Winter

Sixty-One

Cinder was frustrated by her own helplessness. They’d moved into the mansion’s recreational room. Until then, Cinder hadn’t known mansions came with recreational rooms. She was doing her best to dictate to the others what needed to be done in order to extract the video she’d tried to take in the throne room, and how to fix her leg and brain-machine interface. But while they were running around gathering supplies, she was seated on a lavish sofa with her useless hunk-of-metal leg. She hated knowing she could have had everything working again easily enough if she was back in her workshop in New Beijing. If she had the right tools. If she wasn’t the machinery that needed fixing.

She tried to be grateful. She had survived the queen’s attempted execution and she hadn’t drowned in Artemisia Lake. She was with her friends again and Iko hadn’t been destroyed after all—had, in fact, been helped by one of Aimery’s own guards, which confirmed what Jacin had told her once before. Not everyone in the palace was as loyal to Levana as she wanted to think.

On top of all that, she might have video footage of Queen Levana that would show what lay beneath her glamour. It could be the best weapon they had against her and her mind control.

If the footage hadn’t been destroyed in the water, that is.

“Thorne, pry off the back panel of that receiver, but gently. Jacin, what did you find in the security panel?”

“A bunch of wires.” Jacin dumped a handful of wires and a databoard onto the floor.

Cinder nudged at the wires with her good foot. “A few of these should work. Help me turn this table over. It’s similar to the holographic game boards we have on Earth, so I think…” She grabbed one of the table legs with her good hand, but her injured shoulder resisted when she tried to turn it over. Jacin grabbed it from her and did it himself, and Cinder felt a twitch developing in her left eye. She tried not to be resentful. It wasn’t his fault she was still tender from where the wolf soldier had bitten her, and at least the numbing pain salve they’d found was performing miracles.

“There’s not going to be blood when we open you up, is there?” said Thorne, carrying the receiver over to Cinder so she could pick through its inner workings. “I mean, we’re talking strictly cybernetics, right?”

“Better be.” She scanned the inner workings of the receiver while Thorne and Jacin disassembled the VR gaming table. The setup was different from anything they had on Earth—different-colored wires, different-size plugs and connectors, but it all functioned with similar technology and the same basic principles. “It’s not so much surgery as … maintenance. Our biggest concern is whether or not all the hardware will be compatible. The technology is similar, but it’s changed enough since Luna and Earth stopped trading with each other that … I guess we’ll see.” She glanced at the gaming table as Thorne pried off the side panel, revealing the inner workings. “Oh, perfect!” Leaning forward, she pried up the fiber mode converter. “We can use this.”

Iko and Cress strolled into the room, Cress carrying a wooden box.

“They have a workshop out back,” said Iko. She was wearing a shimmering pink shirt she’d found in the house, mostly to cover up the bullet hole in her torso and the slash in the back of her right shoulder. Cinder hoped that once she was fixed, she’d be able to at least make Iko’s arm functional again too.

“I found everything on your list except the demagnetized three-pronged parts retriever. But I did find some tweezers in the bathroom?” She twirled the tweezers between her good fingers.

Twisting her mouth, Cinder took the tweezers and flicked a stray eyebrow hair from their tip. “We’ll make them work.” She surveyed the pile of tools and spare parts they’d accumulated from technology all over the mansion. Without being able to see inside her own head and offer an accurate diagnosis, it was difficult to know what they were going to need to fix her, but if it wasn’t included in this pile, they had little hope of finding it here. “We’ll need a lamp so you can see what you’re doing. And what about a hand mirror? We can hold it up so I can see inside.”

Jacin shook his head. “Not in this city.”

Cinder scowled. “Right, fine. We’re going to extract the data off the vid-chip first, then we’ll focus on the retina display. My eyes are still communicating with my optical nerve, so my best guess is there’s been a disruption of data transfer from my control panel to the display. Could be as simple as a damaged wire. Once we have that working, I should be able to run my internal diagnostics and figure out what’s wrong with my hand and leg.” She pointed at a virtual reality viewing chair. “Drag that over here.”

Jacin complied, and Cinder pulled herself into the chair, facing backward so she could drape her arms over the back. She rested her forehead on them. “Cress?”

“Ready when you are.”

“All right. Let’s see what we can find.”

