by Lisa Lace
As the shaft of light illuminated his way down the stairs, his stomach rose up inside him as though it were unwilling to make the descent. Neil took deep breaths, making sure to consciously breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth. This was no time to have a panic attack. He needed to get in, take what he came for, and get out. Sitting down and putting his head between his knees until the dizziness passed would slow him down, and he’d risk getting caught. He pressed on, wondering what would happen if a custodian found his broken body at the bottom of the stairs.
At one time, Neil had found it fun and exciting to work in an underground lab marked by a nearly invisible door. It was the sort of thing he only saw in movies about superheroes. Either a crazy lab accident gave scientists superpowers, or they spent their time making new weapons and gadgets for other heroes. Working with the cyborgs had turned his dream into reality. Some men donated their bodies to science so Cyborg Sector could turn their near-dead carcasses into super soldiers. Neil hadn’t merely watched news anchors talk about cyborgs on television or read about them in scientific journals - he had been a part of the action.
Of course, all of the achievements that he and his fellow scientists had made were now being ridiculed all over the media. The cyborg rights movement had taken everything he had done and flushed it down the toilet. Through an errant software update, a cyborg named AD-214 had suddenly remembered who he had been before a chip was implanted into his brain and his hand turned into a plasma gun. He and his cohorts escaped with the assistance of a Canadian group of sympathizers. They spent their time explaining to the public that cyborgs were not monsters, but people who wanted to live out their lives like everyone else. The public was convinced. Two years later, the destruction of Cyborg Sector began.
At the bottom of the stairs, another sturdy door stood in his path. When Cyborg Sector was active, there was always a guard stationed by the entrance. Now the small desk to the right of the door was empty. It only took another flash of his card, and he was inside.
The Skunkworks experimental lab had no signs labeling it as a special projects division, but it was distinctly different from the barracks upstairs that had once held numerous squads of cyborg soldiers. Cyborg Sector stored their cyborgs here in transparent, upright boxes made of bulletproof glass. These cells contained life support systems as well as a port that hooked directly into their skulls. The soldiers were kept inactive until they were needed for duty or scientists pulled them out to work on them.
Neil flicked on the lights. The cells had once stood in a grid filling a vast room in the barracks, but down here they lined two of the walls like lockers. The center of the room was set up as a laboratory, with large surfaces for surgical work, mobile monitoring carts for taking vital signs, and other pieces of equipment and machinery.
There were two doors on the far right side of the room. One of them was labeled Offices and the other had a handwritten sign that read Destruction. His desk, computer, and files had once been behind the first door. It was a place of refuge from the terrible realities of the world, where he was free to focus on his passion.
He had stayed away from the other door as much as possible. Cyborgs designated as unfit were destroyed on a periodic basis. Any scientist could nominate a cyborg for destruction if they were considered too dangerous or never accepted their programming.
Neil made his way across the room to one of the holding cells. He could have found that particular cell without using the lights. Neil had gone to it so many times before that he had memorized the path. The cyborg in that cell had been slated for destruction long ago. It was unstable and had a propensity for violence in the field. Internally, they had stopped using its identifier and started calling it Fury. Other scientists had told him to stop trying to reform it and have it destroyed. Neil should have moved on to a new donor body with better prospects, but he couldn’t let Fury go. He refused to give up on a cyborg that he knew he could save.
Fury was in sleep mode, just like the others. He stood tall and erect, looking like he would be ready for battle as soon as he opened his eyes. The cyborg’s black hair was clipped short against his skull, and muscles bulged underneath a khaki uniform.
Without any further hesitation, Neil keyed in a unique code that unlocked the holding cell. He worked quickly to disconnect the life support system and the wire that connected to a chip on the side of the cyborg’s head. The soldier’s bright blue eyes opened, and Neil knew that his interface had activated.
“FY-485, this is Dr. Daniels,” the scientist whispered. “Do you understand me?”
The cyborg replied without looking directly at him. “Yes, sir.”
“Your orders will be given verbally today, instead of through the computer system. Do you understand?” Neil could hear the desperation in his voice. He was not merely breaking the law. He could be putting lives in danger. The cyborg wasn’t ready to leave the lab, much less the building. But he couldn’t exactly stuff the cyborg into a backpack.
“Yes, sir.”
Did he detect hesitation in the cyborg’s reply? No, surely not. He had to stop worrying so much. He had a plan, and this was the only way he could accomplish his goals. “Follow me. Do not interact with anyone else. Are your orders clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Carry this.” Neil shoved a heavy bag full of equipment at the soldier, who quickly wrapped his massive arms around the package. The soldier took it easily, like it held nothing more than Styrofoam. Technically, it was stealing, but Neil was already walking out of the facility with a cyborg. Were a few extra pieces of lab gear going to matter? The encumbrance would also give him extra time to shut down the cyborg if he became noncompliant. “Let’s go.”
