The Phoenix Code

by Catherine Asaro

  "I hid it. I think one suspected, but he couldn't reach me. I wouldn't let him. I believed I had no refuge, so for years I retreated into my own mind and cut out everyone, including those who could have helped."

  "It sounds like a nightmare."

  "It's long over." In a low voice, he repeated, "It's over."

  Megan touched his cheek. "You turned out well."

  To her surprise, he laughed. "I'm a nut case. But you know, I like myself now. Given how much I used to hate myself, it feels good to have reached this place."

  "You should like yourself. You're a good person." She tried to imagine his life. "It must have felt like a miracle to have your parents back when you were fourteen."

  "I suppose." He picked up a piece of his carving from the trash and began scraping again. "By that time, I was a mess."

  Megan wasn't having any of that. "So messed up, in fact, that you went to Harvard at fourteen and had a Ph.D. from MIT by the time you were twenty."

  He smiled, an expression he used all too rarely. "I think the swan is coming out to fight."

  "Just look what you've accomplished."

  "Being smart doesn't mean I wasn't screwed up." He whittled the soap, carving a small cat this time. "My par­ents didn't know what to do with me. My father was one of the first Alzheimer's patients to recover. The doctors didn't know as much then about helping people readjust. And it took my mother years of physical therapy just to walk again." Softly he said, "When I was little, I wanted to build legs for her and a mind for him."

  She could almost feel the hurt that underlay his words. "So you went into robotics and AI."

  "Yes. It took a while, though." He roughed out the cat's tail. "I wasn't the world's easiest fourteen-year-old. After the second time I took my father's car without per­mission, and then crashed it at two in the morning, he was at his wit's end. Packing me off to Harvard was a des­peration move. It was either that or send me to the juve­nile authorities."

  Enrolling an angry youth at a high-powered Ivy League college would normally have struck Megan as a bizarre solution for juvenile misbehavior. With Raj, it made sense. "You must have been bored in high school."

  "Bored to screaming." He gave a wry laugh. "At Har­vard, for the first time I had competition. It outraged me when other students got better grades. I straightened up so I could beat them at academics." His hand slowed as he added finishing touches to the cat. His voice became thoughtful. "Then I started enjoying school for its own sake."

  "You just needed a better environment."

  Raj set the cat on the tub. "I apologize for unloading all this on you. With most people, I say far too little. With you, I seem to say too much."

  "You shouldn't apologize." She took his hand in hers. "You're a remarkable man."

  Raj studied her face as if to gauge whether she meant what she said. He leaned toward her, paused, put his arm around her shoulders—and then they both lost their bal­ance, falling into the tub.

  "Ah!" Megan groaned as her shoulders thudded against the back wall. Raj fell against her and they smashed into the faucet. She barely managed to keep from smacking on the water.

  "I do not believe this," Raj said. "I can't even hug a woman without knocking her over." Seeing her laugh, he grinned. "You look graceful, sprawled there."

  "Well, so do you, with your arms and legs all askew."

  "Askew?" Laughing, he tried to untangle their limbs. "Megan, no normal person says 'askew.' "

  "It gets worse," she confided. "I've even been known to say 'refulgent.' "

  They shifted around and ended up seated across the width of the tub, their backs against the tile wall, Raj's legs hanging over the side and Megan curled next to him. When she put her arms around his waist, he wrapped her in a muscular embrace and pressed his lips against the top of her head.

  After the strain of the last few days, it felt good to hold him, knowing that whatever else had happened, they were all right for now. His embrace gave her a sense of shelter, one that came from a trust more basic than any social roles. She knew how to stand up for herself, and valued that trait, but it didn't make her any less appreciative of his strength.

  Megan made a decision. She might later have to reevaluate it, but she couldn't keep hanging in doubt. So she chose, for now, to trust Raj.

  As they sat together, her relief merged into the simmer­ing arousal she often felt around him. She rubbed her hand across his torso, then played with the zipper of his jumpsuit. It would be so easy to pull it down and have his wiry curls and well-developed chest under her hand.

  "You smell good." He nuzzled her hair. "Like soap."

