Vagabond Souls: The Ionia Chronicles: Book 2 Page 3

  Images flashed in quick succession. The severely bent bumper, a cobbled road, and Den beneath her—an android landing pad.

  Den lay unmoving, his eyes still closed. He looked whole except for some scrapes along his forearm and face. But he showed no signs of life.

  “Den. Den!” Not again. She couldn’t lose him again. Grief bubbled up, a familiar black tide rising in her. She dug her nails into his chest and held her breath.

  “Den.”

  Den opened his eyes, and his dilated pupils narrowed. “Are you well?”

  “Am I well?” She let herself give a shaky laugh. “You could get trampled by a herd of elephants and still ask if I was okay before you even thought about yourself.”

  “I have a steel reinforced skeleton. I determined I could sustain the damage,” he said.

  She examined the metro car that would have squished her like a ruined date. A deep Den-shaped bend creased the front. She let her head fall to Den’s shoulder and released a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “Ensuring your safety and happiness are my primary concerns,” he said it matter-of-factly and put an arm around her as she let the events catch up to her brain.

  The enforcement’s whining siren blared over the speaker, and the crowd separated, partially dissolving.

  Two constables, a male and a female, both in all white short suits arrived—very structured, neat, and unhurried—until they saw the state of the hover.

  “Medical possibly needed at the ND Airport.” The passengers had remained in the vehicle, still in some state of shock.

  The constables approached. Ionia and Den sat awkwardly on the street, her half laying on him.

  The outside heat wrapped her like a soggy blanket, and her head buzzed from the impact of hitting the ground. The constables walked over, splitting up to check on both groups.

  The female leaned in to speak to the wide-eyed boys in the vehicle. “Why weren’t you connected to the grid? Show me your identification.” Their faces held the terror only boys who had been caught doing something mega bad could muster, and one made a mad dash from the hover into the crowd.

  His friend yelled after him from the transport and shook his head from side-to-side. The female officer gave chase, and soon she dragged the fugitive back, head bowed and panting, resisting the entire way.

  The male came over to Den and Ionia. “We’ve dispatched medical. They should be here soon.”

  “I think we’re fine, officer,” Ionia said.

  He glanced at Den’s mark then dismissed him completely.

  “We still need to use a med scanner to verify you are well,” he said.

  She snorted but allowed him to run the scanner over her. His small eyes narrowed, and his forehead furrowed. “I’m having a difficult time getting a full work up.” He tapped the side of the machine and tried to scan again.

  “Fleshie!” A small elderly man yelled and pointed at Den’s mark.

  Den looked at the man not with scorn but with confusion—eyes wide, slight frown line down the center of his forehead.

  It was bad enough he was a marked, but to have people pointing and shouting? No. “Officer, why are you allowing that man to bother my friend?”

  The male officer faced Ionia. “He’s seventy-five percent machine, twenty-five percent organic. External only. He’s your friend?” His face twisted as if he’d caught a whiff of something fetid. “He’s your fleshie.”

  “Those boys nearly killed me,” Ionia said. “Why are you giving us a hard time?What does it matter if he’s a droid?”

  The officer ignored her as if she were speaking to the air and pulled out a set of electronic cuffs. Den sprang up, careful not to jostle her, but his face changed from simply curious to berserker.

  Ionia scrambled to her feet. “Den. Just wait. We can talk this out. We don’t want any trouble.”

  She stepped between the two, and the small man looked up at her. “I don’t know what rules you have about droids, but we’re just here to visit family, and he’s already marked.” She didn’t want to get into a droids rights discussion, too many people were already staring at them. She wanted this done and to move on.

  “You have a visitor’s pass?” The officer’s gaze never shifted from Den, who returned it with an intensity that made Ionia’s guts squeeze. Trouble followed her around like a bloodhound on the scent of a fox.

  “Yes.” She held up her palm for him to scan.

  “Just give me a moment to run this.” He turned to speak quietly into the coms unit in his wrist.

