Cyborg’s Love (BioCircuit Nexus)

Chapter 3—Parka

TWO DAYS LATER, PARKA squeezed through the narrow maintenance duct, her modified repair tools clanking softly against the metal when she inched forward. The earpiece crackled to life as Zarakano’s deep voice filtered through, allowing her to hear his conversation with the guard at the lobby security desk.

“I need to inspect the quantum stabilizers in Sector twelve. It’s a routine check.”

“There’s no record of that in our system,” said a gruff voice in response.

“It’s a new protocol. Check with CEO Kyliv if you don’t believe me.”

Parka held her breath, pressing herself flat against the cool metal of the duct. Her heart thundered erratically while she waited for the guard’s response.

“I’ll have to verify that.”

She exhaled slowly, relieved Zarakano’s distraction was working. The scrambler on her wrist hummed, its green light pulsing steadily. She’d spent the last two days perfecting it, ensuring it would mask her presence from the facility’s advanced security systems and integrated her unique debugger tech, modified to power the shifting algorithms that kept her undetectable—in theory. She hadn’t had time for a real-world test until now.

She continued her slow crawl through the duct, wincing at every small sound. The facility’s ventilation system pushed cool air past her face, carrying with it the sterile scent of disinfectant and ozone.

When she rounded a corner, a grate in the duct floor offered a view into a corridor below. Her eyes widened as she watched a group of cyborgs being wheeled past on gurneys. Their movements were jerky and uncoordinated, reminding her of the malfunctioning enforcer she’d encountered earlier.

One cyborg’s head lolled to the side, its eyes unfocused and twitching rapidly. Another seemed to be stuck in a loop, its arm rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. Her stomach twisted upon realizing the extent of the problem. “Kano,” she whispered into her comm. “I’m seeing multiple affected cyborgs. This is bigger than we thought.”

“How many?” His voice was tense.

“At least five, and maybe more. They’re all exhibiting similar symptoms to the enforcer.”

“Can you get closer? We need more information.”

She hesitated, eyeing the narrow passage ahead. “I’ll try, but if I get stuck in here, you’re coming to get me out.”

She could almost hear Zarakano’s smirk through the comm. “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you behind, Parka.”

She rolled her eyes and continued forward, her muscles protesting in the confined space. The duct creaked ominously, and she froze, mouth suddenly dry. After a moment of silence, she resumed her crawl. Approaching another grate, voices drifted up from below. She pressed her ear to the metal, straining to hear.

“The AI’s integration is progressing faster than expected,” said an unseen woman, “But we’re seeing increased instability in the neural pathways.”

“Increase the suppression protocols,” said a man. “We can’t risk losing control now.”

Her blood ran cold. AI integration? Suppression protocols? This was far worse than she’d imagined.

Speaking quietly, she said, “I think they’re integrating an AI into the cyborgs’ systems, and they’re using some kind of suppression to maintain control.”

There was a long pause before he responded. “That explains the malfunctions. The cyborgs’ survival systems must be fighting against the suppression. I thought the system wasn’t detecting it at all, but it sounds like the cyborgs’ operating systems are trying to expel the intruder, leading to the glitches and eventual meltdown I’ve seen several times.”

“What do we do?”

“We need more data. Can you access a terminal?”

She looked at the room below through the grate. A computer console sat unattended in the corner. “I see one, but I’ll have to leave the duct to reach it.”

“Be careful,” he warned. “If you’re caught—”

“I’m dead.” She took a deep breath, bracing herself. “Here goes nothing.” She carefully removed the grate, wincing at every small sound. The room below was empty right now, but that could change at any second. Parka lowered herself down, touching the floor with a soft thud.

Quickly, she made her way to the terminal and bypassed the security protocols using the modified debugger tech. It worked as smoothly as Zarakano had assured her it would, and she delved deeper into the system, uncovering layer after layer of encrypted data.

“I’m in,” she whispered. “Downloading now.”

As the data transferred to her portable drive, her eyes widened at the information scrolling across the screen. Project Hive, as they called it, was more than just an AI integration. It was a full-scale attempt to create a hive mind, linking all cyborgs under a single, controlling intelligence. It appeared to be a continuation of a previous version of an experiment called Project Guardian, formerly led by Admiral Zorn, whomever he was.

