Inanimate (Cyborg Book 3)

by Charity Parkerson

  “I need to know why you did it. Why did you fight so hard for the droid community?”

  Kiston cocked her head to one side and eyed Kyle, making him feel as if she saw too much. “I think you know.”

  “Know what?”

  A low and tired-sounding sigh escaped Kiston. “They’re real,” Kiston said, as if the answer should’ve been obvious.

  “Of course they are,” Kyle said, not really following. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be trapped in Dead-Zone.”

  Kiston snorted. “No, Kyle. They’re real—like you and me. The droids have thoughts and feelings. Souls.”

  At her claim, Kyle sucked in a deep breath. He’d never heard another human say such a thing. He wasn’t crazy.

  Kiston gave him a sad smile before focusing on Dez. “You can go, babe. This one is just like you and me. He came looking for the truth.”

  Dez straightened away from where he leaned against the wall. “Sure thing. Shout if you need me to bring Rep in to prove your point. You know as well as I do, even when people feel it in their hearts, they don’t truly believe it until they see it with their eyes.”

  “Thank you,” Kiston said to Dez as she led Kyle to a nearby couch. “Tell me everything,” she said, settling in beside him.

  Some fucked-up mixture of a laugh and a snort escaped Kyle. “That’s what I was going to say to you. How is this possible? My whole life, I was taught—” Kyle snapped his teeth together to keep from insulting Kiston. All the times he’d hurt Zephyr with his words hadn’t stopped haunting him.

  “You were taught droids were man-made machines who served real men, I’m sure,” Kiston said, filling in the blanks.

  “Not exactly,” Kyle admitted. “But I never believed the A.I. community’s slavery claims until I met Zephyr.”

  Kiston’s gaze sharpened. “So you really have met him? That wasn’t just a claim to get your foot in the door?”

  Kyle swallowed past the pain and held Kiston’s gaze. “We’ve met.” He had to look away. Being this close to someone Zephyr loved was killing Kyle.

  “Oh my god,” Kiston said, sounding blown away. “You and him. I mean… oh my god.”

  “Don’t sound so horrified,” Kyle said dryly.

  “It’s not what you think,” she rushed to assure him. “Zephyr was very much in love with my mother. I’d hoped he’d meet someone new. The thought of him being alone forever has weighed heavily on me.” She covered her mouth with her hands as if hiding her smile. Before Kyle could guess at her intentions, she hugged him. “I’m incredibly happy to meet you, Kyle. Please tell me everything. Is he okay? How does he look? Does he ever talk about me?”

  “He’s good. Maybe a little lonely,” Kyle said, unsure of where the confession originated. It was just something he’d felt in his gut. Kyle was lonely too. That was why they fit. “He looks amazing, obviously,” Kyle added with a blush.

  “He always had killer looks,” Kiston said with a laugh. “And old-world charm,” she added. “People used to trip over themselves to touch him, but he didn’t look at anyone.” Kiston fell silent and her gaze seemed to turn inward. “I miss him every day. For a long time, I didn’t think I could forgive him for what he did, but he’s still my daddy.”

  The backs of Kyle’s eyes burned at the pain in Kiston’s confession. Without thought, the story flooded from Kyle. He told Kiston everything, not skipping a detail other than the sex. He didn’t think she’d want to hear it, and—no doubt—Zephyr would die if Kyle told all that to the man’s daughter. But he told her about the botched kidnapping and Zephyr taking him to Cryo. Her eyes flashed at that detail and she scanned his body once more. Kyle didn’t slow until he reached the part of how he’d ended up here.

  “I know it’s my fault,” he said, claiming the blame as his. “In my heart, I know he felt me. For some dumbass reason, I still couldn’t stop pushing for more details. There’s this part of me that has to know why he can feel me.” Kyle shook his head and met Kiston’s stare. “If I could’ve just accepted things as they were, maybe I wouldn’t be back here. Maybe he wouldn’t have pushed me away.”

  “It’s not you,” Kiston said, sounding so sure it almost hurt him to hear it. “I know for a fact droids can feel and I know why. Yet I’m sitting right here beside you. Zephyr loves too hard. He’d rather be alone than have anyone suffer beside him. To understand how droids like Zephyr and Rep came to be—”

  “Rep is a droid? I never would’ve guessed,” Kyle said, interrupting. The way the man’s eyes had danced with laughter at Sim’s expense earlier wasn’t the type of behavior he’d come to expect from a droid.