Iko brushed Cinder’s hair off to one side and dug a fingernail into the latch in the back of Cinder’s skull. Cinder felt the panel swing open.

“Oh, sure,” said Thorne. “When I open her head panel, she yells at me. When Iko does it, she’s a hero.”

Cinder glared at him over her folded arms. “Would you like to do this?”

He grimaced. “Not even a little bit.”

“Then back up and give them space to work.” She laid her forehead down again. “All right, Iko. There’s a cable insert on the left side of the control panel.”

Someone turned on a lamp and bright light edged around her vision.

“I see it,” said Iko. “Cress, you have that port?”

“And connector cable, right here.”

Cinder heard them shuffling behind her, brushing more of her hair out of the way. There was a click, muffled inside her own head. A shudder coursed through her. It had been a while since an external device had been plugged into her processor. The last time had been when she’d drained her power source getting the Rampion into space, right after they’d escaped from New Beijing Prison. Thorne had had to recharge her with a podship plug.

The time before that she’d been in a research lab, strapped to a table while a med-droid downloaded the statistics of her cybernetic makeup.

She really, really hated having things plugged into her head.

She forced herself to take deep breaths. It was only Iko and Cress. She knew what they were plugging into her and what data they were extracting. It was not a violation. It was not an invasion.

But it was impossible not to feel that way.

“The connection worked,” said Cress. “There doesn’t appear to be any obvious holes in the data, so this part of your programming wasn’t affected by whatever cut off power to your limbs. I just need to find where it stores visual input and … here we go. Recordings … chronological … would it be the most recent … never mind, this must be it. Video, encrypted, one minute fifty-six seconds long. And … transferring.”

Cinder’s gut twisted. She was not squeamish in general, but whenever her panel was open it was impossible not to think about nameless, faceless surgeons hovering over her unconscious form. Connecting wires and synapses to her brain, regulating her electrical pulses, replacing part of her skull with a removable metal plate.

She squeezed her forearms until they began to hurt, trying to distract herself from the humming of her own internal workings and the sound of Cress’s fingertips padding against the portscreen.

“Eighty percent,” said Cress.

White spots flickered on the blackness of Cinder’s eyelids. She breathed deeply, chastising herself. She was fine. This would have been a routine procedure if it had been her working on an android or another cyborg. She was fine.

The humming stopped and Cress said, “Done.”

“Check it before you disconnect,” said Cinder, gulping down a mouthful of sour saliva. “Make sure it’s the right one.”

“It’s showing … a lot of people.”

“There’s Kai!” squealed Iko.

Cinder jerked her head up. She felt the pull of the cord still connected to the portscreen. “Show me,” she said, even as brightness flooded her vision. She cringed, slamming her eyes shut again.

“Wait, hold still,” said Cress. “Let me disconnect—”

That was the last Cinder heard.

* * *

NEW CONNECTIONS FOUND

REALITY MANUFACTURING CYBERHAND T200–L–CUSTOM: FIVE UTILITIES UNRECOGNIZED: STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED

REALITY MANUFACTURING CYBERFOOT T60.9–L: STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED

REBOOTING IN 3 … 2 … 1 …

Cinder woke up on the sofa with the softest blanket she’d ever felt tucked around her shoulders. She squinted at the unfamiliar shadows on the ceiling, trying to shake off the bewilderment of waking up in a strange place and not being sure how she’d gotten there. Sitting up, she rubbed at her bleary eyes. The room was in disarray, tools and parts scattered around the carpet and tables.

DIAGNOSTICS CHECK COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS STABILIZED. TWO NEW CONNECTIONS FOUND:

CYBERHAND T200

CYBERFOOT T60.0

RUN APPLICATION TEST NOW?

She raised her left hand in front of her face. The shiny finish it had when Dr. Erland had first given it to her was gone after two months of making repairs to the Rampion and living in a desert and a dip in Artemisia Lake.

Most baffling was that she had all five fingers, although the pointer—the gun finger Levana had removed—didn’t quite match the others. The finish was different, it was too slender, and the angle of the first knuckle was crooked.

Cinder ran the application test and watched as her fingers curled down, one at a time. Flexed back. Tightened into a fist. The wrist swiveled from side to side.

Her foot went through a similar range of motions. She pulled back the blanket to watch.

