He stretched and yawned before slinging his feet around to the side of the bed. His senses felt as they had the morning of his Awakening. He felt the soft carpet between his toes, smelled the cigarette smoke in his hair from the club hoping with Johnny and his friends. If he concentrated hard, he could see dust motes in the air where the sun broke from around the curtains.

          Something flashed on the phone to his right. He had a message.

          "Mac, it's Doc. I got some information on what we discovered yesterday. Give me a call and I can be over there as soon as you're ready."

          Mac jotted down the number on the complimentary pad and dialed it immediately.

          Doc answered on the third ring. "Thought that'd be you."

          "Is it bad?" He couldn't stop the anxious quiver in his voice. He'd not thought about the objects the entire time he'd been with Johnny and his friends. It's like I've been on a vacation. I feel, relaxed. Nervous, but relaxed.

          Weird.

          "Now, now. Just calm yourself. I can be over there in a couple of hours."

          Mac checked the clock. It was after 10:00am. "Noon? I can order brunch."

          "That'd be nice. Mimosas if you don't mind. Your suite would be the best place to talk."

          Even after the connection terminated, Mac held the buzzing receiver for a few minutes as he took several breaths. He couldn't tell by listening to her voice what it meant. She didn't seem panicked, or afraid. Though he'd never known any Euthanotos to be afraid. I am.

          I'm terrified. Now. Suddenly. There are things in my head.

          He set the receiver down carefully and let himself shake. He hadn't reacted fully to what had happened yesterday. Not with the beating, or the nosebleed. The night out had helped, but nothing could stop the overwhelming feeling of panic that overtook him. He gripped the side of the mattress and lowered his head as he shook from head to toe.

          Get a hold of yourself. Don't let your imagination run away with you. Get a shower. You smell like a nightclub.

          A shower would help. It would wash away the last of what had been done to him. No...don't fool yourself. Nothing will.

          But I can pretend.

          After the shower he ordered the largest brunch they served. It arrived on time at noon. The room smelled of country bacon, capers, hazel-nut coffee, buttered eggs, crepes and orange juice. Minutes after the hotel staff left, Doc arrived. Dressed in a turquoise dyed linen dress and soft beige shoes, the doctor strode purposefully inside with a kiss to his cheek. Her hair was loose and fell about her shoulders.

          He showed her to the sun-deck of his suite. It was a room he didn't know existed until the staff set up the brunch. The roof branched out over a half covered deck. A pleasant breeze came in through the openings as he pulled her chair out for her, then sat to her right.

          "Oh, this looks nice. And you got Mimosas..." she immediately took a sip and smiled. "And I also know you won't eat a bite until I tell you what I've found out."

          He gave her a sheepish grin but remained quiet.

          Doc narrowed her eyes. "Mac...have you ever had any hard-wiring done on a voluntary basis?"

          "Hard wiring?" He shook his head. "Not that I am aware of." Which is the truth.

          "First, let me get to these," she reached down into her bag and pulled out a tissue bundle. Inside were the objects from yesterday. She sat them on the table. "One of these is an Inhibitor. Nice piece of work, but like I said, shoddy installation."

          "Inhibitor? Inhibiting what?"

          "Your magic is what we assume. My suspicion is your Father inserted this in," she reached out with her index finger and touched his forehead in the center. He felt a cold chill and shivered. She sat back. "Three years ago."

          That was after I was married. "He wanted to inhibit magic? He didn't want me to Awaken, which means he knew I would."

          "Doesn't matter. I'm sure your psych report showed something as up and he being a Progenitor, didn't want the embarrassment of a Mage in the family. Now most Progenitors simply prescribe tablets, medicines to suppress magical ability. But this," she nodded. "This, like I said, is a nice device. Only your will was too strong, and you Awakened anyway. It was the Inhibitor that caused the headaches."

          Mac blinked at the objects. He reached out and picked up the small, square one. "This..."

          "Is it. Right. If it had been inserted correctly, you'd have never known it was there. I'm sure the punches from yesterday aided dislodging it. Like I said, shoddy work."

          He knew... Mac stared at the small thing. So tiny. My father knew. The dream... my mother's voice... He knew I would be a mage. "He tried to stop me..."

          Doc leaned forward. "It's what they do, Mac." She put her hand over his hand and gently helped him return the object to the table. "Now this," she picked up the cylinder. "This - is a tracking device."

          He narrowed his eyes. "Tracking device?"

          She nodded. "My guess is he's been keeping tabs on you."

          Mac gripped the table as the world spun. He was going to be sick.

          She touched his arm. "Steady..."

