Didi and the Gunslinger Read online

  “ACKNOWLEDGED, GUNSLINGER.” This mechcop has a different look to it, more sleek than the ones she’s seen, almost modern. And with some kind of badge or logo etched in red and gold letters on its turret. “STAND DOWN.”

  “NEGATIVE.” The gunslinger keeps running past the mechcop. “DANGER IMMINENT. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY.”

  “UNDERSTOOD.” The mechcop’s turret whines as it spins around. “SCANNING. SHIELDING HAS FAILED. BOLE ATTACK UNDERWAY.”

  Didi dearly wishes they would stop shouting. Her head is aching and her body, too, from the gunslinger bouncing her around. Or, is that the ground bouncing? More thunderous explosions from below, and screaming even her aching ears can make out.

  Bo made good on his threat. But he’s put them all in terrible danger. Even more so now she sees the condition of the elevator. Or lack thereof. A giant, smoking hole is all that’s left of the unit, destroyed by the descent of the mechcop.

  Plasma fire blasts over her head, the turret of the mechcop wobbling in response to the attack. The gunslinger ignores the gunfire and heads for the shaft while Didi reaches for Dad’s hand. She knows what’s coming, Pip flapping on her shoulder, and he has to be with her when the cyborg lifts off.

  She sees grasps him tight, feels the thrusters fire. And knows, in that moment, only one of them will make it to the top as Jackus leaps out of the smoke and grasps hold of Dad around the waist. Bo completes the chain, leaping on Jackus. The weight is just too much for the gunslinger’s damaged systems. She knows the moment Dad makes the decision, screams out for him when he pulls free of her hand. And she fights the gunslinger when he lifts off, rising to the surface like a rocket.

  “GO BACK!” It’s her turn to shout.

  Too late. She loses sight of Dad and Jackus and Bo as the gunslinger hurtles to the surface

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Didi chokes on the smoke rising from the hole as the gunslinger bursts to the surface and flies her out the rubbled interior of the bar and into the street. Sirens blaze in the morning air, the sound of desperate terror that is the throbbing warning shaking the whole city.

  Bo’s plan. It’s put the entirety of Trash City in danger.

  The gunslinger sets her down a block from the bar front. Didi immediately kicks and punches at him, screaming incoherently. They have to go back! But, when she tries to force her way past him, sobbing and shaking, he stops her.

  “I promised him I would keep you safe,” the gunslinger says with regret in his voice.

  “And you promised me you would rescue him!” She screams in his face. “I HATE YOU.”

  He flinches. “I will fulfill my promise, Didi Duke,” he says, subdued as the sirens continue their horrible claxon. “You have my word.” He flies away from her, back toward the bar. Didi bends in half, coughing out the smoke that wafts down the street, choking her. She runs, boots thudding on the ground, to the bar front, but it’s on fire, flames gushing from it, smoke billowing and she’s forced back.

  Her goggles lower over her eyes, boots humming to life. At least she can see. Pip mutters sadly and anxiously in her ear while she hugs herself tight and waits, waits, waits.

  Shining silver bursts into view out of the fire and smoke, landing smoothly at her side. Bo Rylen collapses at her feet, coughing, near unconsciousness. Didi doesn’t have a chance to chastise the gunslinger who is gone again, into the black and the flames.

  Didi ignores Bo who rolls over onto his back, still coughing. Let him. This is his fault. She had it all under control, the blikey idiot. She stumbles as the ground beneath her heaves, a building at the end of the block swaying. Screaming citizens finally take the claxon seriously, pouring out of their homes and businesses, running down the street in terrified herds of fleeing humanity. She grabs Bo and hauls him with all her strength out of the way, against the side of a trembling building made of trash, though if he is trampled, well that saves her from killing him herself.

  And she wants the pleasure.

  Another silver vision shoots out of the hole, but this time it’s the mechcop. It hovers over the street a moment, booming voice adding to the mayhem.

  “CITIZENS. BOLE ATTACK IN PROGRESS. RETREAT TO DESIGNATED SAFE AREAS IMMEDIATELY IN AN ORDERLY FASHION.”

