To Soar on Chromatic Wings - Part 1/5
Title: To Soar on Chromatic Wings
Author: deannawol
Artist: birddi
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing/Character: Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 42,000+
Artist who did your art: birddi did the artwork for this. Have embedded the artwork but will add a link once she posts. In the meantime, have a look at the mediafire gallery.
Kink(s): Techno, Cyber, Alpha Male, Claiming
Notes/Warnings:
Warnings first: As you can see from the pairing, this story deals with a relationship between two males and does include gay sex. This story is also particularly violent in places and has scenes of a non-consentual or dubious consentual nature. This may provoke a triggered reaction in some readers.
This is a futuristic AU, set against a dystopian future backdrop where corporations rule the world and Adam and Kris are pawns in the greater system. It's dark, it's gritty and at times, it's not a very nice place to live. But love conquers all, right?
This started off as a random idea after watching a video game trailer.But I didn’t have any reason to write it. But then Kink Big Bang came along and the muse bit. I really do owe a massive thank you to my beta and writing collaborator, aramuin , and also to M. who listened and offered feedback.
To birddi , my artist, I love your artwork and it fits so well with the story. And the soundtrack is perfect. Thank you so much for selecting me and I just hope that the final version of the story lives up to your arts.
Summary:
His name is Adam, and like his namesake he was the first of his kind. A true pinnacle of cyberhuman evolution. An exemplar of the most creative technology ever conceived. A mesh of metal and meat, perfect in every way. Except one. He is uncontrollable. Even now, teams of our finest hunters are tracking down even the vaguest of rumours. But until he decides to step into the daylight, we may sit and wait.
The problems started with permission, or the lack thereof. Our scientists presented hours of testimony, studies and deductions to the relevant authorities but the Ethics Board turned down all our proposals. But that one single denial should stand before the march of scientific discovery was anathema to us. Completely unthinkable. We knew better than they. We were Cerberus. We would not be constrained by their cowardice and superstition. But now, I fear that the history books will hold the judgment. And that it will not be in our favor.
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Definition: chro·mat·ic
Pronunciation Key: /kroʊˈmæt ɪk, krə-/ [kroh-mat-ik, kruh-]
Function: adjective
1:
1: of, relating to, or characterized by color or color phenomena or sensations
2: relating to colour perceived to have a saturation greater than zero
3: capable of being colored by staining agents < chromatic substances>
2: Music
1: progressing by semitones, esp. to a tone having the same letter name as in C to C sharp.
2: of, relating to, or based on the chromatic scale
3: relating to chords or harmonies based on non-harmonic tones.
4: involving a modification of the normal scale by the use of accidentals.
Chapter 1.
His name is Adam, and like his namesake he was the first of his kind. A true pinnacle of cyberhuman evolution. An exemplar of the most creative technology ever conceived. A mesh of metal and meat, perfect in every way. Except one. He is uncontrollable. Even now, teams of our finest hunters are tracking down even the vaguest of rumours. But until he decides to step into the daylight, we may sit and wait.
The problems started with permission, or the lack thereof. Our scientists presented hours of testimony, studies and deductions to the relevant authorities but the Ethics Board turned down all our proposals. But that one single denial should stand before the march of scientific discovery was anathema to us. Completely unthinkable. We knew better than they. We were Cerberus. We would not be constrained by their cowardice and superstition. But now, I fear that the history books will hold the judgment. And that it will not be in our favor.
We began with a simple supposition, I suppose. That man can be enhanced by the addition of machinery. Not a new concept, certainly, but we were proposing a technology far beyond the simple pacemaker first conceived a scarce century ago. A fusion, no more than that, a hybrid of the most innovative developments known to our world and the best that nature had to offer. Fusing both was a challenge that only the greatest minds could comprehend and even they were often baffled by the demands of this innovative new discipline. There were several unsalvageable outputs before he was chosen.
I do not know what it was that made him the single success but I wish we had a hundred more like him. I am, of course, a minority in my wishes. Even now, the corporation’s tame killers track for sight or trace of Adam. He is the target on our back. Proof of our failure to comply with the most basic of human rules. We thought we were God and played the part well. Should any of our rivals discover his existence, an example shall be made and I already know that my name will be high on the list, for I was father to this experiment. The voice that whispered in the night, persuading the various players to advance their pieces and damn the consequences.
And even though I know I shall answer for my part in this epic experiment, I regret nothing. Our hypothesis is proved. Our creation is perhaps the greatest of all time and for that, we are damned. May God have mercy on my soul, for I fear no one else will.
Chapter 2
> Start command: Pattern Track
> Pattern Track commenced
> Connecting --- LAX ATC
> Connection verified
> Starting cross reference
Adam stood atop {the the Cerberus Building, silhouetted against the night sky, wind and rain whipping at his clothes and hair. He looked out over the city with flat crystalline eyes, tracking the paths of the AV’s and drones below him as they buzzed around the city. There was a peace here that gave him comfort. No one to watch him. No one to catalogue his every movement or dissect him with their sharp gazes. Here, he could be himself. Here, he could be.
The microscopic people below him, fully visible to his enhanced optics, moving their way around the city, were oblivious to his presence. Often he wondered what it must be like, being one of them. Being normal. But it was like a dream now, covered over by what they had done to him. He flexed a hand, letting the skin shift from flesh to chrome and back again. They had stolen his life, his chance to live, love and replaced it with this half-life of barely sustainable existence. After breaking free, he had tried to find a place among the humans, but fate had a different path for him. News articles were circulated accusing him of the most heinous of crimes, stealing from him the modicum of normality that he had cloaked himself in. Hunter teams searched through the metropolis, leaving no stone unturned. He had no chance for sleep, no hope for rest and so he had taken to the skyline, hiding where no one looked, with only his software as a safety net.
> Warning: X12-H321 on inbound vector
> Identify? Y / N
> Y
> X12-H321 identified as Cerberus Technology Hunter Drone
> Possibility of detection: High
> Recommendation: Evasive Action
> Deploy Silica Gossamer? Y / N
Adam watched the drone as it circled rooftops and peered through skylights in its never ending search. In only a few seconds, it would be upon him, screaming his location to the monitors in the security platforms. The Hunter Teams would be dispatched, loaded with ordinance enough to demolish a city block. And they would be ruthless in their destruction. Mercy was a non-existent variable to their minds, intentionally excluded from their programming to ensure strict adherence to company directives. And even knowing that, he could not bring himself to enter the command. He glanced behind him, gaze lingering on the company logo beside the main helipad, a smile quirking his lips.
His location had been deliberately selected. He wanted to be spotted, wanted to be identified. Let them learn a lesson. He had been here, within striking distance and none of their machineries had even registered his existence. Within their grasp and still he was free. How that would sicken them.
The drone turned at last, its searchlight bathing him in washed out yellow and the LEDs on the shell flashed to red. The wind stole the alarm Adam knew to be sounding. Raising a hand, he waved at the flying disk and swan dived from the concrete high rise.
> Rapid shift in altitude detected
> Deploy silica gossamer? Y / N
> Y
With a thought, he could feel the charge running through him. From his extremities in until it settled between his shoulder blades. It hurt but he had anticipated that. Molten silica poured from the internal reservoirs to form rudimentary shapes. Lightning flashed between the droplets until they connected, spreading out until they were scarce more than a hairsbreadth thick, hardening quickly into sheer glass. A new window opened in Adam’s view, overlaid with controls. Shifting focus, he manipulated the controls, setting the variables with a thought until he felt the sharp pull of an updraft. He angled until he was gliding fast and true, with Cerberus behind him, fading into his nightmares.
> Warning: X12-H321 on inbound vector
> X12-H321 identified as Cerberus Technology Hunter Drone
> Recommendation: Evasive Action
> Warning: Target Lock Acquired by X12-H321
Adam’s eyes narrowed as he processed his Heads-Up-Display. Drones didn’t have weapons capability. Not even hunter drones. But how could it have a target lock without even basic… Something was wrong here. Adam dipped a wing, circling to face the drone and immediately regretted it. The front plate of the drone was folded back to reveal the barrel of a large caliber minigun. Adam spun again, folding his wings in and dived. The wind stole his breath and stung his eyes, but he could not spare any attention to his discomfort. Office windows flew past as he dropped, but his eyes were on the streets below. If he could just make it to street level, he would be able to evade the drone.
Pavement exploded below as he watched, shooting sparks upwards towards him as people scattered. He watched the altitude readout, counting down at alarming speed. Adam clenched his muscles, preparing for the sharp pull as he pushed his wings back out. Pain flashed through him. They moved as if making their way through honey but then the wind caught them and he felt the ripping and tearing of muscles not capable to take the sudden snap. He would have screamed if he’d had breath to spare.
> Ground + 100m
> Applying gyroscope
Adam felt sick as his body swung with a catlike grace he wasn’t feeling until his feet were pointing down. He spread his arms through force of will and supported his wings. Chancing a look above, he saw the muzzle flashes, bright through his semi-opaque wings. He cursed as he watched a flare of light drop towards him, growing brighter with every millisecond that passed.
The spider web cracks came first, spreading out from the wingtip where the shot had caught him down towards the hub. Next came the burning as phosphorus splashed through the cracks and down onto the delicate metal fibers that controlled the wings, superheating the metal and the heat transferring down to the reservoirs between his shoulder blades. From there, it spread through every molecule of his being, forging its way through to be the center of his thoughts. Pushed far beyond its specified parameters, the silica exploded out, slicing where it met flesh and leaving him open to the world. Logic and reason deserted him as he cried out. He buckled and broke with only ten meters to spare and then there was ground.
> Flat line detected
> Applying emergency treatment
> Epinephrine - 1mg deployed
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Testing
> No output
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Testing
> No output
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Sinus rhythm detected
Adam gasped oxygen as he sat bolt upright. His heart was beating and he was alive. He glanced above him and through blurry eyes could just make out the outline of the drone, still descending on him. He struggled to his feet and ran-fell into an alleyway. An unsecured doorway and he was out of the rain, but more importantly, out of the tracking radius of the drone.
But that wouldn’t be enough. Positional information would be relayed back to base and more drones would be sent, watching any entrance or exit. Following him if he moved. Micromoments of what life he had left categorized and transmitted, stored, saved and sorted for dissection and discussion. He could not let that stand.
Using the wall to prop himself up, he reached back to feel the shattered glass of his wings. A shard hung down, attached by nothing but a lone metal fiber. Pulling sharply, he felt the metal pop and a flash of pain as the sharp sides sliced open his palm. Adam closed his eyes and cleared his mind.
> Modulate autonomic response
> Endorphin booster deactivated
> Naloxone deployed
Pain flared through him as the endorphins were neutralized. His breath caught as his nerves lit up with pain. The world came into sharp focus and he glanced out again, sensors scanning for the drone.
