Warpath (6 page)

This guy, Wheeler,
looks us over and says we’ll do, then looks at the bag he’s
holding and says; ‘some alterations are necessary.’ One of his
guys gets out this blade that’s glowing white hot and starts coming
towards me, then Wheeler grins and says, ‘no, cut her legs off, if
you cut his legs off, the two of them still won’t fit.’”

I’m no hero, but I
see the cyborg turn towards Antonia and I go for the side of him that
isn’t metal plated. No one caught me in time, so I try to tackle
him, and he doesn’t budge. He may as well be a support beam for all
the difference I make, and that metal arm of his backhands me across
the compartment. Wheeler leans down and tells me; ‘give the people
who find you a message for me. Tell them that they should have let me
leave in peace, but they didn’t, so now I’m going to take or
destroy everything they have.’ Then he knocks me out.”

Dom turned for another
sip of water, and Oz helped him once again. Oz was piecing the story
together, what Wheeler was thinking when he chose Dom. From the
report he’d already received, Antonia was roughly the same shape,
and had the same hair colour as Ayan. Dom’s complexion, height and
hair matched Jake’s. Wheeler probably thought he was being clever
when he chose them to deliver his message.

“Thanks,” Dom said
as he finished sipping. “I woke up in the dark. The life support
bag only had enough light for me to make out the top of Antonia’s
face. She told me they took her legs, and I could feel the cold
coming. I didn’t know what was going on, not really, but I wrapped
myself around her as best I could. I couldn’t check to see if she
was bleeding, but I could feel something wet, all I could do was try
to keep her warm. She was in so much pain, but she passed out a
little while later. I did too when the air got thin.”

“Whatever they used
to cut her cauterized her wounds. They haven’t woken her up yet.
You kept her face and head warm enough so she didn’t need the work
you did though, her cheeks and nose are fine.”

“That’s something
then,” Dom said. “I wish I could tell you more, Oz. The next
thing I remember is waking up here.”

“That’s plenty,”
Oz said. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“Please, don’t
worry about it. It doesn’t matter who this madman was after, or
what his reasons were, he’s the one who had it done. If I were the
kind of man who could track down and punish people, I would make him
pay, but I’ll leave that to people like you. You look like that
kind of man.”

“He won’t get away
with this,” Oz said, putting a hand on Dom’s shoulder. “He’ll
get what’s coming to him eventually. Until then, I’m wondering if
you could use a job on a large carrier. We’ll be under way by the
time you’re on your feet. I’m sure you’ll find something worth
doing aboard the Triton.”

“On one condition,”
Dom said.

“What’s that?”

“You visit me while
I’m stuck here,” he replied.

“You have a deal,”
Oz replied.

Jacob Valent could not
walk. No thing in his memory was more frustrating, more difficult to
cope with than that simple fact. For two days his daughter helped him
in the morning for two hours, trying to get his feet, as useful as
clubs, to support him while they dangled from inept ankles with
little improvement.

He was thinking about
his frustration and the sweat that he’d put into so little
improvement when his hand slipped from one of the parallel bars and
he fell to the mat like a marionette with its strings cut. It was the
fifth time.

He kept his grumbling
to himself, but could feel his face flushing red with frustration.
Alice was patient and cool as she helped him back up. He didn’t
fight her at all, those bars seemed so far away from the padded deck,
nearly impossible to reach from where he landed.

With her help he got
them under his shoulders and pushed up. Another thing he didn’t
understand was why everything but walking seemed to come naturally.
His hand-eye coordination was returning, he could sit up without
assistance and his balance seemed a little unsteady, but improved. As
soon as he tried to walk, his legs seemed to forget what they were
supposed to be doing and go on strike.

Alice took a step back
when he nodded, indicating that he felt steady again, even though he
was only holding himself up on the parallel bars using his arms,
there was no weight on his legs. The recovery room aboard the Solar
Forge was rectangular, two stories tall, and all the surfaces were a
plasticized off white colour. He had mats in one corner, a few balls
of various sizes ranging from small for throwing to large for sitting
and balancing. Then there were those damned parallel bars. “All
right Jake, this is easy,” Doctor Messana said from the other end
of what he’d started calling ‘the pill box.’ “I programmed
the muscle memory in your legs, so they should already know what a
walking motion is, you only have to relax and urge yourself to do it,
like you’ve done thousands of times before.”