  The sun beat down like an unblinking eye, and the onlookers seemed to lose interest and continued on their journeys. She felt wobbly, sore, and oh so hot. The coat had to come off. She worked to shrug it off, and as if on cue, her mom appeared at her side and pulled it back up onto her shoulders.

  “Ionia. I told you to keep the coat on until we reach Serafina’s. What is going on?” She scanned the scene. Constables. Dented metro car. Den. And shook her head. “It didn’t take you five minutes to cause trouble.”

  Her mother’s tone sent tiny daggers into her heart. They had been getting along so well, and for her to assume just brought back all the old anger.

  “Yeah, Mom. I threw myself in front of a car just so Den would have to freaking save me. Then I asked this constable to give us a hard time.” Her heart slammed like an angry drumline against her ribs. Sweat ran down her neck and trickled into her shirt underneath

  “I’m...” Her mom’s face contorted as if she were passing a kidney stone. “Sorry, I assumed.”

  Her mom turned to the officer who was still in hushed conversation this time with his partner. They were roughly the same height, but her mom always appeared bigger. And this guy would realize that in three, two—

  “What kind of law enforcement questions a child who has just been in a traumatic accident? Did you even ask if she had family or friends nearby? Did you?”

  The constable shrank before her snow dozer of a mom. There were moments like these that Ionia really admired her mom, feared her, but admired her. That woman had the backbone of a Siberian tiger and the attitude of a pit viper. No one cowed her—ever.

  “Calm down.” The constable patted the air soothingly.

  “You do not tell me to calm down. I am Doctor Anabel Sonberg. Explain why you are detaining my daughter and her companion.”

  He shut his eyes as if preparing for a strong impact.

  “Any crime involving a marked fleshie—I mean companion droid—must be investigated immediately.”

  Her mom quirked her head and looked down her nose, scrutinizing the nervous man.

  The look and pause unnerved him more. Ionia understood that sensation. The feeling desire to melt into the pavement was strong when Anabel Sonberg was on the warpath.

  Sirens from the hovering helo-med flooded the plaza. They were dressed in white like the constables and rushed to Ionia and Den. Two female medics, scans in hand, swooped down on them. One grabbed Ionia the other Den. The moment she found his mark and determined he was less than human, the medic withdrew and began to scan the boy who milled by the crunched metro.

  Den stood quietly watching, his eyes darted around, mostly resting on Ionia. She smiled and nodded to keep him at bay. At times, Den was like an unruly guard dog, loyal but vicious if he thought she was in danger.

  This whole thing pissed her off. What kinda crap law did they have about droids, and why would it apply to a visitor like Den. It wasn’t right. He was just protecting her. He had saved her life. Just like before. Ice ran through her as she remembered Feinstein, and she had to force her breathing to go back to normal.

  The medscaner rattled and buzzed.

  The woman’s face contorted, and she ran the scan again. “Can you remove your jacket?”

  Her mother stepped up and gripped the end of the scanner in her hand. “There will be no more scanning. No more argument. No more confusion. I am going to address this.” She pressed her forefinger to her thumb, an
d the addy appeared in bright lettering. “Transfer address to enforcement. If you have further questions direct them there.”

  “But the girl may have injuries.” The woman was middle-aged and tough-looking like Ionia’s mom but with a bit more fray around the edges and a deeper tone of sand colored skin.

  “I don’t.” Ionia was hot, bothered, and starving but uninjured and tired of all the weird looks from the crowd. Most had dispersed, but they were still getting way too many over the shoulder glances, too many narrowed eyes, and sullen faces.

  “I am a doctor, and we have our own personal physicians. Thank you for your concern.”

  “Sign below to release our responsibility.” The woman offered a sig pad. Her mother depressed her finger, and they retreated to their ambulance. That left the enforcement officers milling around.

  “The droid must be taken in for questioning. It’s in the code,” the constable said.

  Her mom took a step forward, and the man backed away. “DL the code to me.”

  With a sigh, the female officer joined him.

