Peyton 313: A Cyborg Adventure

Chapter 11-2

“Yes. What you say is true, Nero. But a partially restored cyborg in hand is better than us trying to gain access to another fully wired cyborg later on. Norton doesn’t want me dead. They want me working for them. They want me to continue helping them make organic robots out of the cyborgs. Well, I’m not going to do that and I won’t let Peyton be used to force my hand.”

There was silence in the lab as all three of them digested her declaration. Kyra lifted her chin and held Nero’s gaze. “I have to try and finish what I started.”

“I hate this, but I know it’s a waste of breath to keep arguing. So what more can we do to help you with your insanity?” Nero asked.

“Nothing. You’ve bought me more time and made sure I can escape undetected if it comes to that. I need you two to leave soon because Peyton thinks I came to kick you out. I want it to look that way. I don’t want to make him any more suspicious than he already is.”

Nero put a hand out to stop Kyra when she tried to walk away. “What are you going to do about him, Kyra? And about leaving? Do you even have a plan for what to do if your rogue Marine captain goes ape s**t ballistic?”

Kyra reached out and took hold of Nero’s arm. “No. I don’t have all the answers yet. Now that we know the wrist and ankle restraints are still functioning, I’m not afraid of him losing control. So long as I retain the power to stop any attack he might make, I think I have to play this game until its end. If I win, Peyton wins—sort of. If I lose... ? Well, let’s just hope my luck is better than that.”

Brad fished out a small round object from his pocket and held out his hand. “Here, Dr. Winters. This might come in handy if you have to make a run for it. It’s my latest invention—a tiny portable sweeper. Not much power in it, but it will shield you for a short call if you need to contact us from somewhere outside your shielded lab.”

Kyra took the small marble sized device. There was a tiny switch built into the side of it to turn it on. “Thank you, Brad. Thanks for all your help.”

“It’s my sincere pleasure to be on your rogue team,” Brad said, nodding.

Kyra relaxed a little when she saw Brad grinning like the kid he mostly still was. It made his scary knowledge of cyborg double-wiring slightly fade from her mind.

“Rogue team? I guess that’s as good a word as any to describe us. Brad, are you ever going to call me Kyra? You technically don’t work for me anymore.”

“I figure I can do that when you’re a hundred years old and I’m a lot older than I am now. Until then, I’d like to keep things mostly professional between us. That way if anything happens later on—like you decide you want a younger man to keep your bed warm—well then we’d have somewhere less professional to go with our relationship.”

Kyra laughed at Brad’s outrageously flirty comment, and then laughed more when Nero smacked Brad hard on the back of his head.

“Dude, stop hitting on Kyra. Stick to Gloria,” Nero ordered.

“Gloria?” Kyra repeated the name, smiling warmly at Brad who looked sheepish at the mention of another woman in his life.

Brad sighed and answered reluctantly. “Gloria is every man’s dream woman. Nero here is just jealous because I have a girlfriend and he doesn’t.”

Snorting, Kyra reached out to rub the tightness between Nero’s shoulder blades. “Well, Nero here could have lots of girlfriends if he wanted. He’s selective about women, which is a rare quality in a man.”

“Oh yeah, sure. If you don’t mind sleeping alone all the time,” Brad said, shrugging his shoulders.

Smiling at the simple male logic, Kyra opened the lab door as she listened to Nero haranguing Brad over his skirt chasing. She secretly thought Nero should do more of his own, but had long ago learned to keep opinions of that nature to herself.

“Out. Both of you heroes,” Kyra ordered, stopping just beyond the lab door. She saw Peyton quickly disappear from the hallway into the kitchen. Had he been eavesdropping through the lab door?

After exiting, Kyra ordered lab security to cycle entry codes, then she walked the men to the front door of her home. Nero surprised her by hugging her fiercely again. He also glared once in the direction of the kitchen before reluctantly leaving.

Kyra waved as they both climbed into Nero’s sleek air jet. Then she closed the door and headed to see what her double-wired cyborg spy was up to in her kitchen.

Her mouth dropped open when she found Peyton using her stainless steel teakettle to boil water. “You didn’t have to use my artifact. The water dispenser has a built-in heater.”

“Your stress level has been elevated almost since the moment we woke up. I thought you might need a little something normal to help you reach a state of calm again.”

Peyton kept his back to Kyra hoping the non-aggressive action would help her lower her guard with him again. He was trying not to come across as commanding and controlling. Without using the Cyber Husband chip’s recommendations, he was finding his aggressiveness hard to monitor on his own.

“While you were in the lab with your friends, I investigated the teakettle and realized you actually use it instead of the water dispenser. It wasn’t hard to figure out how it worked. I’m assuming that efficiency is not the goal of using this antiquated device.”

Kyra smiled as she walked to the table and sat. “No. Using the teakettle is not efficient, but it offers a lesson in patience to wait for the water to heat in it. Did you get the bed and clothes moved to the pod storage area?”

“Yes to both. Now are you going to tell me what’s really wrong? Or are you going to keep trying to convince the giant cyborg you don’t fear that you’re intimidated over something those two skinny young men said or did?”

