Chapter 27
“Well, aren’t you two the sorriest looking pieces of heroes I’ve ever seen,” Ula said as she came into the hospital room and sat the bouquet of pink and blue flowers on the table.
Morrigan, shot in her stomach, her shoulder and her leg, could do very little other than move her right arm.
And roll her eyes at her friend.
“Lovely flowers,” she said, marveling at their color. Once again she was surrounded by nothing but white, gray and black. And the occasional orange for the Company logo on things.
The colors were a pleasant distraction from the aches in her body.
“Don’t tell people that,” Cadell groaned at her. “Make us out to be what we’re not.”
Ula raised her eyebrow. “Oh, so I shouldn’t tell anyone that you two single-handedly took out Human First spies here in The Colony, who were out to destroy all the peace and joy in this fancy, smansy terraforming project?” Her voice got louder as she spoke, so loud that most likely, anyone outside the room would have heard her talking.
“Yes. That,” Cadell grumbled. “There are no heroes. Just people who make choices.” He glanced in Mori’s direction.
Morrigan nodded and touched his hand. Their thoughts connected, and she felt what he felt.
And she knew what he meant—most heroes were never heroic, they just made a good choice once in a while. Cadell was no hero. He could be the biggest saint for the rest of his life, and he’d never lose the moniker of The Butcher of Nova Wars.
Neither was Morrigan.
A goddess of war—at least, she had been once—but not a hero. Because there was always a winner and a loser. A hero’s choice was only good in the eye of the winner. It all depended on whose side of the war one was on.
Some would see a hero.
Others a villain.
Neither one of them were heroes. Not really.
She was just glad they both had lived past their wounds.
They weren’t supposed to.
Mori had hit the ground hard. They both had been rushed to the Colony Hospital. Morrigan underwent hours of surgery to remove the projectiles from her.
Cadell’s took longer.
And he still wasn’t quite right yet. Mori was just glad—and surprised—that they both lived past that day.
Ula tapped their hands, and they both let go, and giggled. “Shut up, robot boy. And you two need to quit having those private conversations.”
“Jealous?” Cadell asked, staring at the ceiling.
“Annoyed. I’m in the room. It’s rude.”
Mori and Cadell laughed. “As long as we can, I think we should,” Mori added.
“You’re not getting rid of me very easily,” Cadell said, though not looking at anyone in particular.
“Gah, the lovey stuff. Blech. You think you two would quit. You’ve been in here a week. That’s all you two have done, gushed at each other.”
“We weren’t supposed to live,” Mori said.
“ Supposed to and did are two different things.” Ula crossed to look at Cadell’s scanner. “Looks like they patched up your stuff well.” She pressed a few buttons. “I may have to go in and adjust some of your cyborg parts, though.” She waved at Cadell.
He didn’t move.
“You still can’t see all the angles?”
“I get flashes,” he said. He told Mori he hadn’t been able to see right since being shot. Sometimes things were too bright; other times they were just flashes, like a strobe. And occasionally he’d be able to see properly.
She nodded. “I’ll get it fixed up, once your physical stuff heals. Those cyborg systems run all through your organic body. It’s a wonder you haven’t damaged them more than they are.”
That was one thing that confused Mori. “But he didn’t get hit in his head. Aren’t his visual scanners in his head?”
“Some of the ocular nodes are in his shoulder,” Ula said.
“Odd. Will it be hard to fix it?”
“Not really,” Ula said.
“I’m okay. No rush,” Cadell said. “The HUD works.”
“Good, you can see something,” she replied. “And your brain doesn’t seem fried.”
“Hate it,” he replied and yawned.
“Don’t care. It works.” Ula turned to Morrigan. “He’s grumpy.”
“One tends to be when shot with archaic contraband and then has his brain downloaded.”
“You’re not.”
“My brain wasn’t downloaded.”
“He volunteered for that,” Ula added.
“Better than jail time,” Cadell said.
Transdot was investigating all the details and had been by several times to interrogate them both about the events. The only reason Cadell was in the hospital and not in a prison cell was because he’d let them download his memories—a benefit of being cyborg—to help them track down more of the Human First operatives that might be attempting to disrupt life in The Colony.
Evidently, Dumol had erased all records of Mori’s tips from Transdot’s systems and had tried to erase all evidence of Morrigan herself, for that matter.
Ula had been helpful in finding the information.
Whether they had more suspects to pursue, no one had said, but it likely that Cadell had something they could track.
“There is that,” Ula said. “According to the internal—”
“Ula, you’re spying again.”
“If they didn’t want me to find it, they’d use better encryption.” She grinned. “Anyway, they don’t think you all are responsible. They’re after the mastermind.”
“She’s lying in a grave,” Mori said.
“They think there’s another player to find. We’re working on it.”
“We?”
“My super programming powers have been revealed,” Ula said. “I got a promotion.” She pressed a couple of controls on Cadell’s screen. “How’s that?”
“Hurts like fuck,” Cadell groaned.
“You’ll heal,” Ula said as she tapped a few more things. “At least you two are sharing a room. That’s always a plus.”
There were a lot of plusses right now. Merely breathing was a huge one.
Her future was unclear, as was Luke’s. Would she return to life in The Colony as though nothing happened? Back to being a tailor, and for Cadell, back to working on the farms?
It seemed so bland after the last few days.
But truly, did she need exciting right now? She was alive. Cadell was alive. Dumol was dead. Her plan to kill the former ambassador had failed.
Now, all they had to do was heal.
That was what was going to take the time.
“We’re alive,” Cadell said.
“That’s a plus too,” Ula said.