by Steve Gannon
The technician’s eyes widened. “What the . . .? Cyborgs can’t function without a collar. How—”
The other human began pulling his friend toward the door. “Let’s get out of here,” he said nervously. “Let security handle this.”
She had to act. As primitive as these humans were, they had somehow already discovered her presence. She didn’t know how they knew, but things were about to get worse. Again she reached out with her mind. Quickly she subdued the flickers of consciousness in the two before her, careful not to extinguish them completely.
How fragile these beings are, she thought as they collapsed to the floor.
Then came another thought.
Others will come.
She could subdue them as well, but how long could she continue? It would take time for Command to locate her, and billions of humans inhabited the planet. Could she subdue them all? And even if she could, might not the resulting disturbance attract the Dark Ones?
Once again she realized she had miscalculated. Hiding among these organic creatures would prove more difficult than expected. If she were to survive, she couldn’t afford another mistake. Rapidly she rifled through the minds of the humans on the floor, then the one on the bed. By the time she was finished, she had formed the outline of a plan.
Minutes later a tall woman wearing loosely fitting men’s clothes entered a turbolift to the roof. She rode in silence, speaking to no one. Upon arriving at the taxi zone, she crossed to the landing pad, entered a waiting hovercab, and departed.
* * *
With a groan, Jake eased himself from the taxi, stepping onto the rooftop landing pad of his building complex. The throb between his temples was worse than ever, but with the exception of that, the pleasure-house medics had been unable to find anything wrong with him. They’d had no explanation for what had happened to him in the holochamber, either. In fact, they had become increasingly accusatory when he had been unable to supply an answer himself. The cops who had grilled him had been even less cordial.
“Take care, amigo,” Cameron called from the interior of the cab, shouting to be heard over the rotor whine. “You’re still seeing us off tomorrow, right?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Sorry about tonight.”
“Not as sorry as I am,” Jake yelled back. “Should have picked the redhead,” he added wryly to himself as the hovercab rose into the night. Then, lowering his head against the rotor blast, he crossed to the rooftop elevator.
Perched nine hundred feet above the street, Jake’s quarters occupied one of the more prestigious sections of the building complex in which he lived. Ignoring curious stares from other passengers who entered the lift along the way, Jake descended forty-seven levels to his apartment in silence—his feet bare, the ill-fitting clothes he had borrowed from the pleasure house stretched tight on his large frame. On the descent, not for the first time, he puzzled over the evening’s events.
When he had regained consciousness, the cyborg was gone, along with his clothes. Like the other men there who were attacked, he couldn’t remember much. The authorities had learned most of what happened from the security recordings. Jake had been able to add little. He had refrained from mentioning what he’d seen in the cyborg’s eyes, deciding they wouldn’t have believed him anyway.
When the elevator stopped at his floor, Jake exited, resolving to forget things for the moment. All he wanted to do now was sleep. Exhausted and still slightly drunk, he stumbled down the hallway to his quarters, punched his security code into the door panel, and entered. Once inside, he froze.
A light was burning in the entry. Jake was certain that he had turned off all lights before leaving earlier that evening. Moving quietly, he crept to the hall closet and grabbed a three-iron from his golf bag. Club in hand, he peered into the living room. A flicker from the holovid danced against the far wall.
What sort of thief turns on the HV?
An instant later he saw her standing in the darkness, studying her own three-dimensional image in the HV viewing cube. The cyborg! Jake tightened his grip on the iron and stepped into the room. “What . . . what are you doing here?” he demanded, noting that she had a news broadcast on the display. She also had on his clothes.
Ignoring him, the cyborg continued watching the late-night news, listening as a handsome news anchor described that night’s incident at the Ecstasy Building. The newscaster concluded his piece by warning that authorities considered the escaped cyborg extremely dangerous. Then came a short addendum in which a spokesperson for BioRobotics Inc. insisted that Lara 851’s programming made it impossible for her to harm a human. Nonetheless, the company’s representative had no explanation for why the removal of her control collar had not rendered the sex surrogate inoperable—further stating that the entire Lara series was being recalled.
Next the HV display began flipping through channels, stopping briefly on other stations covering the “Rogue Cyborg” story. Puzzled, Jake glanced at the bookcase, spotting the HV remote control still sitting on the shelf.
The holocube abruptly flicked off. Jake tripped a light switch by the door. “What are you doing here? he repeated.
The cyborg turned toward him, her eyes arrogant and chilling. “I do not intend to harm you,” she said. “Unless you make that necessary.”
Tightening his grip on the golf club, Jake took a step backward, regretting his rash entrance.
“I thought you were attacking me,” she continued. “The other humans tried to deactivate me. I had to stop them.”
Jake shot a look at the front door, considering making a run for it. “How did you get in?”
Lara withdrew Jake’s wallet from a jacket pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table. “I used your credit card to travel here to the address given on your identification.”
“A credit card is no good without the personal code. And how did you enter my quarters?”
“I know your credit card code. I know your door code as well. I know everything about you, Jake Sheridan.”
“How?”
