Synthetic: Dark Beginning

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Authors: Shonna Wright

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SYNTHETIC: Dark Beginning

 

By

 

Shonna Wright

 
 

© 2014 Shonna A. Wright

 

All rights reserved. The characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

facebook.com/shonna.wright.books

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

Kora wasn't sure which made her more ill, the engagement ring or the fact that it was sitting in a blue Tiffany box. She understood her disgust for the ring because she had no desire to marry her boss, Randall, but the box? No idea why that made her feel like puking.


You don't look happy about this, sweetheart,

said Randall.
He took Kora's hand and squeezed, making her wince. Despite his youthful looks, Randall was seventy and his strength always amazed her. He was dressed in a red, shimmering suit with his brown hair slicked back.  If Kora looked close enough at his smooth face, she could see all the fine scars from the cosmetic surgery she'd lavished on him over the years.


I am,

said Kora, forcing her lips into the shape of what she hoped was a smile.

Just very surprised. I thought there must be some special occasion. We don't go out very often.

Randall's smile faltered, as if his nerves had failed him for just a second.  “There's another reason to celebrate. We have a new project.  A very important one, but I'm afraid it's offsite.”

Kora
accidently
knocked the ring off the edge of the table and for one glorious moment she was free of the damn thing until the waitress retrieved it and set it back in front of her.  “What do you mean by offsite?” she grumbled.

“It means, sweetheart, that we're transporting your lab to another location for a week so you can complete your work in comfort.”

Kora took a deep breath to remain calm. Randall was always accusing her of flying off the handle.  “I don't go offsite. You're the one who told me there's no reason to leave Mirafield. I need my building, my lab, and I need Ishmael.”

“Ishmael is going as well, though I really don't understand what you see in that slimy, synthetic blob. We should have dismantled him years ago.”

It frightened Kora when Randall threatened Ishmael, even as a joke. “Ishmael is a squid, not a blob, and he stands in front of the dismantling guns all the time and they don't hurt him.” She kicked herself for blurting this out. Randall was haunted by the possibility that a synthetic might exist that he couldn't blast to smithereens and the last thing Kora wanted to do was put Ishmael on his radar.

“Are you sure he isn't setting the gun to a light stun?” asked Randall, his overly smooth brow struggling to furrow.

Kora looked down at her plate to make sure her face didn't betray her. “You're right—that's what he's doing. Ishmael's a total smart ass, always pranking me.”

Randall's shoulders relaxed. “I had a feeling it was something like that. Anyway, I knew you would insist on taking your oversized calamari so I had a travel container made for him.”

“A container for Ishmael?” Kora breathed a sigh of relief and then narrowed her eyes. “So you've been planning this whole trip in secret behind my back?”


And the wedding. I thought we could combine the product release celebration with our nuptials. Wouldn't that be dramatic? I have a whole team of our brightest synthetics working on it.

Randall was such a dork. He was lucky she didn't care about her own damn wedding.

Sounds very intimate.

“You're making fun of me.” Randall pressed a stiff finger into the table. “We've been working up to this for ten years, now.”

“The wedding or the project?”

“Both. Unfortunately, we have to go elsewhere to complete the project, but we'll make sure that you're comfortable in your temporary location. Please don't be difficult, Kora.”

“Not possible. What am I supposed to do in this place, anyway?”

“We have a transplant volunteer, but she refuses to leave her house.”

“Well I refuse to leave mine.  Find someone else.”

Randall dabbed a thin line of sweat from his brow with his napkin.  “It's not that simple, sweetheart.  It was all arranged a long time ago.”

“How come you've never mentioned it before?” Kora shielded her eyes.  She couldn't look at him right now because the setting sun had lit up his suit like a gas grill. 

“I never wanted to stress you out with all the business nonsense.  That's my headache, not yours.  You do the science and I do the books, remember? I just wish you understood that I do the work of two people around here.”

“Then why don't you get another business partner?”

For a moment, Randall looked confused and his face turned almost as red as his suit. “What do you mean by that?”

