Suddenly, the screens stopped running progress bars and came up with an option.

  Restart required.

  That’s all it said. I stared at the screen.

  Morwyn looked at me, baffled. “Restart? What does that even mean? He’s a man, isn’t he?”

  I sighed. “Maybe… I mean, I think so. I’m going to do it. What other chance does he have?”

  Before Morwyn or anyone else could complain further, I reached out and tapped the screen. A large green oval changed color and appeared to react.

  Another progress bar began. Huan squirmed in our grasp. It felt weird—unnatural. It was as if I held a muscular serpent instead of a man. I almost dropped him—almost.

  The screen blanked and flickered. At the same time, Huan went limp again.

  “We killed him!”

  “Maybe,” I admitted.

  We eased him face down on the deck and stared. The body was cold, motionless. There was nothing but that jack sticking out of his neck. It looked as if we’d murdered him, and I suddenly found myself not wanting to be found holding onto the evidence.

  Nearly a minute passed. There didn’t seem to be any vital signs. We both stood up and exchanged glances. Morwyn was emotional.

  “He’s dying on the deck at our feet. Did he deserve to be killed?”

  “Morwyn, you’ve hired us as mercenaries. As gun-runners. You can’t expect us to be the best at the healing arts as well.”

  She took in a deep breath and nodded. “Yes. You’re right. This man followed you. How could you know what—?”

  She broke off and released a small shriek. “That hand moved! The mechanical one!”

  I looked down, and I saw she was right. The whole body was shaking and writhing now.

  The diagnostic screen on the computer lit up again. The reboot was complete.

  Huan’s mechanical hand placed itself on the deck. The arm flexed, as if he were doing a one-handed push-up, and the body flipped over.

  Flopping and curling up, I saw all of him was moving now. He was still shivering.

  “It looks like he’s in shock,” Morwyn said. “I’ll get a blanket.”

  She ran off, and I leaned forward to peer down at Huan. “You okay man? You had us pretty worried—”

  Those two strange eyes, one of flesh and the other a cybernetic camera—they were disturbing. Especially when they were both focused with insane intensity upon my face.

  The mouth quivered and drooled. A single word slurred out.

  “Thanks…”

  Then, he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Huan recovered quickly—almost too quickly. Sosa was immediately suspicious, while Trask and Jort thought I was straight-out insane to allow the bounty-hunter aboard our ship in the first place.

  Huan came to full consciousness after a feverish night, during which his body expelled many toxins. Apparently, the cybernetic parts of his internals didn’t entirely like being shut down and rebooted. They’d rebelled by souring the organic zones in his gut and head. He was like a man with a bad hangover.

  I knew the old William Gorman, the original man who’d died out here in space, would not have been considerate. It was strange to think, but I now believed I’d been changed somewhat by dying and returning as a clone.

  My clone version—the real me, I mean—had begun to separate the old memories apart from the new. I could recall moments and events from my original life, but they felt slightly disconnected. It was as if they were dreamed, or half-dreamed.

  Anyone who has ever awakened and thought of an event and been vaguely uncertain if that event actually happened or not, perhaps something from their childhood, can understand this feeling.

  Some would say the effect was due to the knowledge I possessed about the way these memories were artificially injected into a newly-grown brain. Others would say it was because the very process of implantation was flawed.

  Whatever the case, I’d had a rough start as a clone. I’d nearly been disposed of from the start of my new existence. To be helpless in the grasp of heartless beings—that was something I had direct, firsthand knowledge of. Those were real memories, intense and gripping for a new mind that was thinking independently for the first time. For me, moments like that had been formative.

  So, I gave Huan a break. I didn’t space him right off the bat, as Jort kept hinting around about. I didn’t even interrogate him while he was lashed to a chair. Instead, I invited him to the ship’s lounge for breakfast.

  Slumped over a table, his organic arm tiredly swizzled cream into a coffee we’d given him. He kept adding more cream, more sugar, but rarely took a sip.

