“I brought you a lot of protein. Your body has undergone a huge trauma. The integration process will work more efficiently if you eat and rest as much as possible.”
“Before you go traipsing away, there’s one more thing I need to know—are you keeping anything else important from me? Don’t fucking lie to me, Doc. I can’t take anymore deceit,” Peyton commanded.
Kyra crossed her arms. “Yes. I’m keeping some things from you still, but only for the purpose of helping you adjust slowly—not to keep you in the dark about your life. I’ll tell you everything in time. One day soon you’ll be able to research and learn things on your own. Then you can determine for yourself whether or not to trust what I’ve said to you. No matter what you think of me, I do intend to give you full freedom. You have my word on that, Captain Elliott.”
When he was silent and had turned away, Kyra turned to leave. It was obvious how he felt about her now. The sight of her probably sickened him. Her earlier worry about her clothes now mocked her.
“Hey Doc—wait. Fuck. I hate asking this, but damn it—I need to know.”
Kyra turned back to find Peyton glaring at her hard.
“You were right about the sexual training. Apparently, there was a programming chip installed just for that work. Did you purposely leave that one in me? Or am I just supposed to believe it was a scientific oversight?”
Kyra winced internally, but nodded at his comment. It was a reasonable question. And he was right, she had left it to give herself an edge. Peyton would just have to add it to her list of sins.
“I left all secondary chips because I didn’t want to confuse you any more than necessary. I only changed out the primary ones and the processor. Later on, we’ll remove any chips you want gone, including the one with my info on it. If it’s any consolation to your newly reawakened male ego, the chip isn’t the only indicator of what you found on it. You were the only man in the Cyber Husband program with a five star bedroom rating from all ten of your wives. That obviously indicates a high level of innate skill. Cybernetic software can only enhance abilities that are already innate. Removing the chip won’t change that. It will just remove your knowledge of me.”
Peyton snorted. “I’m sure that would be scientifically disappointing for you. Want to do some hands on research to find out if you agree? Apparently, lots of women have. I don’t know why you turned me down before. Why should you be the one exception?”
Kyra didn’t know which of them was more surprised by his snarky offer. Peyton dropped his gaze from hers right after asking.
“Thank you, but no thank you, Captain Elliot. I have my BOB. He takes care of any physical needs I have in the bedroom.”
Peyton’s scanning mechanism sent out signals searching for another cyborg or droid in her home. No signals were returned. Maybe all signals inside the lab were scrambled. “Did you experiment on him too?”
Kyra rolled her eyes at the accusation in his tone. If the whole discussion hadn’t been so traumatizing for her, his question would have been hysterically funny.
“No. BOB is already fully mechanized. Not exactly a droid, but there’s no chance of improving him. I have to make do with his current abilities. I find they suffice for my occasional use.”
Peyton caught the amusement in Kyra’s voice and thought about what she was saying as he looped his arms around the bars. He realized then that he had been too pissed to think clearly. He ordered himself to calm the hell down and start collecting data from Kyra Winters in a more rational manner. When he had achieved that state, her veiled inference instantly came to him.
“Oh, that kind of BOB. Why make do with your old-fashioned mechanical toys, Doc? A woman as hot as you needs the kind of vibrator that comes with an imaginative brain. I bet I’m bigger than your mechanical boyfriend too.”
Kyra snorted at his audacity. He was certainly a lot different than Marshall or Alex.
“Random outbursts of human emotion, such as the typical male bragging you’re doing, will be filtering through your mind and out your mouth for several days. When everything finally settles though, you should find yourself experiencing less of those outbursts.”
Peyton laughed at her calm assessment. “Outbursts? Oh hell no. This conversation is no fucking outburst. You missed seeing the outburst this morning. I’m just pissed at you now because I remember every one of those women who bought me and the memories are not pleasant. Nine of them were evil bitches that I derailed whenever I could. I had no choice but to fuck them on command and part of me hated them for it—and still does. I can’t believe any government would condone such a thing. In my book, that’s a pretty shitty thing to do to a soldier. Hell—to any man period. Same goes for women.”
Kyra nodded, her face flushing with shame. “Yes. I’m sorry it took me so long to rescue you from that life. I didn’t have fifteen million dollars when I needed it. Raising money took years, even with Jackson’s inheritance. I did the best I could as fast I could. When I couldn’t buy you at first, I bought the others thinking that trying something was better than doing nothing. All my experiences in human restoration of cyborgs has only increased my guilt and shame for participating in such a heinous process to begin with. But it’s far too late for wishing I had never started.”
Peyton ran a hand through his hair, feeling the strands push up. On the right side, he felt the small compartment that provided access to his cybernetic components. Whether Kyra Winters was truly repentant or not, she was the only person he knew who held the secrets to his return to something resembling normality. Without her, he’d still be waiting for another bored rich woman to buy him. Guess it was better to be at the mercy of the evil science bitch he knew, than some unknown female he was painfully programmed to obey.
