Hijacked by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Thirteen
Arms crossed, Misko stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Branko on the far side of the cold exam room. The temperature was uncomfortably low, and the infection control lights mounted in the ceiling flashed every few minutes to sterilize and kill any bacteria or viruses present. Two doctors worked on Andro’s wounds, flushing and suturing what hadn’t been knitted back together via his faulty nanobots.
“I think we should do a full system restart,” Sara announced as she entered the exam room with a large data tablet in her hands.
“I don’t think so,” Branko barked. “That seems extreme.”
“Not a reset,” she clarified quickly. “We aren’t going to wipe his memory or anything ridiculous like that.”
“Why isn’t his processor working? Why aren’t his nanobots responding?” Misko needed to know the details so he could make the right decision about his brother’s medical care.
“If I had to guess,” Sara dragged her stylus across the screen of her tablet, “the dumb fucks in charge of decommissioning you after your arrest used cheap software bloated with garbage. I noticed there were some strange glitches in your compatriots when we ran diagnostics. If your brother had a glitch in one of his essential systems, that electrocution he suffered would have caused a catastrophic failure.”
“But if you reboot his system, he’ll be fine?” Branko asked anxiously.
“I can’t be sure,” Sara admitted, “but we’ll restart him in safe mode. Once he’s conscious, I can run deeper diagnostics and isolate the areas that need complete reprogramming.”
“What if he needs more than reprogramming?” Misko feared there were more than electrical gremlins at play here.
“Then I’ll rebuild him piece by piece,” Sara promised confidently. “I learned everything I know following my mother around the labs at Velders Dynamics. She wrote nearly every piece of software in your brain. Even today, the upgrades and updates are all based on her work and designs.”
Misko knew that, of course, but it was good to hear her say it. “How long will it take to wake him up in safe mode?”
“I don’t want to rush it,” Sara said, moving closer to study their brother. Addressing the doctors, she asked, “Is he stable?”
“Yes. He has a mild infection that we’re already treating. His nanobots are trashed, though,” the pink-haired male doctor said.
“We can replace those,” the other doctor said. “We’ll run a clearance cycle to purge the old nanobots and flood his system with a new batch.”
“Since he’s stable,” Sara said, “I would like to make sure I have a virtual machine setup to secure his systems as a redundancy. Once I have that arranged, I’ll restart his processors and start picking my way through the coding to diagnose his errors.” She turned toward Misko and Branko. “If that’s okay with you, obviously.”
He glanced at his brother, and they both nodded. Sara stepped closer to the doctors to discuss the setup she would require, and Misko gestured toward the door with his head. Branko followed close behind, out into the hall of the small hospital. They found a pair of chairs nearby and sank down into them.
Eventually, Branko remarked, “There’s a lot of money behind this operation.”
“Yes,” Misko replied quietly.
“Where do you think it’s coming from?”
“Camila mentioned her sister created a cryptocurrency. Perhaps Sara siphons a small amount from every transaction.”
“Or they’re doing something illegal to fund this,” Branko hissed. “Gambling? Counterfeits? Prostitution?”
“I highly doubt the last one,” Misko replied, certain that Sara was similar to Camila when it came to things like that. “The other two?” He shrugged. “Camila told me she ran an illicit casino out of her sorority house when she was at university. It wouldn’t surprise me if Sara’s group found a way to launder money through a few casinos.”
“These sisters are something else,” Branko said with a shake of his head. “I’m almost afraid to meet the third one.”
Misko snorted. “I doubt we’ll ever cross paths with that one.”
“And what about the one we crossed paths with first?” His brother eyed him curiously. “Did you two...?”
He frowned at his brother. “You are impossibly nosy.”
“You say that like I haven’t always been this way.”
His mouth twitched with a smile. “Ever since you first learned to talk.”
“So?” Branko soldiered on insistently.
“We had a very satisfactory night together.”
Branko tipped his head back and laughed. “Please tell me you don’t talk to her like that when you’re alone.”
Misko frowned. “What’s wrong with the way I talk?”
His brother laughed softly. “You know what? Nothing. There’s nothing wrong with you. If she likes the way you are, that’s exactly the way you should be.”
Irritated by his brother, Misko sat back with a huff and crossed his arms. Not wanting to talk about his private life any longer, he asked, “What are we going to do?”
“About?”
“The future,” he said broadly.
“Well, we’re stuck here until Andro is healthy enough to leave. After that, I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
“Reunite the civilians we saved with their cyborgs. Find more of the cyborgs jettisoned in space. Do whatever we can to stop the emperor and make things right for the people of Bionus.”
“That’s a long list,” Branko remarked. Looking around the hospital, he added, “If we want to help, I think we’re in the right place. These people want what we want.”
“Can we trust them?”
“We don’t have to trust them to work with them, Mis. It’s probably better if we don’t trust them fully,” he decided. “Blind faith and loyalty in our mission is what got us here.”
“Truer words,” Misko muttered.
“What are we going to do about Mom?”
Misko had been waiting for that question since before they were arrested. It had been Andro’s idea to send their mother away as soon as they were called back from their peacekeeping missions to join the campaign on Bionus. She had been safely hidden away since then, insulated from the horrors that befell many cyborg relatives.
“We need to reach out to her. Let her know we’re safe,” he said, thinking of how she worried about her boys. “Make sure she’s still safe.”
“Mom’s tough. She’s smart. She’ll keep out of trouble if she knows we’re safe.”
“Make contact with her,” Misko instructed, “but do it very carefully.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Branko reassured him. Then with a rascal’s grin, he asked, “Should I tell her to start planning a wedding?”
Misko punched his brother in the upper arm. “Don’t you dare joke about that with Mom. Don’t give her false hopes.”
“That hurt,” Branko said, shocked. “False hopes? What does that even mean?”
Misko stood suddenly, gripped by the need to move. “It means that I have nothing to give a woman like Camila. She’ll go back to her life of privilege and safety, and I’ll go back to war. This thing between us wasn’t meant to endure.”
“Mis!” Branko called after him as he strode down the hall and out of the building.
Saying aloud what he had been thinking since Camila allowed him to kiss her that first time felt oddly freeing. Before the campaign on Bionus, before the trial, before the branding and fleeing the prison ship, Misko might have been able to offer Camila a good life. Maybe not the lifestyle to which she was accustomed, but a respectable one.
Now? There was nothing respectable about him. He was marked as a criminal and would spend whatever remained of his life running from the emperor or fighting to rescue and free his cyborg brethren. There would be no stability, no security and no place for a lover, a wife, a family.
No matter how much it hurt, he had to let Camilo go.