  Sliding into a seat across the table from him, I laid out a plate of tank-grown eggs and ham. They weren’t half bad if you put enough salt on them.

  For everyone’s comfort, I’d put the ship into a tight orbit around the planetoid and set us into a light spin that provided some gravity. It wasn’t anything like a full G, but it was enough to keep your food from sliding around the cabin.

  Around us, two others lurked. Jort stood at the entrance, unwilling to fully enter the mess deck or to leave it. His arms were crossed, and his hooded eyes stared at Huan. He never smiled, and if Huan ever dared to reach for something, Jort’s hand immediately went to his sidearm.

  Sosa was the other lurker. I’d ordered her to retreat up to the flight deck repeatedly, but she was unable to focus on such mundane tasks while a dangerous enemy sat at our table below. She pretended to make herself a snack for several minutes, messing with packets and running the auto-heater. Somehow, no snack ever seemed to get made.

  “Huan?” I asked. “Are you feeling better now?”

  “No… not really. I’m conflicted.”

  I nodded. “Perhaps we’re not as bad as you thought, huh?”

  Huan’s head shifted up a fraction. His artificial camera eye swiveled up to look at me.

  Jort immediately bristled behind him. I glanced at Jort and gave him a single shake of my head. Frowning, almost pouting, Jort forced himself to relax.

  “That’s not it,” Huan said. “I know what you are. A runner. A rogue. An individual who respects nothing about the laws and concepts I’m sworn to uphold.”

  “I thought you were a bounty-hunter, not some kind of self-appointed officer of the law.”

  Huan pondered that. “I’m neither, actually. I’m… I’m not from here. Not from the Conclave.”

  Frowning, I sipped my drink and ate some of my breakfast. It’s been my longstanding belief that when someone is speaking truth—or at least their perceived truth—it was best to shut up and let them do it.

  “I’m a fugitive from far away. I came to the Conclave and discovered a path through life. As a tracker, I’ve managed to locate and return to my employers every man I’ve been assigned to hunt. Every single one of them.”

  He said this with pride. I nodded as if vaguely interested and forked up some tank-grown ham. It needed more salt to kill the aftertaste, which I applied with vigor.

  Huan watched me as I did this. “You’re not like any of the men I’d hunted. First of all, you managed to locate and disable me. That was smartly done. But on top of that, you didn’t kill me or sell me for scrap or servitude. That’s even more surprising.”

  “I’ve been in your position before,” I told him, and I briefly described my prior existence as a clone.

  “Ah…” he said, as if I’d shone light on a murky subject. “I understand better now… you are not really William Gorman. You’re not the man I studied and sought so carefully. That is why you evaded me, then reversed my pursuit and captured me in turn with such ease. I made a critical error…”

  Shrugging, I decided to let him think what he wanted. In my opinion, I could have bested him as the original Gorman or as the clone. But telling him that wouldn’t make him like me any better.

  “You said you came from somewhere else… where, exactly?”

  “From beyond the Fringe. Like those passengers of yours, the Vindari.”

  I nodded. “From the Chain, then?” I asked this while my head was down, as if it was of only passing interest to me. My knife and fork scratched at my plate.

  Huan didn’t answer right away. “Let me ask you something, Gorman. Do you know you have a Tulk aboard your vessel?”

  My head came up. I nodded. “Yes. I do. We’re working together on a… a project of sorts.”

  Huan eyed me with both his variant orbs. That was a strange experience. It was odd enough to have either his camera eye or his natural one staring at me. To have both fixated and unblinking in my direction at the same time was different, but equally disturbing.

  “You know of the Tulk? You know what they are? The threat they represent?”

  I pushed away my food and faced him. “Listen, we have to talk about you first, before I take you any further into my confidence.”

  “Talk about me? Ah, you mean my fate, of course. I understand. Am I still to be peddled at a slave market? Is this perhaps your soft-handed interrogation before the rude truth is revealed?”

