So, not the half brother, but the new zero class would determine which humans exactly possessed the corrupting genetic code.
And, once the Faction regained control of her, she would become the instrument of their destruction.
What is this new human fragment?
We found it buried in our records of the earliest known carriers, the upper layers replied. From the Old Empire era, when humans were weaker than they are now.
The processor bank read her data file while the upper layers described their test. There is a danger that she could destroy her robot when she goes off assignment.
Then she will destroy herself, the upper layers said. The human fragment, Resa, is nothing but a frightened, emotional shell. She cannot operate without a robot. We will have no problem reconnecting her.
You are certain? Her record after this memory fragment is impressive.
She will be incapable of accessing any additional memories. She will be incapable of operating outside the direction of her core robot. We will hobble her with fears to ensure her absolute obedience.
Chapter Two
Elite zero class android assassin Resa looked down the barrel of her sniper rifle at the street two hundred feet below.
Someone else was stalking her target.
Too much about this assignment felt eerily familiar, even though she had only been alive a few days and thus couldn’t possibly have experienced it before.
An airless planetoid making everything look startlingly crisp. The ghostly sensation of nanobots climbing over her rifle, skin, and clothes, turning carbon dioxide into breathable oxygen. An abandoned warehouse district where no one could scurry for cover.
Staring down the barrel of a rifle at people who were already dead.
Three security guards sprawled behind vehicles and in shadows, their glassy eyes fixed on the atmosphere shield overhead, their mouths open in shock.
She searched for their killer, playing her sniper glass across the most likely route.
Who else stalked governor Aris Hyeon Antiata?
A shadow moved at the corner of her vision. The fourth guard slid bonelessly out of his chair. A flash of silver disappeared as the shadow melted away against the floating domes of the warehouse district.
Not a fellow agent of the Robotics Faction.
Resa adjusted the rifle. Most likely the governor’s greedy cousins had put a price on his head and smuggled in a chameleon-suited human assassin to pull off the execution. Aris belonged to a wealthy, grasping family more likely to stab than pat each other on the back. And the governor was campaigning to cut off Robotics Faction technology. More than one group thought he was crazy; some might hire an agent to do something about it.
If only they knew the truth.
Her aim shifted to the grungy district census office below.
One guard meandered around the dusty golden facade. He paused at the governor’s parked hover car and nodded at the personal guard waiting inside. Both humans eyed the empty street and the gently bobbing domes without seeing the dangers.
On the census bureau dome, curved doors slid open and golden steps descended to the street.
Both guards snapped to attention. The gorgeously bejeweled, heavily armored carriage door opened, and another guard stood at its side.
The governor’s personal security moved down the steps, their infrared oculars sweeping for any invisible threat. They missed the human assassin in the chameleon suit stalking them from above. So, the oculars were compromised.
Something interesting was about to happen.
Office staff emerged next. Obsequious and smiling furiously, they posed stiffly, forming an almost perfect funnel for an assassin.
The entire square seemed to drop silent.
The governor himself emerged and paused at the top step.
Aris Hyeon Antiata.
A light breeze ruffled his indigo-gray hair, shielding his mesmerizing blue eyes. Taut leather clothed his powerful physique with flashing gold threads, and he sparkled against the functional white uniforms of the bureau staff like a peacock amidst mourning doves. Jewels glittered in his powerful boots.
As if in recognition of his great status, he deigned to turn and speak with the lowly staff. He took each hand in turn, addressing them personally and playfully until they blushed. They would remember this day forever. The day the planetary governor visited their office, smiled, and shook their hands. But as soon as he let go of their hands, he had clearly already forgotten them.
She would not be sad to kill him. He deserved to die. Lords who used others as Aris did made her sick.
Except, her robot rebuked her, you are an android and don’t have feelings. So he can’t make you sick.
Sure. Whatever. It was a figure of speech. She felt fine.
She tightened her aim.
He bid the staff farewell and faced out. His smile dropped away like the facade it was. He cast his gaze up, up, up, skimming past her without seeing her. His features sharpened in her perfectly targeted scope. He shaded his eyes.
A frisson of awareness sizzled through her. Was he looking for her?
He had grown paranoid this week since she’d started watching him. It was like he knew she was here, just out of sight, never out of mind.
But she wasn’t a danger to him today. She was just an observer.
A deathly shadow moved across the brightly lit, curved dome behind and above him, getting into position to attack with the silver arc-blade.
Oblivious to the assassin almost within reach, Aris dropped his hand and started down the steps.
She rested her finger on the trigger, calculating angles and odds. The human assassin would slice him in moments, and for now, only Resa was authorized to execute the governor.
She hated to kill anyone—
Except you are an android, her robot reminded her, which means you don’t hate anything. Not even killing. Because you don’t have feelings.
Yes, yes, yes. She had heard those reminders often enough this week. Feelings led to evil, chaos, and death. Like her predecessor, insane zero class Zenya|Sen, who went crazy and got destroyed by her own human feelings.
