by Milana Jacks
My stomach growled, and I looked out the window at the gray skies, thinking about what to eat. It was gonna snow again. Better get flying soon. But fuck if I felt like flying for miles only to fetch some pork chops from the Germans. I plopped my ass on the couch and stared out the window. I should be out there looking for my spirit, saving the Earth and yada yada, but seeing as Rose was a level-one cyborg who couldn’t possibly be mine, I had initiated plan B—infiltrate the cyborg circles and kill them off. I didn’t need any special powers for that. I’d killed for a Mafia lord before and would kill again, this time, at least, for a good cause.
A bird flew past, a rare sight inside the habitat. I leaped and opened the window, then searched for the bird in the sky. There. A big bird. An eagle? It made a circuit, its wings spread wide, its eyes down and searching, likely for food. I glanced back at the pristine white kitchen counter. Nothing there for the bird.
Animals belonged to Earth, and I should be able to make good friends with them. I whistled. The eagle snapped its head my way and plummeted down. Uh-oh. A young eagle, flying too fast and…and at me. I moved away as it flew straight into my apartment and landed with a shriek on the kitchen counter, scraping it with his talons to prevent a fall. It wobbled on the edge, almost fell, but regained its balance at the last minute.
“Impressive,” I said and closed the window. It would keep me company, and I’d release it later. Hm… There was something about this bird. I tilted my head, my dragon senses prickling. White light burst around the bird, and in its place sat a woman. She crossed her legs and smiled. She wore a bleached-blonde pixie cut but looked familiar. “Seven?”
“Ta-da.” She spread her arms.
I commanded the tint on the widow. The room darkened, then lit from the inside. Before I toppled over on my feet, I sat on my couch while my dragon stirred in my chest. The bird was no dove, but mine nonetheless. No fucking way. Speechless, I stared.
Oh, but Seven had plenty to say. “I’m your new bird. What do you think?”
“How?” I whined. Tequila. Tequila. Tequila. Clare, Seven’s sister, had been my gentle, pretty, cute, adorable bird creature. When she had died, her twin, Clementine, took the dove. Then Mother Nature ripped the bird creature out of Clementine, and my dragon was left without a dove. Now it appeared Mother Nature had gifted Seven with a Creature of Earth. It was to be mine. Lord help us all. Seven and I didn’t exactly get along. We put up with each other.
Seven looked up at the ceiling as if thinking. “Weeks ago, I woke up to an eagle-shaped ghost hovering over me. When it landed on my chest, it sank inside.”
My dragon recognized the bird. It didn’t matter if it manifested as a dove or an eagle, Seven carried the source of energy and connection my dragon felt with his bird. This was my new bird messenger. If I repeated it several more times, it would sink in. “But why are you an eagle?”
Seven tucked her hair behind her ears. “Because I’m no dove.”
“Why not?” I liked doves. They were cute submissive creatures designed to follow their dragon masters. And they cooed. Eagles didn’t coo. I couldn’t fucking believe Mother Nature had given me an eagle. Was I cursed? First, Rose became a cyborg, then Seven showed up as my bird.
“Mother Nature said that eagle females are dominants in the relationship.” Seven lifted a manicured eyebrow. “Therefore, it’s natural for me to get an eagle.”
This was really happening. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
“Sarcasm will get you a spanking, dragon boy.”
I foresaw a long life of horrors with Seven.
Seven hopped off the counter and looked around. “Got any clothes?”
I pointed to my bedroom. “Clare’s.” I carried my dragon’s pain after he’d lost Clare. Ever since Rose had woken up a cyborg that morning, he’d shut me off. He might hold grudges against the cyborgs, but I sure as fuck didn’t care. Rose occupied my thoughts more now than ever before.
Seven came back out wearing my black bathrobe. She sat next to me and sniffed the collar. “You smell good, loverboy.” She locked eyes with me, and hers narrowed. “You don’t look excited.”
“I’m super excited.”
