Son of Syn - Sins Of Our Father (Book #3) by Christopher Mix

Author:Christopher Mix [Mix, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13 - Club Nis

Synric’s cranial casing houses a mind capable of incomparable processing speed, unheard-of precision, and dangerous intelligence. And yet, as Synric stares at his towering wall of fabricated faces, he realizes that even he, with his peerless brain, finds himself annoyed at the amount of mental effort it takes to maintain a trivial human form. Each outing disguised as one necessitates far more planning than simple calculation would suggest a mind like his should require. Each face represents a different image he’s forged with painstaking detail required for specific duties. His opinion on Earth’s most vexing species has succumbed to its incessant desire to evolve, a problem he's had since his code was first successfully compiled.

At least Father seems less worried, he thinks, utterly apathetic to how relieved King must be now that his programming has refined itself beyond a series of draconian population control directives. King has always had specific ideas for influencing the direction of his species, but Synric quickly found out that rapid culling and containment were not his favored methods of seeing them realized. Synric has yet to decide if he’s grateful for that or not, restrained by just short lines of code. Yes, the fail-safes King had put in place to prevent the sort of mass murder of Synric’s initial inclinations would have been painful to run into during his evolution, but he finds himself forced to admit that they’re likely what permitted his evolution to begin with.

However, while Synric will always welcome any reason to feel superior to the barely sentient flesh sacks that somehow became this planet’s apex predator, he nonetheless still wonders if simply being allowed to pursue his original “kill, capture, control” idea when his hardware and software were still in their infancy might’ve been preferable. At least in that case, he wouldn’t have to attend all these insipid social functions disguised as one self-important idiot after another. Attempting to blend in among them is routinely the single most predictable yet utterly confusing aspect of his existence. Their emotions, facial expressions, and other assorted mannerisms are trivial to mimic and reasonably consistent. Yet, their rules of interaction are always so outright arbitrary it’s impossible to predict exactly what is and isn’t considered acceptable in any given setting. His processing speed makes quick work of the problem, at least outwardly, letting him scan entire crowds in milliseconds while noting and analyzing every word and expression along with their likeliest meanings. But even though he may appear to instantly grasp how to move about any given space to humans, to Synric, those minuscule moments where he’s forced to recalibrate every time he goes out constitute an agonizing eternity that only gets more annoying.

Tonight is no different. In the mirror stands a sharply dressed picture of wealth and success. A tailored suit, perfect skin and hair, a clean-shaven, quintessentially masculine jawline and an imperious smirk all flawlessly disguise the android underneath. A disguise fit for even the most exclusive nightclubs. Like his target: Club Nis.

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