“This is insane,” she whispered.

Just then, footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. Her pulse skittered as she quickly disconnected the drive and scrambled back toward the duct. “Someone’s coming,” she hissed into her comm. “I need a distraction, now.”

Zarakano’s voice came through, loud and authoritative, over the loudspeaker, though she could hear the guard he’d been dealing with protesting in the background. “Security breach in sector four. All personnel report immediately.”

Once the footsteps faded in the direction opposite her location, she slipped back into the duct. She allowed herself a brief moment of relief before focusing on her next objective—the central server room, which had been her original goal before seeing the cyborg subjects.

With practiced ease, she navigated the maze of ducts, contorting her body to fit through tight spaces. The metal was cool against her skin, and the faint hum of machinery vibrated through the walls. Her mind spun with possibilities. What secrets would she uncover in the server room? Would she make it out of this place without being caught?

After what seemed like an eternity of crawling, she reached a grate overlooking her destination. She peered through the slats, scanning the room below. Banks of servers lined the walls, their lights blinking in a rhythmic dance. A lone technician sat at a console, typing mindlessly.

She waited, watching the technician’s movements. When he finally stood and stretched, she seized her opportunity. In one fluid motion, she removed the grate and dropped silently to the floor behind a server rack.

The technician’s footsteps resounded as he left the room. As soon as the door closed, Parka darted to the main console. She tapped at the keyboard, bypassing security protocols with ease due to the assistance of her debugger algorithm.

Screens flashed before her eyes when she delved deeper into the system. Suddenly, a file caught her attention: “Project Asset.” She opened it, and her eyes widened as she read.

The file detailed experimental cybernetic upgrades being forcibly installed in Lower District residents. Graphs and charts showed increased cognitive function, enhanced physical abilities, and complete obedience to preset commands. A cursory glance suggested it was related to Project Hive but was targeting the residents who were fully human or only partially enhanced.

Parka’s stomach churned. This was worse than she’d imagined. These definitely weren’t upgrades. Just a means of control.

She quickly inserted a data chip, initiating a download of the incriminating files. The progress bar crawled forward with agonizingly slowness. A soft beep from her wrist device made her freeze. The scrambler’s light had turned from green to red. Her mouth went dry when she realized what that meant.

The facility’s security systems had detected her presence.

She tapped on the datapad, trying to accelerate the download. A mechanical whir filled the air as blast doors began to descend over the exits. “Come on,” she muttered, watching the progress bar inch toward completion.

The last door slammed shut just as the download finished. She yanked out the data chip and spun around, searching for an escape route, but every exit was sealed.

She was trapped.

The overhead lights flickered and dimmed, bathing the room in an eerie red glow. Alarms blared, their shrill cry echoing off the metal walls. She looked around frantically, searching for anything she could use—the air vent near the ceiling. It was small—almost too small—but it might be her only chance.

She scrambled onto a desk, her boots scuffing the polished surface. She reached up, just barely brushing the vent cover with her fingers . With a grunt of effort, she pushed herself higher, balancing precariously on her toes.

The cover came loose with a metallic screech. With a jump, she grabbed hold of the edges of the hole and hoisted herself up, muscles straining while she wiggled into the confined space. The sharp edges of the vent scraped against her sides, but she pushed on, driven by desperation.

Just as she pulled her legs into the vent, the main door burst open. Armored security guards poured into the room, their weapons drawn.

“Freeze,” one shouted, but she was already crawling away, the stolen data chip clutched tightly in her hand.

She moved as quickly as she could through the cramped space, trying to put distance between herself and her pursuers. The sound of boots on metal told her they were following.

She needed to contact Zarakano, to warn him about what she’d discovered, but her comm device was silent. The security systems must be jamming the signal.

There was a fork in the vent ahead. She hesitated for a split second before choosing the left path. She had no idea where it led, but anywhere was better than here. The vent began to slope downward. Her speed increased, and she struggled to control her descent. Suddenly, the duct ended in a sharp drop.

She tumbled out, landing hard on metal grating. Pain shot through her shoulder, but she forced herself to her feet. She was in some kind of maintenance tunnel, dimly lit and filled with pipes and conduits.

Footsteps echoed from both directions. She looked left, then right, uncertainty gripping her. Which way would lead to safety?

