Anger rose swiftly and propelled Rachel from her seat. She started toward the bars with no clue about what she intended to do to free herself or stop the white-coated man from tormenting her. She wanted to shake him and make him take back his statements.
Marcus was not dead and she refused to accept that possibility.
Before she touched the bars, she saw him take a remote from his pocket. The hum of the electrical charge returned. She halted inches away from them, glaring through the metal poles. Beyond them her tormentor smiled.
“Oh, if only I could find a way to let you retain your emotional spunk. I’m sure you’d be lots more fun to spend time with after your programming is done. Unfortunately, I have to throttle your fight or flight urges to make you a companion. I’ve only just recently found a way for the logic chip to work with your higher thinking. If I’m successful, you’ll at least be able to solve puzzles better than a state-of-the-art com when I get done with you. I suppose no scientist should expect to get everything accomplished in just a third prototype. Though technically you were the first one—until Bradley let you fall into the wrong hands.”
“Technically, I’m going to be your last prototype,” Rachel said firmly, not sure where her courage was coming from. What did she have to lose in her rebellion? Nothing. Today might be the last day she had a voice to speak up for herself. She finally had nothing to lose.
“Override alpha lancaster 985…”
A pressure inside her head grew and then paused when he stopped speaking. She watched his head move back and forth.
“No. On second thought, a full shutdown would only create more work on your freshly restored chips. I’ll just see you in the morning. Rest or don’t. The choice is still yours for now.”
Rachel watched him walk to the women on the tables. He took a remote out of his pocket and pointed it at each in turn. She found their sudden agile movements on the table after their prolonged stillness to be alarming.
Were they some kind of human-looking AI units? It was like the doctor had turned them on. But it was against global laws to make artificial intelligence units look too realistic.
Or were they perhaps the two prototypes he had hinted about?
She couldn’t accept—wouldn’t accept—that what she was witnessing was going to be her future.
“Companions rise and follow. I require entertaining.”
Rachel stared as both rose to sitting positions and swung their shapely bare legs over the side. Each was about the same age she was and had similar coloring. Each also had a blank gaze as she slid from the bed and landed lightly on the floor in her pristine high-heeled shoes.
Like perfectly programmed bots, they trailed after the doctor who stepped outside and held the door open for their exit.
And then there was complete silence in the room again, except for the humming bars of her cage. Alone once more, the horror caught up with her. She covered her face with her hands.
What if Marcus really was dead?
And what had they done to Edward? Poor Edward. He’d only been present because he was her friend.
The magnitude of her sadness was reflected in the giant ache in her chest at the thought she had inadvertently hurt the best two men she’d ever known.
In emotional agony, Rachel curled up on the cot and hugged her knees as she prayed to the goddess Marcus was still alive.
***
Eric sat at the table and stared at the man who’d he known as well as any brother. All he could think is this must have been what they had been like in the Cyber Husband program. The man across the conference table was very polite and very much not Marcus. There was no complaining about inactivity, no anxiety over what might be happening to Rachel, which was a bullshit that defied any cursing description.
Instead, Marcus was eerily calm and focused only on what was logical to do. But the problem didn’t have a logical solution. Fucking UCN bastards and their mad cyber scientists. His angry gaze swung to Kyra Winters, the only one he didn’t feel like killing outright.
“You can’t leave him like this, Doc. You fixed him once. Do it again.”
Kyra lifted her chin and met Eric’s gaze. “Patience is called for at the moment. I can replace the vanilla logic chip I put in him with another more restoration friendly model, but I’m letting Nero have a crack at recovering his previous one first. While the logic chip didn’t control his entire personality, it did work in conjunction with his revised military chip and all the others Marcus had chosen to retain. We want what is stored on them to be retrievable if we can make it happen.”
“I can’t handle seeing him like this,” Eric declared.
“It’s not quite as bad as it seems. His processor is treating this new logic chip like it’s an upgrade. I have all the other chips ignoring it at the moment so it can’t do anything to them. I don’t want to traumatize Marcus more than necessary so I’ve left him in a bit of cyber limbo. My preference is to put him back exactly like he was and I won’t do anything else until I see that is not possible.”
“If Nero can’t fix his old chip, is Marcus ever going to be the same person again?”
“Well, I wouldn’t discount his human brain eventually making sure all memories since his restoration are brought forward for processing. The whole point of the restoration is that Marcus’s mind is far more than any one chip, processor, or part,” Kyra explained. “I admit the degree to which this is true hasn’t been fully proven yet. A few months is hardly enough to postulate credible theories.”
“Screw theories. Look at him,” Eric declared, lifting a hand. “That’s not Marcus. That’s just a plain cyborg. He’s barely self-aware at all.”
Marcus turned to Eric. “That statement is false. I am very aware of my identity. I am Marcus 582. You are Eric 754.”
