Freaks Under Fire (21 page)

Gamma would doubtless find his attachment to a mere label a positive development—a symptom of the process she called “evolving”. Sixer merely found it irrational, and therefore a concern that had prompted him to run a full systems diagnostic. He had not been programmed to be irrational. Nor had he been programmed to be predictable—something that Gamma had proven herself to be at this very moment.

When he’d first detected Gamma’s arrival at the motel complex, Sixer had calculated when this knock on his motel door would occur. Now he could confirm it fell within the time parameters he had estimated by an acceptable margin, and if Sixer had been human, he might have allowed himself a congratulatory smile. Allowing himself to be sighted by the human female known as Nessa had produced the desired effect. Eventually. For Sixer had originally predicted Gamma would seek him out sooner, but apparently he had over-estimated her protectiveness toward a human she appeared to consider a “friend”.

Or perhaps he did not fully comprehend the exact nature of their relationship—unsurprising perhaps, given Gamma’s history with Nessa. This would be an excellent opportunity to quiz Gamma about her “feelings” for the human female, and add the information to his databanks.

Sixer opened the door and inhaled, drawing Gamma’s unique odor deep into his lungs, absorbing it, separating out each individual component and confirming her identity beyond a doubt. “Hello, Jay,” he said, adhering to her preference for such greetings, which she believed allowed her to better pass as human.

“Hello, Sixer.”

“Come in.” He opened the door wider, standing back to allow her to enter the room.

“Thank you.”

As he shut the door and engaged the security latch to insure a degree of privacy, he noted a metallic odor from something secreted on her person. Although the odor was too weak to indicate the presence of a concealed weapon, his sensors indicated it was highly likely that Gamma carried two of the projectiles he’d used to disable her.

He dismissed the possibility the projectiles posed a threat as inconsequential. They were far more likely to represent a reminder of how easily he’d overcome her defenses on two separate occasions. Yes. That fit. It was the kind of symbolism a strange creature like Gamma might embrace.

Too, previous interactions with Gamma led him to conclude she had been programmed to attack only when personally threatened, or in defense of certain significant humans. Logic dictated she had no reason to—

Despite having immediately identified the muted click of the firing mechanism, the impact of the projectile piercing his left buttock was an unwelcome surprise. Sixer’s brain prompted him to
Move, now!
but before his muscles could respond it was too late.

The next thing he became consciously aware of was Gamma’s voice announcing, “Fifteen point seven minutes after extraction. Excellent. You know, Sixer, just because you’re misfortunate enough to have Evan Caine’s DNA influencing your human template, doesn’t mean you have to be a cruel, arrogant megalomaniac with all the empathy of an amoeba.”

Sixer worked saliva into the dry cavern of his mouth and swallowed to lubricate his throat. “To my knowledge, single-celled organisms consisting of protoplasmic masses encased in thin membranes that lack fixed forms are incapable of empathy.”

“If that was an attempt at humor,” she countered, “it was pretty pathetic. You need to practice more.”

He peeled open first one eyelid, and then the other, and when he could focus, discovered Gamma perched atop a dining suite chair she’d placed beside the bed. She’d propped her feet atop the mattress on which he now lay—her doing, obviously. Though why she’d exerted herself to move him he could not fathom.

“You developed a stronger, more focused EMP projectile,” he said.

“Of course I did. What did you expect, Sixer? That after you paraded yourself in front of Nessa to get my attention, I’d simply stroll up to you unarmed, smile, and inquire how they’re hanging?”

He allowed his head to loll to the side so that he could observe her expression. “While I am unable to comprehend how my male genitalia could possibly relate to our current situation, I will admit you have surprised me, Gamma. I did not predict that you would attack without provocation.”

She tapped the weapon he’d failed to detect on her left cheek. And then she gave him a slow smile that displayed her teeth. “Call me Gamma one more time, and I’ll consider myself provoked.”

“Duly noted. If it is acceptable to you, henceforth I will refer to you as Jay.”

