What do you think of the name Winston?”
Winston briefly turned his head in J-100’s direction, then tossed his mane and resumed his rapid pace. J-100 took that as acceptance.
By the time the pale Martian sun started to wash the rocks with gold, they were almost at the city.
Chapter Five
As always, Serena was behind her desk before the sun rose, but today she had been driven as much by a feeling of restlessness as her usual dedication to her job. She looked up as her office doors were flung wide and Alan appeared in the opening, his face worried.
“Excuse me, Ms. Gatling, but I think something is wrong.”
She raised her eyebrows. Her bodyguards were usually unflappable. “What is it?”
“Four of the new hybrids are here in New Arcadia.”
Fuck. Not long after Carrington had arrived, he had kidnapped a baby and been shot in the subsequent rescue attempt. She had warned the company about his mental instability—although not about the assistance she had provided to the cyborg rangers who had rescued him. Despite that, GenCon had sent twelve more hybrids to Mars on the last transport.
Eight of them had been assigned to the new outposts that the corporation had been preparing in secret. The other four had been delivered to the nearby hidden city prepared for the wealthy—or formerly wealthy—men who were both clients and experiments. Desperate enough to pass on most of their fortune in return for leaving Earth, this new batch had been equipped with control chips in order to prevent any further “unfortunate incidents.” Unlocking her desk, she reached for the case containing the command panel for the chips.
The crack of a shot sent her gaze flying back to the open doors in time to see Alan collapse to the floor, blood pooling beneath his body. One of the hybrids stood over him, his white face locked into an expressionless mask. She recognized Evans, an embezzler who had used the millions of credits stolen from his victims to fund his way to Mars and away from prison.
And now he’s gone from white-collar criminal to cold-blooded murderer, she thought, sickened at the sight of Alan’s lifeless body.
“You will no longer require the services of a bodyguard, Ms. Gatling,” Evans said, his excited voice at odds with the eerie stillness of his face. “We wouldn’t dream of letting anything happen to such a valuable GenCon executive.”
She tried to ease her hand surreptitiously towards the control case but he laughed and shook his head. “Don’t bother. Those chips you implanted in our heads—without our consent I might add—are no longer active.”
Double fuck. Long practice kept her face and voice calm. “I see. What do you intend to do now?”
“Eliminate the cyborgs and take control, of course, just as GenCon intended. Although I’m afraid they will be playing a much less significant part than they had planned.” He laughed again, the hysterical edge sending shivers down her spine. “Now, you be a good girl and remain here while I clean up this mess. I will be back shortly to provide you with a list of demands for you to convey to your employer.”
The doors closed behind him before she could respond. Her hands were trembling, she realized as she reached for the useless case. It had been many, many years since that happened. She had to make a decision. Follow the hybrid’s instructions and wait quietly until he returned, and then try and negotiate on behalf of GenCon? Or do everything in her power to stop the hybrids?
She knew her employer would expect her to negotiate. If they ever found out she had made an alternate choice, she would lose her last possible chance at the technology she so desperately wanted. She thought of Alan’s body outside the door. She thought of the cyborgs and their families—of their children. The hybrids had already demonstrated they didn’t care who would be hurt. And just as with the baby Carrington had kidnapped, that was a line she would not cross.
With a defeated sigh, she picked up the communicator and called the Judge. Even though the big cyborg had officially retired to spend time with his wife and child, he was still the indisputable leader of the cyborgs—and he owed her a favor.
After she asked for his assistance, she was about to warn him about the situation when an icy white hand reached across her desk and snatched the communicator away from her. The hybrid demanded a response, but the Judge must not have answered because