Killswitch (29 page)

“I just asked. I typed in a message and the code started scrolling. I think my eyes did the work.”

“Oh my. Your eyes are programmed to accept data, but you don't need to do that on your own, Chase. You're an amateur. When I instructed your processors to allow reentry of the exoself, I did it in an orderly fashion to avoid too much strain on your…human. Are you all right?”

“It was a little overwhelming but I feel good now.”

“And all functions are operational? The vision and hearing enhancers? The strength sensors?”

“Haven't tried out the vision and hearing, but the upper body strength is back for sure.”

From across the room, Switchblade muttered, “You got that right.”

Chase glanced his way. “Sorry, buddy.” He turned his focus back to the phantom figure of his doctor and designer. “Robert, I suffered a broken leg when the truck I was in flipped—that's when the Feds lost the trail. It took two days for the break to heal. Two days, Robert. What can you tell me about that?”

The man cleared his throat. “Your blood contains—”

“Nanobytes?”

“More like nano
bots
. But yes, they are in your bloodstream. When I last examined you, they were non-functional. I expected nothing more from them than the validation that such mighty little warriors could indeed be added to a human being's blood and not cause death. Are you saying that your broken bone has healed completely, Chase?”

“Like it never happened. Are
you
saying adding this crap to my blood could have killed me?”

“It was a possibility. I didn't know you then, son. I didn't care about you as much as I cared about the experiment. Any number of things could have gone wrong. That you survived your transformation at all was a miracle. I must admit part of me longs to study how the techno-evolutionary process is changing you. Your body's ability to heal itself is just another miracle. If I could believe in miracles. As it is, I'm glad those who do believe have taken you in. You know I'm sorry for all this, Chase. I wish it had never happened.”

“I don't wish that, Robert. I'm with the ones who have become my people. I have to protect them. Are there any more surprises coming?”

“I can't answer that with certainty.” The doctor's appearance seemed to change. A darkness fell on him. “The exoself may take over your own thought process as it strives to preserve itself. Or it may have developed such a dependence on you that it will do nothing to harm you, but only to help you. Either way, it will—it has already—taken on a personality and it's living inside you, Chase. Whether or not you can trust it…”

“Someone else has taken up residence inside me, and I don't believe He will allow harm to come to me. Or allow me to become a danger to anyone.”

The doctor shook his head. Was his motion real, or was the exoself adding appropriate gestures to the conversation? “You have become one of the hiders,” he said. “Am I correct? A believer?”

“Yes, Robert. The exoself may attempt to become more, or to make me less. But God is bigger than it or me and He's got this.”

“Your secret is safe with me, son.”

“My location is a secret, Robert. The work of the underground is a secret. But what I said about me and God is no secret. Tell the world if you want. Tell them Chase Sterling is a true believer. A follower of Jesus, whose blood is more powerful than mine.”

Mel clutched his arm. Did she expect him to keep it quiet? One thought tripped over another. The blood. Actively regenerating healing bytes…or bots.

Amos could live.

“I can't say I agree with your decision, son. I fear you've been driven to the limits of reason by the torment I helped bring on you. Again, you know my sorrow over the matter.”

“No regrets. There's no turning back. But tell me something, as my doctor and my friend. If my blood was injected into another human—not a transhuman—just a regular man, what would happen?”

Mel lifted her hand to his face pulled his gaze to her. “Oh, Chase, you can't be serious.”

“Didn't Christ give his blood for me? Why shouldn't I follow His example?”

“It's not the same at all, Chase.” Her eyes filled with such fear, and Chase wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't bear to think she might come to fear him.

“Trust me,” he told her.

She sniffed back tears and nodded. “Always.”

Chase let her go and stared at the corner of the room. But the computer image his brain had interpreted as the likeness of Robert Fiender had faded to a line of code and a flash of white.

“No. Don't go. You didn't answer my question.” He shuffled to the empty corner. “Robert?”

47

Mel put her hands on Chase's shoulders. “Is he gone?”

Chase drew her close, then gaped at Switchblade, who sat on the floor, his back to the wall, his hands resting on his knees.

“Is he, man? He didn't tell you nothing about the blood? Because I think you got something there, Charlie.”

“Oh, Switch, you can't be serious,” Mel said. “You can't just go pumping nanobytes into a sick man. Besides that, we don't know what would happen to Chase if we started pumping them
out
.”

“Actually, it's nano
bots
. Is that even weirder?” Chase asked. “Because it sounds weirder.”

Mel didn't answer—her attention remained on Switchblade. “I can't imagine any doctor would agree to it, much less one with no training in cyber-genetics. Certainly not Dr. John, and I know that's what you're thinking.”

Switchblade got up and limped to the door. “Charlie, can you get that ghost back here for some more Q & A?”

“I don't think so. But he'll show up again. Somebody must have interrupted. He can't very well sit around talking to Chase Sterling with other people around.”

Mel shook her head. “Chase, this is crazy—you talking to him. Talking to Kerstin the way you did. They're going to find us.”

“We know what happened the last time they closed in. The exoself took care of it.”

“You really want to go through that again?” she asked. “Tell the exoself to stop bringing people here from your old life.” She crossed her arms.

“Robert will be careful. I need to talk to him again.”

“About a blood transfusion?
That
is even crazier. As leader of Blue Sky Field, I forbid it.”

“Mel. Seriously? You're going to stop me from doing something to save Amos's life?”

“I've got to get back to the command center.” She opened the door. “If Fiender shows up again, I want to know about it immediately.” She left without waiting for a response.

“Yes
ma'am
,” Chase said. He pointed at the door and lowered his brow at Switchblade. “That woman…”

“Yeah, you got your hands full, Charlie. But she's just looking out for you. At least you got Sparky back. You really saw that doctor of yours? I only heard one side of a conversation, and I didn't see nothing but you staring at the corner.”

