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“You have to talk to him.”
653 stared across at Lexie, his mind a bit cloudy. “And say what?” He wasn’t totally convinced she was right about 241, though what he remembered seemed to line up with what she’d said.
“You’re his brother,” she continued. “He needs advice, so give him advice.”
“Human advice.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Human ... cyborg ... why does there always have to be a difference between the two?”
“Because cyborgs do not give ‘advice.’
She rolled her eyes. “Pretend I’m giving you an assignment then,” she said. “I’m assigning you the task of making Jack feel better because you love him. Remember?”
Love. He loved his brother. Therefore, he didn’t harm his brother and, apparently, instead, helped his brother. “What do I say?” he asked.
She curved one hand over her hip. “Whatever God gives you to say. He’s the one in control now.”
653 gave the barest dip of his chin. Taking directions from God, he’d learned, was distinctly harder than taking it from humans. You had to listen to your heart, instead of your head, and that went against everything he’d known.
“Go.” She grasped his arm and shoved him forward. “I’m going to lie down.”
He twisted his head around to see her.
“Alone,” she said. “I need sleep.”
This made him want to laugh. He didn’t, however, unsure if that was proper. Pulling free of her, he left the room and took a stairwell to the next floor. He found 852 staring at a picture of 241 on a computer screen.
Hearing footsteps, his brother dimmed the screen and turned. “Oh, it’s you,” he said.
653 stood in place for a few minutes, then took a seat opposite him. “I’m supposed to give you ‘advice,’” he said, “to say what God wants me to say. But I’m not so good at that yet, so I’ll say, ‘I love you,’ instead.”
852 gave no acknowledgement that he’d heard, though his gaze was sharp on 653’s face.
“And since I love you,” he continued, “I promise we’ll find them both.”
“It’s better she’s not found,” 852 replied. “You know that. If it’s true, she had my child ...” He hushed. “There are those who will harm them.”
“We will find her first,” 653 replied.
852’s gaze grew dark. He shoved to his feet. “I’m not like you, never have been. You wish to be human. I do not. I ask you to leave me alone on this matter.”
653 stared upward, unsure how to respond. He nodded, once. “If you change your mind ...”
“I won’t.”
The door behind them scraped open, its ragged metal edge scrubbing the concrete. “Oh, there you both are,” Dietrich said. “Good news. We’ve located Ahmed. He’s been sighted in Los Angeles. I’ve sent you the address.”
It blipped into 653’s head.
“You both have a job to do. We need that book. Do not come back without it.”
653 stood to his feet. “My wife ...”
“Will be fine,” Dietrich replied. “Safe and sound here until you return. Now, go. Take the SUV.” He tossed them a set of keys.
653 turned to his brother and jerked his chin toward the stairs. “Come, brother, we have a job to do.”
As far as 653 could figure, his brother, 852, was sulking. His face blank, his lip distinctly puckered, he sat motionless on the plane. His outburst that morning, uncharacteristic of cyborgs, told him even more. He was becoming emotional, but mostly over the girl, 241.
He didn’t blame him for that, really. He loved Lexie and would do anything to be with her. Why would 852 feel any different about 241? He wouldn’t, and knowing she was out there, with a child that was his, would only make things worse.
He kept all these thoughts to himself, not willing to upset the uneasy peace they’d formed.
“You were loud last night,” 852 said.
653 glanced his direction. “I was emotional.”
“I’m not sure that was emotion. I remember ...” His mouth clamped shut.
Minutes passed, and it became apparent he wasn’t returning to the subject. 653 turned his gaze out the window. “I miss my wife.” He’d been gone less than an hour, yet it felt like a year.
“Doesn’t that make you want to go back to how you were before?”
653 turned toward his brother. “To feel nothing? That would mean trading in what I have received. So, no, I don’t.”
“Back to not knowing,” 852 continued. “I didn’t know what I’d done until your wife told me. I didn’t know how I felt until she pointed it out. I wasn’t aware the ache in my heart was because I wanted 241 here until Lexie told me.” He shut his eyes. “I’m done.”
Talking. He’d said he didn’t want to talk about her, yet it seemed like he did. 653 didn’t press him.
“This, Ahmed ... our father gave you the file.”
852 nodded. “He has a degree in genetics. That’s enough knowledge of the formula to make him dangerous.”
“Only if he understands ancient code,” 653 countered, “and who knows if he does? If not, then he’d need someone familiar with old text.”
852’s gaze sharpened. “What if he wasn’t going to harm Father Royce, but use him?”
