Chapter 15: G.S. 1275

His blue eyes darken, go dead, his entire system shutting down. Didi grinds her teeth together in frustration as he dies, kicking the metal under her boots as she hisses soft curses to herself.

She should have just left well enough alone. Now see what she's done. But, even as she chastises herself for rushing into activation on a machine that's been in stasis for over fifty years, blue flares in his panels and eyes again and his entire body shudders.

It's an impressive sight, over six and a half feet of plastanium shivering like a wind chime in a strong wind. Didi holds her breath, heart pounding as the gunslinger shifts his feet, head lowering, one hand rising to press to the side of his face plate. Is he human under there still? She knows some of the gunslingers retained their faces, parts of their bodies used to augment the bond between metal and flesh. He might have a normal skeleton in places, even muscles and tendons, nerve endings bonded to the inside of the plastanium. From the schematics she's studied, the creators did their best to make sure the gunslingers felt as much as possible, finding that their humanity was the best defense against mental degradation.

He groans softly, hand falling to his side with a soft clang as he looks up and stares at her.

"Hello," he says, voice soft. "I'm G.S. 1275. Are you in need of assistance?"

She almost cries. Her throat closes over, both hands rising to cover her mouth, cutting off her sob of relief as she nods and nods and nods at the gunslinger.

"Can you tell me your name?" His voice is kind, though stiff, as though he hasn't used it in a long time. Well, he hasn't, has he? He looks around a moment, seems to freeze. "And where we are?"

"Didi." She chokes out her name, takes a breath and tries again as Pip lands on her shoulder and rubs his cheek against hers in comfort. "Didi Duke."

"Hello, Didi Duke." The gunslinger's servos hum gently as he reaches out one hand to her. She shakes it in stunned silence, amazed at how warm his plastanium now feels, at how gentle his touch is. As his hand drops again, his arm jerks, twitches, falls. "I seem to be experiencing some glitches in my systems," he says, apologetic of all things. She almost giggles, feels the hysterical reaction hopping and jumping in her solar plexus. Trampolining bubbles of humor she's sure will turn into uncontrolled sobbing if she lets them out.

"Sorry about that," she says, gesturing at his chest. "Your fission chip is damaged. And there was some brain tissue loss."

He nods, chin tilting sideways and, for the life of her, she feels him looking inward. "Understood," he says. Is that regret? Her heart twists. She wasn't expecting him to appear so human. He's a suit of metal and plastic. But his brain is like hers. "Bypassing."

"You can do that?" Fascination finally wins over panic and fear at what she's done.

"My systems are designed to function at a sixteenth of capacity," he says. "Battlefield requirements."

Right. So he can keep fighting and killing even if he's damaged. "Will it make it hard for you to function?"

He has no lungs, but she swears he sighs. "No," he says, straightening then, saluting her gently. "I am now fully functional within reduced parameters." She needs to know what those are, but it can wait. Right now, they have to get out of this cargo bay. She's suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she's not only reactivated a gunslinger, a criminal offense, she's certain, but she's done so in a hidden bunker where Jackus could return at any moment.

She grins then, feeling evil delight grow inside her. Well then, what's her hurry after all?

"Do you know what happened to you?" Pip's red eye hasn't stopped whirring.

"Deactivation occurred 52 standard years ago," he says. "Earth calendar time." He hesitates, though whether because of his damaged brain or another reason Didi can't guess. "With the development of our mech replacements and the proven unreliability of the gunslinger model, all G.S. units were decommissioned on Earth and their physical bodies interred as due their honor." He looks down at his hands. "And yet, I seem to be here."

Interesting. She knew that part about his history. So what were a cargo hold of gunslingers doing here on Trash Heaven? They were half a galaxy from Earth.

"Thank you for reviving me, Didi," he says. "I have spent the last half a century wondering when my final end would come."

Pip coughs in her ear. "You were aware?"

"The presence of my chip ensured the survival of my human brain," he says. So matter- of-fact, though Didi's chest compresses in sympathy. All those years of quiet and solitude. "It was my understanding I might be of further assistance, with the passage of time and no final rest."

She's grateful, no matter the reason for his continued existence. "Speaking of which," Didi says as Pip flaps his agitation against the side of her head. "I could use your help."

"The mission?" He seems willing to listen, so Didi dives into her story, telling him about Dad and the Underlord and all the things she's been hanging onto. She doesn't mean to meander or weep or even mention Jackus, but it all pours out and she can't stop herself once she starts.

When she's done, she's wiping the last of her tears and snot away from her face with the hem of her glove, spent and exhausted from the task, but feeling better for it.

The gunslinger has been silent the entire time. When she finally finishes, his body shifts toward her and he gently, oh-so-gently, pats her free shoulder with one giant hand.

"I'm so sorry for your troubles," he says.

She looks up at him, startled by the gesture and the kindness in his voice. She never expected this, is shocked and floored by it. And yet, she shouldn't be, should she? Pip's personality comes shining through no matter his metal parts. "Does that mean you're going to help me?"

The gunslinger straightens. "Have you contacted the authorities?" All business again. "This planet must have an outpost of the Galactic Conjunction? Mechcops?"

Well, she hasn't. "I raised you to help me," she says.

"I was decommissioned for a reason, Didi Duke," he says, soft and sad. "I am no longer an authority or carry any power in the galaxy. To act on your behalf would be done illegally."

This she hadn't considered. "The people who decommissioned you left you to rot in a cargo container on a trash planet." He doesn't react. "My father needs you. I need you. You're a gunslinger."

"I was a gunslinger," he says, that same gentle, weary tone in his voice. "And while I am grateful for this renewed taste of life, I fear your need lies elsewhere. Now, if you would please remove my chip and return me to rest. I would suggest you then proceed immediately to your nearest GC outpost and report your father's kidnapping so the proper authorities can begin his rescue."

She feels the impossible need to stomp one foot on the ground, like a petulant child whose toy isn't working the way she wants it to. Blikey, she saved him from another fifty years living in silence. Maybe all that time in the dark did more damage to him than she thought. Didi raises one hand, swipes it in his direction, but she has no strength behind it and it doesn't land, that blow.

Only to her heart.

"Dung it," she whispers. Turns and runs from the cargo bay, head down, heart dragging under her boots.

***

The gunslinger stands alone and silent in the quiet. He tries not to look at the fallen bodies of his men and women, the soldiers he led into so many battles. He knows them all, recognizes them, even in pieces. Knows it was his weapon that laid them low, finally, though the government who swore to them they would be treated with final respect and sent to their peace has let them down, as they were let down so many times before.

If he could weep for them, he would, his fallen folk. Instead, he stands at attention, granting them the only gesture of respect he is able.

He was wrong to want to wake. He sees that now, the image of the girl in his head fading, shunted to the side by the systems reset he's been forced to activate. The time of the gunslinger is over. The tiny seed of hope he clung to these years of silence, while the programs of patience and maintenance they gave him kept his mind from dissolving into darkness, is fading as fast as his memory of the dark haired girl.

He will wait for the girl Didi Duke to return and shut him down. Doing so should deactivate his self-destruct system, something he's been unable to accomplish. Sixteen hours remain. Surely she will be back in that time.

If not, he will test the flight system in his cyborg body and hope it has enough power to carry him out of the atmosphere. Or his destruction will take most of this planet with him.

***