“Two people? I thought you were referring to your dead partner. Why not replace him?”

“Ah, you mean Mortimer Rothschild?” Randall pressed a hand to his chest. “No one could possibly replace him, and I'm afraid it would be a terrible insult to his widow who will be at the celebration next week where we introduce our new product. If it ever gets made.”

Kora had a bad feeling about this
product
. “Tell me more.”

Randall folded his napkin into a neat square. “As I was saying, the volunteer is an important investor who owns half the company, and promises were made a long time ago that I can't ignore.”

“Half the company.  I thought you owned it?”

“I wish. When we took you on as our prized employee a decade ago, we had to sell off half the stock.”

“To who?”

Randall paused to take a long drink from his glass of red wine.  “Your mother, Ruby Lazar.”

The floor fell out from under Kora like she was on some old-time carnival ride.  She felt suspended in midair before she dropped like a stone.  “Mother—I have a mother?”

“Every human has a mother, Kora.  She didn't want me to tell you until you'd been with us for exactly ten years and guess what?  Today marks your tenth anniversary with Mirafield.  And to celebrate, I proposed and built you your own fabulous restaurant.” 

Randall extended his arms and beamed at Kora like a car salesman, but she was sick of his expensive gifts.  The only reason he was giving her a stupid restaurant was he'd run out of everything else. Kora owned two islands she'd never been to, enough diamonds to fill a whole shop that she'd never worn, and a fleet of luxury cars she'd never driven because she didn't know how to drive.  He often let things drop about her past that didn't make sense. He knew more than he let on, but she never dreamed he was hiding her own mother from her. “Why didn't you tell me I had a family?”

“I'm sorry, my dear, but Ruby sort of kicked you out of the house. You needed medical attention, which we supplied, and when you woke up, you had amnesia.” Randall jerked at his tie until it hung loose around his neck.  “Anyway, Ruby gets to be our first human to synthetic brain transplant.”

“So that's what this is about?” said Kora in a loud voice, attracting the attention of Randall's top execs who were seated throughout the restaurant. They hovered around Randall like flies. Kora often wondered what they did all day because most of their work had been transferred to more qualified synthetics a long time ago. She lowered her voice. “How many times have I told you, I can't perform a full transplant. I can replace human organs with synthetic versions, but not the brain.”

A spark ignited in his brown eyes. “You could at least try. Ruby is up for the experiment and you owe this company everything. We saved your life.”

Kora's anger deflated. Maybe Randall had rescued her from some horrible, abusive home. “You miss my point,” she said. “Even if I wanted to do this procedure, I wouldn't know how.  It's impossible.  The human brain suffers irreparable damage during a transplant.  I make synthetic humans, not hybrids.”

“Churning out fantasy creatures for private estates and soldiers for foreign governments has paid the bills, but this project will mark a new beginning. It will become the pinnacle of what we do.”

They sat in silence, not looking at one another, until guilt wore Kora down.  “I'm not agreeing to go, but if I did, when would we leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.  Your lab is getting packed up as we speak.  That miserable squid has been a pain in the ass about the whole thing.  He battles the movers every time they try to box something up.”

Kora snorted.  “He probably thinks you're getting rid of stuff.”

“That's not the case. We went to the trouble of hiring a sign language interpreter so we could communicate with him, and he keeps repeating that you shouldn't go home.  That it won't be good for you.”

A chill crept through Kora and settled like ice in her bones.  Ishmael didn't want her to go.  “I'll be ready first thing in the morning.”

A sly smile stretched Randall's tight face and Kora knew she'd just been played. “Perfect. When should we come get you?”

“At nine,” said Kora, popping out of her chair. “I'm going to the ladies room.” She needed time alone to think.  Maybe going offsite this one time wasn't such a bad idea.  She could get answers to questions that Ishmael refused to answer like, who the hell was she and how did she end up at Mirafield?