Jake tried, but the
response he got from his leg was a haphazard flop forward. He stared
at the awkwardly placed foot. “Are you sure you gave me the right
legs? There isn’t someone else with mine having the same problem?”

Doctor Messana shook
her head, her lips pursed. “You’re still trying to learn to walk
when there’s no need to. It’s easier than that. Your muscles know
what to do, you just have to relax and let them do it. You were
standing on your own for a few seconds a couple nights ago, remember
how easy that was?”

Jake nodded and
exhaled. Listening to the Doctor was becoming more frustrating by the
minute. He looked at Alice, who had a neutral expression. Jake took a
step, or at least that’s what he commanded his left leg to do. He
got more awkward lifting and flopping instead.

“Okay, wait,”
Doctor Messana said, shaking her head again.

Alice looked almost as
irritated as Jake felt, only she had her back to the Doctor.

“You’re
concentrating on the small motions required to take one step. Walking
is a reflex combining balance and about two hundred muscles working
together, you can’t control every single one consciously. What I’d
like you to do is forget about one step, and just try to walk to the
other end of the bars. Just take a deep breath, relax and as soon as
you finish exhaling, let go of the bars and walk to the other end.
Alice, give him extra room.”

Jake nodded to Alice,
signalling that it was all right, and she took several steps back as
he inhaled. He made several unwelcome realizations while he slowly
exhaled: his hands were sweaty, his heart was pounding fast, and that
the other end of the parallel bars seemed very far away.

He finished exhaling
and let go of the bars, refusing to look down at his legs. The
realization that he was standing, feeling steadier than he’d felt
since waking up gave him a surge of confidence. He started to take
his first step, then the whole training room went sideways, he
smashed his ribs on the right parallel bar, the padding didn’t seem
to spare him any harm, then he finished falling between them, his
impact on the mats knocking the wind out of him.

“This is easier than
you’re making it, Jake.”

“Stop telling me how
fucking easy this is!” Jake roared as soon as he caught a breath.
“Does this look easy to you?”

“Fine! Do it the long
way, learn to walk all over again!” Doctor Messana said before
storming out of the room.

Alice was at his side,
helping him back up. He was about to ask for a break, but glanced the
other end of the parallel bars, less than three metres away. Even if
he had to drag his feet, he’d make it. “I went too far,” Jake
muttered.

“She had it coming,”
Alice replied. “She couldn’t have expected all that programming
to work perfectly. I get my control freakiness from you, so I know
what this is. You can’t just trust a brand new pair of legs, and
back, and bum to work together to keep you upright unless you’ve
had something to do with it.”

Jake smiled at her and
nodded. “Yeah, I know. I just wish I was better at picking my
battles. These bars are kicking my ass.”

“We’ll take it
slower,” Alice said. “One step at a time, first we just get those
feet under you properly, then you move them forward without putting
much weight on while you keep upright on the bars with your arms.
Baby steps though.”

Jake carefully
concentrated on moving his thigh so his foot landed on the mat just
in front of him, then put a little weight on it. The weight felt
good, his leg was strong enough, but his footing was shaky. He
shuffled forward a little with his right hand on the bars. “Where’d
you learn about teaching someone to walk?” he asked as he started
working on the other leg.

“Ayan, Oz, Minh-Chu
and I all took a physical training course. Doctor Messana wasn’t
thrilled, but we did it anyway, it was Commander Anderson’s idea.
He said he went through the course before Ayan was reborn. He had to
be prepared if all those memories he recreated in her head wouldn’t
attach to her physical body properly.”

“Thank you,” Jake
said.

They didn’t speak as
Jake ponderously took baby steps all the way to the other end of the
parallel bars. He was almost completely dependant on the bars,
keeping most of his weight off his feet, but his legs were doing some
of the motions, if clumsily, and it felt like progress.

