Inquisitor (20 page)

[Angel…] growled Charlotte.

“Do it,”
Angel told her. “And you, Crissalt, retire somewhere nice and quiet. Get out of banking and disappear. And keep your mouth shut.”

She turned and exited the apartment.

•

Exactly seventeen seconds after Angel left Crissalt, the egg Charlotte had left inside Mercurial’s system hatched. Multitudes of commands were sent, identifying and confirming the identities of over twelve thousand of Crissalt’s bank’s heaviest debtors. Charlotte’s code cross-referenced and sorted them until it had classified the ones most in need, those people taken advantage of and bled dry.

Mercurial’s accounts on this planet were drained, and the funds siphoned to the deserving 9,311 people. Amounts were split into hundreds of thousands of small payments, routed through hundreds of legitimate companies. Then, the egg wiped all trace of Mercurial’s accounts from every system. It was as if they’d never existed. It would be months before Mercurial would make sense of the mess and realize what had been done. They’d come to the conclusion there was nothing they could do to retrieve the funds.

•

By the time Angel arrived back at the ship, most of Charlotte’s pirated inventory was already aboard. The cargo hold was half full of massive metal containers and crates.

Angel made her way to the bridge, where she found Charlotte lounging in the copilot’s seat, legs hanging over the side, swinging back and forth. She had a wide smile on her face.

“I’ve created a headache for Mercurial,” Charlotte said. “But… I realize now it was a petty thing to do. It won’t hurt them too much.”

Angel settled into her seat. “It wasn’t petty. It was part of you realizing you can help other people. Mercurial created you for their own purposes, and they wanted to enslave and use you; but they’re no better or worse than hundreds of other corporations out there. You should let Mercurial go, find your own way. The Genevolves are more important now. They’re pulling the strings.” She let on that much, but kept Crissalt’s information to herself. At this stage it didn’t make a difference.

“Exactly.” Charlotte let out a sigh. “I’ve let my anger for Mercurial blind me. They’re nothing. I was distracted by them. I need to forge my own path.”

Chapter 12

Angel shuffled out of bed and into the bathroom. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when Charlotte pinged her implants. She wanted her to come to the medical bay.

Angel rinsed her mouth and wiped foam from the corners of her lips. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her implant-enhanced vision had improved overnight—something Charlotte had done—but it still wasn’t the best. She searched in vain for the faint scar across her cheek. She reached up and felt its ridge with her fingers, a shrapnel wound she’d picked up on a botched mercenary mission. Everything smaller was still fuzzy or nonexistent.

She yawned and struggled into her clothes. She wasn’t in a good mood—probably a lack of caffeine, or the fact she was effectively blind. She ran her fingers across the bandages taped over her eyes.

She was slowly unearthing information and evidence, but unless she could deal with the Genevolves and nail some of the compromised Inquisitors, she couldn’t risk coming in from the cold. It was a mess, that was for sure. Would she ever be able to fix it and go back to working as an Inquisitor? Angel shook her head. It was doubtful. The possibility was virtually nonexistent. Too much was at stake, and whatever the outcome, the consequences would alter the future.

It had been five days since they’d used Crissalt. Five days of hurtling through space. Random jumps. Charlotte had barely said a word, busy with whatever she was doing. Charlotte’s automatons and the machines she’d made were working around the clock to manufacture… something. Various somethings.

Charlotte had changed over the last few days. Not her appearance. She was still a young girl with penetrating green eyes. No, there was a change in her demeanor. Her attitude. Even the way she spoke. It was as if she’d matured, become more serene, in the limited time they’d spent together, years passing in the space of days.

Angel strode through the dimly lit corridors of the ship. As she approached the medical bay, faint clanging and a distant hum reached her ears, all the way from the cargo hold: Charlotte’s machines at work.

The door to the medical bay was closed. Angel brushed her hair from her face and knocked.

“Come in, Angel,” she heard Charlotte say.

Inside, Charlotte was fiddling with a tray filled with small cylinders. She held something in her hand, a tiny rectangle with a line sticking out of it. Angel couldn’t distinguish what it was.

“I’m filling a syringe,” Charlotte said calmly.

