by Elsa Jade
He frowned at her thoughtfully. “Why?”
She sputtered. “Look at me.” She swept one hand across her nerdy brown bod. “Everybody will know we’re strangers.”
His silver-blue gaze—very definitely alien—traced the path that her hand had indicated, and she swore her nerve endings along the way lit like the titanium on the end of a Fourth of July sparkler. Totally wrong time of year, she yelled at herself, not to mention the totally wrong guy.
Unless he was like a Diwali sparkler. The Hindu festival of lights always happened in the waning months of the year to celebrate the power of light over darkness, so she wasn’t that far off…
No! What was she thinking? He wasn’t even a guy. He was an actual alien, a cyborg. Which, now that she admitted it, was really not all that much more weird than her usual guys.
His gaze snapped back to hers. “You told me you were a ‘sneak in through the back door and rifle through your belongings but you’ll never notice’ kind of girl.”
Curse the eidetic memory of robots. “Electronically, digitally, remotely,” she specified. “Not in real life.”
He shrugged, although she wasn’t quite sure if he was settling his coat or dismissing her concerns. “Aren’t we’re trying to be better?” he murmured, flashing her another one of those disarming smiles.
Disarming to her, maybe. But he was the one who’d noted that he was a walking weapon.
To her relief, Delta shook his head. “No, we brought her here for a specific task. To unlock our code, not track the Theta. This is not her mission.”
Cosmo stared past him, his heavy, blunt features settled into the impassive lines that she’d first seen on him. “You’re right,” he said. “We should not expend valuable members of the Earther matrix on what may be a pointless errand.”
Although his expression revealed nothing, there was a note in his voice that resonated bitterly within her. When he’d said valuable… Yeah, she knew what it meant to run the calculations in her own head of what she was worth to the people in her life—and it had never been enough. And Cosmo probably knew even better than she how much he would fetch on the transgalactic market. He’d told her that Omegas were only used for a failed mission, as the devastating last step where everyone just threw up their hands and agreed to an apocalypse.
And they didn’t even build his position from scratch; they just repurposed an abandoned being—a child—to be their walking time bomb. And for the hundred and fifty years since the crash landing, he lurked on the outskirts of his brothers’ ranch, since he couldn’t “pass” as a cowboy, or even a human, really. And apparently Mach and Delta hadn’t done anything to try to convince him otherwise.
The spurt of anger on his behalf was unfair, she knew. The other shrouds understood him better than she could, even after she finished her scans. And yet somehow she found herself saying, “Let me get my jacket.”
“This isn’t why we hired you,” Delta said.
“You hired me to save the shrouds—all of them—from your imposed programming. It would help me to have another example of unkeyed source code straight from a main module of the matrix, rather than the very end. Especially since Cosmo says he’s not even sure he can imprint. Because, really, why would he be made to connect like that when an Omega would only be activated when everything is fubar and the last remaining executable instruction is ‘blow it all to hell’?”
Cosmo glanced at her and then turned away to open the door and slip outside. But in that moment she caught a flash in his eyes. Not the silver of the nanites, but something darker—pain at her dismissal.
Shit, she hadn’t meant it like that. “Blowing things all to hell is important too,” she hastened to add loudly.
The cold swirl of wind coming through the empty doorway was her only answer.
Delta quirked one eyebrow at her. “Are you sure you want to…?” When she just nodded, he shrugged. “Cross has a house in town and a family ranch that I’ve heard he rarely visits. None of it nice enough for a French cuffed friend.” He shrugged. “Are you really sure?”
At the sound of a truck revving, she gasped, “Stall him,” and bolted down the hall toward her office.
“Kind of hard to stall an apocalypse,” Delta hollered back.
As she grabbed her puffy jacket from her office, she noted her scan was still running across all the screens. Ooh, look at that… The electronic siren call was a reminder that this was where she was supposed to be, hunkering down in her chair, with her headphones on, blocking out the world.
