Chains of Loss (3 page)

Her scowl gave way to alertness.  “Then let’s go.”

“My name’s Derek.  Derek Kazenushi.”

“Mine’s Mycah.  This way.”

***

Mycah ran, a litany of curses rotating through her mind.  Why hadn’t Sheralys placed her at the fallen star?  If she’d had more time, she could have covered her tracks enough to slow pursuit.

She’d been lucky on the way there.  The location the prophet had teleported her to had been isolated.  No sign of anyone, orcish or otherwise.  She’d been heading north, at least.  Even though the teleport had been smoother than she had thought possible, having to backtrack would have aggravated her.

She fought back a growl, focusing on the anger.  Anything other than the pain in her gut, the reminder that her prolonged moping had allowed her to get out of shape. 

She skidded to a stop at the edge of the tree line, breathing heavily.  Even so, a smile slid across her face as she surveyed the river.  About twenty meters across, and probably four deep at least.  Perfect.

She turned to face the strange man momentarily. “Hurry!  Orcs won’t cross water!”

It wasn’t precisely true, but it was close enough.  It would buy them time.

She started into the water, and was knee-high before she realized that Derek wasn’t following.  She turned back to face him.  “Well?”

He ran a hand through his hair, then shrugged.  “If you say so.” 

***

Derek silently cued the suit, which slid over his mouth and nose in response.  He didn’t know what else to do.  His home was not a dry place; the Kolchis River ran right past New Athens, but he'd never gotten around to walking down and visiting it.  He’d never been so close to so much water in his life. 

The current tugged at him fiercely as he waded in.  He spread his arms and kept his center of gravity low, trying to stay stable.  The wet ground was even softer, and he sank almost to his ankles with every step. 

They were only a quarter of the way through the river when Mycah went under. Derek hesitated for just a moment and the mud and current conspired to bring him down.  He flailed about, disoriented, and sank to the bottom.  He had to focus; he couldn’t swim, the suit—and his own body—was far too dense, but it also guaranteed that he was in no danger of drowning.  Mycah didn’t have any such protection; where was she?

His eyes burned as he tried to look through the water.  Infrared and radar didn't function underwater, and his normal vision was blurred from the pain.  He should’ve had the suit form a visor or some goggles before wading in.  He twisted himself about.  The current was strong enough to push him about, but not enough to carry him.  If he treated it like being in microgravity, would he have more control over his movements? 

He managed to right himself.  As he did, slender yet strong hands clamped onto his shoulders.  He lurched in surprise, but couldn’t dislodge them. 

His vision finally cleared.  Mycah was on the river bottom, ignoring the current as she dragged him towards the far side of the river.  Suddenly, there was ground that he could reach.  Her hands relaxed and he stumbled in the soggy ground.  His head broke the surface; the water was only a little over waist deep here.

She spoke first.  “You can’t swim?”

He shook his head as the suit retracted.  “I’ve never seen so much water.”

“Where the hell are you from, anyway?”

Derek hesitated.  He didn’t know what he could tell her that she’d consider plausible.  “Another world.”

“I'd guessed.  'What planet is this?'”

Derek shifted his weight and the soft ground gave way beneath him, nearly throwing him back into the water.  He forced his way to the shore.  “We’re safe, aren’t we?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him.  “We’ve probably lost the orcs, but they aren’t the only thing in the wilds.”

“Where are we?”

She didn’t look back.  “Earth.  I already told you that.”

When she didn't elaborate, he sighed and started trudging after her.

They walked for hours, with an admonition to save his breath as her only response to any of his questions.  They finally stopped in a small hollow, after the sun set.

“Orcs don’t like the dark,”  Mycah explained, “and I’m tired.”

Derek nodded.  “If you don't mind, then, I have some questions.”

“We can talk here, but first we need to lay down some rules.  You're new here, right?  You say you know nothing about orcs, right?  Then you'd better trust me and do whatever I say if you want to survive.  If I tell you to be quiet, you be quiet.  You seem like the type who would ask why before shutting up.”  She advanced on him as she spoke, looking him straight in his eyes.  Derek found himself looking away and backing off as she approached.  She paused, eyebrows raised in curiosity.  “What's wrong with you?  Look at me when I'm talking.”

He swallowed and forced himself to look her in the eye, then looked away.  He tried again, and did his best to hold her gaze.  “Sorry.  My people don't do—this—often.” he said lamely.

“This?  This what?  Talk?”

How to explain it to her?  She'd taken things in stride so far.  Derek decided to just throw the truth at her and see how she did at catching it.

“My people—most of them—have cybernetic augments which allow for radio-telepathic communication, which is what we use for most real-world interactions.  Audible, normal speech is unofficially reserved for formal occasions, singing, emergencies, or communication within a family.  We rarely speak aloud, especially not with strangers.  It's...rude.”

Mycah just glared at him, mouth open.  “I understood some of that.  Your people don't talk, you use something else.  Sorcery?”

“N-no.  Technology.  See, I'm a cyborg, and--”

He was cut short by a gruff laugh.  “You’re a cyborg.”  She looked him up and down.  “You don't look like...Hell.”  She stopped, staring at his feet.  He’d begun to sink again.

“What?” 

“How much do you weigh?”

“One thirty-five.”

“No way.”  She circled him.  “Your size, and you weigh a hundred and thirty-five kilos?”

“Sure.  Why?”

“Scrawny as you are, I’dve guessed closer to ninety.  I realized you were heavy in the river, but your footprints…”  She stopped behind him and poked a finger into the soft ground.  “Your footprints are way too deep.”

He looked back at the trail and did a quick calculation.  “Oh.  My suit weighs another hundred.”

