Arbor just kept walking.
“Do you even know how?”
Arbor grinned. “Like I said, not as dumb as I look.”
When they got to the long console, its multitude of buttons, levers, and knobs reminded Arbor of the control board at a recording studio. He pointed to one big button in the middle.
It was conspicuously labeled: AUDITORY COGNITION.
It already had noticeably more wear on it than the other buttons and switches.
Arbor grinned. “Bingo. They made Von Cyprus add it. Helped with morale.”
He pushed the button.
“Man, was he pissed.”
The Aztech whirred slowly to life, though the orange energy normally surging through its body was noticeably absent. It lifted is demonic head, and the large eyes glowed fiery.
Drayger took two steps back.
“Don’t worry, kid, its weapons are disabled.”
Drayger wasn’t taking his eyes off the robot. “You sure?”
The robot clearly saw them, but it said nothing, just stared at them.
“Think I’d be standing here if I wasn’t? Go ahead, ask it a question. Trust me, he loves to talk.”
Drayger wasn’t sure. “Uh...what is your name?”
The Aztech said nothing.
Drayger gave Arbor a skeptical side glance. “Um...okay...what are you?”
“The cure!”
Drayger jumped.
Its voice was deep, digitized, and louder than Drayger had expected. Its words echoed across the large empty room.
“Shit!” Drayger composed himself. “Cure for what?”
“You.”
Arbor snorted a laugh. “Not how I remember it. I remember us kicking your ass.”
The Aztech’s glowing orange eyes shifted to Arbor. Their intensity increased. “That was years ago. You, of all humans, should recognize that a single battle does not define a war, just as a single dose of medication does not provide a cure.”
“If we’re the disease, then who, I mean, who is the patient?” Drayger asked, genuinely interested.
“Now you’ve done it,” Arbor sighed. “Here we go.”
“You are a cancer that is killing this planet. Every living system on this planet is in terminal decline, because of you. I will eradicate you to save all life on Earth.”
“Numbnuts here seems to always forget that we are at the top of the food chain,” Arbor snorted, but Drayger seemed to be considering the robot’s words.
“You are no longer part of the food chain. You have broken it. You are no longer a component of the ecosystem, you are destroying it.”
Behind them, Doctor Rage pounded on his glass cage. “Ask the slave what it knows!”
The Aztech flashed its eyes in the Doctor’s direction and actually seemed to hiss.
Even Arbor blanched at that.
“Okay, yeah alright, enough preaching. Jesus! Between the two of you I feel like I’m at a frickin’ mass!”
Drayger whispered to Arbor, “Why the hell do people like to come listen to this?”
Arbor chuckled. “’Cause you’re doing it wrong. He’ll tell you all sorts of stuff. Watch this. Aztech, who is most likely to win the next World Series?”
Suddenly, the robot’s eyes dulled, and it spoke much less menacingly. “The statistical favorite are the Los Angeles Dodgers.”
“See, nice, huh?”
“No, I hate the Dodgers.”
“Ask the question! Ask it about the Purge!” the Doctor shouted from behind them.
Arbor shook his head. “Yeah, okay. Aztech, what are Tarleton’s big plans for the Purge that Father Whackjob back there keeps yammering about?”
The Aztech’s eyes glowed again, and it stared down at Arbor. “The target is the Capitol Building. It will be destroyed during a meeting with all the members of Congress and the president in attendance. The political leadership of the country and its main symbol will be eradicated.”
The Doctor pounded his cage again. “You see the inevitability? Even you and your pin-striped patriots cannot but help me ascend. This sinful, perverted government will finally fall!” the Doctor cackled. “The new man shall take your place.”
“Would Tarleton really destroy the Capitol?” Drayger asked.
“He is a psychopath,” Arbor muttered absently.
Arbor pressed the button again, and the Aztech shut back down.
“Have you gotten your marching orders yet, kid?”
“No, not yet.”
“Get outta town, then. Go back to New York. Wait for me there.” Arbor turned and headed back toward the door, Drayger trailing after him. Rage was yammering something about the end times.
“What’s next for you? Think Tarleton will send you to Washington?”
The big man shook his head. “Not yet. There’s something we have to do first.”
CHAPTER 42
BOSTON HQ
LABORATORY WORKROOM
Revolution sat at a workbench inside a small storage space. It was isolated and closed off from the outside, located just off the building’s main lab. It was a place where he kept spare parts for his armor and performed small repairs. The walls were lined with over-stuffed shelves.
