Rogue Faction Part 2: A Cyrus Cooper Thriller: Book Three

by Xander Weaver

  Chapter 12

  The Voss Compound

  9:21 pm

  Voss was sitting at his desk, staring idly at the ballpoint pen in his hand. He’d been there in the dark for hours, awash in a turbulent sea of confusing thoughts and troubling emotions. The memory dump he’d recovered from Cyrus was the most ambitious of his experiments to date, and he rationalized, as a result, that it was also the reason it was the most complex. In spite of all of his research, he’d failed to consider how subjects might function on differing levels of complexity, or that sharing in their experiences might offer varying physical and mental challenges.

  Voss was quick to understand that Cyrus’s mind operated on a level beyond that of previous test subjects. The complex nature of his thought processing was overwhelming. For such an unassuming young man, it was second nature for him to consider the actions and motivations of everyone he encountered. It made Voss curious how Cyrus would score on a standardized IQ test; he found the mental gymnastics constantly taking place in his mind astounding.

  Following the memory restoration process, Voss had been entirely overwhelmed by the onslaught of information and emotion. Realizing immediately that it was too much to handle, he took a sedative. It was a crude, improvised attempt to slow the flood of data that his mind was struggling to integrate. Afterward, it had taken hours—and two additional doses of sedatives—before Voss felt he was gaining control of the turbulent onslaught on new sensory input. Finally, the newly assimilated information began to collate into memories he could access and understand.

  One thing was certain—Cyrus Cooper wasn’t like any of his prior test subjects. And for someone who never seemed overly concerned with what was happening around him, he maintained a shocking level of situational awareness at all times.

  With time, Voss was able to sort through everything Cyrus had given him. What he learned left him at a loss for words, and unsure how to proceed from that point. Sitting alone in the darkness of his office, hours had passed before he finally felt able to discuss his concerns with Cyrus.

  When Cyrus stepped into the office, he didn’t seem surprised that the lights had been turned low. Voss took a sip from a bottle of water, hoping to find his voice. He found himself reluctant to meet the eyes of his guest and he knew that speaking with Cyrus would be an altogether greater challenge.

  The memory transfer had already changed their relationship in some tangible way. It was a side effect that Voss didn’t fully appreciate until that moment.

  Cyrus was looking around the silent office. That the guards had left them alone wasn’t lost on him. But then, precious little was lost on the young man. “Your security escort has been suspended,” Voss said, finally meeting Cyrus’s eyes. “Permanently.”

  The surprise on Cyrus’s face was genuine, Voss was now certain of that. That moment brought new understanding to Voss. He now had unique insight, not only into the way Cyrus thought, but in his emotional responses as well. It was the sort of awareness he’d hoped his technology would provide and aid in treating mental illness. It was a welcomed relief that such tangible understanding really could result from his work. It didn’t help him with Cyrus, but it was proof that his work had practical medical applications.

  Pointing Cyrus to one of the chairs opposite his desk, Voss then pulled himself to his feet. He was still far more weary than expected. When he rounded the desk, it was a relief to slip into the chair beside Cyrus.

  “We have a great deal to discuss,” Voss said quietly. Even the sound of his own voice seemed thunderous in the silence of his office. The words rattled in his ears along with the sound of his own heartbeat. He wondered how long it would be before the headache subsided. It felt like it would go on indefinitely.

  “I guessed as much,” Cyrus admitted. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure if you’d lock me up or kick me out once you were done with the memory transplant.”

  A grim smile played across Voss’s face. He leaned back in the chair and eyed the ceiling. “That’s interesting. I never considered it, but you’re right. The procedure really is more like a transplant than anything else.”

  When Cyrus didn’t respond, Voss remembered how the young man had an aversion filling a silence with his own thoughts. The insights he’d gleaned from the transplant were remarkable.

  Choosing his words carefully, Voss studied Cyrus. “You’re not who you appear to be.”

  “Few of us are,” Cyrus countered philosophically.

  That brought a chuckle. “True. But you, more than most.”

  “I can’t deny it.”

  “Your reasons for being here aside, I’m concerned about what brought you in the first place.”

