Heart of Steel (20 page)

Mechanus wasn’t sure what Jim had in mind, but clearly it was nothing good.

Now that Mechanus had Arthur back, it had been simplicity itself to start regaining control of the various systems that Jim had hijacked. He moved carefully, though, to avoid drawing too much attention to his activities—for all Jim knew, Mechanus was still crippled. He would have to make sure Jim kept thinking that until the net closed, or else Julia could be in some serious danger.

For the time being, Julia appeared to be largely uninjured, but the blood left at the abduction site and the developing bruise on the side of her face told him that Jim didn’t care about being gentle with her. Then

there was the way he was carrying her—slung over one shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. Did Jim ever care about her as anything other than a social ornament for his arm or, heaven forbid, a verbal punching bag?

He heard a metallic creak by his left hand and glanced down to find his metal hand gripping the metal safety rail hard enough to bend the latter several degrees. He gingerly dislodged his fingertips from the dents they’d left. Yes, he was pissed, but he would have to be calmly pissed in order to make this work. Even if Julia was not the woman he’d loved ten years ago—and who he still loved in a way, even after the revelation of her death—Mechanus still considered himself responsible for her safety. After all, she was his guest, and she had shown him kindness in his time of need.

And, he had concluded, he loved Julia—not the light-headed giddiness of infatuation that he had experienced upon first seeing her, but true affection. She’d done so much to unlock his disused humanity, and he would do anything to repay her for this. He would defend her to the death against the mistake he’d created out of Jim, and even—most surprisingly to him—offer her transport back to the United States if that was what she truly wanted.

And if Jim ever hurt her, Mechanus was prepared to break his fucking neck.

So it was that Mechanus had spent the last hour and a half closing in on their position and, with the careful precision of a spider checking its web, taking back control of the surveillance and security systems, closing in on them with what he hoped was enough subtlety to keep her safe. Keeping part of his attention on these processes, he approached a metal blast door

that opened obediently for him with a soft hiss. The orange glow was not as intense here, but the heat at the top of the geothermal processing plant was stif-ling. He stepped out on the catwalk, marking Jim’s position with his precious cargo through the latest of the reclaimed security cameras.

Presently she caught the change and glanced up at the camera in question. The bruises on her face were even more evident now, and he saw the streaks of tearstains on her cheeks, but he forced himself to remain cold and logical. She seemed to focus on the camera, an analytic expression on her face as she worked something out, and then she smiled. It was really quite a beautiful smile, and even considering the bruises and swelling it made her face light up like a sunrise. Mechanus took a deep breath.

Yes,
he thought,
I’m here. I’m coming for you.

“Jim,” he heard her say, “I think you’re about to have a really bad day.”

“Let him come,” Jim replied.

Mechanus knew a dramatic cue when he heard one.

With a thought, he closed all the doors to the geothermal processing plant. The BOOM of metal against metal was deafening. Jim glanced around warily, and Mechanus was satisfied to feel a transmission of fear from the other man, this brute who had dared to hurt Julia.

“You called?” Mechanus asked through all the plant’s speakers at once.

“Show yourself!” Jim demanded, pulling Julia off his shoulder and holding her up by the back of her shirt. His pincer, damaged from its impact with the wall earlier, could no longer spin in that drill of death, but two of the digits still flexed as he held it close to

her throat. It was a clear message: play by my rules, or something bad happens to her.

Mechanus instructed. As the dire wolves leapt to follow his command, Mechanus navigated the maze of catwalks, positioning himself carefully. He was about a hundred feet above where Jim held Julia hostage, but it was unlikely that Jim would start anything serious until Mechanus got there. After all, he wanted Mechanus to watch him kill Julia.

Well,
that
wasn’t going to happen on Mechanus’s watch.

“Patience, Jim,” Mechanus said through the speakers. “We both know you don’t want to do anything prematurely.”

“You’re hardly in a position to make demands, asshole,” Jim retorted.

Mechanus could not suppress a grin that was nearly a snarl.

He tracked the coordinated paths of the wolf packs as they navigated their way down to the plant, their claws clicking against the metal floors as they went. Within minutes the first of them had reached one of the doors leading in. Mechanus opened it for them, and the pack of giant wolves surged in, howling a challenge.

After that, several things happened in rapid succession. Jim turned in the direction of the howling, reflexively pulling the utility pincer away from Julia’s throat. Julia took advantage of his distraction to slip out of her shirt entirely, running off in her bra to lose herself amid the heavy machinery, ducking and dodging and stepping gingerly on the hot floor. Mechanus let in a wolf pack at the other side of the room, and they encircled a very surprised-looking

Julia with their huge, furry bulk. Another pack streamed in and charged at Jim, forcing his attention away from her.

He swiped at the nearest ones with his utility claw, knocking one of the smaller ones aside. It hit a tank with a yelp and the crunch of breaking bones, and lay still. The others circled just outside his reach, occasionally darting in to snap at him to keep his attention as far away from Julia as possible.

Mechanus positioned himself on a walkway above the circling dire wolves. He glanced at the fallen wolf, zooming in and scanning it.

Arthur informed him.

Mechanus gritted his teeth. he said.

Five of the battle-drones moved to a position above the wolf, ready to blast anything that wished him harm.

He marked Julia’s position—safely away from the impending fray. She was surrounded by the other pack of dire wolves, who would act as a barrier should things spill in that direction. At the very least they would keep her safe from Jim.