  Her mom scanned the code. “I don’t believe this gives you the right to confiscate my property,” she said.

  “It does. Now the question becomes, do we need back up?” The woman seemed to have more authority, more strength, and faced Ionia’s mom with shoulder’s back and chin high.

  Mountain meet immovable object.

  “Wait. No. He just saved my life.” The situation spiraled into a toilet of awful. They couldn’t take Den. She needed him. The vice around Ionia’s chest screwed tighter.

  Den responded immediately and straightened. “Ionia is in need of my protection and comfort. I do not wish to be separated.” His expression had the dangerous gleam it always did right before he went all Kung-Fu ninja. Part of Ionia wanted him to—to just scatter these losers and let them be on their way. But she knew that would never work.

  This wasn’t Mac Town or SPS. This was civilization. There was a standing police force that patrolled. Everything was on the grid and under constant scrutiny. If Den went into hyper-protection mode, there would be consequences.

  “Ionia.” Her mother nudged her forward.

  Ionia placed herself between the constables and Den and looked deeply into his iridescent blue eyes. Those eyes were so very easy to get lost in, like an endless sea meeting a distant horizon. She wished they were out on some boat with nothing but the horizon and the waves. They could be happy together. But they were in this hostile territory, and for now, they were stuck dealing with the stupid enforcement officers.

  “Go with these constables. They just have some questions for you. I have my mom and family to look after me, and we’ll follow right behind.” She tried to force the strain from her voice, tried to take a deep breath, but a vice held her chest tight.

  “You understand I can sense your physical distress?” His eyebrows did a half quirk thing that he’d just picked up from an old vidclip. Basically, he knew she was a big, fat liar, and that made her heart contract. She was betraying him. Again. But he would get hurt if he resisted.

  “Yes, I am in distress, but listen to my words. Don’t read my mind.”

  “I cannot read your mind. I can merely ascertain your true emotions from your physical re—”

  “I know.” She clasped his hands into hers and squeezed. His were larger than hers, scraped, but warm and gentle as he adjusted the hold, so his hands wrapped hers in a shield. Protecting her as usual. Pain jabbed her chest, but what else could they do? The enforcement wouldn’t do anything to him. Not with her mom and aunt on their case. They just had to follow the stupid rules.

  “Go with them,” she said. “For me. I promise you. I’ll be fine.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something. He strained forward, and his mouth opened slightly, or she could have imagined it. His lips clasped back together, and he nodded.

  The constables had been waiting and snapped their electro cuffs roughly on his wrists.

  She’d seen them in clips and had a DL about them a long time ago. The newest in restraining tech. They didn’t cause any discomfort unless the prisoner struggled. And Den shouldn’t struggle. Not unless someone tried to hurt her. Who would try to hurt her here?

  But watching Den being shoved into the back of their hover felt very scary and very final. An image of the officers peeling Den’s flesh flashed through her mind, and she took a deep breath.

  Ionia faced her mom. “We have to follow him.”

  “No, we don’t.” Her mom watched the retreating cruiser with a blank face.

  “Like hell, we don’t. You told me we would get him back.”

  “In due time, Ionia. We’ll get your uncle, and he can sort it out. Really, I’m exhausted and hungry—”

  Ionia turned away from her mom and ran after the back of the vehicle, pushing through the throng. A sadly familiar panic clawed at her heart and squeezed her lungs. She wasn’t going to let Den just disappear. The gods only knew what those constables had in mind for her sweet companion.

  ***

  The hover vehicle flew above the crowd at a speed of 150 kmph. And the rear area was sealed with reinforced steel to keep the prisoners contained. The measure would work with most human detainees, but he was not human.

  It would take thirty psi and ten seconds to break from the e-cuff, another seventy-five psi to unhinge the door. Fifty seconds to decommission the constables. He could be back with Ionia and her family in less than five minutes.

  But Ionia had wanted him to go, and he had agreed. He stilled his processor, for now, but the longer his incarceration lasted, the harder his defense protocols burned. His hands twitched in their restraints. He searched the Cortex to research what these officers might have in mind for him.

