Lalia hits the ground hand, clinging to the side of the building she’s closest to. My feet go out entirely from under me, a shock of panic rolling over my skin. Zane, closer to me than he is to Lalia, yelps, and slams hard onto the ground on his injured side, knocking right into me.
We’re going to fall.
I have a too-quick second to realize that if I don’t move we’ll die, before my shoulder crashes so hard into the edge of the jagged platform I’m certain it’d be taken out of its socket if I were human. No time to figure out where the rest of the platform is—I manage to grab onto the grating with one hand, my stomach dropping as my feet find no purchase beneath me, my other hand scrambling to find a grip on Zane. I catch his arm, my heart nearly jumping to my throat when his coat rips in my hand, but the skin of his wrist slides into mine, better purchase. I squeeze hard enough that I hope in the back of my panicking mind I don’t break anything. His hand grabs mine in return, my shoulder feeling as if it’s going to be yanked out of its socket despite my enhancements.
From the corner of my eye, I see some less fortunate humans plummet a good thirty or more feet to the platform below. A few aren’t lucky enough to hit one of the platforms.
The forcefields must be broken.
“Shit,” Zane hisses, grabbing my wrist in both hands, body swinging. The metal grating digs into the flesh of my fingers, and he may be bigger than me, but I’m plenty strong enough for this.
Ignoring the pain, I tell him, “I won’t drop you.”
Hauling his ass back up without any purchase isn’t exactly fun. Groaning, I pull myself up toward the platform, trying to lift him at the same time so he can get his own handhold on the razor edge of the platform currently slicing through my coat and into my ribs.
Lalia crawls to the edge with a panicked cry, dazed and off-balance, and reaches over to help me pull him up. She’s smaller than both of us and not of much assistance, but we manage to get him to the edge. I shove him fully up onto the shredded platform before attempting to crawl my way back up. He grabs a fistful of my coat and tries to help, but his hands are shaking and he barely steadies me.
Another shot hits the metal mere inches from my face. I jerk back, nearly losing purchase again, one of my legs slipping back into open air, and try to find who shot at us.
Kel climbs her way up the rest of the stairs to this level.
Well.
She may have been after someone else, but she’s amended her little hunt. I bet our combined bounties are much, much higher.
Vaguely, I hear Zane swearing, knocked off balance as he too whips around, trying to find the source of the shot. Across the platform and past the few people still scrambling away, Kel’s expression twists into something akin to a satisfied smirk. No words needed, I know what she’s up to. Her gun raises again, and I can’t even tell which one of us she’s aiming at.
I dropped my gun when the platform broke, and my other one is hard to grab strapped to my legs dangling over the edge. Yanking Lalia’s out of its holster, I aim over her back and fire with a much steadier aim than I expected, my hands not even shaking with burning adrenaline. A flash of blue lights up the dim space, cracking my ears over the shrill noises of breaking shields and screaming passersby. My eyes flicker with all the temperature changes.
Kel jerks, slamming against the side of the building. Over the commotion, I can still hear her body tumble down the stairs she just came up.
Some amount of silence falls as what’s left of the crowd finally manages to get to safer ground and people try to avoid the cyborg with the gun. Lalia blinks, staring at the place Kel just was, then turns and grabs the back of my jacket, helping haul me up.
“Good shot,” she says, breathless.
“Uh-huh,” I manage, handing her back her gun and grimacing at Zane. He doesn’t look too great, one of the nearly-healed wounds on his chin bleeding from crashing into the metal.
“You alright?”
He shrugs gingerly, “Not dead…thanks.”
More than a little awkwardly, I say, “Yeah, sure—”
More yelling echoes from the levels below, and I remember my thoughts about the cyborg flailing his hands. No way are we sticking around for that.
“Bat, can you find a way over?”
“I’m trying. We nearly got hit by one of the platforms flying loose. The idiots in the other ship are still in some sort of scuffle. At least they detached from the damn railing now…”
“Are you guys okay?” Yvonne interrupts.
“Not dead,” I parrot Zane. He rolls his eyes, so he must not be feeling too badly. Gingerly, I get to my feet and haul the two of them up. The edge of that broken platform is making me nervous. My ribs sting from where the metal sliced through my clothing, but it’s easy to ignore for now. I glance at the stairs Kel fell down—maybe I’ll puke my guts up about it later, but I’m remarkably calm all things considered.
There’s a cyborg staring at us from the bottom of the stairs.
I nudge the siblings back and they get the picture, shuffling further out of its view. I don’t want to outright make a run for it—technically, we haven’t yet done anything wrong if they haven’t seen our bounties. And in all the commotion, we’re the least threatening figures. Maybe he’ll walk away. They probably have checked the bounty sheets, but I don’t think running is my best bet. This number can outrun the siblings anyway, even if Zane were in peak condition.
I really don’t wanna have to fight this thing.