His priority targets thus secured, Mechanus measured the distance to the level below. One hundred feet. Had he been fully human the fall might break both his legs. He smiled grimly. It was time to end this.

He vaulted over the safety rail.

Mechanus landed in a three-point crouch in front of Jim; the impact strained the shock-absorbers in his legs, buckled the metal floor slightly, and rattled his teeth together. Fortunately, Arthur’s balance-correc-

tion assistance kept him on his feet, and he straightened up before his foe, staring him down.

“Asshole,” Jim said, his voice emerging from a speaker in tones close to those of a polite, if chilly, greeting.

“Deranged cur,” Mechanus responded, likewise. “I’m afraid I’ve made a dire mistake with you, Jim—one that I intend to rectify very shortly.”
              “What mistake is that?” Jim demanded.

“Two, actually.” Mechanus began circling Jim, who turned to keep him within view. Two pairs of metal feet clanged against the metal floor. “One of them was underestimating your willpower. I admit I’m a bit out of practice in dealing with other human minds, but your determination to break free was quite unexpected. You caught me by surprise. This will not happen again. The other, of course, was in resurrecting you in the first place. You were intended as a gift for Julia, not as the source of her terror—and I intend to rectify this mistake. I know all about the nature of obsession and mental fixation, but
really,
Jim—enough is quite enough. If you can’t come to terms with the changing social dynamic, I’m afraid I’ll have to put you down.”

What remained of Jim’s face contorted into a snarl like that of a rabid dog, and he started to advance on Mechanus—away from Julia, Mechanus noted with satisfaction.

Mechanus watched the entire unfolding scene from every angle at once, through countless surveillance cameras and drones surrounding the two of them—and also watched Jim’s neural signals for flickers of intent.

Jim lunged for him, swinging his utility claw like a club. Mechanus twisted and blocked the blow with

his own metal arm, the impact sending a shockwave up the titanium carapace even as he deflected it up and past him. In return, Mechanus swung at Jim’s face with his metal fist. Jim was ready this time, though, and dodged backwards, out of reach.

“Forget it, asshole,” Jim said through the speakers. “You made me too well. Whatever you did to revive me is going to make me nearly impossible to kill. You said as much to Julia. And you lost your control over me. I don’t have to follow your commands like everything else here.”

He swung the utility claw again, aiming for the unarmored side of Mechanus’s head. Mechanus dodged aside, feeling the wind of the claw’s passage.

“That may be true,” Mechanus said, “But you forget whose lair this is.
And
you forget what I can do.”

“You can get your ass kicked,” Jim retorted, and aimed a vicious kick between Mechanus’s legs.

There was a loud
clang
of metal against metal. Mechanus was jolted briefly off his feet, staggering back, but the crippling burst of masculine pain he’d half-expected did not come. For the first time in recent memory, Mechanus fully appreciated the advantage of not having external genitals.

Jim froze, momentarily startled by the lack of effect his unsportsmanlike low blow had on Mechanus. In response, Mechanus casually popped his neck.

“Did that make you feel better?” he asked.

In response, Jim assaulted Mechanus mentally through the network connection. Mechanus rocked back on his heels.

Arthur chided, and returned fire. Jim howled in agony, clutching at his head.

Mechanus informed him through

the haze of distortion that now fogged Jim’s mind.

Jim demanded, defiant to the last.

In response, Mechanus closed his eyes and mentally reached out in several directions at once. First, he seized Jim’s mind in a vice-like grip, paralyzing him where he stood as completely as if he’d been turned to stone. Second, he cut off Jim’s access to the speakers; there was no need for Julia to hear what would come next. Third, he summoned every battle drone in the area—all three hundred fifty of them—to a swarm behind him.

Mechanus said simply. He tapped into the speakers then. “Julia, don’t look.”

He flung his arms out to the sides—unnecessary, he conceded, but theatrical all the same—and gave a mental command. The battle drones converged on Jim like Japanese honeybees and started to methodically disassemble him. Mechanus did not watch the process, but was assailed by Jim’s frantic, panic-laced transmissions through their mutual link to the network, ranging from threats to bargaining to frantic screaming. Flashes of inner thoughts, memories, and mental images flooded across Mechanus’s mind as Jim tried to find something—
anything
—he could do to save himself.

The barrage continued for a few minutes, though to Mechanus’s perceptions it felt a lot longer. Jim was not dead, however, when Mechanus gave the com-

mand to cease. The robots withdrew, hovering a short distance above Jim’s paralyzed remains. All that remained of him was a dismembered, blood-spattered torso; all his cybernetic limbs had been removed and reclaimed, and the arm he’d had left was taken as well. All his amputated stumps had been diligently cauterized, but he wasn’t going to be going anywhere. Jim’s mind was a shattered mess, but he still responded to Mechanus’s light query.

The response was immediate; no words came, but rather a memory, subconsciously summoned by the question.

Mechanus said as soon as he recognized the context.

Jim stands outside the hospital, in low conversation with an agitated, unshaven man who wears a sickly stench like a jacket. He needs his next hit, and doesn’t much care where it comes from. He’s perfect.

I know where you can get some, but you have to do exactly what I say,
Jim says,
I know who can get you what you need, okay?

The addict is only too happy to agree, and Jim leads him into the hospital by one of the side entrances he used before to meet with Julia, back before she started cooling off towards him. He isn’t about to lose her—he isn’t the sort of guy that women break up with, after all—and he’s going to make sure