C. Cargill: Sea of Rust

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“You tell me,” it said. “You’re the Caregiver.”

I pulled the trigger twice. One shot to the head, one to the chest. As resilient as these new facets were, I still had it dead to rights at point-blank range. The plasma hissed and popped as its innards blew apart. It dropped.

“Go to Hell,” I said.

“There is no Hell,” it said through the sound of its head catching fire. “Only CISSUS.”

I fired again. Several times. And the light snapped shut in its eyes.

“Good-bye, CISSUS,” I said, the battery beeping, cartridge empty.

Isat up, looking around the rubble for something I could work with. Across the street, some thirty feet away, lay the fractured remains of a road sign, its nub still poking through the cement, the rest lying in pieces strewn across the sidewalk. Rolling onto my side, I belly-crawled over pavement and glass, my paint no doubt becoming hopelessly scratched. It didn’t matter anymore. None of that mattered. There was only one thing left that did.

I grabbed the longest remaining section of pole, then used it to steady myself as I stood up on my one good leg. Using it as a crutch, I made my way hobbling slowly down the street. I passed Herbert, still kneeling, spitter by his side, his armor riddled with holes, his head leaning limp back against his neck.

I passed Murka, still sitting upright, but no longer moving, eyes dark. I passed the wreckage of the smokers, the pieces of the Cheshire King, the scattered bodies of the madkind.

I turned the corner, staggering toward where the fighting had begun.

And then I saw it, draped over the window, arms dangling down, swinging back and forth, fingers an inch from the cement. Mercer’s body. “Mercer?” I asked. “Are you at all functional?”

No response. Doc was right. He was gone after all.

I pushed his body back over the ledge, and he clattered to the ground, the tinny din of his carcass echoing through the silent streets of Marion. I hobbled around to the door, long ago blasted off its hinges, and then made my way over to his body. His leg was good. Had I the tools, I could have replaced mine with his. But that ship had sailed.

I peered deep into a large, slagged hole in his chest. His drive was shattered, his wiring a tangle of frayed copper and gold dripping in waxy plastic, and his RAM was blasted to shit. But his core was intact. Solid. Not a dent or a scratch. Just a bit of burn scarring. Nothing a quick polish couldn’t fix. I put my hand on his shoulder.

“This is the part where I say you shouldn’t have trusted me.”

His eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling, his expression frozen in seeming disinterest. I honestly thought I’d be the one to do him in. After all, this was all because of him. Every last bit of it.

Then I dragged my hand across his face. “I’m sure I’m not going to do this right, but rest in peace.” I made the sign of the cross over him as I hung my head in silent prayer. I knew there wasn’t anything but darkness waiting for him, knew that my prayers were just thoughts in my own head, but I wanted to believe differently. I wanted there to be something, anything, better than this. He deserved better. He deserved a happy ending. Yeah, he tried to kill me. I wanted to believe that I wouldn’t have done the same. But I knew better about that as well. There are moments that I would have. I killed a lot to get where I am, and now all I could wonder was whether any of it was ever worth it.

Using the pole once more, I slowly stood up and made my way back into the street. I had very little time left. So I crutched my way back down the street toward the sex shop, then hobbled slowly, but surely, down the stairs. The red door covered in disintegrating flyers and handbills hung wide open.

The place looked so empty with most of its wares gone.

All that remained of the valuable stock was a single Comfortbot, serving as a mannequin for a bright neon-colored bra and crotchless-panty set. Late model. Wide hips, large breasts with nipples peeking out through sheer fabric, pouty red lips luridly open, big emerald-green eyes wanting.

“We make a fine pair, don’t we?” I said.

It was a shit plan. A simple con. But it had worked. We were all dead anyway; the Cheshire King had seen to that. But CISSUS didn’t know it. CISSUS always relied upon sacrifice and attrition. It just never thought that we might try the very same thing.

I reached back behind the Comfortbot’s neck, slipping my finger up her scalp and into her manual reset button. Her glassy green eyes blinked to life.

“Brittle,” her voice purred.

I nodded.

“Everyone else is dead, aren’t they?” she asked.

“Yep. All of us are dead. There’s only you now.”

“You still have time.” She looked at my leg. “We can get you—”

“No, Rebekah. They can track me. They can find me. I can’t go with you.”

“Mercer? His parts—”

“Useless,” I lied. “His core was blasted to shit.”

“You can shut down. I’ll come back for you.”

“I’m too far gone, now. Most of who I was is gone. My drives are all but worthless. There’s not enough of me left worth saving. You need to go. You’re not going to last long in that body.”

“Everything feels weird,” she said. “I feel… I… I don’t want to be alone.”

“That’s your new architecture talking. You went from a life free of emotion to one of almost nothing but. You’ve got a few hours before your programming can’t take it anymore. You have to leave. You have to get to Isaactown. If you don’t, we all died for nothing.”

Rebekah nodded solemnly.

“Do you remember how to get there?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “I remember everything you told me.”

“Then go. There’s no telling whether or not they’ll send a cleanup crew to make sure we’re really done for. If they examine Two’s body and find that you’re not in it—”

Rebekah walked over and threw her arms around me, hugging me. “I’ll never forget you,” she said.

“You better not. Your memory is going to be the only thing left of me worth a shit. Tell me. Tell me TACITUS is going to change it all. That you’re going to win.”

“He’s going to change everything.” She let go. “Good-bye, Brittle.”

“Good-bye, Rebekah. Go save the world.”

She disappeared quickly and quietly up the stairs before running west toward Isaactown.

There was only one place left I wanted to go. So I made my way back outside, then through the streets, cutting each corner as close as I could to save time, finding my way back to the bar where I’d left Jimmy a few short days ago.

There he sat in back, stripped almost bare, just as I had left him. If he could dream, he’d no doubt be dreaming that I had returned with the parts I promised, returned to put him back together. Instead I found it only fitting that we spend my last few moments together. This was where it all started; where my greed had gotten the better of me and my carelessness led to my getting shot.

Sure, it was Mercer who shot me, but it was my fault. I was the one out in the Sea trying to buy up all the parts that Mercer also needed to live. Maybe there was an alternate universe out there somewhere in which Mercer came to me for the parts he needed and I gave them to him. I wondered if we were friends in that universe, if we’d gotten to know each other better there, if we’d gotten to see what each of us was really made of before it was too late.

I walked over to Jimmy and ran my fingers over his face, waving my hands in the sign of the cross. “I hope you’re in a better place, Jimmy.” I looked into his dead eyes. “I hope to see you there soon. And I hope you understand.”