results are in there as well. Doctor Anderson gave the chip to me this morning, it can't be copied. I have all her things in storage for you. You can look at them before you leave if you like. They'll be here when you get back if you don't take the time.”
' Ayan's records' was what she said. Not 'her records,' not 'what she did after the scan was taken.' “I'll never be your daughter. Not your real daughter, will I?”
Her mother's eyes went wide. “Of course you are,” she whispered with urgency.
“No, I'll be the replacement, maybe the second generation, but I'll never be as real to you. Even if I were, what's to say you'd be around this time? You weren't around for me when I needed you last time, so why now?”
“I made mistakes before and I'm sorry. We have a second chance now and I can do better. I just need time.”
Ayan looked at her, she was desperate, near tears, but it was too late. As much as it hurt to leave her like that, it was time for her to find her way back to a life she enjoyed living, to engage in another challenge. She closed the distance between them and embraced her mother again. “I love you Mom,” she whispered. Despite the frustration, anger and resentment she felt towards the woman, she was absolutely sincere.
Silence was the first response, but as her mother put her arms around her she whispered; “I love you too.”
She drew back slowly and looked up. “I have to go, but I'll be back.”
Her mother took her face in both of her hands, something she hadn't done since Ayan was a little girl and looked her right in the eyes. Ayan hadn't seen Jessica Rice so much as tear up for ages, but there were tears rolling down her cheeks as she locked her gaze with her mother. “Be careful. I promise I'll do everything I can to pave the way for the Triton's return here if that's what it takes to have you home. You're my daughter, I'll do everything I can to help you have a good life. I am so proud of you, no matter where your life takes you.”
“Thank you,” Ayan whispered, blinking away tears of her own.
They embraced again for a long moment, taking comfort in her mother's tight embrace.
Lucius Wheeler The Second
The chill of High Valley combined with falling snow and rising humidity would have been picturesque if Lucius was better dressed, but in his weathered miner's jumpsuit it was downright freezing. Planetary shuttles weren't always maintained as well as space vessels, and that couldn't have been more evident to Lucius as he piloted the small four person air car and bashed the heater in the dash with his fist. It ground for several seconds, sputtered and clicked loudly before it came on to offer a brief burst of hot air before stopping altogether. The thick chill was nipping at his ears, his bald head and rough, calloused fingers. If there was anything he hated it was the cold.
“Next time I'll just steal a proper hopper,” he grumbled as he jerked the stiff throttle lever. Wheeler could plainly see his breath in front of him, the windscreen was starting to fog up again and the right turbine was making an ominous rattling sound as he cleared a line of tall evergreen trees standing out from a low ridge.
Several roughly built sheet steel buildings came into view and he grinned. The entire valley basin was filled with old hulls from small ships, mounds covered with tarpaulins, and hastily built shacks with severely sloped steel roofs. Makeshift hangars for small and medium sized craft, he assumed. There was a larger spot in front of a more permanent looking structure that had been cleared as a landing space.
Without much consideration for the air car's landing gear he descended, touching down hard enough for him to bounce in his seat. As Lucius disembarked a fellow with rheumy, awkwardly bent fingers came out of the large barn. His winter coat and thick clothing looked like it had gone unwashed for decades, his white and grey hair was roughly tied back in a ponytail and his beard was bound up by a small band. “You're Wheeler?” he asked with a thick Asian accent. He must have grown up on an inner or upper core world, Wheeler supposed.
He nodded and closed up his thin insulated jacket. Lucius constantly found himself missing his vacsuit. “Osamu?” he asked.
“Yes. When Gomez told me what you wanted I could not believe.”
“Do you have the mass conversion unit?”
“It is in here,” Osamu said as he turned away. “I have brought some chairs so you may choose where you sit, and I brought what medical supplies I have.”
“I won't need them, don't worry.”
The large barn was host to an old disarmed fighter, a small lifter ship and an interplanetary sports vessel that had seen better days. Right in front of it all was a large device with a wide, rectangular aperture at the front. It was old, but looked like just what Wheeler needed, a mass recycler with a quick burn rate, made to convert heavy materials into energy in the space of milliseconds. There were several chairs of different heights lined up in front of it. “This thing can burn through fifty kilos of hardened metal in less than half a second?” Wheeler asked.
“Yes, it works very quickly,” the other fellow replied reassuringly as he made sure the thick power cables were connected securely to the rear. “You pay me first.”
Lucius pulled a soft bag from his pocket and tossed it to Osamu. “That's enough for the machine and a small working ship.”
His fingers were in the small bag, clumsily turning it inside out and pinching a small green diamond between his fingers. Carefully he dropped it atop a small, beat up hand scanner and nodded. “You are generous but I don't know if you will be able to fly once you use the machine.”
Wheeler sat in one of the higher chairs and adjusted the height. “As long as this thing works as quickly as you say, I'll have no problem. Got something to test it?”
Osamu nodded and picked up two thick, meter long logs and tossed them into the dark aperture of the mass converter. He retrieved the beaten control box attached to a thick cable and pointed out the activator switch. “Press here once, safety is off. Press here twice, big red button, and everything inside is made into energy.”
He followed directions and cringed at the high screech the machine made as the logs disintegrated into fine splinters and disappeared in less than half a second. It was violent but quick.
Every instinct he had told him to get out of there as fast as he could, to leave the barn, the machine and the valley behind but he knew he didn't have any real choice. The receiver in his head had been deactivated, now he just needed to finish removing whatever Vindyne or Regent Galactic had built into him.
He turned the unit off and shifted in his chair, rolling it forward and locking the wheels. The yawning opening accepted his legs all the way up to the middle of his thighs all too easily. His palms were immediately sweaty despite the cold, there was a knot in his stomach and a fear unlike anything he had ever known raging like an inferno in his brain.
Osamu put his hand on the other man's and fixed him with a look of urgent concern. “I cannot let you do this! It is crazy.”
“I have to do this old man, someone put a dangerous device inside my leg bones, just above the knees.”
“You can't remove?” he made a sawing motion with his hand. “While you're asleep?”
“No, if I try to remove it too slowly it'll go off killing me and everyone nearby. Trust me old timer, if there was any other way…” Wheeler said as he pushed the old man's hand away from the control. “Any other way,” he took a deep breath, turned the safety off, pressed the activation button once, began to exhale shakily and pressed it again.
The pain was no surprise, his whole body convulsed as everything below his mid thigh was shredded and converted into energy. He fell to the floor screaming, his head bashed against the base of the mass converter, its humming filled his senses between cries of pain.
The blood was a surprise, there was so much. I should have tied tourniquets. He found himself thinking as the pain lessened a little. He opened his eyes and saw his framework skeleton performing its magic.
Replacement bones appeared, followed by working, moving muscle, sinew, flesh and finally skin. The whole ordeal only took ten seconds, but it was an experience he'd never forget and never wanted to relive. He laughed and slowly came to his feet, looking at the stunned old man. “Could you throw in some new shoes for the freakshow?”
Osamu turned and quickly shuffled off to one of many old trunks lining a section of the sheet metal wall. A
