Adam (4 page)

Aboard a vessel just outside of Earth’s orbit…

Relying on his other senses sucked. Big time. Avion wasn’t used to inactivity. Once upon a revolution, he’d been a combat pilot, a soldier, a cyborg meant for action.

Not any more.

Now he was a cyborg dying.

No one came right out and said it, but he knew. His brethren lied as they mouthed meaningless optimistic words of encouragement. They shouldn’t have bothered. Avion knew better. His nanotechnology, what made all of his various parts run, were dead, and without them to keep things regulated, Avion was slowly fading too.

A man more prone to emotion might have despaired and taken his life.

But even though the chances of his recovery were slim—odds calculated at less than five percent—Avion hung on and hoped, probably one of the most human things he had left.

He let hope guide his steps as he embarked on what he suspected was his final mission, a mission back to Earth. Clues they’d gleaned led them to believe the source of their origin was hidden there. Einstein theorized that, while a transfusion of their blood wasn’t enough to jumpstart his nanos, perhaps if they could locate the origin of the tech, then maybe, just maybe, he could still be saved.

Avion harbored doubts about that. And even if the theory was correct, the clock was ticking down fast to the time he would suffer a complete shutdown.

One odd, yet intriguing, side effect of his loss of nanos were the dreams. Flashbacks in many cases of the life he’d once lived. As a man, not a machine.

He cherished those bright glimpses into his past.

But he obsessed over something he could have sworn happened only in his mind. Not long ago, during one of his sleep times—a real sleep, not one programmed or a shut down of his system for a reboot—he’d dreamed of someone. Actually, calling it a dream wasn’t quite accurate. An alien consciousness had touched his own.

Who are you?
he’d asked.

Her reply proved more puzzling than her mind-to-mind communication.
I am known as One.

One of what?
Where are you?

Hidden. A prisoner. One without hope.

There’s always hope.
Funny words from a man who hung on to only the thinnest tendril.

Not for me.

The sadness in her admission made his failing heart stutter and almost stop.
Don’t give up. I’ll —

The contact abruptly shattered.

Find you.
But she never heard his final words. And he didn’t know what to think of his short conversation with the woman because his impression, even if the touch seemed foreign, tasted distinctly female.

Odder, Avion could almost swear she’d left a trace of herself behind. He didn’t mention it to the others. They’d think him crazy. And perhaps he was.

The military had certainly done their best while he was in their custody to break him and had succeeded with his body.

But they’ll never get my soul.
That was if cyborgs even had a soul. Those against their existence vehemently argued they didn’t. They forgot that all cyber units had started out as human as them.

Born human and, raised with freedom, until the military got their hands on Avion and the others. Their captors subjected them to treatments and operations. The military made them better. Or, as the military initially spun it to the media, enhanced their abilities. Cyborgs were created to be smarter, stronger, and all around more interesting.

Speaking of more interesting, the commotion on board their disguised ship rose a few levels as they entered Earth’s orbit. They were about to find out if their contact from the surface rebel forces was a true ally or not.

Aramus, commander of the spaceship, had followed instructions to the tee. By masking their true ship name, the
SSBiteMe,
became something more mundane,
Star Dancer Shuttle Service
. Even though blinded, Avion could practically picture Aramus’ grimace whenever someone said the name. He even had a logo:
Your shuttle to the stars.

The grinding of Aramus’ teeth was especially amusing when Seth told him he should change it to the
Shuttle of Love
and make it into a honeymoon ship. Good thing Aramus’ human lover was on hand to stop the irritable cyborg from starting a brawl. Their fragile, on-board equipment couldn’t handle a few tons of angry male flesh rollicking around.

Making his way to the command center, slowly, the only pace he could manage nowadays, Avion eavesdropped on Seth, who had lost his habitual cool and good humor. A rarity, but then again, Seth wasn’t used to dealing with jealousy.

“I still don’t see why we need to meet up with your ex-boyfriend. We could simply land and go about our task on our own.”

Seth’s wife, Anastasia, sighed before saying, “And I’ve told you, numerous times at this point, despite your determination to wipe facts from your databanks, that Adam can get us in to classified places and give us access to information that won’t require us wasting time.”

“Because he’s the overachieving head of the Earth-side cyborg resistance movement. I know. He’s Mr. Altruistic.”

“Not really. He’s a murderous, cold, calculating cyborg.”

“Not cool. I thought I was the most awesome murderous cyborg you know?” Seth didn’t have to pretend affront at the comparison. He was genuinely insulted.

“Don’t be jealous. You didn’t let me finish. He, however, isn’t half as entertaining, and definitely not as sexy as you.”

Avion didn’t need to hear Aramus’ disgusted, “Get a fucking room, you perverted sex droids,” to know they kissed.

