CYBORGHEART Read online

  Sirgi stressed the title to emphasize the formality between them. Was he playing games again, manipulating him? Brent had no idea, but anything seemed possible considering what Inya had found out.

  Planting his feet and crossing his arms in a pose he hoped conveyed some measure of authority, Brent took a deep breath and plunged in. “Does the name Moz Hothox mean anything to you?”

  “No,” Sirgi said. His eyes, though, shifted a bit to the left. Brent felt his heart squeeze and then sink. Why would Sirgi lie if he had nothing to hide? “Should it?”

  “I don’t know. I thought it might. It was the name of a pirate who terrorized this sector about a hundred and sixty years ago.”

  “Ah. We’re back to that whole police thing, are we? Look, I was kidding around when I gave you my little speech on brigand psychology. I don’t know anything about pirates, really.” His eyelids slitted. He was hiding something, Brent knew. “I don’t have clear memories.”

  “Well, luckily I can fill you in. It turns out Sirgi Meliq and this Moz fellow were both members of what the old Earth Alliance called the Centurion Force. I don’t suppose that touches any nerves for you, either?”

  Sirgi shook his head. His lips remained pressed into a thin, dark line.

  “The Centurions were what we might call cybersoldiers today. They all had one thing in common—parts of their bodies had been replaced with mechanical parts after they’d suffered hideous injuries while on duty, often at the hands of pirates. The pods, like the one we pulled you out of, were designed especially for the Centurion force.”

  “And you think I was one of them.” Sirgi seemed to relax a bit. “All right, that makes sense. According to your Dr. Inya, I’ve got a few spare parts myself.” He rubbed at his thighs as if trying to verify the presence of implants with his palms.

  “You were one of them, yes.” Brent wondered if Sirgi had picked up on the double meaning in his words. “Anyhow, the two started out as friends and loyal colleagues. They were both devoted to duty above everything. Yet over the years something happened to Moz. Maybe the implants affected his brain chemistry. Maybe he just got tired of being one of the good guys. For whatever reason, he went bad—really bad. He became one of the most notorious criminals in the sector. Theft, murder—nothing was beyond him. The man was utterly without a conscience. And Sirgi vowed to capture him.”

  “You mean I vowed to capture him.”

  “Maybe. You might have been the one who chased him down. Then again, Inya thinks it’s equally possible that you might be him.”

  Sirgi stood up, towering over Brent. Brent’s hand dropped to his side and lingered over the communications device on his belt. One press would summon an intervention from security. He hoped it didn’t come to that. For now, Sirgi made no effort to approach him.

  “What does that mean?” Sirgi asked in a rough, terrible voice.

  Brent swallowed. “It means we think you might not be a cop after all. You might have been the wanted man.”

  “Me? How can you say that?”

  “Old records. There was an officer Sirgi, all right. He was a brave man who went down with his ship…while his prisoner escaped. We think you might be that prisoner, Sirgi…well, whoever you really are. Believe me, I hope it’s not true. But records don’t lie.”

  “No.” Sirgi shielded his eyes with one hand. For a moment, he looked as though he’d been struck in the face. But Brent knew that few things were more dangerous than a cornered fugitive. “They don’t.”

  “Remember, nothing’s been verified yet. I’m not sure how we actually could verify it. It all happened so long ago.”

  Sirgi glanced up. “Does that mean the charges no longer exist?”

  Brent shook his head. “Admittedly, this is an unusual situation, but the passage of time alone doesn’t offer any protection. There are no statutes of limitation on murder committed in the commission of piracy, especially since some species are known to live as long as you’ve been…ah, asleep. You’re entitled to legal counsel, of course. We’ll get that for you. You have my word.”

  “You mean you might have rescued me just to send me to prison?” A storm seemed to pass over Sirgi’s face. Abruptly he smashed his fist down on the bedside table. Brent saw a huge, cavernous dent appear.

  “I never said that. And don’t act like I’m some kind of law enforcement agent. I’m not. I’m a cargomaster. It’s not my job to enforce any particular regulation. But I do have to obey them or have my license and my father’s charter confiscated. I can’t risk it, Sirgi.” Brent’s voice trembled. “I won’t.”

