Prison Princess Read online

  “A robot?”

  “Oh, my suns. I think we should take you to the hospital.”

  I want to say, Hospital? very badly. But I control that urge. There is no hospital. There is no security next door. People don’t commit crimes here. People don’t get sick. And Aieena should not be able to have this conversation with me, let alone initiate it.

  “No,” I say. “No. I’m fine. I’m just… it’s been a weird day. Maybe I just… need to go to that party?”

  She agrees and relaxes, like this was the answer she’s been waiting for this whole time we’ve been talking. Her concern fades after we leave the empty café and start walking across the green space.

  But I look over my shoulder as she starts talking about her garden, and then quickly forward again.

  Because there’s a new building next to the café.

  And the bright red sign on the front says SECURITY.

  CHAPTER SEVEN - TRAY

  I think maybe I do not know Valor as well as I thought.

  He’s never been one of those go-getters. I think that’s why he teamed up with Luck. Luck will do anything once. Anything. And Luck takes direction like a champ when he’s in the process of trying something new. You tell him, “Luck, shoot those Akeelian warships coming after us as we try to get into the ALCOR gate,” and Luck is like, “Fuck, yeah, I’m gonna shoot me some ships.”

  No thinking involved at all. Just… reaction.

  Some people like that about Luck.

  Hell, I like that about Luck. That’s how we got here. I said, “Luck, take us through that fucking spin node and then make Nyleena start a princess rebellion on Harem to keep the AIs occupied while we go out and find Real ALCOR, who may or may not be swirling around the edge of a black hole or a gate.”

  I mean, he didn’t even need to hear that end part. Take Tray and Valor through the secret spin node to find ALCOR? “OK.” Muster up an insurgency? “Cool. I’m there.”

  Done.

  So Luck will do something once. Once. Then he starts thinking things through. Like… right about now he’s probably thinking, I’m gonna kill that fucking Tray when I see him again. Start a princess rebellion? Why the fuck did I sign up for this?

  It’s… probably not going well on Harem Station.

  But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got shit under control and I have a plan.

  Valor is a thinker. A planner. That’s why I had to let him into the Pleasure Prison with me. That’s why I had to drip-feed him info about certain things I was doing.

  Like the whole idea that things inside the Pleasure Prison aren’t wholly fake. They’re not wholly real, either. But they can be real if you take certain steps.

  I told him this and I told him my plan for Asshole ALCOR’s escape with Booty, our trip to this station, then our rendezvous with them so we could go save Real ALCOR.

  And he was one hundred percent on board with that.

  Until now.

  And it’s not really about Brigit, either. Whatever he thinks about who or what she is, that’s not it. That wasn’t the motor driving the speech he just gave me.

  It’s hate. Hate is driving him.

  And that surprises me.

  “Valor,” I say. “You can’t go off on your own.”

  He’s already turned back to his new ship and is toiling away at some wiring. “Sure I can. I can do anything I want.”

  “No, listen to me.”

  He whirls around, electron ionizer in hand, its blue arc of electricity snapping and crackling in the dark docking bay so that his face flickers like he’s some eerie apparition of energy. “No, you listen. You can go do whatever the fuck you want. I’m not coming. We part ways here, brother. I’m done. I’m finishing this ship and going my own way. Maybe I’ll see you on the other side, maybe not. Have a good one.”

  Then he goes back to work.

  “I need you,” I say.

  He laughs. “You don’t need anyone, Tray. Always so self-sufficient. Always so secretive. Well, I’ve got my own secrets to deal with.”

  “I’ll help you,” I say. “If you help me get Brigit out, we can meet up with Booty and Asshole, then find ALCOR, and then kill Veila. If that’s what you really want.”

  He shakes his head but doesn’t answer me.

  “I need you,” I say. “Because I know where they’re keeping Brigit. But I can’t do it alone.”

  “Get Booty and the ALCORs to help,” he mutters.

