Page 23 of Redstone
“Also true,” Isidore agreed. “This is definitely going to be easier with you around; handling one of them by myself was rough.”
“You still haven’t explainedhowwe’re going to do it.”
“Psychic powers.” At Kyle’s blank look, Isidore relented. “Actually, I rigged up a molecular disruptor a month ago. We’ll let it scan me first, and then while it’s scanning you, I’ll puncture its control system and temporarily shut it down. I’ll take out theparts we need, turn it on again, and let it toddle back up to the main room.”
How the hell … “Where did you get the parts for a molecular disruptor?” Kyle demanded. “And why didn’t you have it when you came after me yesterday?”
If Isidore was put off by Kyle’s tone, he didn’t let on. “I didn’t have it for two reasons: one, it requires too much power to be moved from where I’ve jimmied the cord into the wall.” Isidore gestured at the band of light inset in the stone. “And two, it could be considered a heavy weapon. If it was seen by the guards, they would have no choice but to come in to confiscate it, and I don’t want to have to deal with being rousted.”
“But where did you get the parts for it in the first place?” Kyle might not know much about what went on in Redstone, but he was quite sure that the guards weren’t lax enough to make it possible for prisoners to create tech-heavy weaponry on a regular basis.
“Some of them I traded for. Some of them I stole for myself. But the most important part?” Isidore held up a long metal wand threaded with scavenged wiring. It looked nothing like a traditional molecular disruptor, the large size presumably necessary so he could compensate for lower power. The tip of it, though, the part that was going to do the impossible by cutting through things that should be almost impossible to cut, it was … odd. Kyle looked closer. The piece was semicircular, thin, and slightly iridescent. Now that Kyle thought about it, it actually looked like a …
“Is that a nail?”
Isidore smiled again. “One of my toenails.”
“You implanted a fake nail? How did that not get caught?” Isidore must have bribed the clinic staff somehow to get them to overlook a fake body part.
“I didn’t implant a fake; I actually grew this one.”
Kyle shook his head. It was enough of a cue for Isidore to continue. “I seeded the growth bed for this nail with the chemical components needed to create a part like this. I figured that even if I didn’t get the chance to build a disruptor, it couldn’t hurt to have another built-in weapon. It’s incredibly hard, naturally, but I programmed the stem cells to release once the growth had achieved the preset length. It literally fell off into my hand.”
The process Isidore was describing was waaaaay more complicated than he was making it seem. Kyle had done decently in his fabrication and modification classes at the Academy, but this was a whole other level of creation. “What did you do before you came here?”
“I was in cosmods.”
Kyle shook his head. “This is not cosmodification. Cosmods are for aesthetic reasons, they’resimple. This is … not simple.”
“It’s nothing compared to convincing a person’s body to grow itself a tiger tail,” Isidore demurred. “Solaydor is the Central System’s leader when it comes to this technology, and I worked with some very good people while I was there. I picked up a lot.”
“I guess so,” Kyle agreed. “You must have—” He stopped talking as Isidore held a hand up suddenly.
“Noise in the corridor,” he murmured. “The bot has a loose wheel.” He glanced at Isidore as he quickly hid the wand under a pile of scrap. “Remember, let it scan me first. After that, keep its attention long enough for me to work.”
“How long will that be?”
“Not long,” Isidore said soothingly. He didn’t have time for anything else; the bot wheeled into view and stopped in front of them, its green eyestrip glowing brightly in the dim hallway.
“Identify yourselves, inmates.”
Isidore stepped up smartly. “Prisoner 2571.” The glow flared as the bot recorded Isidore’s irises, then swiveled to focus on Kyle.
“Identify yourself, inmate,” it repeated.
Kyle carefully didn’t look over at Isidore as he said, quite honestly, “I’m Kyle Alexander, and I don’t know my prisoner intake number.”
The bot whirred for a moment. “Unable to process. Identify yourself.”
“My name is Kyle Alexander, and I do not have an official intake number.”
“All inmates have corresponding numeric values.”
“Well, I don’t.” Isidore was easing the wand out from under the scrap. Kyle kept talking. “My arrival was a little precipitous, honestly. It’s not surprising that I don’t have a number yet.”
“All inmates and personnel have official intake numbers.” The bot scanned his retinas. “No existing match in database. Error: unidentified inmate. Conclusion: intruder. Course of action: immediate apprehension.”
That didn’t sound good. “Wait, there’s a good reason I don’t have a—” The armature on the front of the bot began to crackle with the snap of a heavy-duty taser. “Wait, stop!”
