Stolen Future Read online

  “Right, I let her go, and then I have nothing on you. I want my money.”

  What on Mars was Ryken involved in? Did this have to do with his cyberhacking?

  “If it's money you want, I have some,” I said.

  “Diya, no,” Ryken warned.

  But I stared at Jet. “It's in my pocket. I have a money card. You could take whatever he owes you.”

  Jet smirked and glanced at Ryken. “So, got your girlfriend paying for your mechfight habit? Where do I find a woman like this?” He kept his gun aimed at me. “Where's this money card?”

  “In my pocket.” I tilted my head to indicate my right side.

  I started to reach down, but Jet yelled, “Stop moving!”

  I thrust my hand back up and saw Ryken flinch out of the corner of my eye.

  Jet recovered. “Don’t want you fishing in your pocket and pulling out a gun. How dumb do you think ole Jet here is? I've been running deals on Luna since before you were born, honey.”

  “I don't doubt that,” I said, “but if you want the money, I have to get it out somehow. I'm not packing.”

  “Don't do it. He'll take it all, and this isn't your business,” Ryken said.

  I glared at him. “In case you hadn't noticed, he made it my business by shoving a gun in my face.”

  Jet cackled. “You should listen to her, Ryken. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.” His laughter turned raspy, and he lapsed into a vicious coughing fit, though not severe enough to distract him from holding the gun on me. After a minute, he said, “Let me tell you what's gonna happen. You’re gonna hold your hands up high, lady. And Jet here is gonna grab the money card in your pocket.”

  It sounded like a horrible idea. “Go ahead,” I said, sighing. Jet was intimidating but nowhere near how scared I’d been when facing the Scyther. He was a street thug who didn't want to kill me, he just wanted his money. As long as I kept everything smooth, I could walk away from this and so could Ryken.

  And I didn't care about losing the money card. It would be an inconvenience, but it wasn't worth losing my life for.

  Ryken edged closer.

  “You stay where you are,” Jet said to him. “Me and your lady friend are having a little meeting. If she's lying to me—”

  “I’m not lying,” I snapped.

  Jet stepped close and rested the barrel of the gun at the base of my throat. His stale breath assaulted my nostrils as he reached into my right pocket and retrieved the card.

  Then he backed away, revolver still trained on me. “Well, well, well,” he said. “You weren't lying after all.” From his pants pocket, he pulled a device and scanned the card.

  “What the…?” He raised his head and stared at me.

  “Is Ryken’s debt paid off now?” I asked, trying to keep him focused on what he wanted in the hopes he would leave soon.

  Jet glanced quickly at Ryken. “Yeah. We're square now, man.”

  “Put down the gun,” Ryken said.

  “No tricks, you two. I’m no idiot.” He lowered the gun to his side.

  “Get out of here,” Ryken said. “You got what you want.”

  “Yeah, I'll be going now,” Jet said nervously. “You two lovebirds have a great night.” He stashed his gun inside his long trench coat and hurried away toward the road.

  Ryken was at my side in a second, holding onto my shoulders. “Are you okay, Diya? Did he hurt you?” His hands shook.

  Light from a motion detector in the alley danced in his gaze, reflected off his pupils. “Yeah. I'm fine. Who was that idiot?”

  “My bookie,” he said. “You shouldn't have given him the money card. It's way more than I owed him.”

  “Ryken, he had a fucking gun in my face. What was I supposed to do?”

  He stepped away and squinted his eyes in the direction Jet had left. I checked the pocket where the card had been but found it completely empty.

  “The retrodisc!” A shiver raced up my spine. “He took it.”

  “Oh fuck! Let's go.” Ryken sprinted after Jet, and I followed fast through the long, poorly-lit alley flanked by dumpsters and littered with trash and debris.

  Jet hadn’t gone far.

  “In front of us, there he is.” Ryken halted just before reaching Jet. “Give me the memory disc you stole!”