But it would still be there when she returned.
She raced back for the front door, winging her coat around her. She sped toward Delta who had one shoulder propped in the doorway. “Try to keep him from exploding.”
“Is that an actual option?”
“Well, it’s been a hundred and fifty years, and he hasn’t done it yet, so maybe he’s over it.” Delta tilted his head thoughtfully. “Or maybe he’s overdue.”
She didn’t have time to laugh, although she didn’t think Delta meant it as a joke. The two-door Ford truck still lingered in the yard, but she imagined the exhaust curling from the tailpipe was a physical manifestation of Cosmo’s annoyance.
No, worse than that. She’d hurt him.
She flung open the passenger door. “Thanks for waiting.”
“I was the one who asked you to come,” he reminded her as he spun the wheel toward the road.
“Yeah, but I thought maybe I…pissed you off saying we needed the Theta.”
“Why would I be pissed off by something that is true?”
She squinted one eye. “Happens all the time.”
“Not to Omegas.”
The truck jumped forward, jolting her back in her seat, and she suddenly wondered… “You mentioned walking, not riding a horse.”
“I’ve seen the Alpha and the Delta command various Earther vehicles. None of which are as complicated as the controls for the space-faring vessels that are contained in my archives.”
She groaned. “So you’ve never driven before.”
He sidelonged a glance at her. “I just said that.” Returning his attention to the snow-packed gravel road, he muttered, “Obviously the Theta doesn’t drive either.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t think the Theta is better than you.” No sense being subtle; that obviously wasn’t an Omega’s forte. And it was kind of…nice to not have to wonder what he was thinking. “I’ll take the extra source code, but that doesn’t mean he’s better.” If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up discussing moral relativism with a being who’d been bought, enslaved, cut up, and programmed to destroy himself for another’s gain—he didn’t need to hear philosophy about better and worse and who decided.
“All Thetas are better than Omegas,” Cosmo said. “In the same way that the Earther alphanumeric system that is the closest translation to our designation makes the Alpha the best.”
“No. The letter A is the first letter of this particular alphabet, and we use it to designate a person who goes first, a leader, like Mach. But it’s not best. Every letter has its own place, its own purpose.”
“A is for apple. D is for donut. But what is O for besides a big zero?”
“The big O…” She choked, a silly heat flushing through her body even though the truck cab hadn’t warmed up yet. The only thing worse than explaining morality to a killer robot was explaining what a big O was to an Earther female. “Shouldn’t we concentrate on catching up to them?”
“No. I will face the Theta without Cross there. We exhausted our ability to wipe memories the last time we fought him, and I’m not supposed to kill him if another other option presents itself.” He stared down at the wheel. “Also, I need a minute to master these simplistic controls. Space-faring ships do not have to compensate for snow.”
Despite the complaint, he handled the rough road easily, and before long they’d hit the mostly paved road toward town.
“What’s it like?�
� she asked. “Space-faring.”
“I was conscious for approximately three Earther minutes from the time our ship triggered the structural integrity alarm until it disintegrated across Montana. For most of those minutes, my stasis field was in flux, having sustained damage. So I couldn’t move, just watch as the ship burned.” He fell silent for a moment. “That wasn’t really space-faring, though, since we’d already entered atmosphere. I was trapped in the malfunctioning stasis unit until the Alpha released me. The recovered memories of my time on the asteroid miner are mostly of the crèche and its guardian.”
“I can’t even imagine,” she murmured.
“Once you’ve compiled your scan of my systems, you can play it back on command.”
She shivered. “No. I’ll wait.”
“Wait for what?” He reached over and cranked up the heat.
Had he noticed her shiver? Or maybe he was feeling the cold too after remembering that moment. “I just meant I’ll wait to experience space until I can do it for myself.”
For another long moment, he focused on the road, gradually increasing speed. “Most Earthers don’t go to space.”
