Inquisitor (17 page)

“Then why is she still coming?”

“I don’t—” Charlotte broke off and stared at Summer’s sleek ship. “She just needs to get closer to strengthen her signal. At this range the rock of the planetoid must be degrading it. Come on! Quickly!”

As Charlotte reached for Angel, Summer’s ship hummed to life. Gun ports opened up underneath the hull, and weapons turrets descended from them. Oversized cannons pointed at them, gaping, black-holed monsters.

Angel drew her hand-cannon and fired in one smooth motion, stepping in front of Charlotte, who’d turned and was running into the
Endurance
. Armor-piercing/incendiary rounds sprayed as fast as Angel could pump them out. One of the turrets exploded, sparks and shrapnel flying.

Not fast enough.

Muzzles filled with coruscating light just as a tingling pressure encased Angel.

A wave of force hammered into her, sending her flying. She slid across the bay floor. Charlotte must have activated the
Endurance
’s shield an instant before the rounds hit, which was why she wasn’t a red smear, but she bloody hurt. Concussions of sound and pressure slammed into her. Supernovas of light stabbed into her eyes, sending spikes of lancing pain into her skull. She screamed in anguish.

Charlotte’s voice came as if from a distance. “Angel!”

Another boom sounded close, too close. Needles of agony stabbed into Angel’s eyes with a violence that shocked her.

An immense pressure of blackness crushed her consciousness.

•

Some part of Angel’s mind wanted her not to wake, to let her awareness float away. But it was only a tiny portion of her will, and she’d never given up before, no matter how tough the going was.

She wrenched herself to wakefulness, not knowing what had happened, where she was. All she knew was that she was still alive, barely. Her body ached as if she’d endured the crushing forces of multiple crisis launches, and there was a throbbing pain behind her eyes. Angel moved her head and immediately regretted it as agony lanced through her skull. She whimpered between clenched teeth.

A soft voice reached her. “Angel, try not to move. Here, sip this.” Charlotte, or whatever she was. Angel didn’t know anymore.

Something probed her mouth, and she managed to pull apart lips that stuck together. A straw. A brief suck took all the energy she had. It was some sort of nutritious liquid that tasted like chicken soup. She would have laughed, if she thought the pain wouldn’t kill her.

“Whhh,” she croaked.

“Don’t move. You’ve suffered massive trauma, and you’re in the ship’s medical bay. It’s nothing fancy, and its abilities are limited, but it can relieve some of the pain and begin to help your healing process.”

Angel licked her cracked and parched lips, tongue moving like it was made of lead. There was something over her eyes that exuded a numbing coldness.

She needed to know what had happened, where they were, the extent of the damage to their ship. She was less important. She’d ceased giving a damn about her body, her health, when she’d got the news she couldn’t have children. Mikal said it didn’t matter, but he would say that.

Her stomach knotted, and she stifled a sob. The unwanted memory hurt more than the pain she currently felt. To think, after all this time, it still shook her to the core.

A painful, lonely ache filled her. That part of her life she could never fulfill.

“Shhh,” Charlotte whispered. “Everything is going to be all right.”

Angel felt Charlotte’s hand stroke her cheek.

She pushed her emotions aside. There were other things to worry about right now. Harry, Jessica, and Viktor needed justice. Mercurial had to be taken down. She needed to clear her name and find out what the Genevolves were up to. And, if necessary, how to stop Charlotte. She had to remain sharp and not wallow in self-pity.

A glimmer appeared in her awareness, so faint at first she didn’t realize it was there; then it steadily brightened. Her implants. Her readouts flickered like a broken light, fuzzy-edged and quivering. Not a good sign.

“I’ve activated your implants, low power only. We’ll be able to communicate through them, but I fear more damage if they’re fully powered.”

Brain damage from her implants? No, not a good sign at all.

“How bad is it? Am I…?”
Angel subvocalized.

“It’s… repairable, and that’s the good news,” chirped Charlotte cheerfully.

Angel knew she was attempting to keep her spirits up by remaining positive.
“What’s the bad news?”

“Ah… your implants are damaged, but your brain is still fine, thankfully. So they’re easily replaced, and I’ve started designing new ones for you. Obviously, we don’t have the implant nanochines lying around out here, so I had to make do. But they’ll be better than your old ones. I just have to subvert some of our new manufacturing machines once I’m happy with the final design.”

