Synapse of ash, p.1
Synapse of Ash, page 1
SYNAPSE OF ASH
CYBER HUNTER ORIGINS BOOK 1
D. B. GOODIN
Copyright © 2020 by D. B. Goodin
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction; any references to persons living or dead are purely coincidental.
For more information about the Cyber Hunter Origins series visit:
www.cyberhunterorigins.com
www.dbgoodinbooks.com
www.davidgoodinauthor.com
ISBN: 978-1-7350736-2-0 (Paperback)
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Continue the Adventure
A Favor
Exclusive Bonus Offer
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also By D. B. Goodin
Some see them as identically birthed twins. I see them as weapons of choice.
—Dr. Elizabeth Ash
CHAPTER 1
The cyborg awoke in a small and dark place. From its vantage point, it appeared to be lying on a table. A bright light shone overhead. As the cyborg filled its lungs with the room’s cold, stale air, an acrid smell forced the cyborg to turn its head away.
Where am I? the cyborg thought. How did I get here? Who am I?
The cyborg tried sitting up; its arms were weak and started shaking. After a few moments, the cyborg rolled off the table and fell onto the floor. It reflexively tried extending its arms, but a pang of extreme pain shot through its body as its palms struck the concrete floor.
The cyborg started shivering.
Rest some more, it told itself. I must find something to cover my cold skin—then find a way out.
The cyborg curled into a ball on the floor and rubbed its chilled skin, trying to gain a bit of comfort. Then the darkness returned.
Sometime later, the cyborg awoke again, back on the table. The room was dimly lit this time. It lifted its head, trying to gain a better vantage point, but it was too dark to see beyond the table.
Is this the same room? it wondered. Who put me back on the table?
Its right side felt numb; the other portions of its body were cold. It slowly slid off the table and onto its hands and knees, and then crawled to a hard, vertical surface.
A wall—that’s what I think it’s called.
The cyborg slid up the wall; its legs were weak, but it managed to stay upright. The wall felt warm with a smooth texture. Holding on to a small shelf, the cyborg took its time feeling every inch of the wall as it tried to find something to illuminate the room.
I need to see where I am—who I am.
Several paces later, the cyborg felt two small levers protruding from the wall. The cyborg grasped one of the tiny levers and tried pressing it into the “up” position. The first switch wouldn’t budge, but the second one did. A flood of light filled the room. The cyborg’s sudden surge of sensory input caused a painful retinal sensation. It shut its eyes for several moments.
I’m blind!
Several moments later, the cyborg reopened its eyes. Everything in the room looked fuzzy. It took some time, but gradually, everything came into focus.
A bare metal table stood in the center of the room. Above the table was a circular metal object emitting the bright light. No other furniture was visible.
The cyborg held out a hand to inspect itself; it was petite, smooth, and had an olive pigment. As she examined the rest of her body, she noticed the hairs on her arms were raised—and then slight bumps spread across her body. She felt very odd. An unusual burning sensation—one that wasn’t unpleasant—settled between her legs.
I’m a female. I need to see my true self.
The cyborg strained to stay upright as it slid across the wall. Several moments later, it stumbled upon a metal indentation in the wall. It was cold to the touch. She tried pushing it, but it wouldn’t budge. Further examination revealed the frame of a metal door. She tried pulling the metal indentation; it slid to one side, revealing a small handle. She pulled the handle, and a door popped open, revealing a dark room beyond.
The cyborg felt her way through the passageway and into the new room, using the hard surface of the wall as her guide. Eventually, her fingers found a raised smooth surface with two switches. She fiddled with the switches for a long time before the room filled with light. Her eyes adjusted more quickly this time.
On the other side of the room, an enormous, lifeless, smooth rectangle occupied most of the opposing wall. Light reflected from its shiny, smooth, black surface. A keyboard and mouse were sitting on a small metal desk below, and a black metal chair stood nearby.
The cyborg rested her naked body in the chair and examined a flat touch pad on the wall just below the large rectangle. She touched it.
The rectangle illuminated, and soon it was filled with green text on a black background. The cyborg could not read the text.
Several moments later, an image of an older woman appeared. She had short white hair and stared directly into the female cyborg’s eyes.
“Hello, Echo-451,” the woman said.
The cyborg opened its mouth and tried to speak, but no words came out.
“You cannot speak yet, as your systems are still coming online,” the woman said. “My name is Dr. Elizabeth Ash, and I’m your creator.”
The cyborg known as Echo-451 jumped, knocking the chair backward and stumbling forward, but caught herself on the table. Then she slowly looked up and shot the image of Dr. Ash a wary look.
“Sit, before you fall over,” Dr. Ash instructed.
