BACKTRACKER by Milo Fowler (books to read in your 30s TXT) 📗

moved down to the end of the corridor, passing openpassageways on either side, until they reached a doorway on the right.

They stepped into a dark, oblong room. The light swept acrosstables, chairs, and strange equipment with dead screens and blinking pinpointsof light, as if the machines were on standby. From where did they receive theirpower?

"If you would, Peter." Horton clicked off the light,dropping a black curtainon the room.

"Yes, sir," the deep voice rumbled.

Another door creaked shut, and another wheel scraped steel acrosssteel. Rubber bands snapped from two locations in the darkness, and Cade againremembered the goggles worn by the Gatekeeper. There was a pause, a moment ofsilence. Then someone flipped a switch, and the room exploded in a blast ofblinding white.

Cade closed his eyes, held up a hand instinctively against theglare of the bulbs in the ceiling. All around him, the machines whirred tolife, shifting gears as they woke up. Cyrus Horton chuckled.

"Welcome to my secret laboratory!" He slapped Cade onthe back. "Takes a few seconds, but you'll get used to it. Like walkingout of a matinee into the afternoon sun, isn't it?"

Cade did not recognize the word matinee, but the brillianceof the lights could easily be compared to the sun in all its strength.

"Is she here?" He lowered his hand.

Horton smiled, the deep lines at the corners of his eyes a tributeto his blithe nature. "Yes. But she's sleeping." He gestured toward aclosed door at the far end of the room. It looked solid, as did the one theyhad entered through, now locked from the inside. "She'll be glad to knowyou're all right. Not an easy thing, eluding those Blackshirt devils. But thenagain, you've got some skills, haven't you?" He grinned knowingly. "Thatyou have, that you have."

"May I see her?"

Horton shook his head, and the smile faded. "We'll let herget some rest for now. Lord knows she needs it." The smile returned."Besides, I've got to introduce you to my kids!" He guided Cade witha hand on the back of his soiled robe, no longer the stark white it had oncebeen. "The big one's Peter." He gestured to the black man who bowedonce at his introduction, broad features stoic.

"Welcome," Peter rumbled with a hand over his heart.

Cade bowed in return.

"The scrawny one's Paul." Horton chuckled again as hepointed out the frail, stoop-shouldered man who appeared to be the eldest inthe room by a decade or few.

"Pleased to meet you," Paul replied hoarsely, eyesdarting. He seemed agitated. A pair of goggles dangled from the gnarled fingersof his right hand and swung to and fro.

"And this beauty," Horton beamed, "is Mary. That'sright: Peter, Paul, and Mary!" He laughed out loud, his shoulders rocking."After seeing them in concert, I couldn't resist!"

"Glad I am to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cade." Marystepped forward with a delicate smile and bright eyes, her small white handoutstretched. But she caught herself. Instead of reaching for his hand, shebowed.

Cade returned the gesture without a word, despite the direct lookshe fixed upon him.

"Didn't know Irena had such an array of siblings, did you?" Hortonpatted Cade's shoulder absently.

"No," Cade said. They could not possibly be related. Theylooked nothing like her, nor her father. Nor each other.

"Well, when I say they're my kids, I suppose I shouldclarify. I'm their father—their creator. We've got a trickle of the sameblood flowing through our veins, but we're not blood relations in thetraditional sense. Have I succeeded in perplexing you royally?"

"They are SYNs." Cade looked at them, studying each onestanding before him. They stared back without expression.

Horton nodded. "Yes...and no. They don't hail from SYNCorp'sfactories, if that's what you're thinking. Same genetic sequencing—I might'veborrowed SYNCorp's source code from Alpha Geminorum before I quit. But I'mimproving it, working out the kinks to override their expiration dates. None ofthose cookie-cutter models for me, no sir. You ever notice how AshlandSolomon's synthetics all look the same? Sure, they might dress different or dotheir hair or tattoo and paint themselves to look like ghouls, but each one'sengineered from a grand total of five variations. Not much creativity there, ifyou ask me." He shook his head in disgust. "But my kids, they're themost unique synthetics you're ever going to meet.Aren't they freakin' cool? I mean, check 'em out!"

Cade turned his gaze sidelong toward the inventor, whose peculiarverbiage eluded him. "I would not have guessed it."

"Right?" Horton clapped his hands, his applause echoingagainst the bare concrete walls and ceiling. "That's the idea! Put modelslike these out there, topside, and nobody will be able to tell the difference.They look human, don'tthey? Hell, these three could even get themselvesfitted with plugs—nobody would turn them down. No second-class citizen status for them!" His smile dropped away. "Not that I'mall about supporting the Link, mind you. Look—" He turned his head quicklyand pointed out the scar behind his ear. "Had mine taken out years ago.It's not about that. It's about..." He fixed Cade with a desperate stare."It's about screwing them over, thepowers that be. You know? Really sticking it to them, showing 'em what's what!"

Cade did his best to follow Horton's line of thought, even as itseemed to zigzag without any sense of direction. "In return for theircanceling your research."

"They shut me down, that's a fact. But it's not aboutrevenge. Is that what you think? I'm not out to get even. Hell, they didn't stopmy work!" He frowned. "Is that what people are saying up there? Thatthe government shut me down for good? Far from it!"

He scurried toward one of the tables in the center of the room, nearlyburied beneath mounds of random electronic parts and stray wires, glowingnuclear cells, and the insides of what appeared to be outdated computersystems, ravaged beyond recognition.

"Come here, come here. You've gotta see this."

Cade glanced at the SYNs. They watched him closely. Theone named Mary continued to smile at him, almost as if she were attempting toseduce his attention. He turned away from them and approached the inventor'sside.

"See here?" Horton held up what looked like a silvercigarette lighter—only its cap was missing, and there was no flame. Instead, astrange vaporous