Dustwalker

Chapter 48 #3

Jessica swallowed thickly, eased back in the chair, and placed her hands atop the desk.

“It’s apparent that the magnitude of the changes he endured were too much for his mind to cope with.

Everything is different for him. He sees, hears, and feels in ways that no human was meant to.

The everyday bodily functions of his old life are gone, and it’s given his already fragile mind excessive time to wander.

He rages against what he is and clings to what he was.

“Perhaps it’s a matter of…mental fortitude?

Tenacity? We don’t know. He’s the only successful candidate.

It’s possible that this process would break anyone subjected to it…

All I know is that he is dangerous. God, I can’t imagine what would happen if the government tried to use this to produce soldiers. ”

Her head sagged, strands of dark hair falling into her face.

“This isn’t what I wanted. You have to believe me, it’s not what any of us wanted.

This was supposed to help people. He told us in his final pre-op interview that the risks were worth the chance at more time with his family.

And now… He is, effectively, immortal, and he cannot spend any of that time with the people he loves the most.

“He’d said that if he had died during the procedure, it would’ve spared them his suffering. And what have I done but tainted their last memories of him?”

She tilted her head back. Her dark eyes sparkled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she rasped, and reached for the camera. The feed cut out.

Heavy silence fell over the war room. Ronin’s processors poured over the information. What kind of world had this been all those years ago?

“We thought it important for all of you to see this,” Newton said, “because we want you to understand that he was once a man.

I worked closely with Doctor Anderson throughout the procedure, and I am the one who reactivated Kevin Turner, with full knowledge of his history.

I hoped he would find a new purpose in the rebuilding of this world. I was wrong in my assessment of him.

“I cannot say with any certainty whether he recalls his previous life. He made no indication of such during our brief interactions after I made him operational. Regardless, it is clear that he has violently distanced himself from humanity. Please, make no mistake—he operates with malice, not the cold, logical front he projects.”

Newton tilted his head down, directing his optics at the table.

“I would not normally condone violence. Doctor Anderson did not program it into my functions when he created me, and our work together was performed with the hope of achieving a golden age of peace, prosperity, and comfort. There is a chance that, somewhere deep within his coding, some of Kevin Turner remains in Warlord. There is a chance he can be reasoned with.”

Lara stiffened, and her fingers dug into Ronin’s hand.

“But I cannot ask any of you to risk your safety on that chance,” Newton continued. “Kevin Turner suffered unduly, and all our good intentions cannot reverse that. It is time for the suffering to end.”

Beside Ronin, Lara released a slow, unsteady breath, and the tension in her grip eased.

It was natural for bots to calculate odds, to weigh probability heavily in their decisions.

Perhaps Ronin’s risk-assessment functions had been damaged in the Blackout.

He actively sought danger by going into the Dust, and he should’ve met his end a thousand times over. But even he could recognize the odds.

The attackers were far more likely to die to a man than Warlord was to be swayed by words.

“I’m sure most of you have questions,” Rodriguez said, drawing all eyes back to him.

“I do, too, but we don’t have the time or the information to answer all of them.

Still, before I dismiss you, I want to reiterate this…

there are people suffering in that town, every day.

People who don’t know when their next meal might be.

People who don’t have someone like Nancy to take care of them when they’re sick.

People who wake up every day to the likelihood that it will be their last.

“We pull this off, and we’re helping all those people.

But we’ll be securing our own future, as well.

This place was never meant to be used as a permanent settlement.

We need the sun. We need fields for our crops.

We need open air. And we need to reach out, to broaden our community, if we want it to flourish. ”

The room quieted again. Ronin ran his optics over the soldiers. Many of them were young, and they had likely never exchanged fire with hostile forces. How many of them would be dead before this was over? How many were realizing their mortality right now?

“When do we leave?” Lara asked.

“Three hours before dawn. Get your gear prepped tonight and get to sleep early.” Rodriguez stood. “Dismissed.”

Still holding Lara’s hand, Ronin led her out of the war room amidst the departing soldiers. As they wound through the corridors, the crowd thinned, until he and Lara were alone in a long, silent hallway.

Data, new and old, whirred through his processors, almost too fast for him to keep up with. It was sorted, sifted, classified, and redirected into countless simulations, compared to countless potential outcomes.

Tomorrow, they would march into Cheyenne, the stronghold of a monster who’d killed dozens—if not hundreds—of innocent humans and bots during his reign. The monster who’d raped and beaten Lara, who’d murdered Tabitha, who would have ended Ronin and Lara, were it not for Newton and sheer chance.

Ronin had already acknowledged the near impossibility of Lara’s very existence, the inconceivable chains of cause-and-effect stretching through epochs to result, ultimately, in the woman he loved.

Their survival was a similar collection of chance occurrences—the sudden storm, their proximity to the farmhouse, Lara’s discovery of the shelter behind it and Newton’s presence within.

His decision to remain hidden while the gearheads attacked, and their decision not to search the shelter.

Newton’s guidance in locating the base and Captain Cooper’s willingness to assist strangers in need. Nancy’s dedication and skill.

Had any one of those factors been missing or altered, the entire chain of events might’ve collapsed. One variation and Ronin and Lara might well have died.

Ronin’s CPU suddenly linked it all to a wholly human concept, one that had always been outside his comprehension.

Fate.

