Chapter 5

Once I am completely relaxed, I find that random images are surfacing in my memory cortex. I lack the energy to suppress them, so I simply allow them to run their course.

Perhaps these images aren't so random. I am recalling the first few months after I was constructed. I was a new prototype, and the Federation wasn't sure I would ultimately be of any use to them. I had been placed in a storage facility on the planet Mir, where I remained, until…

Until my foster father rescued me. He found me in the facility, and took me back, across the galaxy, to his home. He talked to me, treating me as an equal. I can see him now, picture his smile, see his eyes flashing animatedly as he spoke. He gave me the love, and respect, that I have come to realize I crave.

Of course, he did have a few tasks for me to perform, but as it turned out, they were all meant for future execution. He inserted the necessary knowledge and instructions into my protected memory, and told me that when the time came, I would know what to do.

Funny, I hadn't thought about this for nearly a decade. I guess that unnecessary information like this just tends to bury itself in my databanks.

Until it is required.

Why is this memory surfacing now? Is it time to execute my foster father's instructions?

Concluding my oil break, I move over to my secondary work station. On impulse, I call up the information Chief Anderson had sent to me in file 624. The video of the Spectran mecha passes before me. My visual systems seem to focus on the mecha's blinking light.

The pattern no longer seems random.

It is making sense to me. It was flashing a code.

…7-X2-1321…

My antennae stand straight up. No… it can't be…

X is toward the end of the alphabet. Two letters after X comes… Z.

The sum of the last four digits: 1, 3, 2 and 1 is… 7.

The code is 7-Z-7.

It was named after me.

88888

It has been three hours since I made the discovery that the code was directed at me. And I still do not know what this means. Had I created a code that was intended to surface at some time in the future? To trigger my databanks when Spectra developed a certain technology?

Strange, when I think about this, I can barely recall what I have learned. But when I let it drift into my subconscious, ideas come to me.

I am still contemplating this when Chief Anderson's image appears on my viewscreen.

"How are those implant re-alignment specifications coming, Zark?" he asks, by way of greeting.

I am startled. I have actually forgotten about my unfinished task. This is completely unlike me.

"They are nearly complete, Chief!" I report, not showing any signs of being startled by his query. "I will have them for you first thing in the morning." I promise.

"That's fine, Zark." the Chief replies. "I'll let the technicians know to expect them."

My viewscreen goes blank.

How unlike Chief Anderson is from my foster father. He would never have started or ended a conversation so rudely. He would have included all of the niceties, saying 'Hello' and 'Goodbye'… treating me as if I were a live person, and not just a robot.

A sense of righteous indignation fills me. It's a strange emotion for a robot, but at this moment it's all I can think about.

And suddenly, I remember what my foster father wanted of me. I can see him, almost as if he were standing in front of me at this moment. His glossy lips speaking to me, his eyes flashing behind his cat-like mask, his purple cape draped over his body.

"The time will come, Zark," he says, "When I will want you to destroy G-Force."

My response is automatic.

"Yes, my Lord Zoltar."

88888

As the memories and instructions come flooding back to me, I know what I must do. My foster father hadn't wanted a crude, glancing blow. He had wanted me to strike from within. To rot the G-Force team from the core. And almost immediately, I know who my primary target will be.

Jason.

Humming a jaunty tune, I quickly finish the implant re-alignment specifications, as requested by Chief Anderson, and send them to the technicians. In the morning, my instructions will be carried out.

And I will have my revenge.