Peyton shook his head. “I can’t walk unhindered yet.”
She ducked her head and slapped a hand down by her console. “I’m not a prick teasing kind of woman, but I am mostly an ethical one. I told you that before we started.”
Peyton considered the statement and chose to agree with it. Kyra was sexually frustrating him, but he didn’t think she was doing it deliberately.
“What do you think is going to happen when we’re sharing a bed in your room, Doc? This arousal situation is going to come up again. I’m highly attracted to you even though part of me still hates your guts. I’m also a heartbeat away from losing my bearing over you. In Marine terms, that’s some damn hard data toward proving I really am becoming irrationally human again.”
Kyra drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know what’s going to happen between us. I’ll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it. At this point though, I don’t think it’s wise for me to form any sort of personal attachment to you, considering I have to send you away eventually.”
“How about you sit on my bridge support post tonight and we’ll discuss your attachment issues after I’ve made us both feel better a few times?” Peyton asked.
“Bridge support post?” Kyra was too surprised by his use of such a strange term to be offended at the blatant pass he was making.
Peyton rose to a straight sitting position. His brain hurt and he couldn’t access the right term for the force absorbing metal beams holding up a bridge. “I can find no better word at the moment. I guess choosing wrong ruined my joke, didn’t it?”
“Hmm. . .” Kyra said, getting up to walk back to him.
On the way, she grabbed his shirt and carried it with her. She watched him put it back on and chided herself for feeling regret.
“That kind of blip is mildly concerning. We’ll need to keep an eye on your inability to access information when in stressful situations. It could be that hormonal surges in both genders have a more profound effect on cybernetics than we realized. I knew that was the case with women. No one ever investigated the effect of arousal in male cyborgs. Maybe there’s a difference between organic desire and performing on command.”
“That’s too much geek speak about something simple, Doc. I get hard whenever you’re near, which would scramble any man’s mind—cyborg or human. Your real husband was an idiot to leave a woman as sexy as you. I bet I could easily give you three or four orgasms per lovemaking session. I bet you could give me one that would shut my brain down faster than the creator code did.”
“Stop, Peyton. That’s an experiment I can’t engage in with you. And I can’t discuss this anymore,” Kyra said, walking back to her desk. “Let me save the recording and I’ll give you a tour of the rest of the house.”
“If you’re being monitored, I’ll need to follow standard protocol and perform husband duties for you.” Peyton waited for a reaction but got none. “Kyra, did you have a personal relationship with Alex? Considering I have to act like your actual Cyber Husband, I’ve decided the information is pertinent. I need to know how to conduct myself.”
Ignoring the little thrill she got from Peyton saying her name, Kyra got up and walked to the door, motioning for him to follow. She supposed he had a point about needing to know.
“Alex and I were barely able to pull off anything normal at all. We had a moment in the beginning, but one that never went anywhere. After his full assimilation, Alex never got aroused with me again. Maybe it was because I replaced most of his chips with blank ones he could self-program with new experiences. I pulled his Cyber Husband chip during the initial restoration so maybe I wasn’t his natural type. Depression affects libido too, so that’s yet another possibility. Alex wasn’t alive long enough for us to discover the real cause of his disinterest. He slept beside me without complaint. Since I wasn’t interested in using him for sex, investigating his lack of interest in me was not at the top of my list of concerns.”
Peyton felt sorry for his predecessor, but couldn’t keep the grin from his face. The strange feeling of relief coursing through him cleared something critical out of the way. Suddenly, the analysis data was available to his mind, as well as many other things.
“Trusses,” he said in epiphany. “Bridges use trusses. That’s what I meant to say earlier. And I now I get your metaphor as well. You’re definitely going to have to cross that bridge with me eventually, Doc. The interest I have in you is not going away until we resolve what’s between us.”
Peyton saw her nod at the correct term as she stepped across the lab’s threshold.
Chapter 9
Across town, Nero sat in the cloaked area of his living room going over the data Kyra had replicated for him. It included a recording she’d had the lab cameras take during the entire nineteen hour assimilation process. Her tears over Peyton 313 alarmed him because he couldn’t recall ever seeing Kyra cry so much before, not even over Jackson. She’d had a moment or two with the other cyborgs after their deaths, but his gut was telling him Kyra’s feelings for Captain Elliott were something vastly different.
After watching some of the segments several times, Nero put his concern for Kyra’s emotional state away to focus on an even bigger problem he was starting to suspect. If he was right, Kyra’s latest cyborg was running some sort of secondary programming. He wasn’t sure how it had survived the restoration, but something in Peyton 313’s cybernetics seemed to be intentionally recording tons of data—all kinds of data. Nero had a hunch the secondary programming had always been running in the background, even when Peyton’s primary processor had been missing. That meant the extra processor had to have its own power source, though where it could reside in the man was a bit of a mystery.
What he feared was some part of Peyton hadn’t shut down even when Kyra had disabled the cybernetics with the creator’s code. If that was the case—it meant Captain Peyton Elliott was a cyborg plant.