  Cyrus met his gaze with a penetrating stare. “I can’t overstate this enough,” he warned. “No one can ever know what I’ve shared with you. That knowledge would put you and your loved ones in exceedingly great danger. Myself included.”

  “That’s where this procedure is helpful. I fully understand what you mean,” Voss assured.

  Glancing at the floor, Cyrus shook his head. He seemed resigned to the fact that there was no turning back now. “I hope you do.”

  “Your people, the Coalition…they pose a threat to my family.”

  “They want your technology,” Cyrus said bluntly. “But more than anything, they’re worried about what others would do with it. I’m sure you can see how it could be manipulated and made harmful.”

  Voss took a small sip of water from his bottle. “The same can be said for fire. Put to proper use, it warms us and lights our way. But if not properly managed it burns us; kills us.”

  A small smile crept across Cyrus’s face. “Fair enough. As you know, your technology is why I was sent here. But I chose to be here for reasons of my own.”

  “You’ve come for my daughter.” Voss said, trepidation lacing his words. But when Cyrus didn’t look away under his withering glare, Voss felt satisfying confirmation of everything he already knew.

  “I won’t let anything happen to Natasha,” Cyrus said flatly. The truth of the statement was reflected in his stare as fervently as it was in his mind. And it was true. He’d demonstrated as much since his arrival.

  Voss closed his eyes and nodded. He took a few deep breaths and made an attempt to calm his frayed nerves before looking at Cyrus once more.

  “It’s me, isn’t it?” Cyrus asked, his voice almost a whisper. He looked concerned. “You absorbed it all? Not just the memories but the emotions too?”

  A tired smile touched the corners of Voss’s lips as he offered the barest hint of a nod.

  There was a long pause.

  “And you disapprove?” Cyrus asked.

  Voss stared down at the floor. He considered his response; he sat motionless for well over a minute. There was nothing he could say that seemed appropriate. For everything he now had swirling around inside his head, words weren’t capable of expressing what he was experiencing. He’d just communicated with another person in a way that was beyond anything Homo sapiens had ever managed. Finding that communication to be only one directional was disconcerting. It meant he had to find words to express complex feelings, concerns, and thoughts verbally, which he wasn’t sure was possible.

  Finally, Voss reached out and placed his water bottle on the corner of the desk. There was a slight tremor in his hand; one that hadn’t subsided since the event. He knew it made him look as weak on the outside as he felt inside.

  “The procedure has shown me a great deal about you, Cyrus. But only three things matter right now. The first is that, regardless of what brought you here, you mean my family no harm. Second, whoever is attacking us, I think you’re our best chance we have at stopping them. And third, you are a good man. You love my daughter, and you would die to protect her. I don’t just believe this—I know it.”

  Never breaking his gaze, Cyrus sat silently. Voss knew he was being given a chance to speak his mind. They both knew there was far more left unsaid. But for the moment, that was e
nough.

  “I will speak with Dargo,” Voss said. “You’ll have access to his resources, and whatever else you need. You’ll also have access to any part of this facility below the fourth floor. And your security escort has been reassigned.”

  Thinking better of it, Voss added, “I wouldn’t expect Dargo to go out of his way to make you comfortable. As you requested, I won’t be telling him why I’ve come to these decisions. While I’m confident he will comply with my wishes, I’m certain he won’t do it happily—or without question.”

  Cyrus smiled. “I can live with that. I appreciate your support and your consideration.”

  Standing up, Cyrus took a long look at him. Voss knew what he saw. At that moment, he was more exhausted than he could ever recall feeling. Slouched in the chair, with shoulders slumped, Voss couldn’t imagine the pain behind his eyes leaving him any time soon.

  “There’s more, isn’t there?” Cyrus asked, seeming suddenly to decide against leaving the room.

  Voss offered a slight dip of his head. A new level of defeat shadowed his countenance. “I need to know… No—I should say, I feel compelled to ask: What will you tell her about her father?”

  There was no question in Voss’s mind that Cyrus would understand what he was referring to. Though judging from his expression, he hadn’t anticipated their conversation taking this particular turn.