“No,” Eric said. “You’re Marcus Kells, and you’re my fucking friend. That’s who you are.”
“Eric 754, your accelerated heart rate indicates a level of stress that is dangerous for your organic parts. If it continues without cessation, it would be advisable to get your components recalibrated.”
“Really? Well recalibrate this, dumbass,” Eric declared, holding up his middle finger.
When Marcus stared at it with no sign of being offended, anger shot Eric up from his chair like a bullet. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t. It wasn’t fair that out in the world somewhere was a weapon that had left Marcus walking and talking, but semi-erased.
Now he was sorry he hadn’t been more empathetic with King’s situation. No wonder King had been so adamant about keeping track of every little freaking detail he uncovered. He had been trying to make sure no further loss occurred.
And God help Evelyn…or Lucy whoever-she-was. What was it like for her to live in mental darkness all the time? After his research, he was mostly convinced Lucy was her real name, but he was still drawing too many blanks. The military had meticulously cloaked her real identity. But why? It didn’t make any sense to him. They hadn’t bothered to cloak King’s.
Eric turned back to glare at Marcus, who just calmly looked at him. “Your current half-ass existence is not acceptable to me, Marcus 582. I want my dumbass friend back. Stick that dilemma in your new logic chip and let your higher intelligence work on it. Remembering who you used to be is the only task worth your time and effort.”
Eric watched Marcus move his gaze to the table as he ran his statements through his processor for analysis.
“Doc…I’ll be in the monitor room if you need me. I’m going to use Nero’s com station for my research.”
Kyra nodded. “I have not given up on returning him to normal, Eric.”
“Yeah…well…normal is the problem isn’t it? To most of the world, what he is now is normal for cyborgs. I want the irritating, annoying, bossy version of him back. Fuck normal.”
Eric left the room and didn’t look back. Peyton and King were tracking down Nathan 180 who conveniently hadn’t come in to work that day. He’d been lef
t behind to help Kyra with Marcus, but it was hard as hell seeing his friend acting like nothing more than a barely sentient machine.
He returned to his research with a heavy heart. He hoped Kyra and Nero had one more miracle hiding out in their brains.
Chapter 11
“They have these sex clubs all over New Orleans. Did you ever try one?”
Peyton turned from his lamp post surveillance spot to look at King. “Sex clubs? No. I lived in California and plucked bikini babes from the beaches all day long. Have you ever felt it necessary to tie a woman up to get sex?”
“No, but a few have asked,” King bragged, grinning at his friend’s shock. No one looking at Peyton would ever know how prudish he was. “I will admit the thought of having utter control over a bossy woman like my wife has a certain allure. If she ever asks to know my darkness, I’m certainly not opposed to using whatever it takes to indulge her fantasies—ropes, straps, chains—hell, I’m open-minded.”
“Okay. I’m calling bullshit right now,” Peyton declared. “You would never tie up Seetha. She managed to stay alive in a work camp for two years. She’d cut off your balls the minute you cut her loose.”
King laughed from his belly. “Wouldn’t Kyra do the same to you?”
“No,” Peyton said sadly. “She’d just move out of the bedroom and never touch me again.”
“Aw…shit. I forgot, Peyton. I watched the footage of Evil Brad confessing to her about what her ex did. You know I’d never really tie Seetha up. If I can’t talk her into doing what I want, I figure we don’t need to do it. She’s as perfect a lover as I ever dreamed of having. Better still, she’s a pleasant woman to spend time with. I feel sorry for the women in these places. I always have. What the hell could they be looking for in here?”
“I don’t know. But if we find Rachel in there with the slug, Marcus is going to flatten this place and Nathan 180. We’re going to have to put Marcus in a cage when he comes around just to keep him from lashing out or doing something to himself. He’s so damn sensitive and this timing was shitty. He had just gotten his life straightened out.”
King nodded at the truth. “You got that right. Is Kyra going to be able to fix him back like he was?”
Peyton shrugged as they walked. “She doesn’t know yet. She and Nero are working on a solution.”
“But the Edward Jensen guy is okay?”
“Mostly. He’s got full sentience, but about a thousand blips in his cybernetics. Seetha’s trying to calibrate him. Apparently, that’s going to be an all-day job for her for several days. What happened was bad even though he found a way to block the worst of it.”
King slowed and turned to his friend. “So what are we going to do about getting into the club without alarming the fucking patrons?”
“Ha. Ha. Mr. Comedian. I didn’t miss your damn innuendo. It just so happens that I do have a plan for getting inside without alarming them. We’re going to pretend you’re my boy toy,” Peyton said, grinning at King’s shock.
“How did we go from talking about tying up our wives to pretending to be a pair of male lovers? Do we look gay enough to pull that off?”
Peyton chuckled softly as they neared the front door. “Gay hasn’t had a look for a couple for over a hundred years now. Besides, I hear variety keeps things interesting, honey. We’re just trying something new.”
