Even in Debt — Dreams

Final Installment

The hatch had opened, and a silver‍-​haired boy was carefully climbing down the ladder, a long black jacket swishing around him. His face was turned, hiding his expression and intention.

J froze, and deleted every queued word of insult from her vocalsynth. Enough restraint that this forced a grimace‍ ‍—‍ but she’d learned how much those violet eyes hardened when she objectively evaluated the liability.

Thinking of Uzi hollowed her eyelights. Had she been overheard? J’s plan wouldn’t survive a leak. But a quick review of the past conversation, and J swallowed her worries. She hadn’t broken Uzi’s trust said anything incriminating. Even with V goading her, J’d stood firm.

Tense limbs slackened with relief, and yet the threat that had primed her neural network wasn’t the vague ideation of her plan failing, but predicted shock and betrayal vivid on the worker’s face. A reasonable visual anchor, and it did forewarn failure; so J’s network had simply taken a shortcut here.

Despite herself, J had already worked through the words she might say to assuage the revelation. Denial and retreat to technicalities wouldn’t work; Uzi could read between the lines. The ex‍-​captain’s conversation with V proved nothing, but it evidenced J hiding something.

A possibly winning strategy: partial disclosure. Own up to malicious intent at the start, but claim her act was now for V’s sake. V already thought her former captain a liar, this wouldn’t tarnish her opinion further.

J preemptively ran the numbers, and they could almost add up. Freedom for her and eventually V, repairs to the pod, tolerable company, at the cost of sparing one worker? J could tell Uzi she’d decided it was a convincing calculus.

It would be effortless.

Metal feet on metal flooring brought J back to the present moment, and she let out a core‍-​warmed jet of exhaust. She trained her optics on the current obstacle between her and her plans with Uzi. Silver hair, black jacket, gold eyelights.

Off the ladder, N turned around to give her a small smile and a sharp salute. “Hi, captain! Oop, Uzi said I’m not supposed to call you that anymore. Hi, J. How’s the, err, imprisonment been treating you?”

J looked the last member of her squad up and down. Jacket hanging open, he’d replaced his company‍-​issued undershirt with a graphic tee depicting a character named ‘Bladewolf’. Above the hazard stripes of his arms, pink and purple stickers adorned the length. But the biggest difference? He looked at her, and she looked back, and he didn’t flinch. The former captain frowned.

“Unproductive,” she replied. “How’s hunting gone?”

“Uh, we’ve mostly been scavenging,” said N.

“Oh.” V tossed a spare limb, drained dry, flopping like a noodle. “I thought the oil was tasting stale. Figured you guys were just giving us the worst of the leftovers. But you’ve been eating it too? Oof.”

“Degraded oil means degraded performance, and the relative cost of scavenging when prey are still plentiful renders it a poor investment of resources,” J said. “I ran the numbers on this years ago. Did you throw out my spreadsheets?”

“Yeah, well, it beats murdering people for oil?” A stutter of a laugh. “That’s kinda the main thing we’re worried about.”

J sighed, and didn’t argue further. This wasn’t the first she’d seen of N since the night she tried to kill him‍ ‍—‍ he’d ducked his head into the pod or followed after Uzi often enough, sure – but this was the longest they’ve spoken.

“It’s good talking to you, though! Uzi said you had something to say to me?”

“Not to my knowledge. Where is that little toaster anyway?”

“Up here.”

From the highest rung of the ladder, halfway out the open hatch, Uzi had watched the squad interact. But this was her cue to drop in. N, though, still stood at the foot of the ladder.

So when Uzi fell on top of him, N caught her without missing a beat, setting her down easy. They shared a smile, a laugh, and those purple eyes rolled.

J asked, “What’s this about, Uzi? I thought you were freeing me?”

“I did say that.” She pulled one hand out of her jacket, and a key caught the light. She spun it on the tip of a finger while she spoke. “I have a condition, though.”

“Which is?”

Uzi stared flatly at her. She glanced between J and N. “Not figuring it out on your own is a mark against you, y’know.”

“I don’t do riddles. Just tell me what to do.”

Those violent eyes stared. “There’s really nothing you want to say to N?”

“Get… back to work?” J suggested.

Uzi facepalmed. V cackled. N scratched the back of his neck.

J didn’t get it.

“Apologize, J. You tried to kill him? And treated him like garbage for years? You don’t feel bad about that?”

“I…” J cast her eyes around the room. Uzi watched her, N smiled and gave her a thumbs up, and V had put a hand over her mouth, suppressing more laughter. No objections, no joke‍-​revealing wink and nudge, no one in her corner.

