Read Online Star Vigilante (Vigilante Series) by T. Jackson King - Free Book Online
Authors: T. Jackson King
Ads: Link
for a lifepod. “Are we expected by Clan Themistocles?”
“They expect me,” she said, frowning as she caught the look on his face. “It was not certain that I would secure a Vigilante.”
“Who rules Zeus Station now?” he said, turning to practical matters.
“Clan Themistocles!” Eliana said firmly.
“Are you sure, dear girl?” Mata Hari said softly, making herself visible in a side holosphere, dressed in her white lace, full-length skirt with low-cut bodice, a late Victorian style sometimes worn by her spy namesake. “Or could there be remnants of Clan Karamanlis still about, folks who would be happy to see Clan Themistocles fall into the mud of failure?”
Eliana looked startled by the three-dimensional image of his AI partner, then glared at him. “Can’t you shut off that infernal computer!”
Matt crossed arms in the Pit, ignoring the back of the neck ache that came from the coax cable attachment point. “Patron, that ‘infernal computer’ saved your life back at Hagonar Station. She does as she pleases.”
Eliana grimaced. She looked rearward at the crystalline pillars of the AI’s Core memory, across at Mata Hari ’s holosphere, then down at him. “At home, Humans control their AIs—not the reverse!”
Sadness filled him. “And you think I am controlled by Mata Hari ?”
“You are what you are.” Pity showed on Eliana’s face. “You . . . you chose to bond with it.”
“Madam, you asked for my help, not the reverse. What is the problem?”
She struggled visibly with her emotions, her revulsion barely restrained as she looked from his neck cable to the cone-tiers and back to him. Finally, she fixed on his eyes, his human eyes. “I’m sorry, Matt. Really, I am. I was raised better than to show unkindness.” She sat down at the edge of the Pit, legs folded under her. Ignoring Mata Hari’s watchful holo-image, she gestured apologetically. “My problem is that on Halcyon we have never had cyborgs—machine people—among us. Our society considers them . . . unnatural.”
Matt laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Unnatural? What do you call mating with aliens? What of your symbiosis with the Trees? Some humans would call both unnatural.”
Eliana looked honestly bewildered. “But, but—it’s not the same at all! They are both organic, natural lifeforms.”
He could have written a book on the human ability to delude oneself in order to avoid facing reality. He hadn’t. Instead, Matt kept his distance from most human groups, preferring the clear logic of AIs like Mata Hari . Arguing was pointless, but he had to ask one more question. “Patron, I must rely upon you for many things. Can you hold in check your reactions to me? Can you deal with me as a Greek man, rather than as a cyborg?”
“I . . . I.” Eliana averted her eyes from the Interlock Pit, looked back, averted again, then forced herself to look at him, her face paler than usual. “I’ll try. I promise I’ll try. When you’re just yourself, like at breakfast this morning, it’s different. You’re quite nice. But that neck cable, your communion with that computer, with her!” She gestured to the side holosphere. “Well, it’s enough to . . . . “ She closed her eyes tight, breathed deep, and opened them again. Dark eyelashes blinked. “Frankly, plugged into that machine, there is nothing natural or normal about you.”
“You’re wrong. And can’t you see how alike we are? We are both outcasts from normal society.”
“ Alike? ” Eliana looked shocked. “Impossible!” The squeamishness reappeared and she turned away from him, from the cable, from what he had changed into—in order to survive.
“But you’ll try?”
Slowly, very slowly, she turned and met his eyes, jaw muscles clenching tight. “Yes. I’ll try. I owe you that, for agreeing to help us.”
“I get paid. And very well.” Matt turned away from Eliana and pushed aside vain hopes. “We will visit your Zeus Station, converse with
“They expect me,” she said, frowning as she caught the look on his face. “It was not certain that I would secure a Vigilante.”
“Who rules Zeus Station now?” he said, turning to practical matters.
“Clan Themistocles!” Eliana said firmly.
“Are you sure, dear girl?” Mata Hari said softly, making herself visible in a side holosphere, dressed in her white lace, full-length skirt with low-cut bodice, a late Victorian style sometimes worn by her spy namesake. “Or could there be remnants of Clan Karamanlis still about, folks who would be happy to see Clan Themistocles fall into the mud of failure?”
Eliana looked startled by the three-dimensional image of his AI partner, then glared at him. “Can’t you shut off that infernal computer!”
Matt crossed arms in the Pit, ignoring the back of the neck ache that came from the coax cable attachment point. “Patron, that ‘infernal computer’ saved your life back at Hagonar Station. She does as she pleases.”
Eliana grimaced. She looked rearward at the crystalline pillars of the AI’s Core memory, across at Mata Hari ’s holosphere, then down at him. “At home, Humans control their AIs—not the reverse!”
Sadness filled him. “And you think I am controlled by Mata Hari ?”
“You are what you are.” Pity showed on Eliana’s face. “You . . . you chose to bond with it.”
“Madam, you asked for my help, not the reverse. What is the problem?”
She struggled visibly with her emotions, her revulsion barely restrained as she looked from his neck cable to the cone-tiers and back to him. Finally, she fixed on his eyes, his human eyes. “I’m sorry, Matt. Really, I am. I was raised better than to show unkindness.” She sat down at the edge of the Pit, legs folded under her. Ignoring Mata Hari’s watchful holo-image, she gestured apologetically. “My problem is that on Halcyon we have never had cyborgs—machine people—among us. Our society considers them . . . unnatural.”
Matt laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Unnatural? What do you call mating with aliens? What of your symbiosis with the Trees? Some humans would call both unnatural.”
Eliana looked honestly bewildered. “But, but—it’s not the same at all! They are both organic, natural lifeforms.”
He could have written a book on the human ability to delude oneself in order to avoid facing reality. He hadn’t. Instead, Matt kept his distance from most human groups, preferring the clear logic of AIs like Mata Hari . Arguing was pointless, but he had to ask one more question. “Patron, I must rely upon you for many things. Can you hold in check your reactions to me? Can you deal with me as a Greek man, rather than as a cyborg?”
“I . . . I.” Eliana averted her eyes from the Interlock Pit, looked back, averted again, then forced herself to look at him, her face paler than usual. “I’ll try. I promise I’ll try. When you’re just yourself, like at breakfast this morning, it’s different. You’re quite nice. But that neck cable, your communion with that computer, with her!” She gestured to the side holosphere. “Well, it’s enough to . . . . “ She closed her eyes tight, breathed deep, and opened them again. Dark eyelashes blinked. “Frankly, plugged into that machine, there is nothing natural or normal about you.”
“You’re wrong. And can’t you see how alike we are? We are both outcasts from normal society.”
“ Alike? ” Eliana looked shocked. “Impossible!” The squeamishness reappeared and she turned away from him, from the cable, from what he had changed into—in order to survive.
“But you’ll try?”
Slowly, very slowly, she turned and met his eyes, jaw muscles clenching tight. “Yes. I’ll try. I owe you that, for agreeing to help us.”
“I get paid. And very well.” Matt turned away from Eliana and pushed aside vain hopes. “We will visit your Zeus Station, converse with
Similar Books
