At that moment, the door swung open and Op Nine walked in. He was carrying a pair of combat-style black boots and a pair of thick socks. Ashley jumped off the bed and I did too, as if he had caught us doing something we shouldn’t. By the expression on his face, I figured maybe we had been.
“The rest of the team has already reported on deck,” Op Nine said to Ashley.
“I was on my way.”
“The deck,” Op Nine said tightly, “is two flights above us.”
Ashley left without another word.
I said, “Don’t dock her pay or anything. She didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know.”
“It would be unfortunate, particularly for her, if she had,” Op Nine said. He set the boots and socks beside the bed and stepped back.
“Well,” I said. “She did tell me one thing. You’re taking me with you to the nexus.”
“It is unavoidable.”
“And why’s that?”
He just stared at me. I said, “I have this theory you might be a cyborg.”
“You are making a joke.”
“Half a joke.”
“How does one make half a joke?”
“I’ve never really thought it through. What if I refuse to go?”
“I would be forced to compel you.”
“I could fight you.” One of his thick eyebrows rose toward his hairline. “I’m a biter. And a scratcher.”
“I would immobilize you and carry you to the nexus over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes.”
“That’s a joke, right?”
“Half a joke.”
He motioned to the boots and socks. He watched silently as I pulled them on.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Still a little dizzy.”
“That will pass.”
“How do you know?”
“I am a trained medic as well as a cyborg.”
He opened the bulkhead door and jerked his head toward the corridor outside.
“After you, Alfred Kropp.”
Something hit me then, and instead of keeping my mouth shut, which was probably the wisest thing to do at that moment, I blurted out, “I’m the bait, aren’t I?”
“Bait?”
“Or ransom or something. Mike wants you to bring me to him.”
“I doubt that.”
“Then why do I have to go?”
“Because,” Op Nine said calmly, “we say so.”
Dumb, Kropp, dumb, dumb, dumb, I told myself, and walked through the door anyway.