“That’s…that’s impossible.  How can you even move?”

“It’s a power suit.  It lifts its own weight.”

“Oh.  Huh.  Anyway.”  She was clearly struggling to get back to the topic on hand. 

“You were cautioning me about stuff?  Be quiet when you say to?”

“Yes.  Right.  You’re a cyborg.  We’ll probably have trouble; can you hold your own?”

He shrugged.  “Don’t worry about me.  I’ll be fine.”

She shook her head.  “A cyborg.  Huh.  What’s special about you?”

He stared at her, mouth agape.  Why would she be so rude? 

“Can you cut things with your hands?”  He shook his head.  The power suit could, but he couldn’t.  “Shoot fire from your eyes?  Fly?”

“None of those, sorry.”

“How strong are you?”

“About average.”  It didn’t occur to him that his average was not her average.

“So in short, as a cyborg, what can you do that’s actually superhuman?”

He finally understood what she meant.  She hadn’t been trying to insult him; she just wanted to learn what his cybernetics could do for him.  For the most part, he only had the citizen package, plus a few extra augments he’d gotten when he’d dabbled in matter fabrication.  He struggled to remember exactly what everything did.  “Well...I can see in several spectra if I want to...”

“What's that mean?”

“I can see in the dark, or see through things, or-”

She put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes, speaking slowly and deliberately.  “If you ever look through my clothing, I will feed you your own eyes.  Got it?”

He nodded.  “Got it.”

“Anything else?”

“Well.  I heal fast.”  That was standard.

“How fast?”

He shrugged.  “Pretty fast.  I had several broken bones yesterday.”

“Not bad, but not the best I've seen either.  You know how to fight?”

Derek flinched.  “I don’t fight.”

“You will if you want to survive.”

He hesitated.  “Do you…fight?”

She ran her hand across the mark on her face.  “What’s it look like?”

“I have no idea.”

“Really.”  She pulled off her gloves, exposing her arms from the elbows down.  Her skin was oddly shiny and smooth.  “What about these?”

He leaned in and studied her arms.  “That’s not normal.”  Definitely not.  Her skin seemed to have collagen deposits underneath it.

“That’s all you have to say?  Not normal?”

“Why?  What are they?”

“Scars.”

Derek slowed his perception of time and queried the mediceps.  He didn't know the word.  A half second of study later, he knew far more about scars than he had ever wanted to learn.

“You…you were burned.”  His gloved fingers brushed against her arm.  “Years ago—you couldn’t have been more than a child.  What—and your eye.  That was more recent - something cut you?”

“Someone.”

“W-why?”

“I have enemies.”  She spat.  “Don’t know which one or what set him off, but he had me jumped at a party.”

“And…”  He traced the color that led away from her eyepatch.  He could see now that the strange purple dye had been on the implement that had destroyed Mycah's eye.  “He did this.  Do you want me to fix it?”

It was her turn to pause in disbelief.  “How?  I mean, can you really do it?”

“Sure.”  He thought furiously for a few fractions of a second.  She wasn’t augmented, which made it much harder, but there was still an easy way to do this.  He ordered the mediceps to start stripping rh proteins.  “It’s not very hard—for a New Athenian.  That’s, that’s where I’m from.  New Athens.”

“What do you want?”

“To go home.”

“No, I mean for you to fix my eye.  What do you want?”

The question made no sense to Derek; he saw that she needed help and so he offered it freely.  He pondered for a moment and decided that the word 'want' might have a slightly different meaning here—something closer to ‘need’.  “I need a few minutes to set up.  That’s really all.  Would you…”  He hesitated, not sure if he should make this offer.

“Would I what?” She replied cautiously. 

“I’m not sure if I should offer, but would you like…augments?  Like a cyborg?”

“The ones you have, you mean?”

“Yeah.  Fast healing, better vision, a simulation and communication suite.  New Athens standard, really.”

“And what would that cost?”

“Let’s see.  You’d need to be well-fed for it to take full effect, but it really wouldn’t take more than an hour for me to get it started.  After that, it’ll phase in as it integrates with your system.  It’ll take a week or two before it’s full strength, but not much longer than that.”

“Okay.  So what do you want?”

Derek thought.  That question again.  “I think…it would be nice to not be the only cyborg in the world.”

The woman looked guarded for a moment, then nodded.  “That’s all there is to it?  No strings?”

Derek shook his head.  What did physics have to do with this?

“Then how do we start?”

***

Mycah did some stretches, mostly to assuage her restlessness, while Derek sat, eyes closed and lips moving slightly.  What was he doing?  Meditations?  Prayers?  She didn’t really care enough to inquire.  The sitting was driving her crazy, but did she dare pace?  It would increase the amount of tracks they left, and with her companion’s unexpected weight they were in a bad enough situation already.

She took the opportunity to look him over.  He was a few centimeters taller than she was, and looked young – probably out of his teen years, but not far.  His hair was dark and longer than hers was, if not by much.  His face might have been handsome if it wasn’t so gaunt; perhaps cyborgs weren’t as great as the legends said.  His people obviously hadn’t been able to give him enough to eat.

“So…what’s this take?  What do I have to do?” she said. 

Derek coughed gently.  “Okay.  We could start now.  Take off that eyepatch.”

“Okay.”  She did so and set it aside.

He pulled a white cloth from his pocket, unfolded it into a scarf-like length and offered her one end.  “Wrap this around your head.  It doesn’t have to cover your mouth, just your eye.”

She pushed it back.  “No way.  Haven’t known you nearly long enough for that.”

“Whuh?” He seemed genuinely confused, but he could just be a good actor.