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Fight for Her (Ice Age Dragon Brotherhood Book 4)

Page 4

by Milana Jacks


  Dad’s voice boomed through the venue, and Arthur leaned an elbow on the bar and watched my father on the podium.

  “Humans are only the beginning of our evolution,” Dad said. “The cyborg is the evolved human.”

  Everyone clapped. Rina rolled her eyes and handed Arthur the tequila shooter. She turned away from me, chugged the drink, and leaned both elbows on the bar. “Except for the birth rate,” she hollered.

  Holy shit. My eyes widened. Arthur gave her the evil eye and threw back his drink. “Keep them coming,” he told the waiter. “No more for my companion.”

  I was stuck on Arthur calling Rina his companion while the hall quieted. Everyone stared at her. Besides the wait staff, Rina was the only human at the party. “Cyborgs,” she addressed the stares, “don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m not an outlaw, I’m just thinking out loud, and I know you are too. If I take an implant, I risk not having kids. How are you gonna fix the reproduction problem? Let’s face it, that’s what every woman in the room wants to know.” She looked around. “Raise your hands, girls. Don’t be shy. Let this lovely lawmaker take up our cause.”

  All the women in the room stared at her. I saw several red-faced women lowering their gazes to the table. Nobody wanted to talk about sterility, partial sterility, or say they feared they would never have a child. But Rina made a point I hadn’t even considered. It felt important. I was a woman now, and this could be my fight.

  I stepped up next to her and raised my hand. Ms. Keane followed, even though she was well past the reproductive age, and soon, the hall filled with women’s raised mechatronic hands.

  My dad surveyed the room, and I hoped I hadn’t offended him, hoped he’d find a way to play this in his favor. He’d been in politics for a long time and had taught me a thing or two about causes and that every misstep was an advantage in disguise. Dad nodded. He had this. He leaned in and said, “Cloning.”

  Silence.

  “That’s right. Testing on live subjects is complete. In fact, let me show you.” He spoke into his mechatronic hand, probably reaching out to one of his aides. A few minutes later, a child dressed in a white jumpsuit walked onto the stage.

  “What is your name?” Dad asked her.

  “Beatrice.”

  “You see,” my dad said, “the original Beatrice comes from New Orleans. Don’t worry, she’s alive and well. This Beatrice is the same, but without memories. Should original Beatrice become a level-four cyborg, her clone will be able to conceive with the semen of a man of Beatrice’s choosing.”

  Silence as people processed this brilliant and frightening idea. My dad had never been one to fear the impossible. People recovered and started shouting questions at him. Dad lifted his hands and quieted them as the little cloned girl left the stage. “I will take questions at the scheduled conference. My staff is sending out invitations as I speak. Happy birthday, Brian.” Dad stormed off the stage, seeming upset.

  Arthur turned away and leaned his elbows on the bar. Rina mimicked his pose. Under his breath he said, “You distracted him from his speech. Why?”

  “This issue is important.”

  “To you.”

  Rina bit her lip. “Gah, you’re right. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Damn straight. He came here to speak his purpose. This wasn’t it. And now I gotta go feel him out. Again. Damn it.”

  Brian stood and lifted his glass. He’d prepared a speech too, and I tuned him out during it. Poor Brian. Dad had hijacked his party. As Brian spoke, I drank my martini. The music kicked in, and I moved through the couples coming onto the dance floor. Someone snatched my arm and spun me around. I connected with a hard chest. Green eyes bore down on me, and Arthur’s hands gripped my hips. I felt as if he held me so I wouldn’t run. Aware that Rina was watching us, I pushed against his chest. Arthur was a human, hot-blooded, and all male. It made sense he’d enjoy the company of another human, one with curves and brains. I hated Rina. I admired her courage. I hated that she was perfect.

  Tucking my implant hand behind my back, I placed my human hand on Arthur’s shoulder and swayed my hips, resolved not to show him how much everything about tonight bothered me. His fingers spread out on my back. His touch burned my skin. I felt his erections between my legs, and I wondered if Rina had gotten him hard on their way over. “How’s your date?” he asked.

