CHAPTER THREE
"Eye for eye and the world will go blind." - Mohandas K. Gandhi
Once away from the others, Kieran resisted being led like a small child, but knew she had no choice.
How can you be angry with Carlos? she chided herself, as the travel time allowed her to reflect. He did nothing wrong! In fact, he is always more right than wrong. He only brings out the best in you.
"You were unselfish at this moment and that matters most. You saved lives. Don't bring yourself down," he would have told her if they had been alone.
She lamented the fact that she and Carlos were friends, nothing more. Initially disappointed when she had wanted to be more than friends with Carlos, her relationship with him was fine for now. Granted, she'd been a little jealous that Marta, rather than her, had had an opportunity to get to know him. Mother-General had seen to it that she had not been allowed any closer intimacy with Carlos.
"You need to be a soldier who takes orders and leads others," she had said. "If you do your job right, you won't have time for love." After all, you are the better soldier than Marta had been the subtext. Kieran had sensed the undercurrent of a concerned mother's manipulation, too. Deep down she knew she wasn't good enough for Carlos. Maybe Mother-General would have no objections if she were no longer a soldier. Nothing sexy about a woman dressed in Stealth garments. Now, maybe... He did care once. Once, she had liked being a soldier.
Since the laser ax 'accident,' the real question was, would she ever see well enough again to do her technical work on the cyberts? Although it wasn't really a matter of visual acuity; it was often by sheer instinct and intuition that she knew what to look for to analyze Makr's Cyber soldiers. She had always seemed to know what they would do next. But people? Analyzing that question would have to wait.
"Don't pull me so hard, Harlan!" She struggled and pulled her arm free. "I can walk. Talk to me," she ordered. "I'm not a child."
"So you aren't." There was always something unsettling about that voice. Sergeant Harlan Leach was a scumbag, but he was also a ruthless survivor. After all, he had so far effectively evaded the cybert forces after the accident even with the loss of some of her Stealth garments. He was still a loathsome human being. He expected all others to bow to his self-serving, cold-hearted authority. It was time and experience that had made him Carlos' chief sergeant, not strength of character. Hard times require hard people, and he was a good soldier when it counted.
Harlan hooked his arm gently around hers and guided her. Maybe he's not so bad after all? Or so she thought until she felt the fabric of her cloak moving away from her skin as if picked up by the wind... There is no wind! Then a touch of her breast! Then she felt his touch lower and lower! She recoiled, tearing away from his grasp.
"Damn you! Damn you, Harlan! Haven't you an ounce of decency?"
"What for? We live like rats. Might as well act like 'em."
"You know why."
"The Nests protects us," he sneered.
"We're all in this together."
Now she is beginning to sound like Carlos.
"So what!" He was in her face. She felt his stinky hot breath when he opened his mouth. "I don't need anyone. I can take care of myself..."
"I'm sure you can, Harlan."
"...and I take what I want." His tone was rough, edgy and menacing.
Sensing that he was reaching for her again, she swung her right arm back and forth wildly, hoping to keep him at bay, but she missed him palm forward, and struck him with her harder back-handed return—on the face, she guessed.
"Ow," he squealed. "What'd ya go and do that fer?"
"Some of us aren't ready to join the rats yet." She hoped she was reading him right but he backed down too easily.
"Sorry." He almost sounded genuine. Almost.
"What is it you really want, Leach?"
"Nuttin'. Just wanted a feel, tha's all." He sniffed. A cold? Bloody nose, more likely? The thought of that made her smile—which was not at all what he wanted from her.
She laughed hysterically as one can in Stealth gear —it was more like the body shaking really.
"Did you run out of cybersex toys? I'm surprised at you, Harlan. Taking advantage of a blind woman. You stupid bastard! Open my Stealth cloak for a peak and we're both more exposed. Is that what you want?"
Silence.
"No answer, Harlan? Is it because you know I'm right?" Still silence. Has he left her? "I know you're here, Leach. I can still smell you."
I can just leave ya here, Bitch, he thought, standing belligerently a few feet away. Let the Cleaners get ya! Not exactly the kind of action you'd like, I'm sure. You got Carlos in your dreams, Honey?
While her depraved companion kept his thoughts to himself, Kieran was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with his silence.
"What no words, Leach? C'mon deal with me. Not thinking about leaving me here, are you?"
Who's bluffing now? She was worried he might do just that—abandon her. She wouldn't survive for long without the others. Maybe that's best. Stop thinking like that, Kieran, she told herself.
"Getting you home safe—what's in it for me?" He reached for her again. She thought she smelled and felt his presence but she heard his cold voice and could tell it was safely distant. Maybe he was planning to leave me to the Cyber street cleaners after all.
"What's in it for you?" she responded incredulously, a whispered shout. "Your life, Asshole!" Then she spread it on thick. "If I don't show up, guess who gets blamed! Not me, Sugar. You better find yourself another Nest."