Echo-451 pulled the chair back and collapsed into it. A wave of exhaustion settled in; she found it difficult to control her movements.
“We have much to discuss, dear,” Dr. Ash continued. “But your systems will be online very soon.”
What’s wrong with me? the cyborg fretted. Why can’t I speak?
Echo-451’s vision faded to black, and then there was silence.
Sometime later, Echo-451 awoke from her restless slumber. She was still sitting in the chair. An image on the giant screen read:
<<>>
New Mission: Identity
Primary objective: Discover your true identity.
Secondary objective (optional): Figure out what the yearning sensation is.
Do you accept?
Yes/No
<<>>
Echo-451 opened her mouth and tried speaking again: nothing. Her vocal cords wouldn’t obey. It was like someone had turned off the parts of her that controlled her body. She concentrated her gaze on the “yes” response. Moments later, the prompt appeared to glow as an animated hand tapped on the “yes” button.
“Mission accepted—good,” Dr. Ash said. “I’m glad you’re learning. Soon you will accept many missions—some you will be provided a full dossier for, and others you won’t. Understanding will come in time.”
Echo-451’s head felt so heavy that she could barely keep upright. It drooped forward, and then the familiar blackness returned.
Echo-451 awoke once again—and the room was now dark. She started shivering. Suddenly, red lights flashed and a siren blared throughout the room. The sound was so loud she covered her ears. The enormous screen suddenly filled with Dr. Ash.
“Warning . . . The subject known as Echo-451 is failing. Attempting to stabilize,” a robotic voice said.
She looked in the direction of the robotic voice but could not see anything.
Moments later, the room was illuminated with a harsh, white light. A white machine—one that resembled the automated personal butlers that had helped her father with mundane tasks—rushed toward Echo-451.
I’ve seen those before! she thought. But where did this one come from?
It stopped just short of hitting Echo-451. A small panel opened on the side of its metal torso. It held a hypodermic needle in one robotic claw. Before Echo-451 could process any of this, the robot shoved the needle into her upper arm without warning. A red-hot burning sensation enveloped her. She closed her eyes and then saw herself lying in a comfortable looking bed. She appeared to be in a hotel room.
This is odd . . . Who is this person who looks like me? I have no memory of this.
Tomiju Kiyomizu awoke as the sun was rising. Rays of sunlight extended into her hotel room, creating an odd kaleidoscopic effect. Brilliant colors of every shade imaginable flooded the room and bounced off the white walls and ceiling. The array of light and colors was dizzying.
Where are these colors coming from? she thought.
As she lay in bed looking at the ceiling, the colors began to fade.
Nothing lasts forever!
She got out of bed and headed toward the window. The rising sun was causing the light effect; a colorful pattern that resembled stained glass filled the window.
I need a few more hours of sleep, she thought. Misato is coming in tonight, and she will want to party. I hope there are some real men at the club tonight.
These thoughts of being reunited with her twin sister made her heart ache.
It’s been too long, little sister.
Tomiju had no problems when it came to her studies or work, but with having a good time—and meeting men—she was hopeless. Misato was much
A wave of fatigue overcame her. She climbed back into the comfortable bed and closed her eyes.
A loud knock awoke Tomiju.
What time is it?
“Housekeeping,” a male voice said.
Tomiju sat up and rubbed her head, trying to wake herself.
The door to her hotel room opened, but the chain caught.
“Do you need your room made up?” the male voice persisted.
Tomiju ran toward the door and saw a young man through the small gap that the chain allowed. He was about her age—perhaps a year or two older—and was wearing a hotel uniform.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know anyone was here. Do you want me to come back . . .”
Tomiju looked down and realized that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. She grabbed the nearest thing she saw to cover up: a thin yellow rain jacket resting on a nearby chair. She felt ridiculous being naked in a rain jacket, but modesty had always been one of her weaknesses.
“Oh—I will come back,” the man said.
Then Tomiju did something that surprised herself—and the young man. She unchained the lock and opened the door.
Why am I doing this? she wondered.
The rain jacket wasn’t long enough to hide her entire body; the man could see her nakedness from the waist down.
“Are you okay?” the man asked as he stepped back.
The man looked bewildered and shocked. He looked like she felt.
This is not like me, she thought frantically. I’m starting to act like my sister.
“Can you come back later?” Tomiju asked as she tried pulling the jacket below her waist.
She followed the man’s gaze down to an area that made her feel uncomfortable.
“Can I give a word of advice?” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Next time put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the outside of the door if you want to sleep in,” the man said as he closed the door.
The sound of the door closing resonated in Tomiju’s head. She sat up, panting as if she had been exerting herself. She pulled the covers off and was relieved that she was still wearing her pajamas. She felt flushed, and a tingling sensation passed through her body. She looked out the window; the sun was fully up now, the kaleidoscope gone.
