Inhuman(38)

Rich looked down at the screen in front of him, which showed a real-time image of the enormous vessel quickly gaining on them from behind. “You better plot the course and open the first wormhole, because we’re getting sucked into this thing’s gravity!”

“I’ve almost got it. Just need to—”

A second later, a lone android male, on a kamikaze-like trajectory crashed himself right into the front of their ship. He clung to the front screen, digging his powerful fingertips into the transparent palladium composite, causing shear bands to form on the screen’s surface.

“Uh, we just got a hop on,” Rich stated over his shoulder to Djanet. His eyes met those of the android, who bared his teeth ferociously as he determinedly held on to the post-human craft. The android then began to look around the craft, craning his neck, swiveling to examine the structure for any potentially compromising weaknesses.

“I’m ready to open the first wormhole!” Djanet confirmed for Rich. “It’ll be a rough ride for him. Maybe we can shake him off?”

“I’d be comfortable with that!” Rich called back as he watched the android attempt to punch through the palladium. Luckily, even its powerful fist wasn’t enough to cause anything more than a scuff. “Yeah,” Rich continued, “let’s give that a try. Quickly.”

“All right. Brace yourself.”

Rich held on to the console in front of him. “Hit it!”

Djanet opened the first wormhole, and the familiar white whirlwind of sound and fury enveloped them.





13



“You really have been cut down to size,” Thel whispered harshly to the A.I. as they made their way up the elevator in the candidate’s building, “because anyone with even half a normal human brain wouldn’t think this is a great place to lie low.”

James was almost able to stand under his own power, his head having cleared enough that he could speak, but he squinted in the harsh light of the elevator as Thel and the A.I. continued to help prop him up on his unsteady, rubbery legs. “Wh-where are we?” he asked.

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire,” Thel replied.

“What?” he groaned in reply.

“We’re in the candidate’s building,” the A.I. answered. His complexion was frighteningly pale as he hadn’t yet stopped the blood from oozing out of his partially consumed face. He held his still sopping-wet jacket against it, trying to keep the blood from dripping onto the elevator floor, attempting to prevent a pool of blood forming, leaving clear evidence behind of their presence.

“Easily the stupidest hideout we could have—” Thel began before the A.I. gently cut her off.

“Not a hideout, per se. It’s imperative that we be here,” the A.I. stated.

“If the candidate finds us, he’ll tear us to shreds,” Thel countered.

“That’s unlikely.”

The elevator stopped, just one floor before the penthouse, just below the belly of the supposed beast.

The door opened.

The A.I. stepped out into the hallway first, swiveled his head to look both ways, then stepped back into the elevator to help Thel with James. “The coast is clear,” he said in a low tone.

“The sim is purging,” Thel replied. “If an NPC sees us and they start swarming, we’ve got no way to protect ourselves.”

“Let’s just get him to the bedroom,” the A.I. said as he recognized the similar layout of the apartment to that of the penthouse just one floor above. Though the memories were old, they hadn’t faded in the slightest. The apartment they were now in was extraordinarily similar to the one in which he’d been burned alive—a recollection he wouldn’t soon forget.

They laid James on the bed, and he groaned softly. “Thank you,” he said in a faint whisper.

The A.I. put the back of his hand on James’s forehead. “Good. No fever.”

“What’s a fever?” Thel asked.

The A.I. briefly considered how little people like Thel, born in the era of post-humanism, knew about the frailty of the natural human body. “A fever is one of the body’s natural defenses. If there’s an infection, the body automatically raises its temperature to try kill it. The absence of a fever means James doesn’t have an infection—at least not yet.”

“Should we lay him on his side or…”

“I don’t know,” the A.I. said with a shrug. “The sim does have a rudimentary version of the Internet, however. We all lost our aug glasses in the crash,” he said as he got up from the side of the bed and started searching the apartment for a device, “but if I can get online, I’m sure I can find directions.”