  Okay, then. Bring. It. On. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re coming?”

  “I didn’t know I was coming.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “My… Rina.”

  My heart stopped, then kicked back up. There was this hollow feeling in my chest. I didn’t miss the my part. My brain caught it, and latched on to it like a leech. I blinked because my vision blurred. “I didn’t know you were dating anyone,” I whispered. Arthur never dated. There was a sting in my eyes, and fuck, I should’ve gotten drunk. Sober, I couldn’t seem to control my body or thoughts. At least if I drank, come tomorrow, I could have blamed my feelings on alcohol. I pushed Arthur away. “I hate you.” Well, there I go.

  I spun on my heel, knowing full well Arthur couldn’t afford another scene in the middle of the cyborg party. Rina drew too much attention to him already. On the way out, I found a door and entered the adjacent room. I plastered my body against the cold wall and leaned on it, taking deep breaths, pushing my mind to think of a better place instead of the one where it went. All these images of Arthur walking away, having a family somewhere with someone else, having Thanksgivings with his kids, assaulted me. I would forever remain the little sister he never had. “Oh God, make it stop, make it stop.”

  My heart pumped with fury, and my implant beeped, flagging my heart condition and compensating for my sudden panic.

  A door opened, and I didn’t even move. I was stuck in a state of shock, and my heart wasn’t working right. I’d always had anxiety issues, but this topped the list. Arthur wrapped his arms around me. “Are you having a panic attack?”

  He knew everything about me. I hated him for it. “Mm-hm.”

  “Breathe through it.”

  Oh, fuck him. “You should worry about your human date.” I pushed him away, gasping for breath, my panic now better because I was gonna pick a fight with him.

  He stood back. “I—”

  “Rina drew quite a bit of attention. Maybe you should’ve told her who you really are. This way, she’ll understand that my dad will go back to the office this very night and look her up.”

  “Her record is clean.”

  “Of course it is.” I yanked open the door and headed out.

  Arthur followed me. “Where are you going?”

  “Home,” I snapped.

  He lifted a hand and flagged a taxi. “Great idea.”

  What a dick. The cab parked, and the robot driver opened the back door. I climbed inside and wished the door didn’t automatically close, because I’d love to slam it right now.

  A smile split Arthur’s face, and he waved me off.

  God, I hated him.

  6

  Arthur

  Last night’s mission accomplished, this morning, I stretched and got out of bed with a smile on my face. Rose had left the party. This meant she hadn’t gone home with Brian-boy. Seven made my shit list at first, but she worked the room as a pro spy afterward and had apologized profusely for her uncalled-for outburst. She discovered the Cy had approved the construction of a new habitat for the clones they planned to create. The idea of cloning terrified me and wiped the smile off my face.

  In the bathroom, I took a good hard look in the mirror. Cloning was unnatural. Each of us was unique. There were no two people alike, no two animals made the same way. This uniqueness defined humanity, and the cyborgs intended to mess with humanity in a big way. The Cy would help them. What did the Cy gain from it? I still didn’t know the answer.

  I showered and prepared for brunch with a bunch of old ladies. While Knight would barf over the idea, he’d never chatted with elderly women. The
y knew what was really happening in the habitat, and their speculations had proven true time and time again.

  Rose

  After another unsuccessful meditation aka an attempt at telekinesis, I took the stairs and caught up with Brian, who seemed to be heading toward the training gym even though our martial arts class wasn’t until one in the afternoon. “Hey, Brian,” I said.

  “Hey. What happened to you yesterday?” He didn’t stop, so I walked with him.

  “I got violently ill and had to go home.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I kind of thought I scared you with the apartment thing.”

  “Well, that too.”

  Brian stopped and gave me all his attention. “You mean that?”

  He was nice. I ought to keep him, fight my heart to feel something for him. “Yeah.”

  “I won’t bring it up again.”

