SynTracker | ONC 2021 | MM Romance | Sci-Fi | Complete

Six: Tuesday

Ian woke up just before dawn on Tuesday with the feeling something wasn't right.

Something other than his missing husband, other than the gaping void in his life. Something, even, other than his ever-present migraine.

He brought up his alarm on the nexus: undisturbed. Taser in hand, he turned on the light and got up to scan the house for himself. Nothing seemed to be amiss. He brought up the garage's closed-circuit camera on the nexus. As he'd left it, hours before. Except...

A quick glance out the window confirmed dawn was slowly spilling outside. In the garage vid, everything was dark.

Someone had hacked his security system.

The Syn was on the loose.

The taser would be useless on a Syn, but the Nuller would rip a human thief apart with no mercy. He compromised, switching the taser for his gun. Then he put on his work boots and ran outside, wearing nothing but his pyjama bottoms.

The garage door was closed, just as he'd left it. Gun securely in his grip, he checked the perimeter. The side window was wide open, all but confirming his fears. When he unlocked the front door, there was no question in his mind that he'd find the garage empty.

The Syn was where he'd left it, powered down in the corner. There was no one else there.

His manuals were out of order, and there was a box of Nuller charges on the floor. If anything else was out of place, he wouldn't know it until he ran a thorough check. Could someone really have broken in for something other than the Syn?

It could be a setup. And, if that was the case and the Syn was only pretending to be powered down, Ian couldn't risk going back inside for the Nuller. He pointed the gun straight at the Syn and circled it, slow and careful, until his own back was to the wall. Grabbing the knife from his boot, he sliced a familiar path on the Syn's back. Clever of the builders, to hide the panel in this particular spot; a human wouldn't survive slicing this deep unless they were on an operating table.

It was turned off for real. If it was a setup, this wasn't it.

Even after twenty years, watching skin seal automatically over a disabled Syn's panel was nothing if not disturbing, but today it barely registered. Someone had been in his garage. It took him over an hour to relax his stance, reasonably convinced no one was coming back for the Syn. Ian closed the window and locked the garage door with an uneasy feeling, hating that he no longer had a security system he trusted.

He was chilled to the bone; he needed a warm shower, warm clothes, food, and painkillers. Anti-emetics too, if he planned on keeping his breakfast down. These adrenaline spikes were worsening his concussion, he knew. But Quentin was out there, relying on Ian to find him.

Hacking the street cameras outside his house was almost an afterthought over breakfast. As expected, they'd been disabled just before the break-in.

Unexpectedly, they'd been on for the getaway. Quentin's Syn double had been in their garage.

It felt like the worst kind of violation, confirmation that the thing was still wearing Quentin's face, breaking into a garage that was also Quentin's, in their home. And, once again, Quentin's husband hadn't noticed it happening; had been useless.

The key to Quentin's freedom had been just outside the house, and Ian hadn't bothered to wake up in time to catch it. If he weren't so worried about the memory banks being destroyed, he'd subcontract a Tracker once the codes came in. He was clearly not up to task.

And it didn't bode well for Quentin that this Syn had broken into the garage. It meant whatever it'd been looking for, it had been to do with Ian, not Quentin.