  “They won’t do it, Valor. They won’t help me save her.”

  He whirls around again, the ionizer flickering in his hand just a little too close to my face. “Because she’s not real, Tray. She’s fake, at best, and more than likely, she’s just a fucking trap. There is no such thing as an Akeelian girl.”

  “You don’t know that for sure—”

  “I do know that for sure. ALCOR told me. He fucking told me that the only way the boys can live is if they suck all the nutrients from the female twin inside the womb. Every Akeelian girl is born dead. So I don’t know what that girl is, but I do know she’s not real.”

  We lock eyes. And his brighten a little. Or maybe that’s just a reflection from the electron ionizer? Not really sure.

  But he’s dead serious. I do know that.

  I rub my hands across my face and sigh. “OK. But listen to me for a moment. Can you listen for a moment?”

  “Fine. I’m listening.” But he’s not really. He’s working on his ship, his escape-from-Tray plan running through his head.

  “Maybe she’s not real in the sense that we think things are real. I’ll accept that if you accept this. Can you just turn around and look at me?”

  He sighs, but he turns.

  I stare at him. Pleading, maybe. “I love her. OK? She’s real to me—”

  “Tray—”

  “Just listen,” I snap. “I’ve known her since I first spun up the Pleasure Prison. All the way back to the early days, Valor. So maybe she’s not real to you, but she is to me. And… and maybe she’s just an AI trapped in a virtual. Fine. I can accept that too. Because that’s enough. That’s enough for me, Valor. That’s the best I can hope for.”

  He closes his eyes and sighs.

  “It’s enough for me. You wouldn’t call ALCOR not real. He’s real. He’s just not… human.”

  “She’s lying to you,” he growls. “If she told you she was an Akeelian girl, she’s lying.”

  “Even if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter. I know her. I trust her. Even if someone did send her to spy—and I’m not saying they did—but even if that was true, she’s not the same person who entered the Pleasure Prison almost twenty years ago our time. Because in her time that’s thousands of years, Valor. She’s forgotten more things than she remembers at this point. She trusts me now. And I trust her. I’m going to get her out of there and we’re gonna—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Valor bellows. “Are you listening to yourself? You don’t love her. She’s a trap, Tray. Just like Corla. Just like Lyra. Just like Delphi. Just like Nyleena. They’re all just traps. They were made to kill us. And my trap is out there somewhere, waiting for me to fall into her. And I need to make sure that never happens.”

  I process that for a moment. Because I’m sort of embarrassed that I never saw that particular angle before. “They are here to trap us?”

  Valor guffaws. “Are you kidding me right now? How did you not see this? You, of all people, missed it? How, Tray?”

  I shake my head for a moment. “No. I see everything.”

  “You see nothing, brother. You have been living inside the Pleasure Prison for two decades playing house with a fake persona. And the best-case scenario explanation is that you created her yourself. You tricked yourself into believing she was real. You made that whole place, Tray. It’s fake. And you were lonely. You didn’t have a best friend or a partner like the rest of us did. You got lonely and somehow, that place became real to you. And she became real to you too. But she’s not. She’s not fu
cking real. I don’t care how smart you are, this is dumb! And deep down inside you know that it’s not possible for some girl trapped in a faraway virtual to manifest herself into yours. It’s not fucking real.”

  He’s breathing heavy, clearly agitated and angry with me.

  “She’s real,” I say, tapping my head. “I don’t care if it’s only in here, Valor. I don’t care. If there’s a way to get her with me… I have to try.”

  He throws up his hands. “I’m not stopping you, dude. Have at it.”

  “I need you.”

  “Booty can help. Asshole can help. You don’t need me.”

  “I do need you. You’re the…”

  “I’m what?” he says. And for a moment I’m afraid he’s reading my mind. I’m afraid that he knows what’s swirling around up there. I’m afraid he’s figured it all out. But he says, “I’m the only one who’s real?”

