Defy the Worlds (Defy the Stars #2)(85)
“Not yours. Not to me.” He shakes his head. “You’re my priority.”
“And you’re mine.”
She can tell he wants to argue more, but he looks down at his damaged hands. If emotion won’t convince him, logic will. Sure enough, after a couple of seconds, he nods. “If you run into any difficulty whatsoever—”
“I’ll call for you.”
“And if you’re even slightly uncertain—”
“Same thing.”
Abel kisses her hand this time, then lets her go.
Noemi shimmies into the narrow opening of the service tube, pausing after a meter or two to take stock of the few tools she’s collected, and to slide a pair of night-vision goggles down into place. In the corridors, she could manage, but down here it’s nearly pitch-black. The damage of the crash is strongly apparent here, with the bent girders and collapsed struts of the Osiris naked and exposed. When she saw the useless murals and gilding, stepped over the shattered finery, she saw only the waste. Now that she’s in the belly of the thing, looking at its raw strength, Noemi realizes how splendid a ship it really was.
It was meant to be a vehicle of resurrection, she thinks. If it hadn’t been for the passengers’ greed and Remedy’s anger, this ship could’ve brought an entire planet’s worth of settlers to humanity’s next home. It really would have been a rebirth.
In the green-tinted world presented by the night-vision goggles, Noemi spots the mine almost immediately. Its wires sprawl in multiple directions, like one of the heptapod squids native to Genesis’s oceans. Still, with a mine, scale is relatively unimportant. Defuse the central mechanism, and all the arms go dead.
Still in the tunnel, she lowers herself into the broader open space beneath the mine. It’s barely high enough for her to stand in; Fouda must’ve sent someone short down here. Still, she can lean back a little, brace her shoulder against one of the walls, and be steady.
Doffing her goggles, Noemi turns on her small light again to check wire and tab coloration. The pattern clarifies and aligns with one she studied back in training, a pretty basic model that practically shows her how to defuse it.
With a grim smile, Noemi takes up the nearby emergency tool kit and gets to work.
What would Captain Baz think of her now? She’d be proud, probably—assuming she doesn’t hate Noemi for taking so damn long to help Genesis. As for Darius Akide—
What’s that noise?
She ducks, extracting her tools from the mine as she peers through the darkness of the tunnel. Seeing anything is impossible, but she knows she didn’t imagine that scraping sound. Swiftly she tugs her night-vision goggles down over her eyes and looks out—
—at Simon smiling back at her.
He whispers, “Peekaboo.”
28
ABEL ACCEPTS NOEMI’S DECISION TO TAKE ON THE mines herself. Although he considers following several paces behind her, he abandons this plan almost immediately; if he distracted her at the wrong moment, it could be dangerous to her. If she felt he didn’t trust her to handle something well within her capabilities… that could be dangerous to him.
Besides, she was right. Now that he’s sitting still with nothing to do but rest, he realizes how much his reaction times have slowed. He’s drained the reserves of his regenerative ability; he won’t be able to heal until he’s rested. Noemi recognized that even before he did.
My programming prioritizes handling problems for humans. Naturally I want to do things for Noemi. But perhaps emotional attachment programs humans to do the same.
Fresh wonder opens within his mind as he remembers that Noemi is emotionally attached to him—that she can’t imagine leading her life without—
He hears metal creak underneath. Localizing his hearing, he determines that the sound is coming from directly under his position, and that in addition to the metal, he can also make out the sound of shuffling feet.
Noemi shouldn’t be down there. That’s nowhere near the mine. Her position would be several meters ahead—
—which is where the footsteps are headed.
Instantly Abel’s on his feet, dashing to the nearest passageway. He reminds himself, This is why humans should never make the plans!
The closest hatch door is only a meter away. Lowering himself down is easy, as is moving quickly and silently through the corridor. His infrared vision allows him to glimpse a small human form—slightly too soft, with uneven footsteps—yes, it’s Simon. Confirmation comes one second later in the most chilling form possible: Simon’s voice saying, “What makes you go?”
“What do you mean?” Noemi sounds so calm, so steady.
“You’re not like me and Abel,” says Simon. “You’re just a person. I don’t understand what makes people go.”
“I bet you have that information in your databanks,” she answers, keeping her tone even. “I bet Abel would be willing to help you figure out how to access it. In fact, I know he would.”
Abel’s fear for her is mingled with fierce pride.
“Let’s go see him together,” she continues. “He wants to make things better for you, I promise.”
Noemi doesn’t trust Simon. She fears him. But for Abel’s sake, she treats him with kindness and tries to give him hope. He doesn’t have to defend Simon from her any longer… which is why he can see Simon more clearly than before: The awkward way he shuffles forward, though at this point Simon’s mind should’ve adapted to the basic parameters of his new body. The slope of his shoulders, the angle of which has adjusted remarkably wider since Abel first glimpsed him—as though his inner structure hasn’t firmed enough to hold. The rawness of Simon’s skin, which had to have been even softer than a newborn’s when he emerged from his tank, and is now severely abraded with no sign of healing.