Easing his way along the back wall, Avion slid into an empty seat. He didn’t arrive unnoticed.

“Hey, Avion,” Seth hailed. “You’re just in time to find out if we’re going to get blown into galactic chunks.”

“Seth!”

“What, dearest wife? I’m just saying it’s possible. I mean, you did, after all, dump this guy. How do we know he doesn’t harbor a grudge? After all, you are so freaking awesome, what male could possibly handle your loss?”

Anastasia snorted. “You are such an idiot.”

“I agree, but would both of you shut up before I get a blow torch and weld your lips fucking shut?” Aramus growled. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

Avion smiled. Their BCI was more than capable of multitasking. Aramus grumbled for the sake of grumbling.

How Avion would have liked to tap into the wireless network and watch the proceedings as their ship performed the various checks and handshakes that proved they had permission to enter Earth air space and land. Not happening. Avion was unable to do even the most simple of cyborg things. He missed the constant hum of noise in his mind as his BCI absorbed information from everything around him and the mind-to-mind conversations that made him feel part of something. While many might not appreciate the hive-mind comparison, Avion missed the ability to share thoughts with his brethren.

“So far so good,” Aramus mumbled, probably for his benefit since everyone else could see and
hear
with their wireless senses. “Entering the Earth’s atmosphere in three, two, one.”

Only the slightest of tremors vibrated the ship as they broke through the almost skin-like ring of pressure around their home planet.

For a moment, none of them spoke. While Avion sucked in lungfuls of air—damned human system required oxygenated breaths—the others forgot to breathe, all their focus attuned elsewhere.

“I don’t detect any incoming missiles or threats,” Kyle announced.

“A scan of surface communication frequencies shows no unusual messaging or indication that anyone thinks we are anything other than what we appear,” Aphelion added.

“Goddamn it. Maybe Seth’s partially right. Maybe this Adam fellow still has a thing for you, Anastasia. He’s certainly paved the way for our arrival.”

“I’m really tempted to ram your head through a screen,” Seth groused.

Aramus chuckled. “I am so glad I volunteered for this mission. I’ve been waiting a long time to find something to rattle your cage.”

“If we had time, I’d rattle you,” Seth promised.

“Promises, promises. Guess you’ll have to make it back alive if you want to wipe the gym floor with me.”

“You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, best friend.”

A grumble of discontent rumbled from Aramus. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Sorry. I forgot we’re secret BFFs.”

Someone snickered.

“I’d gladly give that role to someone else. Say like your wife’s ex, whom you’re about to meet within the hour.”

“I can’t wait,” Seth growled, the smack of a fist hitting his palm.

Neither could Avion, not because he would enjoy the fireworks between the males but more because something told Avion that the mystery voice in his head was somewhere on Earth—an illogical assumption, given a lack of evidence. Nevertheless, Avion couldn’t deny he suffered from some sort of gut instinct syndrome. Or indigestion.

Damned humanity. How he longed to be a true cyborg again.

Going straight from work to the spaceport, Adam spared only a few minutes to change out his uniform—just as any normal human would do—before speeding to his destination.

Some folk were under the mistaken impression that abiding by the posted legal limits and performing proper stops and lane changes ensured a person flew under the radar. Untrue.

Those who adhered most stringently to the laws brought the most attention of all. Normal folk always skirted the edges of the rules. It was human nature.

Parking crookedly, his rear tire over the marked line, and shoving his card in to the short-term parking meter to buy himself an hour of overpriced space, Adam arrived—late.

Or, as he liked to call it, perfectly in keeping with his public identity.

As it turned out, his timing was impeccable. He spotted his trio of arriving friends and the space customs duty guard—one of his human recruits—giving them a cursory check over, the machine to detect for cyborg components temporarily bypassed to give them a green light of approval.

Adam leaned against a pillar by the luggage carousel and waited for them, a nonchalant pose that belied his true actions. He scanned everything around him, from the couple toting the crying baby to the elderly couple who walked so slowly he almost offered to grab them and jog them to their departure gate.

As his guests approached, he straightened and offered a smile to his ex-girlfriend, Anastasia, who looked as yummy as ever even with her hair dyed blonde and cut short. She returned a smile of equal brilliance, which had the man by her side frowning. Hello, the husband.

Then, because he must suffer from a terminal self-destruct wish, Adam drew her into a hug.

“Adam,” she laughed as he squeezed her, tight enough to crack human ribs.

Releasing her, with perhaps a hint of a smug smirk, Adam didn’t even have time to blink before he hit the ground. For a moment, he saw gears whirring before he blinked and his eyesight returned to normal.
Nice shot, if a cheap one.

“Seth!” Anastasia chastised with just one word.