If I could just see your face, right now... Damn you!
"You know Carlos is just waiting for an excuse, don't you?" she taunted. "Or are you dumb enough after all to be unaware that Carlos merely tolerates your presence while he is disgusted with you?"
Leach was aware, and knew his own survival to be more important than sex. He muttered something unintelligible.
"All right, damn it!" He touched her arm, which made her jerk it away. "I said I'm sorry. Now, let's go."
Pausing for a second to assess the situation, she moved her arm back and allowed him to get hold of her sleeve. He led her by clutching and tugging on the fabric in such a way that he would not even pinch her skin.
"Yes, Sergeant," she saluted mockingly.
Leach dismissed her tone and escorted her at a safe distance, mindful not to touch any other body part but her arm. Damn bitch won this time, he thought. In fact, he practically forgot the incident with Kieran O'Shea even as he and she zigzagged silently through the Shadows back to the Nest. In his estimation, she was only a slut not worth giving a second thought.
However, what she had said about Carlos was true enough. They hated each other with a passion. Leach had hated Carlos for a long time. Through the fabric of his Stealth cloak, he ran a finger along the scar on his face where a Bio eye should be—a constant reminder of his hatred. He moved his fingers to the stainless steel socket that held a mechanical eye. There had been no cloned eye for him—too much damage to the bone structure, nerves and tendons. He had had to have an artificial, cybernetic one after the Bio docs Outside tried unsuccessfully to graft bone from his hip because the eye socket from his clone had not worked either. Too much damage to the facial structure and optical nerve they had said. His mechanical eye had its own pathway to his brain.
In the end, he went back Inside to a Cyber surgeon that, even with its perfect skills, could only make him part hated machine and part hideous human "to keep him operational." For Leach, saying the operation was a success but the patient had died, was not just cliché. He was worse than dead; he was nothing. The machines did not even seem to notice when he got up and left to walk back Outside. He was an irrelevant Bio worth a quick repair to keep him pacified. Not even worth deleting.
I could have been a real leader but who'd pay attention to me with these hideous, raw scars and exposed metal-marked face? I look too much like the enemy.
He knew there could be no other reason. Now, his
face, or what was left of it, hung gruesomely on his shattered jaw and cheek. What made him like his Cyber enemy were the stainless steel and hard plastic bone replacements that were needed to shore up the remaining muscle and skin tissue. Since there was no way to bring muscle strength and tone to a shredded muscle, the result was a face that couldn't smile, a face that betrays no feelings, no expression other than a permanent scowl.
For all the revolting things someone might say about Leach, he was an Outsider to the end; he would have none of the easy life Inside kowtowing to Makr. He had been willing to give it a try for a human face, but when he saw the horrible result he had vowed revenge on all Cyber. He hated them even more than he hated Carlos.
It was ironic that it had been Carlos who discovered the ancient and abandoned Bio cloning labs—a machine shop for humans—so he could help Kieran now with her part replacement, as well as other Outsiders who were wounded and had lost limbs. However, those cloning labs could only accomplish so much. None of the Outsiders knew how to transplant a face complete with bone and muscle structure, and that was the only thing that could have helped Leach. In Leach's twisted logic, Carlos' connection to the cloning labs gave him all the more reason to hate his superior.
All the walking to get Kieran back to the Nest had resurrected a burning sensation on his hip where the Bio surgeon had taken some of the bone to patch his jaw. His people kept telling him that his pain wasn't real, that he shouldn't be feeling pain, but they were wrong. Like Kieran, the pain in his head went deep. The intensity of this day's Cyber encounter and the laser ax accident had caused a flood of feelings and reflection of times past for both of them.
The skin covering Leach's metal eye socket was tender; exposed nerves, they'd said. The Cyber docs couldn't deaden the nerves without losing what little muscle control he had left in his face.
That bitch knew what she was doing when she gave him a stinging reminder. I'll get even some day!
With her! With Mama's boy, too!
Only reason you get to lead, Carlos, is that your mother is the Mother-General. The fact she is your mother is reason enough to hate you. But you did this to me. You made me hate. You should have trusted me, supported me, but you didn't.
I'm a soldier—a good soldier—probably better than you. I wouldn't spend all my time on the factory cyberts and their guards. I'd go to the heart of the matter—to Makr Himself—and blow His Ass to space! One look at you and I could tell you didn't trust me. You should have, Carlos. So I wasn't "pretty" like you. Our enemy did this to me. All because of you!
You said to wait. "Don't wave grenade the cyberts just yet," you said. "We can use the cyberts to our advantage."
How many more will you sacrifice for parts and information? You waited too long. You let them burn me with their lasers. While we waited for you to decide those same cyberts blew up a building with hundreds of residents. Hundreds, at least, Carlos. Bad enough that the blast nearly took my head off, but to kill hundreds?
