All things considered, it occurred to her to wonder if the shortage of females would prove to be a problem for the cyborg community--she assumed it was a community. To her knowledge, not even a third of the rogue cyborgs were female and since they weren’t as strong as their male counterparts, the hunters had decreased that by a goodly number since they’d gone rogue. A fraction of this generation, mostly female, had been reprogrammed as soon as the first ones had gone rogue. As far as she could see that left anywhere from three to five males to every female--assuming they’d managed to gather the remainder together.
It seemed unlikely that they had. She was willing to admit that she’d had a great deal of prejudice where this generation of cyborgs, the CO469, were concerned, mostly because of the company’s propaganda machine. As the blond with the curly hair had pointed out, though, she’d taken her fair share of them down. Taking a cyborg down was no simple task, however. Typically, she spent months tracking and then studying the subject before she devised a plan--only a fool leapt in with guns blazing when they were facing a foe as potentially dangerous as these rogues.
She had seen nothing to make her believe the CO469 were that much different than the generations before or since them. Either this particular phenomenon she’d witnessed since she’d been taken aboard Reuel’s ship was rare even among them, or the ones she’d killed had actually been ‘acting’, or, possibly, whatever it was that made these so very human had had the effect of actually making some of them truly insane.
It was possible, of course, that those she’d tracked had been on some sort of mission for the rebels, but she was more inclined to think they’d been loners and knew nothing about the rebels.
None had ever admitted it, in any case, which certainly seemed to whittle at the numbers the rebels might have put together. If she added to that the difficulties that seemed inevitable given the shortage of females and the all too obvious instincts of the males to try to find a female to breed with, it looked like a recipe for disaster to her.
She supposed, given that the CO469 was particularly partial to attacking the company and had yet to focus on anyone or anything else, provided it didn’t get in their way, she could see the company’s stance where they were concerned. By law, they were responsible for removing potentially hazardous or defective product anyway, but she began to feel that there was more to it than that.
Their fear seemed excessive now that she thought about it. Either they knew they’d crossed the line and created a generation of cyborgs that were as close to human as made almost no difference at all, or there was something about these cyborgs that was potentially far more dangerous than their relatively small number suggested.
The question was what?
And was it possible that it was in any way connected to what had happened to her?
She wouldn’t have thought so except for Reuel’s interest.
If she hadn’t been half starved from lack of food, dehydrated from little water and dead on her feet, she would’ve realized that she’d ‘surprised’ Reuel with amazing ease. Of course, she hadn’t realized until she was upon him that he was a cyborg--she wouldn’t have known it then except that she’d seen his face so many times she would’ve had to be a blithering idiot not to recognize him instantly.
He had not been suffering any of the debilitating effects that she had, however, and his vision and hearing were many times more acute than her own. If he’d been human, as she had supposed, she wouldn’t have questioned whether or not she’d actually managed to sneak up on him. She should have questioned it the moment she’d recognized him, because it was very unlikely that she’d caught Reuel off guard.
He’d been waiting for her.
She should’ve known finding that ‘guide’ had been too goddamned easy!
She didn’t know how much Reuel knew that he wasn’t telling her, but she was about to find out.
Snatching the saber from the scabbard of the man sitting next to her, she leapt upward almost in the same motion, landing on the table, the point of her blade hovering just above where Reuel’s heart would be if he did as she expected and leapt to his feet.
He didn’t disappoint her.
Behind her, she heard the scrapes and crashes that told her the others had leapt up, turning their chairs over as they grabbed their weapons. Silence fell as they froze, just as Reuel had frozen. “It was a set up,” she said through gritted teeth. “You were waiting for me.”
Instead of answering her immediately, Reuel’s gaze flicked to the cyborgs behind her. “Get back. This is between me and her.”
Listening, she heard them shift indecisively. Finally, they moved back a couple of steps. None of them moved far, however, and none left.
It didn’t matter. She was going to die anyway. She rather thought she liked these odds better than the odds she’d be facing if she let them get her all the way to the rebel camp. Five to one might not be much of a chance, but it was better than 500 to one. “What’s the game plan, Reuel?” she demanded, prodding him with the point of the saber.
“I was waiting,” he admitted.
“Why? How?”
“We are plugged into the company’s system. We monitor all of their activities.”
“So you knew they were after me and you knew the sector of the city where they’d lost me. They were out looking for me?” she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the cyborgs behind her.
Her overconfidence cost her. She’d been so certain the threat was behind her, she hadn’t realized that Reuel was only waiting for a fraction of a second’s inattention. The moment she nodded in the direction of the cyborgs at her back, her gaze flickered away from his. He struck the side of the blade in her hands so hard with the palm of his hand that the vibration traveled all the way up her arm in a numbing shockwave. She leapt from the table even as he made a dive for her. Landing on the deck in a half crouch, she pivoted so that she was facing both Reuel and the others.
One of them--the blond that had given her the evil eye from the time they’d boarded--snatched his saber from its scabbard and tossed it to Reuel. Reuel caught it, but it seemed a more reflexive action than intentional. He glanced down at the saber as if undecided whether to keep it or discard it. Dalia made a lunging swing at him while he was distracted.
He parried it, but again she sensed that it was an instinctive action of self-preservation.
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, or figure it out. The only chance she had that she could see would be to take him out. The corner of the room where she’d positioned herself ensured that no more than one or two of them could come at her at once, while still giving her enough room to maneuver.
It wasn’t much of a chance, but it was better than nothing.