“If I hack your code, I’ll be able to show the transgalactic authorities I have the skills for off-planet travel.”
“Where do you want to go?”
She shrugged. “Away. When I was working for the Intergalactic Dating Agency, I designed the interfacing for a lot of different planets. Maybe I’ll end up on one of those.”
“Why do you think one of those other planets will be better?”
She blinked at him. “I don’t think that. Necessarily.”
“Then why leave Earth?”
He had the truck going faster than she thought was smart. Of course, he had enhanced strength and reflexes—and healing capabilities. So what did he care?
Maybe she was feeling a little reckless too. Otherwise, why would she have joined him on this mission? “If I’m going to not belong somewhere, then I’d like to really not belong there.” She pursed her lips. “Does that sound weird to you when I say it aloud?”
“Unlike most of the matrix, Omegas aren’t installed with a universal translator. So I’m not sure what weird sounds like.”
She frowned at him. All the IDA clients and employees had a translator, even her. The tiny implant allowed input and output in the languages selected by its location services. The gestural languages were tricky, especially if the appendages were too different. And some languages, like the ones with olfactory and chromatophoric components, needed multiple adaptors—including a smell-o-vision suit. But local planetary management in general and the Intergalactic Dating Agency in particular were strict about making ET visitors and clients more or less compatible with life on Earth.
Even Cosmos—as big and scary and unsubtle as he was—walked upright, had a reasonable number of limbs set in an overall symmetrical manner, and hadn’t even exploded yet. And actually, his features were kind of interesting, in their own way—rougher than Earther standard, maybe, but kind of like Montana was rougher than other places.
But of course an Omega wouldn’t need to interact with others, much less understand them, not when his only purpose was to destroy.
“How did you learn to speak English?”
“In our earliest days here, the Alpha told others I didn’t understand because I wasn’t from around here. That was true.” He gave her that speedy grin, too quickly gone. “Later, when it became clear that I couldn’t camouflage myself well enough, it was decided that I would keep out of sight. Once Earther technology improved, I was able to borrow”—he gave her another flash of teeth, more mocking this time—“the data I required to upgrade my own archives and speak with others.”
She started to do the math of how many years he hadn’t been able to speak, but stopped herself. What he’d overcome had been impressive, however long it had been.
“I downloaded some classes on Indian languages,” she said, “but there are twenty-two recognized languages, one hundred and twenty-plus major languages, another six classical ones, and about a thousand other dialects.” She sighed. “And I don’t speak any of them. I listened to them all, though, hoping something would sound…right.”
“Nothing?” His deep, river rock voice, smooth but hard, was as soft as she’d ever heard it.
“Not a word. Luckily, code is universal, once I crack it.” She tried to imitate one of his quicksilver smirks. It sort of worked.
Or maybe it was just another sort of camouflage.
When they got to the feed store, self-storage units, and sketchy-looking gas station/garage that marked the start of the main drag through Diamond Valley Depot, she glanced at Cosmo. “How are we going to find the Theta?”
“While Tanner Cross was unconscious from the memory wipe after he staged his assault on the Fallen A, the Alpha slipped a tracker into his belt buckle.”
She coughed out a real laugh. “Not his truck?”
“He might leave his truck behind, but the buckle was his grandfather’s and is a symbol of his superior designation in this town.”
She blinked at him. “Hey, that’s a pretty keen observation of Earther psychology.”
“The Alpha told me,” Cosmo said. “I thought the buckle needed to be that big to keep his pants up.”
She laughed again. “I suppose it can be both.”
He shook his head. “Morphing things are confusing. Much simpler to be like me.”
Her amusement faded as she studied him. “Cosmo, I’m starting to think you’re not simple at all.”
And for someone whose only job was unraveling him, that really wasn’t what she wanted to find out.
Chapter 5
Cosmo could count on one hand—minus at least one digit—the number of times he’d been to town. At least being behind the wheel of the truck took the edge off his wariness. As they motored down Main Street, he had the advantage of height, weight, and speed. Maybe he understood Tanner Cross’s artificially bolstered sense of superiority a little better now.