  Didi can’t help but laugh as the people ignore the shouting tin can and continue to shriek and flee down the street.

  Satisfied, she guesses, its message has been heard, the mechcop streaks upward into the sky and disappears. Fury wakes in her heart, her first seed of real hate for the Galactic Conjunction sown.

  “Coward,” she snarls. “Good riddance.”

  Surely it’s following orders. But, she’s human enough—and young enough—and tired, dirty, beat up and worn out by conflict enough she holds a grudge, by blikey.

  She’s giving up hope, hates that about herself, dancing on the toes of her boots, Pip flapping to keep his balance while Bo finally gets a handle on his coughing and pulls himself to his feet.

  “Didi,” he says, face dirty and full of shock. “I guess I blew it.”

  She hates puns. “Shut up,” she says.

  Bo glances at the store front but doesn’t try to drag her away. He’s smart, at least. She’ll claw his eyes out before she’ll let him pull her away. “I’m sorry. I had a hold of Tarvis, but… Jackus hit me and I…” He shakes his head, fingers a lump on his temple. “The gunslinger?”

  She doesn’t spare him a glance. “Saved your sorry behind,” she says, bitterness sharp and hurtful, “and left my dad in there.”

  Bo shifts his weight from foot to foot, the strained silence between them growing. “The boles are coming.” She can feel the street shifting, the pressure of their approach. She’s not leaving. He can run, as cowardly as the mechcop. And she’ll never, ever, speak to him again. Will kill him the moment she sets eyes on him if he leaves her here.

  He doesn’t. She’s surprised by that, but doesn’t say anything to him. He hasn’t earned her respect.

  It’s Pip who makes her the angriest while she staggers under the impact of something just below the surface.

  “Didi!” The crow leaps from her shoulder, flaps awkwardly a few times, his damaged body lumbering and ungainly. “We have to go!”

  He’s right, she knows he’s right, but she won’t leave, not without Dad. All of this has been for her father. An entire city at risk, an invention handed over to an Underlord that could alter the course of power in the galaxy.

  How can she abandon him now?

  She’s about to. Guilt will eat her alive forever because she knows in the quiet, hurtful part of her soul she’s a heartbeat from turning and running away. A giant, tentacled head bursts from the center of the street, the biggest bole she’s ever seen lurching to the surface with a bellow louder than the claxon’s warning.

  Her heart stops beating and her feet clench, body tensed to run. Just as a flash of silver from the smoke turns into the form of the gunslinger. Carrying something in his arms.

  She sobs as the cyborg comes to a harsh halt in front of her, shifting unconscious Dad to one arm and lifting her into the other. Bo waves at the gunslinger.

  “I’m right behind you!” The young thief runs immediately, heading down the street away from the bole now lumbering toward them. Didi stares into its pink, writhing muzzle as the gunslinger lifts off and fires his thrusters, the bole screaming its agony as the plasma crisps its hungry mouth.

  “You did it.” She hugs the gunslinger around the neck, sobbing uncontrollably, barely able to get the words out but unable to stop herself from repeating them over and over. “You did it. You did it.”

  “As you asked,” he says, calm and kind. A burst of thrusters carries them over the heads of the fleeing populace. She sees the shining ship hovering over the ground as he clears the edge of the city, knows he’s taking her there even as he speaks. “The Conjunction’s forces will take care of you,” he says. “I was unable to apprehend the Underlord, and the machi
ne was gone when I found your father.” He stops at the edge of the city, sets her down, and lays Dad gently on the ground. “But I did retrieve this from Tarvis Duke before he became unconscious.” Didi accepts the golden chip from the gunslinger, her throat closing over in gratitude. “And now, Didi, my time is up.”

  She stares at him, the world she knows crumbling behind her, shining ship waiting ahead, unable to comprehend what he’s saying.

  “I must escape the atmosphere,” he says, gentle and with caring, one hand falling on her free shoulder, “before I complete the job Bo Rylen began.”

  His self-destruct. Panic hits her. “Don’t go. I’ll fix it!”

  The gunslinger shakes his head. “There is no fixing this. Goodbye, Didi Duke. Thank you for allowing me this one last chance to be a gunslinger.”