  But Jet faced away from us and didn't answer. Someone else was standing nearby, leaning against the alley wall. He was taller, his face obscured in the dark shadows.

  “Come on, man. We need that disc,” Ryken said.

  Still, Jet didn't move.

  As Ryken grabbed his shoulder, Jet’s body twisted grotesquely, and blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes had a blank stare.

  I’d caught up to Ryken. Jet had been stabbed through the chest. Blood streamed down the front of his clothing, and he clutched the money card and retrodisc as his body thudded to the ground.

  The Scyther emerged from the shadows.

  Twenty-Four

  “Diya, run!” Ryken shouted.

  The Scyther edged closer, his lifeless red eyes sizing us up and his broad shoulders flexing. One hand was shaped like a round barrel—the same arm with which he’d shot me. The other held a long blade that dripped with Jet’s blood.

  My breath caught in my throat, and the tingling sensation began in my temples, coursed down my neck, and wound through my back and limbs. A message appeared in my visual field: Threat level 10.

  “Ryken, get out of here.” My voice was low and firm.

  He stepped sideways, closer, and I shoved him behind me. The Scyther blocked the opening to the intersecting street. The machine regarded me, cocked his head.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked.

  “You don't belong here,” he said evenly.

  “Neither do you.”

  “I was sent to collect you.”

  My cognition had activated, and the target lock zoomed in on the Scyther’s head and chest, seeing data, but I couldn't get any biological readings. Only a power output of 1,947 watts.

  Behind me and off to the side came a clattering racket. In a moment, Ryken was next to me with a long, rectangular board, wielding it like a bat. “Here, Diya.” He held out a heavy iron rod. I grabbed it and raised it before me, bracing for an attack.

  “If you come with me, this will be easy,” the Scyther said. His eyes turned on Ryken. “I will spare his life if you surrender now.”

  Ryken’s breathing was erratic, his heart rate elevated. My cognition could even detect his core temperature rising. “Ryken, go back into the club,” I ordered.

  “No way in hell,” he said as he gripped the board.

  “Don't be foolish, human,” the Scyther said. “Leave and let me deal with the cyborg.”

  Ryken’s head jerked to stare at me. “Cyborg? What’s he talking about?”

  “Ryken, please just leave!”

  But Ryken rushed forward, swinging the board in a wide arc. The Scyther ducked and grabbed onto the lumber, then backhanded Ryken and knocked him several feet back where he landed in a heap on the alley pavement.

  The Scyther lurched toward Ryken who was writhing on the ground.

  “No!” I lunged forward, swung the iron rod, and struck the Scyther in the face. He reeled back a step. I had dented his metal cheek. The machine’s red eyes flared, and he started toward me, but I shifted my feet, moving backward fast. Something took over—my cognition? I darted onto the top of a dumpster in one motion and stood poised with my iron club. The Scyther stalked toward me and raised his gun canister arm but then stopped.

  “Get down,” he commanded.

  The bulkier, heavier machine couldn't move like me. He compensated with his built-in arm cannon… Why didn’t he shoot me? He had before.

  Then it dawned on me. They needed me alive. Whoever was after me—NeuroDyne, NinjaRabbit19, whoever—they needed me operational. The bullet wound above my right shoulder had been designed to take me down, not kill me.

  From my perch atop the d
umpster, I swung the iron rod and nearly caught the Scyther in the face again, but he recoiled just in time. Then he turned and pointed his arm cannon at Ryken, who had managed to climb to his feet.

  “No!” I leaped off the dumpster and onto the Scyther’s back, knocking the heavy robot to the ground. He roared and flailed, rolling over and crushing me.

  My enhanced gaze locked onto Ryken—he drew forward, clutching the board.

  Pinned beneath the much heavier Scyther, I tried to scream, to warn him away, but my cries came out garbled. “Ryk… Go. Get out, here.”

  The Scyther raised his arm cannon and fired, nearly hitting Ryken.