          No... The mother fucker has known all along where I was...what I was doing...who I am now. But the Dossiers...what do they mean? He knows my location - he could could have come after me at any time. Only... He looked at Doc. "W-why... why keep tabs on me? Why.." why kill my wife?

          He couldn't stop his mind from reeling with questions. Why did he come for me? Why did she have to die? If he intended on taking me in, to recruit me...why the tracking?

          "I can see you're not taking this well," Doc took up a croissant and bit into it. "Mac, I'm not going to say what I know about you, because that would only make you sicker.."

          He looked at her.

          "But what I will say is this: we don't know why. We don't know what made him try to suppress your magic in this way. We don't know why he never brought you into the Union to brainwash you. In instances like this the reason usually points to the mother - that perhaps she prevented him from doing it. He's had plenty of opportunity, hasn't he? You've been known as Mac for over two years now." She put up her hand when he opened his mouth to speak. She held up the cylinder again. "Sooner or later, he's going to know this isn't doing what it's suppose to do. He's going to know you're... free."

          Free.

          She leaned forward. "Now, listen to me. What I said yesterday is true - there is some beautiful Progenitor work in that noggin of yours. Beautiful work, but old. Unfinished."

          Mac looked at her. He felt empty. Drained. A shell - his life since Maouri's death had been a lie. He was spying on me. My friends. My associates. Everyone. "I'm hardwired. I already have prep-work."

          "Exactly. Don't sell that short, Mac. You have a potential in there."

          Potential. Johnny's voice came to him. There is always potential, you just have to help it along.

          "Potential for what?"

          "Mac, you're new. Young. Not much in the Traditions, I'm assuming. But Virtual Adepts come in two camps. Those that work on the hardware - the ones that juice their machines. They have their laptops and devices - they read their William Gibson and junk up what's left of the digital web. They have their phones and their calculators, all designed to do one thing; carry, discover, hack, deliver - information. But you," she leaned forward and pointed at him. "You have the potential for the other camp. You can become the hardware."

          "Come again?"

          "You have the opportunity to be upgraded. Few Adepts attempt this - mainly because of what you said. Prep work. It's Progenitor and Iteration goo. Too risky. And expensive. Most Adepts that are hard wired like you are those that Awakened afterward, then turned traitor to join the Adept ranks."

          He felt his shoulders round as he slumped forward, his elbows on the table. He put his head in his hands. "I...what good will it do me?"

          She widened her eyes. "You would no longer be bound by peripheral hardware. Even to work Rotes you wouldn't need anthing more than the will of your mind to execute them. Now mind you, I'm not really open for this. It's not my schtick, but if I was an Adept, I'd use what they put in me against them."

          He perked up. "Against them?"

          "Why not? They spied on you. Spy on them. Upgrade and turn the tables. Use these goodies in your battle with the Technocratic Union. The work in your head is so good, so seamless, grown there for purpose, that if I hadn't sensed these goodies," she glanced at the tracker and inhibitor, "then I wouldn't have noticed. You have an optic port, an IR at the base of your brain, a port in your left ear and one beneath your left molar. Unbelievable work."

          Mac tentatively put his hands to the back of his head. "I have them...?"

          She reached up and put her hand to the base of his skull and rubbed. "Here...I can just feel the connections."

          He traced over where her fingers were. There, just beneath the surface, he could feel something round, like the top of a 2 liter Coke container. Hollow. If he pressed, he believed he could punch his finger through the flesh and into the opening. "I'm a cyborg.."

          "No you are not. But you do have Cyborg technology with Progenitor touches. You're unique, Mac. Potentially."

          Mac ducked his head. "I think I'm going to be sick."

          "Fine. Go to the bathroom. I'm going to finish my brunch."

          Once in the bedroom he went to the mirror again and stared at himself. Potential. Use it against them. Faster processing. Could I really do it? Huang had it all planned out for him. And now this Euthanatos had confirmed the prep work done - she had answered some of the questions he'd hoped to ask Calen.

          It was put in so long ago.

          With a glance at the sundeck, Mac dialed Trent and made him listen - to everything. The fight, the nosebleed, the transmitter and inhibitor. He relayed it all.

          And then he waited for his Mentor's response.

          Trent was less than happy. "Tracking device? What the hell for? So your father's just been watching you like a blip on a radar? Tracking your movements? Kyle...does this mean he knows where we are? I'm afraid I'm going to have to declare us compromised."

          Mac opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. "It's my fault."

          "You didn't know, my boy." Trent sighed. "But, we're going to have to move our operations, for now, until our spies can declare this still a safe haven."

          "It think that with these enhancements, I could do that. Trent, with what Huang's offered me..."