BASIC APPLICATION TEST COMPLETE. STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED FOR USE. FIVE UTILITIES UNRECOGNIZED.

Five utilities.

Inspecting her hand, Cinder sent the command for the tips of her fingers to open, which they did without problem. But when she tried to turn on the flashlight, to eject the knife or universal connector cable, or to spin the built-in screwdriver, nothing happened. She didn’t bother trying to load a projectile into the replacement finger.

Still, she had use of the limb again, and she couldn’t complain.

“You’re awake!”

Iko traipsed into the room carrying a tray one-handed, with a glass of water and a plate of fried eggs, along with bread and jam.

Cinder’s stomach started gnawing through its lining. “You cooked?”

“Just some skills left over from my Serv9.2 days.” Iko set the plate in Cinder’s lap. “But I don’t want to hear a word about how delicious it is.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s awful,” Cinder said, shoveling a spoonful into her mouth. “Tank oo, Iko.” Her gaze landed on Iko’s disabled arm. It was missing a finger. She swallowed. “For the attachment too.”

Iko shrugged with her good shoulder. “You have a few escort-branded wires installed now too. The stuff from the gaming table didn’t work.”

“Thank you. That was really generous.”

Iko pushed Cinder’s feet aside and sat down. “You know how we androids are programmed to make ourselves useful and all that.”

“Are you still an android?” Cinder said around a bite of toast. “Sometimes I forget.”

“Me too.” Iko ducked her head. “When we saw the feed of you jumping off that ledge, I was so scared I thought my wiring was going to catch fire. And I thought, I will do anything to make sure she’s all right.” She kicked at a pile of stray screws on the carpet. “I guess some programming never goes away, no matter how evolved a personality chip gets.”

Licking some jam from her fingertips, Cinder grinned. “That’s not programming, you wing nut. That’s friendship.”

Iko’s eyes brightened. “Maybe you’re right.”

“About time you woke up, lazy.” Cinder glanced over her shoulder to see Thorne in the doorway. Cress and Jacin filed in behind him. “How’s the hand?”

“Almost fully functional.”

“Of course it’s almost fully functional,” said Iko. “Cress and I are geniuses.” She flashed Cress a thumbs-up.

“I helped,” said Thorne.

“He held the lamp,” Iko clarified.

“Jacin did nothing,” said Thorne, pointing.

“Jacin checked your pulse and breathing and made sure you weren’t dead,” said Iko.

Thorne snorted. “I could have done that.”

“Why did I pass out?” Cinder interrupted.

Crouching beside the couch, Jacin felt for the pulse in Cinder’s wrist. After a short silence, he let it drop down again. “Stress, probably, along with your physical reaction to having the portscreen connected to your”—he gestured to her general head area—“computer thing.”

“And you call me squeamish,” said Thorne.

Cinder squinted. “I passed out from stress? That’s it?”

“I believe the princess term is fainted,” said Thorne.

Cinder smacked him.

“With everything you’ve been through,” said Jacin, “it’s amazing you haven’t had a meltdown. Next time you feel light-headed or are having trouble breathing, tell me before you pass out.”

“The good thing,” said Iko, “is that with you unconscious, Cress and I were able to run your full diagnostics. Two fixed connections, a new data cable, some reinstalled software, and good as new! Well, except—”

“My hand tools, I know.” Cinder smiled. “But that’s fine. I went five years without a built-in flashlight, I’ll survive now.”

“Yeah, that, but I think there might be some problems with your interface too. The diagnostics showed a few errors with net connectivity and data transfer.”

Cinder’s smile faded. She’d been dependent on her cyborg brain ever since she could remember, relying on her ability to download information, send comms, monitor newsfeeds. It was an uncomfortable feeling to be without it, like part of her brain had been erased.

“I’ll just have to make do,” she said. “I’m alive, and I have two working hands and two working feet. I’ve been in worse shape before.” She glanced from Iko to Cress. “Thank you.”

Cress ducked her head, while Iko tossed her braids over one shoulder. “Oh, you know. I used to apprentice for this brilliant mechanic in New Beijing. She may have taught me a thing or two.”

Cinder laughed.

“Speaking of brilliant mechanics,” Iko said, “do you think you have time to look at my arm now?”