“Okay. Done. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Together, she and Viktis limped toward the exit. As they approached the hub, the hybrids stood frozen in place, eyes vacant. A series of beeps came from several of them, spreading through the crowd as the virus took hold.
“What will happen to them?” she asked. Her stomach twisted as the former humans shuddered and trembled. “Will they feel pain?”
“No, they shouldn’t. It will shut down all mechanical components, leaving them immobile.”
She blinked at him. Then back at the room full of people. “Viktis, they’re not just machines. These were once people. Navang fused cybernetic implants to human bodies.” Her voice cracked, and she studied the nearest hybrid, a matronly looking woman with graying hair and soft skin. Maybe she’d been someone’s mother or wife. Now she was a monster created by MYTH.
His eyes widened, and he scanned the hundreds of hybrids in the room. “That’s horrific,” he whispered.
A rumble started somewhere deep within the facility, and he jerked. “It’s too late for them, but at least this will put them out of their misery. Come on, Renna. We need to go. Now.”
Together they made their way down the corridor and out the main door. They found themselves standing on a quiet street at the edge of town.
“Hurry, we have to get out of the blast radius.”
“Make for the Athena. Maybe she’s still there.” Renna forced her legs to move, despite the pounding in her head and the tremors wracking her body.
Viktis paused, his amber skin still pale and ashy looking from the sedatives they’d given him. “What did they do to you? You’re going to have to tell me, you know.”
Her eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears fall. “I’m becoming one of the hybrids. I already had the implant. Navang injected me with the drug to integrate it into my system.”
His hand tightened convulsively on her arm, and he swallowed. “You could have been infected with the virus I just released.”
“No. Integration with his neural network hasn’t happened yet. He said it would take a few days or weeks for the process to complete.”
“Oh my gods.” He shook his head and pulled her toward the shade of the forest. “We’ll figure this out, love. Get you help. Reverse it somehow.”
She let out a sad chuckle. “I appreciate it, but somehow I don’t think there’s getting out of this one, even for me. We need to focus on Myka right now and making sure he’s safe. Even if Larson is involved, the real mastermind behind all of this is still out there. And we have no idea who he is. Or why he needed an army of hybrids.”
They stepped out into the steamy forest, and Renna sucked in a deep breath of the thick air. It looked the same as it had earlier, yet everything had changed forever. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, squaring her shoulders. “Let’s move.”
There wasn’t much of a chance, but a tiny part of her held on to the hope that Finn had waited for her. That somehow they’d find a way to fix this together.
As they approached, that hope died. The clearing was empty, all signs of the ship long gone. Renna sagged against a tree. The world had gone fuzzy again, her eyes unable to focus on anything. She slid down the trunk to sit on the ground.
“Shit. What are we going to do now?” Viktis paced the clearing, his long legs eating up the ground. “We need to get you help. We need to get you out of here.”
She thought about the communicator in her implant. Could she risk trying it? Would it even work anymore? At that thought, a sharp pain zapped through her brain, and then she heard the static as the communicator turned on and contacted the Athena.
“Athena, this is Renna. Do you copy?” she asked, voice shaking. The pain sliced through her again, and she let out a whimper. She needed to hold on long enough to reach them.
Her head hummed with a strange noise, and a moment later, Finn’s voice echoed in her head. “Renna! Where are you? Are you safe?”
“We got out. We’re in the clearing. The facility is about to explode.”
“We’re on our way. Hang on.”
“Is Myka safe?”
“Yes. He’s fine. Stabilized once we got him on board. It was like there was something in that facility affecting him.”
“The neural network.”
“What?”
She shook her head. “Never mind. Just hurry.”
Viktis stared at her. “Are they coming?”
She nodded. Then her body slid sideways as the world went black.
THIRTY-TWO
When Renna regained consciousness, it felt like someone had stuck a stick of dy***ite in her head and put the lid back on. When several minutes passed without her head exploding from the pain, she opened her eyes.
She half-expected to see Navang’s lab again. Instead, she was surrounded by the familiar gray-white walls of the Athena. In her own bunk.
She squeezed her eyes shut against the humming that vibrated through her brain and tried to breathe.
Inhale calm.
Exhale pain.
Slowly her clenched muscles relaxed and the humming faded. No, not faded—it had shifted. Somehow, with every vibration, she could feel the movement of the Athena, the murmur of her drive core and the feeling of the crew moving through the ship. The vibration of the electronics and controls. Everything.
It was amazing. All the feelings she’d never even guessed lay below the surface of her mind.
Renna let out a slow breath and tried to reach out with her implant. There was a flash of the CIC, with Keva and Viktis chatting over a star map. Another flash of Lieutenant Kojima sitting at the helm.
A sharp zap burned through her body, and she seized on the bed. The world spun, crashing and screaming through her body until all she could do was clutch the edge of the bed and ride out the surge of agony. Seconds turned into long, torturous minutes as wave after wave rushed through her.
She was going to die. Her implant was being rejected.
Eventually, the pain withdrew, and she wiped away the tears that had trickled down her cheeks. She took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Somehow the cabin seemed brighter. Clearer. She shifted in bed so she could see the rest of the room.
Finn was sprawled out in the tiny chair, head back against the wall. The low rumble of a snore came from his lips. She smiled at him, then winced as her brain twinged again. She curled her fingers into the sheets, clutching them in case the pain came back. A moment later, the twinge was gone, replaced by a shot of fear, white-hot and burning as it all came rushing back.