The number doesn’t speak, just keeps staring. And that’s not right. We have emotions programmed out, that doesn’t make anyone stare mindlessly. If anything, it makes them bored more easily, and he should’ve grown tired of looking at us by now. I grind my jaw, the back of my neck prickling. I don’t want to take my eyes off it, don’t want to turn my back. I realize that without Yvonne here, I wouldn’t recognize a ForceZero number if I was staring it in the face. This one can’t be, because it’s wearing the same uniform as the others that are just average Zar authority. The only reason it’s here is because Kel dragged them here for help on a bounty—or something along those lines.
I can’t tell if this is the one that was arguing wildly with the human earlier, but I’m willing to bet.
Zane and Lalia are dead silent, and I ease my way non-threateningly in front of them, still keeping eye contact with the number. Its mouth is slightly open, eyes too wide. I have, once or twice, seen a conditioned number recoil against its programming. Both times were in the controlled environment of Facility Nineteen, and I remember vividly how unhappy Audra was when it happened. Because she never looked disappointed or angry or irritated—it was the few times I saw something like fear or pity in her expression. It stuck with me because it freaked me out.
But even then, I wasn’t in direct line of sight of any of those numbers. Even the crazy unregistered numbers I’ve run into have had time to adjust to their new reality. What if this one is about to snap? Will it go particularly crazy over an obvious unregistered number? With my luck, I’d bet so.
“Bat, hurry up, I think we’ve got a crazy number down here…” I mumble as low as I think I can get away with.
“Working on it.”
We may have a small ship, but the mess of destroyed catwalks and platforms and other vessels still hovering in the hangar isn’t making this easier. Bat probably would’ve fired at Kel with the ship guns if there hadn’t been the danger of taking out a few bystanders.
Another number approaches, stepping over what I assume is Kel’s leg, taking the big male by the arm. I hold my breath. The big one points up at us and the other, a female, follows his gaze. Her expression twitches, but she doesn’t appear all that interested.
“Come on, job’s done,” I hear her say, which I’m uncertain is true given the shouting and shooting still going on two levels below.
The male doesn’t budge. He points again at us, head twitching toward her but still not speaking. Carefully, I edge out of sight, pressing the siblings back into the nearest building, trying to keep my breathing even. There’s a soft exchange of voices, growing louder, in a different language, between the two. Waving the siblings after me, I skirt around the stairs and head down the platform, keeping myself between them and where the crazy number might appear. I hear footsteps on the stairs and shoo them along quicker. The male’s head pops up, turning to find us, and I hear the female trying to get him to come back down, something akin to panic in her voice, which is so unusual in another number it has my heart pounding.
I whisper to Zane and Lalia. “If I say to, run.”
Lalia hits the ground hand, clinging to the side of the building she’s closest to. My feet go out entirely from under me, a shock of panic rolling over my skin. Zane, closer to me than he is to Lalia, yelps, and slams hard onto the ground on his injured side, knocking right into me.
We’re going to fall.
I have a too-quick second to realize that if I don’t move we’ll die, before my shoulder crashes so hard into the edge of the jagged platform I’m certain it’d be taken out of its socket if I were human. No time to figure out where the rest of the platform is—I manage to grab onto the grating with one hand, my stomach dropping as my feet find no purchase beneath me, my other hand scrambling to find a grip on Zane. I catch his arm, my heart nearly jumping to my throat when his coat rips in my hand, but the skin of his wrist slides into mine, better purchase. I squeeze hard enough that I hope in the back of my panicking mind I don’t break anything. His hand grabs mine in return, my shoulder feeling as if it’s going to be yanked out of its socket despite my enhancements.
From the corner of my eye, I see some less fortunate humans plummet a good thirty or more feet to the platform below. A few aren’t lucky enough to hit one of the platforms.
The forcefields must be broken.
“Shit,” Zane hisses, grabbing my wrist in both hands, body swinging. The metal grating digs into the flesh of my fingers, and he may be bigger than me, but I’m plenty strong enough for this.
Ignoring the pain, I tell him, “I won’t drop you.”
Hauling his ass back up without any purchase isn’t exactly fun. Groaning, I pull myself up toward the platform, trying to lift him at the same time so he can get his own handhold on the razor edge of the platform currently slicing through my coat and into my ribs.
Lalia crawls to the edge with a panicked cry, dazed and off-balance, and reaches over to help me pull him up. She’s smaller than both of us and not of much assistance, but we manage to get him to the edge. I shove him fully up onto the shredded platform before attempting to crawl my way back up. He grabs a fistful of my coat and tries to help, but his hands are shaking and he barely steadies me.
Another shot hits the metal mere inches from my face. I jerk back, nearly losing purchase again, one of my legs slipping back into open air, and try to find who shot at us.
Kel climbs her way up the rest of the stairs to this level.
Well.
She may have been after someone else, but she’s amended her little hunt. I bet our combined bounties are much, much higher.
Vaguely, I hear Zane swearing, knocked off balance as he too whips around, trying to find the source of the shot. Across the platform and past the few people still scrambling away, Kel’s expression twists into something akin to a satisfied smirk. No words needed, I know what she’s up to. Her gun raises again, and I can’t even tell which one of us she’s aiming at.