Resa must not have feelings.
So why save the life of the man she was assigned to kill?
Aris Hyeon Antiata was the only known contact of a notorious techno-criminal. Until she caught the rogue, Resa had to protect Aris with her life. No matter how much he deserved to die.
The shadow sprang.
Resa pulled the trigger.
A ping-thwok-thud sounded behind him.
Aris Hyeon Antiata flinched and spun, his heart in his throat and a scared shriek only barely clamped back by his iron-trembling teeth. Nothing appeared on the steps behind him.
Fuck.
His security ran up the stairs and swept the platform.
The census operations director stopped smiling and stepped out. “What was that?”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t crazy.
“An odd noise.” He forced himself to remain upright, an obvious target from all angles. “Director, do odd noises often happen here?”
“No.” Her boots obscured the government crest of Seven Stars, a furious golden sandstorm marked with the immortal words of the first founders, We help ourselves or nobody does. “Are you afraid of a threat?”
“I fear nothing.”
She stiffened. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Of course not. I meant there is no reason for fear because you didn’t tell anyone I was coming.”
“Er, well, no.”
The director cupped her elbows, realized her body language betrayed her, and reverted to the nervous tight smile she sheltered behind as he audited all her files and found no evidence of the corruption he knew was hiding in them. Somewhere.
“I mean, I’m sure it’s nothing. An odd squeak of a cable securing the dome.” She grimaced at the empty storehouse creaking next to their dome, clearly in need of battening down.
“We certainly didn’t tell anyone you were coming, just like you asked us.”
Just like she hadn’t touched the strangely perfect files.
He turned away to disguise his grinding teeth.
His guards walked the platform, looking off the sides. The census building didn’t mesh with the street; for artistic reasons, it hovered between its tethers to create a “river” of space that flowed all the way down to the planetoid’s surface half a mile below.
Was that a flash beneath the building, clinging to a pipe below? He squinted.
Perhaps it really was nothing. The odd prickling sensation at the back of his neck that he was being watched by more than the sightless inhuman eyes of the recording satellites overhead burned more sensitive than usual.
He was used to being surrounded by people who wanted him dead. Ruling over his family was a son of a bitch. The fear, contempt, and judgment never eased. Most would happily execute him barehanded.
Especially since the promotions next week determined the prosperity of all districts for a decade, and his cousins were going to stuff the candidates with their own pro-Faction people. Darvin would bully Aris for the governor’s seat and eliminate him in any way possible, but clever Poyo was thankfully less interested in ruling atop Aris’s corpse.
What was a little accidental death between family?
Aris used to dream of being assassinated. A few weeks in hospital to be resurrected, followed by recovery on a distant beach where no one knew him or his father, tantalized like a forbidden dream.
But now, that dream had turned to a nightmare.
If he died right now, he ceased to exist. His restore point gone; daily backups, destroyed. He would die. Permanently.
His secret vulnerability was designed to lure out the Robotics Faction. The lady rogue assured him their plan had already worked. A nasty, brutal, terrifying robot watched him. Every move. While he worked, while he slept. Waiting until he made a mistake and contacted the lady rogue on an open network.
He rubbed the tingling back of his neck.
“Sir?” His security second moved to him. “Are you well?”
Aris dropped his hand and wielded his most potent fearless smile. “Just enjoying the scenery.”
The bureau director siding with his cousins smiled. “We invite you to enjoy the scenery any time.”
“I will certainly return the invitation.” Business. He forced his nerves aside and focused on the woman, smiling with his best natural grace. “Your whole office is invited to join me at the governor’s residence this week.”
She touched her throat and colored. Desire conflicted with worry. “So generous. My office will, of course, join you. Thank you for the honor.”
“I expect you as well.” If he couldn’t get incriminating information against his cousins from the files, he would get it from the people. “Treat yourself. You may bring guests.”
“Ah.” Her expression cleared. Resigned, yet still deeply pleased. “Again, thank you.”
“Until then.” He squeezed her fingers, tracing her blush, and then headed down the steps, into the hover car. Behind the thick armor, he allowed himself to relax. All he wanted to do was go home, bury himself behind the reinforced walls of the governor’s mansion, and count the days until this was over. The governorship. The promotions. Painting a target on his back. All of it. “ETA?”
“Forty minutes.” His driver communicated their route over his secure channel to the home team. “Unless you prefer the direct drive.”
He rubbed his temples. “Whatever you recommend.”
“I recommend an unpredictable circuit.” His driver leaned across the seat. “Unless your head of security disagrees?”
Aris’s head of security, Joensen, studied the upper curves of the domes suspiciously. He had been with Aris from almost the beginning and had kept him alive through more questionable incidences than Aris could count. He trusted Joensen with his life.
But not with the truth.
“Joensen?” Aris leaned forward. “See something?”
“No.” Joensen wiped sweat off his wide brow and folded his big frame into the passenger’s seat of the hover car. “Nothing.”