She moved the object to three different cylinders, pausing at each one. She was obviously mixing a cocktail of three different drugs.

“I hope that’s not for me,” Angel said.

“It is. But don’t be alarmed.”

Angel hugged her arms across her chest. “You’re joking, right?”

“Come here. Sit, please.” Charlotte’s stick-arm pointed to the medical bay chair.

To Angel, it seemed like a bigger version of a dentist’s chair. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

Charlotte placed the syringe on the tray and turned to face her. “Angel, I asked you here because I want to help you. It’s my fault you’re in this mess. And my fault your eyes were damaged. I feel terrible about it. I didn’t want to wait until we could find an advanced bio-surgeon who’d be amenable to doing the work on the side. And in any case, they wouldn’t be able to do much for you. So I designed replacements myself. I’m quite pleased with the results. It was easy, once I did a bit of research and took some time to think about it.”

Angel didn’t know what Charlotte’s intellect quotient would register if she tested her now, but with the improvements she’d been making to her own systems since they’d stolen the ship, it was likely to be far more than 1.93.

“It sounds simple for you,” Angel said quietly.

“I made various improvements on the designs that are currently out there. Some were troublesome. The breakthroughs didn’t come easily, but I got there in the end.”

“So, in a few days you improved on cutting-edge technology that’s taken scientists decades to develop?”

“Yes,” said Charlotte simply. “I’ve completed your implant nanochines as well, so while you’re under, we can replace your old implants.”

“I see.”

Charlotte must have heard the reluctance in her voice. She came over to Angel and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll be fine. Better than fine.”

And for some reason, Angel believed her. She knew Charlotte wouldn’t hurt her, and had her best interests at heart. She also realized Charlotte thought she owed her a debt that couldn’t be repaid. Whatever her other plans, whether they involved Angel or not, she knew Charlotte would push herself to do the best she could for her. With her intelligence, if she thought she could do better than the best bio-surgeons money could buy, then she probably could.

Angel drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, then nodded. “All right.” She stepped to the chair and lay down.

Charlotte approached as the medical bay’s automaton descended from an opening in the ceiling. It had five arms; at the moment all of them were empty of implements.

Charlotte held up the syringe, and one of the arms took it from her.

Angel cut the feed from her implants and felt the sharp prick of the needle on her inner elbow. Once again, she waited for oblivion.

•

Angel became slowly aware she was regaining consciousness. She couldn’t see anything, and her eyes throbbed with a constant gnawing pain. Even over her fear, she felt a sense of hope, of expectation. Though, what Charlotte was able to conjure up with her makeshift machines and cobbled-together technology left her shivering with worry.

Whatever she was lying on, presumably the medical bay chair, began to rise, pushing her into a sitting position. Her body felt fine, except for a dull ache in her head and the agony of her eyes.

The chair stopped with a jerk, and Angel whimpered as a fresh wave of pain spasmed in her sockets. There was a hiss to her left. Almost immediately, her senses dulled, as if a pressure on her had been removed, and she thought she could almost float away, if she wished.

“There, there, Angel.”

Charlotte. She sounded pleased.

“Everything will be fine. It went much better than I hoped.”

Angel felt a twinge in her chest as it tightened. She didn’t want to go back to the half-reality her implants had been able to provide.

She flexed her fingers, one by one. At least she could move, if only a little.

Angel went to scratch her arm and found she couldn’t. Her wrists were restrained.

Fabric rustled as Charlotte moved. “Here, let me remove those. I just didn’t want you rubbing your new eyes while you were asleep. You’ll still need time to heal before they’ll work properly.”

Angel’s stomach flipped.
My new eyes?
she thought. Charlotte hadn’t repaired her optic nerves, she’d replaced her eyes with… what? Devices of her own creation?

The tightness around her arms disappeared as the restraints were removed, and Angel scratched the itch on her inner wrist. Her fingers found the cannula of an intravenous drip.

“You were under for quite some time, so I needed to keep your fluids up. It was a delicate operation, and I had to manufacture specialized nanochines to help.”

Angel ran her tongue around her parched mouth. “Could I have some water, please?”

“Yes, of course.”

