Horizon Storms by Kevin J. Anderson

give him a chance, Anjea,” said the black EDF officer. “We’d like you to tell us what you know, compy. I’m Robb Brindle. What’s your name, so we can have a real conversation?”
    “My shortened serial number is DD. I would prefer that you call me that.”
    Brindle rubbed his hands together. “A friend of mine in the EDF was always close to her compy. I’m sure we can be friends. Right?”
    “I would like that, Robb Brindle.”
    Brindle’s honey-brown eyes brightened. “We’re pretty out of it here, DD. Several of us have already died, and we haven’t even come close to creating a workable escape plan.”

    20

H O R I Z O N S T O R M S
    “We’re stuck in the middle of a gas giant!” Anjea Telton snapped at him. “Do you expect to just walk away?”
    “No,” Brindle said, frowning at the other prisoner. “But I expect some cooperation in seizing an opportunity if one presents itself. Like DD here.
    Hey, pal, can you help us get out of this place?”
    “I have no means by which to effect a rescue. My body was modified to withstand the pressures outside, but your organic forms could never survive any attempt to depart. I believe that these environment bubbles are the only safe places for you within a gas-giant core.”
    For just a moment, Brindle’s shoulders slumped, but then he straightened himself, as if unwilling to show disappointment in front of the other prisoners. “We figured as much, but we had to ask.”
    “I am sorry. If I encounter new possibilities, I will attempt to help.”
    DD took another step forward. “Perhaps you could each describe how you came to be captives. I am as lacking in information as you say you are. Did the Klikiss robots seize you, or were you each taken in hydrogue attacks?”
    “Damned black bug robots are worse than the drogues! They pretended to be our friends.”
    “Can’t trust robots.”
    “No kidding.”
    “But we can trust you, DD, right?” Brindle explained how he had been captured during a diplomatic mission while descending in an environment chamber to the hydrogues. Other captives had been stolen from lifetubes in the battle of Osquivel or kidnapped in ships flying between star systems.
    One, Charles Gomez, had even been snatched from the forested colony of Boone’s Crossing.
    DD assessed all of the stories, seeing few common denominators. “I will ponder your situation. Perhaps I can determine a solution.”
    “Why bother? We’re all dead anyway,” said sullen and distraught Gomez. “The drogues already killed five of us in their experiments. It’s only a matter of time.”
    “We can’t let ourselves think like that,” Brindle said, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder.
    DD looked around at the human prisoners. “You have survived so far.
    My master Louis Colicos always instructed me to be optimistic, while my

J E S S T A M B L Y N
21
    other master Margaret Colicos insisted that I be practical. I will try to synthesize both.”
    “You do that. And we’ll try to do the same.” Brindle gave him a hopeful smile. “We appreciate whatever you can do, DD. And thanks for visiting us. It’s given me the most hope I’ve had since I got here, especially considering everybody probably thinks I’m already dead.”
    DD’s time signal showed that his brief visit was nearly over and Sirix would soon be coming back for him. “Perhaps we can prove them wrong.”
    65JESS TAMBLYN
    Everybody probably thinks I’m dead.” Jess sat alone on the shore of a windswept alien sea, naked and clean, but not cold. He had never felt so isolated—or so . . . different—from other human beings in his life.
    His skin tingled with unnatural and explosive energy, as if ready to spark and jump. The light dusting of hair on his bare chest looked normal—and completely out of place—on his altered body.
    He remained alive even though his ship had been destroyed by marauding hydrogues. After the attack, Jess barely remembered falling through the clouds,