The word did nothing for his jaw, which Adam had to unobtrusively pop back into place before anyone noticed its lopsided nature.

“Sorry. My arm just suddenly shot out. Some kind of glitch it seems. I’ll have to run a diagnostic later.”

“Glitch, my ass,” she mumbled, but Adam couldn’t help but note, as he sprang to his feet, that she didn’t seem perturbed at all that her spouse might harbor a few loose screws. As a matter of face, her lips curved in clear, smug pleasure.
The brat is enjoying her husband’s jealousy.

And Adam couldn’t help but enjoy antagonizing it. “Not his fault, Ana darling. He is, after all, one of the early models. He can’t help but show his age.”

To his surprise, because by his quickly run calculations his barb should have netted a violent result, Seth laughed.

“I wouldn’t underestimate my skills. Those who do, die, whippersnapper.” With a smile that promised a violent battle—something fun to look forward to—Seth turned his back on Adam and called forth another man who walked slowly, cane tapping, eyes hidden by wide, wrap-around dark glasses.

This shambling ruin didn’t require an introduction. It could only be Avion, but not the man Adam recalled seeing in some of the media vids where he was caught on camera, causing destruction—in other words, freeing cyborgs and confiscating goods. Adam couldn’t help his uttered, “What the fuck happened to you?”

A rueful smile curling his lips, Avion didn’t take offense. “I was a military guest for a while. The food was atrocious.”

No joking. Signs of starvation marked the damaged cyborg. Never had Adam seen one of his kind so gaunt. Fragile.

It proved disturbing. One of the things their nanos did was absorb nutrients from their environment. It allowed them to survive substandard conditions with little need for resupply. A modern version of live off the land, an attribute Adam took for granted judging by Avion’s appearance.

“Looks like more than a shitty diet to me. What really happened to you?” he asked. He didn’t fear spies in this public place, not with all the noise and the fact he emitted a static hum that masked their words.

“This is what happens when you shut the nanos off.”

“Off? What do you mean off? I’ve never heard of that happening.”

“No one has. And yet here I am, living proof.”

“I don’t know about the living part. I’m thinking Avion might be the first cyborg zombie. Except instead of brains, he’s going to start craving batteries,” Seth teased, but Adam could see the worry in the man’s eyes.

“If I need batteries, I’ll go for your wife’s night stand first.”

“Hey.” Despite the implication Anastasia kept power tools in her nightstand for satisfaction, Seth only pretended offence.

Anastasia shook her head at them. “This isn’t funny, you two. Especially since what happened to Avion wasn’t an accident.”

“Someone has found a way to disable our nanos?” Adam asked. Until now, it was believed the only way to kill the bots in their bodies was to withdraw them from their body. For some reason, as soon as the nanos exited their host, they died. But in Avion’s case, the bots within his body were dead. Talk about disturbing.

Seth snagged some luggage on the carousel, tossing the bulkiest bag at Adam—who, of course, caught it two-handed to keep up his human façade.

“They’ve managed to turn them off and we’ve not been able to do anything to reverse it,” she replied as she looped her arm in Avion’s. “We’ll tell you all about it, but not here. Where’s your car?”

“Right outside. It’s the boring blue one.”

Only once they were all stowed in the car and safely on their way—in other words, with no one seeming to follow them—did they resume their conversation.

“So spill it. What happened to you, Avion?”

“I told you they turned my nanos off, among other things.”

“Who did?”

Anastasia snorted. “Oh please. Has humanity rubbed off on you? Use your head for more than a rack for a hat. Who else but some military-owned scientists.”

“Humanity is not a disease.”

“Not according to Aramus,” Seth snickered. “Although he’s not as hardcore about eradicating them from the universe since he met his lady friend.”

“He fell for a human?” Adam asked in surprise. While not completely unheard of, those most abused and least in touch with their past tended to harbor an intense hatred for the race they blamed for creating them.

“Fell and fell hard. For a while, he thought there was something wrong with his programming. He even had some of his friends knock him around a few times in the hopes of dislodging the problem. Alas, his affection for the human doctor was incurable.”

“But less deadly than Avion’s problem,” Anastasia added, steering the conversation back on track.

“I still can’t believe they turned his nanos off. Is it reversible?” Because of all the threats Adam faced, the slow, wasting death consuming Avion horrified him most.

“That’s what we’re hoping to find out. According to sources, there’s a factory here on Earth, one dealing in special technology. Technology that might be based on the same platform as our nanos and cybernetic enhancements.”

“You mean like that strange radar-cloaking device I’ve heard their warships are using?”

“Yes. But the invisible shielding from sensors isn’t the only thing you’ve got to watch for. Someone has also designed tracking bugs that are virtually undetectable.”

