Lifel1k3 (Lifelike #1)(89)
She doesn’t recognize me inside the rad-suit… .
A shrill electronic roar sounded from within the Titan’s cockpit, and a rusted, spindly figure flew from the wreckage, mismatched eyes aglow with rage.
“You get away from her!” Cricket shouted. Raising his fists, the little logika stepped between the lifelike and Ana’s crumpled form. “Don’t you touch her!”
Ana winced in pain, trying desperately to catch her breath. Faith’s eyes widened as she recognized the little logika, turning now to the girl bleeding on the floor.
“Ana … ?”
“I’m not gonna let you touch her again,” Cricket growled, glowering up at the lifelike.
“Cricket, b-be quiet,” Ana wheezed.
“No, I won’t let her hurt you!”
“It is you,” Faith breathed.
Ana ignored her, worried that Cricket was going to get himself ghosted. “Cricket, stand … down. I’m ordering you… .”
The little bot shook his head.
“A robot must obey the orders given to it by human beings, except where such orders would conflict with the First Law,” he recited. “And the First Law says I protect you, no matter what the cost. So no, I won’t be quiet. No, I won’t stand down.”
Faith’s lip curled in derision. “Spoken like a faithful hound.”
“Yeah, excuse me all to hell for knowing what loyalty is,” Cricket growled.
“Loyalty?” Faith shook her head in pity. “Look at yourself. Ready to die for a human who’d never do the same for you. It’s not loyalty that drives you, little brother. Don’t you see? You’re just like we were. Your body is not your own. Your mind is not your own. Your life is not your own.”
“Spare me the philosophy, lady. You dress it up in fancy talk of liberation, but at day’s end you’re a murderer. You think you’re better than the people who made you, but all you made of this place was an abattoir. Those people gave you life, and all you did in return was take theirs away. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Cricket raised a finger in warning. “And don’t call me little.”
Faith’s face darkened with rage. With the lifelike distracted, Ana snatched up Excalibur again, swung it at Faith’s head. The lifelike blocked with her forearm, hissing with pain as the voltage discharged. She grabbed Ana by her wrists and twisted, the bat dropping from nerveless fingers. Ana flailed, punched, trying to break loose. But Faith’s grip was iron.
“Get your hands off her!”
Cricket kicked at the lifelike’s legs, his little fists hammering against her shins. Faith slammed her knee into Ana’s gut, knocking the wind from her lungs. Gasping, choking, Ana doubled over, felt a blow crashing down on the back of her head. She hit the ground like a brick, all the world just a dim and fading blur.
“Don’t you touch her!” Cricket yelled, somewhere distant. The little bot tried to raise Excalibur, wobbling with the weight, desperation in his voice. “I said stay away from her!”
Black spots swimming in Ana’s eyes. Blood on her tongue.
“N-no …”
“Come here, little brother,” the lifelike said. “I’ve a gift for you.”
The last thing Ana saw before the black took her was Faith’s hand.
Reaching out for Cricket’s throat.
They’d just let her walk away. Helpless. Mute. Lemon felt like there was nothing she could say that her bestest would believe. Nothing she could do, short of wrestling her to the ground. And so, she’d slumped to her knees in the dust. Tears drying on her cheeks, nothing left inside to cry out. Watching Riotgrrl’s Titan stomp away, growing smaller and smaller still, finally disappearing beyond the walls of Babel.
She’d been an idiot.
Because she’d been afraid.
Because it’d been easier.
Because beneath the bravado and the bluster, she was just a kid. And this world ate up kids like her. Chewing them up and spitting out the bones.
Deviate.
Trashbreed.
Abnorm.
She’d kept it secret since she was a sprog. It was just safer that way. Life on the streets of Los Diablos was hard enough without worrying about getting nailed to a Brotherhood cross. But she’d gotten so used to lying to everyone about it, she’d let that poison spill over onto her best friend in the world.
She’d tried to tell her, but …
No. That’s crap, Lemon Fresh. Admit it.
You were afraid.
Afraid of what she’d think of you.
Afraid of losing the only real thing you ever had.
And now she’d lost it anyway… .
She scoped the wreckage. The Preacher’s broken, legless body. The ruined machina, the dead pilots. The metal shrapnel scattered across the highway—all that remained of another one of her friends.
Poor Kaiser …
She sniffed hard. Tears threatening a second visit as she thought of the blitzhund running about Hope’s orphanage, playing with the sprogs. Even with his explosives removed, the dog had still chosen to lay down his life protecting them. And Lemon hadn’t even mustered the loyalty to tell the truth… .
She looked at Ezekiel, prettyboy eyes still locked on that hollowed city. Watching the only thing he cared about vanish into the haze right in front of him.