The Outlaw Cyborg (Cyborgs on Mars Book 5)

by Honey Phillips

  “Correct.” Although she did wonder how thoroughly that had been tested, she found it hard to be too concerned. “The amount of water in the atmosphere is increasing daily, and the settlers’ efforts in planting lichens and other plant materials will also help to stabilize the atmosphere.”

  She had mixed feelings about the project sponsored by Earth Government to transform the surface. Something about the harsh terrain, the ever-changing reds and golds of the desert, and the jagged peaks of the mountains against the pale sky appealed to her. Perhaps because they reflected her own inner barrenness, she thought with a familiar pang.

  Carrington had resumed his complaints, but she tuned them out as the rover trundled down the path that had been the source of so much difficulty in order to reach the hidden passage to the new city. He finally stopped talking when the rock face slid aside and revealed the tunnel. When the rover emerged at the far end to overlook the huge cavern and the neat grid of luxurious residences set amidst plantings of specially bred mosses, he actually nodded approvingly.

  “This is more like it. Which one is mine?”

  “The residence at the far side, overlooking the crater below. Those are of course the most prestigious homes,” she added smoothly.

  He gave a satisfied nod. “Of course. It is one of the perks I expected as the first.”

  She donned her breathing mask, ignoring his supercilious smirk, and they climbed out of the rover. Her bodyguards, Alan and Jose, accompanied them. Although they were also GenCon employees, the two big men had proven loyal to her interests and she made sure that they were paid well in excess of their listed job titles.

  Carrington opened his mouth and took a deep breath, then smiled triumphantly. “At least this part of the process is successful.”

  He headed down the broad avenue, and once again she noted how quickly he moved despite his awkward steps. Apparently, the company had managed to get some things right. But his appearance… She suppressed a shudder.

  Carrington found little to complain about with his residence aside from the minimal furnishings. The company had done an excellent job of anticipating the surroundings a wealthy client would expect. After promising to arrange a 3D replicator that would allow him to manufacture additional furnishings, she left him ensconced in his new home.

  “He didn’t seem worried about being the only… person in this whole city,” Jose muttered as they climbed back into the rover.

  “I seriously doubt he has ever been concerned about anyone other than himself,” she said dryly. “We’ll see how long it takes before he finds something else to complain about.”

  That night, Serena dreamed. She dreamed she was back on the sidewalk as the rain fell down over her and mingled with the blood. She awoke with tears on her face, alone as always. While she still occasionally took a man to bed—for amusement or profit—she never allowed one to spend the night. There was too much chance that the pain she managed to bury during the day would emerge.

  Dashing the tears from her cheeks, she threw on an expensive silk robe and padded across the thick carpet to stand at the window. Her rooms were located on the top floor of the GenCon building. Below her, the town of New Arcadia sprawled on both sides of a wide dirt street, a ragtag collection of buildings made out of everything from prefab panels to discarded ship parts. Ignoring the familiar disorder below, she looked out through the great dome that covered the town to the desert beyond. The vast emptiness soothed her.

  Is my settler out there? she wondered before she could stop herself.

  No. Angelica might once have been swayed by an attractive man, but that part of her was long dead. She had reinvented herself as Serena, using her intelligence, her looks, and her ruthless determination to claw her way out of the slums where she’d been thrown like abandoned garbage. The price she had paid destroyed what little has been left of her soul, and she was not going to lose focus now.

  But as she returned to her lavish bed and finally drifted off to sleep, her last thoughts were of a big, silent figure, alone by a campfire.

  Chapter Four

  Six months later…

  J-100 finished recording his message and signed off. Because of the transmission delays between Earth and Mars, there was no reason to attempt live communication. His duty completed, he tried to decide what to do with the rest of his day. From force of long habit, his habitat was already neat and tidy. Although he could spend some time prospecting, the thought didn’t appeal to him. The small collection of ore he gathered made a nice little supplement to the funds he received from the government, but he didn’t really need the income. He paced to the window and back, unusually restless.

  Had it been a mistake to choose a mining claim over a homestead? At the time, he had liked the idea of the isolation it provided and the freedom to move around and investigate. He had been correct about his ability to explore—and the result of his latest explorations had been the subject of today’s message to the general. But the isolation had not proven as satisfactory as he had anticipated. Although he had always been a loner, he hadn’t realized until he was alone on his claim how accustomed he was to the presence of other people.

  He might not fit in with them and he frequently found them annoying, but he was used to them being around.

  At the thought of other people, his mind inevitably traveled to Serena. The one glance he’d had of her on the landing field had stayed with him and he frequently found himself thinking about her despite the amount of time that had passed. He knew it was ridiculous—he knew nothing about her other than that she was in charge of the organization the general so distrusted. But every time he tried to convince himself that he couldn’t possibly be interested in someone like that, he remembered the haunted look he had seen in those blue eyes and remembered that graceful figure walking away from him, completely alone despite the people surrounding her.

