ways then and there. After a moment, though, he slid his case to the side and opened it, taking out a small black disc. “This should work.” He set the disc on the floor and tapped it twice. It chirped, and then a high-pitched tone sounded in Hector’s ears, and a line of static ran through his vision.

//We’re offline.//

Good.

Hector sat on the edge of his bunk and leaned forward, typing the access code into the case. The locks clicked open, and a bit of air hissed out as the seals loosened. “Just a minute,” he said, dragging it toward himself and opening it so the lid shielded the contents from Vod’s view. The drive-core cipher and the rift pearl were both wrapped in cloth, but he figured he didn’t need Vod’s fancy eyes trying to figure out what else was hiding in the case. He took out the food container with its foil-wrapped treasure and closed the case.

He handed the container to Vod. “You’re going to want to wear gloves.”

The synth looked at him, blinking once. “My flesh is synthetic, and I have antimicrobial nanites.”

Hector shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Vod removed the lid from the container and wrinkled his nose at the scent of long-rotten meat. Hector clenched his jaw against the smell. The synth muttered, “More and more, I begin to question the life choices that led me to take this job at the last minute.” He took out the foil and gingerly unwrapped it.

As the metallic bracelet appeared, Vod hummed with interest, turning it slowly and examining it briefly from every angle.

“I would have removed the bit of arm, but—”

“But the needles were holding it in place, and you were in a hurry?”

Hector grunted. “Been around the block, I see.”

“This is a beautiful piece of tech. Mr. Silver neglected to mention quite how rare this antiquity would be. I’m pleased. In any case, I can see why you had it shielded. Even now, it’s attempting to transmit an emergency signal.”

“That’s what I’m hoping—”

“Well, luckily for you, Xan Silver chose the right expert to send your way. I specialize in this sort of thing. I’ll be able to disable it. It’s also tied to the DNA of the unfortunate individual to whom this bit of flesh belongs.” He looked at Hector. “Belonged?”

“He’s dead.”

“Right. I assume the reason you have me in this small room, rather than the engineering bay or someplace with a table, is—”

“Yeah, right—I don’t want word of this getting out.”

“Understood. I deal with valuable artifacts frequently; many of my clients prefer to keep their stewardship to themselves.”

“Well,” Hector said with a shrug, “sometimes it’s not worth putting another target on your back.”

Vod tilted his head, looking up from the device. “Another?”

Hector only smiled. “How long?”

“It’s just a matter of a forced reset. I’m familiar with this manufacturer—Comet Systems. They were active between BAE 845 and BAE 620.”

“So, what? Like twelve hundred years ago?”

“Roughly.” Vod was turning the bracelet this way and that, his eyes making unsettling little clicks, and after a few seconds, he reached into his case and took out a small deck with a pair of electrical leads attached to the rim.

Hector settled down to watch as the synth delicately probed the interior of the bracelet until, after a good five minutes, during which nothing seemed to happen, the flexible, nearly invisible needles on the bracelet’s interior slid home with a delicate snick.

“Progress,” Hector observed.

Vod hummed softly, nodding. He turned the bracelet over and gave it a shake, allowing the black, rotten hunk of flesh and bone to fall into the container. Then he took a small spray can from his case, spritzed the interior of the bracelet, and used a pen-sized device to blow out the solvent and remnants of flesh.

Hector put the lid on the container, setting it aside; he’d toss it in the recycler on his way to the elevator. Meanwhile, Vod picked up his little deck and began probing the bracelet again. “I’m in now. Initiating the reset and wiping the owner profile.” As he spoke, the gravity mantle vibrated; previously invisible seams opened, allowing it to expand briefly before shrinking again.

When it stopped moving, Vod held the device out to Hector. “It’s done.” As Hector took it, the technician said, “It will pair with the next person who puts it on. I’m afraid modern near-field communication systems won’t connect with such devices, so if you want to enable the emergency beacon again, or change ownership, you’ll need someone like me. I could make you an interface device, but it would be a bespoke construction and quite costly.”

Hector nodded, taking the bracelet and carefully sliding it into his pocket. “Maybe down the road.”

As Vod collected his tools, including the jamming device, Evie spoke up: //Mae wants to be sure we’re okay. I’ve reassured her.//

Good. Can you ask her to confirm that there aren’t any signals emanating from my room?

//Confirmed. The gravity mantle is silent.//

Vod snapped his case closed and stood, so Hector followed suit. He picked up the food container, wrinkling his nose, and gestured to the door. “You’ve earned your pay.”