  She leaps at him before he can leave her, slamming open the hatch on his chest. The cyborg’s thrusters fire, his hands gently but firmly forcing her away. But, she’s faster than him, this time, his speed interrupted by his need not to hurt her. Didi’s quick fingers release the chip in his chest and pop it free.

  The gunslinger’s thruster power dies, his head falling forward. “You have doomed this planet,” he says, voice falling away and dying as the blue light in his body goes dark.

  “No,” she whispers, circling around behind him and opening the panel to his bole heart. She jerks it out of him, tossing it aside before boosting herself onto his back and opening his helmet. The brain inside pulses ever so slightly. “This will either kill us all, or shut you down. And you deserve the chance to live.” Fear making her fingers quiver, she pinches off the feed to his plas-coated brain until the pulsing stops.

  Didi steps away, waits. Screaming, fire and smoke, the upheaval of the ground behind her, city crumbling in on itself, none of it pulls her attention from the gunslinger. Heart pounding, she waits to a twenty count before retrieving the heart and sliding it back into the slot in his torso.

  Sluggish, painfully it seems, the tubes reconnect, though the faint, stuttering beat of the heart tells her she might have gone too far. Didi leaps up again, wiggles the hose to his brain, encouraging the flow to return.

  “Too much,” Pip whispers.

  “My behind,” Didi snarls. Something silver is flashing toward her from the ship but she ignores it. She has a job to finish. The chip she inserts in the gunslinger’s chest shines gold.

  He deserves the best.

  Nothing happens. The mechcop who comes for her, landing beside her, ready to take her into custody, doesn’t understand tears. Least of all, not over a girl weeping while a gunslinger stands over her, silent and proud, the last of his kind.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Didi paces the small—if lovely—room where she’s spent her last two days, knowing every corner and cranny of the ship-board accommodations as though she was born to them by now. While a part of her can appreciate clean clothing and the fact they had real water—real water!—to shower in under a powerful nozzle in the suite’s bathroom, she can’t help but feel like a prisoner.

  They assure her she’s not as often as possible. From the lovely young man with the white streak in his hair who delivers her meals (How are you today, Miss Duke? I hope you’re hungry!) to the cheerful woman who supervises the two bots who clean her room (How gorgeous you are this morning, Miss Duke!) to the hyper caring and eager young woman who Didi considers her personal handler. All of them, endlessly, despite the fact every time she tries to leave this light, airy room on board the Galactic Conjunction vessel, the G.C.S. Melville, Didi is firmly but kindly told no.

  She’s tired of no.

  The curtains on her make-believe window eddy in time with the small fan embedded in the wall to mimic wind. If only they understood such surroundings didn’t make her feel calm or relaxed or at home. This odd place is about as much like home as the trash rat warren or the cargo bay where she found the gunslinger. She’s never—outside of vids—encountered anything this sumptuous. The clothes are soft and always fresh, the bed squishy—too much for her liking. Though, the first time she laid her head down, that morning she was brought here, she was happy enough for the shower, for the clean clothing and the soft, soft bed. But, now it irritates her, even more so since she’s used to her freedom.

  She would trade a hundred rooms like this, luxurious carpets under her bare feet or not, for a chance to stomp the trash yards in her boots.

  They are gone, taken away with the rest of her things. Not that it really matters, she supposes. Once they let her go, she can remake her goggles, the boots, her protections. She can’t imagine wanting to put those horrible clothes back on anyway, not after everything she put them through.

  And yet, there’s a burr under her skin, a need to be off and doing something that won’t leave her alone.

  Pip isn’t much help, but not for the obvious reason. The silly crow has taken a shine to this life, she can tell. Maybe it’s the endless baths he’s been taking, soaking his feathers for hours on end—a good thing his plastanium parts won’t rust. Or the seeds and berries and fruit he consumes in such quantities she’s not sure he’ll be able to fly if she doesn’t get him out of here soon.

  Didi collapses on the low sofa near the fake window and sighs into the view of a bright, green meadow, chin on her fist. They won’t let her see outside, either. That bothers her a great deal. For all she knows, they are in space by now, flying somewhere she’s never been before, though her handler, Parkay, assures her they are still on Trash Heaven.

