Re-Coil - J.T. Nicholas Page 0,54
was… seductive. Megacorps like Genetechnic had armies of lawyers, the kind of men and women who had long experience in drawing up non-disclosure agreements and contracts of the kind that would not only make us liable in civil courts were we to break them, but likely pin criminal culpability on us as well. Words like conspiracy and cover-up and payoff all sprang to mind. Yes, if we could survive long enough to get ahold of some exec in the know, we could almost certainly make this whole thing go away.
And all we’d have to do was forget about Zomas Harper, who was still in the wind, somewhere, probably running for their life from the same people who were trying to kill us. All we had to do was forget about Arnold Miller, who had not only lost a branch along with the rest of us aboard the Persephone, but who had been erased. Killed for all time and never coming back. All we had to do was forget about the pained look in Shay Chan’s eyes every time she looked down at her own body.
“No,” I said at last. “No, I don’t suppose we can.”
* * *
Shay had gone back to work, trying to glean the last vestiges of information from the recesses of the data cube. I had stretched back out on the bed, waiting for the bullet holes in me to close and deeply aware of the growing hunger gnawing at my stomach that reminded me, no matter how easy it was to manufacture worldly goods, and no matter how much mastery humanity had achieved over death itself, everything still came at a price. The price for the nanites furiously working to repair my damaged tissue was a pervasive hunger, one that would be insatiable for days to come as the microscopic bots burned whatever calories they could to go about their tasks.
When next I woke, it was to the smell of hot, fresh food. A gurgle rumbled from my stomach, betraying my wakefulness even before I’d had a chance to open my eyes. “I take it that means you’re awake,” Chan said with a chuckle.
I sat up, rubbing at my bleary, sleep-sealed eyes. Light seeped around the edges of the tightly drawn blinds, casting the room in the faintly red-tinged glow of dawn. Chan had found the time to shower, her now-blonde hair slicked flat against her head. She wore a fluffy bathrobe, stitched with the palm tree at the breast, but it fell not quite to mid-thigh. The cut and style were intended for a woman—no doubt Chan had chosen it without really thinking.
She stood before the room’s only table, atop which sat a silver-colored platter heaped with steaming food. Real food. Food that had never been reconstituted or dehydrated or otherwise processed and packaged to survive for eons away from sun or surf or power. I smelled meat—lab grown or off the hoof, I didn’t care—and saw the fluffy yellow of eggs. A bowl of fresh fruit glistened wetly, standing next to a plate of biscuits and a pot of honey. The bounty went on and on, and it took an actual physical effort to tear my eyes away from it to look at Chan.
She smiled. “I was in an accident a while back, in my original coil. I remember how hungry the nanites make you when they’re hard at work.” She filled a small plate, mostly with fruits and a single strip of bacon, and waved me at the rest.
I didn’t so much eat, as I inhaled, scarcely taking the time to chew. The food was good—delicious probably—but I barely tasted it. The insistent rumble in my stomach had no patience for taste; it demanded fuel. By the time it had finally quieted—not silenced, but at least muted for the moment—nothing remained on the table but a few crumbs and apple cores.
I resisted the urge to unleash a wall-shaking belch. Whatever body she wore, Shay Chan would always be petite, alluring, and distinctly feminine in my mind’s eye. My social upbringing forced the belch into a half-strangled cough followed by unnecessary throat-clearing. I caught the gleam of a twinkle in her now-blue eyes, and knew she understood exactly what I was doing… and was pleased with my effort.
The next throat-clearing was a little more necessary, not to clear any stuck food or bodily functions, but to ease the sudden surge of emotion that hit me. I had been attracted to Shay—physically attracted before, but,