J’s head fell into her hands. Did she really have to do this?

It wasn’t enough for Uzi to step on her, chain her up, make her twist every one of her principles to be free. How much humilation must she endure?

In front of her whole squad, no less?

N’s voice ventured, “Uzi, I think maybe she’s—”

“C’mon, this is character development,” Uzi interrupted.

“Okay.” J lifted her head, eye‍-​rings doubly underlined. She took a deep breath, and started. “I may have—”

“Why are you looking at me?” Uzi asked, thumb pointing beside her. “He’s the one you’re apologizing to.”

J groaned. Okay. Slowly she wrenched her eyes to the gold‍-​eyed boy. She said, “Three weeks ago, a mistake was made. You tried to inform your captain of a valuable opportunity, and you were not listened to. Without fully understanding the ramifications of the actions involved, an attempt was made to terminate you. If I could reevaluate that choice in light of the information I have now, alternatives would be pursued. It is abundantly clear that previous estimation of your capabilities was in error, and going forward I have no intent to condone the inappropriate treatment you were subjected to.”

“Nice,” Uzi said, and J smiled. “That was what, a whole paragraph and half without actually admitting anything? I’m impressed at how meaningless that was! Try again, and this time actually apologize.”

J cringed. Deep breath. She tried, “Okay. N. I sincerely do regret if my actions may have coincided with—”

“Three frickin syllables J, it’s not hard.”

J glanced over. And then, as if time slowed, she saw every frame of Uzi’s expression shifting. Those violet eyes. Seeing J as she truly was, at her lowest, recognizing her, judging her. The annoyance had drained from her gaze, and in its place, a new emotion:‍ ‍—‍ J had been measured, and found wanting; she was a‍ ‍—‍ disappointment.

Uzi was loooking down on her.

J broke.

“N… I‍-​I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t been a good captain to you, have I? This mess‍ ‍—‍ it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t have tried to hurt you. I… I just. I wanted to be a good drone. To follow the rules. For all of us to follow the rules and be the best. But it just made everything worse.”

What… what was happening to her visor animation? She couldn’t see clearly.

J tried to keep talking, but all that came out after that were… strange breaths.

“Hey. It’s ok. It’s ok now,” N said. She saw feet stepping across the ground, then hands on her shoulder. “We can make things better if we work together, right? I’m glad you and Uzi are getting along. She’s pretty unstoppable, heh. It’s kinda exciting.”

J didn’t see her move, she just felt arms from nowhere close around her shoulder. The embrace was gentle, but too sudden; J went instinct‍-​stiff. Claws ready to transform.

But that addictively grating vocalsynth was whispering to her, “Good job, J.”

“Oh no. No,” V said. “Please just free her and get out of here before you two start making out again. I don’t need to barf up my only meal.”

“We do not ‘make out’.” Two voices had spoken in unison, and J and Uzi glanced at each other.

Lemon‍-​yellow eyes rolled, V picking her teeth.

N piped up, “If you’re feeling left out, V, you can join in the group hug too!”

“Nope, my chain doesn’t stretch that far.”

“Hm.” He glanced to Uzi. “Free J first, then group hug?”

“Oh right, lemme get the key.”

Uzi pulled away, and J froze again. Some new kind of tremor was bleeding out from her core, leaving her whole body off‍-​balance. Wait, was this… excitement?

It was; J was going to be free. She was bouncing. No, that wouldn’t do at all. Keep your composure. She stilled herself, covered it with calm, but the mask was growing taut.

J was going to be free. And then—

Then she stopped bouncing.

Uzi was fiddling with the key, clicking the metal against the outer edge of the lock. When it slipped in, J listened so closely she could feel every gear click and tumbler shifting. Chains went slack, one after another.

This weight that had crushed her for almost a month was falling away. J rose feather‍-​light to her pegs. The manacles slid off, only the collar was left.

Uzi brought her hands to J’s neck. One held the edge of the collar, brushing against her neck, while the other brought the key to lock, searching for the angle to insert. Click. Click. Click. Uzi groaned, and leaned in for a closer look.

J flushed. She bent her knees for Uzi to get closer.

V keeps taunting us. This is strictly professional. But what if…

The other drone was so close. Close enough J could lean over, and a plant a kiss on her visor. Did she want to? It’d be as simple as—

“There we go, finally!”

The collar clicked open, and Uzi pulled away and the chance was gone.

