Hell On Heels (38 page)
“Hell to the no,” Granny corrected Dwayne. “She was engaged. Left the alpha of the Georgia Pack high and dry.”
“Enough,” I snapped. “Ancient history. I’m more concerned about what kind of cow patty I’ve stepped in with the Council. The
sheriff
knows why I left. Maybe the Council accepted me cause I can shoot stuff and I have no fear and they have to hire a certain quota of women and…”
“And they want to make sure you don’t dig into the past,” Dwayne added unhelpfully.
“You’re a smart bloodsucker,” Granny chimed in.
“Thank you.”
“You think the Council had something to do with it,” I said. This screwed with my chi almost as much as the Hank situation from a year ago. I had finally done something on my own and it might turn out I hadn’t earned any of it.
“I’m not sayin’ nothing like that,” Granny admonished harshly. “And neither should you. You could get killed.”
She was partially correct, but I was the one they sent to kill people who broke Council laws. However, speaking against the Council wasn’t breaking the law. The living room had grown too small for my need to move and I prowled the rest of the house with Granny and Dwayne on my heels. I stopped short and gaped at my empty bedroom.
“Where in the hell is my furniture?”
“You moved all your stuff to Hank’s and he won’t give it back,” Granny informed me.
An intense thrill shot through my body, but I tamped it down immediately. I was done with him and he was surely done with me. No one humiliated an alpha and got a second chance. Besides I didn’t want one… Dwayne’s snicker earned him a glare that made him hide behind Granny in fear.
“Did you even try to get my stuff back?” I demanded.
“Of course I did,” she huffed. “That was your mamma’s set from when she was a child. I expected you’d use it for your own daughter some day.”
My mamma…My beautiful mamma who’d been murdered along with my daddy. The possibility that the Council had been involved was gnawing at my insides in a bad way.
“I have to compartmentalize this for a minute or at least a couple of weeks,” I said as I stood in the middle of my empty bedroom. “I have to do what I was sent here for. But when I’m done, I’ll get answers and vengeance.”
“Does that mean no vacation?” Dwayne asked.
I stared at Dwayne like he’d grown three heads. He was getting terribly good at rendering me mute.
“That was a good question, Dwayne.” Granny patted him on the head like a dog and he preened. “Essie, your mamma and daddy would want you to have a vacation before you get killed finding out what happened to them.”
“Can we go to Jamaica?” Dwayne asked.
“Ohhh, I’ve never been to Jamaica,” Granny volunteered.
They were both batshit crazy, but Jamaica did sound kind of nice…
“Fine, but you’re paying,” I told Dwayne. He was richer than Midas. He’d made outstanding investments in his three hundred years.
“Yayayayayayay!” he squealed.
“I’ll call the travel agent,” Granny said. “How long do you need to get the bad guy?”
“A week. Give me a week.”
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KEEP READING in this ebook to read an excerpt from “PEYTON 313”, Book 1 of
Cyborgs: Mankind Redefined
by author Donna McDonald
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Excerpt from
PEYTON 313
(Book 1 of Cyborgs:Mankind Redefined)
by Donna McDonald
Chapter 1
“Dr. Winters, how can you refuse this kind of money? Chancellor Li and I approved Norton’s offer of twenty million solely because you are the last original cyborg creator. More is simply not a possibility. Now if it’s the lead scientist position you crave, perhaps that can be discussed as an additional incentive for your return.”
Kyra tried her best not to react too negatively to the giants glaring at her through her monstrous living room com. Jackson had abandoned the seldom used device during their divorce many years ago. She was only using it for the conference call so the UCN chancellors would see her relaxing on her sofa instead of staring intensely at her lab console.
She could handle the pressure they were exerting on her to return to Norton because she had no intention of going back. But it was not fun to face down several frowning impatient men whose every frustrated expression was being projected directly into her wide-eyed retinas. Luckily her far beyond Mensa level brain discarded her rising nervousness as it reminded her that there was no reason to be intimidated by an optical illusion. She had met all the chancellors many times. Most of them were much shorter than her five foot ten inch height.
“Gentlemen, I am deeply honored that you have taken the time to contact me this morning. But however inconceivable it might be for Norton or the UCN, my retirement has nothing to do with money. My plan is to find a more satisfying use of my skills. As you know my specialty has always been military cybernetics, but the final war has been over for almost a decade. There is no research being done at Norton right now that suits my desire to better the world we live in. I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am morally opposed to installing the behavior modification system in children.”
Kyra watched as Chancellor Owens fought not to roll his eyes at her adamant statement. He was a thoroughly detestable man and she didn’t understand how someone like him had managed to become the UCN’s head chancellor.
“Yes. We are all aware. Fortunately, there are other cyber scientists willing to lend their talents to that specific project. If Norton has nothing that interests you at the moment, perhaps a paid consultancy would suit you more than a permanent position. I’m sure the personal loss of not one, but two costly Cyber Husbands over the last seven years, has been traumatic for you. And we are all aware that Jackson left you no choice but to deal with his own death recently. What I’m trying to say is that we understand this may be a time in your life where it’s natural you would be doing a lot of. . .self-reflection.”
Kyra watched Chancellor Owens shrug his shoulders after his speech and look away. She had no logical reason to dislike him other than he always gave her the creeps. And she doubted he ever reflected on anything outside of his bank account for long.
“The consideration of the UCN council for my personal losses is greatly appreciated, but I assure you that I am doing just fine. My relationship to Jackson was over long before his death occurred and brought me back into the picture temporarily. And as my reports on their deaths indicated, both my Cyber Husbands came to me with undiagnosed mental health problems. Their losses merely taught me to be a smarter consumer about spending my money.”