What a nightmare!
Echo-451 awoke to a harsh light. It was so bright that she could barely keep her eyes open. A white-hot burning sensation coursed through her body. She trembled.
Several moments later, her eyes were still trying to adjust to the brightly lit room. She ached all over like she had been hit by a truck. A foul metallic taste was in her mouth.
Echo-451 raised her head and looked around her; she was lying in a bed.
The electronic butler that stabbed me with the needle must have put me here, she figured.
From her vantage point, she could see that the ceiling and walls were painted white.
Her body ached everywhere, but her arms hurt most.
I must have bruised something—did I fall out of the chair?
“Are you feeling better?” Dr. Ash said.
Echo-451 looked around for the source of the voice. She saw the outline of something approaching the bed, and then it came into focus; it looked like a floating digital picture frame containing the image of Dr. Ash. Echo-451 sat upright and scanned the room. She shielded her eyes against the bright light that appeared to be coming from everywhere.
Echo-451 saw that she was in what appeared to be a small bedroom with a single bed, dresser, and full-length mirror. Everything in the room looked out of place—as though someone had added bedroom furniture to a clinical lab. An outfit hung on a hook attached to a wall. Then she closed her eyes again.
“Too bright,” Echo-451 said.
I can speak now, she thought. The butler must have fixed me.
“My apologies,” Dr. Ash said as the lights dimmed. “I thought you might want some clothes before we begin your training.”
Echo-451 sat up, then took a hesitant step outside the comfort zone of her bed. She kept one hand on the bed to steady herself, but discovered that precaution was unnecessary. She felt rested, stable, and had no problem standing. As she stepped farther away from the bed, her confidence returned. She liberated the outfit from the hook and examined it in the dim light. It was black and made of leather. No pockets or other distinguishing features were visible. It appeared smaller than what she could fit into. She held the outfit in front of her to estimate its size.
This might be a tight fit.
She hung the outfit back up.
She noticed movement out of the corner of her eye; she froze. Echo-451 directed her full attention to the area where she had noticed the movement: it was a reflection of herself, but she looked different. Echo-451 took several moments to examine her curvaceous body in the full-length mirror. She moved closer to the mirror to get a better look, holding her breath.
Echo-451 didn’t fully recognize the person in the mirror. Her torso and part of her chest were different; the right half appeared to be made of metal. It gleamed even in the low light. Her left breast was missing, and in its place was a rubbery imitation of one. She touched it, and to her surprise, it was warm and smooth.
What have they done to me? Echo-451 thought.
Her heart raced; she could feel a wave of anxiety pour over her like a basin of water. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. She concentrated on slow, deep breaths.
Her eyes moistened as she continued her examination. She inspected the right side of her body until she was satisfied that it was human flesh. Her single breast felt real enough. From the waist down, she looked like any other human female. Echo-451 felt every inch of her legs, groin, and buttocks to make sure. She was glad that those areas were still intact, but an overwhelming sensation of loss still enveloped her.
“What happened to me?” Echo-451 asked in a shaky voice.
“I see that your emotional response is normal—that is good,” Dr. Ash said. “I had some trouble with previous generations of my girls. The Delta model was the most distressing—it almost ended up being the death of me.”
“What girls?”
“You are not my first experiment; in fact, you are the fourth generation. The Alpha project was made up of primates. I didn’t perfect human trials until the Delta phase. You belong to the Echo generation, the most advanced of them all,” Dr. Ash said.
Echo-451 gave her a strange look. “Death?”
“Yes—several of the Delta models tried murdering me, and I don’t know why.”
“You don’t look alive to me,” Echo-451 muttered.
Dr. Ash smiled. “Yes, I’m dead in a way, but I still live on within the construct of this digital frame. My human counterpart’s consciousness was absorbed by this form when this lab was built. I just hope my human body can upload its updated life experiences before it expires.”
Echo-451 had so many questions. “What’s a ‘construct’?” she asked.
“You are a construct,” Dr. Ash replied. “It’s hard to explain, but your original flesh died, and your essence lives on within the machine.”
“What machine?” Echo-451 asked as she desperately tried feeling her wrists and neck for a pulse. “What are you talking about? I’m alive!”
Dr. Ash gave Echo-451 a sorrowful look. “I’m sorry, but you’re not. I tried salvaging what I could, but without my human body, I can’t easily complete your appearance. I need more knowledge and equipment to produce the skin that will cover those exposed metal parts.”
Overwhelmed, Echo-451 meekly asked, “How did I die?”
The image of Dr. Ash looked sad. “I know that it involved an unexpected accident, but I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more to tell you. I hope to be reunited with my human self so I can be whole—then I’ll have more information.”