But in its place…

J stretched, extending her arms and neck out fully. She was free!

“Finally out of the red. I’m never missing a interest payment again,” she said, letting her features flash smug for a moment. She stepped forward, and N stepped out of her way. Uzi still hovered at her side, and matched her stride toward the ladder.

J took a good look at the two drones beside her, taking stock of their positioning and attention. N and Uzi, both smiling, laughing at her joke. It felt good. She was smiling, laughing. J felt… light.

“What should we do first, now that you’re free?” N wondered aloud. “Oh, there’s this old movie theater where Uzi fixed up the projector.”

“Still looking for a movie in the right format,” Uzi said. “Testing reels aren’t gonna be much fun.”

“I thought they were neat,” N said. “But okay. Maybe we could look at the sky? I’ve been trying to name the constellations.”

J had no suggestions to contribute. Her smile grew nuanced. She glanced between the two drones on either side of her.

A flinch, a memory‍ ‍—‍ You don’t measure up, V had said. N and Uzi were smiling‍ ‍—‍ at her, or at each other?

It would be effortless to revise her calculations, postpone her worker’s disassembly, wait for the moment that trust was thoughtlessly certain, her guard well and truly vacant.

And yet, that comparison, that competition. Was J a core business parter, or a third party contractor?

No, what was she thinking? It didn’t matter, not now.

It was enough that J was free, and had something to be excited about. This wasn’t the calculation she needed to be making. Uzi had given J three gifts today. The investment in Uzi had paid dividends, regardless of who else held the stock. J wouldn’t forget this.

Oh, but you’ll grovel with every servo you have to properly thank your cute wittle ankle‍-​biter, isn’t that right?

Almost a flinch, but the captain had composure. She took a deep breath, and shot a look to her most loyal squadmate, blowing little bubbles in the pilot’s chair. J wondered if those yellow eyes, too, looked down on her. Even now, from the edge of her screen, V scrutinized her captain’s every move. J nodded once. N was positioned between the two of them, and Uzi was at her other side.

The captain still smiled, but her eyes lost their light. She’d always had a plan, after all. She always had her principles. She would be complete, and complete her mission.

The captain was a snake, and she struck. As J stirred into motion, three things happened at once.

She shouted, “Now, V! Restrain him!”

And she lifted her leg and immediately swept it to the side, catching N in the stomach, knocking him off his feet and back to where V sat.

And she transformed her right arm into a sword. Swung up and put all her weight behind the thrust. Her sharpness extended out and through the smaller drone. The force lifted her ankle‍-​biter up, even as plastic tore and wires split, and oil discharged from a new wound. Plates and struts offered resistance. Meshes flexed before tearing open. Still J was thrusting further, Uzi’s body bending and breaking beneath her, pinning her worker to the wall of the pod.

Coughing up oil. “J! you! why—”

The captain stopped smiling. She opened her mouth, but didn’t know what to say. Every word wrong. There she dissolved silently, a comet reduced before the sun; and oh how hot she felt, with this lead‍-​sweet aroma to clarify her.

Instincts had served her well; efficiently shutting down toasters was a reflex to her, and a critical error was already flashing on the worker’s screen, her eyes flickering off. No need for any words, not now.

Then at her throat cut a blade. One inch between her life and death.

“J, what are you doing? What is this!”

“N? How‍ ‍—‍ V, what did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“I gave you an order!”

V shrugged. “Figured maybe it’s time to start making my own choices.” She blew one last bubble.

“And this is what you picked?”

“Way I see it, it’s you or N. And why would I ever pick you?”

“I’m your captain,” J growled.

“No, you aren’t,” said N. “Right now, you’re a threat. Sit down, and I’ll put the shackles back on. Maybe… maybe we did this too soon. You weren’t ready. I’m sorry.”

“How about this? You let me go, and I’ll let h‍-​her go.” J twitched the sword in Uzi’s chest wound, and tried not to wince as she did it. Her composure was steady. A dim flicker on Uzi’s screen almost broke it, though.

“Can you tell me why, J? Uzi’s always talking about you. You were buddies!”

“I made a mistake, three weeks ago,” J said. She glanced at the toaster, saw kernel init logs scrolling up her screen, and she thrust her sword deeper. “I f‍-​failed. But this time? I’m finishing the job.”

“I won’t let you! Last chance, J, let. her. go!” N wasn’t bluffing‍ ‍—‍ his sword was already digging into J’s neck. Already drawing oil. Already splitting coaxials. A high‍-​pitched sound escaped J, and her tremoring arms only grew more unsteady.

