“I should be on top of her,” Nero exclaimed.
Then it hit him. Maybe he was. Maybe some crazy person had buried her alive.
His fears multiplied exponentially as he stepped back and stared at the ground. It didn’t seem to be overturned or disturbed. Without prompting, Vincent came over and started looking at the ground too. Nero watched the cyborg stoop and pick up something. The tracker lit a steady stream again and screamed its success when Vincent held it close. He reached out and plucked the item from Vincent’s hand.
“Goddess, no,” Nero whispered, closing his eyes when he’d confirmed what it was.
They’d just found Aja’s cybernetic fingernail where he’d stored the tracking device.
After Eric and Lucy had moved out of the bunker, Kyra had converted it into a special medical infirmary for cyborgs. Each of the underground levels was suitable for restraining, constraining, and facilitating restoration. Peyton had arranged for cyborg guards on the whole building to make sure no one they put in the bunker went anywhere.
They had placed all the converted kids on the first level, closest to the surface, without waking them yet. She’d given the children something to help them sleep a bit longer. As soon as she had properly rested, she would begin looking to see if the neural enhancements made to the students could be reversed. If reversal wasn’t possible, she’d seek the most modification she could as a recourse.
When Nero got back, she would punt that piece of neural decoding work off to him. He was faster at coding these days than she was. Stress was wearing her down, but how could she get away to rest? There was still so much to do.
Peyton and King personally delivered the two dead UCN elite guards back with a bogus story about them having died during the attack of the man-tanks, as King called them. For good measure, Kyra had sent along a photo of Peyton next to the mechanized monstrosity they’d brought back with them.
One day soon she was going to have to take a good look at it, but she couldn’t today. She just couldn’t. Her mental plate was full.
The German engineers were being held on a floor by themselves. At first, they loudly grumbled and groaned about their inhumane treatment. Later… after being shown Meara’s pictures of the dead bodies of their peers… the two engineers had turned white with shock, settled down, and become very cooperative. Especially when Rio Sanchez, who turned out to be their co-worker, identified them as among the first to volunteer their services to the evil mastermind behind the mechanical abominations.
Before waking the two additional New World Companions Will and Meara had rescued Kyra installed interim processors. Until Nero returned from his personal hunt for Aja, all she could do was stabilize them enough to not have to be kept unconscious all the time. No one had even been able to ID them yet. Eric and Marcus were both too busy looking for Aja.
Luckily, this temporary solution had rendered the newly rescued New World Companions robotic but mostly safe to be around. This was the same fix Kyra had been forced to use on the two original found females—two others from Lucy’s old unit—that she and Peyton had put in medical long ago.
With Lucy insisting on standing guard, the New World Companions Meara had brought back had been locked in the expansion cages made from Lucy’s old cell. It was in the bottom-most level, where pinging signals from their thankfully absent creator wouldn’t be so quick to get through to them.
“Lucy?” Kyra called out, rounding the last set of cement steps.
“Still here,” Lucy said, not moving from her seat.
“How are they?” Kyra asked.
“Restless, but their adrenaline levels are staying in the normal range. If anything, they seem fairly Zen about being in a cage. I don’t think I ever got that resigned to being constrained.”
“You didn’t,” Kyra confirmed. “That’s why I knew you’d find a way back to us. Your will was stronger than anything anyone did to you.”
“How are those college kids doing?”
“Hibernating,” Kyra said. “I gave them all mild sedatives to ensure they stayed under while I took a cursory look at one of them.”
“Can you reverse what was done?”
Kyra shook her head. “My investigation wasn’t that thorough, but the short answer is probably not completely. The tentacles of the neural processor merge with the person’s own nerve endings. They grow together in a very short time. Removing them causes severe and debilitating brain damage. You and Will are prime examples of how the body can fight those effects, but not all brains seem able to do so.”
“Is that why you haven’t fixed Kathryn and Lynette? Are you saying they have brain damage that isn’t showing any signs of healing itself?”