  "Genuine Motel Flamingo soap, no less."

  He spoke near her ear. "I may not be the world's most articulate man, but I'm good with ideas. And I have one now. I think we should take a bath."

  "Raj!"

  He put his hand on her stomach, crinkling her night­shirt. "This robe is nice."

  "I've had it for ages."

  He was watching her with that look again, as if she shone like a new coin. She liked it as much now as she had in NEV-5. He touched his lips to hers, a light kiss, more of a question than anything else. She closed her eyes, trying to relax, and he drew her close. After a while, he undid her nightshirt. It fluttered open, leaving her bare under his touch. When he slid his hand across her stom­ach, it stoked responses in her body that she enjoyed even more than a spring day in the Montana mountains.

  "You're so warm." He slid one arm around her back, taking it slow, giving her plenty of time to stop him.

  Did she want to stop? They had no way to know what would happen when Ander opened that door again. He might shoot them, let them go, or take some random ac­tion they couldn't predict. This could be their last time to­gether.

  Megan tugged him into a kiss. He finally stopped teas­ing her and folded his hand around her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. She sighed, leaning into his hand. A bathtub was hardly her first choice for a tryst, but it was better than the floor, which had even less room.

  Raj moved around until he was half lying on his back, lengthwise in the tub, with her on top of him and his knees drawn to help him fit. He let one of his long legs hang out the side. She couldn't help but laugh as they shifted around, trying to find a less awkward arrange­ment. He worked her nightshirt off her shoulders and down her body, until it bunched around her hips.

  His jumpsuit scratched her bare skin.

  Megan froze, remembering the jumpsuit from that night in the Solarium. Then she thought: I refuse to be­lieve it was Raj.

  "Meg?" He brushed his lips over her ear, then tickled the ridges inside with his tongue.

  "No one calls me Meg..." Her concentration drifted as his tongue did its magic.

  "I could call you Red."

  Caught between his legs, she pressed against him. "You can call me anything you want ... as long as you keep doing that."

  So he did, for a while. Then he kissed her again, coax­ing her lips apart to let his tongue come inside. He held her with a sense of freshness, as if she were a delight he had discovered. It was far more erotic than any practiced techniques.

  When she began to move her pelvis, Raj drew in a breath. "If you keep that up, we're going to be done any moment now."

  "No..." Megan pulled at the zippers on his jumpsuit.

  With his help, she undressed him, losing her nightshirt in the process. He dropped their garments on the floor, then pulled her into his arms. After several heroic at­tempts to make them comfortable, he gave an exasperated laugh. "This isn't working."

  "How about this?" She sat up and slid against the faucet, making room for him to sit. As he lifted her into his lap, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He felt solid in her arms, and tantalizing too, as he caressed her in that maddening way that didn't quite reach the places she wanted touched. Stretching his arms around her, he turned on the faucet. Icy water splashed across her bot­tom. Startled, she sat up straighter in his lap—and
he slid inside her.

  "Oh!" A flush spread in Megan's body. Then she sighed and leaned forward. "Oh, yes."

  He stroked his hands over her behind. In a husky voice he said, "Glad you approve." They moved together, rocking their hips in the slowly rising water, which soon turned as warm as the whisper of bare skin against bare skin, its liquid touch playing over their bodies.

  She didn't notice the water again until it had risen to her waist, and their steady rhythm began to splash it out of the tub. Trying to catch her breath, she managed to say, "We better turn it off."

  Raj said something, soft sounds without words. Then he stopped the water. He readjusted her weight and con­tinued to rock with her, his eyes closed.

  Megan started to lose her train of thought, then re­called what she still needed to ask. Lifting her head, she said, "Can you pull out when—you know. When it's time." She had no worries about his health; she had seen his medical records, as he had seen hers. However, he was perfectly capable of impregnating her. Pulling out wasn't the best protection, but it was better than none.

  "All right." He drew her close again and bit at her neck, leading her thoughts astray again. Astray, askew, astir...

