be able to take a hint at all. “Yes. Thank you for the information, Lyle. Now if you’ll just hand over Peyton 313’s wrist controller, you can be happily on your way with another job-well-done stamp on your record. I’m sure you’ve got lots of other deliveries to make.” She watched Lyle shaking his head steadily over her words even as he relinquished the wrist unit to her outstretched hand. Her fingers slid over the buttons until she found the restraint one. She waited until Lyle was halfway down the sidewalk before turning to Peyton. Raising a finger to her lips, she watched his pupils fluctuate in acknowledgement as she released him from the circulating pain. Kyra kept her tone abnormally cheery in case Lyle was still within hearing range. “Hello, Peyton. You’re even better looking than your online profile. Let’s go inside and get acquainted.” His simple nod as she ushered him through her front door was promising. ***
Free of the debilitating current at last, Peyton’s body got busy with his muscle recovery. In twenty minutes and four seconds, his muscles would be functioning at optimal capacity again. Before he’d developed his organic neural bypass, recovery would have taken several hours. The bypass hurt like hell to use, but it was effective and outside the control of the cybernetic chips embedded in his brain. He had even been able to recover some blocked memories, such as his original name and highest military service achievement. While he followed Dr. Kyra Winters indoors, he reviewed what he’d learned. His name was Peyton Elliot. His rank was Marine Captain. He was forty-seven years old in human years but his body was in the physical condition of a twenty-five-year-old right down to his remaining organs. Part of that was the efficiency of his new cybernetic heart pump. He had wife number seven to thank for that. She’d run him through with a kitchen knife when he had refused to do something humiliating. But that incident wasn’t his first husband failure. Wife number two had upgraded him when he’d pretended to be stupid for a time. In fact, every wife had done something new to him, except for wife number six who had done nothing. She had just wanted his company. He had liked wife number six. He had been disappointed when she’d turned him in after meeting a non-cyborg man she had wanted to marry. He could list facts about each of his ten wives to date, but none had been worth the memory space each now took up in his long-term storage. He had made sure his time with each of them had been as short as possible without raising concerns. If there was a plus to his current husband contract with Dr. Kyra Winters, being chosen again would provide the additional time he needed to finish researching his memories beyond his cybernetic data banks. He was trying to extrapolate enough data from those brain areas to piece together a story his human side could recall as his past. Those who worked on him at Norton had thought they made him a blank slate with each upgrade, but none of the routine memory wipes of his chips had worked completely on him. Data remained stored out of the reach of every new code and eventually he learned how to bring it forward. Maybe his success was because he had early on taught his physical body to live in harmony with his cybernetic parts. A few years ago he had figured out what Norton had done to him and afterward vowed never again to forget who he was supposed to be. The number of his organic bypasses continued to expand though it took a painfully long time to grow each of them. He knew about time only because he had developed a method of tracking it outside of his primary processor’s programming. By his calculations it had been thirteen years, two months, and four days ago since he had received the combat modifications that had turned him into a Cyber Solider. He had learned that the Cyber Husband program was the UCN’s version of military retirement for