Adam (6 page)

While Adam trusted Anastasia enough to bring her to his secret cy-cave, he wouldn’t blow his cover until he could be one hundred percent assured it would serve the cyborg cause—and could actually cure Avion.

The demise of one did not outweigh the greater needs of the many.

Adam knew once they acted and went after the secrets in the lab and factory level, they had to succeed the first time. There would be no second chances. Past experience had shown the military would close shop, wipe the place clean, and disappear, taking their knowledge with them.

Adam said none of this aloud, and he kept his mental receptors shut tight. While some cyber units enjoyed the wireless ability to speak mind to mind, Adam preferred to keep a cerebral silence. A strong sense of personal identity, as well as a fear of becoming a drone in a hive mind, made him someone who preferred to communicate orally.

“Seth and I will want to go over all the information you’ve gathered on CyberGlys. Maybe we’ll spot something we can use.”

“I’m sure we can find a workaround to this detection system they’ve got,” Seth added.

Implication,
I’m smarter than you, and I will prove it by getting in.

Challenged again. Damn, but if he’d known how much fun butting heads with an ex-girlfriend’s husband could be, Adam would have done it sooner.

After months of tedious groundwork and patience, things were livening up. About time.

This revolution needed to get busy.

Are you there?

The mental query woke Avion from his slumber. For a moment, disorientation gripped him. Blinded, he couldn’t immediately tell where he was. His fingers groped and felt the cotton of sheets.

He didn’t have to stretch far to locate the mattress edges. A narrow bed. He sniffed. The faint aroma of dust. No noise or hum of machinery. Recollection returned as his sluggish mind put the pieces together.

I am in Adam’s house.
The spare room to be exact. The spot he’d returned to after their meeting. He was abed, where he caught some real sleep, something his broken body needed too much of these days.

But forget his location. The whispery touch against his thoughts came again.

Did I imagine you? Have I finally lost my mind?

He sent back a message, thinking it, not saying it, and really hoping it wasn’t he losing his own marbles.
I’m here. Is this…One?

You’re there!
He couldn’t mistake the happiness in her exclamation.
I wondered if you truly existed.

I’m real—
if doubting his sanity.
Where are you? Can I see you?
Okay, maybe not see given his blindness, but at least meet in person.

I am a prisoner. There are no visitation rights for me. Unless we count those in the suits with their needles. That is the only reason why I can contact you. The shielding has been temporarily lifted as they’ve returned to collect more samples.

Samples of what?

Me. My blood. My essence.

Why?

Because I am One.

An enigmatic answer if Avion had ever heard one. But he wasted time. Who knew how long this contact would last? He needed to ask the more pertinent questions.
How is it that you can talk to me?

Your mind isn’t as noisy as the others’. They cannot hear my voice over the cacophony of their tasks. But you, your mind does not have the same taint. You shine like a beacon in the darkness when they open the door.

Door? What door? Are you locked somewhere?

Locked. Buried. Forgotten. I am the One, and they keep me hidden.

Who? Who keeps you hidden?

They leave now, and the doorway will be shut.

When will it open again?

An hour, tomorrow, perhaps never. Find me—

The communication abruptly ended, the lingering plea unfinished yet all the more poignant because of it.

More than ever, Avion was determined to do something to save the woman. The woman who called herself One. A woman he suspected was within reach.

This time their communication had been much stronger. Closer.

Even if it weren’t, it wouldn’t change his determination. She needed him.

And while he didn’t like to rely on something so imprecise as gut instinct, he couldn’t deny the almost omen-like certainty that he needed her even more.

Arriving at her lab, Laura was surprised to see her supervisor, hazmat garbed and leaning against her research table, waiting for her, a small, unmarked cooler by his side.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize we had a meeting,” she said once she entered, which took a few minutes as she gloved, robed, and masked herself in her protective gear.

“We weren’t scheduled to meet. However, I have a surprise for you. I took your request to a higher-up last night.”

Which request was he talking about? She’d made a few as she recalled. She couldn’t help glancing at the cooler. Had at least one of them come true? She let nothing of her optimism show in her face.

“And?” she prodded.

“And I’ve brought you a new sample. A live one.”

Her heart just about stopped. “You mean, the nanos work in it?”

He nodded. “For now, but they won’t remain alert without a host for more than a few hours. So test the hell out of them while you can. I can’t guarantee when or if I can get you another batch.”

“Then why are we wasting time talking? I need to get to work.”

She didn’t spare her boss a glance as he exited into the decontamination chamber.

A live sample. What she’d hoped for ever since she got her first glimpse of the nanos.

Rushing to and fro, she launched a series of tests. The vial of blood, a bright red, a vibrant splash of color on her slides. The droplets she dropped into various tubes turned a variety of colors as she added elements to them, playing with the samples, in a rush to record as much data as possible.