He sighed as he met Kyra’s concerned stare. “Whatever the hell you did to me, I do finally remember every woman I’ve ever been with, including my fiancée which is the last decent memory I have before I got the cybernetics. As messed up as you are as a human being, thanks at least for giving me back control of my body. From all the data stored in my brain, I can see that never would have happened if you hadn’t had your attack of conscience. I hate you for being alive, but I applaud your attempt to reform.”
“Thank you for that concession, Captain Elliott. Now I know what being damned with faint praise feels like. And let me just say again that any reasonable human would be very angry in your situation. No matter what anyone did to you, you’re just as human as I am. Never doubt it,” Kyra ordered softly.
Peyton studied her sagging shoulders. The women who had bought him seemed to bother her as much as anything else that had been done to him. He might be still pissed at the situation, but at the moment he had a lot of respect for Kyra Winters holding back when he was begging her for sex. He had clear and distinct recall of just how badly she had wanted him. Even now after all he had learned, memories of her hot kiss had his dick twitching despite his disgust at the reaction.
“I remember everything about our sexual exchange, Doc. I remember you climbing into my lap to kiss me until I was hard as a rock under you. I remember how much we both wanted that kiss to go on and on. I told you I wasn’t going to forget it. That apparently was a promise I’m able to keep. Thanks for that too. Focusing on my sick obsession with you is at least helping me put memories of those other evil bitches away.”
Kyra shook her head. “Stop patronizing me. Just erase the memory of us kissing. You have that ability back now. It would actually be a good thing for both of us if you did because your shitty situation with me is just getting started. Soon we’re going to be up to our necks in it. We’re never going to find a time and place for anything like that kiss to happen again.”
Peyton shook his own head, mirroring her denial. Maybe he didn’t remember everything perfectly, but he was sure Kyra Winters was one of the most depressing women he’d ever been attracted to. His fiancée had been a curvy, happy-go-lucky yoga teacher. Maybe his strong attraction to Kyra was
just gratitude that she had literally saved what was left of his ass.
“You don’t know what will happen for sure, Doc. No one knows. Life is full of surprises. I escaped one hell and woke up in another. This isn’t the first time either. At least I’m alive and so are you. I’m still pissed but don’t let that stop you from being truthful. I want to hear what you have to say.”
Peyton frowned when she rose from her seat and headed to the door. He found himself speaking to her back as she tried to shut him out. “Hey, Doc—I know I’m in a pisser of a mood, but don’t be a stranger from the lab today. I’m not real keen on being alone right now. It would give me too much time to hate the world.”
Kyra nodded but didn’t turn around. She needed a break from witnessing his unhappiness.
“I’ll be back to see you in an hour. If you fix your area so you can sit, I’ll bring you a reading device with some more documents. I’ll work here and stay available to answer your questions about what you find out.”
After hearing Peyton’s softly spoken “okay”, Kyra slipped quietly out of the lab and took a few cleansing breaths. His reaction of extreme anger was dangerous, especially given his cybernetically enhanced strength. But his anger seemed healthier than the instant depression she’d seen in both Marshall and Alex. She was going to consider it a positive sign that his restoration was working.
Pushing her hair back, Kyra picked up her pace and headed to the kitchen. Once there, she picked up her handheld com and dialed. She had to be careful in case the call was being recorded. She fully expected it was. The connection completed but there was no human answer on the other end. She’d gotten his recording.
“Hey Nero. How’s the gaming going? No line pickup so I guess you must be absorbed in something. Guess what? A real Prince Charming finally arrived on my doorstep. I have high hopes because Peyton 313 is way superior to the other two duds I bought. Wait until you see the guns on this one. I can’t wrap both hands around one of his upper arms. And before you ask, the answer is no—Peyton is not well behaved—but I don’t care. I like bad boys, even if they are cyborgs. So how do you feel about a little get together to meet him? Call me back when you get out of the game.”
She disconnected and frowned. It would have been preferable to wait a couple more days until she was sure Peyton was adapting fully. But her instincts were singing and that was never good. The last time they sang this loudly, Jackson had asked for an official divorce so he could take a Cyber Wife without looking bad to the UCN.
Before the forms had gotten through the legal chain, Jackson’s first Cyber Wife had moved in with him. She had spent the first week of her new single life working with Nero to reset privacy codes throughout the house and lab to respond only to her. When Jackson had come back to the house to get something a few days later, he’d had to wait for her to get home from work to get inside. His shock at her actions to protect herself had been great, but he’d soon adjusted to her new autonomy—as had she.
By that point she’d accepted that she was never in her life going to be able to forgive him.
It didn’t take long after that epiphany for complete apathy to set in about how Jackson was living.
Now she was about to change her life again, only this time she was going completely off the grid. To do the best job of that, she needed to create a side trail of research that would lead any investigation away from Peyton’s true changes to something far less interesting.
Once he’d had a chance to calm down, maybe she could convince the angry Marine to help her.
Chapter 7
Kyra sat at her desk downloading the last of the notes and video from Peyton’s restoration onto the special encryption disks Nero had made for her. In the cage, Peyton used his thumbs to flip screens on a large handheld. She knew he was comprehending about eighty-five percent of the data because she was still wirelessly monitoring his brain activity. Whether he was taking it in with full understanding or not was yet to be determined, but according to his EEG readout, the man was a reading machine.