> Target Acquired
> Elevation: 53 meters
> Angle: 84 degrees
> Calculating Force Required
> Calculating Vector Path
Adam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then, stepping out, he flung the shard blade. He cried out at the movement, collapsing against the solid wall as fire ran through his circuitry, diagnostic diagrams flashing shorts in front of his vision faster than light as he clung to consciousness. He’d pushed himself too far. Sparks erupted from the damaged drone as it dropped from the sky. He would have one minute forty three seconds before a replacement took up the watch.
> Endorphin booster activated
> Adrenal booster activated
> Coagulant deployed
> Coagulant valve damaged
> Warning: Systems in critical condition
> Recommended action: Initiate repair cycle. Y / N?
Adam pushed away from the wall, leaving a bloody handprint on the plaster. He turned his hand over. He watched the blood pooling. Gripping his shirt, he ripped a swatch free, wrapping it around his damaged hand. That would hold for now.
He needed somewhere to go. Somewhere that wasn’t here. Somewhere safe where he could let the repair cycle take his higher functions offline and start to repair the damage.
> Start Command: Map
> Scanning path
> Map overlay active
A blinking dot on a building plan indicated his current position. He took a millisecond to trace a route, giving the artificial endorphins just a little longer to work before he started. Basements, abandoned apartments, boiler rooms passed him by but he could not spare the processing power to take in the details. His scanners sorted through the RF and Network traffics around him, watching for keywords, pattern matching for danger. Four buildings, five and no escape. The timer was running out and his resolve redoubled.
Skidding to a stop beside an entrance, he frowned. His maps showed nothing here, no features, no doors, but yet there it was. His lip quirked. A sign, finally. The drones wouldn’t process the room, even if they did track him here. He would be safe for a short time. Long enough to repair his damaged circuitry, hopefully. He tried the door but it was locked.
> Lockpick engaged
His left index finger flowed from solid flesh to liquid chrome, holding a moment as he scanned the lock and then morphed itself to the required shape. It hardened and Adam slotted it into the lock and twisted, hearing a click as it disengaged. Adam slipped in and locked the door behind him.
> Network signals lost
> RF signals lost
> Searching…
> Signals not found
> Searching…
Adam shifted his visual spectrum to infrared, scanning the room. A small room, derelict by the look of it, and better than some of the hovels where he’d taken shelter. Boxes in the corner, old-fashioned cardboard, gave him shelter as he sat, back to the wall.
> Begin Command: Initiate Repair Cycle
> Repair Cycle Initiated
> Damage assessment:
> -- Neural Processing Unit: severe damage;
> -- Central Nervous System: severe damage;
> -- Silica Gossamer: inactive and deployed;
> -- Musco-skeletal damage: severe damage;
> -- Life-support Systems: online and functional;
> -- Blood loss: critical;
> Repair Cycle: Automatic mode engaged
> Beginning Repair
> Beginning Repair
> Beginning Repair
> Repair Error in Sector E45tI7; Abort / Retry / Fail?
> Retry
> Repair Error in Sector E45tI7; Abort / Retry / Fail?
Adam processed the readout before letting his head fall back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he cursed fate. The endorphins were slowly fading from his body, the adrenaline making his teeth clatter as he shook. He was done. One stunt too many but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It had been worth it. He’d rather be scrap metal than go back to being their tame automaton.
> Begin Command: Shutdown
> Shutdown sequence started
> Shutdown Error in Sector T445pK1; Abort / Retry / Fail?
Adam cursed, a thin stream of profanity learned from the streets passing his lips. This had not been the desired result. He wondered, bitterly, what else could go wrong?
> Error detected in Power Core
> Entering Power Saving Mode
Chapter 3
“Same to you, buddy,” Kris muttered as security pushed him out of the club.
That was his third club this week and truth be told, he was starting to despair of ever getting his shot at fame. Well, not even fame but just a shot at a paying gig or a job that didn’t involve cleaning up other people’s dirt. He knew he was good, better than most of the guys they did hire. He could sing, play guitar and piano, any style you wanted but just because he wasn’t all techno-ed up, they wouldn’t even give him time of day.
Wasn’t even like it was his fault. His parents hadn't been rich, just two farmers in a small Arkansas town - and even if the local preacher had been willing to forgive them the crime of cyberware - they couldn’t have afforded even the most basic of upgrades. And even if they could, it wasn’t just as simple as plugging stuff in. There were complications and cybershock and a thousand other things that could mess you up. Kris still thought it just wasn’t worth the risk.
It hadn’t really been an issue until he’d gotten to the city. Nothing worked here without an interface. Cars, phones, hell, even toasters needed some sort of input these days. So he was consigned to work an endless stream of dead end jobs while his dream slipped away.
Clubs wanted someone who could interface with their sound systems, plug right into their presets and just let rip. Guitars without strings, pianos without keys, it was a step too far away from where he’d grown up, where all you needed was a song in your heart and six strings to pick it out on. But that didn’t mean he was giving up, not while he still had breath.
He pushed open the door to his building, thankful that he lived in his almost derelict apartment, free from any sort of technology. It wasn’t the Plaza - more its rundown, beaten up cousin - but it was the best he was going to get on his paycheck. The place was quiet, everyone out at work or just plain out. Times like these, he savored the chance to pull out his guitar and play whatever came to mind, but truth was he needed more than that to calm down tonight. And he knew just what he needed. Reaching the staircase, instead of going up, he went down, skipping the steps two at a time. He had a hidey-hole down in the basement, where he kept the stuff too important to keep in some apartment with a crappy lock and a crappier door, where he could play whatever he wanted without his neighbors hammering on the walls. He pulled his guitar case off his back, searching through the front pocket for a key ring. Whistling, he made his way down the hall, jingling the keys as he went. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, balancing the guitar case so it didn’t slide off his shoulder as he groped for the light.
He winced as the florescent bulb flashed on, closing his eyes against the harsh glare. He left the door open a fraction as he propped the guitar case against the wall and made his way over to the cardboard boxes. He pulled the top box off and jumped a mile. There was someone behind his boxes. Kris put the box back down and slipping his keys into his fist. Last thing he wanted was to deal with some belligerent drunk. That’d just be the perfect end to the perfect damned day. He edged his way around the boxes, peering over the cardboard.
On the floor, back to the wall and kinda curled in on himself, was a man dressed in leather - real too by the look of it and thick. Kris nudged his foot but there was nothing. No movement. Not even a twitch. Kris moved a little closer, hunkering down. Didn’t smell like a drunk and leather wasn’t exactly what the city bums were wearing out in the gutter.
“Hey man,” Kris tried, “You okay?”
He ducked his head a little more, trying to get an angle to see the face under the black hair. Reaching in, he picked up one of the guys wrists, fingers trying to feel for a pulse. The skin under his fingers flashed silver and….
“Holy shit,” he stumbled backwards, scrambling until his back was to the other wall. He looked up, “Sorry, Momma, but…”
His eyes dropped until they were resting on the mass of - wires? snakes? Needles? ports? the hell? - that were coming outta the guy’s wrist. Whatever they were, they were moving to their own damn beat, searching him out. And damned if that wasn’t freaking him the hell out. He’d seen weird in his time, but man…! Felt like his heart was about ready to jump outta his throat. Eventually the wires coiled back in on themselves and disappear back into the silver. The silver flickered back to flesh and Kris was so damned confused right about then. He’d never seen anything even close to that before. Sure, he never got to see the flashy stuff but surely he would have heard about it on the news, or on the side of a bus. But even the guys he worked with and their millions of magazines didn’t have anything like this in them.
When his heart was back beating again, he stepped forward, a whole hell of a lot more carefully than he had the first time. He reached out, some little voice in the back of his mind that couldn’t have been his telling him that it was all gonna be okay. As his fingers skimmed the other man’s skin, it shimmered silver again, the cables - he was almost sure they were cables - reaching out, brushing over his skin. The connection ports at the ends of the cables shifted and changed, flowing from one to the other almost faster than he could blink. Wires blended, merged then separated as he watched. He was lost in the dance until he noticed a red gleam shine through one of the wires. Frowning, he followed it up until he saw the stream of blood down the skin towards the man’s hand. Another followed it and now Kris was worried.
Taking a chance, he reached out, tilting the guy’s head back and cursed. Under a layer of caking blood, Kris could make out a multitude of tiny cuts and the beginnings of a mass of bruises just starting to blossom along the guy’s chin.
“Jeez, you’ve been worked over, haven’t you?”
He reached out again, feeling for a pulse this time. Adam’s apple, then left a breath and…
The wires whipped out again, sharp-edged and lethal and Kris cried out in surprise. When he looked down at his hand, he could see a line of blood on it. And that’s when the pain started. Brushing a finger over the wound, he was surprised to see that it was little more than a scratch.
“Sample obtained.”
Kris jumped as the man spoke, his voice rich and higher pitched than he thought it would be but utterly devoid of emotion. It sounded like a computer's artificial accent, just a flat monotone and Kris frowned.
“You had me worried there, man,” Kris spoke quietly.
“DNA sequencing processed. Searching Cerberus local employee database,” the man continued, “No records found. Expanding to Cerberus international employee database. No records found. Expanding to all known Law Enforcement databases.”
The man’s eyes hadn’t opened and he was dead still, the only parts of him moving were his lips and his chest, rising and falling with his breathing. Kris backed away. This was getting a damned sight more freaky than he wanted to deal with. Hell, if his stuff wasn’t here, he’d have been diving for the stairs and calling the cops.
“No records found. Expanding to City Immigration records.”
Kris wiped the back of his hand again, trying not to scratch the itch that was playing around the cut. He wondered who the hell the guy was, or maybe that should be, what he was. Being one of the cyberneutrals in the city, Kris was used to being stopped for ID checks and profiled, but none of the cops had been able to eliminate entire databases that quickly. He was usually standing there, hands on the hood of the cruiser for at least ten minutes while the cops thumped the sides of the ID unit and cursed their connection speeds.
“Subject found,” he spoke again, “Kristopher Neil Allen, Identification Code: AKJKS85-2106-10440005N. No warrants outstanding. Cyberprofile null, last updated current minus three hours. No known affiliations to any organized or corporate syndicates. Private entry purchased. No corporate sponsorship. Employment profile: day worker. Threat level: nil.”
Kris had to admit that he was a little offended by that last bit. He’d taken self defense courses. He knew how to take care of himself. He wasn’t exactly the shy and retiring kind. He could do plenty of damage if he wanted.
“Temporary clearance granted.”
The ever-loving hell? The guy looked up at him, eyes intense.
“Kristopher Neil Allen, we require your assistance.”