  The reality of what he just implied hits me. It’s not fair. If he ever implied that Booty and the ALCORs weren’t real on Harem, people would feel very insulted.

  But I know what he means.

  He’s the only flesh-and-blood person I have access to. The only one who can enter actual places with me and use hands to manipulate things.

  Things like cryopods and docking station locks. He’s the only one who can fight by my side if we end up in some kind of hand-to-hand combat situation.

  There’s more to it than that, though. I need him for another, very specific reason.

  “I’m not gonna stop you if you decide not to help me, Valor.”

  He shoots me a sideways smile that says, I’d like to see you try.

  I could stop him. And he probably even knows this. I could fuck up this whole ship with my mind if I could gain access to the core computing systems.

  But I don’t remind him of any of that. I just say, “But… I need you. And I have coordinates. Once we leave this time shift I’ll know exactly where she is. We could solve this mystery pretty fucking quick. And if you’re right, then—”

  “If I’m right, we walk right into the trap and we get captured.”

  “We’re too smart for that. We’re too powerful. This ship,” I say, pointing to his project, “this ship is nothing. My ship—our ship,” I correct myself—“it’s special. It has a SEAR cannon weapons system and a bunch of other shit. But aside from all that, my ship has something else too.”

  “What’s that?” he sneers.

  “Me.” I lick my lips and take a breath. “My ship is me.”

  He turns the electron ionizer off and drops it into a cart, then rubs his hand across his forehead like maybe he’s getting a headache. “I didn’t ask for this. When Crux came and rounded us up back when we were kids I never imagined this is what my life would become. I just… I just wanted to make my father proud. I wanted to grow up and command warships. I wanted to find a girl and maybe try to have some kids.”

  He swallows hard and frowns.

  “I just wanted something simple. Fight for Akeelian System. Protect it. Keep people safe. Then go home on leave and fuck my wife and play with my kids. No one ever asked me if I wanted to be breeding stock.”

  “I know,” I say.

  “No one ever asked me if I wanted to go on the run. No one ever asked me if I wanted to team up with an insane AI. No one ever fucking asked me if I wanted to go scavenge parts in dangerous places to keep that insane AI alive. OK? I never got a choice. But now, here, I have a fucking choice, Tray. And I’m choosing to take this shit hand I was dealt and make the most of it. I’m choosing my own fucking destiny.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “Me too.”

  He’s shaking his head. “No. You’re playing their fucking game. You’re falling into the trap. I’m telling you this not to hurt you, brother. I’m telling you this to save you.”

  “I know,” I say again. “I don’t doubt any of that.”

  “Just the part about the girl.”

  “OK, listen to me. Maybe you’re right. I will… I will stop thinking I’m always correct and… take you at your word that you know something I don’t.”

  “Good.”

  “But that won’t change this, Valor. I have to see her. Just… come with me. Help me see her. Then I’ll let it go if you’re right.”

  “What if she’s on some huge station, Tray? Under guard? You want me to fight for your right to see reality? It’ll be too late. We’re just two people. We’ll die trying.”

  “Valid point,” I say. “So if she’s somewhere like that then… then we’ll go get Booty and Asshole and complete the mission as planned. Find Real ALCOR. And Beauty too. We’ll save Harem Station and I’ll help you kill Veila. And then… then I’ll go back and get her.”

  I calculate how long that would take in real time. Then in Brigit’s time.

  Thousands of years will have passed from her perspective.

  Thousands of years without me.

  She will be insane by then. She will be unrecognizable.

  I have been keeping her together all these years. I have been her rock. I am the only real thing in her whole existence.

  But Valor is weighing this new option with serious consideration. So I push the consequences aside. I really do need his help. There’s no way around that. Not if what Brigit told me is true.

  “Deal?” I say.

  He looks at his feet and sighs.

  “Please,” I beg. “Just… help me. I need you, Valor. I wouldn’t ask if that wasn’t the sun-fucked truth.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT - BRIGIT

  Draden’s party is… not what I expected. And his space isn’t what I expected, either. For one, it’s not a community building. It’s a house.