She cursed when a drop escaped a pipette and hit the metal countertop. What a waste, but useless for testing now, given she couldn’t know if it was contaminated. Ignoring the miniscule spill, she got another drop and plopped it onto a glass slide. Viewing it under the microscope, she orated aloud her findings, knowing the audio system in the room recorded everything she said.

The tiny bots didn’t emit any kind of energy signature that her devices could read. If it weren’t for the fact she could see them moving and multiplying in the sample she viewed, she’d have never known they were there, or active.

But more important, what could they do? Since she wasn’t given live subjects to work with, not even a beady-eyed rat, she had to test using other substances.

Ebola virus introduced? It never even got a chance to start its destruction before the bots swarmed and destroyed it.

Cancer cells? Gone in seconds.

Every vile thing she introduced was wiped in but a moment. A blink of an eye in some cases.

Amazing.
What this could mean for society…

She truly wished she had something more interesting to test on or to compare to. Gut instinct told her she dealt with the same nanos that powered the cyborgs and their enhancements. Was the reason the bots died because the samples lacked a BCI to keep them active? Or was it the organism itself that kept them powered?

So many questions, and time ran low. Already the bots showed signs of slowing down, some of them sluggish on the last injected sample.

The drop on the table mocked her. Stared at her. Dared her.

But cameras watched.

As she swapped slides, she nicked her glove, out of sight, the tiny tear small enough to escape scrutiny. She could barely breathe and expected to hear sirens blazing at any moment as she pretended to swipe a rag across the single spot. In truth, she passed her finger over it, the slight rip smearing the sample on her skin, not much and probably for naught.

The chances of the minute particles surviving the decontamination chamber after she peeled off her protective gloves were miniscule, and yet she did it anyway.

Thumbed her nose at the rules. Defied the military.

Some things shouldn’t be kept a secret.

Some things deserved to be exposed.

Sometimes chances needed to be taken.

During her frazzled back and forth testing, the guards had changed. Blue Eyes was back on duty, and she tried to focus on him and their encounter the day before instead of the criminal act she’d just performed.

I wonder what his name is. Hopefully something manly like Chase or Travis.

He would certainly manhandle her if he suspected what she’d done. The soldiers had their orders, and they followed them. Yet, hadn’t this one given her leeway yesterday?

But one minor incident didn’t mean she could trust.

Frustrated when her fresh sample became just as inert as all the others, she decided to call it a day.

Entering the decontamination chamber, she did her best to shield the tiny section of finger with which she dabbed the blood. It didn’t work. Once she’d stripped her gloves and lab coat and disposed of them, she could see no trace of red on her digit.

Great. She’d taken a chance and failed.

Still, was it any wonder when the intercom blared to life she jumped, certain she was about to get called out?

“Dr. Cowen, please report to the director’s office, and would the corporal on duty please accompany her?”

Caught?

Maybe she worried about nothing. Maybe it was just the director wanting an immediate report on her findings with the live sample.

Exiting the decontamination chamber, wearing clothes this time, she met the gaze of her guard and offered a shy, “Hello.”

“Hi. Done early today?”

Apparently he’d noticed her workaholic tendencies. Then again, her ridiculous hours were hard to ignore. “I wasn’t getting anywhere, so I thought perhaps I’d indulge in a good night’s sleep.”

“Sleep is overrated,” was his murmured reply.

It took her aback.
Did he just flirt with me?
Unsure, she didn’t reply.

He strode alongside her toward the main offices. “What’s the director want?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Who knows? Probably a status report.”
Or to call me out and have me arrested.

But as it turned out, she was wrong on all accounts.

Master Sergeant Philips met them in the outer office. “Doctor, thank you for coming and sorry for calling you in here. However, due to certain security threats, which we’ve had to upgrade from mild to serious, it’s been ordered that none of our researchers be allowed to exit the premises or travel unescorted.”

“Why?”

“A fringe group has threatened to bomb the installation. Probably a hoax that won’t amount to anything. However, we don’t wish to take any chances. Corporal, your orders are to escort the doctor to her home. Inspect the premises for anything suspicious and remain on duty, out of sight, until you are relieved at twenty-two hundred hours.”

“You can’t be serious,” she exclaimed. “Surely this group you speak of won’t be waiting for me at my condo.”

“We can’t be sure of anything at this point.”

“That’s just crazy. I don’t want a soldier on guard outside my door. I have neighbors. What will they think?”

“Then keep him inside. The fact remains that we are taking every precaution to protect key team members. Refusal to comply means we will be forced to find you accommodations here in the facility.”

Given the regular quarters were still under construction, that didn’t leave any pleasant options. “So either locked up here or under watch at home? Nice choices.” She couldn’t resist the sarcasm.

