Peyton 313
Page 7
Kyra nodded. She understood what Peyton was saying. That early version of Jackson hadn’t been the warped one.
“Programming for cybernetic enhancements was very straight forward when the first soldiers were converted. Cybernetic programming was used mostly to increase natural abilities and repair the soldier’s bodies when necessary. Programs didn’t run codes concurrently without pause. That discovery came later, as did others that made your participation in the Cyber Husband program a possibility. Before the peace pact was officially signed, Jackson had figured out how to completely control anyone with a cybernetic processor and torment chips installed. The first work I did for you was to remove all those capacities from your cybernetics. I’ve come to think it’s reprehensible to subvert someone’s humanity so totally.”
Peyton lifted his shoulders. “So you want me to believe that you’re a reformed cyber scientist with a guilty conscience. And I’m also supposed to believe you did this restoration to help me.”
Since she didn’t even harbor it as a fantasy, Kyra shook her head. “I’m just a person who is trying to right her mistakes in life before she dies. The constant code control factor led to the recycling of cyborgs instead of their disposal. At first, I was convinced it was a good thing that soldiers like you were being spared outright execution. Then Jackson expanded his cybernetic research to include converting women. Failures of cybernetics in females are still numerous. But in the end it was the work being done children that finally snapped me out of being complacent. Jackson didn’t make children into full cyborgs. He just installed controllers in them so their parents wouldn’t have to work so hard. Child discipline technology made my ex-husband more of a fortune than his original cybernetics work did.”
Peyton gripped the bars. His fingers squeezed hard around them as he closed his eyes against the picture his mind drew of her descriptions. “Hurting children really is despicable. I saw enough of that during the war. You don’t know what hell is until you see a toddler wired with bombs.”
“Yes. Hurting children is despicable. But what I’ve done to you—and what I did to Marshall and Alex—is just as evil. Worse than that, I haven’t given you the choice of staying ignorant. Despite being one of the original creators, I am fully cognizant of my limitations. When I’m dead, there will be no one left alive who can run this sort of experiment as fast as I can. Any success with you is really a success for all Cyber Soldiers.”
Peyton opened his eyes to stare at her again. Her head was down and her shoulders were bowed. She looked fragile in her doctor’s coat and he felt himself wanting to comfort her. It was absurd to want more personal contact with a woman who had just confessed to buying and killing two cyborgs for the sake of her experiments. He was her captive and he couldn’t let himself forget it just because his dick still liked her. If this contradictory thinking was part of being human, he wasn’t sure it was worth staying like he was currently.
“What the hell are you trying to do with me, Doc? If you expect to ever have my cooperation, you need to tell me exactly what you have planned.”
Kyra looked at the floor. “I thought if you had access to all your cybernetics, and full access to your human side as well, that you might be able to find a way to liberate those who have been unfairly enslaved by the technology.”
“And if I refuse to go along with you?” Peyton asked.
Her head snapped up on his instant response. “Not to brag or anything, Captain Elliott, but I have the lion’s share of power in our relationship at the moment. If I wanted to, I could knock you out, put you back in the chair, and install a different processor very similar to the military one I took out of you. Then I could return you physically to Norton, just like your other wives did. You’d go back to being the most challenging cyborg in the Cyber Husband program with no one ever knowing what I attempted.”
“But then what would happen to your mad scientist plans?” Peyton asked.
“Nothing. Nothing happens. I’ve spent all of Jackson’s blood money. It’s not like I’m going to get a refund for returning you. Until a cyborg’s programming is disrupted, there’s no way to talk to him or her about volunteering for my experiments. So if I feel sorry for you and give you up, it doesn’t matter what I planned. Norton and the UCN won’t let me continue playing the role of reformed scientist. You’re the last chance to atone that I will ever have in my life.”
Peyton clicked his finger tips against the bars. “Fifty isn’t all that old when your life expectancy is a hundred and fifty. You haven’t even hit mid-life yet.”
“With so many cybernetic parts, your life span could very well be twice mine and you know it,” Kyra answered.
Peyton shrugged. “My longevity is ironic considering I never expected to survive my military service.”
“Captain. . .” Kyra stared at Peyton knowing there was no way she could make him understand why she had done what she had done to him until he understood his past. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you refuse to help me.”
“Yeah, Doc. I figured that shit out already.”
Letting go of the bars, Peyton trudged back to the sterile looking bed and sat down on it. It would have been very nice to have spent a few hours with the wicked woman riding him to an oblivion that took them both beyond this fucked-up situation. Some women just didn’t know when to stop talking.
Peyton sighed heavily in disappointment as he glared. “Since I can’t stop you, go ahead and do your worst to me. Let’s see if I survive full restoration better than my weak-ass predecessors.”
“I’m not asking you to be nice to me or to tolerate this situation without hating every second of it. I just don’t have the luxury of feeling guilty about taking your humanity away from you again.”
Peyton snorted at her half-ass apology. Her chastisement only made him more wary.
“Too bad, Dr. Winters. I’m not your priest, or your girlfriend, so I can’t make you feel better for fucking with my brain again. If I die, don’t jump off a cliff like your last Cyber Husband did. Get some mental help. You obviously need it.”