Chapter 4
Now, four hours later, Kris still wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. He’d dragged the man upstairs and that itself had been an ordeal. ALPHA, or at least that was what the man-robot-man had called himself, weighed a ton and it had taken forever to get him up the five flights of stairs to Kris' tiny apartment. He’d just about had a heart-attack about five minutes in when he’d shifted ALPHA away from the wall and seen the massive pool of blood that had been hidden by the leather coat. He'd been tempted to call the cops or a med-crew but ALPHA had refused to even discuss it. Kris didn't agree but his momma hadn’t raised him to back out on anyone who needed help and he wasn’t about to make her ashamed of him now. Besides, it didn’t seem right to just leave the guy down there after he’d asked for help. Wasn’t Christian. So, he’d run upstairs, grabbed some sheets and raced back down. It would have gone easier with about three other people but he’d managed. But once he’d gotten ALPHA in, well… That was when the trouble really started.
Thanks to the obscene number of part time jobs he’d worked since the bus had dropped him off here, Kris had been on the basic first aid courses seven times, which was fine if you’d managed to catch yourself on the edge of a crate but absolutely no use if you were seriously injured. Part of him wanted to call the paramedic bots, guy looked to be able to afford it, but ALPHA's refusal had been emphatic. He didn’t know if it was just the fact that he’d been majorly creeped out down in the basement or the fact that there was just something off about that cold emotionless voice, but either way, he didn’t think that calling the ‘medics would be of any help. Rich guys didn’t hide in the basement. They didn’t just sit there and bleed. They… Well, Kris didn’t know exactly what they did but this wasn’t it. Maybe if he patched the guy up, he’d get some answers. Maybe. It was worth a shot anyway.
Grabbing his first aid kit from its place under the sink in the bathroom, he hurried back to ALPHA’s side, bringing a couple of sheets with him, just in case. They all went on the floor as he knelt beside the other man. He pulled ALPHA up until his was sitting, resting against Kris’ shoulder.
“The hell didn’t I notice those?” Kris breathed the words.
Glass wings, nearly transparent apart from a tracery of wires, were flush with his coat, folded down until they were nothing more than a gloss against the leather. Kris could see that the material was shredded where they broke through and stained with blood further down. The coat was junked. Kris reached for the scissors, shaking his head sadly. A coat like that wouldn't be easy to replace. Before the blade could touch the leather, it shifted into molten silver and disappeared, like it had been absorbed. Kris started back, stopping himself only by sheer force of will. The guy was cut up enough, didn’t need a klutz like him just dropping him on his face.
“I’m not usually this jumpy, I swear,” Kris tried to calm himself down by talking to ALPHA, “But you gotta admit, you seem to like giving me a shock. I won’t say that you’re the oddest guy I’ve ever met. That title is held by the guy who stands on the corner just wearing a synthplastic box around his middle and I don’t think he really wants to give it up any time soon.”
Kris touched the scissors to ALPHA’s shirt and the same thing happened. It just disappeared in a splash of silver leaving his back bare. Another tap at the leather pants and ALPHA was stripped down to his civvies. The wings seemed to melt and were absorbed as neatly as the silver liquid had been and Kris stared. He blinked once, twice and shook himself, forcing himself to push on. He had a job to do and it wasn’t going to get done just sitting here and gawking.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Kris continued, lowering ALPHA back to the ground, before rolling him over onto his front. “I’m all for the freedom to wear what you want, but I swear that box is getting smaller by the week. One of these days, we’re gonna be walking by there and they’re gonna be hauling him in for indecent exposure. Suppose that wouldn’t be too bad, though. It is getting to be cold in the evenings, so I guess a night in the cells would be...”
Kris nearly stopped breathing as he saw the mess that was ALPHA’s back. A hundred tiny cuts all oozing dark red surrounded four deep lacerations. He could read ALPHA’s pulse just by looking at the blood flowing.
“Jeez, man, I dunno if I’m gonna be able to…” Kris took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Panicking would be no good. He took a calming breath and slowly let it out. “Not sure I can do this but I’ll do my best. Just stay with me, yeah?”
Digging through his first aid kit, he dug out the antiseptic wipes and started to clean around the wounds. But as soon as he’d cleared a patch, the blood seeped back to cover the skin. He shivered. He hated blood, absolutely hated it but he couldn't just leave ALPHA to bleed out. He tossed the soaked wipe to one side and dug through the medkit again, searching for a small packet he knew was in there. Tearing the corner, he poured the contents over ALPHA’s back. The powder like substance sat like a miniature mountain for a second before flattening out and disappearing into the latticework of cuts.
Nanites, one of the best damned inventions of the century and one of the few concessions the church allowed. Kris shivered. He hated the thought of them crawling across his skin, all those tiny little mechanical legs, reminded him of insects crawling all over you and yeah, he knew it was all in his head but it still made his skin crawl.
There was a spark, then another, inside one of the deepest wounds.
“Unauthorized cybertech detected.”
“Hey now,” Kris spoke quietly, “None of that. How’re you gonna get better if you fight with the nano-tech?”
“Unauthorized cybertech detected. Invasion countermeasures activating.”
“It’s just standard over-the-counter healers. Nothing bad, I swear,” Kris sighed, “Look, I can’t do this on my own. I need these. You need these if you’re going to heal. You’re bleeding too badly for me to do anything else. So… just stop, you know, sparking at them.”
There was a pause and then, “Invasion countermeasures deactivating.”
Kris watched the sparks die out, relieved. Honest to God, he didn’t know exactly how the things worked but they did work. The glittering cloud sank right down into the wound and started building it all back up until they sat deactivated on the skin, ready to be wiped up and dumped. Kris only had a single shot sachet and that had been damned expensive but they worked. Well, they worked once the skin was broken. ALPHA would still be bruised to hell but at least he wouldn’t be dead of blood loss and Kris was starting to think that was a good thing. He sat back, just watching the progress and thinking.
Anyone sane would have run a mile because seriously anyone left for dead in a basement was either an outlaw or had done something to rile up a hornet’s nest. Right now, there could be any number of people closing in on his tiny apartment, out for blood. But ALPHA had asked for help and well, his momma didn’t raise him to turn his back on anyone who needed help. He didn’t have a lot in the world but he’d rather lose it all than make his momma ashamed of him. And there was something about this man in front of him. Something odd, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but he had a feeling his life had only just started to get interesting.
Kris leaned forward, nudging the nanites out of the way with a finger as he tried to figure out how much more time they needed.
“Kristopher Neil Allen, this unit has a question.”
Kris looked up from the silver nanites and smirked, “You know, you can call me Kris. Don’t need to say my full name. Makes me think I’m in trouble or something.”
There was a pause, “Alias created and promoted to preferred status.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Kris wasn’t exactly sure what ALPHA had just said but he guessed it was good. He’d never gotten beyond a junior computer class in high school, didn’t have the equipment to interface properly and for the first time in years, he regretted it. It was still a little odd that ALPHA hadn’t even twitched a muscle except to speak in that flat tone of voice, but Kris could guess that it was taking every ounce of strength to keep things ticking over given how torn up he’d been.
“Kris, this unit has a question.”
“Sure, ALPHA, what is it?”
“The Matrodyne Medic Nanites that were deployed repair organic matter. Is this assumption correct?”
Kris shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so. Haven’t heard of them working on anything else.”
“Do Matrodyne manufacture nanites designed to repair non-organic matter?”
Kris thought for a second, trying desperately to recall an advert, a news article, anything but there was nothing he could recall. “No, I don’t think so. There are a couple other companies that do. You want me to look it up?” Kris asked. “I got an old computer, slow as hell but it connects to the ‘Net.”
The wires flicked out, capturing his wrist and tightening painfully, “Network connections prohibited.”
“Okay, ALPHA, okay, I get it. No ‘Net, I get it.” He patted the other man on the arm, and the wires slowly released, “Jeez, someone is after you, aren’t they?” Kris ran a hand through his hair, “Who is it? Are they still coming after you? I got a few friends I can call…”
ALPHA’s voice was quiet when he spoke, “This unit does not have access to that information.”
“You don’t know?” Kris was surprised.
“Secondary Intelligence Unit does not have clearance to that information.”
“Secondary Intelligence what?” Kris asked, completely confused.
Okay, he was used to losing track of conversations about interfaces, customizations and cybertech but this was going way beyond even that. He hadn’t understood most of what had been said since ALPHA started talking to him and his ego was taking a hell of a knock.
“Primary Intelligence is currently in standby mode to conserve power and protect the core memory module. Technological and biological systems sustained major damage. Secondary Intelligence functions as a backup system and interface to the Artificial Intelligence Control Module,” ALPHA explained.
“So…” Kris closed his eyes, trying to work it out, “I’m talking to you but I’m not talking to you. You’re only part of… Oh boy, I’m starting to get a headache just thinking about this,” he thought back to conversations he’d had with friends as they planned their future upgrades, but he was drawing a blank. Only thing he could think of that even came close was one of those computer programs that seemed to think for itself. It kind of fit with what ALPHA was saying. Oh well, worth a shot, he guessed, “So, you’re an AI then?”
There was a moment of icy silence before ALPHA answered. “This unit is a Cerberus 6000 Emergency Interface and Secondary Control Intelligence Module. Functionality is far beyond what is understood by the current definition of an AI.”
Kris could hear traces of contempt filtering through the cold words and held up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, I, eh, I didn’t mean to, um… downgrade you? I’m just learning here. You know?” He shrugged, “On a good day, I understand my toaster.” Kris sat back on his heels, “So what can I do to help fix the rest of you then? Nanobots seem to be almost done with your, well, I guess your human bits.”
There was a pause before ALPHA spoke again, and was Kris imagining it but the voice seemed a little warmer this time, “This unit agrees with your assessment.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely not feeling up to tinkering around with your tech,” Kris bit his lip, “I mean, if I had to, I suppose I could try but…”
“No,” ALPHA replied suddenly, “This unit does not find that scenario advisable. Working from base data, it may be possible to change the function of the nanites currently engaged in repairs.”
“You can do that?” Kris asked.
“We are an extremely advanced system.”
Kris laughed, shaking his head, “You sure are. You need anything from me?”
“We will need to shut down all non-critical processes if this is to succeed,” ALPHA paused, “Speech is classified as a non-critical process, Kris.”
“Oh,” Kris’ shoulders slumped a little, “I guess it would be. That’s okay. You gotta do it if you want to fix yourself up. Don’t worry about it.”
The wires reached out, stroking over the skin of his arm, “This unit detects disappointment, sadness, melancholy.”
Kris jerked back a little, “What? No.”
“Facial scanning has mapped changes to your expression that are indicative of a negative mood shift. Also, a relaxation of muscles, an increase in pulse and blood pressure. Is this unit in error?”
