Runner by William C. Dietz

defenses?”
    â€œNo, I have something else in mind,” the runner responded. “And I need your help.”
    Lee felt something expand inside his chest. “Of course!” he said enthusiastically. “Tell me what I should do.”
    The conversation continued for about five minutes before the boy fumbled around in one of their packs, slipped a package into a pocket, and grabbed hold of the waterbucket. None of which struck Tal, Hol’s brother, as especially noteworthy. He had been watching the man called Rebo ever since one of his cronies had thrown the bolt. The whole idea was to scare the runner, prevent him from getting enough sleep, and attack when he was weak. Everybody agreed that the equivalent of two or three days without rest would be sufficient to wear him down. That’s when Hol would be avenged.
    Tal took pleasure in the thought and was still lingering over it, when a series of what he thought were gunshots went off behind him. The would-be killer dived for the deck, rolled onto his back, and looked for the source of the noise. “They were firecrackers!” one of his fellow employees said from a hiding place nearby. “The boy set them off!”
    The boy? Tal scrambled to his feet, peered toward the distant fire, and felt something cold trickle into his veins. The runner was gone!
    The quick series of explosions brought Norr up out of a sound sleep only to discover that she was in deep trouble. The metal man loomed above her. What looked like a silver snake launched itself from a commodious sleeve, landed on her chest, and sought her throat. The sensitive grabbed the object and tried to fend it off, but the device was too strong. Within a matter of seconds the synthetic serpent had wrapped itself around Norr’s throat and swallowed its own tail.
    As the metallic noose tightened, it became difficult to breathe, and the sensitive’s lips and fingernails had already started to turn blue when the robot said something in the universal mech language, and the steel loop loosened slightly.
    â€œWhy are you doing this?” Norr demanded, still tugging at the collar. “Remove this thing!”
    Frac’s eyes lit up just as they had while exploring the ship, only the beams of light converged this time, and a picture formed in midair. The image was that of a man with blond hair, fair skin, and cold blue eyes. They seemed to stare straight through her. When he spoke the sound originated from the robot. “Greetings, Citizen Norr. My name is Jevan Kane. Please allow me to apologize for curtailing your freedom, but for reasons known only to him, the founder of the organization I represent has chosen to make himself heard through you alone. Once you and my representative arrive on Pooz you will be taken to our local headquarters, where you will allow Milos Lysander to manifest through you. You can participate in this process voluntarily, and be paid for your time, or do so under duress. The choice is yours.”
    â€œReally?” Norr inquired hopefully. “Then tell this freak to remove the thing that’s wrapped around my neck. Once we reach Pooz I’ll be glad to bring what’s his name through—especially if you pay me.” The last part was a lie, because if the man with the blond hair was stupid enough to let her go, the sensitive planned to destroy Frac and run like hell.
    But the effort to deceive Kane was a waste of time because the holo had been prerecorded, the operative couldn’t hear her, and there was nothing left to look at beyond a few motes of twirling light.
    â€œI don’t like it up here,” Frac said flatly, as his head swiveled back and forth. “Collect your belongings. We leave in five minutes.”
    Norr tried to think of a way out of it, but she had been transformed into a slave, and slaves have no choice but to do as they are told.
    Though not the best place in the hold, the blue-and-white-striped tent had