Placing one hand on the windshield, with a focused pulse, he sent a microscopic flood of nanites across the surface. Like a bruise, the glass darkened.
Vic gasped. “How’d you do that?” He was mildly surprised when she touched the windshield, her dark eyes bright with interest, not at all alarmed. “Your nanites. Won’t they deactivate now that they’re removed from you? Aren’t you weakened without them?”
“I’m close enough to maintain energy transfer with them for awhile. And I can call them back when we’re done. Even if I left them, as long as I can take in enough carbon, my nanite load regenerates faster than other shrouds.”
She bit at her lip. “Because you’re an Omega. And the nanites are part of your final weapon.”
He glanced at her, trying to understand her expression. Still not fear, he thought. He queried the recent additions to his onboard archive. Something softer?
Sadness, maybe. For him?
Unsure what to do with that knowledge, he ignored it. “For now, no one can see us.”
Despite his limited experiences in town, he decided this was the worst time. The tall, arching light posts lining the main road were wrapped in alternating stripes of white and red—the colors of a winter slaughter on Earth. (It looks like a candy cane lane! whispered a voice from the “bad Christmas movies” folder in his archive.) Tatters of greenery were strewn across the storefronts, as if a monstrous gale had blown through, decimating the pine trees. (Oh, Christmas tree, how lovely are your branches! cooed the voice.) In the town square, a dozen children stood around a tinsel-draped pen where a handful of goats wearing fuzzy green pants and golden bells around their neck plus large red spheres over their noses bleated demandingly for treats. (The voice shrieked, It’s a herd of tiny Rudolph elves!)
Obviously the “bad Christmas movie” folder was fatally corrupted and he should delete it.
He glanced at Vic. “Why do you wear the decapitated effigy of an imaginary h
oliday ungulate on your head?”
She swiveled to stare at him. “What?”
He flicked his gaze upward.
“Oh. The hat?” She reached up.
“Don’t touch the nose.”
She wrinkled hers at him. “You don’t like the song?”
Consulting the archive again, he said, “The nose isn’t shiny. It’s more…shrieky.” He listened to the internal voice another moment. “What names did they call you?”
She started to say “wha…” but stopped herself abruptly. “I don’t think of myself as Rudolph.”
“So they didn’t laugh and call you names.”
Glaring at him, she grumbled, “That didn’t make me want to decapitate them. Hardly. Much.”
“I am Omega. Cosmo. Marvel,” he told her. “Who do you want to be?”
“I’m not sure—”
“A dentist?”
“What? No. Why would you think—”
“Are you a misfit toy?”
She tucked her chin back. “Wait a second. Are you watching my vintage Christmas movies? Did you see the stop-motion animation Rudolph?”
“On your tablet, they were labeled as ‘bad Christmas movies’.” He ran his hands down the sides of the steering wheel, feeling his way. “Why would you want to keep something bad?”
“Sometimes bad means really, really good.”
He slanted a glance at her. “Does that sound weird to me when you say it aloud?”
Even though he’d just said her own words back to her, she laughed. “Okay, yeah. It’s weird. I guess I do relate to an elf wanting to be a dentist and a reindeer wanting to fly.”
“A broken toy just wanting to be loved,” he finished, reciting from the movie plot synopsis.
She sat back in her seat. “Not broken,” she said after a moment. “Just…not like the others, and misunderstood.”
He wasn’t sure that distinction mattered.
When his proximity alarm pinged, he steered the truck down a side street. “One of the reasons the Alpha settled us in Diamond Valley is the isolation and the peculiarities of the mineral composition that help to obscure our presence, but sometimes it interferes with our systems as well because we were never activated. In town, we can hijack some of the local signals for our own use, which is how I’m tracking Cross. But the Theta will have the same advantage.”