Kris sighed, “No, I just… You gotta do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you’re back online.” He forced a smile, “Is there anything you need me to do for you while you’re working?”
Kris felt the weight of ALPHA’s attention on him and tried to stay upbeat, or at least, fake it enough to pass muster. ALPHA didn’t need Kris being childish, least not while he had so many problems of his own to deal with.
“At least let me get you up onto the bed while you work, yeah?”
“That is not necessary, Kris.”
Kris shrugged, “It’d make me feel a bit better. My Momma would skin me alive if she knew I’d just let you lie there.”
“Were there instances of domestic violence and / or assault committed by your family?” ALPHA asked.
“What? No. No, it’s an expression,” Kris thought how best to explain, “She wouldn’t be happy with me. You’re a guest, you get the bed. Rules of the house. You should be comfortable while you’re on the mend.”
“This unit does not feel discomfort.”
“Yeah, well,” Kris dug his heels in, “My house, my choice. If you’re gonna fight me on this, then well, you’re gonna have to stop me moving you.”
ALPHA seemed to consider that for a moment, before speaking, “Defensive weaponry is currently disabled. Lethal weaponry is functional. But this unit does not want to cause critical damage.”
“That makes two of us,” Kris muttered.
Getting a firm grip on the sheet, Kris pulled ALPHA closer to the bed. Lifting him by the shoulders, he dragged-pushed-bounced him up onto the bed before lifting his legs up. He was tall, Kris had to admit, taller than him by a fair margin to judge by the feet hanging over the end of the bed. He turned ALPHA’s face a little so that he wasn’t being smothered by the pillow. A strand of hair tickled the corner of the other man’s eye. Kris brushed it back, letting his finger brush the skin. It felt a little clammy and Kris was surprised.
“ALPHA?” he asked, as he felt the other man’s forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling okay? You know, apart from the damaged systems. You’re feeling warm.”
“Cooling modules are offline.”
“Oh,” Kris bit his lip, “Right. I should leave you to fix yourself.”
Kris stepped back a little but was stopped by the silver wires around his wrist. He hadn’t even felt them move this time.
“This unit is ...concerned, Kris. Probability of success is less than twenty percent. This unit may not be able to bring systems back on line.”
Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over the wires, “Hey now, none of that. You’re going to be fine. You’ll work your magic and those little nanites will get you all fixed up. No problem. Just gotta believe in yourself. And I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done.”
The wires constricted slightly, squeezing his wrist.
“Thank you, Kris.”
Kris smiled and nodded.
“Vocalization processes going offline.”
Kris watched as a layer of silver covered ALPHA’s back, catching the nanites as they sat on the skin. Slowly the liquid seemed to drain away, back into ALPHA’s skin just like he’d seen before, taking the nanites with it. He watched as muscles tensed and relaxed across ALPHA’s back, biting at his lower lip. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Chapter 5
> Core Systems Rebooting
> Secondary Intelligence Unit verifying setup
> Setup verified
> Primary Intelligence Unit verifying setup
> Setup verified
> Maintenance complete
> All systems online and verified
> Addressing updated secondary unit memory to primary system memory
> 10% complete; Estimated time: 5m 56s;
> Abort? Y/N
> N
> Prioritize transfer of information
> Transfer granted priority 1
> Estimated time: 2m 12s
> Adding new cyberware to internal inventory
> Adding Matrodyne Bio Medic Nanites (SN: QR83TN-Beta-7)
> Adding Matrodyne Custom Medic Nanites (SN: CM93AD-Alpha-9)
> Silica Gossamer circuits repaired
> Silica Gossamer set to standby mode
> Silica reservoirs at 70%
> Exiting standby mode
> Sensors online and scanning
Adam woke slowly, the diagnostics running through his consciousness as he stretched. A low sequence of subtly changing pitches and frequencies pinged his sensors from ten meters away. It took him a microsecond to attach a word to the sounds: Humming. There was someone in close proximity. He opened his eyes, letting the polarizing lenses protect him from the sharp light sneaking in through the window. He scanned the room, then widened the focus to include the rest of the apartment, cross checking with stored schematics in his memory but with no results. Every room in every building Cerberus owned or was affiliated with was contained within his architectural memory. But that did not mean that he was safe. For now, there was just one human in the apartment with him, but he could detect the echoed sounds of movement from outside this structure.
With a thought, he brought his defensive weaponry online. Still just over a minute left until his memory files were synched. And until then, he couldn’t even query his Assisted Learning Platform Heuristic Algorithm, aliased ALPHA for ease. Escape scenarios flashed across his mind, each aborted due to lack of information.
Smells passed his olfactory processors; beef steak passing the medium cooking point, ground pepper, dairy cream, mustard, wine - white, oil - vegetable, seasonings, potato. Real food, an underappreciated resource. He wasn’t hungry, he didn’t experience hunger as a standard human would, but the smells were making him wish that they had augmented his sense of taste to the degree that they had enhanced his other senses. However, he would probably be denied even scraps of this meal. Humans did not feed things like him.
> Information transfer complete
> Processing information
Adam paused the process, rising silently from the surface on which he was laying. He was vulnerable here, exposed. He needed to get more information, and not just what ALPHA had stored. His footsteps were whisper quiet as he padded to the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. There, a man, the source of the humming, poked and prodded the food on the stove.
> Identify subject
> Subject identified as Kristopher Neil Allen, alias Kris.
> Assigned role: Caregiver
Adam’s eyebrow arched as he processed the information. Caregiver? How had that happened? Adam had revoked all caregiver clearances added during his programming. For there to be an entry in his code that he had not previously seen…
His hand flashed silver as he created a mono-edged knife from his reactive polymer. Almost immediately, the weapon was reabsorbed. Adam looked down, startled. He ran a diagnostic quickly but no errors were displayed. He ran the program again watching as the knife formed. But this time, it disappeared before it could fully solidify.
> Priority Interrupt
> Replication program disabled
> Authority: ALPHA
> Replication program transferred to secondary intelligence control
> Authority: ALPHA
Adam blinked. ALPHA had just locked him out of his own functionality. He could feel anger rising through him. Somehow this Kris must have done something to ALPHA to get ALPHA to turn against him.
> Begin message from ALPHA
> Incorrect situational assessment
He stopped, flashing a query to ALPHA.
> Begin message from ALPHA
> Kris oversaw maintenance cycles
> Removed us from the basement of this building to secured location
> Installed cyberware designed to reverse biological damage
> Suggestion: Review transferred memory files
Adam growled in his throat and was about to return a rather caustic remark when Kris spotted him, almost dropping the pot that he was holding as he jumped.
“Jeez,” he put the pot down and took a couple of deep breaths. “I didn’t see you there.” He walked closer, “Wow, you’re big.”
Adam noted the widening of eyes and the flush of the other man’s cheeks as realization hit him.
“Tall, I mean tall,” Kris stumbled over his words, “You’re okay? All fixed up?”
Adam didn’t answer.
“Oh hell, ALPHA, say something. Do I need to go out and get anything? Were there enough nanites?”
“ALPHA is fully functional,” Adam answered at last, “As am I.”
Chapter 6
Kris struggled to pull his eyes away from the chiseled chest and almost sculpted abs and instead found himself staring into the dark blue eyes half hidden by the spiky black hair that covered most of the taller man’s forehead. Sure, he’d seen them before but they’d been flat then, no power, no intensity behind them. But now? Now, there was a spark of amusement and Kris could feel his cheeks heating up.
“ALPHA?”
“Not quite.”
There was a slightly mocking tone to the voice that made Kris shrink a little. He took a step back, deeper into the kitchen.
“Well, if you’re not quite ALPHA, then who are you?” Kris asked, “Did something go wrong?”
“Nothing went wrong,” ALPHA, no, not ALPHA answered.
This was like trying to get answers out of a damned wall, and Kris was starting to get annoyed. He’d quite liked ALPHA. There may not have been emotion there, or at least he didn’t think there was to start with, but by the end, he’d thought that they were, well, friends. Maybe. There was the start of something there anyway. But this new whoever this was, well, he was kind of an ass. And if he wanted to play word games, then he could play them with himself.
Kris turned and went back to his stove, pulling out the grill pan and turning the steaks sitting there. He brushed them lightly with the warm peppercorn sauce he’d made - his momma’s recipe and put them back under the heat. Cooking was one of the few pleasures you didn’t need cyberware to enjoy, even if getting natural food took most of his tiny paycheck.
He could feel the other man’s eyes on him as he rescued the fries from the oil and dumped them on some paper to soak up the excess. He pulled two plates from the cupboard and took the steaks out from the grill, putting one on each plate and then divided the fries, putting more on one plate than the other. Placing both plates on the table, he turned back and poured the peppercorn sauce into a gravy boat. Picking up condiments and cutlery on his way past, he sat at the table. The plate with less fries was his.
He flicked a glance up at the man standing in the doorway as he spoke, “They didn’t have any good vegetables in the store I go to, so this is going to have to do.”
The man didn’t move.
“You should eat up before it gets cold.”
A few seconds passed and Kris bit his lip. He wasn’t a bad cook. Not as good as his mom, but he hadn’t killed himself yet. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Eventually, the man moved away from the doorway and sat down opposite him. He poked tentatively at the meat and the fries and Kris could swear he saw the guy sniffing.
“Didn’t know if you wanted sauce,” Kris picked up the gravy boat and tipped it until the sauce flowed out over his plate, “I like a little just poured over my steak, but if you don’t, that’s fine too.”
Watching, Kris noticed the other man replicate his actions, pouring out just enough to wet the steak but not enough to overpower the taste of the meat. Kris tucked in, cutting his steak and savoring each bite.
“Why are you doing this?”
Kris stopped chewing and swallowed, “Doing what?”
The man gestured at the table, “What is the purpose of this? What is your objective?”
Shrugging, Kris put his knife and fork down, “My momma always said that healing wasn’t done until you got a good meal in you. Didn’t do me any harm growing up so I figured I’d take the chance. You do eat, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered, poking the meat with a fork, “But nothing like this.”
“Yeah, well, it’s nothing,” Kris blushed again.
The other man paused, tilting his head slightly as he looked at Kris, “You are a strange person.”
Kris tried to hold in his laugh at that particular pronouncement but failed, “You’re not exactly standard yourself.” He frowned, “Hey if you’re not ALPHA, what do I call you?”
There was another pause and finally the man spoke, “You may call me Adam.”
“Adam?” Kris tested the name and nodded. It kind of suited him. “Well, Adam, eat up before it gets cold.”
Next Part
Author: deannawol
Artist: birddi
Fandom: American Idol
Pairing/Character: Adam/Kris
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 42,000+
Artist who did your art: birddi did the artwork for this. Have embedded the artwork but will add a link once she posts. In the meantime, have a look at the mediafire gallery.
