Chapter Two
Sold!
Twenty-four years of service and . . . discarded.
At least I’m healthy, and they didn’t send me to the arena to be slaughtered by some stuck up damned True brat.
But the big fancy RV the wary guards herded him toward was not what he expected.
The side door slid open.
“C’mon in.” A cheerful voice. “So are you Seventy-three or . . .”
“Nine Thirty-five.” A deep growl he didn’t even try to soften.
Dark, after the bright sun outside, so it took a moment for him to really see the man . . . the fairly short thin figure . . .
Nine Thirty-five climbed aboard. Wearing nothing but white shorts. Embarrassing, but he knew that was not the impression given by the lifetime collection of scars spotted around his torso. Arms. Legs. Not to mention, muscular, no extra fat.
“There’re clothes over there on the couch, sandwiches and drinks in the fridge. And let’s get out of here.”
Then the details of the speaker registered as his real eye caught up with the ocular.
“I did not expect a kid.”
The boy grinned. “I will have you know that I passed my Presentation . . .” a glance at his watch . . . seventy-five hours ago. Lord Gogi Bogdan Vogel.”
The kid slipped into the driver’s seat, put the RV into gear and backed out. Expertly, thank God.
He doesn’t look old enough to have a license!
“Gogi Bogdan? Wasn’t that the evil killer from that old movie . . .”
“Yes.”
And he doesn’t like it? Why is he using it?
“I was told a company had bought me.”
“PFUG, Inc. Pee Fug. Which stands for Project Find Uncle Gustav.”
A long silence, while he considered that.
Then, “Who are you, other than a name from a movie, and where are we going to go to find Uncle Gustav?” He grabbed a pair of pants and put them on. A little loose, better than the opposite.
“Ah, you don’t sound like you have many Control Impressions. Good, they’re always a pain in the ass to remove.”
This boy can cancel Controls?
“Who am I? Well, it’s not really my story.
“My mother and her brother were attacked by a gang of over-privileged lords. She was raped, but managed to escape, eventually. Her brother was never recovered. The rapist lords, brought before the Inquisition, said that he had been taken to Khrushchev, cyborged, and sold. The ones who might have known more had been killed resisting arrest. I’m the result of that rape, and for five years I’ve been using all the money they were sued for, to buy every KHR Cyborg created that year, who shows up on the board. ”
Nine Thirty-five boggled. “Just . . . hoping to find your uncle? And how many of us have claimed to be him?”
“Wouldn’t work. I’ve got his DNA profile.”
“And what good would finding him do?”
The kid turned into the Portal Facility gate, and drove up, checked the board and lined up for T3 Boreal.
“A Vacation World?” Socks . . . find shoes the right size . . .
“T3 Boreal is a reasonably nice resort World. Resident population about half a million. Very pretty, with lots of cheap places to stay for an inexpensive family vacation. Hiking in the summer, skiing in the winter. I’ve got a place there. Looks like an hour’s wait.”
Nine Thirty-five pulled a t-shirt over his head and slipped into the passenger seat. “How many Cyborgs have you bought, in this search for your lost uncle?”
“You’re number twenty-two. Most of the guys still live on Boreal. If you like police work, I expect the locals would be glad to hire you.”
“Hire?”
“Well, technically rent, but they’d be paying into your account.”
“And your mother lets you do this?”
“My mother ignores my existence. Her father was called to the 300. My distant cousin, the new Head of Family, is an alcoholic. No one lets me. I just do it.”
“Good grief, kid.” He eyed Gogi. “And you just passed your Presentation? You’ve been doing this for years?”
“Yeah, well, I had some help until I was old enough to drive. I was a tall kid.”
He shook his head. “I think I’m glad I’m not a cop anymore.”
The boy grinned. “Well, I’m hungry. You want a sandwich?” He swiveled his chair around and headed for the fridge.
“Yeah . . . I think my stomach’s settled down enough.” He found the lever to swivel his chair and took the offered paper-wrapped hoagie.