  Sirgi walked over to him and reached out. Brent almost flinched, but then Sirgi took his hand. Brent smelled a delicious aroma of the fragrant bath oils Sirgi had used. “You’re a good man, Brent. I know you don’t want to do this. There may be another way—I’m sure you have already considered that.”

  “What do you mean?” Brent didn’t care to admit, even to himself, that the same idea had crossed his mind…many times, in fact, as he had walked from Inya’s office to Sirgi’s quarters.

  “You know very well what I mean. After all, no one but you and your crew know I’m here. Perhaps we could buy their silence. Perhaps we could convince them that I have escaped. Have you figured out a place to hide me? I suspect you’ve tried to think of one, at the very least.”

  “Well…I…” Brent stammered. His cheeks flamed. He couldn’t complete the sentence aloud. He could hardly bear to complete it in his head.

  Sirgi broke the sudden tension by shaking his head again and stepping back. “I can’t let you do that. If prison is my future, then that’s what it is. I won’t ruin yours along with mine. You can keep me in irons if you want.” He offered his wrists.

  “Do I have to?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’m pretty desperate to live my life again. After all these years, I thought I’d have more to look forward to.”

  “You haven’t been convicted of anything yet. I need you to remember that.”

  “All right. I’ll try.”

  Brent tried another tack, inwardly wincing at how ridiculous his efforts at comfort sounded, even to him. “Prisons aren’t what they were in your day, either. They’re more like rehab centers now. We’ve learned to retrain people to be productive and peaceful again. Scientists have made some amazing strides when it comes to brain chemistry and violent impulses and so on.”

  “Come on, Brent.” Sirgi barked out an angry half-laugh. “If I was as bad as you say…I’ll never get out.”

  “That could be true. Then again, it might not be. I just don’t know.”

  Growling, Sirgi paced the room a bit, his long and abrupt strides betraying the turmoil inside him. Finally he stopped, and stood clenching and unclenching his impressive fists. His snarling faded to a single, drawn-out sigh.

  “All right. As far as I’m concerned, your part in this is over, Brent. You’ve done what you needed to, and I accept that. I have no hard feelings. I can face whatever the future holds, whoever I really am. I do have one regret about this whole thing, though.”

  “What’s that?” Brent asked quietly, suspecting what the answer might be but not sure he wanted to know.

  “Losing you.” Turning and grabbing Brent’s arm in one of those vise-like hands, Sirgi hauled him forward and crushed his mouth against Brent’s. Brent responded at first, closing his eyes and allowing himself to pretend for a moment that he’d never gone to Inya’s office, but had come directly here with Sirgi after their workout. Then he might have shared the hot, scented shower Sirgi had obviously stepped into as soon as they’d parted.

  Much as it hurt, he forced himself to stop thinking that way and tugged free of Sirgi. He had gone to Inya’s office, and there was no way to undo that now.

  “I need to go,” he said softly.

  Sirgi dropped his arm. Again Brent wondered if he’d left a bruise. He’d been holding onto him that tightly, just the way he had when th
ey’d first rescued him. Was Sirgi even more frightened now? “I understand.”

  “The guard will be there, but we can keep things the same as before. Please don’t force me to take more drastic precautions.”

  “I’d offer you my word as a gentleman, but I guess that wouldn’t mean much under the present circumstances.”

  “Actually, it does. Thank you, Sirgi.”

  Brent let go of Sirgi’s hand and left the room. As the hatch slid shut behind him, he heard that huge fist smashing against the table again.

  ****

  In search of something to occupy his time, Brent changed clothes and returned to the command center. There he tinkered with the sensors and watched the shimmering stars fly past on the navigation screen. Usually the view calmed him, but today it only exacerbated his foul mood.

  “This is the tricky part of the run,” Hari said, failing to pick up on his desire to be left alone. “I’ve heard there are lots of renegade ships around this sector. They know we’re making cargo runs.”