Neil walked briskly back to the entrance of the lab, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind him. He was breathing heavily by the time they reached the top of the stairs, but the soldier hadn’t even broken a sweat. It felt like an eternity as they walked through the cubicles, out of the building, and to the van parked in an alley half a block away.
CHAPTER 2
“You seem to be doing well enough, physically speaking.” Natasha Daniels marked her findings on her tablet. The cyborg known as MD-268 was adjusting well to civilian life. He was one of several cyborgs who had received a particular software upgrade allowing him to become self-aware and conscious of his prior life, remembering what things were like before he became a part of Cyborg Sector. Integration into society wasn’t an easy thing for someone who was programmed to be a super soldier and serve the army. The Cyborg Rehabilitation Center was established to debrief the cyborgs and help them with the transition.
“Don’t forget that I broke the front window last week,” MD-268 said uncertainly. “I thought I should have been able to control myself better when I was moving the couch, but all of a sudden it smashed through the glass.”
MD-268 was strangely insecure for a cyborg, but she thought she could fix him. Natasha had jumped at the chance to work for the CRC. Before that, she was a nurse. The medical profession was fulfilling, but now Natasha felt she was doing work as important as her father’s. Even though Cyborg Sector no longer existed, she still felt like she was contributing to the project. It was unfortunate that her dad had lost his job, but maybe it was an indication that it was time for him to retire. It wouldn’t hurt him to relax once in a while.
“That’s okay,” Natasha reassured him. “Accidents happen to everyone, even you. Make sure to keep doing your exercises and take your time when you start any big projects.”
“Okay.” MD-268 nodded, a wrinkle in his brow. “I’ll try.”
Natasha consulted her tablet again. “We’re finished for today, but it looks like you have an appointment downstairs with the Employment Department. Have you already filled out the paperwork?”
“I think so.” MD-268 fished around in the pocket of his pants and pulled out a folded wad of papers. “I don’t know if these are the right forms.”
&nb
sp; “Someone will look them over downstairs, and they’ll help you fill them out correctly.” All of the employees at the Cyborg Rehabilitation Center were chosen for their patience and understanding. The cyborg soldiers came in a variety of personalities. Some were angry and confused, others were worried and scared, and some acted as though nothing had ever happened and they had never had chips installed in their brains. The last ones were some of the most difficult. No one ever knew what they were thinking.
MD-268 had not moved. “Can you tell me how to get to that department?” he asked uncertainly.
It was not unusual to find cyborgs who didn’t know how to go anywhere without specific directions. They were used to having all decisions made by someone else and having their computer systems automatically route them places, but they no longer had those luxuries. Their interfaces, which they counted on to help them navigate through a building, were degrading over time. Many were left feeling lost.
“Of course I can. I’ll walk you to the elevator.” It was easier to take them out of the similar-looking exam rooms of the Physical Rehab Department, then give them directions from outside the department. “Take the elevator to level two. When you get off, go to the right, and you’ll see a sign for the Employment Department. If you get lost, ask anyone you see for help.”
“Thank you,” MD-268 muttered as the elevator arrived. Natasha could see a few beads of nervous sweat on his upper lip before the elevator doors closed and hopefully sent him down to level two.
“Hey, Tash. I haven’t seen you much lately. I know you’ve been here, but what have you been doing?”
Natasha turned to look at Brittney, who ran the front desk at the Physical Rehab Department. She was blonde and cute. The cyborgs always seemed to like her. Natasha, with dark red hair and bright blue eyes, seemed to be more of a particular taste for males. That was all right with her considering that she was still married.
“I know,” she replied. “I overbooked my appointments. At first I tried to tell myself that I just needed the extra money, but I really just wanted to keep myself busy. I don’t want to think about life right now.” She leaned her elbows on the counter and sighed. “I think my marriage is falling apart.”
“Are you sure?” Brittney stood up from her chair and laid a hand on Natasha’s shoulder. “I thought you two were great together.”
Natasha shrugged and rubbed her eyes. It didn’t seem to matter how long she slept or how much coffee she drank in the morning, she always felt exhausted and wanted to close her eyes. “I thought so, too, but he’s just getting more and more distant. I don’t know what happened between us. People change over time, but I don’t think I’ve changed that much.”
“Sometimes two people can just grow apart, I guess,” Brittney offered. Natasha knew she had to take the desk girl’s advice with a grain of salt. Brittney had never been in a relationship that lasted longer than six months. “Have you tried therapy or couple’s counseling?”
“No.” Natasha thought about her relationship with Nick. When they had met back in college, she was sure that there couldn’t be anyone better for her. He was proud that she was going to nursing school, and thought she would look sexy in a little white uniform. They knew they weren’t going to be one of those couples that ended up going two weeks without having sex. They were fucking every night.
Lately, however, Nick was working late at his bar. His excuse was that the head bartender had quit. He came home tired and crabby, and he didn’t want to do anything but watch television before he fell into bed smelling like beer and cigarettes. He never wanted to hear about her day, and his behavior made it impossible to make plans for the weekend or go over household expenses.
