BZRK: Reloaded (BZRK 2)

“Ever run a nanobot, kid? Ever twitched?”

Billy shook his head.

Burnofsky said nothing more, just waited, and glanced at the suitcase again, and looked at Billy from half-closed eyes. Billy reached impulsively for the suitcase. He unzipped it. There was a clean shirt, underwear, a toiletries bag, and a zippered nylon case.

Billy glanced toward the stairwell. He hauled the zippered case onto his lap, wedged his gun under his leg, and opened the case.

“Looks like an old Xbox. Kind of. The glove . . .” It was like watching Burnofsky gaze lovingly at the bottle. Billy wanted to slip the glove on.

“Go ahead. It tingles. It’s much more sensitive than anything you’ve ever used before. You can set the tolerances, of course; at maximum, you barely need to move to twitch.”

Billy stalled, trying not to look greedy for the game. “Where are the nanobots?”

“Where? Ah, well, we have two kinds, you know.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Let’s call them the grays and the blues.”

“Okay.”

“The grays, well, they’re easy to move around, obviously. In fact, the biggest worry is losing them. See the two batteries?”

Billy had of course seen them. They were nestled in an peppermints tin. Two very average-looking batteries, a single AAA an

d a single AA.

Billy pulled the batteries out and cupped them in his hand. He prodded them with his index finger. He frowned and then pinched the protruding nub of the positive end of the AA and pulled. A cylinder slid out. Inside the cylinder were six glass tubes, each not much thicker than a sewing needle.

“Each of those contains two dozen nanobots,” Burnofsky said. Then he said, “Of course those are the grays.”

Billy heard the subtle disparagement in his voice. He looked up. There was a challenging, teasing look in the old man’s eyes.

“What’s the big deal about the color?” BIlly asked.

“It’s not about the color,” Burnofsky said in a near-whisper that forced Billy to lean in close. “It’s about capabilities. I mean, you’re a gamer, right, Billy?”

Billy the Kid had come up along a mean path strewn with bad people. He was not naïve despite being young. His instincts warned him that Burnofsky was up to something.

But he could handle Burnofsky. He slid the glove onto his hand. It seemed to come alive. It closed in around his hand, not squeezing exactly, but forming itself to fit perfectly. Like it had been made to order just for him.

He could feel thousands of tiny rubber needles pressing, tickling, itching for him to twitch just a little.

He grabbed the second battery and pinched the nub with his free hand. It was awkward now with the twitcher glove on. But he didn’t want to take the glove off.

“How do I get them out?”

Burnofsky’s look was unreadable. Something deep and dark was going on there. Something big. Finally he said, “You just snap the glass pipette. See the one end the way it’s scored? Snap it off and just upend it on any surface. The inside of the pipette is specially coated so the nanobots can’t grip. They’ll slide right out. Takes about five seconds.”

Billy held a single pipette up to the light. There was a suggestion of faint blueness, nothing more.

“What’s better about these?” Billy asked.

“Well, Billy, those are special nanobots. Those are very special nanobots.” Burnofsky’s voice was a whisper again. “Why don’t you empty them out in your palm?”

Billy was past hesitation. Without needing to be told, he slipped the goggles into place.

He snapped the pipette with his teeth, spit out the end, and held it so the open end was against his ungloved palm.