Chapter Four
***
ACYCLE HAD GONE BYsince he arrived but he had made progress.
Gunner bolstered his signal, letting his body slump into a restful stage, and checked the digital cracks throughout the ship’s security. He found gaps big enough for him to tear apart the code and patch it back up with corrupted ones in his wake. He didn’t want to leave a trail.
What he needed was APOLLO.
His fingers jerked on his thigh. Every minute that passed, his control over the ship’s systems strengthened, but keeping his progress on track was proving difficult. Pretending to be human, especially one that had everyone’s attention, was a nuisance. His other, temporary brig-mates had conversations and intrigues that enticed him back every time he left his body.
But Ely proved to be the worst. If Ely sighed too deeply, Gunner left the ship’s systems and came back to investigate. If Ely shifted positions, Gunner tracked his progress.
The verdict was still out on whether Ely was a man or not.
His nostrils flared as he sucked in a full breath but it hinted at no signs that proved whether Ely was male or female. All it proved was that everyone, on all sides, was dirty. He had a strong sense of smell, one of the strongest for a Cyborg, and even that sense was less reliable amongst the grime.
It smelled like shit and he was equally disgusted and at home in it.
I’ve been in here for eighteen hours and eighteen minutes.
Eighteen hours and eighteen minutes was enough for his ship to be on the other side of the galaxy. It was enough time to make it halfway to the nearest wormhole. Gunner couldn’t account for the time he’d spent rebooting but based on previous reboots, he had been down for less than an hour.
Someone coughed and he jerked fully back into himself.
Gunner looked around with a sneer and found the guy on the opposite side of him staring. He sniffed again out of habit and was flooded with the detritus that only reminded him he wasn’t where he was supposed to be: with his girls and APOLLO and on his ship with his acquisitions. Even his clothes were beginning to betray his smell.
Gunner stood.
Everyone stopped to watch.
He searched his cell and made a show of testing out the bars, careful not to bend and break them as he did so.
“No way out, man,” the man on his right said. The one who’d tugged his jacket.
Gunner shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to try. What’s your name?”
“Royce, you?”
“Gunner,” he murmured and settled his eyes on Ely.Who refuses to acknowledge my existence.He appeared to be asleep but Gunner knew better. He knew he was listening.Listening to everything. Like me.
Gunner’s eyes moved to Kallan, one cell beyond, who murderously glared at him. The man had given up on dealing for his jacket several hours ago.
“Is your name for the tattoos on your cheeks or the other way around?” Royce asked.