"Collateral damage you said. Sorry 'bout that."
"Sorry 'bout that! Sorry 'bout that" when I called you on it! And you had the nerve to try to have me banished from the Nest for insubordination! But I had friends and Mother-General couldn't banish her youngster so she let you off with a warnin’ and demoted you for the "incident," Captain. For hundreds dead by collateral damage, you get to stay on as an officer.
Me? You tried to discard me like the garbage, but your mother wouldn't allow it. Is it guilt of having a living reminder of your pathetic leadership, or, are you just disgusted with the sight of some half-human, half-cybernetic creature like me back on your team?
"Bad for morale," you said, when Mother-General assigned me back to your squad. I can't believe you thought I was bad for morale after all the damage you personally had caused. "Not a nice thing to say, but it was the reality," you said.
Well, I know about reality, too. You've got me, you bastard, and I've got seniority. I've got support in the Nest. Not friends exactly, but favors owed. I was out here fightin' for the Cause while you were still sucking your mama's teat.
Like it or not, I'll follow you to your grave. I'll not "follow" you in the Shadows anymore, but I'll be there; I'll even hang on every word like you can do no wrong. You'll just think I'm on your side, that I'm your loyal subordinate. But the moment will come, and I'll see you to your darkest hour. That last thought makes him smile. Lost in his reverie, he almost forgot the servile task Carlos had handed him now.
Kieran, being pulled along almost gently now, was baffled as to how to take him. At times, Harlan Leach seemed so brave and determined, ready to destroy all cyberts. He was a proud warrior, a true patriot. But at times like now he was distant. What goes on in that head of yours? She asked herself and the answer echoed in her mind. You don't really want to know.
Carlos, why did you send me back with this creature?
.
Two days later, in another place, Carlos went back to work on the task at hand in a manner like the machines he dissected: methodical and cold. After that first ambush with its casualties, all the rest had made it safely to the rendezvous point. His Shadows wasted no time preparing to meet the Cyber threat in another way.
All plans, no matter how good, are useless after three or four applications anyway. Enter Blue Leader with four arms, deadly firepower, and a head that wouldn't come off. That meant a whole new model to deal with. As Makr learned from His mistakes, He adjusted the cyberts through improved software and hardware to counter Shadow defenses. How long would it take before the Shadows had no defense. One thing was certain: it would take more Shadow lives to figure it out.
Two teams in a row. Another "Blue Leader," this one with new programming. With wireless downloads and Cyber techs working tirelessly, it was merely a matter of a few hours before the task was completed. Voila! A new and improved model! And, in less time than humans needed to rest.
Carlos felt the Nest lucky that they had Greg Jackson who'd mastered the art of adapting cybert weaponry and turning it against the machines, and, Kieran, the tactical master. Where would we be without her ingenious plans, catching cyberts by surprise? In spite of our Bio advantages, how soon before Makr renders our Stealth garments and our shields useless? When that happened, adapting weapons and great plans notwithstanding, Makr would win. Bios are such a delicate race.
Carlos and his team, exposed for a split second, had emerged from the shadows with uncanny lightning speed, hurled grenades, raised shields, and fallen to the ground. The strategy had worked twice in a row since the first Blue Leader encounter. Carlos had found that confusion works better than diversion. For now.
With his mind not totally on the mission, it was the one time he needed to see his soldiers' eyes. If he could see those eyes hidden by Stealth gear, he would know his people understood. No one blamed him...not really. Not that it mattered what they thought; he blamed himself. The strategy was his alone; Kieran had told him it was time to change tactics and he had argued the cyberts would not expect the same tactic to be used a fourth time. He was wrong.
"Give me another ax."
He held the laser ax up as he stared at the cybert that lay at his feet. No good. The ax has to be faulty. Our lasers cut through anything, he told himself. Maybe not anymore. Jackson handed him another ax. He tried again with the same negative results. Time was running out.
Had Makr finally made a composite material Carlos can't burn through with the laser ax? Then there came the moment when doing the same thing over and over made absolutely no sense. What if I change what I'm doing? Where I'm doing it? He moved down the cybert body to the waist and applied the thin laser blade once more. This time it worked, slicing through the narrow torso, which was not much wider than the powerful, seemingly impervious neck.
As Carlos finished the job, the severed head and torso unexpectedly lurched forward with its eyes glaring bright red, then green, then dim. All four arms suddenly extended stiffly and dropped harmlessly, but not before
more than one soldier felt a warm wetness run down their legs. Carlos' heart skipped a beat.
He mopped his brow with the rough cowl that falls over his face and motioned for two of his strongest men to take the Blue Leader's upper torso.
"Let's get out of here! Move it! Now!"
A few miles from their current location, the building severed from its foundation two days ago by the laser ax misfire collapsed, taking three larger skyscrapers crashing down with it and killing 11,357 Bio Insider inhabitants. The cybert repair team never came.