          "No. Under no circumstances should you take this offer. Now...I believe in the Avalon Group's intentions, and I too fear what this Damien Sterling might do. There's no need to put more Union garbage in your head."

          "But I can use it against them, Trent." He looked at his face in the mirror. "I have too. I'm taking this mission. The enhancments would help everyone tremendously."

          "You can help out with your ibook. Or your magic."

          "It's not the same."

          "Mac...Kyle...please, listen to me." Trent's voice as soft. "You don't know what they're going to do. They're Union. They could put all kinds of programs in your head - Rotes that you'd never notice until..."

          But it was too late. Mac had made up his mind. He listened to Trent for a few more minutes and hung up. There couldn't be anymore discussion.

          Doc was readying herself to leave as he walked back in. "You have a Mentor?"

          He nodded. Had she been listening? "I do as of now."

          She ignored his comment. "Good - because something occurred to me. Your father, or whomever it was that put those things in your head, might try to invade your thoughts. You can read minds?"

          "Just surface thoughts."

          "Doesn't matter. That's enough. Have your mentor teach you some techniques to keep your mind shut out. Password protect it or what have you. Just make sure nobody else gets in. And here," she handed him two more packets of pills."Those'll finish up the healing in case you had any more internal bleeding up there." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you okay?"

          "Yeah, I'm fine."

          "Good. Then I'll see you later." She ambled to the door and turned as he joined her. "It'll clear those bruises from your face in a day." She winked and left.

          Mac collapsed against the door and slid down to a seated position. He had never gone against his Mentor's advice. Not since his Awakening. Trent had never lead him astray or given him the wrong advice. I can't let this opportunity get past me. He wired my head for better things - I might as well use them to my advantage. I'm sorry about the Atlanta group - and maybe I can help them. I'm sorry Trent - But I have to get this done.

          He needed to call Hiss Huang as soon as possible. It was already nearing two on Friday. They met again on Monday.

          It was several minutes before he found her card. He used his Treo to make the call.

          "Yes Mr. Mcgyver."

          Okay...I wasn't expecting her to answer the phone like that. "Hi..yes...I'm calling about..."

          "Everything's prepared. We will send someone for you when the car is ready." The connection severed.

          They knew. He went back to the mirror. They always know...don't they?

          Now, the important thing was... would his father know?

          Two grueling hours later a construct came to his door. Mac had changed into a simple tee-shirt, jeans and sneakers. The man in white instructed him to bring his tools, and nothing more. Mac gathered his things and followed them out.

          As they flanked him through the lobby, Mac caught sight of Trevor and Sheila, having either an early dinner or late lunch in the casino restaurant. They waved at him and he smiled, though Trevor's expression became stern as he noticed the constructs. Mac shook his head and followed them out the door.

          A white limosine waited and he climbed in.

          Miss Huang sat in the back. Holly David sat to her right. "Told you I'd be seeing you later," she winked.

          "You?" He looked at Miss Huang, who smiled at him.

          "Miss David has worked with us on several occasions. This, is Mr. Richard Mannis, also of the Avalon group. He'll be overseeing the installation."

          Mac turned. He'd not noticed the man before sitting next to him. Mannis was perhaps in his early thirties with a warm smile. He shook Mac's hand with enthusiasm. "I'm to make the necessary connections." He beamed at Doc. "Miss David's been filling me in on the work that's been done in there. I can't wait to see for myself."

          Mac wasn't sure how he should take that. He smiled at the man as the limo drove off. "We're going where?"

          "My clinic," Doc said. "Sterile environment. And safe. Completely free of Union bugs. Now," she leaned forward. "This isn't going to hurt - much - and I'm only telling you that because you're whiter than a construct's uniform." She smiled. "The surgery will happen tonight, once we arrive. I'm going to have to purge your stomach..."

          Great...

          "...but luckily you didn't eat much. Recovery will take most of tomorrow. Then you'll need Sunday with Richard. He'll train you in how to use your new toys."

          "You're going to love this." Richard nodded.

          Mac looked at each of them, at their smiling faces. He focused on Huang. "You knew about the tacking device and the inhibitor?"

          "No, we did not. We analyzed them, and told what we discovered of their mechanics to Miss David, who gave the information to you. No one can know the mind of your father."

          He shook his head. "I guess not. But this process..." he looked at her. "Can it be reversed?"

          "Oh. Yes. Safely. But once it's in, I doubt you'll want to go back to what you are now."

          "You make it sound as if I'm going to be more than what I am."

          Miss Huang smiled. "You will have the potential to be."

(Written with Rachelle Udell)

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