  “Thanks.” So good, this boy.

  He beamed. “Wanna see what the big guys are up to?”

  “What big guys?”

  “Your dad’s picking out the Elite team.”

  Elite was a new special cyborg unit that would receive training on how to best deal with dragons. Dad had said he’d pick out the most capable soldiers, regardless of their cyborg level or previous training. They would also be allowed a direct link to level fives and to command them, which in itself was a special privilege allocated only to military personal with high rankings.

  “What’s my dad up to with the Elite?” I asked, trying to infuse a casual tone to our conversation. I wondered why he’d decided to pick out the team right now when just last night, he’d basically announced that cloning was the main platform in his campaign. I presumed the Elites would serve this purpose somehow.

  “I heard we’re gonna clear out the former National Guard base. Selfridge. Near the shore.”

  Ah. Dad had moved onto habitat expansion. Brian and I made it inside the gymnasium, where hundreds of soldiers stood at attention. I recognized some of the Pittsburg military staff as my dad spoke about the honor of being on the Elite team. Brian climbed the uppermost spectator seats and sat down. I took the front row. Dad paused his speech and nodded at me by way of greeting. I nodded back, and he continued to call out names. I watched the men line up and took note of something. There wasn’t a single woman on the roster.

  Dad had always had issues with me being a bit of a tomboy. He’d given me a pass into the military when he realized I wouldn’t give up on physical training. He knew that if he didn’t provide me an outlet, I’d find one on the ground level. There were always people willing to teach self-defense for money. I had money. So after a long fight, Dad had signed me into the military.

  If I were a boy, this wouldn't be an issue. It hurt, but I got it. Men were physically stronger, their implants heavier therefore sturdier than mine, and men could carry more weapons inside their implants, whereas I carried a small gun. Some of those guys on the squad came with huge mechatronic legs packed with multiple weapons inside their thighs, and some even packed cold weapons—knives, daggers, swords, and such—on their bellies. One day when I got to be a level four, I’d pack more weapons, but I’d never carry as much as them.

  Dad finished calling out the names.

  I strode to the line and stood there.

  Dad walked to me, his eyes hard. “Rose?”

  “Daddy, I want in.”

  The men chuckled.

  Fuck them.

  “Why should I pick you?” Dad asked.

  I lifted my hand. “Because I’m one of the best. You know I am, Dad.” Before my surgery, I used to be telekinetic. I couldn’t move objects anymore, but I was training, and I would do it again. Dad knew about telekinesis, which was why every morning I attended a meditation class to try to tap back into my ability.

  “And Rose Strain,” my dad said, then updated the hologram projecting from his arm. “That’s it.”

  The gymnasium erupted in hoots. Shocked, I stood there. My dad actually added me to the Elite team. Holy shit. I rushed to him and threw my arms around his neck. My dad barely survived the Pittsburg disaster. He’d never admit the difficulties he’d faced, and one couldn’t tell by looking at him. The Cy had tightened up the screws on his face, replaced his broken implants, and basically upgraded his entire system, something they hadn’t done for anyone else from that habitat. The screws on the side of his face tightened his skin and made him look in his twenties when in reality, he was closing in on sixty in a few months.

  Strong arms enveloped me. “Why would you put me on the spot like that?” he asked, humor in his voice.

  “I’m climbing the ranks, Dad.”

  He put me at arm’s length. “If you are to be a soldier, then you will be the Elite.”

  “That’s right.”

  He pecked my forehead. “Dinner tonight with your old man?”

  “You cooking?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m coming.”

  He laughed and motioned for a man, then barked instructions at him. Ah, well, I should’ve seen it coming. Dad would provide me with a babysitter. Done with instructions, Dad headed out and left me with the cyborgs, each twice as wide as I was. The one he’d called over introduced himself as Jordan, and we shook hands.

  “Move it, soldier,” he ordered.

  I believed he believed he was my commander or something.

  “Today’s mission is simple,” Jordan said, walking with long strides. Lucky for me, I had long legs to match the man march. “You will ride with me and observe. Ready?”