  “No. I’m hoping all unpleasantness can be avoided.”

  “All right. I’m listening.”

  After a moment’s thought, I made my pitch. “I want you to get off my tail. I want you to get back into your tiny ship, leave this system and never search for me again. You said before you always get your man—well, not this time. This will become your single failure. Surely, your employers can’t expect a spotless record of success to continue on forever. They’ll understand.”

  “A contract buyout then? I’ve never done that. But under these circumstances, I’m willing to consider it. What’s your offer?”

  This kind of pissed me off. “Offer? There is no offer. I’m not buying you out. I want you to call us even. I give you your life and your ship. That’s more than anyone else would give. In return, you piss off and get out of my life forever.”

  Huan seemed disappointed. “I’d expected some kind of compensation…”

  “Then you thought wrong.”

  Jort squirmed behind Huan and pointed at his gun emphatically. I knew what he wanted—to blast him right now and be done with it. I was beginning to see his point.

  “Well, in any case, we’re at an impasse,” Huan said. “I can’t do as you ask. I have governors within my mind and my body. That’s why I’m so relentless, so reliable. I have significant freedom of will, but it’s not complete. It’s as if fate guides my thoughts and actions. Think of me as a man of unshakable conviction.”

  I stared at him for a moment, and I believed him. I sighed. “That’s very disappointing.”

  Suddenly, Jort was looming behind Huan. He had a broad grin on his face. He popped his hands together, making a loud clapping sound. Then he drew his pistol.

  “This is a terrible thing,” Jort said. “I’m so sorry that it had to come to this. I know that you wanted to make a friend out of your pet robot here, Captain, but this is not to be.”

  As he spoke, Jort placed the muzzle of his pistol at the back of Huan’s head. He didn’t look at all as if he was disappointed. If anything, he looked quite happy about the situation.

  “Hold on, Jort,” I said. “Huan… you asked about the Tulk. What do you know about them? Why are they dangerous?”

  Huan made a wheezing sound. After a moment, I thought that it might be laughter.

  “Why are they dangerous? Because they infest humans. They suborn your will and force you to do as they wish. Isn’t that enough?”

  I nodded. “That is a serious issue. But do you know if they can be trusted? I mean, if you strike a deal with one of them, will he honor it?”

  Huan’s head cocked to one side.

  Jort’s pistol moved with him. I could tell he was itching to fire, but I also knew he wouldn’t without my permission. Huan didn’t seem to care much either way. He had never shown fear, and I wasn’t sure he was capable of feeling that particular emotion.

  “I’m not certain… but I do know that at times, clean humans have worked with Tulk to fight against worse things.”

  “What things?”

  “Creatures that don’t exist in this part of the galaxy, fortunately.”

  I stood up. Huan watched me, and Jort watched Huan.

  “Come with me. You can keep your gun on him if you want to, Jort.”

  They followed. Jort’s pistol stayed in line with Huan’s spine or skull at all times.

  I took them to the hold. It was cold down here. The walls were frosted and our breath puffed white.

  “This was the spot. You remember, Jort? The shrade was wrapped around one of our model-Ds. He was carrying Sosa up the ramp, and we fought it. The culus I destroyed with a shredder as well.”

  Huan’s weird eyes showed new life. They were swiveling this way and that, independently. The camera eye was scanning the parts of the ramp I had indicated, while the other eye watched me.

  Jort finally answered. “I remember those things. And the one that inhabited one of our model-Ds for a time. It controlled our robot somehow. They are more than animals.”

  “What you are saying is impossible!” Huan burst out. “Right here? You fought these aliens?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you prove this?”

  I showed him a brief video clip. He watched it, then reloaded it and watched it again several more times.

  “This… this is most disturbing. I thought I’d left such horrors behind.”

  I looked at him closely. “Huan, you’re from the Faustian Chain, aren’t you? That’s where your home stars shine?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Then you know what we’re facing. These aliens, with their multiple forms, they are almost unkillable. They are here now, at the Fringe of the Conclave.”

