Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Built in fire, tested in ruin—I carry the code that cannot break.
“How much for the PhaseTether?” she asked the coder selling mods in the next tent over.
“What the hell am I gonna do with PhaseTether?” I nearly guffawed. “Myra, it only works on gods. Where in the holy hell are we gonna taze a god with PhaseTether in the hell-fucked Outlands?” Then I eyed the coder. Givin’ him a look. “Probably doesn’t even work. Prolly gonna hit me with a fuckin’ mandatory update the moment I need it, isn’t it?”
The coder scoffed. “Maybe the better question is, what kind of augment doesn’t update his mods before deployment? There’s no updates in the Outlands, augment.” He threw that word around like an insult. “Because there’s no functional datanet.”
Myra was frustrated by this time. Absolutely done with me. Because this was my general attitude about everythin’ we’d bought that day. “For fuck’s sake, how unimaginative do you have to be not to picture a scenario where PhaseTether saves your ass? Ya know what? Forget it. I’ll take one, he’s a hard pass.”
I rolled my eyes. Sighed. Slouched a little. Gave in. “Fine. Hook me up too.” Then I slid him my Versi-mod cartridge across the makeshift counter and turned my back while Myra took care of the credit exchange.
I stand with those who stand beside me.
I didn’t know it at the time, but that would be the last aftermarket Versi mod Myra would ever talk me in to.
Because two weeks later I shot her in the head.
Their names are my armor; their memory is my shield.
I’m sittin’ on the floor of the train, cradlin’ a limp Clara in my left arm while I hold the Versi at high-ready with my right, when it rolls to a stop.
The doors hiss as they slide apart. I’m aimin’ for the head.
I got sick of the fuckin’ worker bots eight factories back when we pulled into Zeta. Started shootin’ ‘em as they tried to board my train. So this train is empty, save for Clara and me.
In their silence, I move on.
But this time, at the Xi Factory—it’s not a worker who appears in my doorway. It’s Lover Boy. Holdin’ a limp red-haired woman in his arms. I don’t actually recognize him. He looks nothin’ like the man I saw fleeing Tau City with this same fuckin’ woman lookin’ the same fuckin’ way.
But it’s him.
Lookin’ so much like me, my heart thumps.
He’s even got the same regret all over his face. I don’t know what he wants to take back, but for me, it’s that moment on the tracks when I had my Versi in hand and I didn’t fight, I ran.
It was seventeen against one in that tunnel. A losing bet when it’s nothing but Sweep sanctioned augments.
But those mutants weren’t sweep sanctioned. That’s why I could use the Versipath OverRide and the GhostMark to clear out the entire factory before I left.
I should’ve fired. If I hadn’t jumped us into all that hectic world-hoppin’, and just fuckin’ stood my ground and fought, we’d have won. The whole battle would’ve been over in seconds.
We’d have been on our way to find that good world.
We would still be whole right now, instead of broken.
Lover Boy registers Clara, his newly augmented eyes flaring up cyan-blue as he takes in the blood still drippin’ out her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.
“She’s fine,” I say quickly. Which is a lie. “She will be fine.”
He looks confused for a moment, which gives me time to log the changes. He’s shirtless, wearin’ nothin’ but a pair of black tactical pants. No shoes. Everythin’ about him has been augmented. Muscles chiseled from stone, eyes flashing blue, then yellow, then back to blue. Blond hair now white, sides shaved like a proper Sweep recruit. And under his skin I can see the lights. Not functional yet, but there.
“Who did this to you?” I ask.
He looks down at the dyin’ woman in his arms, then back up at me. “I didn’t know.”
That’s not what I asked, but I don’t ask again.
Because it’s a lie.
He did know.
Whatever happened to this girl, he’s the reason she’s dyin’. He took her spark, the same way I took Clara’s.
We’re both guilty as fuck.
So I’ve got nothin’ to say to him, but a lie in return.
“Join the fuckin’ club.” I nod at the floor and he slumps down, back against the bulkhead, whisperin’ something in his girl’s ear.
I look away.
Neither of us says anythin’ as the doors close and we pull out of the station.
In their absence, I find strength.
“One day, Tyse,” Myra says, pullin’ me back to my tragic past, “you’re gonna need these mods. And then you’ll thank me.”
In their wisdom, I survive.
Thank you, Myra.