Mark Tiedemann - Chimera

The bin lurched and Nyom nearly fell. Gamelin caught her arm and steadied her.

"No talking," Gamelin announced. "Uses too much air."

Coffee did a second check on the rebreather. Everything read optimal. It straightened and watched Gamelin help Nyom with her straps.

"And the mask-"

"I have my own," Nyom said.

Gamelin hesitated. "Very efficient."

Coffee approached Gamelin. "You did not answer Nyom's question. What model are you?"

"I'm a prototype. I don't have a model designation. "

"Are you Solarian? I am unfamiliar with any Auroran design even in the planning stage from which you might be derived. "

"How long's it been since you were on Aurora?"

"Thirty-six years."

"Things might've changed, don't you think?"

"Very probably. That is why I ask."

"Solarian. Now get to your ready station. We've got ten minutes before the shuttle lifts."

Coffee returned to a place beside the rebreather. Gamelin climbed lithely into one of the couches.

("What happened? The scene shifted…" one of the agents complained. "Coffee shifted briefly to standby," Derec explained. "Nothing recorded during an essentially uneventful period. All telemetry is on, but…")

The cargo bin was in freefall, on a trajectory to Kopernik on board a shuttle. Two or three people groaned. Coffee bent to the rebreather control panel and checked the readings on individual respiration.

"There is a problem," it said.

"What?" Nyom asked. She pulled herself out of the couch and swam quickly to Coffee.

("Where'd she learn to do that?" Rana wondered.)

"The monitor indicates distress," Coffee said. "Breathing is becoming impaired."

"What the-we have a defective rebreather?"

"Nothing's defective," Gamelin said, sliding across the bin. "Everything's working fine."

"I disagree," Coffee said. "According to this-"

"Shut up, tinhead. Time to put on a standard mask, Ms. Looms."

Nyom shot a look at Gamelin. "What are you-"

Gamelin reached for her. She writhed in mid-air and slammed a foot against its chest, launching herself backward. Her shoulders banged into the strutwork supporting a bank of couches.

Gamelin pursued, one arm extended, reaching.

"Stop," Coffee said. "You will cause injury."

"Exactly, " Gamelin said.

Coffee twisted around and grabbed Gamelin's shoulder. Coffee's grip closed on softer material than expected. Gamelin jerked around beneath the grip and pulled free, hissing in clear pain.

Coffee opened its hand and saw, in its enhanced vision, a mass of fabric and dermis mingled thickly with blood.

The scene lurched. Coffee watched, immobile, as Gamelin chased Nyom Looms around the bin, while all around people were moaning louder. Several had ripped off their masks, gasping. Coffee looked down at the rebreather.

("Why doesn't it do something?" one of the agents asked. "It's caught in a dilemma," Rana said. "It just hurt something that might be human. It doesn't know what to do." "Human!")

Suddenly, Gamelin caught Nyom. Coffee looked up to see her struggle briefly while Gamelin got a grip on her head and gave a short, sharp yank. The snap of bone sounded horribly loud.

Gamelin let Nyom's body go and pulled something from its belt. It went to one of the clear surfaces and aimed the tool. A brilliant spark leapt at the bulkhead.

"Stop," Coffee ordered. "You will breach the integrity of the container."

"Stop me, tinhead," Gamelin said. "If you can."

"I-"

Suddenly, Gamelin drew back and punched up. The loud bang filled the chamber. A moment later, he pushed both hands through the crack he had made and heaved. Blood oozed from the wound on his shoulder. Air whistled through the hole.

Gamelin swam back to the robot and came close to its face.

"They'll suffocate if they don't put their masks back on," he said. Then he returned to his couch.

Coffee went from person to person, urging them to replace their masks. Some were already dead, though. coffee seemed to realize then that the rebreather was poisoning them.

It knelt by the unit and tried to run a systems purge. That did not work, so it began stabbing the DISCONNECT; all the while the air inexorably leaked from the small chamber. Everyone stared at the now blank screens, mute, the shock clear on their faces. Derec let out his breath slowly. He looked at Rana.

"What-?"

"So where did that thing go?" Agent Harwol demanded explosively. "Obviously, that's what walked out of your morgue, Chief Palen, right under the noses of your staff and your surveillance."

"Coren said it was invisible to his optam," she said.

"Invisible to your security systems, too?" Derec asked.

She looked frightened. "What is it, Mr. Avery? You're the roboticist. Tell us."

"I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it. Coffee couldn't stop it because it was human. Or seemed human. "

"That?" Harwol exclaimed.

"It bled, Agent Harwol. It was-is-organic. Up to that point, Coffee assumed, as did everyone, that it was a robot…" He blinked. "A cyborg."

"A what?" Rana asked. "I didn't think those were possible."

"Aurora stopped research on them a long time ago. Not because they aren't possible-on the contrary, they are very possible. And much too unpredictable. "

"We're impounding all this material," Agent Harwol declared. "I want every bit of it turned over to us before any more of it goes missing. "

"To do what with?" Derec demanded. "You don't have the first idea what any of this means. "

"And you do? No arguments, Mr. Avery-this material is, now under TBI jurisdiction, and you are under arrest."

"For what?"

"Criminal negligence, for a start. Until we find that robot, I'm holding you responsible. You were working for us on this and an important piece of evidence is missing."

"For the sake of-" Palen said. "Stop it. Just what do you think you're accomplishing by all this?"

"I'm putting the lid on a bad situation on its way to becoming worse, Chief Palen," Harwol barked. "You're suspended, pending an investigation into abuse of authority. You had no mandate to indulge in this sort of an investigation-"

"You're going to make a mess of this whole thing-"

"Enough! I want this lab quarantined and everything in it held in stasis till I decide what to do with it. You have overstepped your authority in this matter, and the TBI is now taking over the investigation."

"Damn it-!" Palen began.

Harwol aimed a finger at her as if it were a weapon.

"Another word, Chief Palen," he said. "One more."

She restrained herself with a visible effort.

"You're an idiot," Derec said. "You could've just asked."

"I'm afraid, Agent Harwol, " Hofton said then, "that you lack the authority to make arrests on Auroran territory."

"Kopernik Station is an Earth Incorporated Zone," Harwol said. "Security is handled by Terran authority under specific treaty, which is why Chief Palen here has the authority to police even the Spacer and Settler areas. I am relieving her of that position and assuming that authority."

"That's thin, Harwol," Palen said. "Really, really thin."

"Maybe, but that's what I'm doing. I can damn well make arrests here, and I damn well will. You may file a complaint through proper channels and it will be considered at that time, but till then I am in charge of station security and you-" he pointed at Derec "-are under arrest." "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know. I was under the impression that Auroran embassy grounds were accorded the same privileges as the main mission. "

Hofton looked agonized. Derec had never seen the man so distraught. He sat on the other side of the narrow holding cell, elbows on knees, shoulders hunched, his face stretched by internal doubt and self-loathing.