A voice crackled over hidden speakers. “Attention, intruder. You are surrounded. Surrender immediately.”

She tightened her hand around the data chip. She took a deep breath and searched for another entrance back into the ducts. Spying one, she dove toward it. Once she’d moved away from the room where she’d fallen, she crouched in the narrow ventilation shaft, which had more space than the previous ceiling ducts, trying to catch her breath.

The metal walls pressed against her shoulders while she carefully maneuvered her repair tools. With practiced precision, she rerouted power from her multitool to the security lock’s control panel. A soft hum filled the air as electricity surged through the wires.

The klaxons stopped sounding as she once again hid her presence from the security system. The guards knew someone was in the building but wouldn’t be able to track her again, at least until the security system mastered her algorithm once more.

She allowed herself a brief moment of satisfaction before pushing forward. Her muscles ached from the cramped position, but she ignored the discomfort. The ventilation system stretched out before her like a maze, dimly lit by emergency lighting strips.

Crawling through the duct, the metal cool against her skin, her thoughts spiraled. How had she ended up here, infiltrating the headquarters of a powerful corporation? Just days ago, she’d been a simple mechanic in the Lower District. Now, she was caught up in some grand conspiracy involving rogue AIs and cybernetic experiments.

A faint voice echoed through the shaft ahead. Parka froze, straining her ears. The words were muffled, but she recognized Zarakano’s deep timbre. Curiosity overrode caution as she inched forward. She peered through a vent grate into a restricted lab below. He stood at a central console, in front of a holographic interface. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but the words coming from his mouth made her tense.

He spoke in a fluid stream of archaic code—the ancient programming language used by the facility’s most secure systems that had originated with Simone Wiley a century ago.

“ ... ... ,” Zarakano intoned, his voice taking on an eerie, mechanical quality.

Parka’s mind reeled. How did he know that language, and how was he inside? He’d told her he would merely create a diversion in the lobby while she sneaked in. Yet here he was, deep within the facility, accessing its most sensitive systems. He’d claimed he wouldn’t be able to get past security with the false inspection requisition, so how was he here?

She trembled as doubt crept in. Had he been lying to her this whole time? What was his true agenda? She wanted to confront him and demand answers, but instinct told her to stay hidden. If he had deceived her, revealing herself now could be dangerous.

With trembling hands, she carefully backed away from the vent. She needed to get out of here and reassess the situation. Her trust in Zarakano, already just fledgling, had been shaken to its core.

She retreated through the ventilation system, thoughts churning. She’d thrown in her lot with him based on his warnings about the AI threat, but now, she wondered if she’d been manipulated into becoming an unwitting pawn in some larger game.

The cool air in the ducts did little to calm her fluctuating pulse. Parka had always prided herself on her self-reliance. How could she have let down her guard so completely?

She reached a junction and paused, considering her options. She could try to complete her original mission of gathering intel on the facility’s cybernetic research. Or she could abort and make her escape while she still had the chance.

She put her hand over the data chip hidden in her jacket. It contained everything they’d uncovered so far about Project Hive and Asset. Not nearly enough to expose the conspiracy, but perhaps sufficient to interest the right people.

A faint clang reverberated through the shaft behind her. Parka’s head snapped around, eyes wide. Had Zarakano discovered her presence? Or worse, had facility security detected her intrusion?

She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths. Panicking now would only lead to mistakes. She needed to stay calm and think this through logically. The ventilation shaft forked ahead. One path led deeper into the facility, while the other angled upward toward the surface levels. She hesitated, weighing her choices.

Deeper in lay answers—and danger. The surface offered escape, but also uncertainty. She’d be leaving with more questions than when she’d entered. Another faint sound reached her ears—the whir of a security drone. Her time was running out.

Gritting her teeth, she made her decision. She veered onto the upward path, scrambling as quietly as she could manage. The shaft grew tighter as she ascended, forcing her to wriggle awkwardly. Her lungs burned from the exertion, but she pushed onward. Freedom was so close she could almost taste it.

Finally, mercifully, she reached an exterior vent. She peered through the grate. The neon-lit streets of Nexus Prime’s Lower District sprawled out below.

