Asaro, Catherine AI 1 Sunrise Alley

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forward, so they all went to the couch. Sam sank onto it, and the cushions responded to her tension far
more adeptly than her own semi-smart furniture. It still didn't help, though.
An armchair stood at the end of the couch, facing in. Turner sat down in it, his body so taut that Sam
doubted the chair could make him comfortable, either. Seeing his haunted expression, she felt like a
fraud. She had promised him refuge. But she didn't see what else they could have done. Contacting the
NIA may have led Charon to them, but they would have been even more exposed had they spent hours
on an unprotected highway driving the Lost Coast of northern California, with its plunging gorges, dense
forests, and lonely cliffs.
"I'm sorry this happened," Sam said to him.
"It's not your fault," he said. "We're facing an expert. Maybe no one can outwit him."
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Sam had no intention of giving up. "We'll see."
Raze and the steward took up positions on either side of the couch. Then the pilot came back and stood
behind Turner's chair. All three guards waited in silence, imposing and solid, with no expression. Sam
wished they didn't look so blasted effective.
With no warning, the wall behind the console shimmered and faded into a doorway. It was dark beyond,
making it hard to see the person entering the room until she stepped into the light. Black hair brushed
her shoulders and her dark eyes slanted upward. She wore a form-fitting black jumpsuit that did nothing
to hide her devastatingly well-toned figure. Her black knee-boots added several more inches to her
six-foot height. The belt around her narrow waist glimmered with silver mesh-threads, and a pulse gun
rode snug in a holster at her hip.
"Good Lord," Turner muttered.
"You know her?" Sam asked.
"Never seen her before." He looked alarmed. "Believe me, I would remember."
The surge of jealousy that hit Sam startled her; she hadn't realized she had begun to think about Turner
as hers. More than anything else, that convinced her he was a man; she couldn't imagine any machine
evoking such a powerful response in her.
The woman stalked over to them, cool and menacing. Sam stood up, feeling puny in comparison to this
new phenomenon. As Turner rose to his feet, the woman looked them up, down, and over. She stopped
on the other side of the coffee table and considered them with her hands on her hips. Her unusual height
made Sam excruciatingly aware of her slight build and wild hair. She had nothing on this sleek, perfect
person. She felt as if she were being judged and discarded.
"Are you Charon?" Sam asked.
The woman gave a husky laugh. "Not even close."
Sam wished she didn't feel so cold. "So when is he showing up?"
The woman shrugged. "If he wishes to come, he will. For now I am your host."
Sam looked her up and down the same way the woman had done to them, though she doubted she
intimidated anyone, let alone this mercenary goddess. "Who are you?"
"You may call me Alpha."
"Alpha?" Personally, Sam thought someone this unique deserved a more original nickname than the first
letter of the Greek alphabet. Maybe Alpha was an android, first of a series, followed by Beta, Gamma,
Delta, ad nauseum. Sam had never heard of anyone building such a magnificent forma, though.
Alpha spoke to the steward. "I'll take the android with me. You stay here with Dr. Bryton."
"I'm not a goddamned android," Turner said.
Sam wished she wasn't so far from Turner. She felt small as they stood facing all these large, muscular
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people. No doubt the effect was intentional. Mental games had never worked well on Sam, but this was
reaching even her limit. She was terrified they would end up dead. Or worse.
"Turner and I stay together," she said.
"Is that so?" Alpha smiled, her teeth glittering literally. They had the same prismatic quality as the table.
"Turner, don't be difficult. Charon could take you apart and put you together however he wants."
His gaze darkened. "I know."
"Then behave yourself and come with me."
He clenched one fist at his side. "No."
With surreal calm, Alpha drew her gun and fired.
The bullet shattered the table in front of Sam and sent glass flying. She whipped her arm in front of her
face, staggering as shards rained over her. The back of her calves hit the couch and her legs buckled,
collapsing her onto the cushions. Alpha must have intended to hit the table; she couldn't have missed at
this range.
Turner lunged toward Sam. "Get her a doctor!"
Alpha pointed her gun at him. When he froze, she said, "Stay put."
"A doctor?" Sam asked. Baffled, her heart racing, she rose to her feet. "Why?"
For some reason, the steward came over and put his hand under her elbow. She pulled away from him.
"Sheis a doctor," Alpha said, obviously amused. "An EI shrink, no less. You need therapy, Turner?"
He looked ready to strangle her. "Get help, damn it."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked. She meant to say more, but an unexpected dizziness stopped
her. The steward tried to make her sit down and Turner gave him a murderous look.
"Everyone, stop." Sam's left arm had begun to hurt. She peered down
Blood covered her forearm.
"Oh." Sam dropped onto the couch. Gashes covered her arm and she felt blood running over the skin.
She suddenly thought she would lose her rushed dinner of hot dogs.
Carefully, with no sudden movements, Turner stepped over and knelt at her side on the couch. He took
her hand. "Don't protest anymore. I'll go with them."
"Turner " She stopped when he laid two fingers over her lips.
"I thank you for standing by me," he said. "But I refuse to be responsible for your death."
"They won't kill me." She meant to sound confident, but her voice wobbled.
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He squeezed her hand, his gaze caressing her face, as if he would memorize it now, in case he never saw
it again. "You've guts, Sam, but courage won't stop bullets. Promise me you won't challenge them."
Sam started to answer, but a wave of dizziness stopped her. She closed her eyes and sat very still,
fending off the nausea.
When feet rustled on the carpet, she looked to see Alpha and Raze taking away Turner.
VI
Rendezvous
The medic finished bandaging Sam's arm. "It should heal quickly. But go easy for a few days." He
pressed the bio-gauze more securely into place. It molded to her skin, matching it in color. The
mesh-threads woven through it would tell it when to dispense medicine. Slumped on the couch, she was
all too aware now of the pain she hadn't felt before. Alpha had shredded her forearm. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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