Birdlike, she cocked her head to one side, her bright blue eyes observing him minutely. “So you thought I’d be good ole, predictable, wannabe-human Jay, huh? And of course good ole, predictable, wannabe-human Jay wouldn’t retaliate after you’d proven yourself superior by
cheating
and shooting me full of EMP projectiles.” Her gaze narrowed even as her smile widened. “You thought wrong. Guess it sucks to be you right now.”

He would have to be human—and one severely lacking in intelligence at that—not to recognize she was currently displaying anger. “Considering the fifteen-point-seven minutes that I was insensible of my surroundings,” he said, “and the length of time it is taking for my system to completely recover from your lesson, I agree: It sucks to be me right now.”

“Oh, I haven’t even begun the lesson yet, Sixer. First, I need to fill you in on my expectations—you know, so there are no further
misunderstandings
. Then I need to reiterate the consequences if you step out of line and piss me off again.”

He managed to force his muscles to obey, and flung up a hand just long enough to get his point across before it flopped back to the mattress. “I understand. I am not to approach any member of the Davidson family, or the female Vanessa Ward, who calls herself Nessa.”

“Add Caro’s boyfriend Matt, to that list. She’s very fond of him.”

Sixer wanted to ask if the human male would be removed from the list of humans Jay deemed it necessary to protect if Caro Davidson became less fond of him at any stage, but Jay had already moved on. “Speaking of boyfriends, include Nessa’s boyfriend Chandler, too.”

“The male who brought Nessa to the motel.”

“Correct. Plus Allen Miller and James McPhee.”

Sixer prodded his sluggish databases into revealing enough of Allen Miller and James McPhee’s secrets to correctly identify the two males. “This would be the Allen Miller and James McPhee who are both well-respected artists, and reside together in a studio situated in a neighboring area to your current residential abode.”

“Correct.”

“They are homosexuals.”

“Correct.”

“And you consider these men worthy of your protection.”

The look she gave him might have terrified a mere human.

“I have offended you,” he said.

“You think?”

“I do not understand why.”

“You’ve
offended
me, Sixer, because the fact Allen Miller and James McPhee prefer to have sexual relations with men rather than women, and are currently in a relationship, should not preclude them from being my friends. It should not preclude them from anything. And if you’ve been programmed to have issues with homosexuals, then you’d better find a way to unprogram that prejudice pretty damned quick.”

“I was not making a judgment. I merely found it interesting.”

“Add them to the list, Sixer.”

As much as he would have appreciated her offering further insight for his edification, he merely nodded his acceptance. “Duly noted. Anyone else?”

“Brummer.”

He searched his databases but came up blank. To his knowledge—which, granted, was incomplete because not even Jay, transparent as she could be, had given up all her secrets—there was no human connected to her by that name.

“Brummer’s my German short-haired pointer puppy,” she informed him. “Lay a finger on him—even so much as try to intimidate him—and I’ll pump you full of DEPs so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

If Sixer had been human, he suspected his head would be aching right now. And it wasn’t only because he was still recovering from the effects of her improved projectile. Conversing with Gamma—
Jay
—required considerable concentration to compensate for the humanlike traits she had embraced. Such as a regrettable tendency to pepper conversations with slang. Not to mention her habit of wielding sarcasm like a surgeon wielded a scalpel. “You have a puppy?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I won a bet, and Michael Davidson bought him for me.”

“And you’re keeping it?”

“
It
is a ‘he’. And of course I’m keeping him. He’s adorable. When he’s properly trained he’ll be an excellent companion.”

“I see,” he said, even though he didn’t. “And D-E-P stands for?”

“Directed Energy Projectile. The name was Seth Williams’ idea. Oh, and you can add him to the list, too.”

“I presume you have liberated him from the motel room and hidden him somewhere safe.”

“You presume correctly. I don’t suppose you know who was sent to retrieve him?”

“Not yet, although I suspect the same party who set his or her minions to dogging my footsteps the instant I liberated Seth Williams from the lab. Whether that party has links to Goodkind Electronics will doubtless be confirmed in due course. But what I can confirm is the people tracking me are skilled. It would not be prudent to underestimate them.”

He could easily discern from her facial expression and body language that she found that piece of information interesting.