J pulled out, blade black from tip to hilt. Uzi slumped to the ground even as more diagnostics shone violet on her screen.

“Now step back to the wall.”

“Can’t we compromise? I promise I’ll—”

A voice hoarse. “How can I ever believe you? If I give you another chance, you’ll just attack us again!”

“Not letting your guard down that easily, huh?”

“Not again.”

“Too bad. You already did,” J said.

N’d lost track of J’s tail. Now it stuck him in the side, right in the thigh that held up his weight. He folded, and J grabbed his sword‍-​arm in the same motion. Pushed it away from her neck.

J lunged out of his reach, and the only route away from N was the ladder out of the landing pod. V stared hard at her ex‍-​captain climbing out, but could do nothing more.

Frantic, J’s smooth palms slipped on the metal rungs, but she had speed and desperation enough to climb out.

She heard the clanks of someone behind her‍ ‍—‍ no point in looking, though.

Atop the pod, she lept. Her wings burst free, bristling raw from weeks of disuse. J rose, and felt the engines roar to life. Feathers gliding past each other. The dull yellow glow at their joints. Air rushing past flight‍-​spikes and wing‍-​blades, and each coming beat was electric liberty.

J was free. Yes, she’d failed, again, but she was free. She’d get another bailout, she just had to.

Then J felt it.

Death. Punishment. Absolution.

The electromagnetic specter that haunted her nightmares. A swirling, self‍-​amplying maelstorm of destruction. That roaring motor building to crescendo.

And she knew it once again pointed in her direction. Pointing toward her end.

She felt violet eyes locking onto her form. Her wings beat, and she turned. She looked, and briefly saw.

J wasn’t dreaming. Her dreams always stopped at this threshold, a delineation by her own ignorance‍ ‍—‍ as if the railgun’s chaos was so complete it unraveled the dream‍-​fabric.

A ray of blinding green radiation cleaved space.

J had twist‍-​turned, she’d pushed against the air with every joule of force in her wings, she’d tried to dodge.

She wasn’t fast enough. The railgun’s payload still clipped her. Left arm? Dust. Right hand? Dust. Left wing? Dust.

A few feathers on her right wing were gone, and just enough of her thigh was zapped that the leg was unusable, even if ostensibly still attached.

J crashed.

Dirt and ice scraped against her suit. Fabric torn and dirtied. At least she didn’t bleed out‍ ‍—‍ the intense heat of the railgun had performed a kind of mechanical cauterization; her nanites did the rest.

In the vast emptiness of the spire, as little more than an errant piece of debris among so much scrap, J groaned in lonely pain. More of those strange breaths erupted from her, and that onscreen animation of dots that blurred her eyes. Dead drones all above her, a vaulted black disassembly‍-​coffering; she didn’t even get to see the stars again.

Why couldn’t J finally succeed?

Why couldn’t J ever beat her?

Why wasn’t J enough?

Years of resource acquisition upon an ever‍-​dwindling supply of oil, and J thought if, when, the end finally came, it would be her own forge‍-​hot core melting her from within. But J just felt‍ ‍—‍ cold.

Not empty, not thirsty‍ ‍—‍ too full of something unnameable, burden‍-​heavy and yet it couldn’t sustain her, only aching in her core and spilling out in strange breaths and abberant dots animated on her visor.

Time passed with the blinks of bleary eyes.

Boots staggering through the snow. Slow steps‍ ‍—‍ workers didn’t heal, so how was she even moving at all?‍ ‍—‍ but persistent steps. Panting breaths, and J could smell her exhaust. Smell the oil she’d made her drink. Coughing breaths, too. J could smell the oil she’d made her spit up.

“I… hate you. I think I, I really do.”

Aches, breaths, dots.

“I can reciprocate. With interest.” There were words that had made something in J unclench when she said them‍ ‍—‍ these were not those words.

“I never should have spared you. I never should have listened to you! I never should have‍ ‍—‍ been as stupid as you. Screw you. You frickin monster.”

“Well?” J spent the last bit of strength she had to move her head, stare death in the face like she had done almost every night since. “Pull the trigger. We fixed the cooldown, didn’t we?”

“Calculations were busted, remember? Shortened it, but not all the way.” Uzi lifted the gun, revealing the red glow of components too hot to fire. “Maybe if we— no, no shop talk! You tried to kill me again.”

“Mhmm,” J said. Her limbs were regenerating, but the delicate components of disassembly gauntlets were some of the slowest to repackage. This was a race then. Would J fail yet again?