  As usual, his body also reacted to the memory, his cock hardening, but he was tired of taking himself in hand. With a sigh, he picked up his tablet and pulled up a book on the history of the Martian colony instead. But he had no sooner settled in his favorite chair by the big window overlooking the desert than the communicator beeped.

  That’s unusual. General Biggs rarely responded so quickly.

  The general’s message was short and to the point. Investigate further.

  J-100’s pulse quickened as he prepared to leave, despite the efforts of his nanites to keep it steady. This was the first time the general had asked him to take action and he welcomed the change in his routine.

  At the door, he hesitated, then grabbed a breathing mask. Due to his cyborg enhancements, he didn’t need the mask, but if he should encounter another settler, it was an easy way to maintain his disguise.

  He set out at an easy lope, running effortlessly across the plain. Closer to the city, the homesteaders had started planting lichens and other hardy plants to continue the terraforming process, but there were no homesteaders this far out and his footsteps only sent puffs of orange dust into the air. His habitat was nestled at the base of one mountain range. A higher range of mountains rose to the east while a vast crater lay to the west. He headed for the crater.

  During his previous explorations, he had seen unexpected signs of activity on the crater floor. If what the general suspected was true, an outpost was being created—one that GenCon had chosen to conceal from Earth Government.

  At the edge of the crater, he hid himself amongst the rocks and surveyed the ground below. His enhanced vision made it easy to pick out not only the small signs of development along one rim, but what appeared to be a track of some kind leading to a break in the far edge of the crater wall. A pass that would lead through in the direction of the spaceport and New Arcadia.

  He moved further along the rim until he had a clear view of the activity below. From this angle, he could see robots busily working on the crater wall and it was clear that they were creating an outpost of considerable size. As the general suspected, becau
se of its position it would be invisible to overhead satellites.

  There was a glint of more movement in the distance, almost too far for him to make out what was happening. He focused more intently and realized that a cyborg ranger, astride one of the robotic horses that made up their usual means of transportation, was heading into the crater through the break.

  Interesting. He wondered if the general had sent the ranger as well but the man didn’t seem to be moving with any great degree of caution. He trotted out onto the open floor of the crater, then seemed to notice the track for the first time, guiding the horse in that direction.

  As J-100 debated the merits of making contact, he caught a second flash of movement. Another figure had entered the crater. He was too far away for J-100 to make out any details other than the white pallor of his face. The second man set off after the ranger, but the angle of his approach and the rocks that cluttered the crater floor meant that he would be concealed until he was almost upon the ranger.

  Was the second man a cyborg as well? His gait was awkward, but he moved as quickly as one of the rangers. And yet… something about him made J-100’s skin crawl and he had long ago learned not to ignore his instincts. If it was an ambush, he would never reach the pair in time but neither could he stay here and do nothing. Swearing under his breath, he began making his way down the crater wall.

  Even with his enhanced strength, it was a difficult climb. Nonetheless he had almost reached the bottom before the second man attacked. J-100 was still high enough above the valley floor that he could see the ambush. The second man sprang out from behind a rock, knocking the ranger off his horse. The two men struggled while the horse reared, hooves flashing. But the two were locked too closely together for the horse to assist.

  J-100 swore again, dropped the remaining thirty feet to the valley floor, and set off at a run. He arrived just in time to see the white-faced figure toss the ranger’s body aside. The horse reared again, but the stranger shuffled backwards with surprising speed. Fortunately, he was so distracted by the horse that he didn’t hear J-100 approach. He started to turn just as J-100 reached him, but it was too late. J-100 had his arms around his neck, locking him in a remorseless grip.

  A single glance was enough to show him that the ranger was dead, and anger roared through him. The ranger had been a soldier, a victim of a ruthless government, and the being he was holding had caused his death. This close, the unnatural qualities of the stranger were all too clear—the white plastic skin, the face that remained expressionless despite his struggles, and the faint scent of decay.

  J-100 didn’t hesitate. He snapped the abomination’s neck and cast him aside.

  Although he was quite sure that the ranger was dead, he headed for him only to find his way blocked by the huge metal body of the horse.

  “Whoa there. I don’t mean any harm. I just want to see if there’s anything I can do.”

  A pair of robotic eyes surveyed him, and he could have sworn that the horse was judging him before he shook his mane and moved aside. J-100 dropped to his knees beside the fallen man. His chest had been torn open, his heart removed. A cyborg could survive many things, but this was not one of them.

  With a gentle hand, he closed the man’s eyes. Another senseless death. But he vowed this one was not going to be in vain.

  He took another glance at the white-faced stranger, remembering what the general had told him. This must have been one of GenCon’s attempts to reproduce cyborg technology. Everything about it screamed abomination, but he had to respect its power. The general had not thought that the program was so far along—and if he had been wrong about that, what else had he been wrong about?

  And why was the abomination here, so far away from New Arcadia and GenCon headquarters? He looked over at the crater wall, at the machines busily building into the rock, creating another city. A city that this abomination was created to rule?

