by Lisa Lace
It felt more like destiny.
She didn’t know how Wrath could be Robert. It seemed like an impossible coincidence. But everything inside her was shouting that it was the truth. She had known the cyborg before the government had ever touched him and changed him into a machine. She knew that he could be sweet and caring, and something other than a mindless soldier.
His question rang in her ears. Of course he didn’t know he was Robert. How could he? Rachel had done a little bit of her homework at least, and she had heard most of what she knew repeated in Clayton’s words. When the chip rewired the brain, it bypassed the human part of the donor body. It blocked out the memories of life as a human. Scientists believed that if the cyborgs maintained their awareness of their previous lives, it would drive them insane or create a conflict with their orders.
What would happen to him if she intentionally tried to evoke his memories?
“What did you call me?” The cyborg had stopped shouting and was whispering now. Somehow the quiet tone of voice felt more menacing than the yelling.
In the silence, Rachel could hear her breath moving in and out of her lungs. “I called you by your name. Robert. Your name is Robert, or it was once, at least. I knew you when you were different.”
The blonde cyborg had lost interest in Clayton and angrily stomped in her direction. His plasma gun was still ready to fire. He kept it aimed at her. The cyborg looked huge as he loomed over her. Rachel didn’t dare stand up. She had upset him enough already.
“My name is Wrath,” he declared boldly. “I have never had another name. Cyborg Sector gave me a ridiculous designation of letters and numbers, something more fitting for a file cabinet than a living creature.” He gestured at the front of his uniform where a bare strip of Velcro was visible on his chest. It had small bits of plant debris and sand stuck in it, but there was no name tag. “I named myself. I don’t need you or the government to tell me who I am.”
The reporter shook her head. “I understand that you are Wrath now. But you were Robert a long time ago. Before you were a cyborg and a soldier, you were something else. Don’t you remember me?”
Wrath shook his head furiously, but Rachel detected a slight hesitation. Maybe part of him was trying to decide if she was telling the truth. “How could I possibly remember you? The first time I saw you was when you came up this mountain. I have no information about you in my memory banks.”
“You’re wrong,” she insisted. Rachel could see that he was starting to become agitated, but she felt going all the way to the end of her train of thought was her only hope for survival. Maybe if Wrath could remember who he used to be and what they had meant to each other, he would let her live. She might even save Clayton’s life in the process.
“I think your computer doesn’t store all your memories. We grew up together. We knew each other since we were young. You were human once. I know you have to recognize me somehow.” Her sentences weren’t coming out correctly. If she were onscreen at the moment, the other members of the media would be blasting her left and right for her poor command of the English language. But Rachel’s life was on the line now, and she didn’t want to worry about sounding perfect for a non-existent camera.
“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll shoot you right now!” Wrath held his hand out toward her. His fingertips were flipped down, revealing the shiny end of his plasma gun. “I’ve tolerated all the bullshit about Cyborg Sector and what they want from us. First, he says I used to be human, and now you try to tell me that you knew me when I was human.” He reached out with his left hand, the one that didn’t have a weapon inside it, and put it around her neck. “I had no idea that humans were so eager to make cyborgs just like them.”
“I just want you to understand,” Rachel squeaked. She knew now that Wrath was going to kill her. There was nothing she could do to stop him. Her hope now was getting him to listen before he decapitated her. “Cyborgs are made from the bodies of men who died. You were one of them.”
He made her stand on her toes by pushing up on her throat until they were face-to-face. She felt his hot breath on her skin and smelled his earthy scent. Rachel’s eyes roved over every pore of his skin, every fleck of color in his eyes, and every hair in his goatee.
“Prove it.”
The reporter closed her eyes. She wanted to remember correctly, but the cyborg’s hand was slowly closing off her air supply. “When we were in second grade, we went on a field trip to a farm,” she managed to choke out. “You slipped in a puddle and got covered in mud. You had to ride back to school dirty.” It wasn’t the best memory, but it was the oldest one she had. She knew it was the kind of thing she would never be able to forget if it had happened to her.