Kyra shook her head. “Of all the regrets I may ever have in my life, I can’t believe passing up the chance to sleep with a wiseass like you might actually be the one that will keep me up at night.”
“Maybe we’ll get to sleeping with each other in another place and another time,” Peyton said snidely, venting his sarcasm.
“Highly doubtful, but not an unpleasant thought—even now that you hate me,” Kyra said softly, walking to stand close to the bars.
Regret and loss sat heavy in her chest, but she couldn’t let it change things. She took a deep breath and started the assimilation.
“Code Alfa78904. Resume Creator Reboot of Peyton 313. Voice authorization: Kyra Winters, Doctor of Cybernetics, Creator 2 of 2. Run cybernetic data records synchronization. Adjust speed of assimilation to be as slow as possible. Sleep mode is recommended while the process completes.”
Peyton grunted as he fell down flat on the bed, immediately obeying the cybernetic commands shutting down his consciousness.
Kyra gripped the bars and sniffed as tears fell again. What more proof did she need that she was doing the right thing? The man in the cage was still a cyborg and would always be one in some ways. His instant compliance with the creator commands proved it conclusively. She only felt guilty because she had shown Peyton what it could be like living as mostly human again.
Pulling herself wearily away from the bars, Kyra choked back the sob clogging her throat. If this worked, Peyton would become the first of his kind. If it didn’t . . . well she’d just tackle that problem in the morning. At the slowest speed, full synchronization would take at least nineteen hours. To face what Peyton would become was going to take all her fortitude. She couldn’t handle it without rest.
“Fight for us all one more time, Captain Elliot. Find a way to be both human and cyborg. No matter how much you hate me, I promise I’ll help you if you just stay with me and try.”
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She couldn’t understand Peyton’s reply as he mumbled something, but it meant a lot to her that her voice could penetrate his cybernetic sleep.
Chapter 6
Late the next morning, Kyra looked down at her tight jeans and even tighter fitting shirt with disgust. Why was she taking such pains with her appearance? He likely wouldn’t notice her clothing. If he did, he likely wouldn’t care. Last night he hated her for telling him the truth. This morning he’d probably hate her for just breathing.
In the mirror, she inspected the way her shoulder length brown hair curled naturally around her face and made her brown eyes look even darker. Surgery had corrected her vision two years ago, but today glasses would have been a welcome shield. She pushed her hair back and held it in both hands as she tried to decide what to do with it before she finally turned it loose and left it hanging.
Sighing in disgust about caring whether or not he might still find her attractive, Kyra grabbed the wrist remote for his restraints and snapped it back on. She’d taken it off to shower but wouldn’t be able to do that again once Peyton was out of the cage.
Taking a deep breath, she headed to her kitchen and picked up his breakfast. Peyton would need serious fuel today. His body had essentially been working all night.
It took her several minutes to get through her lab’s rotating security. What she found inside had her setting the food tray down on her desk and running to the bars of the cage. The metal bed was bent in the middle. Everything was thrown around, scattered, or destroyed. The file she had left with Peyton last evening had been shredded into confetti.
“Captain Elliot? Are you okay?”
He rounded on her so quickly that Kyra didn’t see him move until he slammed his body against the bars. The force of the impact scared her into jumping away from the cage.
“It’s all fucking true, isn’t it?” he demanded.
Kyra swallowed and nodded. Neither Marshall or Alex had gotten so angry. Instead, they’d been hurt and mentally wounded by the discovery. Their country’s betrayal had sent them into depression. Apparently, the emotional part of Peyton was wired a bit differently.
“Yes. Everything about the Cyber Husband program is all true. And there’s more I haven’t told you yet.”
“My men—what happened to the other Marines?”
Kyra drew in a breath. “Every cybernetically enhanced soldier was redefined and put into the Cyber Husband program. Those that couldn’t be redefined were sent to work camps where they’re being used like android robots for tasks specific to their enhancements. But without exception, all Cyber Soldiers were given cybernetic chips that run the constant codes I told you about. I know of no exceptions.”
“Fucking asshole dipshit motherfucking paper pushing bastards,” Peyton yelled, slamming the bars again several times. “I’m a fucking Marine. I can’t believe they turned me into a high-priced man whore without me knowing it. How the hell could this happen?”
Kyra went to her desk chair and fell into it. “Now you understand the primary reason I didn’t have sex with you when you offered. Do you remember our personal exchange?”
Peyton nodded tightly. “Damn right I remember it. I remembered a lot of things this morning. I remembered things that I hadn’t thought about in a decade. What the hell happened to my fiancée?”
“Fiancée? There was nothing in your records about a fiancée,” Kyra said wearily, rubbing her forehead in confusion. “If you can recall her name and ID number, I can look up her current stats. Chances are she was told that your cybernetics had gone rogue and taken over your personality. It was the standard cover story. Families were sent a tape that was made to portray your cybernetic abilities in the worst possible light. All families of soldiers received large compensation checks for their personal losses.”