When Chancellor Owens glared at her explanation, Kyra had to fight off the urge to sigh. She was getting really tired of defending her right to do what she wanted for a living.
“That’s good to hear. Still—I don’t think it’s wise of you to make any sort of final decision about refusing so much potential income,” he suggested.
Kyra nodded reluctantly. Chancellor Owens had a rational point and she had no way to defend her own logic. All she could do was hope the UCN left her alone long enough to finish her task.
“I concede your suggestion to delay my final choice is wise, but for now I remain resolved in my quest to find a happier life in more suitable work. Receiving Jackson’s surprising inheritance has allowed me to purchase a third Cyber Husband. In fact, he’s being delivered in a few hours. I’ve planned a short honeymoon for us next week, so it is doubtful I will look for work until after our return.”
Kyra swallowed past the knot of tension in her throat. She want to say “not only no, but hell no” to going back to Norton, but she was too afraid of the UCN’s power to deny their request so flatly. “Perhaps from time to time I could return to Norton to work on special projects. I will give that idea some additional thought once I’ve settled down to marital life again.”
“Yes, please do that, Dr. Winters. And congratulations on your new purchase. You have the UCN’s best wishes for the relationship to be both pleasing and successful this time,” Chancellor Owens declared.
Kyra nodded once, hoping the man was finally winding down. “Thank you, Chancellor Owens.”
“Have a blessed day, Dr. Winters.”
“May the same fate be yours, Chancellor.”
Kyra laughed and shook her head after she had disconnected. The amount of money the UCN had been willing to pay her to return to Norton was unnaturally obscene. If she was worth twenty million a year to them to stay, would the UCN really let her go work for anyone else for less money? Probably not. But what could they do to stop her?
Or maybe the right question was, what
would
they do to stop her?
Thinking of the conference call and her own trepidation made her suddenly regret all the things she had put off doing up to now. Kyra had to wipe the sweat from her palms before the remote for the com would work. When she was sure the com viewer was shut down completely, she rose and headed for her lab.
***
Kyra sighed with genuine regret as she attached the most recent photo she could find to the file she was creating. She stared for a while at the handsome solider, then cleared her throat as her finger hesitated over the record symbol. Making a holographic message to document her work had been put off for too long already.
She had one more chance—one more cyborg—and he was due to be delivered in just a few hours. If restoration didn’t work this time, her video confession might be the only record of all the secrets she had kept for the last seven years. There was no money left for another attempt which meant there was also no time left for being afraid.
“Record full body visuals as well as speech. Visual is to be permanently attached to the final output. Destroy any file copy on attempt at separation of visual, or any attempt to edit content at all. Set password code for running the file as. . .”
Kyra hesitated over the password. To open the message, she had intended to use the cyborg ID of her first successful restoration because the man himself would become the living dissertation proving her work. Since she hadn’t been successful yet, she could only have faith that her third and final attempt would net that result.
“For a password code to run the file, use Peyton 3 dash 1 dash 3.”
She cleared her throat one final time before starting the recording.
“Hello. My name is Dr. Kyra Winters. I am one of the two original cyber scientists who invented the Cybernetic Soldier program. In the year 2143 CE, along with my now deceased husband, I helped combat modify three hundred and forty-two soldiers who were pivotal in our government winning the final world war. After the global peace treaty of 2146 was signed, those soldiers’ families were told that the modification process had become irreversible. To back up that falsehood, modified soldiers were manipulated into acting in ways that made them seem more dangerous than they actually were. The truth is that outside their combat service many didn’t trust the Cyber Soldiers’ humanity to rule over the enhanced cybernetic capabilities we had given to them. Without any testing of this theory, the Cyber Soldiers were deemed a threat by all the members of our global world government. All modified humans—those we call ‘cyborgs’—have been forced to run android-like programming which makes them appear to be little more than living machines. It is a scientific illusion and a form of human enslavement that must not be allowed to continue.”
Kyra paused the recording and took a deep breath. It was even harder to put her crimes into words than she thought it would be. Part of her wanted to stop and try the recording again later. But even if she did, nothing would change the horror that had to be described. She resumed the recording before she lost her nerve to continue.
“Some of those men we modified left wives and children to fight for the freedom and peace we now enjoy. They deserve to be honored for their sacrifice, not live out their lives as robotic slaves for the highest bidder. How can we know what each modified person would have done if we don’t give any of them the chance to exercise their fundamental human rights? And despite the cybernetic implants, those men are still human. Restoration was never even attempted until I started doing it myself several years ago. My experiments were not—and still are not—condoned by the United Coalition of Nations or the scientific research agency I once worked for. Sadly, I must report to you that all world government organizations are colluding on this issue. But if I am successful in my experiments, every soldier with cybernetics installed will soon have the option to fight once again for freedom—only this time it will be for their own.”
Kyra lifted her sleeve and swiped at her tears
. “Until that time arrives—please—I implore you to not let your children or loved ones receive any unnecessary cybernetic implants. Modification has become a negative trend in our society and is producing rapid declines in human decency. Poverty stricken women prisoners, for crimes as simple as shoplifting, are being modified without their consent and forced to work as sexual companions. Children—too many innocent children—are being wired with pain devices to make them behave. You need to think hard about these acts. Mankind should not always be engaged in efforts to control each other. These are real people being modified—real people just like you that are being turned into cyber slaves. Any one of us could be next.”