653 sat up taller. “Then the danger has changed.”
“Changed? He is safe, and we will catch Ahmed.”
“No doubt,” 653 replied, with a nod. “But even then, what knowledge the Father has is in his writings.”
“He made no mention of writings.”
“He didn’t need to. They were all on the shelves in his office. I read them.”
852 seemed impressed. “I’ve always envied your speed. Wait ...” His eyes widened. “The house ...”
“Exactly,” 653 said. “The way to catch Ahmed is to return to the manse, where everything he needs is in place. This trip is a trap, meant to lead us astray while they steal it all.”
852 stood to his feet.
“Where are you going?” 653 asked.
852 looked back over his shoulder. “To turn the plane around and fly us home.”
The door to the manse was open several inches. Through it came the noise of several individuals tossing things aside. 653 glanced behind at the other vehicle parked in the driveway and recognized it as one the Organization owned.
“Cyborgs,” he said to 852, who nodded in acknowledgement.
Question was, why cyborgs? If Ahmed wanted to create his own race, then he wouldn’t have control of any unless he’d somehow converted them. This thought sent a tingle down 653’s spine. He’d been converted ... to being more human, to falling in love, and more and more to Lexie’s faith. What she believed made sense to him that it hadn’t before.
He paused to listen to his heart. God had given him understanding to come here. God would help them both stop the intruders.
653 nodded at his brother and entered, immediately registering two heat sources in the direction of Father Royce’s office. Pushing down the hall, he peered around the edge of the doorway. The shelves were empty, the majority of the books tossed carelessly in the floor, except for a half dozen 653 identified as those containing Father Royce’s writings. These were packed in boxes one of two cyborgs sealed with packing tape.
653 sized up the pair. They were young, relatively untrained. Constraining them should be easy. He shifted his gaze to 852 and nodded toward the cyborg on the far side. He held up three fingers, folding them down one at a time, then his hand in a fist entered the room and drew up to his full height. “Stop.”
The cyborg closest to him leapt forward, swinging one arm. 653 captured it in his and bent it backward. The boy was strong, but not as developed as he was. 653 lifted him off his feet, conscious of 852 doing the same with the second cyborg across the room. He pressed the boy to the wall and startled at a jolt, which rippled through his muscles. His hand flexed and the boy fell to his feet.
“They’ve altered you,” he said, eyeing him.
He received no response.
Glass splintered to their left, the other cyborg flying through the window in 852’s hands. 653 took in their speed and distance of flight, then returned his gaze to the one in front of him.
“What is your number?” he asked, pressing forward.
The boy stood his ground, without answering. He lifted his hand again, and 653 spotted the metal disc in his palm. “So that’s how you do it,” he said. “You’ve channeled your powers. Clever. But I am older and far wiser ...”
“You are weak,” the boy replied. “You’ve given in to human emotions.”
653 eyed him. “I’ve gained knowledge. I understand things you cannot and have chosen to work for good, not evil. Tell me, how did Ahmed convince you to work for him?”
The youngster’s face was blank, but 653 saw questions there still.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” the boy replied clearly.
“Ahmed Fawaz, who killed Elam Hedgewick for the book.”
He reached for the boy, only to have him slip to the side. 653 blocked his escape with Father Royce’s desk. Shoving it against the wall as if it weighed nothing at all, he dived forward and captured the boy by the neck.
He squirmed. “Go ahead. Kill me. It’s too late. She already has the contents.”
She? 653 positioned his fingers at the base of the boy’s throat. “She who? And why does she need them?”
He saw it then, the light began to fade from the boy’s eyes. He was being deactivated before he could talk. 653 shook him, smacking his cheeks. “She who?” he asked.
The light faded more and the boy’s limbs went limp. A noise from behind brought 653’s head around. He gazed into 852’s eyes. “The other?” he asked.
“Self-destructed,” 852 replied. He looked down at the boy in 653’s grip.
653 stood onto his feet, the boy in his hand. Tossing him down on the desk, he split open the boy’s chest, and in one swift grasp, pulled out the blue chip and disconnected the adjoining cable. Life returned. His eyes flashing, his mouth agape, the boy vibrated in place.
653 leaned over top. “Who sent you? Tell me and I’ll save you.”
“Ang-e-la ...” the boy replied, brokenly. “I can’t see.” He groped one hand upward. “Why can’t I see?”
653 turned to 852. “Angela sent him?”
852 stepped to his side. He took the boy’s hand and squeezed. “Tell us why she sent you, and where she is.”
