I blame his meliorism.
Wrists bound, we sat cross-legged in a dank warehouse. Five men circled like vultures, clinging modified machine guns with bayonets and strings of rounds. Their haphazard clothing gave them away as a rebellious sect with little to no leadership. Insulation and wallpaper hung from the ceiling in tattered drapes, garbage cluttering the floor and the scent of urine emanating from every corner. Flies buzzed, indiscriminately landing and nibbling on any bare skin.
I blew one off my shoulder, turning to glare at Liam. “Happy now, your highness?”
He tossed a snarl my way but remained focused on our captors. “He seemed nice enough.”
“This isn’t the Upper Heights. If they don’t spit in your face, they want something.”
“And if they threaten to chop off a finger?”
I leaned away, rolling my eyes. “You need to get over that.”
“That’s a tall order.”
Whirring grated my ears. One of the men came close, cyber leg clunking against the bare concrete. “Stop talking,” he growled, spit dripping to the ground. The right side of his face was a permanent scar, mouth sewn open to reveal gnashing yellow teeth and a bolted jaw. His cybernetic eye moved of its own accord, analyzing us and the room. Most likely a glitch.
Pistons wheezed as he stepped closer, the mismatched components working overtime to function as one. “Give us the computer.”
Liam straightened, skin paling. “What computer?”
“You know what we want, boy.”
“I honestly don’t.”
Keep stalling, prince charming. Leaning to the side, I got a better look at the exposed wires and pistons. The rusted metal coverings rubbed against the primary structure, meaning particles would clog the pumps. Not to mention restricting the ball joint that functioned as a knee, though that looked shot. Oh, hold on. Where’d he get a morph component?
The slap stung my cheek. I hit the unforgiving ground, moving my jaw. Blood dripped into my mouth.
“Leave her be!”
“What are you looking at, princess?”
I flipped onto my back, staring up at the gnarled man. “Don’t know what second-rate mechanic you got to cobble together your leg, but he had good parts.”
He glanced at his appendage, confusion registering along the left side of his face.
“I could patch it up. Maybe you’ll get full range of motion.”
Liam’s freckled face brightened, the interjection sitting on his tongue. I kicked him.
Hard.
The rebel leader twisted his leg, the metal creaking and wheezing. “What you need?”
“My tools. And my hands.”
“Your tools. His hands.” He nodded to Liam, a grin stretching his wrinkled and scarred face. Not waiting for an argument, he lumbered to the back corner where they’d thrown my satchel.
I glared at Liam, shaking my wrists. He grabbed my hands and yanked me up.
Into his forehead.
Yelping, I hoped the wound wouldn’t bruise too badly. Had enough of those. “Okay, listen carefully. You’re going to remove the outer panels with my mini drill.”
He stopped rubbing his forehead to whisper, “We’re actually fixing him?”
“Course not,” I hissed. “These guys have heard enough speeches about comradery and overthrowing the Chairman to make their ears bleed.” Glancing at our gnarled friend, I added, “Or cause their limbs to fall off.”
“Then what are we doing?”
I glared at him, wondering how he’d made it this long. Those naive little brown eyes and desirable jawline were practically crimes in the Outskirts. Add the bounty on his head and he was a walking opportunity. And yet he still expected that humanity could be trusted to fix our broken world.
Only machines could be trusted. In one way or another.
My bag dropped in front of us, an unbalanced chair scraping along the floor. He sat down, extending his leg. One of his men untied Liam. “Work,” he commanded.
Liam gulped, running his hands through his blond locks before reaching into my bag. Grabbing the mini drill, he removed the bolts holding the outer plates. Backing away, he gave me a decent view.
Version one cyber replacement, used during the Robot Revolution to mend veterans and people stupid enough to join the experiment. Basic metal rod structure with a ball joint, pistons and pumps replacing the function of muscle. The morph component, along with other wiring, were version three cybernetic enhancements based on the dissection of the bots we’d waged war against for nearly a decade. Most likely he got those sometime after the Chairman took power, mechanics having full range of equipment but no idea what anything was.
I’d been right about the rust affecting the older parts. The newer ones seemed worn, but not kaput. Little oil, maybe some new screws.
“Uh, Adeline.”
I rummaged through the bag, handing him a long screwdriver with a small tip. “Seems you got new parts that are interfering with the primary function. We’ll need to remove them to reach the problem.”
“Remove?”
“Just unscrew that little gearbox.”
Liam followed instruction, loosing the morph component.
I eyed the wiring carefully, looking for the sweet spot. His men drew near, less tense than before. Tapping Liam’s shoulder, I tried to get him to notice the incoming trouble.
He nodded. Meaning… what?
“Done.” He ripped the box off the limb, wires sparking. The leg spasmed, the man growling in pain. All eyes fell on the leader.
I threw my shoulder into the closest guy’s knee, a definitive crack curdling my insides. He toppled. Using the knife on his gun, I cut my restraints and grabbed the weapon. A spray of bullets blanketed the walls, a few shots hitting one of the others.
Liam dragged the weapon from my grasp and grabbed my hand. He had dispatched the other two, my screwdriver stabbed in one’s neck and a squarish dent drawing blood from the other.
Outside the warehouse, I skidded to a stop. “Wait, where’s the morph component?”
“That this thingy?” Liam waved the gearbox, blood dripping on the slightly compressed casing.
“Are you stupid! Those are impossible to find. I gotta clean it before the blood clogs the-”
“Uh-uh.” Liam pulled away, using his extra height to his advantage. “You want this, you help me.”
Heat flooded my mind, neck burning. “Heck no. I deserve it for getting you out of that mess back there.”
His gaze mellowed, though a smirk brewed under his feigned unconcern. “Fine. Then I guess you can find another morph thingy.”
I bit my lip, eyeing the part. A thousand junkyards, a hundred scrap heaps. Never had I seen such a coveted component.
And blood was drying on the mechanisms.
Eyes scrunched, I stomped my foot. “Fine. But don’t think I buy into your melioristic daydream.”
He smiled, bringing the part into arm’s reach. “No worries. I just need someone who fixes things.”