  Many reports out of Southeast Asia were shielded and homogenized for world use, but Den was bypassing the news channels and going for ground level information.

  What he found, he did not approve of. Local news reports detailing mass decommissioning of any humanoid android, intense restrictions for those who remained. He had been extremely fortunate to merely have been marked. He wanted to be away from this hover, free of these impediments, and back with Ionia.

  “I am a free droid and would like to be released now.” In most civilized provinces, a freed droid would have the same rights as any human, but he had gathered that this location would not honor international amnesty law.

  The constables kept their eyes forward as if their ears had malfunctioning audio receptors.

  “I can tell from your increased perspiration and slight tightening around the jaw area that you can hear me,” Den said.

  “It’s creepy. I hate the ones with flesh.” The male constable in the passenger seat spoke, obviously addressing his partner.

  “Don’t acknowledge it.” The sides of the driver’s mouth pulled down hard, eyes fixed forward, sweat level increased.

  “I plan to lodge a complaint upon our arrival. I should not be detained.”

  Both of the front seat occupants swiveled to glare at him, and the car veered sharply.

  “Constable.” Den kept his tone in the polite society range. “You’re going to collide with oncoming traffic.”

  She snapped back to driving and avoided the large hover bus that monopolized their direct path. “Shut up, or else we’re going to crash.”

  “I’d be happy to take over navigation.” He knew his voice held a certain amount of sarcasm but allowed himself the indulgence.

  “What will it take to shut you up?” The male pulled out his electronic suppressor. It worked much like a live animal prod. He lifted it toward Den’s head.

  Den normally would conform and acquiesce to the officer’s request, but this was beyond his normal parameters.

  Ionia had told him to go with them not to be beaten by them.

  He yanked through the ecuff, singeing the skin on his wrists. In a millisecond, he grabbed the man’s stick and twisted it from his hand.

  T
he whole occurrence was over in less than two seconds. He had underestimated his ability to react when threatened. The constable looked at him, his mouth hanging open. The man’s heart rate shifted to over 162 beats a minute and slid into panic level for his stature.

  The driver gripped the wheel tight, and her eyes narrowed. She reached for a button on the dashboard. Den didn’t want to overreact. He wasn’t positive it was a threatening motion. He decided to attempt to defuse the situation.

  “I was attempting to defend myself. I do not wish hostilities.”

  A jolt of high voltage power sizzled in his body and locked his joints. Cool sprinkles of sensation flowed through his chassis and deadened his nervous system. Frozen and at their mercy, he was still aware but could not move. He was effectively useless.

  This was similar to something he’d experienced before. Some scrambled bit of downloaded memory from Antarctica in the ice cave flashed in his mind and served to kick his self-defense protocols to maximum.

  His logic circuit whirled and listed the number of ways he could maim the driver when feeling returned to his body. If it ever returned. His emotional chip threaded fear, tension, and anger into him, which made him desire to squeeze his hands into fists. Dead, unresponsive hands.

  Enough of his logic circuits combined in his cyber brain and burst through his emotional reactions, working to calm him. The force merely locked his systems temporarily. His feeling would return, and he would exact justice.

  Two parts of him warred, which was not uncommon since Ionia had released him. The part that desired nothing more than to obey and the other part. A bit of programming that didn’t necessarily follow logic. The part that said he didn’t have to listen to them anymore. He could go anywhere. Do anything.

  The part that enjoyed being free.

  But then his worry loop started, and he suppressed the feelings.

  The hover vehicle pulled into the station, a low building built from course unrefined materials like concrete and brick.

  The male exited the car, opened his door, and yanked Den from the rear face first like a piece of luggage. His programmed reflexes fought to catch him, but his limbs remained unresponsive. The polyplastic turf scraped his cheek and cut the skin under his eye. A small painful cut dug into his flesh. Another debt he owed to these poor excuses for law enforcement.