Kink(s): Techno, Cyber, Alpha Male, Claiming
Notes/Warnings:
Warnings first: As you can see from the pairing, this story deals with a relationship between two males and does include gay sex. This story is also particularly violent in places and has scenes of a non-consentual or dubious consentual nature. This may provoke a triggered reaction in some readers.
This is a futuristic AU, set against a dystopian future backdrop where corporations rule the world and Adam and Kris are pawns in the greater system. It's dark, it's gritty and at times, it's not a very nice place to live. But love conquers all, right?
This started off as a random idea after watching a video game trailer.But I didn’t have any reason to write it. But then Kink Big Bang came along and the muse bit. I really do owe a massive thank you to my beta and writing collaborator, aramuin , and also to M. who listened and offered feedback.
To birddi , my artist, I love your artwork and it fits so well with the story. And the soundtrack is perfect. Thank you so much for selecting me and I just hope that the final version of the story lives up to your arts.
Summary:
His name is Adam, and like his namesake he was the first of his kind. A true pinnacle of cyberhuman evolution. An exemplar of the most creative technology ever conceived. A mesh of metal and meat, perfect in every way. Except one. He is uncontrollable. Even now, teams of our finest hunters are tracking down even the vaguest of rumours. But until he decides to step into the daylight, we may sit and wait.
The problems started with permission, or the lack thereof. Our scientists presented hours of testimony, studies and deductions to the relevant authorities but the Ethics Board turned down all our proposals. But that one single denial should stand before the march of scientific discovery was anathema to us. Completely unthinkable. We knew better than they. We were Cerberus. We would not be constrained by their cowardice and superstition. But now, I fear that the history books will hold the judgment. And that it will not be in our favor.
Click to download the PDF
Definition: chro·mat·ic
Pronunciation Key: /kroʊˈmæt ɪk, krə-/ [kroh-mat-ik, kruh-]
Function: adjective
1:
1: of, relating to, or characterized by color or color phenomena or sensations
2: relating to colour perceived to have a saturation greater than zero
3: capable of being colored by staining agents < chromatic substances>
2: Music
1: progressing by semitones, esp. to a tone having the same letter name as in C to C sharp.
2: of, relating to, or based on the chromatic scale
3: relating to chords or harmonies based on non-harmonic tones.
4: involving a modification of the normal scale by the use of accidentals.
Chapter 1.
His name is Adam, and like his namesake he was the first of his kind. A true pinnacle of cyberhuman evolution. An exemplar of the most creative technology ever conceived. A mesh of metal and meat, perfect in every way. Except one. He is uncontrollable. Even now, teams of our finest hunters are tracking down even the vaguest of rumours. But until he decides to step into the daylight, we may sit and wait.
The problems started with permission, or the lack thereof. Our scientists presented hours of testimony, studies and deductions to the relevant authorities but the Ethics Board turned down all our proposals. But that one single denial should stand before the march of scientific discovery was anathema to us. Completely unthinkable. We knew better than they. We were Cerberus. We would not be constrained by their cowardice and superstition. But now, I fear that the history books will hold the judgment. And that it will not be in our favor.
We began with a simple supposition, I suppose. That man can be enhanced by the addition of machinery. Not a new concept, certainly, but we were proposing a technology far beyond the simple pacemaker first conceived a scarce century ago. A fusion, no more than that, a hybrid of the most innovative developments known to our world and the best that nature had to offer. Fusing both was a challenge that only the greatest minds could comprehend and even they were often baffled by the demands of this innovative new discipline. There were several unsalvageable outputs before he was chosen.
I do not know what it was that made him the single success but I wish we had a hundred more like him. I am, of course, a minority in my wishes. Even now, the corporation’s tame killers track for sight or trace of Adam. He is the target on our back. Proof of our failure to comply with the most basic of human rules. We thought we were God and played the part well. Should any of our rivals discover his existence, an example shall be made and I already know that my name will be high on the list, for I was father to this experiment. The voice that whispered in the night, persuading the various players to advance their pieces and damn the consequences.
And even though I know I shall answer for my part in this epic experiment, I regret nothing. Our hypothesis is proved. Our creation is perhaps the greatest of all time and for that, we are damned. May God have mercy on my soul, for I fear no one else will.
Chapter 2
> Start command: Pattern Track
> Pattern Track commenced
> Connecting --- LAX ATC
> Connection verified
> Starting cross reference
Adam stood atop {the the Cerberus Building, silhouetted against the night sky, wind and rain whipping at his clothes and hair. He looked out over the city with flat crystalline eyes, tracking the paths of the AV’s and drones below him as they buzzed around the city. There was a peace here that gave him comfort. No one to watch him. No one to catalogue his every movement or dissect him with their sharp gazes. Here, he could be himself. Here, he could be.
The microscopic people below him, fully visible to his enhanced optics, moving their way around the city, were oblivious to his presence. Often he wondered what it must be like, being one of them. Being normal. But it was like a dream now, covered over by what they had done to him. He flexed a hand, letting the skin shift from flesh to chrome and back again. They had stolen his life, his chance to live, love and replaced it with this half-life of barely sustainable existence. After breaking free, he had tried to find a place among the humans, but fate had a different path for him. News articles were circulated accusing him of the most heinous of crimes, stealing from him the modicum of normality that he had cloaked himself in. Hunter teams searched through the metropolis, leaving no stone unturned. He had no chance for sleep, no hope for rest and so he had taken to the skyline, hiding where no one looked, with only his software as a safety net.
> Warning: X12-H321 on inbound vector
> Identify? Y / N
> Y
> X12-H321 identified as Cerberus Technology Hunter Drone
> Possibility of detection: High
> Recommendation: Evasive Action
> Deploy Silica Gossamer? Y / N
Adam watched the drone as it circled rooftops and peered through skylights in its never ending search. In only a few seconds, it would be upon him, screaming his location to the monitors in the security platforms. The Hunter Teams would be dispatched, loaded with ordinance enough to demolish a city block. And they would be ruthless in their destruction. Mercy was a non-existent variable to their minds, intentionally excluded from their programming to ensure strict adherence to company directives. And even knowing that, he could not bring himself to enter the command. He glanced behind him, gaze lingering on the company logo beside the main helipad, a smile quirking his lips.
His location had been deliberately selected. He wanted to be spotted, wanted to be identified. Let them learn a lesson. He had been here, within striking distance and none of their machineries had even registered his existence. Within their grasp and still he was free. How that would sicken them.
The drone turned at last, its searchlight bathing him in washed out yellow and the LEDs on the shell flashed to red. The wind stole the alarm Adam knew to be sounding. Raising a hand, he waved at the flying disk and swan dived from the concrete high rise.
> Rapid shift in altitude detected
> Deploy silica gossamer? Y / N
> Y
With a thought, he could feel the charge running through him. From his extremities in until it settled between his shoulder blades. It hurt but he had anticipated that. Molten silica poured from the internal reservoirs to form rudimentary shapes. Lightning flashed between the droplets until they connected, spreading out until they were scarce more than a hairsbreadth thick, hardening quickly into sheer glass. A new window opened in Adam’s view, overlaid with controls. Shifting focus, he manipulated the controls, setting the variables with a thought until he felt the sharp pull of an updraft. He angled until he was gliding fast and true, with Cerberus behind him, fading into his nightmares.
> Warning: X12-H321 on inbound vector
> X12-H321 identified as Cerberus Technology Hunter Drone
> Recommendation: Evasive Action
> Warning: Target Lock Acquired by X12-H321
Adam’s eyes narrowed as he processed his Heads-Up-Display. Drones didn’t have weapons capability. Not even hunter drones. But how could it have a target lock without even basic… Something was wrong here. Adam dipped a wing, circling to face the drone and immediately regretted it. The front plate of the drone was folded back to reveal the barrel of a large caliber minigun. Adam spun again, folding his wings in and dived. The wind stole his breath and stung his eyes, but he could not spare any attention to his discomfort. Office windows flew past as he dropped, but his eyes were on the streets below. If he could just make it to street level, he would be able to evade the drone.
Pavement exploded below as he watched, shooting sparks upwards towards him as people scattered. He watched the altitude readout, counting down at alarming speed. Adam clenched his muscles, preparing for the sharp pull as he pushed his wings back out. Pain flashed through him. They moved as if making their way through honey but then the wind caught them and he felt the ripping and tearing of muscles not capable to take the sudden snap. He would have screamed if he’d had breath to spare.
> Ground + 100m
> Applying gyroscope
Adam felt sick as his body swung with a catlike grace he wasn’t feeling until his feet were pointing down. He spread his arms through force of will and supported his wings. Chancing a look above, he saw the muzzle flashes, bright through his semi-opaque wings. He cursed as he watched a flare of light drop towards him, growing brighter with every millisecond that passed.
The spider web cracks came first, spreading out from the wingtip where the shot had caught him down towards the hub. Next came the burning as phosphorus splashed through the cracks and down onto the delicate metal fibers that controlled the wings, superheating the metal and the heat transferring down to the reservoirs between his shoulder blades. From there, it spread through every molecule of his being, forging its way through to be the center of his thoughts. Pushed far beyond its specified parameters, the silica exploded out, slicing where it met flesh and leaving him open to the world. Logic and reason deserted him as he cried out. He buckled and broke with only ten meters to spare and then there was ground.
> Flat line detected
> Applying emergency treatment
> Epinephrine - 1mg deployed
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Testing
> No output
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Testing
> No output
> Starting internal shock cycle
> Shock administered
> Sinus rhythm detected
Adam gasped oxygen as he sat bolt upright. His heart was beating and he was alive. He glanced above him and through blurry eyes could just make out the outline of the drone, still descending on him. He struggled to his feet and ran-fell into an alleyway. An unsecured doorway and he was out of the rain, but more importantly, out of the tracking radius of the drone.
But that wouldn’t be enough. Positional information would be relayed back to base and more drones would be sent, watching any entrance or exit. Following him if he moved. Micromoments of what life he had left categorized and transmitted, stored, saved and sorted for dissection and discussion. He could not let that stand.
Using the wall to prop himself up, he reached back to feel the shattered glass of his wings. A shard hung down, attached by nothing but a lone metal fiber. Pulling sharply, he felt the metal pop and a flash of pain as the sharp sides sliced open his palm. Adam closed his eyes and cleared his mind.
> Modulate autonomic response
> Endorphin booster deactivated
> Naloxone deployed
Pain flared through him as the endorphins were neutralized. His breath caught as his nerves lit up with pain. The world came into sharp focus and he glanced out again, sensors scanning for the drone.
