Page 75 of Cruel Master
She glances at me, then back at Hadrian. “She’s my best friend, and you don’t care about her. You don’t give a fuck.”
“Of course I care!” I jump at the sudden, raw emotion in Hadrian’s voice. “I care about her deeply, but I can’t risk the Brotherhood. I can’t…”
He shakes his head, takes a deep breath, and addresses the woman who tried to intervene before. She’s pretty and painfully young. Is she a captive? According to Hadrian, she has to be. He told me the Wards have to be at least twenty-one. Whichever bastard stole this poor girl must have snatched her up on her fucking birthday.
She’s staring at me, too, with the same freaked-out expression the other couple showed. She doesn’t hide it as fast and gives a guilty jump when Hadrian speaks.
“Eve. Take Quinn home before she does something she’ll regret.” His voice is all calm authority again, but he’s not fooling me this time. His hands are clenched, his jaw tight. He’s only just holding it together. What in the hell is…
She’s just offline.
The words echo in my head, and a horrible suspicion unfurls deep in my gut. True, sentient AI was always Hadrian’s obsession. If what he’s told me about the Brotherhood is actually true, there can only be one thing he’s doing.
Creating life. Sentient, electronic life.
A cold trickle makes its way up my spine as the tiny woman’s face crumples. “I don’t want to fight. I just want to know she’s okay. Can I please just talk to Candice? Even if it’s just for a minute.”
Candice.
Oh my God.
In the early days, before Hadrian’s research got scary and I realized how out of control his project was, we used to joke about what he should call his first intelligent creation. I cameup with Candice because I said a robot needed a ridiculous, overcomplicated acronym that made no sense.
Cybernetic Deep Intelligence Composite Entity.
CDICE.
Candice.
It’s what we started calling his project. He stuck with it, and now he’s created something real enough that a woman is grieving over her.
He did it.
He really did it.
The tiny woman snaps, “Do you hear me? I said I want to—”
A new, deep voice with a harsh London accent says, “Quinn. Settle down, love.”
I look up to see a giant of a man striding over. The tiny woman whirls on him. “You can’t keep me away from him forever. He needs to—”
The man scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder as if he’s picking up a sack of potatoes.
What the fuck?
She screeches and hammers on his back, but the giant doesn’t seem to feel it. He glances at me, and there’s no shock on his face. No double take. The reaction is so different from the others that it highlights how weird their reaction to me was. He speaks to Hadrian, voice raised over the tiny woman’s yells.
“Sorry, mate. This shouldn’t have happened today. My fault.”
“No problem. Thank you.”
Watching the two men having a polite conversation while one holds a shrieking woman over his shoulder might top all the other bizarre things that have happened today, but I’m not even keeping score any more. The big guy nods and walks off,leaving just the young woman and the people who had stopped to watch.
The onlookers quickly dissipate, but the woman lingers. She speaks to Hadrian directly, and I’m struck by the lack of formality, though her tone is polite. Hadrian told me to address all Brothers as Sir. None of the other women here seemed to get that instruction.
“Sorry about that. I thought some fresh air might do her some good. She’s been…” She shakes her head, then looks at me and holds out her hand. “Hello. I’m Eve.”
I shake it automatically. “Juliet.”
