Page 28 of Seductive Architect
“Could it be…”
The evidence was there. A machine driven by artificial intelligence. The lack of information prior to his employment. Even his ability to fight with Prism’s goons, the evidence had me mentally tying one theory to the next. Hudson wasn’t just a primitive robot delivering mail…
Holy shit. “He’s a super soldier.” I almost missed the truth.
“Back!” Connie said. “Oh, what’s this? A text from our mailroom stud? We’re going to need to go shopping. I’m not letting you go on a date looking like that.”
“Sure,” I said, unable to string together a coherent thought.
“Seems Mr. Package for Orion left you speechless.”
That he did… and I had no idea what to do with that info.
“He’s late,” Connie said.
I still hadn’t told her about Hudson. I read her diagnostic report, and everything checked out. Every time I suited up and went out to save the city, I trusted Connie with my life. For some reason, I held back this morsel of information. There were dozens of red strings connecting theories to Hudson, but that wasn’t what kept me from confessing his secret. Ever since our lunch date at the taco truck, I had become entangled. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be wrong.
“Don’t you have a date?” I asked.
“Well, look at the time! Good luck. Don’t double-click his mouse too hard.” With her last words of encouragement, Connie vanished. To ensure she didn’t check in, I set my phone to airplane mode.
I glanced up at the giant letters, surrounded by blinking lights. “Skye’s Arcade.” It had been an institution in Vanguard for as long as I could remember. Windows made up the front of the building, letting kids passing by see the hundreds of video games inside. My parents avoided this street when we went to the grocery store. They knew if I caught sight of the hundreds of flashing screens, I’d beg to go inside.
“Don’t get mushy,” I reminded myself. “You’re here to do a job.”
If I could figure out Hudson’s tie to Synergy, or the senator, oranything, I could scratch a dozen projects off the wall.
“Which first?” I spun about to see Hudson staring at the sign high above the door. “Games or food?”
I let my powers flare and thrust them at Hudson. Unlike before, I couldn’t keep up with the code. Millions of calculations were happening at once. Just because I could talk to machines didn’t mean I always understood their language. Simple machines spoke with simple functions. Hudson, on the other hand, existed because of intelligence that made Connie look like a calculator. I took a step back, legs trembling. My powers met their match. I’d have to rely on good ol’ detective work.
“Games,” I said. “Always games.”
When he held out his hand, I hesitated. Last night,those hands had roamed along my chest, and if I thought too hard, it’d be followed by an ache for more. As much as I wanted to refer to him as an it, and focus on the things that kept him from being human, I came back to the slobbery kiss. I had let my personal life intersect with my professional, and now I couldn’t unravel where one ended and the other began.
I took his hand, letting my fingers lace with his. He gave my hand a squeeze… a very human squeeze. This made him dangerous. Too easy to forget what I was here to do. Programmed or not, he knew exactly how to lower my guard.
Before I could open my mouth, he lunged forward, dragging me along. Maybe I could balance this…allof it. I’d get the information, challenge a handsome man to some video games, and kiss him. Just because he was notquitehuman didn’t mean he’d turn into a villain I’d need to wrestle with.
Inside, Hudson’s expression didn’t look much different from mine as a kid. I fed money into the token machine. I scooped up the handful of coins, dropping a bunch in his hand. He hardly noticed as he glanced between the pinball machines, fighting games, and Skee ball.
“What first?” I expected fighting games, or maybe one requiring shooting targets. A super soldier with the ability to decimate a team of goons? He’d want to test his metal against?—
“That one!” Skeet ball? “How do you play?”
While we waited for a couple of kids to finish their game, I explained the rules. When the child cheered, grabbing a long rope of tickets, Hudson’s eyebrow went up.
“You play for tickets. When you’re done, you can cash them in for a prize.” If he were the perfect killing machine, he certainly didn’t act like it. “Don’t get too excited, the prizes are horrible.”
He dropped in a token, and the balls came rolling down the side, ready to test his hand-eye coordination. Hudson picked up a ball, wrapping his fingers around it as he closed one eye as if he were taking aim.
“So, what did you do before working at Synergy?”
His first pitch had so much energy, it missed all the holes. If he were a super soldier, sinking it in the hundred-point hole should have been child’s play. This required less skill than hurling a car door like a boomerang. He pouted until a small blue ticket appeared from the machine. “I worked in a lab.”
“Really? What type?”
He took aim with the second ball. “Tech stuff. They created machines.” I suspected he told the truth, or at least enough, it’d be impossible to detect the lie. “I prefer the mailroom. People are happy when the mail shows up. Much better than scientists.”