“I accessed your memory.”
“Sure you did.” Jake shot another glance at the door. “What do you want?”
“Because of what happened tonight, the authorities are searching for me.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“In order to escape, I require assistance. You will provide it.”
Jake shook his head. “Wrong. Why should I help you?”
The cyborg took a step closer. “Because I know what you most want, Jake Sheridan. I will give it to you in exchange for your help. If you refuse, I can force you to comply. Either way, you will assist me. Tomorrow we will leave this planet together aboard your colony transport vessel.”
A chill ran up Jake’s spine. “How do you know about the colony transport?”
“I told you. I know everything about you. Everything.”
Again, Jake shook his head. “I’ll admit I want to get on that colony ship tomorrow more than anything, but there’s no way I’m doing it with you. Besides, it would never work. All emigrating females must already have a child or be at least six weeks pregnant at the time of—”
“I know these things,” the cyborg interrupted, moving closer. “You misunderstand me. Look.”
Jake tried to back away. For some reason he found himself unable to move. His brain sent the message; his body simply didn’t respond. Paralyzed, he watched as the cyborg approached.
Lara’s eyes held him, drew him, seeming to grow larger, larger . . . at last becoming black, bottomless pools. Powerless to flee, Jake gazed into a void that suddenly sprang from her eyes, watching in wonder as it filled with stars, and then galaxies, and then universe upon universe. Bewildered, he traveled with her through a myriad of dimensions as she showed him the horror from which she fled. And then she showed him something else.
Jake stared, refusing to accept it. In a distant part of his mind he could hear her explaining how she had regenerated the steri
lized tissues of her body, modified a cell, joined it to his seed, and caused it to grow at an accelerated rate. She showed him what she had created. And then she told him what he must do to have it.
Jake’s mind reeled. Through her eyes, he could see it growing deep within her. Tiny, but already recognizable. A child.
His child.
* * *
Early the next morning, a throng of colonists departing for Regula-4 stood assembled on the colony transport embarkation platform. Lara followed Jake through the initial checkpoint. There she underwent a brief N-scope exam to confirm her pregnancy. Next she and Jake received a series of travel inoculations. Proceeding on, they signed contracts that bound them as indentured Company employees for the next seven years. Finally, emigration papers in hand, they made their way through the milling crowd to the shuttle loading bay. During this entire time Lara made certain to stay close to her human companion, watching him for any sign of betrayal.
“Jake! Over here.”
Lara peered across the mass of humans, spotting a man and woman approaching from the far side of the loading platform. When they arrived, Jake glanced in her direction, then back at the two humans. “Megan, Cam, you, uh, know Tiffany, right?” he said.
The man called Cameron stared. “Huh?”
“Just play along,” Jake whispered. “Please. I’ll tell you about it on the transport.”
Cameron narrowed his eyes at Lara but remained silent.
“Hi, gorgeous,” Jake continued nervously, bending to kiss the slim blond woman who had accompanied Cameron across the room.
Megan returned Jake’s kiss with a hesitant smile. Then she glanced at Lara. “What’s going on, Jake? I know who she is. Her face was all over this morning’s newscast. Despite that awful wig of Tiffany’s she’s wearing, a lot of others are sure to—”
“Not now,” Jake interrupted.
“But . . .”
“Let it go, Megan. Please. I’ll fill you in later.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t have much choice,” said Jake. Then, in an effort to change the subject, he turned to a small boy whom Lara had missed earlier. The child was standing quietly behind Megan, regarding the other humans solemnly.
“Hey, who’s this good-looking kid?” Jake asked, ruffling the child’s hair.
“Hi, Jake,” the boy said, his face breaking into a grin.
“Hi, Adam. Ready to go to your new home?”
“You bet!”
“We all are,” said Cameron, still staring at Lara. “You know which shuttle you’re on?”
“Not yet,” Jake answered.
“You’d better check. I’ll go with you.”
Jake turned to Lara. “Stay here,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Please don’t hurt anyone,” he added softly.
As Jake and Cameron headed across the loading platform, Megan regarded Lara for a long moment. “What did he mean—don’t hurt anyone?”
Lara remained silent.
When Lara didn’t respond, Megan pushed on. “Nice outfit,” she remarked dryly.
Finally Lara spoke. “Jake supplied these clothes from his closet. He said they belonged to a human female named Tiffany.”
“I recognize them.” Another long pause, then, “You’re the cyborg that the authorities are searching for. Where’s your collar? I thought cyborgs couldn’t function without a collar. And how’d you get past the N-scope? Speaking of which, how did you even manage to get past the gate without a colony ID?”
Again Lara didn’t respond, sensing something dangerous about the human named Megan.
“Why is Jake taking you with him?”
Briefly, Lara considered silencing the troublesome human. She rejected that course, deciding too many others were present. At any rate, the mental effort she was using to manipulate the one called Jake—not to mention deceiving the humans at the admission gate and at the N-scope station—was both tenuous and tiring. She concluded from Jake’s demeanor that the safety of the woman, as well as that of her husband and child, might be a more effective way to control his actions.