  Speak of the devil, the bouncy, enthusiastic energy of the tall, skinny blonde as she enters the room with a flourish puts Didi’s teeth on edge. She’s tried being nice, being bored. Maybe it’s time to be mean. But, she can’t bring herself to do so when Parkay lands on the sofa beside her like a floating feather, fanning her lovely face with the edge of her hand and beaming a perfect smile at Didi. She’s never seen anyone with skin so pale and perfect, except in vids. She has to be part plas.

  “My sweet Didi,” Parkay says in her singsong voice. “How are you, darling pet?”

  Didi chokes on a rude reply. So maybe she can be mean if she really wants to be. “When can I see my father?”

  Parkay’s face falls, a moue of sorrow replacing her smile. “Aren’t you even the teensy tiniest bit happy to see me?”

  Didi sighs long and hard. “Parkay! What a surprise. Lovely to see you. Take me to my dad.”

  The handler laughs, one long fingered hand landing on her bared cleavage, glittering ring shimmering against the silky pink dress she wears.

  “My Didi,” she says, leaning forward to place that same hand on Didi’s knee. “Always making me laugh.” She sits back and shakes her head, smooth, blonde hair shimmering. “And here I thought I was bringing good news.”

  Didi perks. “Such as?” She really wants to get out of here. “A tour of the ship?”

  Another pout. “No, darling pet. But, your friend, the handsome one with the delicious smile, has come on board at last.”

  Bo? What is he doing here? “Why?” She intends to be blunt, stands and strides away, scowling, arms crossed over her chest. She’s had enough of him.

  “Why, Didi,” Parkay chastises her with her voice. “He’s brought the most interesting and helpful information about the Underlord, Murta. We were more than happy to reunite you two in exchange for what he had to say.”

  Didi spins. “She escaped?”

  Parkay stands, shrugs delicately. “A pity, really. But not the kind of conversation I wanted to have with you today.” She approaches Didi, straightens the collar on her white shirt. Didi knows what’s coming and resists another sigh. “Once we catch her, maybe then you can tell us what she was after?”

  It’s her only resistance and the reason she’s sure they won’t let her near her father. She’s told them nothing of his invention and refuses to. It’s all she has left. The gunslinger is gone, though she’s sure he didn’t self-destruct so her
plan to save him worked. And he has the chip in his chest. Without Dad’s machine, there’s no way the G.C. will figure out what it’s for. She’s not sure why playing dumb is important, except that feeling like a prisoner makes her angry. And angry Didi doesn’t do as she’s told.

  They could have asked her father that.

  Someone knocks on the door and Parkay turns, a wide smile returning. “Ah! Our guest. Do come in, won’t you?”

  Didi braces herself to hate him the moment she sets eyes on him again, but Bo’s easy smile and sheepish expression stirs her heart. She shouldn’t forgive him for betraying her, for messing up everything with his stupid, wild plan that just blew up half the city. But he’s a familiar face and she can’t resist his smile.

  That’s going to be a problem, she’s sure of it.

  Pip rises from the white tablecloth with a grape in his mouth and squawks at her visitor. “Thief,” he snaps.

  “Look who’s talking.” Bo points a finger at the crow and pulls the trigger on his air gun before facing off with Didi. He runs one big hand through his hair, nodding to Parkay. She looks back and forth between Didi and Bo before clasping her hands in front of her and sighing.

  “Young love,” she says in her airy voice to which Didi chokes and Bo snorts. “I’ll leave you two to catch up.” The handler sweeps toward the door, pink dress swirling around her ankles. She pauses at the exit to fix Didi with her crystal blue eyes. “We’ll talk again later, darling pet,” she says and leaves.

  Didi shudders and fakes a gag. “That woman makes me crazy.”

  Bo grins. “She’s kind of hot.”

  Didi’s face pinches tight. Cretin. “What are you doing here?”

  He feigns hurt, one hand on his chest, before helping himself to a big pile of fruit. His booted feet hit her table, ankles crossing while he settles in to his snack. “I wanted to make sure you were all right, of course.”