The soldier lowered Rachel to the ground but raised his plasma gun and pushed the tip into her skin. It made a small indentation in Rachel’s neck. She squeezed her eyelids together as she waited for death to come.
“I think you have me confused with someone else.” His voice had dropped to a whisper now but still carried a threatening edge.
“In sixth grade, you slipped on the ice outside the school and hit your head. You had a concussion. For our eighth grade graduation, we all wore yellow robes. It was the school color. Everyone made fun of me when I had my hair cut and the stylist made it too short. Allison and Jessica were my best friends.” Random pieces and snippets of her childhood were coming to mind, all of them out of order. She had to find something that would trigger his memory, but she didn’t know what it could be or if it were even possible. Rachel wanted Wrath to know that he had been a child and that he used to have friends.
“We all took driver’s education with Mr. Dwyer, and he would play air guitar in the passenger seat. Mrs. Vinson was our principal.” She was beginning to grasp at straws. The memories were so remote that they would be difficult for anyone to recall.
Rachel had been holding back on one particular memory. It was all she had left in her arsenal. If it failed to get a reaction from him, she wouldn’t have anything remaining. She opened her eyes.
“You and I used to date. You saved me from getting hit by a truck, and you walked me home. You had on your football jersey. Your number was seventeen. I can still see it when I close my eyes. I know because you always let me wear it to school on game days. We went to the homecoming dance together, and you bought me a daisy corsage even though it didn’t match my dress. I told you it was my favorite flower.”
The tip of the gun came off her neck a fraction of an inch. If it weren’t for the pressure of the hand around her throat, Rachel could have convinced herself that she was here with Robert and not Wrath. He still held his mouth in a firm line, but there was a slight change in the way he looked at her. She had to continue.
“When my dog died, I stayed home from school, and you came to my door with chocolate ice cream and the new book I wanted. You held me while I cried, and you didn’t mind that I got tears all over your favorite shirt.” She was starting to cry at the memory, wanting to have that version of Robert back. “We made love in your room, and then we fell asleep. You thought your parents would catch us, and you forced me to hide in the closet when they pulled up in the driveway. But they went straight to bed. We stayed up until two in the morning while you read poetry to me.” Her tears ran down her cheeks and dripped onto his hand.
The cyborg released her in an instant, shaking his hand as though her tears were poison. Rachel fell to the ground. She wasn’t prepared for Wrath to release her and the back of her head collided with the cave wall, making her vision blur for a moment. She looked up at the cyborg to see him clutching his head with his left hand.
Weapon kept his eyes on Rachel, but he spoke to Wrath when he saw his pain. “What did she do to you? Should I kill her now?”
“Aaagh!” Wrath gritted his teeth as he moaned, staggering backward across the cave. Clayton danced out of his way, nearly running into Wire and jumping away from him again. Wrath bellowed with pain, bending over at the waist.
“No,” he said finally. “She’s trying to trick me, but she won’t win. I will take care of her in my own time.”
Rachel sobbed at Wrath’s reaction. He didn’t recall her, and he didn’t want to remember her. The time she had spent with him when they were younger was meaningless now. She had lost her chance.
Chapter Eleven
The pain in Wrath’s body increased in intensity. It had started as a mild throbbing behind his biochip, but the more he listened to the girl the worse it became. Rays of agony swept through his brain. He’d had injuries before, but they had never felt like this. Something felt different about the girl. What was she doing to him and why did it hurt so much? Why did it have to happen now and make him look weak in front of the humans?
He finally regained his voice when the waves of torment slowly began to subside. “You’re trying to trick me. Nothing you say is true.” Wrath had to deny her words to keep himself from going berserk. He couldn’t possibly admit that her words had penetrated his mind, hammering at his brain and demanding acknowledgment.