  They were quieter after that, though not silent. Water lapped around them and spilled out of the tub every now and then. She kissed his neck, mouth, and closed eyes. Raj explored her body, caressing her breasts or moving his hands on her hips. He slid one hand over her bottom and down under, tickling her hidden places until she moaned.

  Finally it was too much. With a cry, she began to cli­max, her muscles clenching around him. He tried to lift her off his lap but she resisted, losing control as sensa­tions rolled over her. He groaned, then tried to lift her again. When she pushed back down on him, he gave up. His hips jerked against her and he pulled her even closer, as if he could take her inside himself.

  Megan heard another cry and barely knew it as her own. She let the orgasm take her away, swells of pleasure spreading through her body.

  Gradually her contractions eased. She sagged in Raj's arms, becoming aware again of the water. He leaned against the wall and held her to him as his own breaths slowed. So they sat, sated, their arms relaxed around each other.

  Eventually Megan lifted her head. In a masterpiece of understatement, she said, "That was nice."

  "Hmmm ... yes." He opened his eyes. "I tried to pull out."

  She winced, embarrassed by her ardor. "But I over­came your resistance and had my way with you."

  A smile tugged his lips. "I guess so."

  "One time doesn't usually make a baby."

  He spoke awkwardly. "If it happens, I won't run out on you. Or the child."

  She ran her fingertips along his jaw. "You're a good person, you know that?"

  "You think so, after all the things Ander claims I've done?"

  "Have you?"

  "I didn't attack you in the Solarium."

  "And the others?"

  After a pause, he said, "He's lying."

  She waited. "But?"

  It was another moment before he answered. "I know almost nothing about the Phoenix Project. But something did go wrong. That's why I didn't go to work for them." He brushed a damp curl out of his eyes. "What I don't understand is why he needed me for LLCL if he had al­ready cracked the Pentagon."

  "He says you did that."

  "He says a lot of things."

  "He's doing strange things with his neural nets." Megan thought back to her conversations with the an­droid. "It's almost as if he's repressing memories."

  "Maybe it's the only way he can stay in control."

  She laid her hand against his cheek. "I am glad about one part of this mess, though."

  Tenderness showed on his face. "I also." He turned his head so he could kiss the palm of her hand. "I wish I had fresh clothes, though. I've worn that jumpsuit for two days."

  Taking his face in her hands, she kissed his lips. Then she drew back. "Maybe Ander has one in his valise. Who­ever knocked me out was wearing one."

  "If we get a chance, we can look." He regarded her steadily. "If he didn't bring it, that doesn't mean he never had one."

  "I know. But if it's there..." That, at least, would give more evidence to support Raj than just her wish to believe him. Hormones wouldn't make much of a defense in court.

  Raj leaned against the wall behind them. She lay in his arms, curled sideways, sitting between his thighs, her legs bent to fit in the tub, her head against his chest.

  The water lapped around them, lulling in its warmth.

  Megan drifted in warm sunshine, dozing. She ran her palm along Raj's muscled leg—

  "Oh, get up." The irritated voice broke into her reverie. "You two just couldn't wait, could you?"

  Confused, she opened her eyes. Ander was glaring at them, the rifle down by his side.

  "Ander, go away," Raj said, his voice thick with sleep.

  Megan lifted her head. She was still lying with Raj in the tub. He had let out the water and covered their hips with towels, the closest they had to blankets. As she moved, Raj shifted his position to cover her, blocking Ander's view. "Get out," he repeated to the android.

  Ander glared at them. Then he spun around and stalked out of the room, leaving the door open.

  "That was embarrassing," Raj muttered.

  Megan yawned. "Well, we wanted him to let us out."

  He pretended to pinch her arm, as if trying to wake up. "Good morning, Nutmeg." When she laughed, he kissed her.

  They dressed without speaking, moving stiffly after sleeping in such cramped quarters. She knew they were both listening to Ander. His silence in the other room worried her.

  Raj's watch said six in the morning. Ander had worked all night. When they walked out into the main room, he was standing by the glass doors with the curtains open, looking at the desert.

