Vyusher had awakened to the sound of engines roaring.  He groggily looked about the room.  The cyborg killer had been scattered across the room by the concussive force of the frag grenade he’d made the thing eat.  He hadn’t made it far before it blew; there were bits of fragmented metal embedded in his back.  Voices brought him to a heightened clarity.  He could hear the Livemetal cyborg and the netrunner Karrilyn talking.

“Forgive me?” he heard the netrunner say softly to Schussler.

“What’s to forgive, baby?” Schussler said.

“I lied to you, I-”

“Shhh.  You don’t have to say anything.  You told me the truth in the end, and that’s more than I’d expect from most.  Shit, we’re a fucked-up couple, baby.”

Karrilyn laughed, a pained sound.

“Think I am dying, Micah,” she said to Schussler, coughing.

“Yeah, I think so too, baby,” he replied sadly.

Vyusher looked to them.  Karrilyn was lying in a wide pool of tacky blood; the woundglue he’d applied to her wasn’t enough.  It couldn’t stop all of the bleeding she had been doing.  He was watching a woman die, and there was nothing he could do to save her.  It made him feel bad for him, bad for her and bad for Schussler.

Schussler leaned over Karrilyn, his face close to hers.  Vyusher could see the woman’s hand clenched white-knuckled to the Livemetal ‘borg’s own.

“I don’t want to die.  We’ve only just begun, baby.  I…” her voice trailed off, and she went limp in Schussler’s arms.  

He leaned further over her, kissing her dead lips.  His hand passed over her eyes, closing them.

“I know, baby, I know.  I love you too,” Schussler said tenderly, pushing a strand of hair from her face.

Vyusher watched silently.   Then he saw something he didn’t know was possible.  Schussler’s chromed Livemetal eyes leaked a very small bit of liquid.  They glistened in the light of the dead-channel static of the monitors that surrounded them as they trailed down his cheeks.

Billy Silver’s old ears could never have heard what Schussler said next, it was so soft.  But Vyusher’s did.

“And you’re right, baby, we’ve only just begun.”

Schussler gathered up the body of the woman he’d loved, and stood on shaky legs.

“Wait,” Vyusher said, “Where are you going?  I owe you so much.”

“We’re going home, Roller,” Schussler said simply, and began to limp towards the stairway down.

The roar became louder as three roadbikes burst through the doors of the stairwell.  Wasili, Kizzy and another man blocked the entrance, leveling their guns at the cyborg with murder in their eyes.

“Where’s my man?” Kizzy demanded.

“I’m here, honey.  I’m okay.”

Billy stood, and almost crumpled in agony.  It was then he noticed the heavy knob of steel embedded in his knee.

“Aaah!” he groaned as his knee buckled under the agony.

Kizzy rushed to him, while the two men remained holding Schussler under their sights.  He walked towards them like no one was there, even when they cocked their weapons.  Kizzy showered Vyushar’s face with kisses, but he brushed her back offering a reassuring smile that he meant no harm in it.

“Let him go,” Vyusher commanded the two, “Put your guns up and let him through.”

Wasili spat over the side of his ‘bike, eying the limping Livemetal cyborg.

“He saved my life, let him go, we owe him yuthi'so'coro.”

Wasili nodded then, and held his arms out open after slipping his rifle back into the sheath on the side of the ‘bike.  The other man followed suit.

“Kathal,” both men said as the cyborg passed them, limping and carrying his heavy load.

Kizzy yanked the knob of metal from Vyusher’s knee, and he almost screamed with the pain.

“Don’t worry, ves' tacha, it will be good as new in a few hours,” she reassured him smilingly, and then kissed him deeply.

When he looked up from her lips, the cyborg and his cargo were gone.