The door to the ladies room was straight ahead, but Randall's synthetic assistant sat alone at the bar. Kora couldn't resist. Alex always looked the same: blond hair in a high ponytail, a tight black jumpsuit, and thick black eyeliner.  She was gorgeous, strong, an expert in martial arts, and all forms of weaponry.  She could break another synthetic's neck with her bare hands before he'd even opened his mouth to scream.  Scary and perfect, except for her feet.  Kora always messed up on something and in the case of Alex, she'd accidentally given the girl enormous feet.  Because of this glaring flaw, Mirafield couldn't sell Alex with the 048 fleet and Randall ordered Kora to dismantle her—a process Kora dreaded and worked hard to avoid, except in extreme cases. Unwilling to destroy her, Kora convinced Randall to take her on as an assistant and from that day on, Alex was Randall's lover. 

But that's not what bothered Kora. What drove Kora nuts was Alex's constant disrespect. Especially after all Kora had done to save the ungrateful witch. The one benefit to marrying Randall was she'd finally have the power to get rid of the menace. “You must be happy,” said Kora, sliding onto the stool next to Alex. “You've got Randall all to yourself for a week.” Kora leaned on the counter until she noticed a puddle of liquid not far from her elbow.  Alex had spilled some of her whisky.  “I didn't realize my synthetics could get drunk and sloppy. You have the liver of twenty men.”

“No wonder I have to drink so much,” said Alex in a husky voice. She took a swig straight from her bottle and then slammed it down. “And to answer your question, I'm thrilled to have Randall to myself for a week. Get rid of your nagging ass.”

“You might as well start packing your bags because when I get back, we're selling you off.”  The Saudi Arabian royals would buy her as a bodyguard. Last time they were at Mirafield, they'd loved Alex despite her bad attitude and size fifteen boots.

“Amazing what an idiot you are,” said Alex.

She was usually more subtle with her insults. A quick stab and a clever twist of the knife. “You know better than to talk to me that way,” said Kora. She winced at the sound of her own voice. Alex was right, she did sound like a nagging mother.

Alex took a long drink and then wiped her mouth on her sleeve.  She was on a roll. “For all your brilliance—you made me after all—you're the most ignorant sack of shit that ever walked the earth.”

Kora had never hit one of her creations before, but anger coursed through her and she raised her hand to slap Alex.  To her amazement, Alex's shoulders curled and she cowered on her stool.  Kora lowered her arm and they stared at one another.  “You're afraid of me.”

Alex grabbed another whisky bottle and pried off the top.  “I'm chipped, remember? So dangerous monsters like me can't crush the skulls of precious little humans like you.”

“That doesn't explain why you're afraid.”

“I'm not. I just get a bit jumpy when I'm drunk. Now if you would excuse me, I'd like to be left alone with this next bottle. You're throwing off my rhythm.” Alex spun around on her stool so her back was to Kora.

“I'm not through talking to you.”

“Too bad.”

“Alex—I wouldn't get rid of you if you stopped acting so superior and remembered your place.”

“You mean under your fiancé in bed?”

Kora closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I'm human, your creator, and I'm marrying Randall.  Most likely.” 
What choice did she have?
“You're nothing more than a pretty toy to him.”

Alex spun back around to face Kora. “I'm reminded of that fact a hell of a lot more than you realize, Doctor.  One day, I hope you experience what it's like to be a toy. Something that can be smashed to pieces and thrown away when it no longer amuses anyone.”

 

From high up in the helicopter, Kora's lab tower looked like a glacier while the rest of Mirafield was covered in tropical gardens, sparkling lakes, and endless golf courses. Beyond the walls were crumbling buildings flooded by a sea of cars that flashed like dirty insects in the sun. As far as Kora was concerned, there was nothing beyond her Eden. Randall once said that all of Santa Monica was an ugly mess before the government collapse when he and his late business partner, Mortimer Rothschild, bought up one dreary street after another and built Mirafield right in the center like a towering church.
“Science is the new religion
,” Randall always told her. 
“And you are the high priestess.  Together we will rule the world.”

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