Kyra knew Lucy blamed herself for not having been able to save them. “Yes. Like you, they smashed their own cybernetic compartments trying to destroy themselves. It was all I could do to install enough cybernetics to keep them alive. Their condition may not be fixable at all, but I’m not ready to give up yet. Working on you has given me more hope.”
Lucy frowned and sighed as she shifted in her seat. “I got really lucky—didn’t I?”
Kyra walked over and sat on the couch beside her. “Some would call it luck I suppose. Mostly you had Peyton as your champion. He convinced me not to do the same thing to you that I did to them. He said the real you was still in there and trying like hell to get out. With the bomb you carried, I couldn’t have shut you down enough to do what I did to them anyway. Ironically, it was your set of special cyber soldier circumstances that ultimately demanded a different solution. Even the accidental processor switch Eric activated in you helped your brain make new synapses.”
Lucy turned her face to Kyra’s earnest one. She had to try to save the woman who’d done the impossible for her and so many other cyborgs. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but it wasn’t your ex-husband I killed, Kyra. I killed someone who looked like him while the real Jackson Channing watched and instructed me about what to do. He had me trained to kill nearly as well as he had Will trained. I know you believe you buried Jackson Channing, but Kyra… you didn’t.”
Kyra shrugged. “Creator Omega is not Jackson, Lucy. Eric found a limited video of a white-coated scientist going into Will’s room shortly after I restored him and started his assimilation. Even though the visuals weren’t completely clear in the footage, I saw that man well enough to tell you for sure he wasn’t Jackson. It wasn’t Jackson’s hair, his face, or his body. The man I buried personally was Jackson’s image in every way. I’m not sure what you remember, Lucy… or why you believe it so sincerely. I don’t have any way to reconcile all I know with what you’re saying.”
That made Lucy pause. “So, it’s not that you don’t believe me. You just have no data pointing to it as a truth.”
“I suppose that’s a fair conclusion of my doubt,” Kyra cautiously admitted.
“Fine. Then I’ll find proof. I’ll start looking as soon as we get these newbies on the path to recovery,” Lucy said firmly, finally seeing a purpose for all the free time she seemed to have these days.
“Okay. I suggest you start by reading the autopsy results that I signed off on. I don’t even mind if you go to the mausoleum and collect some of his ashes for DNA testing. Just get me to sign a permission slip for the caretaker before you attempt that.”
Lucy snorted. “Your adrenaline spiked just now. I can tell my determination pisses you off. Why?”
Kyra sighed. “Because I did my own testing before allowing Jackson’s body to be cremated. If the laws had been changed the way Jackson was campaigning to have done, you would have been allowed to control what happened when he died. Instead, everything concerning Jackson fell to me to take care of via his official last will and testament naming me beneficiary.”
“What?” Lucy said, stunned by all that news. “I don’t know what shocks me more. The fact that society would ever in a million years consider a comatose New World Companion the legal wife of a lunatic or that you teste
d his DNA before he died to see if it was really him.”
“The latter is easily explainable,” Kyra said flatly. “My marriage to Jackson ended poorly. However, our professional relationship became openly adversarial in the last five years he was alive. At the time of his death, Jackson and I were practically sworn enemies.”
Lucy nodded. “I understand how relationships can change over time… trust me.”
Kyra nodded to. “I know you do.” She sighed before telling the rest. “The young idealist I married in college grew into a heartless, cruel man bent on controlling everyone he could. More than money, Jackson wanted to be famous and to rule his own little utopia. I always wondered what the hell the UCN promised Jackson for the evil shit he did for them. It pleases me to believe Jackson died and never got any of it.”
“Is that why you’re so adamant?” Lucy asked.
“No. I’m adamant because the DNA check was a positive match to Jackson’s medical records. Basically, I just validated what the mortician listed in the report.”
Lucy snorted. “Do you think my brain conjured up a phantom dictator in my memory of that day?”