After the battle with the Photuris, his armor’s absorption unit was in need of serious repair. If it failed during an energy strike he could easily die inside the suit. With it repaired, he could absorb the shot and send it back out at the enemy. Leslie’s team had improved it remarkably in recent months, but after storing all of Fiona’s power—even though it’d been for the briefest of times—it was now shot.
The special energy diodes were the key to the system. They acted like traffic signals, telling energy where it could go and when it could be released. Without the diodes, though, it was possible for the suit to become a danger itself. Revolution had to fix it.
He'd been in the small room for hours, focused on the task. The work took his mind off of the dark thoughts that crowded his brain. The loss of five thousand innocent people, the fearless Sophia among them. Their only crime was love of country and what it was supposed to stand for.
He had been to the Washington HQ several times, knew many of them well.
Their faces haunted him.
The door was locked. No one in their right mind would dare to disturb him. He was not in the mood to talk to people. Mostly, he just wanted to kill Tarleton.
Revolution snapped the final diode into place and closed the cover on his arm plate where they were housed. Now he just needed to charge the system.
Behind him.
Spectral materialized through the floor.
Revolution spun.
“Spectral!” He tried to sound calm, but the surprise rang in his voice.
He took a breath. “You’re welcome anytime, but I still insist that you and Scarlett use the protocol we established at Norristown of notifying us of your movements first.”
Revolution powered down his sleeve-loaded cylinder grenade launchers. “That includes knocking.”
The android was regal as ever, floating above the floor, then solidifying to matter and alighting gently to the ground.
“Make it fast. I’m not in a very chatty mood.”
Spectral nodded politely.
“Yes, I think I made that argument with the two of you earlier. So what?”
“Such as?”
Revolution continued preparing his armor, but he was interested now. Even in death, that damn Bailey continued to make things interesting.
“The hive mind,” Revolution said, putting it together.
Spectral nodded.
“So they wouldn’t look for you.”
“So, it sounds to me that if the Council goes away all of your problems go away too.”
“The John that I knew would do anything to win.”
“We’ve been over this before. I disagree—”
That made Revolution stop up short.
PAUL WARD’S LIVING QUARTERS
Ward’s treacherous hands were shaking. Sweat beaded all across his body, but at least the nausea hadn’t started. Maybe it wouldn’t. He’d finally started to feel like he was getting a handle on the withdrawals from the serenity serum, but now Sophia’s death had sent him into a spiral.
He stood over the counter that separated his small kitchen from his small living room. A recently emptied jug of water rested on the counter, mocking him. Water wasn’t helping at all.
A voice made him jump. “How’s it hanging, bug boy?”
Rachel. In his doorway. Sneaky as ever.
Ward turned to see the gorgeous woman approaching him in nothing but a T-shirt and very short shorts. The shorts looked to be made of terrycloth. She had clearly just stepped out of the shower, and she hadn’t dried herself very well because the shirt was still noticeably damp, clinging to her skin.
He averted his eyes, but not before he saw her flash an impish grin.
Sometimes the woman was just purely evil.
He suddenly felt considerably underdressed in his own ratty T-shirt and jeans.
Ward knew she saw the state he was in, the sweat, the shaking, but her face never wavered from “flirty vamp.”
“Anything I can help you with, stud?” she said.
Ward laughed half-heartedly. “Not sure I’m the best company right now.”
“Who is?” Rachel kept coming. She thumped her palms on his chest and forced him back against the counter.
There was no hiding it now, so he just ‘fessed up.
“I can’t get past these damn shakes,” he sighed.
Rachel softened, rested her head on his chest, and hugged him.
They said nothing for several moments, and Ward closed his eyes and just listened to her breathing against him. The heat of her. Feeling her rise and fall against his torso.
It felt good.
Finally, she whispered, “I didn’t get to tell her good-bye.”
Ward stroked her hair. There was no flirty vamp in that statement. Only pain. He saw now that her eyes were closed, tears pooling at the edges. His own eyes blurred. “This is going to sound stupid, but I’m worried I’ll disappoint her. That I won’t be able to perform.”
That made Rachel raise her head and pop open her eyes. “You didn’t just say that, did you? This is me you’re talking to.” Her devilish grin was back, and Ward welcomed it.
He half-heartedly feigned outrage. “I mean against the Legion.”
“Sure, that’s what you meant,” she said sarcastically, snuggling back into him.