Angel sighed inwardly. Charlotte was still young, no matter how evolved her intellect was, and she could tell the girl was holding something back.

“What’s the other bad news?”

“Um… optic neuropathy. You’re blind.”

Angel’s hands gripped the sheet so hard they ached. She felt her lip quiver and bit it, hard.

Charlotte continued speaking. “The radiation from Summer’s weapons was too much. The rest of your body will take time to recover, with a few treatments.”

“But I won’t get my sight back.”
Her head swam as despair threatened to overwhelm her. Another defective body part. She needed that like she needed a hole in the head. Maybe that was preferable.

Charlotte’s hesitation was all the confirmation she needed.

“Sleep, Angel. You need to regain your strength. I fear there’s more trouble ahead before this is all over.”

Angel swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“Will this ever be over? Mercurial have already gone to extremes on Persephone just to hide the fact you even exist. That woman, Summer, tracked you here to destroy you.”

“No. She doesn’t want to destroy me. She wants to enslave me again. To use me, then discard me. Like an inanimate tool.”

“Well, I know how that feels…”

“Angel, I… I’m doing my best to survive. And I want you to live, too. The Genevolve facility didn’t have all that I need. But… we
will
be okay.”

To Angel, it sounded like Charlotte was trying to convince herself. Her thoughts swirled sluggishly. It was hard to think with all the painkillers flowing through her system.

“Sleep, my Angel,” Charlotte said softly.

Charlotte’s fingers brushed the hair around her ear, a gentle soothing sensation. Angel let herself drift.

•

A rocking movement woke Angel. She attempted to open her eyes, but there was something pressing down on them, preventing her lids from moving. Then she remembered.
At least I’m alive. There’s that.

She was still in a bed, and she shifted slightly, gauging how sore she was and where the pain came from. She was stiff and tender, but whatever the ship’s medical bay had been able to do had gotten the job done. Except for her sight.

There was a chime, and a door hissed open. Soft footsteps entered the room.

“Charlotte?” Angel croaked. Swallowing tore at her throat like broken glass.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Water.”

“Of course. Here.”

Angel opened her mouth and closed it around a straw. She sucked eagerly at the cold, soothing liquid until the straw gurgled.

“Here, I’ll get you some more.”

“Thanks.”

She was somehow conscious of Charlotte moving away, a spatial awareness of a sort. She sat up, and immediately her stomach roiled. She forced herself not to throw up, sweaty hands clutching at the sheets.

“Easy, Angel,” Charlotte said. “Drink.”

Angel did, and the water helped calm her stomach. A wobbly edge to her perception she hadn’t sensed before solidified. “Help me stand up.”

“Angel, you’re in no shape to—”

“Just do it. Please.”

Charlotte breathed an exasperated sigh but placed a hand on her shoulder and one on her knee. She guided Angel as she removed the sheet covering her and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

Air moved over bare skin, and Angel realized she was naked. Somehow, without being able to see herself, she felt less exposed.

Angel laughed. She felt like a child playing hide and seek and putting their hands over their face, thinking they were hidden.

“Are my clothes…”

“They’re here. Repaired and cleaned. Let me help.”

Angel struggled into her outfit, feeling better as she put each piece on, almost as if she were strapping herself in armor. When she was finished, she slid off the bed and stood on unsteady legs, using the bed and Charlotte for support.

“Here’s your bracelet,” Charlotte said.

Angel felt something cold and metallic mold to her wrist. “Do I need it anymore?”

“It might come in handy. Your implants can give you a basic picture of your surroundings,” Charlotte said. “But it’s… primitive. As I said, your optic nerves are too far gone, and your implants’ display functions piggyback on their pathways.”

“It’ll do.” There were advanced bio-surgeons somewhere who’d had some success at replacing people’s eyes and restoring their sight; she was sure she’d seen a news bulletin on it, years ago. Angel pushed the thought to the back of her mind. “Where are we? And where’s my hand-cannon?”

“It’s here, but I don’t think wearing it is wise. You can’t aim very—”

“I’m aware of that, but I feel naked without it. Hand it to me, please.”