I dropped my gun when the platform broke, and my other one is hard to grab strapped to my legs dangling over the edge. Yanking Lalia’s out of its holster, I aim over her back and fire with a much steadier aim than I expected, my hands not even shaking with burning adrenaline. A flash of blue lights up the dim space, cracking my ears over the shrill noises of breaking shields and screaming passersby. My eyes flicker with all the temperature changes.
Kel jerks, slamming against the side of the building. Over the commotion, I can still hear her body tumble down the stairs she just came up.
Some amount of silence falls as what’s left of the crowd finally manages to get to safer ground and people try to avoid the cyborg with the gun. Lalia blinks, staring at the place Kel just was, then turns and grabs the back of my jacket, helping haul me up.
“Good shot,” she says, breathless.
“Uh-huh,” I manage, handing her back her gun and grimacing at Zane. He doesn’t look too great, one of the nearly-healed wounds on his chin bleeding from crashing into the metal.
“You alright?”
He shrugs gingerly, “Not dead…thanks.”
More than a little awkwardly, I say, “Yeah, sure—”
More yelling echoes from the levels below, and I remember my thoughts about the cyborg flailing his hands. No way are we sticking around for that.
“Bat, can you find a way over?”
“I’m trying. We nearly got hit by one of the platforms flying loose. The idiots in the other ship are still in some sort of scuffle. At least they detached from the damn railing now…”
“Are you guys okay?” Yvonne interrupts.
“Not dead,” I parrot Zane. He rolls his eyes, so he must not be feeling too badly. Gingerly, I get to my feet and haul the two of them up. The edge of that broken platform is making me nervous. My ribs sting from where the metal sliced through my clothing, but it’s easy to ignore for now. I glance at the stairs Kel fell down—maybe I’ll puke my guts up about it later, but I’m remarkably calm all things considered.
There’s a cyborg staring at us from the bottom of the stairs.
I nudge the siblings back and they get the picture, shuffling further out of its view. I don’t want to outright make a run for it—technically, we haven’t yet done anything wrong if they haven’t seen our bounties. And in all the commotion, we’re the least threatening figures. Maybe he’ll walk away. They probably have checked the bounty sheets, but I don’t think running is my best bet. This number can outrun the siblings anyway, even if Zane were in peak condition.
I really don’t wanna have to fight this thing.
The number doesn’t speak, just keeps staring. And that’s not right. We have emotions programmed out, that doesn’t make anyone stare mindlessly. If anything, it makes them bored more easily, and he should’ve grown tired of looking at us by now. I grind my jaw, the back of my neck prickling. I don’t want to take my eyes off it, don’t want to turn my back. I realize that without Yvonne here, I wouldn’t recognize a ForceZero number if I was staring it in the face. This one can’t be, because it’s wearing the same uniform as the others that are just average Zar authority. The only reason it’s here is because Kel dragged them here for help on a bounty—or something along those lines.
I can’t tell if this is the one that was arguing wildly with the human earlier, but I’m willing to bet.
Zane and Lalia are dead silent, and I ease my way non-threateningly in front of them, still keeping eye contact with the number. Its mouth is slightly open, eyes too wide. I have, once or twice, seen a conditioned number recoil against its programming. Both times were in the controlled environment of Facility Nineteen, and I remember vividly how unhappy Audra was when it happened. Because she never looked disappointed or angry or irritated—it was the few times I saw something like fear or pity in her expression. It stuck with me because it freaked me out.
But even then, I wasn’t in direct line of sight of any of those numbers. Even the crazy unregistered numbers I’ve run into have had time to adjust to their new reality. What if this one is about to snap? Will it go particularly crazy over an obvious unregistered number? With my luck, I’d bet so.
“Bat, hurry up, I think we’ve got a crazy number down here…” I mumble as low as I think I can get away with.
“Working on it.”
We may have a small ship, but the mess of destroyed catwalks and platforms and other vessels still hovering in the hangar isn’t making this easier. Bat probably would’ve fired at Kel with the ship guns if there hadn’t been the danger of taking out a few bystanders.
Another number approaches, stepping over what I assume is Kel’s leg, taking the big male by the arm. I hold my breath. The big one points up at us and the other, a female, follows his gaze. Her expression twitches, but she doesn’t appear all that interested.
“Come on, job’s done,” I hear her say, which I’m uncertain is true given the shouting and shooting still going on two levels below.
The male doesn’t budge. He points again at us, head twitching toward her but still not speaking. Carefully, I edge out of sight, pressing the siblings back into the nearest building, trying to keep my breathing even. There’s a soft exchange of voices, growing louder, in a different language, between the two. Waving the siblings after me, I skirt around the stairs and head down the platform, keeping myself between them and where the crazy number might appear. I hear footsteps on the stairs and shoo them along quicker. The male’s head pops up, turning to find us, and I hear the female trying to get him to come back down, something akin to panic in her voice, which is so unusual in another number it has my heart pounding.
I whisper to Zane and Lalia. “If I say to, run.”