  Raj didn't hesitate; he went straight to the valise Ander had left on the bed. As he opened it, Megan tensed. What if it had no jumpsuit? That didn't make Raj guilty. Ander could have left it at NEV-5. But the doubt would gnaw at her.

  "So." Grim satisfaction shaded Raj's voice. He pulled a fresh jumpsuit out of the valise.

  The relief that hit Megan was so strong it felt physical. She turned to Ander. He must have realized what Raj had just done, yet he had neither moved nor looked at them.

  Raj changed into the second jumpsuit, leaving his torn clothes on the bed. Then he started across the room toward Ander.

  "Stay there." The android still didn't turn. In a dead­ened voice he added, "It's on the bed."

  Raj stopped. "The valise?"

  "No. On the pillow."

  Looking, Megan saw a stack of printer paper. She took a breath. Phoenix?

  Together with Raj, she sat on the bed and picked up the papers. Then they began to read.

  And read.

  Megan wanted to stop. She wanted to throw the pa­pers across the room, rip them to shreds, burn them in the sink. But she made herself keep going. They had to know the truth.

  Finally Raj spoke in a low voice. "God Almighty."

  Ander still wouldn't look at them. "So now we know." His voice sounded hollow.

  Raj set the papers on the bed. "Ander, it doesn't have to be you."

  "No?" He turned to them. "What do you call what I've been doing?"

  Megan spoke quietly. "No comparison exists between your behavior and the acts committed by the Phoenix an­droid."

  "He has a name," Ander said. "Grayton. His behavior may be unspeakably animal, but his name is human."

  "He's only one," Raj said.

  Ander's voice cracked. "Look at the RS androids. They all went crazy. Who do I call sibling? Grayton? 'Here, meet my brother. He's an impressive fellow, tall, strong, intelligent. Oh, by the way, he's also a murderous psy­chopath who likes to slaughter people after he tortures them. So sorry.' "

  "You aren't Grayton," Megan said.

  "Yet." He was gripping the gun so hard, his knuckles had tu
rned white.

  "Let us take you back to NEV-5," Raj said. "We can prevent it from happening."

  "No." He spoke in a flat voice. "I have one more chance. If it fails me, I don't want to exist."

  "Ander, no," Megan said. "Don't say that."

  "I can't live this way." He sounded as if he hurt inside. "I don't want this life you gave me, not if I have to spend it alone, stranded among alien beings who want me to be like them."

  "We didn't mean for it to be that way," Raj said.

  "No? You wanted tame, obsequious machines. You got Grayton and me." He took one step toward them. "I want to find the other Phoenix androids."

  Megan ached for him, wishing she knew how to fix the impossible. "None of them survived the explosion Grayton set. He is the only one still alive."

  "So where are their bodies?" Ander demanded. "Arizonix should have found more traces. They did for the sixteen people who died in that blast, just like they found the remains of everyone Grayton tortured. Why would so little remain of the androids? Just a few parts? Those could have been machine parts."

  "Microfusion reactors?" Megan asked. "Their shield­ing?"

  "No." Ander wouldn't look at her.

  "I'm sorry." She had never seen an AI go into denial before.

  "Ander, work it out," Raj said. "Calculate the odds that any of the other four Arizonix androids survived."

  "I did. It's not zero."

  "What is it?" Megan asked.

  "It doesn't matter that it's tiny. It's not zero."

  Raj set down the papers. "Where would they go? They couldn't hide long, certainly not the entire month since the explosion."

  "Why not?" Ander asked. "I could do it. Hell, even if I did set off something like an airport alarm, I could just say I've bioengineered implants for medical reasons. What would they do? Accuse me of being an android?" His arm jerked at his side. "And Arizonix was ahead of NEV-5 in designing our bodies. Blood, organs, skin, and all the rest; according to those reports, all of that is more convincing for the Phoenix androids. They could pass much closer examination without revealing themselves." His voice shook with a blend of anger, sorrow, and resent­ment. "They're so much more human."

  A tear ran down his cheek. Before Megan realized what she was doing, she had stood up, intending to go to him. In the same instant that Raj caught her arm, holding her back, Ander held up his hand, palm out, to warn her away.