“Which will it be, Doctor?”

As if there was a choice. “Home.”

A lower lip sulk proved impossible to fight as she left the office and grabbed her things at the security checkpoint before exiting the facility. Despite the assurance that her escort was for protection, she couldn’t help feeling as if her rights were being ignored.

Heightened security at the installation she could understand, but to have someone shadowing her? Expecting her to have the military invade the privacy of her home? She didn’t like it one bit.

Invite him inside indeed.
Although, the thought of having her handsome guard in her home did rouse more than just anger. Home meant no prying cameras. A bed. Privacy.

Apparently her body viewed events differently.
But there will be no hanky-panky.
At least none initiated by her.

If he were to make a move though…

She veered her mind away from that naughty direction.

It was obviously fanciful thinking. Blue Eyes hadn’t said a word during the entire exchange with his superior other than to say, “Yes, Master Sergeant,” when asked if his orders were clear.

A good-looking guy like him wouldn’t jeopardize his career for sex with an overworked, under-exercised science geek.

Before she could mentally list all her faults, she employed her self-empowering speech.
I am a beautiful, strong woman. I don’t need a man’s attention to know I’m special.

But she sure could use a man to remind her what it felt like to be a desirable woman.

Sigh. She hated it when she argued with herself.

Leaving the building, the evening air bit her cheeks with its chill. She shivered as she tucked her chin down into the collar of her coat.

“Cold?”

“A little. Aren’t you?”

Dressed in only his uniform with no jacket, Blue Eyes didn’t seem affected by the lower temperature at all.

“I’m tough. I’ll survive,” he replied with a grin. “Which way to your car?”

She pointed as she strode in the direction. He remained close to her side, hand on his holster—his rifle having been handed in before they left the building—ready to shoot. Despite her disbelief that anyone would want to harm her, apparently her guard took the threat seriously if the way his eyes scanned the lit parking lot was any indication.

It gave her an urge to shout “Boo!” just to see how he’d react. Petty, but then again, she wasn’t feeling too generous. After her failure to smuggle a sample, and then paired with a babysitter, not to mention her struggle to resist her guard’s allure, she was in no mood to be charitable. Especially once he snagged her car keys from her hand just as she aimed them to unlock her Mazda3.

“What are you doing? Give those back.”

“I’ll be driving.” Firmly said.

His imperious decree helped fight against her attraction to him and fed her ire. “Says who? It’s my car.”

“But I’ve got orders and evasive maneuver training.”

“Since when does the military have their soldiers practice driving?”

“They don’t. But I’ve played enough video games and watched enough movies to know how to spot and lose a tail.”

Mouth agape, she stared at him. Speechless.

He laughed, a rich sound that should have irritated her, especially paired with his takeover of her vehicle. Instead, warmth swirled in her lower body. The jerk was much too handsome. And while she doubted his supposed evasion skills, truth was, he probably drove better than her. Just ask the half-dozen scrapes and dings on her car.

Distracted driving was what her last ticket said. Not her fault her mind wandered. Commuting was boring. Why couldn’t scientists hurry up and build an automated car?

Before he slid into the driver seat, he circled her car, even dropped to a knee to peer under it.

“What are you doing?” Other than presenting a delightful view of his butt as his combat pants stretched taut over it.

“Checking for bombs.”

A long blink helped her process his words. “Bombs?”

“Yes. But lucky you, your car seems clear.”

“Yay for me,” she muttered as she got into the passenger seat and buckled up.

Sliding into the driver seat, he grimaced at the tight fit. He fumbled underneath for the lever to push the seat back. He fiddled with all her presets, from her mirrors to her steering tilt.

The situation irked more and more. Laura wasn’t used to people in her space, and he wasn’t just in her space. He was changing it.

As he reversed, he must have caught something in her expression because he asked, “What’s wrong, Doc?”

“What could be possibly wrong with having a virtual stranger driving my car and being ordered to babysit me?”

“I don’t know if I’d call us strangers. I’ve been guarding you for a while now.”

“And yet yesterday is the first time we ever actually spoke.”

“True. But not because I haven’t wanted to. You’re usually working when I go off duty. Besides, how can you not feel a certain connection to me now? I did, after all, see you naked.”

He might have meant the comment and grin as a teaser, but it just made her blush.

“Please don’t remind me. I’m not in the habit of stripping in front of men whose name I don’t know.”

“Adam.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said my name is Adam. So now we’re not strangers anymore.”

“A name is supposed to make us friends?” She wrinkled her nose at his logic.

“Hmm, I suppose since you’re a doctor, you need a few more facts. I get that. Here goes. I am twenty-eight years old, a Sagittarius. I like watching and playing football, kicking butt in video games. Live on pizza. Hate brussel sprouts and sing in the shower.”