  Looking back down at the ranger, he decided the man deserved more than to be abandoned here alone on the desert floor. He would take him back to New Arcadia. In doing so, perhaps he would also be able to discover if more of the abominations existed.

  He stood, then reached down to gather up the ranger. Once more, the horse came between them.

  “I’m going to take him home,” he said quietly, then wondered why he was talking to an animal.

  The horse gave him another one of those apparently speculative looks, then bowed his head and moved back. Hmm. If he could understand that much… While J-100 could carry the ranger, it was a long trip.

  “Will you carry him?” he asked.

  Of course the horse did not respond, but he moved closer, then stood patiently as J-100 carefully placed the ranger across his back. Then J-100 put his hand on the mane of flexible tubing, and together the two of them began the long trek towards the city.

  The shadows lengthened as they walked, and when night fell, he considered stopping but neither he nor the horse would be impacted by the freezing nighttime temperatures, and an unexpected sense of urgency was driving him onward.

  “I’m not going to stop,” he said. “I have the feeling that we need to get to New Arcadia as soon as possible.”

  The horse broke into a trot, and J-100 gave a surprised laugh before increasing his pace to keep up.

  “I swear you can understand everything I say. It reminds me of a quote I read once by a great leader about listening as a form of courage. What do you think of the name Winston?”

  Winston briefly turned his head in J-100’s direction, then tossed his mane and resumed his rapid pace. J-100 took that as acceptance.

  By the time the pale Martian sun started to wash the rocks with gold, they were almost at the city.

  Chapter Five

  As always, Serena was behind her desk before the sun rose, but today she had been driven as much by a feeling of restlessness as her usual dedication to her job. She looked up as her office doors were flung wide and Alan appeared in the opening, his face worried.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Gatling, but I think something is wrong.”

  She raised her eyebrows. Her bodyguards were usually unflappable. “What is it?”

  “Four of the new hybrids are here in New Arcadia.”

  Fuck. Not long after Carrington had arrived, he had kidnapped a baby and been shot in the subsequent rescue attempt. She had warned the company about his mental instability—although not about the assistance she had provided to the cyborg rangers who had rescued him. Despite that, GenCon had sent twelve more hybrids to Mars on the last transport.

  Eight of them had been assigned to the new outposts that the corporation had been preparing in secret. The other four had been delivered to the nearby hidden city prepared for the wealthy—or formerly wealthy—men who were both clients and experiments. Desperate enough to pass on most of their fortune in return for leaving Earth, this new batch had been equipped with control chips in order to prevent any further “unfortunate incidents.” Unlocking her desk, she reached for the case containing the command panel for the chips.

  The crack of a shot sent her gaze flying back to the open doors in time to see Alan collapse to the floor, blood pooling beneath his body. One of the hybrids stood over him, his white face locked into an expressionless mask. She recognized Evans, an embezzler who had used the millions of credits stolen from his victims to fund his way to Mars and away from prison.

  And now he’s gone from white-collar criminal to cold-blooded murderer, she thought, sickened at the sight of Alan’s lifeless body.

  “You will no longer require the services of a bodyguard, Ms. Gatling,” Evans said, his excited voice at odds with the eerie stillness of his face. “We wouldn’t dream of letting anything happen to such a valuable GenCon executive.”

  She tried to ease her hand surreptitiously towards the control case but he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t bother. Those chips you implanted in our heads—without our consent I might add—are no longer active.”

  Double fuck
. Long practice kept her face and voice calm. “I see. What do you intend to do now?”

  “Eliminate the cyborgs and take control, of course, just as GenCon intended. Although I’m afraid they will be playing a much less significant part than they had planned.” He laughed again, the hysterical edge sending shivers down her spine. “Now, you be a good girl and remain here while I clean up this mess. I will be back shortly to provide you with a list of demands for you to convey to your employer.”

  The doors closed behind him before she could respond. Her hands were trembling, she realized as she reached for the useless case. It had been many, many years since that happened. She had to make a decision. Follow the hybrid’s instructions and wait quietly until he returned, and then try and negotiate on behalf of GenCon? Or do everything in her power to stop the hybrids?

  She knew her employer would expect her to negotiate. If they ever found out she had made an alternate choice, she would lose her last possible chance at the technology she so desperately wanted. She thought of Alan’s body outside the door. She thought of the cyborgs and their families—of their children. The hybrids had already demonstrated they didn’t care who would be hurt. And just as with the baby Carrington had kidnapped, that was a line she would not cross.

  With a defeated sigh, she picked up the communicator and called the Judge. Even though the big cyborg had officially retired to spend time with his wife and child, he was still the indisputable leader of the cyborgs—and he owed her a favor.

  After she asked for his assistance, she was about to warn him about the situation when an icy white hand reached across her desk and snatched the communicator away from her. The hybrid demanded a response, but the Judge must not have answered because the hybrid discarded the device with a frustrated growl, then turned on her.

  “You were told to wait here for our instructions. I think you do not understand the situation. You are no longer in command.”