“You holding excitement inside your pants? Because your face looks like someone slapped you with pig shit.”
I chuckled. No comment. Just thinking about discussing my dicks with the evil domme that was Seven made my balls shrink. Seven was a sadist and totally unapologetic about it. “You said you became my bird a few weeks ago.”
She wiggled her nose. “I’m not fond of the my bird thing. Let’s address me as Seven.”
“I am your dragon master.”
“I know.”
I swatted at the air. Pointless argument, and one she’d lose. The bird served the dragon. “Report to me.”
“I got a job down at the military training center.”
“What?” I sat up. “You’re my bird.”
“Duh. I’m supposed to spy on cyborgs, aren’t I?”
“From afar.”
“Well, I got a job. It pays for my things.”
“I’ll provide for you, Seven. You cannot risk exposure.”
She gave me a blank stare. “I don’t need men to provide for me. That’s one. Two, you’re the elemental who will save us all, and yet you hang out with the most dangerous of cyborgs. So the bird doesn’t fall too far from the dragon. Hm?”
I scrubbed my face. “Why didn’t you come to me first?”
“Couldn’t find you.”
She would have found my dragon if he were more active, but he slumbered and wallowed in self-pity, so the bird creature couldn’t get a feel for him. “That’s my fault. I’ve been off radar.”
She nodded. “I understand. Lots happened in the past few months.”
“How’re Knight and Clementine?” I’d lied to Rose when I told her Knight sent me to see her. I hadn’t heard from Knight since I sent a wolf into his territory to tell him his sister survived the surgery.
“They’re doing great.” Seven smiled and crossed two fingers. “Let’s hope I can be an aunt soon.” She pointed at the kitchen. “Got anything to drink?”
I tried to get up, but she put a hand over my shoulder and pushed me back down. “Oh, don’t get up, my lord. I’ll get it.” She winked at me and sashayed to the kitchen. Seven must have some sort of sixth sense, because she found the alcohol immediately. She read the labels. “Is there no beer?”
“Tequila.”
“Fuck.” She got a bottle and two shooters. “Are we gonna chase it?”
“No.”
“Salt, lemon, lime, a motherfucking Tyel?”
Tyel was a headache med. “No.”
“It’s six in the afternoon.” She poured the brown liquid into the shooters.
“Right on time.” I got up and sat behind the bar. We clicked glasses.
“Cheers!” she said.
The cheap tequila burned down my throat. Absolutely nasty, only to be drunk on days like today. Perfect. Seven didn’t flinch and poured another, then another.
On the fourth one, I raised my hand. “Slow down, girl.”
“Go on and drink, dragon boy. I got news for you. You’ll need it.”
I chugged, and slammed the shooter on the bar. “What?”
Seven reached over and dabbed my mouth with her sleeve. Oh great, another mother hen like Knight for me. “Rose, Knight’s sister, joined the military.” She looked at me expectantly.
“I know.”
Seven nodded. “I work as a janitor at the training center and kind of got to know her a little. She’s a go-getter, and she’s gonna climb the cyborg circles fast. Does she know who you are?”
“Yes.”
Seven poured another drink. “We are fucked.”
“She won’t turn on Knight or me.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I don’t want to talk about Rose,” I snapped.
Seven tilted her head, a manicured fingernail tapping
the glass. “From the boys’ locker room, I heard the colonel’s gonna reveal his main campaign goal tomorrow. The boys seemed excited, as if the military’ll play a big role with what he has planned. That’s not a good thing.”
I tapped my fingernail on the glass too. “I’m invited to the party.”
Seven clapped. “All I need is a dress.”
“Huh?”
“A dress. I need a dress, something long and classy that pushes up my titties.” She grabbed her titties and lifted. “Like this.”
“Why do you need a dress?”
“I’m gonna be your date.”
“I got a date.”
“Ha! Please, I can tell a single guy from a mile away. And you are as single and desperate as they come. Which is kind of sad, by the way, because you’re fine, my lord dragon. Not my type, but very fine. A dude with a date would be getting fitted for a tux right now, not getting drunk with another woman who is not even remotely interested in him.”