  “That’s my briefing on the mission?”

  Jordan smiled, his white teeth a stark contrast with his dark skin. “I’ll brief you on the way. Don’t get me in trouble. Like I said. Simple mission. You think you can handle that?”

  No, at the first sign of trouble, I will break into tears and beg you to save me. “I can handle it.”

  I followed Jordan outside, and we loaded up into a black pod. The inside was sterile, smelled like nothing in particular, and looked like a big box until Jordan reached for the transmitter to connect his implants with the pod. “Allow me,” I said, and thought about starting up the pod. My brain sent the thought from the chip to the pod, and I connected with the pod’s intelligence. The box lit up, and the pod came to life.

  Jordan sat there, confusion registering on his face.

  “I’m advanced like that. I think it, and it’s done.” I winked at him.

  “Okay. Can I connect my tech now?”

  “You can do that.” I smiled sweetly.

  Jordan reached for the transmitter and placed his arm on the sensors. They read his data and connected so he could communicate with pods around us. He put everyone on the speaker, and I listened. We were heading outside the habitat.

  My heart rate picked up.

  “Scared?” he asked.

  I gave him a blank stare. “Yes, I fear I might punch you and end up in detention.”

  With a smirk, Jordan pointed to his hand. “I’m equipped with a medical reader. It’s now hooked onto your implant. I registered your accelerated heart rate.”

  “What? Why?” That sounded intrusive.

  “Your dad’s orders. Didn’t you hear what he said?”

  “I heard you’re my babysitter, but he didn’t mention the medical reader.”

  “I’m sure that was why he put us together. So I’m reading you.” Jordan lifted the pod. He was navigating with a mere flick of his fingers and definitely knew what he was doing. I hadn’t trained in these pods yet. Hadn’t even completed my driver ed yet.

  Today, the plasma’s color was pink. I’d learned the girly coloring had nothing to do with girly stuff. Pink was the color of plasma when the military went on alert from aerial impact, meaning they were actively protecting against a dragon attack. Little did they know the dragon walked among them.

  Well, not really. He was probably just waking up next to his human date. Gah. I wanted my brain to stop thinking. I look
ed out the window.

  “Still nervous, huh?” Jordan said.

  Fuck. Having someone aware of how I felt was annoying. “I’d like you to quit scanning me.”

  “Negative. I follow orders.”

  “I haven’t consented to have a monitor. Shut it off.”

  “Listen, brat, take it up with your daddy. I’ve worked hard to be where I am today, and I ain’t gonna let some privileged brat ruin my career. Got me?”

  I pinched my lips. Jordan had likely scrubbed the floors for a decade before he could even join the military plus labored another five years before he had joined the Elite, whereas I had been given a place on a silver platter. I didn’t feel bad about it. My dad was smart and used connections, worked hard, and climbed the ranks. Now he was helping me climb so that I could forge my own future.

  We flew over the Detroit River bridge and exited the plasma barrier, heading north along Lake St. Clair toward Selfridge Air National Guard Base. The flight took only about ten minutes before Jordan initiated a descent.

  We hovered about a hundred yards above a small building. The buildings here had withstood the test of the Ice Age and didn’t look like downtown Detroit.

  Jordan pointed below. “That used to be the post office.” He pointed to the left. “I got to wash a plane with my dad over there once.”

  “It’s a really nice and well-preserved area,” I said. “You from around here?”

  “Sort of.”

  I glanced at him, but he said nothing else. Other pods lined up and formed a perimeter. Five pods separated and flew over the demolition equipment placed beyond the perimeter, then cyborgs hopped from the pods and started up the machines. The pre-Ice-Age-era machines roared to life.

  “Dad is really expanding. I would’ve thought he’d build something closer, though. You know, like an extension of our habitat.”

  “Gotta separate the clones. They’ll be living here in the new habitat we’re gonna build once we demolish the outlaw-infested homes here. Not too close, but close enough.”

 

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