  “Just keep steady.” Brent bit out the words. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Hari replied in a somewhat nervous voice. “I mean, I hate to be the bearer of bad news…but I’m picking up signs of an unidentified vessel on our port side.”

  “Probably just another ship traveling in our direction,” Brent grumbled. Truthfully, he was only half paying attention. He saw no need to worry. Cargo ships and even pleasure yachts were common sights all over the galaxy these days, given how rapidly Earth colonies spread in this sector.

  “I don’t know about that, Captain,” Daras said, echoing Hari’s anxious tone. “My readings show a small, fast ship—not the kind we usually pass out here.”

  “It’s veered off its previous course and now it seems to be following us,” Hari said.

  “Could it be customs?” Occasionally, they’d been stopped for an inspection by Earth-sanctioned patrols, some of which disguised themselves to avoid tipping off smugglers. The cargo they were carrying was sensitive, but there was nothing illegal about it. Brent saw no reason to buck contact with authorities.

  “Not that I can tell. Customs would have hailed us by now and informed us they were coming aboard.”

  “Probably a coincidence, then.” Brent felt hot sweat prickle along his collar. Still, he refused to let himself panic. What good would that do? Most likely this would turn out to be nothing, and at least this little diversion got his mind off Sirgi. “Continue on our current course.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hari agreed, sounding far from happy with the order.

  A few moments later, Zillah hailed him.

  “Captain! Emergency down here! I’ve got a security breach on board.”

  “Where?” Brent asked, even though he already knew what she was going to say.

  “Sirgi’s quarters. His door is off the hinges. He—he just tore it right out of the frame! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  Brent cursed and raked his fingers through his hair. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? He knew their ship wasn’t designed to hold prisoners—especially not enormous men with mechanical muscle implants. What had made him think Sirgi would really sit in his assigned quarters like a child who’d been sent to his room? Sirgi had even warned Brent that his word was not sufficient to hold him. Like a fool, Brent had heard only what he’d chosen to hear.

  It occurred to him that Zillah’s voice sounded ragged, as though she’d been breathing heavily. A fresh worry swept through him. From what he’d read, Moz Hothox would not have stopped at brutalizing a woman to get his own way. “Are you injured, Zillah?”

  “Not really,” Zillah replied, her words trailing off in a moan. “I’m sorry, Captain…he took me by surprise and knocked me down before I could take control of him. And there’s one other thing…he has my weapon.”

  Brent barked out a colorful string of curse words. Zillah hadn’t been prepared for Sirgi’s immense strength and brutal determination, but it was hardly her fault. Brent hadn’t warned her because he hadn’t wanted to believe it himself.

  “Damn it! I’ll be right down there!” he shouted, heading for the command center hatch. “Hari, activate a Code 1 Security Alert. Double-lock the cargo doors!”

  “Yes, Captain.” Hari nodded and turned to his control panel. Brent was about to step into the passageway when he looked up and stopped in mid-step.

  Sirgi filled the hatchway, his big arms extended at his sides. The synthetic muscles under his skin rippled as if they were ready to do some serious damage to anyone who got in his way.

  Chapter 5

  The first thing Brent noticed was the Zillah’s gun in Sirgi’s right hand, pointed at the deck. The second thing was the thin stream of blood trickling down Sirgi’s left arm. So Zillah had gotten off one wounding shot before he’d disarmed her, after all. Fortunately, he hadn’t killed her in retaliation or simply by instinct. Then again, it occurred to Brent that being shot in the areas where the flesh was synthetic probably didn’t even hurt Sirgi. If he’d been pumped up enough, he might not even have realized he’d been hit.

  Sirgi’s cool blue eyes swept the command center, resting on each of its three occupants in turn.

  “Don’t look so panicky. I’m not here to hurt anyone. I just didn’t feel like being locked in that small room any longer. I chose the more expeditious way I could think of to get out.”

  “Sirgi—or whatever we should call you now—what you’re doing isn’t going to work.” Trying to appear a lot bolder than he felt, Brent stepped forward and put out his hand. “Give yourself up. It will look better for you in the long run.”