Everything she said had to be a lie, but he didn’t know a way to prove it. The stories of the two humans matched, making it even harder to disbelieve.
A howl of frustration escaped his lips. Wrath beat his fists against a wooden table. The cyborg could barely feel the pain of the splintering wood against his skin. He didn’t know if she was right or not. He smashed the table repeatedly and heard the crackle of the boards as they began to split. The sharp points stabbed into his hands, but he wouldn’t stop the destruction. He wanted more. The self-inflicted pain was real and undeniable. It did not require knowledge, decisions, or understanding.
Wrath was breathing heavily now. He was spent physically from charging the plasma gun without using it and challenged emotionally by the female. Without hesitation, Wrath grabbed the wooden chair and raised it over his head. It shattered to pieces as he smashed it against the cave floor, sending parts of the seat flying throughout the room. Pieces of debris bounced off Weapon’s arm, but the cyborg didn’t flinch. Several others clattered against the stone wall and scattered across the ground.
Rachel cringed, covering her face with her hands and cowering against the wall. Wrath instantly regretted his rash actions but didn’t know why. Didn’t the woman deserve to be scared after everything she had done to him since her arrival?
“Explain to me why you’re wearing Cyborg Sector clothing if you are nothing more than an innocent reporter. You want me to believe you but offer no evidence. The sight of the insignia on your chest proves that you are my enemy.”
Rachel looked down at herself like she realized what she was wearing for the first time. She clutched uselessly at the collar of the shirt, looking like she would rip it off in an instant if she thought it would help her case. “One of the scientists gave it to me when I spilled coffee on my top. Look at this. It doesn’t even fit me properly.” Rachel held out her arms.
Her motion made the material stretch across her breasts and enticingly cling to her waist. Wrath stared at her body thoughtfully. Perhaps he could find uses for her even if she was working with Cyborg Sector. Rachel caught the look in his eyes and quickly wrapped her arms around her body again.
The guard at the door called out to Wrath. “Sir, there is another vehicle approaching our position. It is alone.”
Wrath looked at Clayton. “Who is it?”
The consultant shrugged. “I have no idea. It might be someone from the government. I haven’t been in communication with anyone since I came into the cave.” He hung his head sheepishly. “But I did call for backup once you destroyed our vans.”
Wrath took several quick steps toward Clayton, ready to give him another pounding.
“What did you expect me to do?” Clayton blurted as he tried to shrink against the wall. “Wouldn’t you have done the same as me if you were outnumbered and alone?”
The blonde cyborg paused while holding his fist in the air. “A cyborg is programmed to rely on his brothers. When they are gone, he relies on himself. Do you know why, human? Because there is no one else to do the job.” He let his hand fly, smashing into Clayton’s jaw and sending his head spinning on his neck. He watched as the consultant fell to the floor. Clayton was hurt but still conscious.
“What did you tell them?”
The side of Clayton’s face was beginning to swell up. Rachel could see an unusual shade of purple developing underneath his skin. “Barely anything. The explosions and that we’re alive.” He pointed a pale finger at the other side of the cave toward Rachel. “But that’s all.”
Wrath nodded. “So they are coming here with the idea that cyborgs are murderers. There’s no need to disappoint them. My cyborgs will arm themselves.”
“Please don’t escalate the situation,” Rachel whispered from her side of the shelter. “The higher the body count, the harder Cyborg Sector will work to kill you.”
“Why do you think that matters to me? I am dead either way. If I cooperate, they will take me back and terminate me. If I fight, I can die with honor.”
“I don’t think they want to kill you,” the girl protested. “I’ve seen what they’ve done for the other cyborgs. Rehabilitation changes cyborgs. They can help you recover your memories as a human and readjust to living a civilian life. There are programs to help you get a job, a house, and a car. Some of the cyborgs have families now. I’ve seen it. I’ve covered it on the news more times than I can count.”