Given Adam’s constant need for secrecy and evasion, any technology that could out him was of interest to him. “What kind of tests has it evaded?” More and more, Adam drew lines between the clues, a picture emerging that gave even more credence to the theory that the cloaking technology and the nanotech the cyborgs bore were linked.

“The new bugs don’t show up on ultra sounds, MRIs, metal detectors, or even x-ray. Heck, cyborgs can’t even feel them.”

“What do you mean?” Part of their internal diagnostics program included an ability to detect foreign objects in their bodies.

Seth replied. “As in I’ve held one in the palm of my hand and not known it sat there, even as I stared at it.”

The conversation proved interesting, but not so much that Adam forgot to keep an eye out for someone following them. As he drove, he kept a constant watch on all his mirrors and kept a scan running on the police scanner and other frequencies used by the military and other agencies. So far they seemed in the clear. He did all this while, at the same time, asking pertinent questions of his guests. “If these bugs are so undetectable, then how are you finding them?”

“By accident initially. Once we knew about them, we began searching, but it hasn’t been easy. Our saving grace is they emit the faintest of energy signals. While we can’t actually feel their physical presence when coming into contact with the bug with our skin, the object can’t hide the space it consumes. Physical exams where we manually palpate the flesh will reveal them.”

“Is this your way of telling me you want to touch me all over?” Adam shot Anastasia a suggestive leer. Yeah, he baited a certain passenger, but this time he was ready for the fist aimed at the back of his head.

“Oops. Muscle spasm,” said Seth, a tad too jovially from the back seat.

“You really should look at getting some of your parts replaced, old man.” Despite the fact only the barest handful of years separated them, the barb made the spy cyborg stiffen.

Seth narrowed his eyes. “Anytime you want to test my joints…”

Anastasia verbally stepped between them. “I’ll be testing them later, but in the meantime, can we get back to our mission? That is why we’re here, is it not?”

Adam, seated in front of her, met Seth’s gaze in his rearview mirror. He rolled his eyes as he mouthed to Seth, “Later. I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

A snort was the acceptance to the challenge.

“I know you’re planning to get in a pissing contest,” Anastasia growled. “I can see your reflection, Adam. Now is not the time.”

“Spoilsport,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry. Let’s just put Avion’s dire needs aside so you and my husband can indulge in a pissing contest.”

“I daresay Avion wouldn’t mind if we took a few minutes to display our urinary prowess. I do have to go,” Seth replied.

“Hamster bladder.” The comment from Avion had them all laughing.

Adam caught Seth’s grin and couldn’t help one of his own.

“Fine. I’ll hold it. For now. But only until the mission is done, my dear wife,” Seth added, dropping a light kiss on her lips. “Because you are right.”

“He finally admits it,” was her dry retort.

Seth continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “Avion needs help, and fast. Our best lead at this point seems to involve going after the cloaking tech, which analysis says has a strong probability of having originated from the same technology that created our own nanos. In-depth research has led us to the one place on Earth that makes the cloaking devices. A factory outside the city owned by the military. It’s said that while the highly guarded upper floors of the company are aboveboard, producing and assembling electronic devices for use by the troops, there is a secret lab below the factory, which is where the more out-there testing is happening.”

Adam, who knew very well the factory he spoke of, dug for more information before revealing his close association to their target. “Out-there testing as in?” Adam prompted, preferring to get fact-based answers instead of relying on inaccurate supposition.

As he’d learned over the years, first from cataloguing human interaction and even with some of his more personal experiences, not all organisms, or even BCIs, came to the same conclusion given the same facts. It seemed personality and other outside factors could come into play.

“We believe they are creating a new weapon to use against cyborgs. Case in point, friend Avion. We also believe they haven’t given up on their quest to enhance humans. Some of the things we saw in a secret laboratory hidden on an asteroid leads us to believe they’re not just testing on cyborgs but humans as well.”

“Tell them about the aliens,” Anastasia murmured.

“Aliens?” Adam couldn’t help the query. He’d only recently come to the conclusion that the military might be dabbling in science that wasn’t earth-based in origin. What had his brethren discovered that made them sound so certain?

Seth shot his wife a look, to which she didn’t reply but arched a brow. Seth sighed. “Testing has not been conclusive as of yet. However, things we discovered have led us to believe that our origin might not be Earth based.”

“You mean we’ve got green Martian genes spliced into us?” Adam teased, treating the revelation lightly, lest he reveal too much. It was one thing to believe in an alien intervention, another to admit it aloud.

“Possibly Martian. Or Venusian or Plutonian.”

“You forgot Uranus.” Seth snickered.

She ignored her husband’s juvenile rejoinder. “The point is, we’re dealing with something completely unknown.”

“Which is so reassuring,” Avion interjected, finally joining the conversation.