His occasional grunt of disbelief, followed by a short-lived outburst of swearing, was the only thing that occasionally broke the silence between them. She was bit startled when he finally spoke.
“I give up. I’m obviously not understanding what I’m reading. How could an entire decade of my life be so completely suppressed just by a software program? It seems too improbable to be true.”
Kyra sighed softly as she thought about how to explain it to him. “Before the universal peace pacts were completed, military prisoners of war, including cyber soldiers, were kept on rigidly busy schedules during their captivity. Tasks they were forced to do were part torture and part reward. Surviving the daily grind of getting through them gave prisoners little time to think creatively, much less plot or plan escapes. Those drastic survival routines were an effective tool to keep them physically tired, but the bonus was they worked on their minds as well. When the mind is kept too busy, it forgets how to stop and reflect on anything.”
She got up to pace, studying the floor as she looked for the right words.
“Keeping the mind too busy to do anything but follow routine is pretty much what the constant code programming does to a cyborg’s brain. Your cybernetic chips are kept one hundred percent preoccupied with running a variety of routine tasks. The theory is that the part of the brain producing emotions simply doesn’t get a chance to express itself. In other words, your emotional reactions never got to have their turn using your brain’s synapses. But Peyton, even before you came to me, you were already proving that assumption to be false in some ways. It was just taking your human mind a bit longer to figure out how to exert itself alongside your constantly running cybernetic programs.”
Peyton set down the reading device and stood to pace. It was an action he’d been repeating for the last five hours. His logic chip said the small, walking movement provided nothing beneficial. The other unexplainable motivation compelled him to keep walking until something changed. He decided both reactions were equally frustrating.
“I hate being mentally pulled in two widely varying directions. Every decision now is excruciating. I was just mentally debating whether or not pacing was beneficial. What kind of fucking shit is this to live with? Is it going to be like this forever?”
Kyra sighed at his complaint because she couldn’t answer it. “I don’t know. So far I’ve had a sixty-six percent failure rate with restored cyborgs. I’m hoping you’ll live for a very long time and be able to give the world enough data to eventually answer those sorts of questions.”
Walking back to sit, Kyra swallowed the knot of guilt in her throat and turned to face her keyboard. She switched screens to make a note about what he’d said. Her fingers slipped from the keys when she heard a loud bang behind her. She turned back toward him just as Peyton hit the bars with his fists again. Her gut clenched in disappointment over his show of anger. She waited until he’d calmed enough to go back to his bed and sit before asking her question.
“Are you trying to escape, Captain?”
Peyton shook his head. “No. I’m just blowing off steam. Guess I’m a little louder about slamming around than the average scientist you’re used to seeing get angry.”
Kyra swiveled back and forth in her seat. She hated having to chastise him, but she had to share the information. “You have a chip capable of advising you about acceptable levels of force appropriate for each situation. The software in the chip measures PSI quite efficiently. There’s no reason your new processor can’t access that chip for the necessary data whenever you have need. Are you trying to do so and failing?”
Peyton glared. There was smart and there was smartass. He doubted Kyra Winters knew the difference. “Sure, Doc. I’m failing to access my chips. Why not use that excuse to explain my frustration?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Why don’t you tell me what you think is happening?” Kyra ordered calmly.
“Okay, I�
��ll tell you. I have an urge to rip a couple of these prison bars out of their sockets. Then I want to go find the ones who made the decision to fuck with my life and beat the shit out of them.”
Knowing she was one of those people, Kyra turned calmly back to her keyboard to hide her realization. Obviously Captain Elliot was too emotional at the moment to answer her queries with any degree of rationality. It was promising that he felt so strongly, but at various points she had seen high levels of emotion in both Marshall and Alex too.
Hearing Kyra typing rapidly, Peyton smacked his cybernetic hand loudly on the bars to get her attention again. “Doc—if you write any of that crap fest of whining down, I swear I’m going to spank you hard when I get out of here. If you expect to get anywhere with me, you need to learn the difference between a pissed-off comment and a serious answer.”
“That’s quite a statement coming from the non-emotional cyborg who just became an irrational human again yesterday,” Kyra said, continuing to type her note. “And swearing at me under your breath is not going to get you out of that cage any sooner, Captain.”
Peyton snorted at Kyra’s starchy reply. A part of him—especially the one below his belt—was secretly pleased that, despite being a crybaby, the woman was ballsy enough to talk back to him. He found her defensive attitude reasonable and acceptable given all she had confessed. Since a government level ass-kicking was off the table at the moment, the entertaining distraction of goading the guilt-ridden doctor was at least mildly entertaining.
“Okay. What if I promise to be a good cyborg during your freakish experiments, Dr. Winters? What will that kind of behavior get me?”
Kyra didn’t turn again. . .and she didn’t take the bait. “I’m sure you’re good at a great many things, Captain Elliott. But I bet having patience was never one of them—not even before your cybernetic enhancements. The assimilation process takes time. I suggest you accept that reality as soon as possible.”
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