  Cyrus walked back to the chair, and sat. “As you already know, I only have suspicions.”

  “Yes, and as we both know, your instincts tend to serve you well in these matters. So I’ll save you the trouble of checking for yourself. You have guessed correctly.”

  Lapsing into a long silence, it was some time before Voss finally met Cyrus’s stare. “If you intend to tell her, I only ask that you allow me time to prepare for what will follow,” he said quietly.

  Voss felt the weight of Cyrus’s penetrating gaze and realized the young man was sizing him up. If there was any levity to be found in the moment, it was the fact that his daughter’s suitor was taking his measure of her father. The spark of admiration Voss held for him grew stronger as he realized, with some personal pride, that his daughter had chosen well.

  Still, Voss was left to wonder exactly what Cyrus saw when he studied him. Voss was a man who had made his share of mistakes, but Cyrus knew nothing of those—No…that wasn’t entirely true. He knew enough. He knew part of Voss’s single greatest regret, but it wasn’t the full story.

  “It’s not my place,” Cyrus said at last. “I’m not here to intrude on family matters, not unless they compromise Natasha’s safety.”

  With a silent sigh, Voss slowly closed his eyes. To his surprise, he found himself mouthing a silent prayer—something he hadn’t done since he was a child.

  After a minute had passed, Voss opened his eyes once more. They were moist, and he felt as though he’d been offered a reprieve of some kind. Fear and relief were now present in equal measures, where before there had only been fear.

  “You must think it terribly unfair of me to keep such a secret,” he said.

  When Cyrus didn’t respond, Voss continued, “Before Natasha was born her mother, Eleanor, and I, were going through a rough patch.

  “It was entirely my fault, I’m afraid,” he explained. “We’d been married for several years and were both working for the same company at that point. I’m sorry to say that I’d become entirely consumed with my work on Shadowlight, and our married life suffered.”

  Cyrus watched Voss as he spoke. There was no hint of judgment on his face.

  “I was almost never home,” Voss continued. “I worked day and night in the lab; often gone for days at a time. I was doing remarkable, cutting edge research,” he said with a sad smile. “But it’s funny how little that means in the grand scheme of things, when all is said and done.

  “Eleanor was working, too. She was a corporate attorney for Onyx Gander, a position that had her traveling often. At the time, Dargo was also employed by Onyx. He was one of their security people—a bodyguard, really. All the top executives were assigned a security detail when traveling. It was an unfortunate fact of life back then. Not much has changed in that regard, I suppose.

  “Anyway, fairly frequently when Eleanor traveled, Dargo was assigned to her detail.”

  “And they had an affair,” Cyrus contributed for the first time.

  Voss’s eyes rose, filled with indecision. His head tipped slowly from side to side as he considered the statement. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “To call it an affair threatens to cheapen it in some way. Eleanor wasn’t like that, you see. Not the type to cheat or fool around.

  “No,” he said, as if his mind had drifted off to some long faded memory. “For her to have a relationship with Dargo there would have been something there. Not something cheap or tawdry.”

  Voss’s focus quickly shifted back to the present and a sad smile crossed his face. “Once Eleanor became pregnant, it was as if the entire world around me came into focus for the first time in many years. I was happier than I’d ever been. The baby changed everything for us, mostly because it changed everything for me. I shifted my attention away from work and started spending all of my free time at home, getting ready for the baby—Natasha. In every way, it really was the best thing that ever happened to our marriage.”

  Voss realized Cyrus was sitting silently, hanging on every word.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said with a disappointed shake of his head. “But I didn’t find out about that until later. For Eleanor, it was enough to have me back in her life—and she was happy, too. Everything just clicked. And not long after Natasha was born, we became pregnant with Anna. Those were absolutely the happiest days of my life.”

  The bright rays of happiness shifted and a darkness appeared in Voss’s disposition. “But sometimes the best of times can’t be made to last,” he said in a dry, husky voice. “Not long after Anna was born, Eleanor was taken from us.”

  “It was a car bomb,” Cyrus said. “Right in the middle of downtown?”