Natasha had managed to convince herself that Nick was merely overworked and exhausted. She tried not to think about the fact that he had come home the night before not wearing his wedding ring. He had a convenient excuse, of course. He took it off to wash his hands and forgot to put it back on. But why was it so hard for her to believe him?
“I guess I should try everything. It can’t hurt, right?”
Brittney nodded her head hopefully. “My sister and her husband went through couple’s counseling, and it made a huge difference for them. They were on the verge of divorce, and now they’re happier than ever.”
“Can you get me the number of their therapist?” Natasha asked. “I wouldn’t even know where to start, otherwise.” She wasn’t sure how well Nick would react to the idea of sharing their problems with a stranger, but their best chance was to start with someone reputable.
“Sure!” The blonde immediately grabbed her phone and began texting her sister.
“I’m heading down to the break room to grab a sandwich from the machine. If my next appointment gets here before I’m back, just tell him to have a seat.”
Instead of taking the same elevator as MD-268, Natasha used the stairs. She made it a habit to get in some exercise whenever possible. Now that Nick might be dissatisfied with their relationship, Natasha burned calories even more than usual. She wasn’t going to give him an excuse to leave her.
Pushing through the door to the break room, Natasha made her way to the vending machines lining the far wall. She had to remember to bring her lunch one of these days instead of eating packaged food. It would be healthier and help her keep her figure just as much as the stairs.
A voice called from across the room as she bent down to retrieve a tuna salad sandwich. “Hey, Natasha!” She looked over her shoulder and saw John Spire from the Tech Department. He was sitting at a table by himself with his lunch and a stack of paperwork spread out in front of him.
“Hi, John. How’s it going?” Natasha didn’t have time to talk, but she didn’t want to be rude, either. John had always been friendly to her.
“Pretty good. I’ve been working on my novel.” He gestured to the papers on the desk. “I printed it all out to proofread it. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but it’s easier to catch the typos on paper than on a computer screen.”
Ignoring her tight schedule for a moment, Natasha wandered over to his table. She loved to read in her spare time, but she didn’t have the patience to write more than a page at a time before she became distracted. “That’s fantastic. What’s it about?”
“It’s loosely based on some of my experiences here. Cyborgs are huge in the news right now, so I hope that will make my story pretty relevant. Of course, I’m writing everything like it’s entirely fictional. I might even use a pen name.” He looked proud of himself as he spoke, light dancing in his gray eyes.
“That’s great! Can I read it when it’s finished?” Natasha found herself sitting down at his table already, eagerly glancing at his sheaf of papers. The telltale signs of editing, red pen marks, covered the writing.
John’s attitude changed immediately, and he shrank back. He wasn’t the typically shy nerd, but he wasn’t as confident as some of the cyborgs she dealt with on a daily basis, either. “I have to think about it. I guess that would be all right. Good thing I think quickly.”
“I don’t have to look at it if it will make you uncomfortable.” Natasha did want to read it, but John’s reaction was making her second-guess herself.
“It might be a little weird. You’re in it.” John looked down at his manuscript and licked his lips. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. I mean, I didn’t use your real name or anything.”
“I’m in the book?” Natasha squeaked. “That’s exciting! Am I beautiful?”
Marking his spot, John flipped back to the front of the stack of papers. The top page was entitled Cast of Characters. He pointed to one named Natalie. The character description was of a person with long, lusciously red locks of hair and a body to die for. “You’re the love interest of the main character,” he admitted.
Without asking for his permission, Natasha scooped the top sheet off the stack and began to read. The protagonist of the story, Jake, had short brown hair, gray eyes, and glasses. He worked on computers
for a living at a company that dealt with cyborgs. It was supposed to be John himself. And Natasha was his love interest.
“If you’d like to have dinner with me tonight, we could discuss it some more,” John offered, his confidence growing again.
Natasha looked across the table at the eager expression on her coworker’s face. She had known John for over two years, and they had always gotten along well. He was attractive and safe. The two of them had spent plenty of time chatting in the break room or by their cars after work. Natasha had never thought of him as anything more than a friend, but an electric sensation in her core told her that it might be possible to think of him as something more.
No. Natasha was still married to Nick, no matter how badly things were falling apart. Even if she were to find out that Nick was cheating on her, it didn’t give her the right to do the same thing to him.
Still, there was no harm in envisioning herself on a date with John, just for a moment. He was probably the kind of guy who would open doors for her, ask her questions over dinner, and split an expensive dessert. He would want to know about her day and how she felt instead of snoring loudly on the pillow next to her. And he was sexy, now that she was looking at him again. Natasha could see herself wrapped in his arms, pressing their lips together.
She shook her head to bring herself back to reality. “That’s a sweet offer, but I’m married. I don’t think my husband would appreciate it.” Even she could hear that the excuse sounded feeble. She should have said that she didn’t want to cheat on her husband, but she was putting all the blame on Nick.
John nodded in understanding. “No problem. You can still read the book when it’s complete.” He gave her a dazzling smile that made her fingertips tingle.
