The Ballad of Ash and Hum

3. Keep Going

Bhari knows something's going on in the Alliance. She's not enhanced, so she can't port in and investigate. Still, there's a new edge to Crippen's orders, the way his eyes slide around like hardboiled eggs in a bowl. Without enhancement she's had to rely on her own skills of observation as well as the way she melts into the background. Things tend to happen when she's tucked behind a malfunctioning mainframe with her hands in its guts. Bhari's good at working on wires, silent as a cucaracha, while the uppity-ups argue about disappearing rations and the oncoming blackouts.

Her unease hasn't led her to action. She's used to being a mouse, to observing instead of doing. Ash, for example – she watches his long limbs and slender feet, the muscles sliding under silky skin.

She doesn't want to touch. Part of her is broken, she's convinced of it, and she hopes to avoid a future sexbond. The idea simply has no meaning for her.

It's much more satisfactory to be on a job, to figure out the schematics as well as several solutions before deciding on the simplest and best one. The job before her now lies back in an old dental chair, strapped down at wrists, knees, and ankles. Hum's neck is free, since Crippen has plans for the kid and he wants Bhari to carry them out.

"Anything?" Crippen spits.

"Still asleep. Those neural charges are strong." Bhari speaks absentmindedly, her fingers probing Hum's enhancement. It's a complicated braid of wires and scars covering his tat and the top of his spine. She strokes the motherboard, a 2x2 flat box providing enough power to drive a quadruple charge to Hum's neurons.

The brain runs on approximately 12 volts. It's not enough to notice everything at once, explaining persistence of vision and successful optical illusions.

Hum's network, however, has 48 volts. His brain is a self-sustaining system with race-pattern power, so idle thoughts constantly recharge his 'batteries,' if you can call them that. Bhari secretly strokes the wires again – she's never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Not even Ash is so wonderfully designed.

"Get the box out of his system now." Somehow Crippen has edged right up behind her to speak right into her ear. "Unhook him or I'll take it off with the butt of my rifle."

Bhari gazes up at him from her crouching position next to Ash. "Why?" It's the first time she's ever questioned a direct order.

"What did you ask me?"

"This is a beautiful job." Bhari indicates the delicate platinum bands laced with gold in places. "Why destroy it?"

Crippen's face floods with sudden red, a maddened bull of a man. Bhari recalls his son once ran away from him right into the spinning blades of the VitD station. "Because he didn't listen!" he shouts. "He didn't listen!" He swallows, breathes heavily. "Just get those wires out of him or I'll do it myself."

"Okay." It would be kinder in the long run to disconnect Hum gently – the sudden shock of disconnect could kill the kid.

She elevates Hum's head, searches for the place to start. There should be a knot of connectors right below the hypothalamus. It'll suck when she makes the first moves, but she can move slowly, take Hum down to her mental level in several stages.

Her tiny pliers and screwdrivers as well as her omnitool are spread out on the attached tray. Bhari selects the first instruments and gets to work, unspooling tight controllers and headers from the silver slots drilled into Hum's head.

He doesn't wake until she's on the fifth connection. Hum wakes with a howl, eyes flying open and spittle on his chin. "What!" he shouts. "What are you doing to me?"