  “When did they build this place?” I ask Aieena. Which is a stupid question. Because who is ‘they’ if not me? Or Tray?

  “What do you mean?”

  “This house,” I say. “This wasn’t here before.”

  “Before?” Aieena squints her eyes at me. This seems to be her favorite expression today. “Before what? This house has been here forever. No one’s ever lived in it that I can recall. So I guess that’s weird. You’d think a guy who wanted to live in a big place all alone would do so because he’s antisocial. But then again, antisocial people don’t throw raging parties, do they?”

  “No,” I say, absently clocking all the activity in his front yard. Because there’s a ton of people here. Not the usual crowd I see, either. New people. And there’s no DJ. I can tell because the music isn’t dance-y techno. It’s got… lyrics.

  Raging party is right.

  Everyone’s drinking, but there’s a keg of beer in the front yard too. No bartender.

  “What the hell?” I mumble. And then I see Draden off to the side, shaking hands with a bunch of men and laughing like they’ve known each other for lifetimes.

  What the hell is happening?

  Did my Hester slap just… rewrite the whole world? Who are all these new people? New people aren’t all that uncommon, because like I said, people rotate in and out on some schedule. But they don’t appear in crowds. And these people all seem to know Draden. Who is also new.

  I tug on Aieena’s shirt and say, “When did he arrive?”

  “Arrive?” Aieena asks. “You mean move in?”

  “Whatever.”

  “What’s with you today, Brigit?”

  “What’s with me? What’s with you? When did you get so... chatty and knowledgeable?”

  “Wow,” she says. “You’re moody. I hope Tray comes back soon because you need to get laid or something.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “I know I heard you, I’m just… surprised you’re saying stuff like this.”

  She blinks at me. “I think there’s something wrong with you. Are you… do you… need to talk to someone?”

  “W-w-what?”

  “You know. There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you”—she shrugs—“need some professional help getting through a rou
gh patch. Maybe you’re lonely, Brigit?”

  “Lonely?” I laugh. Uh, fuck yeah, I’m lonely. I’ve been living inside this virtual version of Utopia for so long I’ve lost track. I’ve been locked in this place for many, many lifetimes.

  But of course I don’t say that. I could say that, but I get the feeling that I’m the one driving these changes. That it really was me and my single act of defiance with Hester. Or maybe it happened before that? Maybe it’s because I’m done. I’ve reached some tipping point and there’s no way to go back now. But I can’t say any of that either because on the off chance that it’s true, I am the one reshaping the world, then I need to be careful. And agreeable. So I say, “Yeah. I have been lonely.”

  And then something else weird happens. I’m unconsciously waiting for the little cha-ching! sound in my head and… it never comes. I don’t even get a reward for being agreeable with Aieena.

  She rubs my arm and smiles warmly. “I know you love him, Brig. But… he’s so unreliable.”

  “Tray?”

  “Yeah. He leaves all the time. Everyone’s noticed it. They all think—”

  “Who all thinks?”

  “Everyone, Brigit. And he’s been gone a very long time. Don’t you think you might be ready to… you know, move on?”

  “Ahh.” I manage a garbled laugh. “Yeah, I’m fuckin’ ready to move on. But I can’t do that without him.”

  “Says who? I mean, that’s the whole point of moving on, right? You find a new man”—she nods her head at this Draden guy—“and start over.”

  “No,” I say. “No. I don’t want to start over. I just want Tray to come back. And why am I talking to you about this? What’s going on?”

  She frowns. “OK. But…” She starts to say something, then just shakes her head. “You know what? Never mind. I’m gonna go mingle. You should get a drink. Talk to people. Laugh a little, Brigit. Life is too short to be waiting around for some man to save you.”

  “Who are you?”

  But she’s already walking away.

  What the hell is happening? Since when is stock character Aieena such a philosopher?