“Everything is gone,” the boy began. “Files destroyed. Cyborgs becoming ... too human ... so they killed them ... all.”
653’s heart seeming to tear from his chest. His eyes filled, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“You are crying,” 852 said. “It makes me want to do the same.”
653 placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am sad because our family is gone.”
“Except for him,” 852 replied. He gazed down at the boy.
“Where is Angela?” 653 asked, anger replacing his sorrow.
The boy’s voice became a whimper. “The nursery.”
653 picked the boy up in his arms, tossing him over his shoulder. “Get Father Royce’s books and come. We have to return to our father.”
Dietrich spun his chair around and waved toward the screens. All were blank except for one which watched the boy Kent had saved. He slept, inactive, on a small bed downstairs. Dark circles sat beneath Dietrich’s eyes. He carried the weight of the destruction in his heart.
Lexie wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hugged. She then switched to Pamela and did the same. Pamela’s tears became silent weeping.
It’d happened so quickly. One by one, the figures on the screen had wiped clean, as she’d seen Kent’s system do at headquarters. Then, the stream of unknown cyborgs had fallen lifeless to the ground. Dietrich had fought to override their deactivation and failed. His monitoring system, he said, simply wasn’t strong enough yet.
“Angela ... she wants to be the head,” Dietrich said, his voice thick. “Always did. It’s why we clashed. She wasn’t satisfied following orders, but gradually, more and more, wormed her way into power. She had me fired.”
Lexie returned to Kent’s side and leaned against his shoulder. His arm came around her.
“But you didn’t give up,” she said. “You’ve done all this. You’ve saved so many ... What is ‘the nursery’?” she asked.
Dietrich touched the computer screen directly in front of him, bringing up a camera, and there before them laid rows and rows of babies. Faces blank, eyes empty, they lay silent, motionless.
Lexie gasped. “There are more ... more of them?”
“There’s always more,” Dietrich said, “and now that she has the books ...”
“She can’t interpret them.”
Father Royce’s voice came from behind, and they all turned. He shuffled forward. “My writings are only the tip of the iceberg. She has no knowledge of how to read the formula. That is retained in only one place.”
“Where?” Lexie asked.
Father Royce smiled up at Kent. “Your husband. The prophecy of the stone foretold not a new race, meaning multiple new beings, but a single new being, one which holds the key to the future of its kind. That is where those who would capture it have failed.”
“So the formula isn’t for all cyborgs?”
Father Royce shook his head. “It’s Kent’s formula in particular, and he can’t be duplicated.”
Lexie gazed up at Kent and knowledge fitted into place. “You knew all along.”
He smiled, an unusual expression. “Yes. Father Royce and I talked that night you went to bed early. I read his writings. He explained it all to me while you were sleeping. He was frightened of nothing, but welcomed the change.”
She spun her gaze back around to Father Royce. “So what happens to the babies?”
Their faces returned to the screen, and a figure appeared in the distance, slender, female.
“Is that Angela?” she asked.
Dietrich tapped the screen zooming in, and Jack stepped forward. Laying his palm flat over the woman standing there, his face washed pink. “241.”
No sooner had the numbers left his lips than a knock came from above. Dietrich rose and, not looking behind, rushed up the stairs toward the surface. Lexie followed, Kent and Jack on her heels. The silo door opened and sunshine poured in.
A small face gazed down at them, his likeness unmistakable. Jack extended his hands, and the boy leaped into his arms. Pinned to his sleeve was a note.
Dietrich unfastened it and spread it flat in his hands. “This is 281,” he read aloud. “I leave him with his father.”
Lexie spun her gaze around the circle. “This isn’t over,” she said. “We have to save the babies.”
“Spawn,” Kent replied.
“Children,” she corrected. “We have to stop Angela.” She looked at Jack, clutching his son to his chest.
“And we will,” Kent said.
THE END
The exciting conclusion!
Down to the core of her being, remained a seed of life.
Cyborg 852 united with the only female cyborg in existence, 241, without any idea of the consequences of their actions until a human told him. In his machine-like world, she was a curiosity, her structure different from the rest, and his draw to her unexplainable and devoid of emotion.
When his son, the first naturally produced cyborg child, shows up on his doorstep two years later, a series of strange events puts in motion the possible downfall of the Organization that controls all his kind. There will be no more central computer, but instead, the freedom to think, to choose, and decide.
Yet 241s willful self-destruction to bring it to pass is too high a cost. And the possible end to the most valuable part of their existence – the chance to feel love.