Kyra studied Peyton’s back, which was still turned to her. There was no getting around his extraordinary perception where she was concerned. To lie to him or not was her choice to make at the moment, but she suddenly wished with everything in her that those broad shoulders of his could share some of her mental burden. Her wishful thinking made her sigh. It was impossible to keep her emotional distance from a man who had obviously memorized how she took her tea after watching her make it only once.

“Sorry if I seem a little weird today, Peyton. I’ve never had a man make me tea in my own kitchen before. I think I could get used to having a real Cyber Husband who did such things. I’m almost sorry now that I’m going to have to cut you loose one day.”

The teakettle’s whistling signal finally sounded, and she saw Peyton snap off the heat source in response. She watched him pour boiling water carefully over the powered tea. Then he stirred it with the spoon the same number of times she did before removing it from the cup to add honey. His careful consideration of all details involving her ritual was just a matter of excellent memory programming. She couldn’t let herself forget that no matter how charmed she was by his thoughtfulness.

But it still suited her to believe that Peyton’s intuition about Nero and Brad destroying her calm was part of the real man within.

When Peyton set the tea in front of her, he smiled when she sighed over the steaming cup of liquid.

“I think I got it right. I’m finding I have to make notes about things like this now. I have a sense that the human part of me keeps arguing about what’s important and not important enough to have to recall. I should have recorded your actions when I observed you making tea earlier.”

“Thank you. I’m sure it’s fine.” Closing her eyes, Kyra lifted her cup to her nose and sniffed. The smell of minty green tea never failed to soothe. “If I’m not very calm today, it’s because I still have many things I need to tell you. Nero and Brad added to my mental stress with their interruption this morning.”

Peyton watched Kyra sip the tea he had made. It gave him a sense of satisfaction. While not as great as the pleasure he’d felt removing her old bed from the house, it was still pleasing to see her relax even a little. As she sipped, her gaze kept moving around the kitchen to rest on some spot in the space here and there. Kyra seemed more lost in her thoughts than usual and that was saying a lot for the restless scientist he was coming to know. Too bad her brain wasn’t as readily accessible to him as his was to her.

“Sharing data with me would be a lot easier if you were a cyborg too, Doc. I could tune myself to the frequency of your thoughts.”

Kyra had heard such links were created for military reasons, but she had not been part of that work. “Your military programming was done outside the scope of the codes that keep your cybernetics running and functional. That protocol functions on top of what I developed. What’s it like to be ‘tuned’ into other cyborgs?”

Peyton thought for a moment about how to describe it. “It’s a hierarchy based on rank. No one above captain was cybernetically combat modified to the best of my knowledge. After my field promotion, I had the highest rank among my group of Marines. My communication capabilities extend to all Cyber Soldiers, but my officer programming focuses most specifically on talking to my Marines. Basically, being tuned into each other means once I’m on the same frequency as they are, I can issue orders wirelessly, which they have to follow. When we used that during the war, the trick was to find a com channel the enemy wasn’t monitoring. With just over two hundred options, I’m proud to say our government managed to creatively cycle through those better than anyone else.”

Kyra sipped and narrowed her gaze, her mind working quickly. She had been wondering how they could possibly collect other cyborgs discreetly. It would be great if Peyton could literally call them to him. “Can you tell if that military protocol is still enabled?”

Peyton nodded. “Yes. It is a chip based functionality and my diagnostics show that all military chips are still active. Some of mine do seem to be in some sort of sleep mode at the moment. I’ve actually been trying to run diagnostics on the protocol chip directly, but something seems to be preventing the level two check from happening. I noted the anomaly on the report I sent you. Didn’t you see that?”

“No. What report?” Kyra asked, surprised by the information.

“Each time a diagnostic report finishes, I’m having it sent to your portable. I created a wireless connection that allows me to send, but not receive from your unit,” Peyton said, intrigued by her eyebrow lift. “Is that a problem? You seem to use your portable far more than your handheld devices.”

“No—no problem. How did you get around the password?” Kyra watched Peyton’s eyes for any sign that he was running some sort of decryption software but could find no fluctuations in his eye movements or any other facial tics.

“I figured a cyber scientist wouldn’t ask such a basic question. No password is needed for one-way communications, Dr. Winters. You have your portable set to receive all incoming communications without prior approval. I assume you have that setting so your incoming email isn’t restricted in any way.”

“That’s right. I do. The level of spam communication I get as a result is daunting, but I’m always afraid I’ll miss something if I change it. Were you ever an IT Tech?”

Peyton shook his head. “No. Any knowledge I seem to need is just there in my help files. I access them when I have a question. They seem to be running at a hundred percent efficiency. I don’t know how current the data is though because I don’t have access to the last date my uplinks were flashed for upgrade. The Cyber Husband report indicates I’m as up to date as I can be made to be.”

The answer to her dilemma popped into her mind much easier than she could have ever predicted. Peyton’s last upgrade was probably when his secondary processor was installed. Since the upgrade information was being hidden from his primary processor, she wondered if the secondary processor’s very existence was being kept from Peyton’s conscious mind. If the secondary processor only activated during his down time—like when he was sleeping—Peyton might never think of the episodes as anything more than very active dreams, if he remembered them at all.