Peyton shook his head in disbelief. “So instead of getting the honorable retirement I was promised, they handled the fucked up situation like I had died in combat.”
Kyra nodded. “Yes. I believe that’s a fair analogy for what happened.”
“How long have you known all this? You told me yesterday, but I need to hear it again,” he demanded.
“Jackson told me restoration was not an option just before the peace pacts were signed. He said cyber soldiers were too dangerous to let run loose in a peaceful society. Most decision makers in our government and the UCN wanted all cyborgs discreetly destroyed. Jackson’s constant code solution spared cyborgs from death . . . at least after a fashion. Those making the decisions preferred being perceived as good guys so they convinced themselves that soldiers were getting a pretty cushy life in the Cyber Husband program. And it was all aided by the income cyborgs brought to the UCN.”
“Yeah. A cushy life. Just fuck some stranger on demand and do the work of a house droid the rest of the time. That’s bullshit—that’s what that is,” Peyton declared, slamming his hand against the bars again.
Kyra winced at his description of the last decade. “Yes. The unfairness should have occurred to me when Jackson suggested his solution, but it didn’t. It didn’t even occur to me when Jackson replaced me with a female cyborg that he was trying to custom mold to his changing sexual preferences. I brooded for several years about his betrayal, too self-involved to see the bigger picture of the cyborg chaos he’d been instrumental in putting into place. His work on putting controllers into children ended up being my tipping point. I left my job at Norton Industries this year after Jackson was killed because I refused to take over his work on it. I couldn’t stand being involved with altering innocent children. Controller wires have to be inserted while the person is alert so they can be tested at each pain point. They created a special chip to put in the brains of children to store the traumatic memories afterward. But that doesn’t mean they don’t scream while the process is being done to them.”
“I called you Dr. Frankenstein, but you’re a worse monster than any you’ve created,” Peyton said viciously.
Kyra nodded. “Yes. I agree with your assessment of my character. But I promise you I’m trying to make things right as best I can.”
Peyton glared, but his derision was both ineffective and wasted on the stoic woman. If ever there was a time for the mad doctor to be sobbing into her lab coat sleeve, it would have been after his insults. But no—she was too damn strange to act like a normal person.
“Lady, you’re lucky right now I’m in this cage. Otherwise my hands would be around your throat. Locking me in here was probably the smartest thing you’ve ever done in your life.”
Kyra studied her hands. She deserved his anger. She deserved his hate. But that didn’t make her goal any less important or urgent. Her science work had given her a laser-like focus on her goals. It served her well as she stared at the angry Marine she had caged.
“That conclusion depends on how you view things, Captain Elliot. If you kill me when I let you out, then I will at least be released from this remorseful hell I exist in most of the time. But I don’t think you’re going to because you need me to fix at least a few other cyborgs, if we manage to rescue some before the UCN comes after me. I see us working as some sort of a team to help you form a viable group capable of acting together for larger purposes.”
“Do you think rescuing a few cyber soldiers is going to vindicate what you have done to people like me?” Peyton growled out his questions as he stomped around his prison.
Kyra shook her head. “No. Nothing will change what I’ve done to you. But regret won’t change the past. I can only try to make amends by restoring one cybernetic soldier at a time.”
“Great. Let me the hell out of this cage and let’s get to it.”
Kyra shook her head again. “No. I can’t. Look at how erratic your emotions are. You’re not fully integrated, Captain Elliott. The human mind is an amazing tool, but it needs time to work through what’s happened in the last couple days. Your anger is a necessary phase of this process. Sadness and depression will come to visit shortly as well. O
nce you survive feeling all those emotions, then we’ll talk about letting you out.”
“Damn it. I’m going to lose my mind prowling around this cage while dwelling on this shit. I destroyed the bed the moment I came to consciousness and remembered everything.”
Peyton swept a hand over his head. Human action of frustration, his mind reported, even as his cybernetic implants hummed and scanned for things to help him escape. He laughed harshly at the irony of his awareness. He was emotionally back to the day he’d left the war zone. What had happened since was like watching a movie in his head. The data of the last decade was fully accessible, but there was no emotion attached to any of it that made it worth thinking about for more than two seconds. Data about his other wives was just stored and catalogued. All it provided was proof of how much and for how long he’d been fucked over by the country he’d served.
“You know, I wish you had just left me like I was yesterday, Doc. I think I was actually happy for a few minutes. Fucking hell—I didn’t sign up for this when I let you mad scientists combat modify my brain.”
Kyra tucked her hands under her legs to stop them from shaking. “No. You didn’t sign up for any of this. Bend the bed back into a normal shape after you calm down. You can do it if you focus your thoughts on channeling your strength. It’s going to take a bit of time for your cybernetic enhancements to learn to follow your human will instead of some programming order. Based on the organic access work you were already doing, I think this is the golden opportunity your brain has been waiting for. It should race to create new synapses now that there is nothing to prevent them from developing.”
Rising slowly, Kyra walked to her desk and then to the cage with the breakfast tray she had prepared. She lowered a thin slide welded to the bars and locked the tray to it before sending it through the opening.