“Well, the job certainly could have been more difficult. I’m sure you understand that my rate won’t change just because I finished quickly.”

“Nope! I’m authorizing my AI to send you your fee now. Let’s see, your standard rate is forty-five hundred for the first four hours, right? I promised to double your rate, so—nine thousand bits are on their way.”

Vod nodded. “Just so. Rest assured that with the price of my service, you’ll receive the utmost discretion; in fact, I’m already encrypting the memories of this engagement. By the time I’m off the ship, our interaction will be impossible to uncover by an interloper.” He tapped his temple, smiling.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Holding the food container well away from them both, Hector opened the door and stepped out. “I’ll walk you to the airlock.”

###

Later that evening, Hector sat on his bunk, cradling his head. The gravity mantle was safely back in the shielded case, but he still hadn’t decided what to do with it—use it himself or give it to one of his more…vulnerable companions. He was leaning toward keeping it. He couldn’t put a mantle around everyone’s wrist, but he could damn well use it to defend them all. Unfortunately, the universe seemed determined to kill him from within before he could make the decision.

The grav-drive’s efforts to push the ship away from the station and break orbit were combining with his aura system’s none-too-tender ministrations to give him a splitting headache. Worse than the headache, waves of nausea rolled over him periodically, and he’d already emptied his guts into the toilet twice. “I thought I needed nutrients. Can’t you take it a little easy, Evie?”

//Hector, you know this part of the process is automated—I design the protocol, but once it’s initiated, it’s out of my hands.//

“Everything’s going to hit me at once. I can feel it. We gotta stagger this shit better in the future.”

//I tried! I thought for sure some of your corpus vivum enhancements would come sooner, and that would have made this part easier…//

Hector continued to massage his skull and was contemplating trying to drink some water when his door chimed. “Tell them to go away.”

//It’s Lemon and Sass.//

“Ah, dammit! Sass. I told her we’d do the install when we took off…”

The door chimed again, and this time, when Hector only groaned, Evie opened it.

“Oh, my!” Lemon said.

“Gah! It reeks in here!” Sass cried.

“Go flush the toilet, Sass,” Lemon said, hurrying over to Hector. “Have you been sick?”

“Didn’t I flush?” Hector mumbled.

He heard the toilet, and then Sass came out, closing the little bathroom door. She had her sleeve over her face and lowered it long enough to say, “You’re going to need to pay the custodial crew extra.”

“It’s the damn grav-drive…and my system,” Hector muttered. He looked up, eyes watering, at Sass. “Can we do your thing in the morning?”

Lemon gently squeezed the back of his neck, and her hand felt like ice against his feverish flesh. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll go with her. I’m sure Mathews or Kristy will come—”

“No!” Sass said, hurrying over and sitting on the edge of the bunk beside Hector. “I want you there, so we’ll wait. Will you, um, will your system be done by morning?”

“If it isn’t, I’m going to jump out the airlock.”

“Oh, poor thing!” Lemon said. Her hand felt like something wonderful—impossibly cool and somehow kneading his neck muscles in all the right spots. “We should let him rest, Sass.” She pushed against his shoulder, steering him toward his pillow, and Hector didn’t fight it.

“On my side,” he muttered. “The damn drive.”

“What can I get you?” Sass asked. “Water?”

“Yeah,” he grunted. “Thanks, Sass.”

“Anything else?” Lemon asked, moving to the foot of his bed and working on the release straps for his new boots.

//You’ll need food when this update finishes. You’re going to want dense, easy energy—sugar.//

“Some candy bars.”

“You mean protein bars?” Sass asked.

“Those too.”

Lemon sat beside him and resumed her gentle kneading. “Okay. We’ll get you fixed up. Think you’ll be better by breakfast? Some of the others are eager to talk to you.”

“Orin wants to know if training starts tomorrow,” Sass added.

“Tell Mathews she’s in charge of it,” Hector mumbled. She responded, but he barely heard her; Lemon’s rhythmic strokes had driven the vertigo from his mind, and he was fading quickly, sinking into the oblivion of a body and mind utterly drained by a hungry aura system.

He didn’t know if Lemon and Sass stayed with him much longer, or if just Lemon did, but later, when he woke in the middle of the night and glimpsed the flashing icons indicating his system had finished with him—for the time being—he told himself they had stayed awhile. The thought made him smile as he wolfed down a chocolate bar and drained a bottle of water before immediately falling back to sleep.