  Kiston nodded. “As I was saying,” she said, getting back on track. “To understand what happened, you have to understand corporate greed. I mean the no-low-is-too-low bottom of the barrel scum—greed,” she said, emphasizing the word. “There was so much money in the production of the perfect helper bot, no one involved cared what had to be done to achieve consumer heaven. The military already had the farms of terror—where they grew children from a test tube to adolescents and then blew them up for testing.”

  Kyle’s stomach churned. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  Kiston shook her head. “They needed to hone the perfect human replacement parts for injured soldiers. So it started with the children. Once they had the technology in place and learned how to grow real organs and use nano infusion to make them work to perfection, it was really only a few steps away from cramming a human into a diamond-infused layer of synthetic skin, fitting it with computerization, and calling it a robot.”

  Horror clawed at Kyle’s insides. What Kiston suggested was unthinkable. It was inhuman. “Wouldn’t that make droids like Zephyr cyborgs rather than droids?”

  “I guess it depends on who you ask,” Kiston said with a shrug. “And who stands to profit,” she added.

  “But that’s slave trade,” Kyle said, hearing the horror in his voice and incapable of stopping it.

  Kiston nodded. “Exactly, and now you understand why we’re here and they’re there. They are the big corporate cover-up.”

  Kyle couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He believed. He just couldn’t swallow how deep the cesspool ran. “Greed is one thing, but you’re talking about… I don’t even know. Evil, I guess.”

  A sad smile touched Kiston’s lips. “With enough zeros behind a dollar sign, evil becomes semantics. Cybernetics verses Automatics becomes a matter of contested percentages. Scientists have held strictly to a sixty to seventy-five percentage ratio. A person with below sixty percent computerization—surgical repair. Anywhere between those numbers—cyborg. Above seventy-five—android. Unless you line a few pockets, then maybe a sixty-nine percenter gets a barcode stamped on them. Who’s to argue different?”

  “You did.”

  “Not hard enough, I don’t think,” Kiston said, her voice sounding distant.

  Kyle thought about her life—what it must’ve been like. “The burden of knowing, I don’t know how you carried it. All these years later, when there’s nothing left to be done, I still want to strike out. I can’t imagine the helpless rage you experienced.” He turned inward. “The silent suffering Zephyr must’ve experienced.” A piece of familiar metal, sitting on the side table, caught Kyle’s attention. He picked it up. “Hey, Zephyr has one just like this. I can’t tell you how many times I caught him carrying it around. Every time I asked him what it did, he would set it aside and say, ‘nothing anymore.’”

  At Kiston’s silence, Kyle glanced over. A steady stream of tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried wiping them away without luck. Kiston sniffed and cleared her throat. When she spoke, she sounded hoarse. “Um, it’s a private transponder connection. Zephyr perfected it. If you touch it to your lips and speak, it’ll carry your voice across a private connection and Zephyr will hear you. It’s how we used to keep in touch before the droid revolt. I carry it around with me still, but it stays silent.” Kiston’s gaze moved from staring at the device in
Kyle’s hand to his face. “You should take it.”

  Despite the shot of hope punching him in the chest, Kyle couldn’t take something from Kiston that was obviously precious to her. “I can’t. You both carry these things with you, holding on to a connection to each other. Maybe neither you wants to be the first to reach out to the other, but I can’t steal your chance to change your mind someday.”

  Kiston closed Kyle’s fingers around the transponder. “Then stay here a while and borrow it while you’re here. It’s been hard on me, picturing him alone.” Kiston smiled. “You give me hope that maybe he won’t choose to stay that way forever.”

  Kyle dropped his gaze to his lap. “Well, he did dump me here and disappear.” Damn, the temptation to massage away the pain in his chest was real. It hurt, knowing Zephyr could walk away when Kyle couldn’t let him go.

  Kiston tapped on the transponder. “So stay and make him tell you why.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Kyle’s mouth. “What are your cyborg friends going to think about that?”

  “We could always tell them I’ve asked you to stay so I can study the filtration system Zephyr implanted inside your lungs,” Kiston offered.

  Kyle stopped breathing. “What?”

