The Outlaw Cyborg (Cyborgs on Mars #5) - Honey Phillips Page 0,5

was an expectant pause, and John nodded, keeping his face blank.

The general sighed. “I suppose I am not reassuring you about my intentions.” He drummed on the desk again. “I assume you have also heard of GenCon?”

The random question surprised him enough that he answered. “Yes, sir. A powerful corporation with close ties to Earth Government.”

“Too close, I’m afraid. Although Earth Government has refused to share the secrets behind the cyborg technology, they have revealed enough that GenCon is experimenting with that knowledge. However, the majority of their experiments are taking place on Mars, and we have little to no oversight into the results.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“In part because I am concerned that GenCon could end up in control of Mars. Under other circumstances, I might approve of the Martian colony escaping the leash of Earth Government, but I believe that GenCon would be an even worse master.”

Considering his own experience with the company, he couldn’t disagree. He had worked—briefly—for one of their agricultural divisions when he first left the orphanage. Given the massive unemployment rates and the endless supply of workers, the company didn’t hesitate to subject their employees to the worst possible conditions. He could have ignored the horrendous circumstances, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that they were adding nutrition-less filler to their so-called protein bars. His protests had resulted in a firing, an attempted beating, and an assurance that he would never work again.

When he had attempted to report them, his concerns were dismissed. He had also quickly realized that their threat had been real—he was unemployable by any legitimate company. A succession of menial, under-the-table jobs had followed, most of them ending when his uncompromising sense of right and wrong reared its head. So he had ended up in the military, although perhaps that too was coming to an end. He forced his attention back to the general, who was once more discussing the cyborgs.

“We essentially closed down the cyborg program once the terraforming had reached the stage where human life was viable—with some assistance, of course.” General Biggs gave him a speculative look. “However, the program did not entirely cease.”

John tensed again, his eyes going to the gun.

The general shook his head. “I will not force you. But I would like you to consider undergoing that transformation and traveling to Mars.”

“Why me?”

“Your actions have shown that you can think for yourself—not always an advantage in a military situation, but critically important for this role. More importantly from my perspective, you have shown that you will not inflict damage on the weak. Assuming you accept my offer, I will send you to Mars as a settler—perhaps a farmer or a miner. For right now, I will ask nothing from you except to observe and report. However, to be quite clear, I expect that trouble is coming, and when it does, I will expect you to fight.”

John considered the idea. The idea of traveling to another planet was unexpectedly appealing. There was certainly nothing to keep him here on Earth, no friends and no family.

“I would want a place to call my own and sufficient funds that I would not go short on food,” he said, remembering his thoughts on the way to this meeting.

“Of course. You would be equipped with the same initial supplies as any other settler. Funds will be deposited to your account on a monthly basis in addition to whatever you may earn on your own.” General Biggs drummed his fingers again. “I should warn you that although they have made improvements, the transformation process is quite painful.”

John shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he doubted it would be the last time that he experienced pain.

“Do you accept?”

He took another look at the dusty books belonging to the useless captain. Outside, he could hear the sound of men exercising, but he had never really felt like part of the team. His time in the military had served a purpose, but there was nothing to tie him here. He nodded.

“Very well,” the general said briskly. “I will inform the captain.”

Eight months later, J-100 prepared to disembark from the transport ship that had carried him to Mars. Although his outer appearance was essentially unchanged, John Wales was gone, replaced by this new version of himself with capabilities he was still exploring. The trip to Mars had taken over six months and prior to that, he had spent two months in the military labs on Earth losing his human identity. The