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almost skin-like ring of pressure around their home planet.
    For a moment, none of them spoke. While Avion sucked in lungfuls of air—damned human system required oxygenated breaths—the others forgot to breathe, all their focus attuned elsewhere.
    “I don’t detect any incoming missiles or threats,” Kyle announced.
    “A scan of surface communication frequencies shows no unusual messaging or indication that anyone thinks we are anything other than what we appear,” Aphelion added.
    “Goddamn it. Maybe Seth’s partially right. Maybe this Adam fellow still has a thing for you, Anastasia. He’s certainly paved the way for our arrival.”
    “I’m really tempted to ram your head through a screen,” Seth groused.
    Aramus chuckled. “I am so glad I volunteered for this mission. I’ve been waiting a long time to find something to rattle your cage.”
    “If we had time, I’d rattle you,” Seth promised.
    “Promises, promises. Guess you’ll have to make it back alive if you want to wipe the gym floor with me.”
    “You aren’t getting rid of me that easily, best friend.”
    A grumble of discontent rumbled from Aramus. “How many times have I told you not to call me that?”
    “Sorry. I forgot we’re secret BFFs.”
    Someone snickered.
    “I’d gladly give that role to someone else. Say like your wife’s ex, whom you’re about to meet within the hour.”
    “I can’t wait,” Seth growled, the smack of a fist hitting his palm.
    Neither could Avion, not because he would enjoy the fireworks between the males but more because something told Avion that the mystery voice in his head was somewhere on Earth—an illogical assumption, given a lack of evidence. Nevertheless, Avion couldn’t deny he suffered from some sort of gut instinct syndrome. Or indigestion.
    Damned humanity. How he longed to be a true cyborg again.

Chapter Five
    Going straight from work to the spaceport, Adam spared only a few minutes to change out his uniform—just as any normal human would do—before speeding to his destination.
    Some folk were under the mistaken impression that abiding by the posted legal limits and performing proper stops and lane changes ensured a person flew under the radar. Untrue.
    Those who adhered most stringently to the laws brought the most attention of all. Normal folk always skirted the edges of the rules. It was human nature.
    Parking crookedly, his rear tire over the marked line, and shoving his card in to the short-term parking meter to buy himself an hour of overpriced space, Adam arrived—late.
    Or, as he liked to call it, perfectly in keeping with his public identity.
    As it turned out, his timing was impeccable. He spotted his trio of arriving friends and the space customs duty guard—one of his human recruits—giving them a cursory check over, the machine to detect for cyborg components temporarily bypassed to give them a green light of approval.
    Adam leaned against a pillar by the luggage carousel and waited for them, a nonchalant pose that belied his true actions. He scanned everything around him, from the couple toting the crying baby to the elderly couple who walked so slowly he almost offered to grab them and jog them to their departure gate.
    As his guests approached, he straightened and offered a smile to his ex-girlfriend, Anastasia, who looked as yummy as ever even with her hair dyed blonde and cut short. She returned a smile of equal brilliance, which had the man by her side frowning. Hello, the husband.
    Then, because he must suffer from a terminal self-destruct wish, Adam drew her into a hug.
    “Adam,” she laughed as he squeezed her, tight enough to crack human ribs.
    Releasing her, with perhaps a hint of a smug smirk, Adam didn’t even have time to blink before he hit the ground. For a moment, he saw gears whirring before he blinked and his eyesight returned to normal. Nice shot, if a cheap one.
    “Seth!” Anastasia chastised with just one word.
    The word did nothing for his jaw,