  For a moment, Kiston studied his face, as if assessing his reaction. “You didn’t know?”

  A shake of his head was all the reaction Kyle could drum up.

  Kiston nodded. “Your system was scanned the moment my husband set eyes on you. You have a filtration system in your lungs. It’s a fairly new insertion, judging by the scar tissue. The technology is too advanced to be a human invention, especially since it wasn’t done here at Cybernetics central and medical care is a bit shoddy nowadays. I’m guessing Zephyr invented a way for select humans to live inside Cryo-Zone. Congratulations. You’re one of those humans.”

  “I never suspected,” Kyle admitted through numb lips. “He said the house was filtered, but I couldn’t step outside.” An unexpected bark of laughter escaped Kyle. “I was a prisoner with no bars.”

  Kiston smiled. “Except you didn’t want to leave,” she reminded him.

  He couldn’t argue. “There’s that.”

  “Come on,” Kiston said, coming to her feet. “Let’s find you a room. You can relax and mentally prepare to meet the whole crew here. No one bites upon first meeting, that I’ve seen,” she tacked on, making Kyle wonder if she was joking.

  Kyle didn’t bother looking right or left as they made their way through a side door and down a different hallway from the first. The place was a huge underground compound. Maybe later he’d dredge up a bit of curiosity over the place. Right now, all Kyle could concentrate on was the communication device in his hand. There was a real chance he was only a few spoken words away from Zephyr. He hoped he didn’t throw up.

  Kiston waved him inside a bedroom that was nicer than any place he’d ever stayed. There was a huge bed that looked soft and a private bathroom. The bunker where he’d lived a majority of his life had never been private in any way. Kyle couldn’t stop staring at all the shiny surfaces. The hole in his chest grew by the minute. Zephyr had given him a way to survive inside Cryo. He could leave here now and go there. No one would stop him. No one would know. He could just… go.

  “We usually have dinner around six,” Kiston said, pulling him from his musings. “That gives you about an hour to yourself. You know, in case there’s a call you want to make.” She flashed him a smile. “Anyhow, when you’re ready to join us, just take a left and follow the hall all the way down until you reach a huge room with several doorways. You’ll spot the dining room from there.”

  Kyle nodded. “Thank you. For everything,” he added. “I didn’t know what to expect when I came here. I just knew I needed to come.”

  Without warning, Kiston hugged him. She seemed to like doing that. Kyle patted her back awkwardly. “Thank you too,” she whispered, sounding like she might cry again. “You’ve been an unexpected gift.” With that hanging between them, Kiston rushed from the room, as if she feared embarrassing herself. Kyle felt her pain. He’d been barely holding his shit together since he’d awoken back inside the Dead-Zone.

  Kyle moved to the bed and sat. His ass sank. The bed was way softer than anything he’d ever felt. For a full ten minutes, Kyle stared at the transponder in his hand. Zephyr was on the other side. Before he could change his mind, Kyle touched the transponder to his lips, feeling like an idiot and unsure of where to start. He didn’t know if Zephyr would even hear him. Zephyr might be anywhere while his transponder sat abandoned. This was all Kyle had of Zephyr, so he took a chance, and spoke.

  “I think I get why you wanted me back here. You hoped I’d change minds because you changed mine. The thing is—I hate these people I’ve known all my life.” A small chuckle escaped Kyle. He never thought he’d admit that. “They’re small-minded. No one here in this iced over wasteland will ever change. God, was I really like them once?” Kyle cleared his throat, feeling lonelier and more ridiculous by the minute. “I don’t think I belong here. Fuck you for giving me your friendship and taking it away,” Kyle said, tossing the transponder aside. He hadn’t meant to lose his temper, but goddamn. It had been beyond cruel for Zephyr to show him a life of kindness when Kyle wasn’t meant to keep it. He’d been an idiot for tracking Kiston down. Kyle hurt even worse now. He may as well join the cyborgs for dinner. It wasn’t as if they could destroy him any worse than Zephyr had already.

  The dining room was every bit as easy to find as Kiston described. Several people were already seated around a large table by the time Kyle arrived. Every head turned his way, and all conversation died as Kyle entered the room. He’d met four people at the table. There were four more he’d never seen.

  “Hello,” Kyle said, sounding as awkward as he felt. “I’m Kyle.”

