“We do. Now we just need to figure out what it means.”
Manuel vanished and reappeared in the blink of an eye. The book powered up and spread its ends out like a bird. Healthy and energetic.
“Ah, I’m online,” Manuel beamed and tilted the top of his pages at Tor, “Good whenever-it-is, Tor. How are you?”
“I’m okay, Manuel.”
Manuel slipped a few meters to Tor’s right and nosed in around his neck, “Why are you wearing a compliance unit?”
“It’s a mistake, Manuel. Jaycee Nayall attached them to me and Baldron Landaker in error.”
“We believe Jaycee has short-circuited,” Baldron added as he approached Tor and Manuel, “We are unhappy that a series three Androgyne getting with insubordination like this.”
“I agree.”
Tor raised his eyebrows with surprise, “You do?”
“Absolutely,” Manuel flipped to page 453, 770. “See, here? Infinity Clause seven, para one. No Androgyne unit may act against its humans. He is in direct contravention of this clause.”
“Good,” Tor breathed a sigh of relief along with Baldron, “Can you remove my Decapidisc please?”
“Certainly. Give me a moment,” Manuel froze solid in the air.
Baldron and Tor smiled and high-fived each other.
Tripp peered round the corner wall and stared at the control deck door. He held his Rez-9 in flat in his palm, clocking the white indicator on the side – a full magazine.
“Please, God. Let us survive this one.”
He squeezed the grip in his right hand, keeping the gun pointed at the ground.
A series of heavy footsteps clomped away behind his shoulders. He knew who they belonged to.
“You ready, man?”
Time seemed to grind into slow motion as Tripp laid eyes on Jaycee.
The man bounded forward with great purpose. Armed with two, heavy K-SPARKS, claymores and an exo-suit that could probably withstand an atomic blast.
“Jaycee.”
“Catch,” He tossed one of the K-SPARKs over to Tripp, who caught it in both hands and slipped the harness over his shoulder.
“Got it.”
Jaycee flipped his visor down, ready for war, “Let’s give ‘em hell.”
Tripp held him back, “Jaycee, listen. Don’t kill them. At worst, a little light maiming. We need them.”
“But we can’t trust those scumbags.”
“I know, but we need them.”
“Need them? Need them to kill us the second our backs are turned?”
“What happened down at Engine and Payload?”
Jaycee held up his ruined wrist. A bent metal carpal extension protruded through the broken wires and connectors.
“What the—”
“Does this answer your question?”
“Yes.”
“—They need killing. So, let’s do it,” Jaycee put a foot forward, only to be held back by Tripp.
“Jaycee?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re an Androgyne?”
Jaycee spun his head to the right, no longer able to face reality. “I… I… just…”
“I had no idea.”
Jaycee sniffed and held his elbow to his face, “I know you didn’t. How could you? Bonnie didn’t even know when she found out.”
Tripp allowed Jaycee a few seconds to himself.
“If it’s any consolation, you’re as good as human to me. You know that, right?”
A pink tear trickled down Jaycee’s cheek, “I never thought it could happen to me, man.”
“Why anyone, buddy?
“My entire life has been a lie,” Jaycee wept quietly, “My wife must know. My kids—”
“—Jaycee, I know it’s hard to take, but—”
“—Every single time I go to sleep, I forget. I wake up the next day thinking I’m normal,” Jaycee’s lips quivered. “I remember everything. Everything, except for the fact I’m not normal.”
Tripp didn’t have the words nor the credentials to try and talk Jaycee down from his mire, “Hey.”
“Yeah,” he wiped the liquid from his face and half-laughed in pain, “Genuine tears, look. They’ve even got the salt levels right.”
“I’m not going to try and tell you everything is okay. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”
“You have no idea what I’m going through. I just want to die. I never want to feel like this again.”
“You’re a man, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Jaycee sniffed.
“You have memories? A loving family, right?”
“Yes… I do.”
“Then as far as everyone’s concerned, you’re a human being. What’s the difference?” Tripp placed his finger under the barrel of Jaycee’s gun and lifted up to the control deck door, “All that anger deep in your gut? Put it to good use. Focus it at those bastards in there.”
Jaycee sniggered through his tears. The feeling of heartache and self-pity manifested itself into a whirlwind of pure rage.
Tripp could see the realization take place in Jaycee’s eyes, “That’s right, man. You fire up and take it out on the bad guys.”
“I will.”
Tripp gave him a harsh but friendly thump on the shoulder, “That’s the spirit.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Oww,” Tripp waved his hand in pain, quietly, “Damn, your suit is vicious.”
“Yeah, don’t hit me again,” Jaycee cleared his throat and acted manly once again, “Don’t tell anyone I cried, okay?”
“Of course not.”
“Because if you do I’ll remove your skull, sand it down and give it to your wife as a souvenir cereal bowl.”
“That won’t work. She hates cereal.”
Tripp and Jaycee shared a moment chuckling. Certain death was on the horizon. Both men knew it, and elected to laugh right in its face.
“Okay, listen carefully. We’re not going in all guns blazing.”
“No?”
“Nope,” Tripp shook his head and scanned the door to the control deck, “I’m going in first…”
“Override compliance unit,” Manuel’s voice came out of Tor’s mouth, “Decapidisc. Unit Two.”
The lights on the disc shut off one by one. Tor stood mannequin-still as Manuel controlled his body.
“Oh, this is curious. This is what it feels like to be human?” Tor felt the neck hole unbolt. Both halves of the disc swung out, resembling a huge three shape hanging from around the back of his neck.
A sharp, purple light bolted out from Tor’s eyes, puking Manuel’s holographic book image into the air.
“Done! Whoa, what a rush,” Manuel fluttered around in an attempt to acclimatize himself to his surroundings.
Tor’s blinked back to life and shook the dizziness away, “Wow, is it over?”
“Yes,” Manuel shifted around in the air, applauding the experience with two of his pages.
“Thank, God,” He caught his inactive Decapidisc in his hands and placed it on the communications panel, “Thanks, Manuel.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for letting me inside you, Viktor.”
“What?”
“Your name. Viktor Rabinovich. I took the liberty to run a backup on your entire life in case you ever developed Alzheimer’s.”
“I didn’t give you permission to do that!” Tor fumed. “Erase it. Right now, please.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“—Dah, dah, I don’t wanna hear it. Erase all that data you stole from my head, please. At once.”
“Certainly,” Manuel paused for nanosecond. “Erase complete.”
“Thank you. You’re out of your mind.”