Cybil (2018) #projectsuper

Chapter 2: The Fifth One

As James disengaged the tubes suspending in the air his latest... Project? No. Just the thought of considering any of his children as "projects" or anything so dehumanizing did nothing short of making him want to throw up.

He would release his daughter not only from this this tube, but from a much larger prison of which he was trapped in.

To think, her only means of escape stood there admiring her as if she were a new car...

"Ooh, impressive! I've gotta say, you've outdone yourself with this one!"

"'This one' is a girl, you overgrown..." James snapped, clamping his mouth shut with the realization that he might've just killed himself with those words.

He got hands put up in defense as his response. "Easy, easy. I know, I know." He turned to the woman.

"Commence boot-up routine, Number 6."

Before James could say anything about his own daughter being referred to as a number, a calming, familiar softspoken voice hit his ears.

"Boot-up routine commenced. Condition: green. Designation: Wester Solutons Model No. 6. Codename: Cybil."

It was spoken with the very Italian lilt "inherited" from her mother.

Her dark eyes opened for the first time. She looked ahead and spoke with all the passion of an assault rifle.

"Confirm Operators."

The large man stepped up first. "Operator: Michael Arsenio Fuller."

"Operator 1 Confirmed: Michael Arsenio Fuller. Confirm Operator."

James stepped up almost on instinct. "Operator: Jameson Lincoln McDougal."

"Operator confirmed. Processing... Clear for deployment."

"Stand by, Cybil," Fuller instructed before turning to James with a gesture which was more rehearsed than anything. "Let's get on with it."

With an inward groan, James began. " Number 6, AKA Cybil is, by far, the most highly advanced example of the fusion of man and machine seen by this world so far."

"Debatable," Fuller interrupted, "But continue."

"Capable of going to any length to complete her missions, there will be no limit to what she could do."

Stroking his beard, the big man asked, "What are the combat capabilities of your latest project?"

"Programmed with multiple forms of martial arts, she is properly equipped to escape from, defeat, or kill any enemy, should they interfere at all with the mission she is given."

...combat capabilities that she'll never have to use, James thought, though he knew that that idea was nothing more than wishful thinking. He knew what the last 30 years had been like...

"What about non-combat capabilities?"

"Lacking no noticeable deformities, she will be able to blend in perfectly with the surrounding populace."

"Impressive. So, I'm to believe that we won't have anymore issues like..." Fuller's voice lowered to a whisper. "Numbers 2-5."

"They are not issues!" James yelled at Fuller, not realizing he was breaking character. "And there's nothing wrong with them."

Fuller grabbed him by the collar. "Want to get any louder? I don't think Wester and his goons heard you clearly enough!"

That got James quiet very quickly. The last thing he wanted was to give that maniac an excuse to send his Gestapo after his remaining relatives.

"Now Cybil," Fuller said to the girl in front of them. "Your first mission...is to break this man's arm!"

Fuller stepped out of the way, gesturing to James. He didn't even have time to scream before the emotionless girl pounced to complete her mission.