King hung his head and groaned. When he raised it, he was grinning. “Okay. But I get to be the guy-guy. You get to be the queen.”
“If I’m the queen, do I get to call you King?”
“Man, your jokes are pitiful. Isn’t there a humor chip Kyra can install in you? I’m getting tired of your sad jokes and lack of finesse in telling them.”
“Are you two queens going to stand on the street and argue, or are you coming in?”
They both turned to the man collecting the cover to go inside. “We’re definitely coming in,” Peyton declared with confidence.
He turned a sorrowful gaze to King. “Come on, Kingston. You promised. It’s my birthday. You said we could share a woman.”
King snorted and glared at Peyton. “Queenie, your fantasies are killing me.”
Listening to Peyton’s delighted laugh at his insult, King turned to the man and asked how much the cover was. Since Peyton had already mentioned it was his birthday, it left King no choice but to fork over the outrageous cost of gaining entrance.
He turned back to Peyton. “This better be worth spending all this money. I’m only doing this for Marcus.”
Peyton nodded and tried to look appreciative. At least his smile wasn’t fake. It was fun as hell to see King so irritated.
The door guy ushered them inside with an eye roll.
“Now what?” King asked morosely when they were standing alone in a hallway decorated with garish red fabric walls. “Do we stay together or split up to look for him?”
“No need, sweetie.” Peyton’s hand on King’s arm turned him toward a stage where Nathan had a woman bent over a table. King sighed and started forward to retrieve him, but Peyton used his hand to pull him back.
“Wait. He’ll be weaker after he gets done. You know young guys—five minutes and it’s all over for them. We won’t have to wait long.”
Just as King snorted, Nathan yelled and the crowd around him erupted into cheers. If the woman was enjoying it too, she made no comment as she righted herself. Apparently, Nathan was a crowd pleaser though. They watched him publicly put his equipment away while people shouted praise to him for his performance. Moments later the happy stud was walking toward them, obviously intending to leave since they hadn’t made it farther than three feet inside the door.
“Is picking him up really going to be this easy?” King asked.
As their target passed by, Peyton put out his hand. “Hey. This is our first time here. You seem like you know the score. What’s there to do?” He saw Nathan’s gaze widen as recognition flared.
The kid stepped away from his hand and back into a big pair of arms.
“Hey now,” King whispered in their target’s ear. “I can tell you’re one of those aggressive types, but we’ve just met, cutie.”
Nathan’s gaze swung over his shoulder and up into King’s glare. “I know who you two are. What do you want with me?”
Peyton took a device from his pocket. “We hear you’re into using toys to get off. We thought you might like to test this one.”
He touched the wireless taser to one of Nathan 180’s firm pectorals. The boy went down almost instantly. If King hadn’t been holding him up, Nathan’s body would have collapsed to the nasty floor.
“Hey, that shit tingled, Queenie. You could have warned me you were going to shock him.”
“Since you’re the tough guy-guy in our couple, I knew you could handle it. You also get to carry him,” Peyton ordered, smiling over Nathan’s sagging head.
Grunting, King swung the kid up over one shoulder. “Then you’re going to explain to the door guard why we’re leaving with one of their regulars after we just got here.”
Peyton pointed down the hall at a giant exit sign. A lone, half-dressed man snuck discreetly out while they watched. “Since our business is done, I thought we’d use the businessman’s exit.”
King laughed. “You always were damn lucky.”
“And you always were big enough to back me up when I wasn’t,” Peyton declared.
They left out the exit and circled around the back to make sure the front guard never saw them leaving.
***
Nero was still working on repairing Marcus’s logic chip. She’d had no choice but to take what help was available. Kyra raised her gaze to the man leaning over the medical table looking at her unconscious patient with her. “Any idea who he is, Brad?”
“Yes, Dr. Winters. As you well know, I am wirelessly connected to the UCN database. The subject is a modified human catalogued as Cybernetic Unit Nathan 180. He is also registered in all databases as Nathan Blanton. Avid gamer. Turbo
coder. Subject works for Norton developing AI code for their government guard units. He was recently promoted into the spot formerly held by Dan Masterson, who is now deceased.”
Kyra nodded. “Okay. Let’s do some analysis. Someone installed a cybernetic panel and a processor in this boy, which are being used to stimulate both neural implants and the pulses responsible for the muscles he’s growing. So he’s technically only a partial cyborg. Can you postulate a theory about why he might have chosen to do this to himself.”
“The obvious conclusion available is that he is a self-improvement fanatic,” Brad reported. “He wants the benefits of being a machine without the flaws of being one. He has no registered enhancements. A full body scan by the medical table confirms no prosthetics are present.”
Marcus 582: Book Three of Cyborgs: Mankind Redefined Page 12