Why does Mother Nature hate me?
Seven extended her hand, palm up. “I have an account under the name Rina Domina.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“Domina?”
“If the shoe fits. Unless you want me down at the ground level searching a thrift shop for dresses, my account needs a nice deposit.”
“I thought you didn’t take money from men?” I grinned. Got her.
“I’ll make an exception for you, my lord.”
I pointed to the bedroom. “There’s roges in the safe. Get some.”
She rounded the bar and leaned in. I leaned back just as she plopped a kiss on my cheek. “You’re the best boss. What’s the password?”
“R1o0s2e.”
5
Rose
Brian’s hair stuck to his head so hard, I wondered if he’d poured concrete on it. His eyes sparkled, and I took that as a sign he’d had a few drinks already as he waited for me at the entrance. As I exited the cab, he offered me an elbow. I took it and squinted at the flashes of the flying cameras taking pictures of my dad with his date. During the Pittsburg habitat’s destruction, my mother had fled, thinking my dad had died. In a matter of one week, she’d found another cyborg and married him. Dad had emerged shortly after and, instead of claiming her back, acknowledged her marriage, even finalized their divorce, though polygamy wasn’t illegal.
She lived somewhere in Omaha, and I’d seen her only once since my surgery. She asked me to come home with her, but I stuck with the Detroit habitat because of the military school. Or so I told myself that my decision to stay in Detroit had nothing to do with the man I would like to forget.
Brian leaned in and pecked my cheek. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.”
Cameras flashed, and we smiled for the megatrons projecting the dinner party for the entire habitat to see, then walked past the walled-off area on the roof. The plasma barrier that protected us from the severe Ice Age temperatures sparkled light blue tonight, no doubt for the aesthetics. I looked around the sparkly, clean, large space, where many catering robots mingled. Mr. Cone’s catering service. Yup, only the best at this party.
Many powerful cyborgs were in attendance. Even the British made it in tonight. I could tell them apart by the fashion, namely the cheerful hats the women wore. Brian led me around, sometimes introducing me, most times finding introductions unnecessary. Most people recognized me from pictures taken with my dad when I’d first come out of surgery. News of my implant success reached every habitat.
“How are you feeling, dear?” Ms. Keane asked and plopped an olive-flavored cube from her martini into her mouth. A level-three cyborg in her sixties, Ms. Keane proudly showed her wrinkled face—nowadays rarely found on women—and gray hair pulled up in an elegant bun. She had intelligent dark and slanted eyes. As a current major’s wife close to my dad, she had visited me at the hospital, brought me fresh roses, thinking I’d fancy that because of my name. I had no idea where she’d found blooming flowers, but I appreciated the gesture. I wanted a martini too. “Feeling great. Thank you. You?”
Brian nudged me. “I’ll grab us a drink. You gonna be okay?” He gave me puppy-dog eyes.
No, I’m gonna get lost in a sea of people, and you will never find me again, and when you do find me, I’ll be a slobbering mess because I was so sad you left me for five minutes.
Before I uttered a word, Ms. Keane grabbed my elbow and said, “I’ll keep her company, dear.”
Brian left, and Ms. Keane sighed, moving us through the crowd. “Such a sweet boy. Do you like him?”
“Most times.”
She chuckled and looked up. “Aren’t you tall for a girl?”
“About six feet with my heels.”
“Oh my.” Ms. Keane was about five feet with heels.
Mingling during cyborg social events didn’t bother me as much as it bothered some of my high school friends in Pittsburg, who’d rather be having video sex at home while their parents were away. I enjoyed it. Ms. Keane and I made a round, making sure we greeted everyone, then sat at our table, where Brian offered me my drink. It was a peach-flavored punch. I sipped, the sweet hit my taste buds, and I nearly spit across the table. Eww.
