by Lucas, Naomi
“Yeah. The female locusts are about to enter their heat. They’ve been gathering around Mt. Etta for the past two weeks. People have been arriving from all over to see the event.”
Stupid fucks. “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yeah, but they don’t care. Most can view it from their ships, but this”—the man indicated the clear sky—“isn’t going to stay this way for much longer. The swarms will continue to grow until the sky’s blotted out. If anyone’s out then, it’ll be a bloodbath. Locusts will eat anything, even each other, during this time of year.”
Hysterian grabbed the male locusts’ crate, braced his legs, and lifted it in his arms.
“Try and leave tonight if you can, like me. Ships are leaving hourly,” the man said.
Hysterian glimpsed Mt. Etta in the distance as he hauled the crate to the truck. A comm pinged his audio, alerting him he had received a direct message to his systems. He stopped, bringing the message up. He never received direct comms unless it was from another Cyborg or his ship’s AI.
It was from Raphael.
The wires in his chest vibrated, and his fingers dug into the hard edges of the crate. Hatred for his ex-boss arose swiftly, but it was soon replaced with dread and curiosity.
The crate shook in his arms.
He stared at the comm behind his eyes, debating whether or not to open it and download the encrypted message. What would Raphael have for him? Had he found information about Alexa? Her past? Had she been hurt? Was she being bribed?
His anger returned the longer he stared at the comm. His glands opened up and poison bubbled under his suit.
Maybe he didn’t find anything out at all. Hysterian hoped there was nothing on Alexa, that she was just…concerned about him being a Cyborg and she was a half-breed. She didn’t know about the codes that ran deep in Cyborgs, urging them to destroy Trentians.
They were nothing compared to what he’d been dealing with his entire life and his skin.
“Are you okay?” the man accepting the locusts asked.
A growling came from inside the crate right before it rocked in Hysterian’s arms. His hand slipped and the crate fell, crashing to the ground. Wood, metal, and straps broke and snapped. Two large wings burst from the sides as the male locust’s growls crescendoed into a roar.
The security guards backed off, and one yelled, grabbing his gun from his belt. The intake man shouted, stumbling back, falling before scrambling to the door of his vehicle. The crates containing the females started to shake.
Screams filled his ears. Hysterian opened the comm.
The male locust shook off the debris from the crate, baring his teeth. Large wings flapped, readying for flight. It didn’t see Hysterian glaring at the security guard who was backing away. Four large arms stretched out, claws elongating, growing sharp.
Hysterian took out his gun and shot it point-blank in the head.
The male locust crashed to the ground.
“That’s for scaring her,” he said, pivoting toward his ship.
He knew everything.
Alexa’s father. Her history. Everything. He scanned the comm from Raphael a hundred more times by the time he saw his ship in the distance, memorizing every sentence, every bit of punctuation. The screams followed him for a time but quieted the farther he got away. His audio cleared it all out as a chilling dread filled him.
I killed her father.
Xavier Lyle Dear.
He’d known the name on Raphael’s comm before he even had a moment to question it. He remembered everyone he killed. The last name Dear wasn’t a common one, but how was he supposed to make that connection? He had met countless people since his creation. Many shared names, first and last.
Hysterian cursed as power surged through his systems. He picked up speed, sprinting now, needing to see Alexa. He never thought in a thousand calibrations that he was the reason for her pain. That time in the lounge that night… She fought me. She thought I was going to kill her.
She came here to get revenge.
The air left him, and his throat constricted.
She’d come to kill him.
It made sense.
Another streak of electricity coursed through him. He bore down on his feet and sprang into the air, jumping the rest of the way to his ship. The tarmac cracked when he landed, and dust plummed in the air. He connected with his ship before he made it to the hatch. Sirens went off in his head as well as his ship.
Xavier Lyle Dear had been a known half-breed, a junk worker brought up in the Elyrian slums where most half-breeds lived. Xavier had fought Raphael when Hysterian’s ex-boss sought to buy the land where he and many other half-breeds and the poor lived. Thousands of humans, aliens, and half-breeds would’ve been displaced. Xavier protested, riled up others to protest, and sought to stop Raphael from taking the land and developing it.
No one told Raphael what to do and lived.
It happened nearly fifteen years ago now. It was during that time Hysterian had encountered Raphael for the first time and Raphael had offered to help him. Hysterian’s last venture into finding a solution to his skin problem had failed miserably. The head scientist who’d had a hand in Hysterian’s creation died, and with his death, Hysterian had lost all hope that he would ever be fixed.
He’d gone numb.
He’d turned off his emotions and became nothing more than a walking, talking machine, with the added weirdness of his animal.
Going numb was the only way for him to accept the loss, to cope. Not only for a solution, but as a way to avoid grieving for the one person who was the closest Hysterian would ever have to a parent.
It had been a dark time. He’d gone to Dimes, practically living at the club for weeks before Raphael approached him. Before that, everyone left the ‘Cyborg’ alone for fear he’d turn on them.
He’d never hid from others back then. People would touch him and faint or get blitz from the highest high of their lives. People gathered around him, wanting to touch him and take the risk. They paid him for bottles of his secretion.
In his numbness, he found a cult of addicts.
Raphael noticed how much money Hysterian was making him, how people from all over the city flocked to Dimes to touch the Cyborg. He’d become an attraction, and while he was emotionless with loss, Hysterian enjoyed the distraction. He’d enjoyed letting men and women take his hand, hold it, and give him the warmth he’d always craved.