“No,” Kyra said with a headshake. “I think Bradley Smith programmed you to kill your cyber husband to prove his own worth to the UCN. He also told me he was the one who programmed you to destroy your own cybernetic compartment. Bradley bragged to me that the UCN paid him to do things like that because Jackson had gone a bit too mad-scientist rogue with their funding. I think Bradley made you do everything you did that day which could explain the man you say talked you through the killing. And honestly, I think you would have killed any guy your New World Companion programming identified as your contract.”
“Wow,” Lucy said, scrubbing her face with her hand. “You got it all worked out so well that I almost believe you too.” She sighed heavily. “There’s just one problem.” Turning, she met Kyra’s gaze. “You know that voice that kept me alive and sane all those years I was being tortured? The one I told you I called the Other?”
“Yes,” Kyra said, nodding.
Lucy leaned close just as Peyton rounded the corner. “She’s telling me I’m right about this and you’re wrong. I don’t know how that’s possible yet, Kyra. Maybe I’ll find out she’s the one who’s wrong. But think about this… if that crazy bastard you divorced isn’t dead, you of all people need to accept it and start thinking of how in hell to stop him.”
They’d posted themselves outside Rio Sanchez’s room to wait for Cassandra to gain clearance and get there.
“You don’t have to do this,” Will grumbled.
Meara grunted from her seat beside him. “Shut up. I’m here for ya. Like any decent friend would fecking be. Now here she comes. Stand up and put on yer best captain face. Yar going to need it.”
Will stood when Cassandra started running down the medical center’s hallway toward him. She was sobbing uncontrollably when she threw herself into his arms for a hug. Her relief echoed through him with powerful memories of the love they once shared, and just for a fleeting moment more, he wished all those emotions she was feeling were actually for him.
The first words from her mouth completely wiped away the last tiny spark of hope he’d been fooling himself with.
“You found Rio? You really found him?” Cassandra said when she could control her voice enough to choke out the questions.
Will nodded as she pushed away from him and wiped her eyes.
“I thought he was… I guess it was like… Oh, God. Rio. Rio.”
When Cassandra dissolved again and covered her face with her hands, Meara rose and went to stand beside Will. His jaw had hardened, but she’d seen his face when he’d been hugging her. There was still a bunch of stuff the man had to let go of because the crying woman wasn’t going to give him any choice.
Meara cleared her throat. “Dry yer tears before ya go in. Rio’s alive, but he’s going to be traumatized for a bit. They’ve been giving him liquids and letting him suck on ice chips.”
“What happened to him?” Cassandra asked.
Meara looked at Will, who was staring over his ex-wife’s head. Evidently, the man was going to need her tough love for a fecking long time to come.
She lifted her booted foot and kicked his leg—hard. Will’s angry gaze met hers as he yelped in painful surprise.
“Damn it, Meara. If you don’t stop doing that…” Will lifted his leg and rubbed it.
The bent position put him eyeball-to-eyeball with a still weeping Cassandra. He turned slightly and glared at Meara, who narrowed her eyes in warning. His glare shifted to Cassandra. He would be compassionate, but he’d be damned if he’d be nice about it.
“Rio fought the same bastard I did, but he did a better job of surviving. If your husband wants you to know the details of what happened to him, he’ll tell you. It’s not a pretty story. I suggest you count your blessings instead and be grateful he’s alive. We only managed to save two people who were in that fucking cage they had him in and your new husband was one of them.”
Cassandra made a strangled sound. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Then she opened them and turned to face Will.
“I know you hate me—hate what I did—but you need to accept that our divorce was inevitable. I was a loyal wife to you but I stopped believing in our marriage when you made the decision to be converted. You knew how I felt about it and yet you did it anyway. Sure, unlike Lucy’s husband, I took a different route in handling my disappointment, and I would have spent every dime I had to buy you if you’d shown up in the Cyber Husband program. But if you’d loved me the way you probably tell yourself you did, then why would you ever choose to become this thing that would always take you away from me…”
She sobbed again as she waved a hand in front of Will’s body.
