She’s doesn’t feel discomfort of any kind if she doesn’t want to. That means she’s either a bot or a cyborg, not a human.
And that puts me on edge.
Some of the deadliest people I’ve ever met fall into those two categories, but she does have a hovercart full of luggage, all of it expensive designer brands that I recognize from Earth. Same with her clothes. That could be a trick, part of a disguise, but she doesn’t seem to be wearing any weapons. No place to put them. Of course, she’s probably a living weapon, so who needs guns or plasma blades?
But no, I don’t think that’s it. She turned her back on me, and she’s not wearing a holoband or any other tech to keep eyes on me with her head turned away. If she were a trained assassin, she’d recognize that I’m one, too, and she wouldn’t let me out of her sight. That means this is just a wealthy Coalition tourist on her way home.
Pinning a picture-in-picture to Aurora’s position, just in case I’m wrong, I look away from her and roll my shoulders casually, using the guise of boredom to look around as the tram fills up.
A giant man comes in with a hovercart of luggage that towers almost as high as he does. Short, brown hair like my real hair. Green eyes, not glowing. Holoband across his forehead. But no name appears above his head. He’s hiding his identity. Why? He stops in the middle of the tram. Stands preternaturally still. That pricks my curiosity, but he doesn’t even glance at me or Omar. Not a threat, I decide.
Then a few more sets of glowing eyes like Aurora’s appear at the other end of the tram car. Red eyes and yellow; a Rat and a Snake. Both are mean-looking types, also not broadcasting names. These two give me the vibe that I’ve been looking for.
They’re definitely cyborgs, not bots—one has a ragged scar on his face that he’s kept for show, but there is metal shining through underneath, and the other has a cheap metal plate where part of his skull used to be. No skin, synthetic or otherwise to cover it up.
Scriggs. The best killers are the ones you never see coming, but these two stand out like warts on a crobbin’s ass.
The tram jolts into motion, picking up speed as it whooshes out of the garage and whistles along maglev tracks, cutting through the icy air between us and the main concourse. It only takes a moment for the cyborgs to spot me through the crowd. Being six-foot two is a definite disadvantage for stealth.
The tram is already slowing down, when they start elbowing through the sea of passengers to reach me. I don’t think they’ve spotted Omar yet. He only comes up to my chest.
I grab his arm just before the tram stops, and send him a text-only message via my neuralink. Can’t risk idle ears overhearing what I’m about to say.
Buy three tickets to Earth on the cheapest ship you can find. Then meet me at the gate for the most expensive one. I’ll meet you there with the tickets.
Omar nods quickly. The doors spring open. Rat and Snake have almost reached me.
Go!
Chapter 6
I linger inside the tram car for precious seconds, waiting to put at least six people between me and Omar’s family. One of those six is that other cyborg with the red hair. Aurora. I pretend to be distracted by her, staring after her like a lost puppy. What I’m actually doing is using one of the cameras in the edge of my holoband to keep an eye on the two cyborgs approaching from my left. Red-eyed Rat and Yellow-eyed Snake.
I disabled tracking on Mohinari’s car, so how did they find us so fast? Someone must have picked up our faces on security cameras in the garage, but that wouldn’t have left enough time for these goons to get here, which means they were already here. Waiting for us to arrive. Rajesh predicted we would try to escape. He practically owns the whole planet, so escaping is a predictable plan.
Rat and Snake are getting dangerously close. They’re not planning to kill me by any obvious means, or else they would have drawn their sidearms by now. No, they’ll bump into me on their way out. A lethal injection of Glo will give these two assassins and Mohinari plausible deniability. I’ll just be another tourist who didn’t make it home from a stim-vacation.
But to take me out like that, they have to get within spitting distance, and I’m not going to let that happen. I could draw my weapon and start a shootout. I’d get the first one before the second could get his weapon out of the holster. The second one would go down while he’s hunting for a clear shot.
Fast but messy. I’ll have spaceport security after me. And besides, there are too many innocent bystanders in the way who could get shot.
Scanning the remaining people between me and the cyborgs, I catch a glimpse of someone who could provide the necessary buffer. The giant of a man I spotted earlier. He’s shuffling out with a hovercart piled precariously high with heavy luggage. The cart slides between me and the two cyborgs. Rat and Snake have to stop and wait impatiently for the cart to pass. I pretend not to notice them, then bumble straight into the cart as I let an elderly woman by on my right. Falling into the stack of luggage with my shoulder, the cart tips and the stack of luggage falls over with a crash, landing all around the two cyborgs.
The giant whose luggage it is whirls around, looking for a target. His green eyes pinch into a scowl as he sees Rat and Snake grabbing his bags. They were probably going to put them back on the cart, but that’s not what it looks like. And they don’t have any bags of their own, so they definitely look the part of opportunistic thieves.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the giant booms.
“It fell...” Rat stammers, holding out the bag in his hands.
“Get your hands off my stuff, scrigg!”
I’m already ten feet from the scene of the crime, passing through the doors of the tram, but watching the confrontation, picture-in-picture on one of my two rear-view holocams that are built into the tips of the band that sit above my ears.
The giant is easily six-foot-seven. Green eyes, not glowing, and with arms as thick as trees and fists that could punch straight through a hovertank. He looks human, but he’s actually a fully-fledged bot, and that’s one better than these half-assed cyborgs.
“Just take it, we don’t want any trouble,” Rat says.
“Graaah!” Giant roars as he swings a fist. Rat ducks. The fist hits Snake in the metal side of his head with a resounding clang.
Snake cries out as the metal edges of the plate press hard into actual flesh and bone. He goes down with the momentum of the blow.
Rat draws his gun.
And the stragglers in the tram start to scream as they flee. They start running by me. I paste a frightened look on my face as I run away with them.
A laser pistol firing makes a sharp, cracking report. The giant bot gives another roar, and I hear an agonized human scream as poor little Rat gets bent backward over Giant’s knee.
Can’t see it, but I can imagine it. A smile curves my lips as I run down a rolling ramp with the rest of the fleeing passengers.
That giant was probably human before he went through the gradual transition to become a machine so he could live forever. How do I know? Because an AI wouldn’t be traveling alone, with luggage. And unless he’s a sexbot, he wouldn’t be trying so hard to look human. His eyes weren’t even glowing. He was wearing a holoband instead. And he had the requisite number of defects on his skin, not like Aurora who clearly embraced synthetic perfection. The only thing that gave Giant away was the way he never fidgeted. I saw him standing in the tram earlier. The meatbags were all shifting their weight from foot to foot. Stuffing hands into pockets. Fiddling with their bags.