  Voss nodded silently. He sat for a long time before finding the words to continue. “It was never determined why she was killed. And I was never sure whether she’d been the intended target. Only one thing was certain—I would do anything to protect my family. So I left Onyx Gander. I cashed in my stock options and sold my rights to the company patents. I moved my family here. I built this place so no one could ever hurt us again.”

  Cyrus offered a nod of understanding. But then, Voss realized, what could he say to such an outpouring.

  “But you have Dargo working for you now—a constant reminder of it all. Isn’t that difficult for you?” Cyrus asked finally.

  Voss grinned, but shook his head. “I didn’t learn about Eleanor and Dargo until after Eleanor was taken from me. And at that point, I realized that it didn’t change things at all. If anything, I owed them both for what had happened. If it hadn’t been for Natasha, my life would’ve turned out very different, and it wouldn’t have been nearly as rewarding.

  “Dargo might be Natasha’s father, but in my heart she’ll always be my little girl. For that, I owe Dargo a debt I can never repay.”

  “So you let him work for you?”

  “He’s an unusual man,” Voss admitted with a shrug. “But this arrangement is of his choosing. It allows him to watch over Natasha. He’s watched her grow into a beautiful and strong young woman. He doesn’t have good people skills, and I don’t think he would know what to do with a family if he had one of his own. So this works best for everyone. He watches over both girls as if they were his, and I know without any doubt that they are as safe as humanly possible.”

  “Alright,” Cyrus said with some degree of finality. “I think that actually makes sense to me. It’s unconventional, but it works for you. But you know that you’ll have to tell her the truth one day.”

  Taking a deep breath, Voss released it slowly. “True. It was easier to deal with that concern when she was you
ng. As you say, the matter was so unconventional that I couldn’t very well explain things until she was old enough to understand the circumstances involved. But now, that day has come, and I’m just biding my time until I can find the right words to explain things.”

  “Well…good luck with that,” Cyrus said with a good natured laugh. “Maybe a memory transplant is the best approach,” he chided, “because I don’t know if you’ll ever find the right words to fully explain this one. Not to someone with so much invested.”

  Voss smiled, but he knew Cyrus was right.

  “All kidding aside,” Cyrus said frankly. “It’s a big deal, and she deserves to know. But it’s not going to change the way she feels about you.”

  “I wish I knew that were true.”

  “You do,” Cyrus said, tapping his index finger audibly on the side of his own skull. “You know for sure because I know for sure. There’s not a doubt in my mind,” he grinned.

  Voss laughed, “Yes, you do offer a unique perspective.”

  The implications of Voss’s phrase held several meanings, more than he might have intentionally voiced given the circumstances. But he could tell from Cyrus’s expression that he understood his alternate meaning.

  “I feel like I should apologize for the things you must’ve experienced,” Cyrus said, searching for his own appropriate words. “But the truth is, the thoughts and memories that are probably troubling you the most are the ones I’ll never apologize for. To anyone. Ever.”

  Voss burst out laughing. It was a tired, but sincere belly laugh. “Nor should you, my boy. Not ever. If anything, I’m the one who owes you an apology. The fact is, I never considered the breadth or scope of the experiences transferred. In this case it constitutes an egregious breach of your privacy—err, and that of my daughter’s. And for that, I can never make amends. But I am truly sorry.”

  After a shake of his hand, Voss watched Cyrus leave the room. And as he made his way back to his desk, Voss’s mind was already considering ways he might isolate the types of memories that were selected in the transfer process. As it turned out, the massive information transfer was a good start, but the process had yet to be perfected. He was suffering, both under the load of information he’d received, as well as the scope of the memories that were transplanted. The procedure would be far more effective if he could develop a way to further isolate selective memories and restrict the capture of additional sensory related data. Medical science was currently suffering from an information deficiency that made treating patients with cognitive disorders far too complicated. But if he couldn’t better isolate the information targeted with his memory procedure, superfluous information might prove equally detrimental. If he’d learned anything from Cyrus’s download, it was that targeting certain memories would be critical to the future of his work.