  “Come any closer,” the Scyther warned, “and next time I won't miss.” With his free hand, the Scyther gripped my throat, choking me. He stood, dragging me up with him, then turned his steely gaze on me. “Surrender, or your friend dies.”

  The Scyther’s clutch on my throat was like a noose. I felt hopeless. Not only could the robot shoot Ryken, but he could also crush my windpipe.

  Dizziness hit me in a wave, and dots of light fluttered at the corners of my vision.

  “I… surrender,” I gasped.

  The Scyther loosened his death grip and started forward, one arm outstretched, still holding my neck. The arm cannon remained pointed at Ryken.

  Ryken stood, visibly trembling as his wide eyes searched my face.

  I mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  And he watched as the Scyther dragged me away.

  Twenty-Five

  The Scyther forced me onto the avenue and into a nondescript black air cruiser that had been waiting nearby. After shoving me inside, he sat beside me and clamped steel handcuffs on my wrists. I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed myself for leaving the basement in the first place, while the vehicle began moving. My elevated heart rate was just leveling off, though the proximity of the killer machine next to me didn't make me any less anxious.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

  He turned his head, stared at me, and said nothing.

  “I deserve to know. Tell me. What’s happening?”

  “You will find out soon enough.” The cruiser’s thrusters roared to life and it rose twenty feet above street level and soared above the mess of foot traffic and road vehicles. The cruisers that roamed the airspace just above the city streets were reserved for the rich, politicians, police, and emergency vehicles. Whoever was paying the Scyther to track me down had money.

  I didn't see any clues so far, either in the vehicle or on the Scyther, that indicated NeuroDyne was behind this.

  My thoughts wandered back to Ryken. Had he been injured when the Scyther struck him? He was standing when I left—a good sign. I hoped his injuries weren't too awful. The look on his face had been one of devastation. He’d helped me in the eighteen hours we were together, more than he could know.

  A pang of regret surged through me, knowing I’d lost both the money card and the memory disc so stupidly. Jet—dead in the alley—still had them, and surely Ryken would retrieve them. At least he could use the money as he pleased, so it wasn’t a total waste.

  As for the retrodisc… it was a lost cause. An opportunity squandered.

  After ten minutes, the cruiser pulled up to a large flat area that looked like an airbase. I shifted forward in my seat and tested my handcuffs. “What is this place?”

  “Transport,” the Scyther answered. So far, he was a machine of few words. Drive Nine had been that way, too. Were all robots so taciturn?

  We landed, and the Scyther exited the vehicle, crossed to my side, and yanked me out by the shoulder. He marched me toward a cavernous white-domed building that stretched out like a hangar. We walked into an enormous room where a large spacecraft rested in the middle. Its exterior was charcoal gray and the words Soba Calais were written on it.

  The Scyther pushed me toward an open ramp exposed on the undercarriage of the ship. He waved his arm, directing me to walk up the platform.

  But I halted and whirled on him. “Where are you taking me? I don't want to go. Please. I can pay you more than whoever else is paying you.”

  The Scyther waited, betraying no emotion.

  “Half a million,” I said under my breath.

  The machine surged forward and shoved me, sending me stumbling. “Get on board.”

  Could I run? Maybe I could outrun the Scyther, but I couldn’t outpace an air cruiser. I would only delay the inevitable.

  “Try and escape, and I will find you,” he said as if knowing my thoughts. “You’re chipped.”

  A chortle escaped my lips. “So, that’s how you found me.” Damn, I had been a sitting duck. “When did you first find me?” I asked as I gave up and boarded the ship.

  “What does it matter?”

  “I just want to know. At least, tell me that.” Was there a soft spot somewhere inside the hulking, chrome killer? I smiled. “We’re related, aren’t we? You're a machine, and I'm also kind of a machine.”

  “On the street when you ran, and I wounded you. My orders are to detain you. The next time you try to escape, your wound will be fatal. I never miss.”