Nero poured over the cyborg’s EEG records looking for blips in normal brain activity. Finally, he found what he’d been searching for. When he correlated the blip with Peyton’s time in the cage, he found a missing segment of the lab recording close by—just under eight minutes worth to be exact. Since it looked more like scrambling than erasure, Nero picked up his handheld com.
“Hey Brad. Are you available right now? I need your magic on some data I’m analyzing for Kyra. Yeah sure, I’ll pay the usual—German beer and Thai food. No problem. Great. Come as soon as you can.”
He ordered the food after they disconnected. A few minutes later, a slender man appeared on his building monitor requesting entry. Brad’s condo wasn’t far from his, but he’d made the trip in record time. Brad popped through the door when he buzzed him through.
“Dude—I tried to beat the food here. Thought I’d take a quick look at it before we eat. Can I attach?”
Nero swung his portable toward Brad when his skinny friend landed in the chair next to his desk. “Start at 23:28. The cyborg was shut down and in the second half of a complete reboot. According to Kyra’s visual records, Peyton was asleep while assimilating his cybernetic data. But there’s an eight minute stretch of recording showing nothing but snow. If something happened during that time period, I want to know about it.”
Nero watched Brad shove a porta-disk into the free connect port on the side of his machine. Accessing a small window, Brad typed a couple old-fashioned commands to boot the app manually. Nero swore when his portable launched into over-juicing mode, its crystalline energy pack straining and complaining under the program’s demands.
“Damn it. Don’t fry my new portable, Brad. I just got it.”
“The manual boot on this new version of the app is hell. It takes a lot to get her started, but after that she hums normally. Kind of like my girlfriend. I named the application after her,” Brad said, grinning at the glare directed his way. “Relax, bro. I got this. If there is anything under that snow, Gloria will find it. Well holy shit, dude. You were right. Look a
t this.”
Nero leaned in as Brad typed and enhanced. They saw Peyton 313 get up from the bed and walk to the cage door. Reaching up to his scalp, he opened a compartment on the side of his head, but not the one where his cybernetics were installed. He took something out of the extra compartment—it looked a bit like a security bypass—and pointed it at the cage door. When it slid open, he walked out and over to Kyra’s desk. He took another small device out of the same compartment and put it under her desk on a small ledge meant to hold a power cable. Then he turned and walked back into the cage. He said something that was unintelligible through the snow and the door slid shut like it had been programmed to obey his voice commands.
Peyton 313 then returned to his sleeping position like nothing had happened.
Nero leaned back in his chair and shook his head. So Captain Peyton Elliot—Cyber Husband number three for Kyra—was indeed sent to spy on her. Norton really was investigating and they had spared no expense to do it. Part of him had secretly hoped it was just grief over the dead asswipe making Kyra paranoid. She had never really recovered from Jackson’s defection. She’d retired rather than work on children. . .and he got that. Hell, if his job had involved hurting kids, he would have refused to do it as well.
Now the question was whether or not the data stored in the device under her desk had been sent out already. That had to be determined before they could do anything to the cyborg. Brad could help them alter the records on the device, but nothing could change the fact that Norton was never going to leave her alone. With Jackson dead, Kyra Winters was the only person alive with full creator knowledge. And she had so far refused to give anyone the secrets to the creator code—not even to him. All attempts to decode it had resulted in melted files. Even Brad hadn’t been able to crack it yet.
“Dude—you have to tell Dr. Winters her new Borg Man is a double-wired bad guy,” Brad declared. Reviewing it again, he watched the cyborg re-enter the cage and fasten the door behind him. It gave him a chill when the unit laid back down and went to sleep. “Spooky shit that he did all that and never tried to actually escape the lab. That’s some radical programming.”
Nero nodded. Not only did he have to tell Kyra that Captain Peyton Elliott was double-wired, he also had to get her away from the cyborg before it was too late.
“Capture that blip as best you can. Download the part that shows what happened to a separate file. You know how much a stickler for details she is. Kyra is never going to believe me unless I can show her both the snow and what’s under it. But we also need to admit to ourselves that the cyborg games have started for real now. Pass the word along to everyone. Kyra has to move quickly.”
Brad frowned and nodded. “Hope that beer gets here soon. I’m going to need some lubrication to deal with this heavy shit. Guess I better tell the real Gloria I don’t have time to get her processor revving tonight.”
Nero slapped Brad on his back as he rose. Life was about to change for all of them. Fortunately, Peyton 313 wasn’t the only one with secrets.
***
“I don’t understand, Doc. The master bedroom is down the hall. Why do you sleep in this much smaller room?”
Peyton estimated walking from one wall to the other would take no more than eight steps. He tested his theory and discovered it was accurate. He paced the width of the room a second time to confirm.
Kyra walked to the closet and slid it open. The guest room was much smaller than the master, but she had made it her own space. That’s what mattered most because it allowed her to stay in the house after Jackson left. She lifted her black robe from a hook inside the tiny closet, then got her favorite pajamas from their shelf.
“It’s just a matter of personal choice and I prefer to sleep in here. However. . .in the master bedroom closet you’ll find an assortment of men’s clothing. You’re welcome to use any of it. Some of it I purchased for Alex. Some of it is Jackson’s old clothing. I don’t have any men’s pajamas, but there are exercise shorts that should do for tonight.”