A straw was placed against her lips, and Angel sucked greedily. Too quickly, the cold water ran out. She sat back. “How soon?” she breathed.

“I can take the coverings off now, if you’d like?”

“Please.”

Again, she heard the rustle of clothes, then felt Charlotte’s warm fingers on her face. There was a gentle tugging on the skin surrounding her eyes; then the inside of her eyelids became brighter as the bandages were taken away.

“I can see light,” Angel said, relieved.

“Good. As I said, you’ll take some time to adjust, and the discomfort will fade, but you’re pretty much healed.”

“Pretty much?”

“Close to a hundred percent. A few basis points off. I could have made your eyes better… but I didn’t think you’d like that. I might send my research and specifications out the next time we’re near an inhabited area. A lot of people could benefit.”

Angel could sense Charlotte wasn’t bragging; she’d just focused her mind and resources on what needed doing. And then she was going to freely hand out what she’d done for no reward, other than to help people.

Angel shifted her weight, and stiff muscles twinged in protest. “How long was I out?”

“A few days.”

“And I take it we’re still running?”

“Yes. I… I’m not sure what to do next.”

“We’ll come up with something. Can I open my eyes?”

“Oh, yes. Just a little at first, so the lights don’t hurt them. Here, I’ll dim them.”

The glow penetrating her eyelids faded but didn’t completely disappear. Angel held her breath and opened her eyes.

The room was dim; the only illumination came from the control panel on the wall opposite her. But she could make out shapes: her hands, the medical bay automaton, Charlotte’s silhouette.

Gradually, the objects in the room came more into focus. It was getting brighter, too, though slowly. Charlotte must have been edging up the illumination.

Angel looked at Charlotte’s beaming face, at her long golden hair, into her vivid green eyes.

Charlotte winked at her. “Good as new.”

Angel almost cried with relief. She reached out and placed a hand on Charlotte’s cheek, stroking it with her thumb. “Thank you.”

“I wanted, and needed, to do this for you.” Charlotte looked away, as if embarrassed. “Much like a baby’s after it’s born, the eyes will need time to grow and adjust. And your mind will have to adapt to the new optic-nerve pathways. You’ll find your focus shifting occasionally, and it might take a few weeks for things to settle down. Here.”

Charlotte moved to a side table and picked up a flat object. She held it up. A mirror.

Angel stared at it. Her brown eyes were now green. A startlingly vibrant shade, much like Charlotte’s.

“They’re green,” she said, obviously. Heat flooded her face, and she tried to hold onto her temper. And failed. “What have you done? How immature and selfish! They were my eyes, an essential part of me, who I was, who I am. And you changed their color on a whim?”

Charlotte’s voice grew small, almost frightened. “I thought we could be sisters.”

“Do you even understand how deep a violation this is? You didn’t consider my wishes or ask my consent. You
changed
me because you wanted to.”

“I’m sorry…” Charlotte looked genuinely lost and shaken, tears spilling from her eyes. “I didn’t… I never…”

Angel could sense the confusion and longing in Charlotte’s voice. All alone. Created from the brain of a dead girl. A sentient mind raised without parents or siblings. Never having had anyone to turn to, or explain to her the difference between right and totally fucked up.

Until now.

Rage burned through Angel, but breaking the girl into pieces wouldn’t get her what she wanted.

“Listen carefully, you may have been motivated by loneliness, but consent and agency, free will, is what makes us human. Charlotte, you’re still treating me the way Mercurial treated you. And until you realize people aren’t probabilities to be moved around at your desire, you’ll never be free from their influence. All you had to do was
ask
.”

Charlotte nodded through her sobs. “You forgive me?”

Not even close,
thought Angel.

“You can make it up to me, though,” she said. “Sometime.” Despite her rage, Angel knew she needed to tread carefully. Charlotte was distressed and on edge, and if she was pushed too far, who knew what she’d do? “We’re together, here. It’s a start, and it’ll have to be enough for now.” For all Charlotte’s intellect, and now all her resources—a portable high-tech manufactory to make whatever she wanted—she was still a lonely child. Would she overreact the way a child would? What would happen if she threw a tantrum? Angel needed to guide Charlotte, but the girl had enough to think about at the moment.