“Convenient, honestly, it means I get to ask what the heck you were thinking‍ ‍—‍ if you were even thinking. Except no, why would I believe a word anymore? It was all lies, wasn’t it? From the beginning to the end. I‍ ‍—‍ never even frickin mattered to you.”

J wheezed a laugh. “Manipulating you was so easy. Effortless.” She watched those violet eyes harden, arms drawing in defensively. J continued, “I didn’t even have to pretend. All I had to do… was stop forcing myself to follow orders.”

Uzi’s blank, speechless look, oh how J had missed that. “Forcing? Forcing? J, nobody is forcing you to follow your orders. You didn’t have to do any of this! Why? Why do it anyway, when it’s doing nothing but hurting you! The company doesn’t care about you. I care about you. Why are you so hopelessly stupid about this?”

J closed her eyes. Let out a shuddering breath. She didn’t have to answer. Why was her vocalsynth loading words? Why couldn’t she keep her composure? She opened her mouth and said, “Do you know what I kept having nightmares about? I kept dreaming about that moment this all started. When you‍ ‍—‍ beat me. How close I was to dying.”

Uzi’s eyes fell to her railgun, and she seemed torn between brandishing it as a threat, or hiding it to put J at ease.

“Not that. It wasn’t about the railgun. It was those eyes. Those ugly purple circles, looking down on me. You aren’t better than me, Uzi. And… as long as I keep my principles, I keep my dignity.”

“I wasn’t looking down on you. I don’t want to look down on you!” Uzi fell down on her butt, then scooted a bit closer. “I wanted to be like, friends and stuff. Maybe… I don’t know. I thought you felt the same way.”

“I felt a lot of things. What matters is what I choose. Falling in love is… so humiliating. Why would I choose that? H‍-​ha.” The laugh turned to coughs, but they were lighter than before; she was healing.

Uzi leaned over, as if to double check that J wasn’t laughing at her expense. “Love? J, is that how—”

But J interrupted. “Hey. Tell me about N. You two… has he kissed you yet?”

“What? Why would he. We’re not—”

With the little bit of strength J regained, she pushed herself up off the ground with her one arm. Brushed her lips against Uzi’s. Off‍-​center, too quick, with nothing right about the moment. Disappointing.

Still soft and wet. Warm, but cooler than her. Gasping in pleasure, or just shock.

Uzi was pulling away quickly.

“J, what the hell. You can’t – You didn’t‍ ‍—‍ Don’t do that! Ask first! That’s not okay.”

“I wonder if he saw that,” J said. “He doesn’t deserve to be your first.”

“Ugh. Are you serious? Is this just some frickin pride thing to you? How could I ever even stand talking to you, you stuck up—”

“I never had a chance, did I?”

“Quit interrupting me,” Uzi snapped. “J, if you hadn’t just done‍ ‍—‍ all of this? If you had just. Ugh. Damn it, J. Maybe. Maybe we could have… been something. If you weren’t—”

“Myself.”

“If that’s what you think you are, then yeah I guess. Your self sucks. A lot.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“Wow, I couldn’t tell.”

“I did what I had to do. I stayed true to what I am until the end.” The only one you’re lying to is yourself. “Kill me, if that’s what you are, but don’t let yourself be corrupted away from that. The only way to never regret what you do is to control yourself. To keep yourself composed of pure principle.”

J closed her eyes.

Jarring her reflection, that addictively grating voice: “Oh no, no wisdom thing! You are not telling me how to live my life when you’re the one on the tragic deathbed. Tragic because of your own stupid self‍-​imposed rules, might I add!”

Didn’t she see J’s limbs regenerating? Oh well, if she didn’t, J would keep that card up her sleeve.

However this played out from here, J knew she’d reached the end of a dream. She had known it would end like this, that it had to end like this. Her dreams always ended like this: betrayal staining her hands, and those violet eyes looking down on her.

The failed captain wondered how it always had to end for the worker.

But she knew this answer, too‍ ‍—‍ that girl had told her of the nightmares she awoke from.

J smiled and said, “Good work, Uzi.”

The lights of the railgun were changing, progress bars nearly filled. Aluminum and polycarbonate were shifting, limbs nearly reconstructed. These two alarms would go off in quick succession, it was clear.

Would J rather stay asleep? Had they been nightmares, in the end? Or something almost pleasant? Would she miss this?

A caged bird was treasured‍ ‍—‍ she could miss that.

And J is stirring.