“Maybe I don’t want rehabilitation. Do you really want a news story? You’ll have one by the time we finish here, but you might not be alive to tell it.” He addressed the guard at the mouth of the cave. “Watcher, what’s their progress?”
The warrior didn’t bother to look over his shoulder to give the report. Instead, he kept his eyes on the intruders. “They have stopped at the site of the explosion, and are searching the area. They appear to be looking for survivors.”
“Let me know if they start approaching our position. We don’t have any other mines in place, but that will give us a chance to—” A tinny, jangling tune interrupted Wrath. It was coming from Clayton’s body.
The man remained sprawled across the floor. He started going through his pockets frantically with shaking fingers. “It’s my phone,” he quickly explained when he saw Wrath’s cold gaze on him. “It’s probably the same people you’re looking at.” Clayton finally pulled the phone out of his pants and held it to his ear. “Hello? Yes, we are with the cyborgs. I don’t think they’re ready to return to Cyborg Sector.” He paused, listening to someone talking to him on the other side of the connection, then looked up at Wrath and held the phone out to him. “They want to speak with you.”
Wrath snatched the device out of Clayton’s hands. “What do you want?”
“My name is Sergeant Dickson, and I am with the Sheriff’s Department. We understand that you have two hostages, and I’m asking you to release them. We’d like to get this incident resolved without any further bloodshed.” The voice on the line sounded brusque and efficient. Wrath might have been able to appreciate the human’s dedication to duty if the situation had been different. “I’m sure you want the same thing. Send the two humans out unharmed. After that, we can talk about working something out for all of you.”
“Sheriff, I may be a cyborg, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. If I send the humans to you, what is preventing you from attacking us? We are not returning to Cyborg Sector.”
Dickson was not ready to give up. “Please give me your identifying number. I want to know with whom I am speaking.”
Wrath snorted. “My identifier is Wrath. This conversation bores me.” He hurled the phone away and watched it smash against the rocks, landing in pieces at Clayton’s feet.
As he looked at the phone wreckage, the cyborg wondered if he had made a mistake. Keeping the humans meant figuring out a plan for them. They were frustrating creatures, and the easiest thing to do would be to kill both of them. But the woman possessed
an alluring quality that was awakening primal urges in his body.
The pain in Wrath’s head started again.
Chapter Twelve
An uncomfortable silence descended over the cave once Wrath smashed the phone. Rachel thought she could hear a steady ringing in her ears even though she knew the phone would never play a sound again. She’d had little hope of escaping before, but a tiny spark of anticipation had grown when Clayton’s phone call reminded her they weren’t completely cut off from the world. The loss of the phone extinguished her hope. Once again, they were entirely at the mercy of the cyborgs.
Wrath paced the cave floor and ran his hands through his hair. Rachel wondered if it was possible for cyborgs to feel nervous. She knew they built cyborgs from human bodies, but she hadn’t realized that they might retain human emotions. Perhaps the cyborgs were exhibiting odd behavior because of their isolation, or maybe Clayton wasn’t bullshitting about their biochips degrading.
A noise erupted from Rachel’s stomach that was so loud she was sure everyone else could hear it too. Wrath and the other cyborgs made no indication that they had heard anything. If the rumbling had reached their ears, they had decided to ignore it. Would they care if she starved?
“Could I have something to eat?” she asked weakly. She tried to remember the last thing she had eaten. It was an unpleasantly crusty bagel topped with flavorless cream cheese from an airport restaurant that charged three times the reasonable price. It had been unsatisfying, but she would have given anything to have another one.
Wrath paused and stared at her, insinuating that Rachel might have invented hunger to make herself as inconvenient as possible. He glanced briefly at Weapon, who hovered over the prisoner and looked ready to pounce at any moment. Wrath’s curious stare fell on the other men around the room. Each was busy either guarding the humans or watching for new intruders. Coming to a decision, he nodded and strode to a dark corner of the cave.