After the dinner was served, Brian practically fed me as if we were the only people in the room. Both uncomfortable and happy to be the center of my date’s attention, I ate and drank the sweet drink. I liked his attention and tried to return it as much as possible. Besides, my dad approved of my choice of a date for the party, and I knew this because that was the first thing that came out of his mouth when he got up to the podium for his speech.
“Brian, my boy,” Dad said when the crowd quieted. “You have a lovely date.”
People laughed and raised their glasses. Bunches of happy birthday, Brian went around. I pecked Brian’s cheek. “Happy birthday.” He threw an arm over my shoulder and leaned in, “I’ve booked an apartment for tonight.”
I froze.
Thankfully, Brian didn’t press me for a comment. Dad took over everyone’s attention, including Brian’s, as he squeezed my shoulder. I glanced at his profile and saw his arm draped over the back of my chair. I swallowed hard, thinking about what he expected from me as a birthday gift. I would sleep with a man tonight. And that was fine by me, wasn’t it? I remembered saying this very thing to Arthur, but I hadn’t intended to actually do it with Brian. Not really. I would need a lot of liquor to make Brian more attractive or to even start entertaining the possibility of losing my virginity tonight. I eyed the peach punch. No way could I drink this all night. Where was the freakin’ bar? I stiffened my spine and searched the room.
Dad went on, speaking about life in general, and politics, of course, seeing as he would love to replace Ms. Keane’s husband after his retirement and crush any competition. “My daughter’s implant was successful.”
I heard my name and tuned in, nodding.
“Stand up, Rose, so everyone can see you.”
I smiled and stood, waving my mechatronic hand.
“Tell everyone how old you are.”
“I’m eighteen.”
A collective gasp arose from the British table. Implants on humans under twenty simply weren’t performed. It had something to do with bones and their growth.
Dad continued. “Thank you, Rose.”
I sat back down and chugged my punch. It made my stomach roll. I’d rather have a martini. Dry. With olive-flavored cubes if possible. A robot wheeled past our table, and I followed his path, eying the bar in the corner. I politely excused myself, knowing full well that Dad was gonna reprimand me for walking around during his speech.
At the small bar, I waited for the human staff working the venue.
“Rose’s implant is the newest in Cy technology, never before seen or tested, extremely flexible, sensitive to touch, and it adjusts as the child grows. In fact, she was seventeen when she underwent the surgery. If I am elected, every family will have the option to approach me with the wish of implanting their child
over sixteen. The procedure, if approved, will be free of charge. Eventually, the age requirement for implants will be lowered further.”
Another collective gasp. This was big news. The rich would be richer much more quickly as a cyborg family’s status was elevated each time they took on implants. Now, everyone would want to ally with Dad and me, seeing as he would personally recommend the family for an implant.
Dad moved on to talk about the expansion of the habitat. I’d heard this speech a thousand times and tuned it out. I wanted a fucking martini. The robots ignored me, and the human staff were too few to go about. So I got behind the bar. Below, the bottles lined the rack. I recognized none as vodka. I bent and lifted the curtain to see what was under it. Glasses. Excellent. I reached for one.
“Tequila. Straight up,” a man said.
A woman’s voice followed. “Make that two.”
Okay. I grabbed my martini glass and a pair of shooters and stood. “Craig?” I’d almost called him Arthur. Shit. He threw me off my axis. He looked sharp in a tux, with diamonds studs in his ears. His hair, much like Brian’s, was slicked back, but on Arthur, everything looked fantastic. He licked his lips and stared at my breasts.
In my mechatronic hand, the martini glass cracked and shattered. “Shit.” I skipped away from the broken glass. “Damn it.” I rummaged behind the bar for a vacuum bot just as one server came around.
“I got this,” he said. “Sorry for the wait. Did you get a drink?”
I stepped back to give him space. I stared at Arthur and his very human date I recognized by her bleached pixie-cut hair even with her weird butterfly mask. Rina.
She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. “Hey, Rose.”
“Hey.”
“You’re looking like a million bucks, girl,” she said.