> Target Acquired
> Elevation: 53 meters
> Angle: 84 degrees
> Calculating Force Required
> Calculating Vector Path
Adam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then, stepping out, he flung the shard blade. He cried out at the movement, collapsing against the solid wall as fire ran through his circuitry, diagnostic diagrams flashing shorts in front of his vision faster than light as he clung to consciousness. He’d pushed himself too far. Sparks erupted from the damaged drone as it dropped from the sky. He would have one minute forty three seconds before a replacement took up the watch.
> Endorphin booster activated
> Adrenal booster activated
> Coagulant deployed
> Coagulant valve damaged
> Warning: Systems in critical condition
> Recommended action: Initiate repair cycle. Y / N?
Adam pushed away from the wall, leaving a bloody handprint on the plaster. He turned his hand over. He watched the blood pooling. Gripping his shirt, he ripped a swatch free, wrapping it around his damaged hand. That would hold for now.
He needed somewhere to go. Somewhere that wasn’t here. Somewhere safe where he could let the repair cycle take his higher functions offline and start to repair the damage.
> Start Command: Map
> Scanning path
> Map overlay active
A blinking dot on a building plan indicated his current position. He took a millisecond to trace a route, giving the artificial endorphins just a little longer to work before he started. Basements, abandoned apartments, boiler rooms passed him by but he could not spare the processing power to take in the details. His scanners sorted through the RF and Network traffics around him, watching for keywords, pattern matching for danger. Four buildings, five and no escape. The timer was running out and his resolve redoubled.
Skidding to a stop beside an entrance, he frowned. His maps showed nothing here, no features, no doors, but yet there it was. His lip quirked. A sign, finally. The drones wouldn’t process the room, even if they did track him here. He would be safe for a short time. Long enough to repair his damaged circuitry, hopefully. He tried the door but it was locked.
> Lockpick engaged
His left index finger flowed from solid flesh to liquid chrome, holding a moment as he scanned the lock and then morphed itself to the required shape. It hardened and Adam slotted it into the lock and twisted, hearing a click as it disengaged. Adam slipped in and locked the door behind him.
> Network signals lost
> RF signals lost
> Searching…
> Signals not found
> Searching…
Adam shifted his visual spectrum to infrared, scanning the room. A small room, derelict by the look of it, and better than some of the hovels where he’d taken shelter. Boxes in the corner, old-fashioned cardboard, gave him shelter as he sat, back to the wall.
> Begin Command: Initiate Repair Cycle
> Repair Cycle Initiated
> Damage assessment:
> -- Neural Processing Unit: severe damage;
> -- Central Nervous System: severe damage;
> -- Silica Gossamer: inactive and deployed;
> -- Musco-skeletal damage: severe damage;
> -- Life-support Systems: online and functional;
> -- Blood loss: critical;
> Repair Cycle: Automatic mode engaged
> Beginning Repair
> Beginning Repair
> Beginning Repair
> Repair Error in Sector E45tI7; Abort / Retry / Fail?
> Retry
> Repair Error in Sector E45tI7; Abort / Retry / Fail?
Adam processed the readout before letting his head fall back against the wall. Closing his eyes, he cursed fate. The endorphins were slowly fading from his body, the adrenaline making his teeth clatter as he shook. He was done. One stunt too many but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It had been worth it. He’d rather be scrap metal than go back to being their tame automaton.
> Begin Command: Shutdown
> Shutdown sequence started
> Shutdown Error in Sector T445pK1; Abort / Retry / Fail?
Adam cursed, a thin stream of profanity learned from the streets passing his lips. This had not been the desired result. He wondered, bitterly, what else could go wrong?
> Error detected in Power Core
> Entering Power Saving Mode
Chapter 3
“Same to you, buddy,” Kris muttered as security pushed him out of the club.
That was his third club this week and truth be told, he was starting to despair of ever getting his shot at fame. Well, not even fame but just a shot at a paying gig or a job that didn’t involve cleaning up other people’s dirt. He knew he was good, better than most of the guys they did hire. He could sing, play guitar and piano, any style you wanted but just because he wasn’t all techno-ed up, they wouldn’t even give him time of day.
Wasn’t even like it was his fault. His parents hadn't been rich, just two farmers in a small Arkansas town - and even if the local preacher had been willing to forgive them the crime of cyberware - they couldn’t have afforded even the most basic of upgrades. And even if they could, it wasn’t just as simple as plugging stuff in. There were complications and cybershock and a thousand other things that could mess you up. Kris still thought it just wasn’t worth the risk.
It hadn’t really been an issue until he’d gotten to the city. Nothing worked here without an interface. Cars, phones, hell, even toasters needed some sort of input these days. So he was consigned to work an endless stream of dead end jobs while his dream slipped away.
Clubs wanted someone who could interface with their sound systems, plug right into their presets and just let rip. Guitars without strings, pianos without keys, it was a step too far away from where he’d grown up, where all you needed was a song in your heart and six strings to pick it out on. But that didn’t mean he was giving up, not while he still had breath.
He pushed open the door to his building, thankful that he lived in his almost derelict apartment, free from any sort of technology. It wasn’t the Plaza - more its rundown, beaten up cousin - but it was the best he was going to get on his paycheck. The place was quiet, everyone out at work or just plain out. Times like these, he savored the chance to pull out his guitar and play whatever came to mind, but truth was he needed more than that to calm down tonight. And he knew just what he needed. Reaching the staircase, instead of going up, he went down, skipping the steps two at a time. He had a hidey-hole down in the basement, where he kept the stuff too important to keep in some apartment with a crappy lock and a crappier door, where he could play whatever he wanted without his neighbors hammering on the walls. He pulled his guitar case off his back, searching through the front pocket for a key ring. Whistling, he made his way down the hall, jingling the keys as he went. Unlocking the door, he pushed it open, balancing the guitar case so it didn’t slide off his shoulder as he groped for the light.
He winced as the florescent bulb flashed on, closing his eyes against the harsh glare. He left the door open a fraction as he propped the guitar case against the wall and made his way over to the cardboard boxes. He pulled the top box off and jumped a mile. There was someone behind his boxes. Kris put the box back down and slipping his keys into his fist. Last thing he wanted was to deal with some belligerent drunk. That’d just be the perfect end to the perfect damned day. He edged his way around the boxes, peering over the cardboard.
On the floor, back to the wall and kinda curled in on himself, was a man dressed in leather - real too by the look of it and thick. Kris nudged his foot but there was nothing. No movement. Not even a twitch. Kris moved a little closer, hunkering down. Didn’t smell like a drunk and leather wasn’t exactly what the city bums were wearing out in the gutter.
“Hey man,” Kris tried, “You okay?”
He ducked his head a little more, trying to get an angle to see the face under the black hair. Reaching in, he picked up one of the guys wrists, fingers trying to feel for a pulse. The skin under his fingers flashed silver and….
“Holy shit,” he stumbled backwards, scrambling until his back was to the other wall. He looked up, “Sorry, Momma, but…”
His eyes dropped until they were resting on the mass of - wires? snakes? Needles? ports? the hell? - that were coming outta the guy’s wrist. Whatever they were, they were moving to their own damn beat, searching him out. And damned if that wasn’t freaking him the hell out. He’d seen weird in his time, but man…! Felt like his heart was about ready to jump outta his throat. Eventually the wires coiled back in on themselves and disappear back into the silver. The silver flickered back to flesh and Kris was so damned confused right about then. He’d never seen anything even close to that before. Sure, he never got to see the flashy stuff but surely he would have heard about it on the news, or on the side of a bus. But even the guys he worked with and their millions of magazines didn’t have anything like this in them.
When his heart was back beating again, he stepped forward, a whole hell of a lot more carefully than he had the first time. He reached out, some little voice in the back of his mind that couldn’t have been his telling him that it was all gonna be okay. As his fingers skimmed the other man’s skin, it shimmered silver again, the cables - he was almost sure they were cables - reaching out, brushing over his skin. The connection ports at the ends of the cables shifted and changed, flowing from one to the other almost faster than he could blink. Wires blended, merged then separated as he watched. He was lost in the dance until he noticed a red gleam shine through one of the wires. Frowning, he followed it up until he saw the stream of blood down the skin towards the man’s hand. Another followed it and now Kris was worried.
Taking a chance, he reached out, tilting the guy’s head back and cursed. Under a layer of caking blood, Kris could make out a multitude of tiny cuts and the beginnings of a mass of bruises just starting to blossom along the guy’s chin.
“Jeez, you’ve been worked over, haven’t you?”
He reached out again, feeling for a pulse this time. Adam’s apple, then left a breath and…
The wires whipped out again, sharp-edged and lethal and Kris cried out in surprise. When he looked down at his hand, he could see a line of blood on it. And that’s when the pain started. Brushing a finger over the wound, he was surprised to see that it was little more than a scratch.
“Sample obtained.”
Kris jumped as the man spoke, his voice rich and higher pitched than he thought it would be but utterly devoid of emotion. It sounded like a computer's artificial accent, just a flat monotone and Kris frowned.
“You had me worried there, man,” Kris spoke quietly.
“DNA sequencing processed. Searching Cerberus local employee database,” the man continued, “No records found. Expanding to Cerberus international employee database. No records found. Expanding to all known Law Enforcement databases.”
The man’s eyes hadn’t opened and he was dead still, the only parts of him moving were his lips and his chest, rising and falling with his breathing. Kris backed away. This was getting a damned sight more freaky than he wanted to deal with. Hell, if his stuff wasn’t here, he’d have been diving for the stairs and calling the cops.
“No records found. Expanding to City Immigration records.”
Kris wiped the back of his hand again, trying not to scratch the itch that was playing around the cut. He wondered who the hell the guy was, or maybe that should be, what he was. Being one of the cyberneutrals in the city, Kris was used to being stopped for ID checks and profiled, but none of the cops had been able to eliminate entire databases that quickly. He was usually standing there, hands on the hood of the cruiser for at least ten minutes while the cops thumped the sides of the ID unit and cursed their connection speeds.
“Subject found,” he spoke again, “Kristopher Neil Allen, Identification Code: AKJKS85-2106-10440005N. No warrants outstanding. Cyberprofile null, last updated current minus three hours. No known affiliations to any organized or corporate syndicates. Private entry purchased. No corporate sponsorship. Employment profile: day worker. Threat level: nil.”
Kris had to admit that he was a little offended by that last bit. He’d taken self defense courses. He knew how to take care of himself. He wasn’t exactly the shy and retiring kind. He could do plenty of damage if he wanted.
“Temporary clearance granted.”
The ever-loving hell? The guy looked up at him, eyes intense.
“Kristopher Neil Allen, we require your assistance.”