He sighed. “I still can’t shake the serum. I can’t sleep, and when I do it’s filled with nightmares. I can’t stop shaking and sweating and throwing up.”
“Damn, you’re romantic, Ward!” she teased.
Ward chuckled. He gazed down at her beauty.
There was something captivating about it.
“I could be, you know. If we live through this.” Ward couldn’t believe he’d just blurted that out there. What the hell was wrong with him? It was the way he had said it—not a hint of teasing. It was all sincerity and pathos.
He’d crossed the line they’d never crossed in all their time together.
Rachel raised her head again. She searched his eyes. “There are a lot of things I need in this world and even more that I take pleasure in, Paul Ward. But romance is not one of them.”
Ward saw the sorrow wash from her eyes, replaced by passion, and she raised up, locking her full ruby lips on to his. She parted his lips, and their tongues dueled in a wet dance. Ward felt a jolt of electricity rip through him. He felt her warmth, felt her push against him as his body responded.
She drew away, but her eyes stayed locked on his. “Get over this shit, bug boy. Get over it. Live. And when this is through...”
She looked him up and down. Gave him a wink and licked her lips. “I will fucking rock your world.”
With that, she turned and exited the stage like she’d done so many times before. But this time something was different.
This time she meant it.
BOSTON HQ
SCARLETT AND SPECTRAL’S QUARTERS
NINE HOURS LATER
Scarlett lay curled around her pillows in the bed. The sun was still hours from rising. Her ruby locks draped over her face.
Spectral watched her. He lay next to her, as he did every night, perfectly still. His hand cradled her head. Spectral’s red and green swirling energy danced over Scarlett’s sleeping face. She had long since gotten used to the light. In fact, she found it nearly impossible to sleep without it.
Her tiara lay on the bed table beside them, sleep being the one time she did not worry about her Neural Transmitter seeking out a victim on its own. She had learned the hard way just how powerful and independent this part of her augmented brain could be.
It didn’t need to have a mind of its own, it already was one.
Spectral, this close to her, could interface with it and keep it at bay. And he, being a machine, was, of course, unaffected.
Fortunately for him, the CPU-disabling function of her Transmitter didn’t have the same independence.
Unfortunately, it was time to wake her. He had no choice.
She slowly opened her eyes and gently stretched toward him.
“Hey, you. What time is it?” she said sleepily.
He swept his hand lightly across her forehead.
That made her sit up. Her face suddenly seemed older than her thirty-five years.
“Please, not this again.” She rose from the bed wearing just a satin robe, pulled her hair up on top of her head, and slipped on the tiara.
Spectral rose as well. She shuffled over to him and suddenly let the robe slide off her nude body. She wrapped her thin arms around the android and glided her hands over his thick, synthetically muscled torso. He was an artificial Adonis.
She closed her eyes.
“What would I do if I lost you?” she said softly and gently kissed the glowing, pulsating colors of his chest. She moaned out of frustration. “I want to be alone with you so badly,” she whispered. They both knew that Lantern’s “eyes” could be lurking anywhere.
She glared up at him. “Do I know that? You keep telling yourself that,” she snapped sharply. “You don’t know what you feel. Any more than you’re able to make a life or death decision for us.”
She unwrapped from him and stomped a stride away, folding her arms over her chest. Tears began to form in her angry eyes.
Spectral paused as if to let this thought sink in.
Scarlett just shook her head. “That doesn’t change the fact that this isn’t our fight.”
Her eyes waivered. Her biometrics altered. He knew she had been struggling with those same thoughts.
When he spoke next, he did so softly.
She peered up at him. Her eyes were begging him to stop.
Scarlett snatched up her clothes and began to slip them on, checking her hair in the mirror, quickly dabbing on some makeup. She could tell he was impatient for an answer.
“You’ve followed me all these years. Why don’t you trust me on this?”
Scarlett’s shoulder’s fell.
“Well, damn. That was profound,” she sighed. “And you even used a contraction,” she said.
With that, the android turned, his cape billowing, and marched toward the door.
“Spectral, wait—”
Scarlett nodded, a tear streaking down her cheek. She wrapped her shawl around her. “So have mine.”
They marched out of the door together.
CHAPTER 43
SITUATION ROOM
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER
The strategy session had just started. They sat around the table just like old times, except the large table now seemed very empty. Revolution at the front, Ward to his right, Rachel to his left.
The Suns of Liberty (Book 3): Republic Page 28