“The military killed the man I loved and married long before that crazy bastard ever got hold of you. And I know neither of us can change the past. I forgive you for not being the husband I needed, William Talon. Now you need to forgive me for wanting to be another man’s wife. Rio loves me differently than you did and he would never, ever make the same choices. He would never put anything above me and the children.”
“No,” Will said, sighing heavily as he reminded Sanchez’s sick pleading with him to tell Cassandra he loved her. “You’re right, Cassandra. Rio Sanchez wouldn’t make that same choice… and when given the chance to save himself by doing it, he didn’t. Plus, he refused to help the crazy scientist who captured him do it to others. That’s why he was in that cage.”
“Will,” Cassandra said, her soft tone pleading for his understanding. She put a hand on Will’s chest. “Our time is gone, but the kids want to see you. Don’t abandon them again. They had a hard time losing you as well. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving Rio. You’ll always be my hero—maybe everyone’s hero. I accepted long ago that this is what you were meant to do. Make peace with it, Will… and me. Please.”
Then Cassandra walked swiftly away and into the room behind them. They heard Rio talking to her and Cassandra crying hard again.
They stood there in silence for a full couple of minutes. Suddenly, Meara couldn’t handle any more. Everyone, Meara thought, had a limit. She’d just found hers.
“Well, okay then,” Meara said cheerily, pitching her voice louder than the sobbing. “I’m glad we got closure on doing our good deed, aren’t ya? Maybe tomorrow ya’ll even be happy that ya took the high road with the mother of yer children. I’ll cross my fecking fingers for ya. And she’s right, Will, ya should go see yer kids first chance ya get. They’re probably wondering why ya haven’t been in touch. Children are like that—or so I hear.”
Rolling her eyes at Will’s non-answer and the stony stare he directed her way, Meara sighed as she headed down the hall and away from him. She had more important things to worry about than the state of Will’s unresolved feelings for his ex-wife tonight.
Not only did she believe Creator Omega had escaped the
building before it imploded, she now feared the fecking bastard had somehow got hold of Aja. What other explanation could there be when they were right at the door of his lair all that time?
Goddess only knew what the bastard would do to her. Thinking about it gave her chills, so she vowed not to do it until she had no choice. After a good night’s sleep, she was going to go back to that fecking forest and do her own investigating. She was a damn good tracker—always had been.
Next time she found the fecking bastard hiding out somewhere, she would call for a real army to come help kill him once and for all. There would be no more hesitation. The man needed to die for even a fraction of all he’d done.
“Aja, where are ya?” Meara whispered into the night. “I’m spiraling without ya.”
Not that she didn’t trust Nero had done his best to find her friend. The man became a mess after Corporal Asgard had declared the trail cold. Last time she’d seen Nero, the scientist had been staring at Aja’s cybernetic fingernail like it held the secrets of the fecking universe. The brooding male was going to be no help at all to Kyra in his current condition.
All those kids needed to be restored. And the New World Companions still needed to be redefined. What in fecking hell would Kyra do without Nero being a hundred percent in the game?
Sighing over her concerns for everyone but herself, Meara pulled the black face covering out of her clothing and tugged it on. Deciding she needed to clear her head, she opted to run the three hundred and forty-two blocks from the medical center to her apartment to make sure she was tired enough later to sleep.
“Well, look at that. I just did math without thinking about it,” Meara said in surprise, realizing she’d just casually calculated the distance home.
She looked up at the sky and pondered the mysteries of all she’d never understand. One of them ought to be why she’d fallen in love with a cyborg who might never love her back. But no, that would have been too normal for her. Instead, she was feeling thankful she’d survived going into a place where a horrible madman was turning children into cybernetic slaves.
William 874X_Book 5 of Cyborgs_Mankind Redefined Page 18