“Now, we turn
around,” Alice said, moving to the opening in the bars behind him.

Jake decided to try the
Doctor’s advice one last time. He closed his eyes and simply
desired to turn around one hundred and eighty degrees, willing his
legs to do the work. He got one foot into position, and fell to the
mats between the bars so suddenly that Alice couldn’t catch him.
The mats saved him from numerous bruises. He looked up from the floor
at his daughter, who stared at him in utter shock. “time for a
break?” she squeaked.

He couldn’t help but
laugh. “I guess we do this the hard way,” he said as she sat down
beside him.

The deep pore cleaning
was always refreshing. A pretty, ultra slender attendant bot in a
short red and green kimono handed Governor Tate a large towel as he
exited the treatment booth.

“There is nothing
like steam and a nano scrub to make you feel fresh and new,” he
said to her.

“Yes Sir, will there
be anything else, Sir?” she asked.

“No, you just get in
there and work your magic. The jets have to be cleaned as often as
possible.”

“Yes Sir, thank you
sir,” the bot replied. He would be almost convinced that she was
human, except for her perfect obedience, that was something he’d
had some difficulty inspiring with human servants in the past.

He towelled off as he
walked into his living room, not thinking for a moment that he was
being watched.

“Now that’s
something I’ll never un-see,” said a voice from the large
recliner in the main area of his large, lavishly furnished home above
the clouds. “You should look into the new fitness meds, I hear they
have versions that won’t trigger an allergic reaction or extreme
flatulence for cases like yours, where you’re a little over the ten
percent body fat margin.”

“Who let you in
here?” Governor Tate asked, embarrassed, outraged and alarmed. He
ran for the door of his study, where a rack of rare weapons awaited,
only to have it close swiftly before he could grab one.

“I’m in your
computer system, Governor,” the stranger said. “No running, no
hiding, and no sicking your poor, mistreated attendant bot on me. I’m
amazed that you’ve had her for four months and still haven’t
named her. I think I’ll call her Nancy, she looks a bit like a
Nancy to me.”

Governor Tate wrapped
the towel around his waist, leaving his round belly hanging over. “I
don’t know who you are, but you’re in more trouble than you could
ever imagine. I’m the master of eleven inhabited worlds, and a
fleet like you-“

“Nancy!” the
stranger cried, snapping his fingers. “Get the Governor here
something to wear, his uniform should do.” He leaned forward and
regarded Governor Tate with an impish grin. “You know who I am,
just give your grey matter a minute to work through all those faces
in all those reports. I’m somewhere near the top of the pile, I
guarantee it.”

The man’s manner was
infuriating. He was completely dismissive of the Governor’s
position and somehow in control of everything around him, so it
seemed. There had to be a crack in the man’s armour, or a piece of
information that could help Tate out of his predicament, then this
unwelcome guest would pay for his insolence. “I don’t recall
seeing you anywhere,” he told the stranger. The man had hair down
to his shoulders, a square visage, and eerily penetrating blue eyes.
Details of his face shifted under the skin, then the lips expanded at
the corners, and the nose flattened, shortened and Governor Tate
recognized his visitor. “You are wanted for questioning in multiple
sectors,” he said, calming down. It was Wheeler, a man with a
fleeting relationship to the Order of Eden at best. “Not to
mention, you’re still technically the property of Regent Galactic.”

“So, your war torn
toy is here,” he replied, sitting back in the chair as he watched
the helper bot deliver a dark green uniform to the Governor. “You
Regent Galactic people get a real twist in your knickers when your
technology grows a mind of its own. You know how to make us look good
though, I’ll admit.”

“I’ll never trust
this one again,” the Governor said as he pulled his trousers on.
“It took five months for the fabrication centre to get her just
right, but now that you’ve been in her head….”

“Then I’ll take
her. I’m sure you can have something else made,” Wheeler replied.
“Maybe something with a more human shape. The ultra slim models
never really look human, do they?”