Peyton narrowed his gaze on her face checking for signs of nervousness. All he found was a bone deep weariness that had dramatically reduced her overall heat signature. Kyra Winters badly needed rest.
“Thank you, but I don’t require clothing to sleep. They should be shipping my belongings here shortly. I don’t know why it wasn’t packed and delivered when I was. According to my files, that is standard procedure when a Cyber Husband is delivered to a new wife.”
“Norton probably thought I wouldn’t really keep you. Who knows? I’m tired and heading to the shower, Peyton. And whether you do or not, I require you to wear clothing to bed. I sleep on the left side. You can have the right. It’s a queen mattress, but there should be enough room for the two of us.”
Kyra’s calm irritated him. He wanted her to be aroused again in his presence. Something insistent in him wanted to make her feel that way. “As you wish, Doc. I’m looking forward to sharing your bed under any circumstances.”
“Don’t start flirting again. I’m too tired to deal with it tonight.” On the way out, Kyra stopped in the bedroom door and held up her wrist. “All we’re doing tonight is sleeping. Do I need to remind you about our earlier discussion? I do not require your sexual services.”
Peyton stared at her. Her thundering heartbeat did not match her calm words. And her smell. . .no that had to be ignored for now. “I recall each discussion we’ve had specifically, if that’s what you’re asking. Would you like me to pull up the data and read one back to you for proof?”
Kyra shook her head, almost too tired to do so. Her tiredness had taken over after they had eaten. “That won’t be necessary if you keep a respectful distance between us. You can use the bathroom next to the master bedroom to prepare for bed. I never go in there anymore, but I think the cleaning service has kept it stocked with supplies.”
“Why do you not go in there?” Peyton asked.
“Because it’s haunted by ghosts,” Kyra replied, trying to be patient. She wanted his cooperation, but Peyton was treading on ground she wasn’t ready to cover with him yet.
Peyton stared at Kyra for another thirty-five seconds before answering. “There is no scientific proof that ghosts exist. Your belief in their existence is illogical, Dr. Winters.”
Kyra rolled her eyes and sighed at his very rational observation. “Yes. I tell myself that all the time. But when I go into that room, I still see a frightened woman tied helplessly to the bedposts while her husband did all sorts of horrible things to her.”
“I see.” Well, he didn’t yet. . .but he sure as hell intended to find out. “Too bad you lack the ability to completely erase a sight like that from your memory. I guess that’s one positive about being a cyborg.”
Responding calmly to her explanation was very challenging when he wanted to have one of those outbursts she kept warning him about. He didn’t allow himself to do so because he was afraid she would put him back into the cage if he did.
Kyra sighed and nodded. “Yes. I’ve often thought it would be nice to forget the whole thing completely. It’s okay though. The woman managed to get over it by moving into this bedroom. A month later her husband moved out of the house and never bothered her again. That was years ago. Now she’s mostly over it.”
“The ghost—are you saying the frightened woman tied to the bedposts was you?”
“Yes, Captain Elliot. And I’m also saying I can’t go back to that room to sleep. Any more questions before I get clean? I’m nearly too tired to bathe.”
Peyton heard a clicking in his head and realized he was snapping his teeth together. “No. I have no more questions. I’ll be here waiting for your return. I promise I will be wearing clothing of some sort.”
Nodding at his agreement, Kyra slipped down the hall.
Peyton felt his anger rising. He looked around for something to bend in half, but there was nothing. He paced the width of the small room several more times until the feeling of wanting to kill someone rec
eded to a manageable level. Finally he headed to the master bedroom in search of clothing. She had given him no other choice.
He glanced at the bed in the room, imagined Kyra tied to it for real, and vowed to destroy it first chance he got. Any decent man, cyborg or not, would have done the same. After directing his time management program to make a note about doing so, he went to the closet.
On one side were beautiful dresses and an assortment of feminine footwear. He slid a red high-heeled shoe from its storage space and held it in his hands. He couldn’t imagine Kyra Winters—flat sandal wearing cyber scientist—walking around in such a thing. Putting it back, he moved his attention to the other side.
As Kyra had indicated, there was a variety of male clothing. Hoping to use some of the previous cyborg’s clothes, instead of anything belonging to the dead man who had obviously abused Kyra, he ordered his cybernetic eyes to scan the cloth in a way he could determine which threads looked newest. Several pair of jogging shorts made the list. He held a pair up to his lower half and saw the fit would be a bit tight but manageable.
Peyton carried them into the master bathroom. His shower time was calculated for maximum efficiency because he wanted to be in bed and settled in before Kyra got there. He also wanted time to set his mood to a more calming level that would foster her trust and let her rest.
He was adjusting his pillow when Kyra finally returned. Reaching over, he flipped the covers back so she could climb in beside him. She did so hesitantly, sighing as she stretched out. Her stretching froze when he scooted next to her and pulled her tense body against his.
“I am wearing the clothing you requested. Please allow this minimal contact for warmth and relaxation. It will help you rest,” he whispered, sweeping her damp hair back. “Now close your eyes, Doc. You are completely safe with me tonight. I won’t exceed the boundary you’ve set.”
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