  I turned away, careful the Scyther didn’t register my expression. I swallowed down my relief, knowing he hadn't found me at Terry's apartment. I hoped that meant she was safe.

  We boarded the transport ship. It looked like an interplanetary shuttle capable of long distances. I could only assume we were heading to Earth, maybe back to NeuroDyne headquarters in Iceland. Maybe that's where the Scyther thought I belonged. A few men inside the ship wore visors and black fatigues like the NeuroDyne soldiers I’d seen outside Terry’s apartment and Lightspeed Café. We strode through a narrow, dingy gray corridor with exposed pipes and circuitry before the Scyther shoved me into a room the size of a closet. He forced me to sit on a padded chair, strapped me in with belts, then left. At least I wouldn’t have to look at his ugly face.

  The Soba Calais’s booster engines revved for takeoff, and I peered through a small, portal window and saw a man unhook a steel cable from underneath the belly of the ship.

  I let my shoulders droop and hung my chin. The last twenty hours had been hell. Hunted and on the run, finding dead ends about my identity, and finally captured.

  The only bright spot had been Ryken. I couldn't suppress a smile as I recalled sitting beside him at that café when we’d been strangers, when he leaned across me to activate the computer, and then later, when he held my hand and wouldn’t let go as we escaped the Scyther.

  Well, no matter. I wouldn't see him or Terry again. Maybe it was better this way. The farther away I was—especially on another planet—the better for everyone.

  At least now I would find out the truth about NeuroDyne. Why was I made this way? Who was behind the Cyborg Trials? What was my purpose?

  The ship began vibrating and the vessel rose off the ground and cleared the hangar. Through the window, the dome of Luna receded in the distance, its neon glow fading and becoming unreachable. Tears filled my eyes, forcing me to blink three times, and suddenly, there was my cognition. The rapid blinking must activate my abilities. Earth and Mars, I’d finally figured it out! After everything had already happened.

  My timing was awful.

  My cognition flashed: 4,206 miles per hour and accelerating. The speed continued to climb, and my stomach dropped. After several minutes, we cleared lunar orbit and lost gravity. I shut my eyes and figured I would get some sleep. But I couldn't drift off. Instead, I studied the cognition screen as it scanned the small room, tallying the dimensions, temperature, humidity level.

  Something flashed in my vision. Message waiting.

  I just sat there. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. How could I have a message from anyone?

  And then, Do you prefer to turn on audio messaging? Or continue in text mode?

  My heart skipped and my shoulders tensed. What did that mean? This was a new choice.

  “Er-y-yes,” I stammered and hoped I didn’t break anythi
ng.

  Granting audio access, the screen read, and something fizzled inside my ears.

  Someone cleared their throat and then a raspy voice said, “Diya?” Ryken’s voice. It sounded as if he were talking through a speaker in my head.

  But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?

  “Diya, are you there? It's me, Ryken. Hey, you left behind the EarthShine box, and I hacked into your memory feed using the serial number. I’m hoping you can hear me. I know it’s a long shot, but the earring—if you’re still wearing it—might let us communicate. Give me a sign?”

  My jaw dropped, and then I closed it and squawked, unable to form words. Then, like an idiot, I sat there breathing heavy. Finally, after a few more seconds, I said slowly, “Uh… yeah. It’s Diya. I'm here.”

  “Hey, I heard something—I think—but it was real weak. You there? It’s me, Ryken. As long as you’re there, listening, I’ll keep talking.”

  My chest heaved and a sob escaped.

  “And I'm not going anywhere,” he said. “I’ll find a way to bring you back.”

  I closed my eyes and listened to his deep voice.

  “Back here. Where you belong.”

  END OF BOOK 1

  Dear Reader,

  Thanks for reading Stolen Future! Are you ready to find out what’s next for Diya?

  Book 2 is called CODED RED, and will introduce you to a whole new cast of characters. You’ll be turning pages as more of Diya’s past is revealed.

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  Cameron Coral

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