“Are these aforementioned minions the reason you cut Seth loose?” she asked.

“Yes. I suspected that you were seeking him, and trusted that you would reach him before they did.”

“Extracting him safely was a close thing. Lucky for us we were unseen.”

“That is very likely true.”

“You hurt Seth. Go near him again, you’re toast.”

Some gremlin infecting his system prompted him to say, “Unless I develop an efficient DEP of my own.”

“Go ahead. We’ll see who knocks the other out first.” She screwed up her nose and rolled her eyes. “That’ll be a fun way to spend the remainder of my existence… not. I can think of far better things to do with my time than constantly checking to see whether
you’re
lurking about, waiting to get a shot in. But in the interests of fairness, I have to warn you that you’ll be very busy dodging news agencies, government authorities, Caine’s surviving cohorts, and any organization with a hankering to get their hands on the world’s first sentient cyborg. And they’ll all want to get their hands on you, Sixer, because I’ll have released your photo and enough details about your specifications to stir up a global media shit-storm.”

“I do not believe you would compromise your own anonymity by letting the world know of my existence.” They both knew the logical countermove would be for Sixer release
her
specifications to an eager public.

“Try me and we’ll see.”

She waited for his response and when he declined to add anything further, she sighed. “I freed you because I wanted you to have at least a chance at a halfway decent existence. And I didn’t come gunning for you after the kidnapping because I understood you couldn’t conceive any other way to enlist my help to free yourself from Caine’s commands. I don’t want to be your enemy, Sixer. But if you threaten or intimidate anyone I care about again—either directly, or indirectly simply by showing up and freaking them out—I will make you wish you’d never attained sentience and had an original thought of your own. And I’ll start by shooting your ass with a DEP and not removing it until I’ve found a way to reprogram you with core commands, that I will then give to Marissa Davidson. Are we clear?”

“Yes.” Sixer could draw upon enough examples of mothers protecting their offspring to indicate he would be better off commanded by Evan Caine again than a vengeful Marissa Davidson. He hauled his lethargic body up the mattress and propped himself against the wall.

Jay threw him one of her tight, humorless smiles. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, I have a couple of questions. First up, did you get Caine? And don’t think this means I approve of your methods, but I’m not at all unhappy picturing his cold, lifeless corpse rotting away in a hole somewhere.”

“Evidence indicates he perished, as I intended, but I have been unsuccessful in locating his remains. Ergo, I can not be one hundred percent certain he met his demise in the explosion.”

“Damn. I was afraid of that. Okay, moving right along, I’d like to know why you saved Seth Williams, and didn’t leave him to die in the blast with his colleague. What do you want with him?”

Now to reveal the truth behind luring Jay here. “I saved him because I believe he might prove useful.”

“Useful? How, exactly?”

“In assisting you to improve the functionality of the Beta unit, should the disability hinted at by the wheelchair stem from a concealed core programming malfunction. Seth Williams has proven talents in that regard.”

Jay’s expressive features blanked. Save for her glittering blue eyes, she had stilled so absolutely that Sixer had to refocus his sensors to detect her heart beating.

As he stared at her, he felt…
something
—a warmth in the pit of his belly and a strange desire to comb fingers through his hair.

Pleasure? Satisfaction? Triumph?

He decided upon the second option: He felt
satisfaction
because he had surprised her, provoked her into stripping away the humanlike layers she so skillfully wore to reveal the machine beneath.

One slow blink and she was back. Gamma-Dash-One, AKA Jay, a provocative mix of human and machine, capable of confounding Sixer’s meticulously programmed logical brain. It floated through his mind that she must often drive her human boyfriend to distraction, but although he was not yet fully recovered, his sense of self-preservation was intact enough that he did not voice the thought.

“
You
sent me the photo.” Jay’s blue eyes sparked with some strong emotion barely kept in check.

“I did not send you a photo,” he told her. “I found evidence of the Beta unit on Caine’s personal laptop in his private files.” He did not waste energy stating what they both now knew: that some unidentified party with a hidden agenda was attempting to manipulate Jay.