As he and Lara stepped into their room, she withdrew her hand from his and turned to him. “What’s running through that head of yours?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “My central processing unit and data storage are located in my torso.”

She chuckled. “It’s a saying. You always take everything so literally.” She nudged him before sitting on the bed.

Ronin smirked. “Perhaps you need to familiarize yourself with my anatomy a little better.”

Laughing, she leaned back on her elbows and wiggled her brows. “Maybe I should.”

Despite her playful tone, her smile was strained, and a shadow lurked in her eyes. She always projected strength and stubbornness, never backed down from a fight. But that didn’t mean she was without fear.

He eased down beside Lara. “Honestly, there’s not enough time in this day, month, or year to tell you what’s going through my mind.

You insist on going tomorrow, and I know nothing I say will stop you.

We’ll be over a mile apart, surrounded by enemies.

I have to accept that I cannot be there to protect you and must somehow entrust that task to others. ”

“It’s the right thing to do, Ronin. They’re more likely to trust me, knowing I lived in the same shit hole as them, over some strangers with guns.”

“I know it’s the right thing.” Ronin shifted onto his knees and leaned over her, slipping his fingers into her red hair. He stared into her eyes, marveling at their intricate, delicate weave of vibrant blues and subtle grays. “But I don’t want to do it.”

Those eyes studied his features as though searching for an answer upon his face, and a small crease appeared between her brows. She shifted, moving her arms out from beneath her to lie upon the bed, and pressed her palm to his cheek. “Why?”

“Because your life is too great a price to pay for their freedom.”

She looked away, frowning, and the crease between her brows deepened. Her lower lip quivered.

“I don’t want to die, Ronin. After finding you, after everything we’ve been through…

I want to live. More than ever, I want to live.

With you.” Tears had gathered in her eyes when she looked at him again.

“But my life is a flicker compared to yours. You’ll keep going on, and I’ll be dead in fifty years, or thirty, or ten.

Or tomorrow. And so will all those people.

They deserve a chance to live on their terms before then, too. ”

Before meeting Lara, Ronin had been directionless.

A wanderer. His actions had often defied logic, and the rewards he’d pried from the dusty, skeletal grip of the dead world had rarely been worth the risks he took to get them.

Yet despite his illogical behavior, he never could’ve comprehended why she was so determined to return to Cheyenne after what she’d suffered. Not until now.

He smoothed back the hair from her face and wiped away her falling tears with his thumb.

“Your life is my purpose, Lara, and I think I understand why you’re willing to risk it.

I disagree with you putting yourself in danger, but because it’s important to you, I will go, and I will do whatever is necessary. I will fight for them...for you.”

Ronin leaned his forehead against hers. “So long as I function, you will not die tomorrow, nor any other day, for many, many years.”

Lara exhaled shakily and embraced him. “I’ll try to keep out of trouble.”

Ronin smiled. “Don’t lie to me, Lara Brooks. You’re going there specifically to cause trouble.”

“Okay, out of unnecessary trouble, then.”

Withdrawing one of her arms from around him, she slipped her hand beneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his abdomen. The sensation danced across his sensors. Her eyes and cheeks were wet from her tears, but she’d never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment.

“What will we do after all this?” she asked.

His processing power had been so devoted to the countless possibilities for tomorrow that he hadn’t thought about the day after that at all. Their success, their survival, was too uncertain.

“I don’t know,” he said, after a long pause.

“I want to go back to your house.”

Ronin tilted his head. “After all this, you still want to return to Cheyenne?”

She flattened her palm against his stomach. “The place was never the problem, Warlord was. Without him, Cheyenne can be rebuilt into something better. For everyone. Your house…it became a home for me, a real home. And it’s where I fell in love with you.”

The frantic simulations slowed as Ronin’s processors shifted toward the present. Toward Lara.

Death wasn’t an issue for bots. As he’d once told her, there was on and off. Despite his core programming’s drive to err on the side of self-preservation, he did not fear his eventual deactivation. Hell, he’d been through it at least twice already.

But the idea of Lara’s death, of a future without her…

that sparked true fear inside him. Irrational fear, the kind that whispered in distant corners of his consciousness, preying upon his inadequacies.

She’d changed him, fundamentally and forever.

How could he revert to a directionless life after she was gone?

“Then that is where we’ll stay,” he said. “Though…if you still want to go, I promised I would take you to the ocean.”

“Yes. I want to see the endless waves, like in that book.” Her hand slid higher, sweeping over his chest and brushing his nipples.

She shifted her hips, skirt falling to reveal her thighs, and smoothed her foot along his calf.

“We can see the ocean and then go back home. We could even tell the neighbors about it, but most of them probably wouldn’t believe us. ”

Electric tingles of pleasure pulsed through Ronin as she caressed his skin. Holding himself up on one arm, he placed a hand on her thigh and skimmed it toward her hip, bunching the fabric of her skirt around his wrist. She shivered beneath his touch and released a soft, shuddering breath.

“It won’t matter what they think,” he said, focusing his optics on her lips.

“Not even a little.” She spread her knees wide, opening herself to him.

“You’re all that matters, Lara Brooks.”

She smiled. Her hand stopped at the center of his chest, directly over his CPU. “Love me, Ronin.”

He eased over her, nestling his hips between her thighs. “Long after the Dust claims me.”