Commander Up. But instead you were saved, brought back
to life by a man who – unless I’m wrong – has convictions
you don’t agree with, using the kind of controversial
technology that pioneered your enemies.”
“You’re not going to ask me how I feel about that, are
you?”
Dr. Renley eyed him. “Just doing my job, Commander.”
“I should have died,” Up said. “Doesn’t that say it all?”
Beatriz’ tender heart could not bear it any longer. Too
many had died for her, needlessly, recklessly. Her beauty
was a curse. If only she had been born ugly, plain. Don
Martin would never have loved her, nor any of the others –
loneliness would be better than this guilt-ridden fate.
The brazier was red-hot and filled with coals, water
sizzling into air as her tears fell upon them. The curtains
were closed, her bedroom sweltering. Beatriz sent up a
silent prayer as she knelt above the brazier, her perfect face
raised toward the heavens. She choked back a sob, and
pushed her face into the fire.
“Maybe we should go back to dancing,” Up said,
twirling a noodle on his fork, forcing his robot hand to learn
the simple movement, practising it over and over.
They were eating dinner in the hospital cafeteria. Taz
looked up, but he kept his eyes downcast. He couldn’t bear
to see the bruises on her face and know that he had done
nothing to prevent them.
“Dancing helped you get your mobility back,” she said.
“But you can’t dance a robot to death. How are you going
to get back on active duty without learning how to fight
again?”
“Maybe-” He didn’t want to say it. “Maybe I’ll never be
able to fight again. Maybe I can’t go back on active duty,