  “No. I can’t do that.” Retreating a step, Sirgi brought up Zillah’s weapon. Brent was close enough to see that he wasn’t touching the trigger. “Don’t fight me, Brent—it’s better this way.”

  “Better in what way? You’re going to send yourself to prison, though things might have been different otherwise.” Even as he said the words, Brent realized what Sirgi’s real plan must be. He was staging an escape, giving them an out so Brent and his crew couldn’t be blamed for letting him flee.

  Sirgi ignored his warning. “I want you to take me back to my pod. I think I can manage program the homing device built into it. That should enable me to use it as a small ship of my own.” With his free hand, he patted the bumpy electrodes that still raised the front of his tight pullover shirt. “If I can survive on life support for almost two hundred years, another few days isn’t going to make much of a difference.”

  “We know about the homing device. It’s risky, though. There’s no guarantee the pod’s in good enough condition to take you where you want to go—or that you’ll be able to get out safely once you arrive.”

  “I’ll accept that chance. I figure your navigator can help me find me the coordinates for some promising Earth colonies where the people won’t ask too many questions, and I’ll enter them into the pod’s navigation system.” Sirgi pointed his weapon a bit half-heartedly at Hari, who blanched.

  “Can you do it?” Brent asked him. Swallowing, Hari nodded and got busy. Daras looked on from his own chair, clearly not sure if he should intervene or not. Brent hoped he would stay right where he was. The last thing he needed was some misguided show of heroics that would send Sirgi into a panic.

  “I’m sorry things ended up like this, Brent. I wanted a different outcome as much as you did. There’s just no way I can spend the rest of my days in a cell after getting a second chance at life. And I can’t take you down with me. You understand, don’t you?”

  Brent didn’t miss the double meaning in the last few words. “I understand, but I think you’re making a mistake. I could have helped you, Sirgi—I still can, if you’d only let me.”

  Sadly Sirgi shook his head. “I can’t risk losing this chance,” he said.

  Noting his slight hesitation, Brent decided to try again. He glanced at Hari, hard at work with a star map of the quad
rant, and at Daras, staring wide-eyed at the weapon Sirgi held. He had just opened his mouth to begin a second attempt at negotiation when a crackly-sounding message sputtered over the intercom.

  “Lady Bountiful, this is the captain of the Raptor. You are hereby notified that you are our prisoners and your cargo is forfeit. Do not attempt to escape or we will destroy your ship and all who dwell within it. Stand down and prepare to be boarded. No one will be hurt if you follow our instructions.”

  “What the—?” Brent asked, bewildered. What little blood remained in Hari’s face drained out of it as he looked up from his workstation. His mouth hung open in abject terror.

  “Pirates,” he whispered. His hand shook as he pointed as the screen. The ship that had been following them had now pulled up next to their port side, and a massive metal arm stood ready to be extended toward them. Brent had seen such a device before. The pirates could use it to tear open cargo bay doors from the outside. In some cases, they pulled away leaving gaping holes in the victim ship’s hull that could not be repaired in time, and the entire ship would implode as the pirates fled with their booty. Most of his fellow cargo runners preferred to hand over the goods peacefully rather than risk their lives—a sentiment he heartily concurred with.

  Sirgi was gazing at the viewscreen, too.

  “Well, well.” A smug grin crept over his face. Brent hated himself for even subconsciously registering how sexy he looked at that moment. But he felt his pulse quicken with more than just the expected fear of being robbed. “I guess you can forget about finding those coordinates for the pod. Apparently I have a much more efficient ticket off this ship.” He motioned Daras out of his seat using the barrel of Zillah’s gun and then took control of the communications panel himself. He studied it for a moment, nodding with satisfaction. “Nothing’s changed since my day when it comes to stuff like this, at least.”

  “What are you doing?” Brent asked him, fighting the sinking sensation in his gut. Never had he felt more helpless or useless. He couldn’t protect either his cargo or his crew. Maybe if he hadn’t been so distracted by Sirgi, he could have prevented this disaster. Now he’d be lucky if any of them, with the possible exception of Sirgi himself, lived to see their next docking station.