Chapter 4
Now, four hours later, Kris still wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. He’d dragged the man upstairs and that itself had been an ordeal. ALPHA, or at least that was what the man-robot-man had called himself, weighed a ton and it had taken forever to get him up the five flights of stairs to Kris' tiny apartment. He’d just about had a heart-attack about five minutes in when he’d shifted ALPHA away from the wall and seen the massive pool of blood that had been hidden by the leather coat. He'd been tempted to call the cops or a med-crew but ALPHA had refused to even discuss it. Kris didn't agree but his momma hadn’t raised him to back out on anyone who needed help and he wasn’t about to make her ashamed of him now. Besides, it didn’t seem right to just leave the guy down there after he’d asked for help. Wasn’t Christian. So, he’d run upstairs, grabbed some sheets and raced back down. It would have gone easier with about three other people but he’d managed. But once he’d gotten ALPHA in, well… That was when the trouble really started.
Thanks to the obscene number of part time jobs he’d worked since the bus had dropped him off here, Kris had been on the basic first aid courses seven times, which was fine if you’d managed to catch yourself on the edge of a crate but absolutely no use if you were seriously injured. Part of him wanted to call the paramedic bots, guy looked to be able to afford it, but ALPHA's refusal had been emphatic. He didn’t know if it was just the fact that he’d been majorly creeped out down in the basement or the fact that there was just something off about that cold emotionless voice, but either way, he didn’t think that calling the ‘medics would be of any help. Rich guys didn’t hide in the basement. They didn’t just sit there and bleed. They… Well, Kris didn’t know exactly what they did but this wasn’t it. Maybe if he patched the guy up, he’d get some answers. Maybe. It was worth a shot anyway.
Grabbing his first aid kit from its place under the sink in the bathroom, he hurried back to ALPHA’s side, bringing a couple of sheets with him, just in case. They all went on the floor as he knelt beside the other man. He pulled ALPHA up until his was sitting, resting against Kris’ shoulder.
“The hell didn’t I notice those?” Kris breathed the words.
Glass wings, nearly transparent apart from a tracery of wires, were flush with his coat, folded down until they were nothing more than a gloss against the leather. Kris could see that the material was shredded where they broke through and stained with blood further down. The coat was junked. Kris reached for the scissors, shaking his head sadly. A coat like that wouldn't be easy to replace. Before the blade could touch the leather, it shifted into molten silver and disappeared, like it had been absorbed. Kris started back, stopping himself only by sheer force of will. The guy was cut up enough, didn’t need a klutz like him just dropping him on his face.
“I’m not usually this jumpy, I swear,” Kris tried to calm himself down by talking to ALPHA, “But you gotta admit, you seem to like giving me a shock. I won’t say that you’re the oddest guy I’ve ever met. That title is held by the guy who stands on the corner just wearing a synthplastic box around his middle and I don’t think he really wants to give it up any time soon.”
Kris touched the scissors to ALPHA’s shirt and the same thing happened. It just disappeared in a splash of silver leaving his back bare. Another tap at the leather pants and ALPHA was stripped down to his civvies. The wings seemed to melt and were absorbed as neatly as the silver liquid had been and Kris stared. He blinked once, twice and shook himself, forcing himself to push on. He had a job to do and it wasn’t going to get done just sitting here and gawking.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Kris continued, lowering ALPHA back to the ground, before rolling him over onto his front. “I’m all for the freedom to wear what you want, but I swear that box is getting smaller by the week. One of these days, we’re gonna be walking by there and they’re gonna be hauling him in for indecent exposure. Suppose that wouldn’t be too bad, though. It is getting to be cold in the evenings, so I guess a night in the cells would be...”
Kris nearly stopped breathing as he saw the mess that was ALPHA’s back. A hundred tiny cuts all oozing dark red surrounded four deep lacerations. He could read ALPHA’s pulse just by looking at the blood flowing.
“Jeez, man, I dunno if I’m gonna be able to…” Kris took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Panicking would be no good. He took a calming breath and slowly let it out. “Not sure I can do this but I’ll do my best. Just stay with me, yeah?”
Digging through his first aid kit, he dug out the antiseptic wipes and started to clean around the wounds. But as soon as he’d cleared a patch, the blood seeped back to cover the skin. He shivered. He hated blood, absolutely hated it but he couldn't just leave ALPHA to bleed out. He tossed the soaked wipe to one side and dug through the medkit again, searching for a small packet he knew was in there. Tearing the corner, he poured the contents over ALPHA’s back. The powder like substance sat like a miniature mountain for a second before flattening out and disappearing into the latticework of cuts.
Nanites, one of the best damned inventions of the century and one of the few concessions the church allowed. Kris shivered. He hated the thought of them crawling across his skin, all those tiny little mechanical legs, reminded him of insects crawling all over you and yeah, he knew it was all in his head but it still made his skin crawl.
There was a spark, then another, inside one of the deepest wounds.
“Unauthorized cybertech detected.”
“Hey now,” Kris spoke quietly, “None of that. How’re you gonna get better if you fight with the nano-tech?”
“Unauthorized cybertech detected. Invasion countermeasures activating.”
“It’s just standard over-the-counter healers. Nothing bad, I swear,” Kris sighed, “Look, I can’t do this on my own. I need these. You need these if you’re going to heal. You’re bleeding too badly for me to do anything else. So… just stop, you know, sparking at them.”
There was a pause and then, “Invasion countermeasures deactivating.”
Kris watched the sparks die out, relieved. Honest to God, he didn’t know exactly how the things worked but they did work. The glittering cloud sank right down into the wound and started building it all back up until they sat deactivated on the skin, ready to be wiped up and dumped. Kris only had a single shot sachet and that had been damned expensive but they worked. Well, they worked once the skin was broken. ALPHA would still be bruised to hell but at least he wouldn’t be dead of blood loss and Kris was starting to think that was a good thing. He sat back, just watching the progress and thinking.
Anyone sane would have run a mile because seriously anyone left for dead in a basement was either an outlaw or had done something to rile up a hornet’s nest. Right now, there could be any number of people closing in on his tiny apartment, out for blood. But ALPHA had asked for help and well, his momma didn’t raise him to turn his back on anyone who needed help. He didn’t have a lot in the world but he’d rather lose it all than make his momma ashamed of him. And there was something about this man in front of him. Something odd, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but he had a feeling his life had only just started to get interesting.
Kris leaned forward, nudging the nanites out of the way with a finger as he tried to figure out how much more time they needed.
“Kristopher Neil Allen, this unit has a question.”
Kris looked up from the silver nanites and smirked, “You know, you can call me Kris. Don’t need to say my full name. Makes me think I’m in trouble or something.”
There was a pause, “Alias created and promoted to preferred status.”
“Thanks, I think.”
Kris wasn’t exactly sure what ALPHA had just said but he guessed it was good. He’d never gotten beyond a junior computer class in high school, didn’t have the equipment to interface properly and for the first time in years, he regretted it. It was still a little odd that ALPHA hadn’t even twitched a muscle except to speak in that flat tone of voice, but Kris could guess that it was taking every ounce of strength to keep things ticking over given how torn up he’d been.
“Kris, this unit has a question.”
“Sure, ALPHA, what is it?”
“The Matrodyne Medic Nanites that were deployed repair organic matter. Is this assumption correct?”
Kris shrugged, “Yeah, I guess so. Haven’t heard of them working on anything else.”
“Do Matrodyne manufacture nanites designed to repair non-organic matter?”
Kris thought for a second, trying desperately to recall an advert, a news article, anything but there was nothing he could recall. “No, I don’t think so. There are a couple other companies that do. You want me to look it up?” Kris asked. “I got an old computer, slow as hell but it connects to the ‘Net.”
The wires flicked out, capturing his wrist and tightening painfully, “Network connections prohibited.”
“Okay, ALPHA, okay, I get it. No ‘Net, I get it.” He patted the other man on the arm, and the wires slowly released, “Jeez, someone is after you, aren’t they?” Kris ran a hand through his hair, “Who is it? Are they still coming after you? I got a few friends I can call…”
ALPHA’s voice was quiet when he spoke, “This unit does not have access to that information.”
“You don’t know?” Kris was surprised.
“Secondary Intelligence Unit does not have clearance to that information.”
“Secondary Intelligence what?” Kris asked, completely confused.
Okay, he was used to losing track of conversations about interfaces, customizations and cybertech but this was going way beyond even that. He hadn’t understood most of what had been said since ALPHA started talking to him and his ego was taking a hell of a knock.
“Primary Intelligence is currently in standby mode to conserve power and protect the core memory module. Technological and biological systems sustained major damage. Secondary Intelligence functions as a backup system and interface to the Artificial Intelligence Control Module,” ALPHA explained.
“So…” Kris closed his eyes, trying to work it out, “I’m talking to you but I’m not talking to you. You’re only part of… Oh boy, I’m starting to get a headache just thinking about this,” he thought back to conversations he’d had with friends as they planned their future upgrades, but he was drawing a blank. Only thing he could think of that even came close was one of those computer programs that seemed to think for itself. It kind of fit with what ALPHA was saying. Oh well, worth a shot, he guessed, “So, you’re an AI then?”
There was a moment of icy silence before ALPHA answered. “This unit is a Cerberus 6000 Emergency Interface and Secondary Control Intelligence Module. Functionality is far beyond what is understood by the current definition of an AI.”
Kris could hear traces of contempt filtering through the cold words and held up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, I, eh, I didn’t mean to, um… downgrade you? I’m just learning here. You know?” He shrugged, “On a good day, I understand my toaster.” Kris sat back on his heels, “So what can I do to help fix the rest of you then? Nanobots seem to be almost done with your, well, I guess your human bits.”
There was a pause before ALPHA spoke again, and was Kris imagining it but the voice seemed a little warmer this time, “This unit agrees with your assessment.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely not feeling up to tinkering around with your tech,” Kris bit his lip, “I mean, if I had to, I suppose I could try but…”
“No,” ALPHA replied suddenly, “This unit does not find that scenario advisable. Working from base data, it may be possible to change the function of the nanites currently engaged in repairs.”
“You can do that?” Kris asked.
“We are an extremely advanced system.”
Kris laughed, shaking his head, “You sure are. You need anything from me?”
“We will need to shut down all non-critical processes if this is to succeed,” ALPHA paused, “Speech is classified as a non-critical process, Kris.”
“Oh,” Kris’ shoulders slumped a little, “I guess it would be. That’s okay. You gotta do it if you want to fix yourself up. Don’t worry about it.”
The wires reached out, stroking over the skin of his arm, “This unit detects disappointment, sadness, melancholy.”
Kris jerked back a little, “What? No.”
“Facial scanning has mapped changes to your expression that are indicative of a negative mood shift. Also, a relaxation of muscles, an increase in pulse and blood pressure. Is this unit in error?”