And after a couple of bites . . . “So, you own twenty-two Cyborgs?”
“Meh. For some definition of ‘owned.’” He eyed his latest. “So, are you a stickler for the letter of the law that let someone cyborg you? Do you support the slave culture?”
“Oh, God, child! Without the law you’ve got barbarism, and a whole lot worse.”
“Worse than 95% of the human race enslaved?”
“Well . . . close. And it’s only 90%”
“Even True women are chipped, and married off according to their fathers’ wishes.”
“Umm . . .”
“Anyway. I only disobey a few laws involving chipping and stuff. And maybe some computer hacking.”
“Teenagers!”
“Is that supposed to be an insult, or just recognition that a fair number of teenagers can do at least some minor hacks?”
Nine Thirty-five thought that over as he finished off his sandwich. “Recognition. And most are dead bad at it.”
“Well, I don’t steal money. Well, all right, I hacked into the account where all the recompense money went . . . for my mother’s rape and the loss of my uncle. But I’m using it to try and find and rescue my uncle. So, morally ambiguous, even though I do feel a little guilty about it.”
Nine squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“Am I about to become an accessory after the fact?”
“Umm, only in that you heard me say something, but have no knowledge of what I did or didn’t actually do.”
“Thin . . . but I’ll take it.”
“All right. So. Just speculating . . . Ah, time for the Portal.” The kid restarted the engine and followed the other traffic through.
Was waved through the checkpoint on the far side, and headed for the freeway.
“They don’t check you?”
“I’m a regular, a property owner. Lord Gogi Vogel. Respected citizen.”
“On paper, no doubt.”
“No, no. I own a small resort. A little hotel almost in the mountains, and I have a comprehensive automated clinic. With a medic. I get a lot of sprained ankles.
“So, as I was about to say . . . Just speculating. If, for instance, there was a way to, umm, uncyborg you, which would be quite illegal, would you leap to stop me, or go for it?”
“Geeze, Kid! Of course I’d go for it!” He sighed. “That wasn’t a fair test. And it would involve at least one capital offense. So having admitted to having a limit to my legal obedience . . . what are you actually up to?”
Gogi snickered. “Eh, not sure I ought to actually tell a policeman, even retired, that the highly illegal Orgy drug is actually hundreds of healing micro . . . things that not only remove inhibitions, they dissolve zivvy. Which is no doubt why it’s so very illegal, with such stiff penalties.”
“You have got to be fucking kidding me!”
“No. Then it’s just a matter of practicing medicine without a license. Although I do have a medic with a license for, you know, minor stuff on a Cyborg. Antibiotics, treating minor injuries. The surgical part is . . . umm . . .”
“There goes my stomach again. So are there twenty-one one-armed men lacking binocular vison living around here?”
“The Orgy drug heals the eye, and triggers stem cells for the regrowth of the missing arm. It takes three years, and the new arm doesn’t always grow quite right.”
“Lav. This thing had better have a lav. I’m about to lose that sandwich.”
The kid grinned. “So, I bought a little resort that had gone bankrupt. Too low for reliable snow, not all that great for hiking. Think about it. Talk to the other guys.”
He got up and headed for the back. Checked out the lav but didn’t use it.
“It’s another hour’s drive. Kick back and relax. Or take a nap.”
“Go fetal?”
“Yeah, common reaction.”
“How many years . . .”
“Five. The first couple years were slow, but now everyone wants to sell their forty-year-old Cyborgs while they’re still worth something. You’re the fourth one this year. So far.”
“It’s only May . . . Holy . . . And shouldn’t you be in school?”
“On Netz. I’m barely exaggerating when I say no one cares what I do. They’d probably care if I got too visible and took on airs.”
“Oh. My. God.” He sat on a seat in the back and stared out the window. Trees. Bright blue sky. Fresh air, when he opened a window. Tall mountain in the distance, topped with white. Presumably snow. I’ve only lived in deserts and the tropics.
Maybe I’ve got a brain infection and I’m hallucinating.