Lunar Chronicles #4 Winter - Page 139

NEW CONNECTIONS FOUND

REALITY MANUFACTURING CYBERHAND T200–L–CUSTOM: FIVE UTILITIES UNRECOGNIZED: STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED

REALITY MANUFACTURING CYBERFOOT T60.9–L: STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED

REBOOTING IN 3 … 2 … 1 …

Cinder woke up on the sofa with the softest blanket she’d ever felt tucked around her shoulders. She squinted at the unfamiliar shadows on the ceiling, trying to shake off the bewilderment of waking up in a strange place and not being sure how she’d gotten there. Sitting up, she rubbed at her bleary eyes. The room was in disarray, tools and parts scattered around the carpet and tables.

DIAGNOSTICS CHECK COMPLETE. ALL SYSTEMS STABILIZED. TWO NEW CONNECTIONS FOUND:

CYBERHAND T200

CYBERFOOT T60.0

RUN APPLICATION TEST NOW?

She raised her left hand in front of her face. The s.h.i.+ny finish it had when Dr. Erland had first given it to her was gone after two months of making repairs to the Rampion and living in a desert and a dip in Artemisia Lake.

Most baffling was that she had all five fingers, although the pointer—the gun finger Levana had removed—didn’t quite match the others. The finish was different, it was too slender, and the angle of the first knuckle was crooked.

Cinder ran the application test and watched as her fingers curled down, one at a time. Flexed back. Tightened into a fist. The wrist swiveled from side to side.

Her foot went through a similar range of motions. She pulled back the blanket to watch.

BASIC APPLICATION TEST COMPLETE. STANDARD APPLICATIONS APPROVED FOR USE. FIVE UTILITIES UNRECOGNIZED.

Five utilities.

Inspecting her hand, Cinder sent the command for the tips of her fingers to open, which they did without problem. But when she tried to turn on the flashlight, to eject the knife or universal connector cable, or to spin the built-in screwdriver, nothing happened. She didn’t bother trying to load a projectile into the replacement finger.

Still, she had use of the limb again, and she couldn’t complain.

“You’re awake!”

Iko traipsed into the room carrying a tray one-handed, with a gla.s.s of water and a plate of fried eggs, along with bread and jam.

Cinder’s stomach started gnawing through its lining. “You cooked?”

“Just some skills left over from my Serv9.2 days.” Iko set the plate in Cinder’s lap. “But I don’t want to hear a word about how delicious it is.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s awful,” Cinder said, shoveling a spoonful into her mouth. “Tank oo, Iko.” Her gaze landed on Iko’s disabled arm. It was missing a finger. She swallowed. “For the attachment too.”

Iko shrugged with her good shoulder. “You have a few escort-branded wires installed now too. The stuff from the gaming table didn’t work.”

“Thank you. That was really generous.”

Iko pushed Cinder’s feet aside and sat down. “You know how we androids are programmed to make ourselves useful and all that.”

“Are you still an android?” Cinder said around a bite of toast. “Sometimes I forget.”

“Me too.” Iko ducked her head. “When we saw the feed of you jumping off that ledge, I was so scared I thought my wiring was going to catch fire. And I thought, I will do anything to make sure she’s all right.” She kicked at a pile of stray screws on the carpet. “I guess some programming never goes away, no matter how evolved a personality chip gets.”

Licking some jam from her fingertips, Cinder grinned. “That’s not programming, you wing nut. That’s friends.h.i.+p.”

Iko’s eyes brightened. “Maybe you’re right.”

“About time you woke up, lazy.” Cinder glanced over her shoulder to see Thorne in the doorway. Cress and Jacin filed in behind him. “How’s the hand?”

“Almost fully functional.”

“Of course it’s almost fully functional,” said Iko. “Cress and I are geniuses.” She flashed Cress a thumbs-up.

“I helped,” said Thorne.

“He held the lamp,” Iko clarified.

“Jacin did nothing,” said Thorne, pointing.

“Jacin checked your pulse and breathing and made sure you weren’t dead,” said Iko.

Thorne snorted. “I could have done that.”

“Why did I pa.s.s out?” Cinder interrupted.

Crouching beside the couch, Jacin felt for the pulse in Cinder’s wrist. After a short silence, he let it drop down again. “Stress, probably, along with your physical reaction to having the portscreen connected to your”—he gestured to her general head area—“computer thing.”

“And you call me squeamish,” said Thorne.

Cinder squinted. “I pa.s.sed out from stress? That’s it?”

“I believe the princess term is fainted,” said Thorne.

Cinder smacked him.

“With everything you’ve been through,” said Jacin, “it’s amazing you haven’t had a meltdown. Next time you feel light-headed or are having trouble breathing, tell me before you pa.s.s out.”

“The good thing,” said Iko, “is that with you unconscious, Cress and I were able to run your full diagnostics. Two fixed connections, a new data cable, some reinstalled software, and good as new! Well, except—”

“My hand tools, I know.” Cinder smiled. “But that’s fine. I went five years without a built-in flashlight, I’ll survive now.”