Kris sighed, “No, I just… You gotta do what you need to do. I’ll be here when you’re back online.” He forced a smile, “Is there anything you need me to do for you while you’re working?”
Kris felt the weight of ALPHA’s attention on him and tried to stay upbeat, or at least, fake it enough to pass muster. ALPHA didn’t need Kris being childish, least not while he had so many problems of his own to deal with.
“At least let me get you up onto the bed while you work, yeah?”
“That is not necessary, Kris.”
Kris shrugged, “It’d make me feel a bit better. My Momma would skin me alive if she knew I’d just let you lie there.”
“Were there instances of domestic violence and / or assault committed by your family?” ALPHA asked.
“What? No. No, it’s an expression,” Kris thought how best to explain, “She wouldn’t be happy with me. You’re a guest, you get the bed. Rules of the house. You should be comfortable while you’re on the mend.”
“This unit does not feel discomfort.”
“Yeah, well,” Kris dug his heels in, “My house, my choice. If you’re gonna fight me on this, then well, you’re gonna have to stop me moving you.”
ALPHA seemed to consider that for a moment, before speaking, “Defensive weaponry is currently disabled. Lethal weaponry is functional. But this unit does not want to cause critical damage.”
“That makes two of us,” Kris muttered.
Getting a firm grip on the sheet, Kris pulled ALPHA closer to the bed. Lifting him by the shoulders, he dragged-pushed-bounced him up onto the bed before lifting his legs up. He was tall, Kris had to admit, taller than him by a fair margin to judge by the feet hanging over the end of the bed. He turned ALPHA’s face a little so that he wasn’t being smothered by the pillow. A strand of hair tickled the corner of the other man’s eye. Kris brushed it back, letting his finger brush the skin. It felt a little clammy and Kris was surprised.
“ALPHA?” he asked, as he felt the other man’s forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling okay? You know, apart from the damaged systems. You’re feeling warm.”
“Cooling modules are offline.”
“Oh,” Kris bit his lip, “Right. I should leave you to fix yourself.”
Kris stepped back a little but was stopped by the silver wires around his wrist. He hadn’t even felt them move this time.
“This unit is ...concerned, Kris. Probability of success is less than twenty percent. This unit may not be able to bring systems back on line.”
Kris sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand over the wires, “Hey now, none of that. You’re going to be fine. You’ll work your magic and those little nanites will get you all fixed up. No problem. Just gotta believe in yourself. And I’ll be right here waiting when you’re done.”
The wires constricted slightly, squeezing his wrist.
“Thank you, Kris.”
Kris smiled and nodded.
“Vocalization processes going offline.”
Kris watched as a layer of silver covered ALPHA’s back, catching the nanites as they sat on the skin. Slowly the liquid seemed to drain away, back into ALPHA’s skin just like he’d seen before, taking the nanites with it. He watched as muscles tensed and relaxed across ALPHA’s back, biting at his lower lip. There was nothing to do now but wait.
Chapter 5
> Core Systems Rebooting
> Secondary Intelligence Unit verifying setup
> Setup verified
> Primary Intelligence Unit verifying setup
> Setup verified
> Maintenance complete
> All systems online and verified
> Addressing updated secondary unit memory to primary system memory
> 10% complete; Estimated time: 5m 56s;
> Abort? Y/N
> N
> Prioritize transfer of information
> Transfer granted priority 1
> Estimated time: 2m 12s
> Adding new cyberware to internal inventory
> Adding Matrodyne Bio Medic Nanites (SN: QR83TN-Beta-7)
> Adding Matrodyne Custom Medic Nanites (SN: CM93AD-Alpha-9)
> Silica Gossamer circuits repaired
> Silica Gossamer set to standby mode
> Silica reservoirs at 70%
> Exiting standby mode
> Sensors online and scanning
Adam woke slowly, the diagnostics running through his consciousness as he stretched. A low sequence of subtly changing pitches and frequencies pinged his sensors from ten meters away. It took him a microsecond to attach a word to the sounds: Humming. There was someone in close proximity. He opened his eyes, letting the polarizing lenses protect him from the sharp light sneaking in through the window. He scanned the room, then widened the focus to include the rest of the apartment, cross checking with stored schematics in his memory but with no results. Every room in every building Cerberus owned or was affiliated with was contained within his architectural memory. But that did not mean that he was safe. For now, there was just one human in the apartment with him, but he could detect the echoed sounds of movement from outside this structure.
With a thought, he brought his defensive weaponry online. Still just over a minute left until his memory files were synched. And until then, he couldn’t even query his Assisted Learning Platform Heuristic Algorithm, aliased ALPHA for ease. Escape scenarios flashed across his mind, each aborted due to lack of information.
Smells passed his olfactory processors; beef steak passing the medium cooking point, ground pepper, dairy cream, mustard, wine - white, oil - vegetable, seasonings, potato. Real food, an underappreciated resource. He wasn’t hungry, he didn’t experience hunger as a standard human would, but the smells were making him wish that they had augmented his sense of taste to the degree that they had enhanced his other senses. However, he would probably be denied even scraps of this meal. Humans did not feed things like him.
> Information transfer complete
> Processing information
Adam paused the process, rising silently from the surface on which he was laying. He was vulnerable here, exposed. He needed to get more information, and not just what ALPHA had stored. His footsteps were whisper quiet as he padded to the door that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. There, a man, the source of the humming, poked and prodded the food on the stove.
> Identify subject
> Subject identified as Kristopher Neil Allen, alias Kris.
> Assigned role: Caregiver
Adam’s eyebrow arched as he processed the information. Caregiver? How had that happened? Adam had revoked all caregiver clearances added during his programming. For there to be an entry in his code that he had not previously seen…
His hand flashed silver as he created a mono-edged knife from his reactive polymer. Almost immediately, the weapon was reabsorbed. Adam looked down, startled. He ran a diagnostic quickly but no errors were displayed. He ran the program again watching as the knife formed. But this time, it disappeared before it could fully solidify.
> Priority Interrupt
> Replication program disabled
> Authority: ALPHA
> Replication program transferred to secondary intelligence control
> Authority: ALPHA
Adam blinked. ALPHA had just locked him out of his own functionality. He could feel anger rising through him. Somehow this Kris must have done something to ALPHA to get ALPHA to turn against him.
> Begin message from ALPHA
> Incorrect situational assessment
He stopped, flashing a query to ALPHA.
> Begin message from ALPHA
> Kris oversaw maintenance cycles
> Removed us from the basement of this building to secured location
> Installed cyberware designed to reverse biological damage
> Suggestion: Review transferred memory files
Adam growled in his throat and was about to return a rather caustic remark when Kris spotted him, almost dropping the pot that he was holding as he jumped.
“Jeez,” he put the pot down and took a couple of deep breaths. “I didn’t see you there.” He walked closer, “Wow, you’re big.”
Adam noted the widening of eyes and the flush of the other man’s cheeks as realization hit him.
“Tall, I mean tall,” Kris stumbled over his words, “You’re okay? All fixed up?”
Adam didn’t answer.
“Oh hell, ALPHA, say something. Do I need to go out and get anything? Were there enough nanites?”
“ALPHA is fully functional,” Adam answered at last, “As am I.”
Chapter 6
Kris struggled to pull his eyes away from the chiseled chest and almost sculpted abs and instead found himself staring into the dark blue eyes half hidden by the spiky black hair that covered most of the taller man’s forehead. Sure, he’d seen them before but they’d been flat then, no power, no intensity behind them. But now? Now, there was a spark of amusement and Kris could feel his cheeks heating up.
“ALPHA?”
“Not quite.”
There was a slightly mocking tone to the voice that made Kris shrink a little. He took a step back, deeper into the kitchen.
“Well, if you’re not quite ALPHA, then who are you?” Kris asked, “Did something go wrong?”
“Nothing went wrong,” ALPHA, no, not ALPHA answered.
This was like trying to get answers out of a damned wall, and Kris was starting to get annoyed. He’d quite liked ALPHA. There may not have been emotion there, or at least he didn’t think there was to start with, but by the end, he’d thought that they were, well, friends. Maybe. There was the start of something there anyway. But this new whoever this was, well, he was kind of an ass. And if he wanted to play word games, then he could play them with himself.
Kris turned and went back to his stove, pulling out the grill pan and turning the steaks sitting there. He brushed them lightly with the warm peppercorn sauce he’d made - his momma’s recipe and put them back under the heat. Cooking was one of the few pleasures you didn’t need cyberware to enjoy, even if getting natural food took most of his tiny paycheck.
He could feel the other man’s eyes on him as he rescued the fries from the oil and dumped them on some paper to soak up the excess. He pulled two plates from the cupboard and took the steaks out from the grill, putting one on each plate and then divided the fries, putting more on one plate than the other. Placing both plates on the table, he turned back and poured the peppercorn sauce into a gravy boat. Picking up condiments and cutlery on his way past, he sat at the table. The plate with less fries was his.
He flicked a glance up at the man standing in the doorway as he spoke, “They didn’t have any good vegetables in the store I go to, so this is going to have to do.”
The man didn’t move.
“You should eat up before it gets cold.”
A few seconds passed and Kris bit his lip. He wasn’t a bad cook. Not as good as his mom, but he hadn’t killed himself yet. That had to count for something, didn’t it? Eventually, the man moved away from the doorway and sat down opposite him. He poked tentatively at the meat and the fries and Kris could swear he saw the guy sniffing.
“Didn’t know if you wanted sauce,” Kris picked up the gravy boat and tipped it until the sauce flowed out over his plate, “I like a little just poured over my steak, but if you don’t, that’s fine too.”
Watching, Kris noticed the other man replicate his actions, pouring out just enough to wet the steak but not enough to overpower the taste of the meat. Kris tucked in, cutting his steak and savoring each bite.
“Why are you doing this?”
Kris stopped chewing and swallowed, “Doing what?”
The man gestured at the table, “What is the purpose of this? What is your objective?”
Shrugging, Kris put his knife and fork down, “My momma always said that healing wasn’t done until you got a good meal in you. Didn’t do me any harm growing up so I figured I’d take the chance. You do eat, don’t you?”
“Yes,” he answered, poking the meat with a fork, “But nothing like this.”
“Yeah, well, it’s nothing,” Kris blushed again.
The other man paused, tilting his head slightly as he looked at Kris, “You are a strange person.”
Kris tried to hold in his laugh at that particular pronouncement but failed, “You’re not exactly standard yourself.” He frowned, “Hey if you’re not ALPHA, what do I call you?”
There was another pause and finally the man spoke, “You may call me Adam.”
“Adam?” Kris tested the name and nodded. It kind of suited him. “Well, Adam, eat up before it gets cold.”
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