“He seemed as real as you, Switchblade. I mean, after he coded in and before he coded out.”

“I think I got the gist of it—the talk you had with the man. You went right out and told him you're a believer. Took guts, Charlie. More guts than I ever had.”

“Nobody ever taught
me
to be quiet, Switch. And nobody ever will.”

“You got some power in you, brother. All that stuff you said about Christ giving His blood for you—you understand it. But you ain't had no teaching.”

Chase sat on the end of the bed. The exoself ran through every branch of the underground. That world, at the moment, appeared safe. Well fed. Equipped. Transportation requests flowed through his mind. A branch in the EU had accepted thirty-two believers seeking shelter after a raid of church houses. No one was lost in the crackdown.

Everything Mel could see at her work station amassed in Chase's head without any prompting. The Underground Church moved on in its quest to remain an entity apart from the obstructive forces of world government. Hidden, protected. In part by the programs brought to them by a transhuman. But surely it was God watching out for them.

Was the rest of the population to be left godless?

Chase shifted from Mel's programs and the code uniting the underground, and locked into the workings of the WR. He'd been kicked out of this trail of information when Robert first removed the federal ownership of the exoself and placed it solely in Chase's possession. But the exoself took a one-way street back to the Western Republic. That street was still open. Nothing had changed since Sparky took shelter in Mel's old computers. Chase roamed the government programs at will.

The nearest detention center—the one with the awful machine designed to harvest gray matter—had a few new prisoners. Dissenters. Kirel was one of them. He might talk—tell the Feds all about Blue Sky Field. His file showed nothing but a medical report stating trauma to the brain resulting in short-term memory loss. A temporary condition being treated with techno-medical procedures. Kirel wouldn't be out of his mind forever.

Chase shuddered as he attached a report demanding treatment cease immediately due to insufficient data supporting a positive outcome of the procedure. Then he prayed Kirel would never remember he'd been beneath an old museum in Herouxville.

He looked up to find Switchblade sitting beside him.

“Man, you been off on a trip or what? You got an update from Sparky?”

“Yes. Most of it's good. Some of it's troubling. I'll monitor the situation.”

“Tell me if I can be of assistance. You serious about helping Amos, in spite of what our fearless leader says? Because I'm ready for a trip out of this cave.”

“Switchblade, if I get Mel to change her mind I want you to stay here. I'll feel a lot better knowing you're watching over Blue Sky Field.”

The big man huffed and shook his head. “I'd feel a lot better doing what Amos assigned me to do—watching your back.”

“I can handle a run to Gagnon. But before we plan anything I need to talk to Robert again. No point in putting Amos through that if the maker of the nanobots says it's a waste of time.”

“This stuff just keeps getting weirder, Charlie.”

“Yeah. And useful. I hope.”

48

The command center buzzed with excitement. Eyes stared at Chase. The people knew their transhuman was back in full service. He could hear every whisper across the room. Sure didn't take long for news to travel in this place.

Chase pulled up a chair and sat next to Mel at her work station. She lifted her gaze from the computer screen. No smile. Not even a welcoming gleam in her deep brown eyes.

“Mel, I can't help it if people back at the Helgen can visit me through the exoself.”

She focused on work in front of her. “We shouldn't have allowed the exoself back in. I didn't know you were going to get another visitation right off the bat. We would have been fine without—”

“I'm a transhuman, Melody. Can you live with that?”

She dropped her hands from the keypad and swiveled in her chair. Her expression softened. “I love you.”

That ever-present giggle of teenage girls rippled through the space between Chase and Mel. He smiled.

“Can we go someplace a little more private?” He took her hand and rubbed her fingers. “I'll leave the door open.”

She smiled at last and rose from her seat. She said nothing, but tightened her grip on his hand and led him down the hallway to her room.

He followed her in. As he said he would, he left the door cracked. But it made no difference to him—he took her in his arms and kissed her. “Can you?”

She seemed dazed, and said nothing before her lips met his again. Then she fixed her eyes on his. “Can I what?”

“Live with the fact that I am a transhuman.”

“Oh, that. Can you live with the fact that I'm not going to let you take Amos to Gagnon?”

He dropped his hands from her waist. “What if Robert says it will work? That it won't harm either Amos or me?”

“That's a big
if
.”

“Well?”

“You get me conclusive information about what might happen, and I will consider the
two
of us taking Amos to see Dr. John.”

“You'd leave your post? You're the boss now.”

“Well, that doesn't seem to matter to
you
. You're going to do as you please. And I'm going to follow you wherever you go.” She cupped his face in her hands. “I just have a bad feeling, Chase. Like if you leave we might not ever see each other again.”

He took her hand and held it to his lips. “Mel, you've got to believe me. I will do whatever it takes to make sure that never happens. I can't live without you.”

“Then don't go.”

A young man pushed the door open. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Amos seems to be getting worse. Mr. Sterling, your mother wants to see you.”

Chase pivoted toward the door and heaved a breath. “I'm coming.” He faced Mel. “Let's go see him. He might not approve any more than you do, but I want to tell him.”

“All right, but—”

“I know. Robert's got to show up again and give his approval.”

“I hope that crazy old doctor—”

“Mel, be nice. And don't be afraid, sweetheart. Don't be afraid.”

49

Amos was worse, all right. Chase didn't need to touch him to find that out. Mom leaned over him with a damp cloth. His ghostly white face was all that showed in the bed covered with multiple blankets. Breathing seemed harder than two hours ago. Open eyes gave the hint of a man wavering between hope and all-out terror. The pain must have grown worse.

Chase knelt by the bed and looked up at Mel. “Did we bring back anything in those medical supplies to help ease his discomfort?”