She’d made it. As she prepared to kick out the grate, a nagging doubt tugged at her. What now? Where could she go that was truly safe?

Parka froze, her muscles tensing as Zarakano’s familiar form appeared beside her in the ventilation shaft. Her heart thudded, torn between confronting him about his deception and maintaining her pretense of ignorance.

Before she could decide, he said, “I managed to slip inside the facility and track you here between the time when the facility recognized your presence and your transmissions to me...before you went silent. Are you all right?”

She studied his face, searching for any sign of deceit. His cybernetic eye whirred softly as it focused on her. She swallowed hard, her throat dry from the recycled air in the shaft. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “How did you get past security?”

Zarakano’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “They all ran off to Sector Four after my announcement, except one. I knocked him out and slipped past him. Did you find anything useful?”

She hesitated, unconsciously moving her hand to the data chip hidden in her jacket. She debated whether to reveal what she’d overheard, weighing the risks against her need for answers. “I... I heard you in the restricted lab,” she said, watching his reaction closely. “You were speaking in that old programming language. The one from a hundred years ago.”

His expression remained neutral, but she noticed a slight twitch in his organic eye. “You’re very observant,” he said after a moment. “Yes, I was using the old language to interface with the system.”

“How do you know it?”

He sighed. “It’s a long story we don’t have time for right now. Did you uncover anything?”

Parka’s mind raced, trying to decide how much to reveal. She didn’t fully trust Zarakano, but she also couldn’t deny they needed each other to unravel this conspiracy. “Nothing concrete,” she lied, feeling the heavy press of the data chip against her chest, weighted by guilt and uncertainty. “Just more questions.”

Zarakano nodded while his cybernetic eye scanned their surroundings. “We should move. It’s not safe to linger here.”

She agreed, but she had no intention of returning to their safe house. Not until she had time to process everything she’d learned. “I’m going back to my workshop,” she said, watching him carefully for his reaction. “I need to check on some things.”

To her surprise, he simply shrugged. “All right. I’ll tag along if you don’t mind. We can regroup there and plan our next move.”

Parka’s suspicion grew. Why wasn’t he insisting they return to the safe house? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security?

They made their way through the ventilation system in silence, her mind churning with possibilities. As they emerged onto a deserted street in the Lower District, the familiar neon glow of Nexus Prime’s underbelly enveloped them.

She led the way through winding alleys and crowded marketplaces, taking a circuitous route to throw off any potential pursuers. Zarakano kept pace easily, his enhanced physique allowing him to navigate the urban jungle with grace.

As they approached her workshop, she let her hand hover over the biometric lock. She glanced at him, suddenly reluctant to let him into her personal space again. “You don’t have to come in,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “I won’t be long.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? It might be safer if we stick together.”

Her fingers twitched, itching to access her tools and analyze the data she’d stolen, but his presence complicated things.

“Fine.” She relented, pressing her palm to the scanner. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the organized chaos of her workshop, which seemed like NSF hadn’t been there yet. She moved quickly to her main workbench, powering up her diagnostic equipment. She needed to examine the data chip without arousing suspicion.

“So,” she said, keeping her tone casual as she pretended to tinker with the broken cybernetic arm. “What exactly were you looking for in that restricted lab?”

He leaned against a nearby table, arms crossed. “Information on the AI. I thought I might find a weakness we could exploit.”

“And did you?” she asked, her gaze focused on her fake work.

“No,” he said with frustration. “The security protocols were more advanced than I anticipated. I couldn’t access anything useful.”

Parka’s hands stilled for a moment. Was he lying? Or had he truly failed to find anything? She resumed her tinkering, buying time while she considered her next move.

“What about you?” he asked. “You said you didn’t find anything concrete, but surely, you must have seen something?”

She weighed the risks of sharing what she’d discovered against the potential benefits of pooling their knowledge. She decided to test the waters. “I overheard some scientists talking about neural suppression protocols,” she said, watching his reaction from the corner of her eye. “Does that mean anything to you?”

His organic eye widened slightly as a flicker of recognition crossed his face before he schooled his features into a neutral expression. “It could be related to the AI integration,” he said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “But without more context, it’s hard to say for certain.”

She nodded, turning back to her work. She was sure he knew more than he was letting on, but why would he hide information if they were supposedly working toward the same goal?