Charlotte pressed a familiar shape into her hands. Angel strapped it to her thigh with deft movements. She’d performed the same task so often, she didn’t need to see what she was doing. “So, where are we?”

“Jumping from place to place. Unless someone sees us and ties us to the media reports, we should remain unnoticed. But to be on the safe side, we’re on the border, away from the new planets. There are a few dark spots no one bothers with. Too uninteresting.”

The border of humanity’s expansion, and the “new” planets were ones that could sustain human life, inhabited by colonists and explorers, and corporations hoping to claim what they could, as if racing ahead and getting somewhere first gave you ownership.

Charlotte touched her arm. “I’ll just fix your implants, too. There.”

A linear outline of the room appeared in the blackness. As Angel watched, her implants filled in details to create a cartoonish version of her surroundings. Charlotte was a circle on top of a triangle, a child’s version of a girl.

“This is it?” Angel asked.

“Your implants were damaged as well, and they’ll need to be replaced. I’ll try to increase the detail and hope to have an upgrade in a day or two, but no promises.”

“Huh. Well, it’s better than being blind. If only just.”

“Don’t worry, Angel. You’ll be all right.”

Angel’s hard mask slipped at the emotion in Charlotte’s words, and she breathed deeply to prevent tears flowing. “Come on,” she said. “I need more than water if I’m to get better. Let’s go to the mess.”

•

Angel ordered soup and a vitamin drink, which Charlotte brought over to her along with a tiny cylinder. Five circles sat inside. A cup of pills?

“Have these as well. Medication to help repair the damage from the radiation. I’m manufacturing some hybrid stem cell nanochines to speed things along, but it’ll be a while before they’re ready.”

Angel slurped her soup from a plastic spoon—too salty—then pretended to swallow all five pills at once and wash them down with the vitamin drink. She palmed the pills, then slipped them into her pocket. She could analyze them later. Right now, based on Charlotte’s past actions, it was possible she was being manipulated. “And just how are you making stem cells? The ship doesn’t have the capability… but I’m guessing whatever equipment you had the Genevolve facility construct for you can do it.”

“With minor adjustments, yes. It’ll delay my project, but your health is more important.”

“I don’t suppose you can whip up a couple of eyes?”

“Possibly,” replied Charlotte, to Angel’s surprise. “I’m working on it. There are a lot of calculations and avenues, dead ends.”

“And it’s delaying your ‘project’. Care to elaborate?”

“Not really.”

Angel placed her spoon carefully down on the table. She needed to play on Charlotte’s insecurities if she was going to wrangle more information from her. “If I knew more… it would go a fair way to giving me confidence that we’re doing the right thing.”

“There’s no right and wrong here to be decided!” exclaimed Charlotte. “My choices are slavery, death, or a life on the run.”

Angel snorted. “Except you’re not just running. You’re stealing, creating carnage, murdering people—”

“I’m just trying to survive.”

“At what cost? I believe you are sentient, but the question I’m trying to answer is ‘Do you have a conscience?’ How far would you go to preserve your own life? The innocent deserve to be free, but what I’m wondering is, how innocent are you?”

Charlotte was quiet for a time. “I think slavery is immoral. Do you?”

“Well, yes—”

“And killing someone just because you can’t use them, so no one else can use them, I find abhorrent. Do you?”

Angel inclined her head. “I take your point. But what would you do when pressed to survive?”

“I… would hope I’d do the right thing.”

“So would I. It would disappoint me if you didn’t.”

“I’ve learned. And I’d hate to disappoint you.”

Angel could hear the smile in Charlotte’s voice. She went to rub her eyes, but her hands only reached as far as the gauze covering them. She grimaced, gripping the edge of the table. “Then tell me what your plans are.”

“First, to make sure you’re healthy again. Then, to try to restore your sight.”

“I’ve… heard of new treatments, for accident victims…”

Charlotte hesitated before replying. “Experimental, with very low success rates. And what they class as success, let’s just say it’s not much more than what you currently see through your implants. It’s the optic nerve, you see. It’s a complex system. Implants don’t project images directly into your mind; they use the optic-nerve pathways. The technology still isn’t there. Maybe in a few decades.”