  A tall man with dark hair stood and crossed the room with his hand extended. “Hi, Kyle. I’m Miles.” Miles looked more like a droid than any droid Kyle had ever met. His eyes glowed golden, and even though he sounded welcoming, his face remained expressionless. The moment their hands met, Kyle knew Miles was a cyborg and not a droid. The knowledge fascinated him, making it hard for Kyle to look away from the man’s face. Miles released his hand after a quick shake and motioned toward the table. “Please join us. Most of us don’t eat, but we like to keep company with those who do. You’ve met Kiston, Rep, Dez, and Sim. The rest are mine,” Miles said, smiling for the first time. He took a seat next to a woman with strawberry-blonde curls and draped his arm across the back of her chair. “This is my wife, Alexia.”

  Kyle nodded her way as he sat across from them. “Nice to meet you.”

  She smiled.

  Miles motioned to the two men on his left. “These are our sons, Nyx and Tyr.”

  Kyle smiled at the pair. Both were the mirror image of their father, except one had blue eyes while the other had his mother’s light-green eyes. Nyx—the blue-eyed son—appeared close to twenty years in age while Tyr looked closer to fifteen. Considering Alexia didn’t look a day over twenty-five, Kyle assumed she was also part cyborg.

  “It’s nice to meet all of you,” Kyle said, trying hard to quell his discomfort. He’d never done well meeting new people. Alexia’s warm smile helped. She was the first to speak.

  “Kiston tells us Zephyr sent you our way. I’m curious to hear how you know him. It was my understanding that Zephyr hates humans.”

  Against his will, the moment Zephyr’s name was mentioned, a smile tugged at his lips. “That’s not true. He just likes being left alone.”

  Tyr snorted. “Destroyed half the world to get some alone time.”

  Alexia shushed him. “Teenage angst,” she said with an apologetic smile. “What can you do? So, how did you meet Zephyr?”

  Kyle’s gaze slid Kiston’s way. The small smile hovering on her lips piqued his curiosity and caused some form of fuck-it-all to rise inside him. “Actually, he kidnapped me.”

  Sim relea
sed a bark of laughter that startled Kyle. “It’s nice to hear the droids are clubbing people over the heads like cavemen these days.”

  Kiston elbowed him. “If you remember, you stole me from the street.”

  Sim rubbed his ribs even though Kyle was certain Kiston hadn’t done any real damage. “I said it was nice. In fact, I think the caveman method is the way to go. You don’t have to buy anyone flowers.”

  Zephyr had bought him flowers. Kyle’s throat swelled at the memory. Instead of giving another piece of his relationship with Zephyr away to strangers, Kyle offered a different tidbit. “Zephyr didn’t club me over the head. He punctured my lung.”

  Sim winced. “Are you sure you’re not part cyborg? I wasn’t being literal.”

  Food appeared in front of him and Kyle focused on his plate—grateful to have something else to look at. He didn’t know how to interact with people. At the coalition bunker, he’d been a leader. No one made small talk. The only place where he’d ever fit in was with Zephyr.

  Kyle picked up his fork. “Thank you for dinner.” Despite his best efforts, his dejection showed in his tone. Rep bumped his knee under the table, drawing Kyle’s gaze his way. There was so much understanding in the man’s gaze that Kyle fought the urge to look away.

  Rep’s bright tone didn’t match his expression. “Want to hear the story of us meeting Kiston? We had to gag her and everything.”

  A loud groan sounded from Kiston’s end of the table while everyone else laughed. Without waiting for Kyle’s answer, Rep fell into a tale of three grown men slash cyborgs getting their asses handed to them by a tiny woman with zero computerization. Kyle’s discomfort ebbed as he listened. He just wished this trip hadn’t made Zephyr feel farther away than ever before.

  Zephyr stared at the small metal link to Kyle. His voice had stopped. Zephyr wanted to shake the tiny box of wires and computer chips and force Kyle’s voice to reappear. Kyle had found Zephyr’s grand lady. Did she still live or had someone else passed the transponder on to Kyle? It was possible Kyle had seen Zephyr’s daughter. They’d been in the same room—shared oxygen. Pain hit Zephyr’s system, shaking his core. He’d loved a grand total of three people in all his years of existence. One was dead. The second one hated him, and the third was his final broken vow to the first. What a life he’d lived.