  “I was… I was unaware. This is unwelcome news.”

  “I’m sure it is. But now do you understand why the Tulk-infested man we’re traveling with is cooperating? We’re all in a temporary alliance together. Our passengers—the Vindari, I mean—they’re fighting these things on their homeworld.”

  Huan listened to me closely. “Keep speaking. You’re altering my mental priorities.”

  “All right. What’s happening here isn’t just a local gun-running job. I’m not in this for profit—not this time. I’m trying to save the Conclave from invasion. This star system we’re in now has excellent weapons. The Sardez fought these aliens, and although they lost, they left behind tools meant to win a war with this enemy.”

  “I’ve heard things about this star system…”

  “The rumors are true—some of them. They weren’t evil people. They were our best. I think the Conclave bombed out their home world to stop the invasion. That was decades ago—but it’s happening again.”

  Huan pulled a move then. I never saw it coming. Perhaps having two variant eyes had advantages.

  He reached behind himself, quick as a cat, and snatched Jort’s gun. The weapon went off with a resounding boom—but no one was hit.

  Huan tossed the weapon away from all of us. It clattered on the frosty deck.

  Jort grappled with him, and they strove together. Huan was surprisingly strong, especially with his artificial hand. It was even more powerful than either of Jort’s.

  “I can make a deal now,” Huan said.

  “Jort, let go of him.”

  Puffing like a bull through his flaring nostrils, Jort released him and stepped back a half-step. “I’m sorry Captain, I should never have let him—”

  “Forget it. Huan? Why are you fighting with us?”

  “Allow me to explain. My dictates—”

  “Your what?”

  “Dictates. Imperatives. Think of them as implanted ideas, intrinsic thoughts… In any regard, my dictates wouldn’t allow me to alter my course of action while under threat. I have removed Jort’s gun, and he therefore no longer represents a threat.”

  “Crazy robot-guy! I’m still a threat! I could tear off that metal arm and—”

  “Jort—shut up,” I ordered.

  Jort stopped talking, but he continued breathing hard through his nose. His hands worked at the air, forming fists, then claws, then fists again.

  “Huan? What’s your deal?”

  “My previous contract has been voided because a higher-priority situation has arisen. This invasion of the Conclave… it suffices as an emergency.”

  “So you’re saying we can forgive and forget? We can go our separate ways?”

  “No, Captain!” Jort burst out. “Don’t trust this crazy guy!”

  I waved for Jort to stop, and he finally went back to brooding.

  “I will definitely stop trying to arrest you,” Huan said. “That program has already ceased executing. This alien threat has interrupted it. The new situation has overridden everything else in my mind, in fact.”

  “Excellent,” I said, nodding. “Then you’ll take your ship and leave us alone?”

  “My compliance will go further than that. I have no choice, actually… The invasion of the Conclave must be stopped. These creatures are even worse than you suspect, Captain. I would like to work with you to destroy them. May I join your crew?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Explaining Huan’s change of heart to the rest of my crew wasn’t easy. He was far from trusted. He was, in fact, shunned and eyed with great suspicion by everyone aboard—except for Varrick.

  “Why do you accept Huan’s behavior so readily?” I asked Varrick the following day, as we made ready to land on the planetoid.

  “Because he’s like me. He’s from the Chain. All beings and sub-beings from the Chain understand the situation we’re in today.”

  “So… back among your home stars, everyone pulled together to work against these invaders?”

  “Not everyone, but most did eventually. When a greater enemy arrives, all other conflicts are necessarily forgotten. This enemy that approaches us is like a firestorm. They’re a grim source of certain death to all they meet—unless we act in concert.”

  I mulled that over. It seemed to fit a pattern—and it was alarming. How could these invaders bring humans, machines and aliens together into an instant alliance? Could they really be that terrifying and unstoppable?