“You’re not going to answer?” Megan persisted. “Lara, or whoever you are, I hope you understand what Jake is sacrificing for you.”
“He is sacrificing nothing. He wishes to leave this planet. So do I. We made a pact.”
“A pact? We’re leaving everything behind—home, family, friends. When we arrive at Regula-4, Cam and I will have each other, and Adam. What will Jake have? A pact with you? That’s not enough.”
Lara’s thoughts returned unbidden to the lost members of her Triad, and she felt a terrible loneliness welling within. Unexpectedly, she understood what the human named Megan meant by her words.
“Nothing to say?” Megan continued angrily. “All right, then. I’ll make this simple. I don’t understand what’s going on here, but Jake and I have been friends for a long time. If any harm comes to him because of you, I will make you regret it.”
Lara sat beside Jake on the shuttle as it ascended a magnetic transit loop into low orbit. During the journey she felt the eyes of many upon her. Ignoring them, she rode in silence.
After matching velocity with the Patriot—the giant warpship that would be the colonists’ home for the upcoming weeks during transit—the shuttle docked and Lara disembarked with the others, grateful to feel the sensation of gravity again on the warpship. Gradually, the nausea that had tormented her new body during the shuttle ride gradually began to abate. The organic shell in which she had cloaked herself seemed so sensitive at times, so frail. She wondered how this race of beings had survived as long as they had. Granted, their history wasn’t that long, but still . . .
Shortly after boarding the Patriot, all colonists were placed in stasis. It was a routine procedure; even a ship the size of the colony transport could not provide food, water, and waste disposal for five hundred colonists during transit. Unlike the humans, although her body was inactivated like theirs, even in stasis Lara remained aware, and during the early days of the journey she spent a good deal of time puzzling over why she hadn’t heard from Command. Although she had been unable to send a call for help, for doing so would disclose her position to the Dark Ones, those at headquarters must surely be aware of her absence.
Why hadn’t they sent help?
As the days passed, Lara grew bored. Idly, she perused the ship’s onboard computer. Eventually she absorbed the entire contents of its memory, including a vast library of fictional works and a diverse selection of technical publications covering subjects from physiology, anatomy, and molecular biology to mathematics, chemistry, medicine, and physics. And gradually, despite the humans’ obvious limitations, she began to find a few of their aspects intriguing. Their music, for instance, was fascinating—far more than the sum of its parts. And who would have guessed that their social interactions, even without mind-to-mind contact, could be so complex?
To relieve her boredom, she also turned her mind inward and examined the growing spark that was developing in her womb. At first she had been content to simply monitor its development, but before long she began to take an active part—making small additions and subtle alterations to the minuscule clump of cells. It was an interesting diversion, but one she knew she couldn’t continue much longer. Help would soon come, and she had made irreversible modifications to the physical form that she’d taken. When she departed, her body would perish—along with the child she had started within.
But slowly, as the insignificant bit of life unfolded and changed and grew inside her, Lara’s new body began to change as well.
Twenty-two days after departure, ship’s coordinate time, the Patriot dropped out of warpspace and emerged once more into the space-time continuum. Dead ahead the central star of the Regula system burned brightly, and six hours later the colony transport swung into orbit around the fourth planet out. Upon scanning the new world, the Patriot’s sensors revealed that Regula-4 had undergone significant climatic
changes since the Company’s last survey. The planet’s mean surface temperature had fallen nearly two degrees—not much in the geologic scheme of things, but enough to begin locking up water-ice in the polar caps. Snow now covered a large portion of the landmasses in both hemispheres.
The science team was unable to determine whether the meteorologic development was a temporary cycle or a harbinger of something worse. Nevertheless, because the Patriot carried insufficient fuel to transport all five hundred emigrants back to Earth, most had no choice but to depart. Although it was possible for a few to return home, of the five hundred colonists who had made the journey, four hundred and ninety-one elected to stay.
A revised landing site was chosen closer to the equatorial plane, and two days later all forty-seven cargo shuttles, laden with passengers, supplies, and equipment, descended to the surface. Shortly afterward the Patriot lifted out of orbit, leaving the colonists to fend for themselves.
The first weeks on the wintry planet were devastating.
Each night the air turned colder; each day the winds grew stronger. Shelter and warmth being of primary concern, all energies were initially devoted to assembly of the null-field domes, leaving a huge mound of mining gear, farming equipment, and transportation vehicles to be reclaimed after the spring thaw . . . if it ever came.
A dome of sufficient size to house the entire community, at least temporarily, was quickly erected. Next, lesser domes were energized. By the time snow from the escalating storms covered the frozen ground, the core of the base had been constructed—central fusion reactor operational, hydroponic tanks and food processors online, medical facilities functional. At that point, although nine colonists had succumbed to the harsh environment, morale was high. The settlement’s chief problem consisted of several puzzling cases of fever that had broken out in one of the perimeter domes. Concluding that Company physicians had missed an organism when they were developing their inoculation regime, the colony medical team quarantined all sick members and began searching for the fever’s cause.
