her sigh fills the room. “And how may this humble warrior be of service to you?”
To Sarya’s judging eyes, Hood’s every move proves that he knows nothing of Widows. He does not respond to the threat that Shenya the Widow just casually dropped. Instead, he makes a show of trust, a let’s be reasonable, as if Widows are ever reasonable where their daughters are concerned. With a click and a whirr, his dented faceplate splits and slides open to reveal a pale and wrinkled face in the red light. His four eyes are much larger than they appear through the slots of his mask, and they squint even in this dim illumination. His face is strangely vulnerable looking, embedded in the rest of the metal that makes up his body.
[I have come to relieve you of a burden], he says. His attitude is hesitant and respectful, far more so than it was in Dock A. Good.
Behind him, in the trembling tension of the corridor, the Network is supersaturated with fear and anger. There is so much sentiment being transferred from mind to mind that it is condensing out into spoken Standard. These are her neighbors, her fellow citizens, and they are speaking her name like it’s a curse. Maybe worse, there is another word tumbling through this flood of emotion. It’s said fearfully, hatefully, spat rather than spoken.
Human.
Sarya watches and listens, slowly flexing the fingers where her blades should be. She takes each statement into herself, quietly and methodically, and finds a place for it in her burning heart. I hear you, says Sarya the Daughter. I hear all of you.
[Your secret is out, Widow], says Hood. [It must go.]
“She,” hisses Shenya the Widow aloud, “has rights.”
Hood’s too-large eyes blink in sequence, first top and then bottom. [It is a non-Citizen with a false registration], he says. [Which means it does not, in fact, have rights. It also makes you a lawbreaker.]
And then with a motion too quick for Sarya to see, Hood goes for it. In an instant, his whiplike arm is wrapped around her mother’s gleaming thorax, and her mother is screaming at a frequency that Sarya can barely hear. Hood holds her up in the center of the room, her blades ricocheting, useless, off his metal surfaces. She slashes at his eyes, but they are just out of range. His legs take a step forward to support his weight as the heavy arm rises off the floor. A hand nearly as big as Shenya’s entire body cradles her head.
[I have no respect for lawbreakers], says Hood. [But I do not wish to kill you. You may still give it up willingly.]
Outside the room, drones are beginning to gather. They murmur to one another, fretting about this threat of violence. They send peaceful messages on the public channel, but they cannot fit through the door behind Hood. No, the Network can do nothing here; this is bounty hunter versus Widow.
“I am her mother,” hisses Sarya’s mother, attempting to struggle. To her daughter, watching in her room, the meaning is clear. A mother would die before giving up her daughter. Which means there is nothing to discuss.
[Be reasonable], says Hood. [I am reasonable. Those who come after me may not be.]
“She is a person,” hisses Shenya the Widow, struggling in a grasp that Sarya knows too well. “And she is my child. My bond. I brought her out of darkness.”
Barely three meters away, Sarya’s mouth drops open. I brought her out of darkness. It’s an ancient Widow phrase, one of many. Her mother has said it to her countless times, sometimes lovingly and sometimes with that unique black irony that mothers use when their daughters misbehave: I brought you out of darkness, and I can send you back in. But why now? Is Shenya the Widow saying something else? Does she know her daughter is listening?
Or is this Sarya’s own idea?
Sarya drops into a crouch before the prosthetic on the ground. With trembling fingers, she opens its Network interface. She mouths the words as she swipes through options. I brought her out of darkness. She works quickly. She disables safeties. She confirms. She takes responsibility when asked. Yes, she’s sure. No, she doesn’t want to watch a presentation on environment safety.
In the common room, Hood sighs. [I do not wish this], he says. [But these intelligences shall bear witness: I did everything in my power to dissuade you.]
Multiple assents appear via Network. Sarya watches from her room