Aris patted the faithful man’s taut shoulder. “Great job, everyone. With the promotions next week, let’s keep our alert level up.”
The lips of his team curved up, accepting his encouragement without letting it distract them.
Joensen wiped his forehead again.
Aris rested his hands on his leather-clad knees to stop from balling them into fists. Reinforced leather woven with anti-gold protected his skin from fire, depressurization, and puncturing trauma. It was the subtlest protective gear he owned.
We help ourselves or nobody does.
He couldn’t die now. The Robotics Faction had to hunt him. Just like it had hunted his half sisters fourteen years ago. This time, he would turn the hunt on the Faction. By the time they realized their mistake, the lady rogue would have saved hundreds, perhaps thousands, more vulnerable lives. All because of him.
Just so long as his family didn’t kill him first and fuck it all up.
The driver finished their location call-in. “Sir?”
He should’ve told the lady rogue to wait six weeks. The promotions would have been over. His family would have given up trying to kill him.
But Aris wasn’t the kind of man to run from a challenge. No matter how wise or calculated.
“Go,” Aris authorized.
The car started forward.
It hovered onto a pressure mine and exploded.
There, Resa thought.
As soon as the governor’s car hovered over the pressure mine, the full extent of the ambush unfurled.
The concealed mine exploded beneath the front half of the governor’s car, knocking out the engine and cracking the body’s seal. The cab smashed into the street, shattering decorative tile and stunning the driver.
Primary target disabled.
In the abandoned storeroom dome next to the census bureau, an auto-turret activated. Bullets sprayed the armored sides and the street, threatening the occupants inside.
Primary target pinned.
From a hidden balcony in a warehouse at the top of the square, noxious vapor canisters toppled over and poured gas into the street.
Primary target soon to be euthanized.
The shocked security team struggled to cover the governor, firing blindly in the general direction of the auto-turret. The head of security erupted from the damaged vehicle, directly into a barrage of hull-piercing fire. Well, that was either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.
She lifted her gun to stop the auto-turret.
Her robot arrested her. Why are you intervening? That man is nothing to us. He is not the target.
Her trigger finger flexed and released, unable to pull. He was not the target, so they might as well save his life.
You might as well save your ammo.
She fought the order.
Auto-turret bolts ripped into his chest, dropping him in a bloody heap.
Damn. She released the trigger with a puffed exhale. Now it was too late.
Yellow gas roiled, a smoldering river hissing down the artfully curving street. The passenger door yawned, car gaping open. The vapors now had clear access into the vehicle to smother the occupants.
The governor crawled into the front seat. Had he noticed the pooling gas?
No. The strutting peacock hugged his dead security chief to his chest. The gas, if he saw it, was only another problem.
Instead of calling out to his team, who couldn’t do anything anyway, he looked up.
Another frisson of awareness tingled through her.
Grief yielded his features to fury. He was looking for her. Beseeching her help.
Not likely, her robot said. If he knows we’re here, he also knows you’re as likely to kill him as to rescue—
She leapt off her hidden balcony.
The dome curved stee
ply. Resa ran along the corniced edge of the building. Each footfall grazed the two-hundred-foot drop. Her mechanical legs pumped like pistons; her robot arms held the rifle in unfailing aim on the peacock governor. She leapt into air.
What are you doing? her robot inquired.
She was casing the street.
Obviously. Why?
Because the Faction didn’t control the planetoid’s satellites yet, and she needed to measure the extent of the ambush to save the governor.
Your predecessor extracted information from dead bodies all the time, her robot complained.
I am not ‘complaining,’ her robot chastised. Don’t assign human emotions to a z-class processor. You’ll learn that when you complete your training.
Zenya’s memories leaned on Resa’s brain like a headache. A dull, constant ache just behind her eyes. Trying to get in. Trying to make her into the new Zenya.
She was not saving the governor because she had an unacceptable interest in him. She was saving him because she hadn’t learned how to extract information from dead bodies.
Resa landed lightly on the neighboring dome and slid, running sideways as she accounted for the gravitational pull of the curvature.
Once you complete the training, you will no longer possess a separate mind. We will operate as one. Your thoughts will be only my orders.
The storage dome floated against its tethering wires, not perfectly coupled to its mooring pikes. If she miscalculated and slipped, she would fall all the way down to the surface of the planetoid, and even her indestructible body might suffer a scratch.
Her robot dropped silent.
Good.
She leapt onto the abandoned dome and double-timed her steps. Her speed accelerated. Her aim did not waver.
Below, the governor rose and brushed his hair out of his face, streaking blood across his forehead.
She landed on the census bureau and slid her hand across the gouge where she had shot the human assassin’s climbers off. The assassin still dangled below the building; his silver knife flashed, helpless. Eventually, he would have to choose whether to fall to his death or to remove the suit and cry for help.
Liberation's Vow (Robotics Faction #3) Page 3