Some lasted for minutes before falling.
He hadn’t enjoyed them dying at his feet, though. It still left a sour taste in his mouth.
But the touching, the warmth, even the fucked-up companionship he’d received from his followers had given him a lifeline. And then Raphael had approached him and solidified the deal.
Raphael convinced Hysterian that he had the money and resources to help Hysterian with his problem, but if he was going to help, he wanted something in return.
Hysterian’s loyalty.
Back then, he would have done anything for Raphael. Hysterian wasn’t proud of it, especially now as he looked back, but he had enjoyed it for a time. There’d been no rules, no need for control.
For a being who’d been created to be controlled… It was like breathing for the first time.
But Raphael was a calculating and cruel man who only cared about his own pleasure. A psychopath and an unhinged, emotionless Cyborg made a great but devastatingly merciless team.
Whether Xavier knew who Raphael was when Xavier went up against the crime lord, Hysterian had no idea. All he knew was when he’d killed Xavier, Hysterian had broken into the man’s apartment and took his hand while he slept. Hysterian had been cruel for so much of his life—torturing information out of war criminals—but he couldn’t be that way to innocent people, even if they had crossed Raphael. He’d never questioned why Raphael had asked him to kill Xavier. Hysterian had been hired to kill people in the past. But during that time...he’d just been numb.
I killed her father.
Hysterian broke into his ship and ran to his quarters. He scented Alexa’s smell the second the hatch opened. He scented Horace’s as well. A glimpse at the security feeds showed him they’d left.
Horace too? He couldn’t fucking trust anyone. Every person in his crew had betrayed him.
Twenty fucking minutes ago, they’d left. His nostrils flared as he slammed his fist into the wall and turned back.
She lied to me.
She seduced me into bed, and for what? To distract me?
To give me hope only to steal it away?
Rage boiled, building, eclipsing reason. His codes urged him to blight out Alexa’s existence, knowing she’d only come here to kill him. She’s an alien.
She’s my enemy.
His hands clenched as he stormed back out of his ship. He needed to find Alexa. He wanted to punish her, make her feel what she forced him to feel.
To have everything you’ve ever wanted given to you only to be snatched away.
If this was her plan, she fucking succeeded. She didn’t need to kill him to destroy him. He practically handed her the keys to his ruin. He’d told her everything. She’d turned everyone against him and stole his bloody metal heart right from his chest. If she thought she was going to get away with it and live, she had another thing coming.
Hysterian strode off his ship, scanning the shipping tarmac. He knew she couldn’t have gotten far.
Twenty-two minutes ago, she was where I’m standing. He closed his eyes and seeded into the wireless connections and electrical currents all around him. He fell out with a curse, finding it devoid of security and cameras.
Hysterian jumped atop his ship, surveying the horizon, but dust clouds obscured much of the field. His eyes flicked upward. The swarms around Mt. Etta had grown larger in the past hour. Several ships took off or readied to take off around him. He heard the rumble of a ship landing in the distance. Something flew past his head, sending his hair flying—a female locust. His eyes flicked to the sky, finding hundreds more heading for the mountain.
He cursed, recalling what the delivery man had said. Below him, people scurried for cover and ships closed up. Some people cheered, some laughed, others jeered, striking his nerves. His facial recognition software didn’t recognize any of them.
Hysterian checked his gun, sliding it back into his belt, knowing he was going to have to search on foot. He didn’t have much time if what the man had said was true. If the locusts were going into a breeding season, time was short.
He needed to find Alexa before that happened.
He was going to have his revenge. No locust was going to take that from him.
The flapping of wings filled his audio as he surged forward, picking a random direction, sniffing the air. It only served to remind him how inadequate he was compared to others who had animals that were naturally good hunters and trackers. A frog couldn’t hunt or track.
All the more reason to get his hands on Alexa and make her pay.
He stalked through the ships on the tarmac, searching groups of people, demanding answers from them. Hysterian found no sign of her or Horace. More ships readied to take off, more still closed up for the day.
Worry set in. He hurried his steps.
Where the fuck is she?
He missed her by mere minutes. She couldn’t have gotten far.
A group of people rushed by him, ducking with their arms above their heads. He grabbed them and checked each one, sending them fleeing in terror soon after.
The sky darkened.
This time, when he heard shouting, he didn’t ignore it.
He came upon two men arguing. They were alone. Hysterian gritted his teeth, turning full-circle. Wind swept past his ears, and dust got in his eyes. His brow dripped.
“Alexa!” he roared.
No one answered.
Another ship took off. Hysterian watched it break through the locusts, killing hundreds, sending body parts flying everywhere. Still, Alexa was nowhere to be found.
Fear took hold.
When the ship vanished, he stared at the place it had been.
He couldn’t have lost her. It was impossible. She was in his arms hours ago. She was…
The dust swirled around him.
I’m coming for you.
Twenty-Six
Alexa wiped the sweat from her face as she washed her hands in a puddle. Her grimy complexion stared back at her as the water settled. Her roots were showing, revealing her naturally translucent, shimmering hair. She hadn’t dyed it in over two months.
She no longer cared if people knew she was a half-breed. There wasn’t a reason for her to care anymore.
On Elyria, half-breeds were all around her. This was the only real home they had, so this was the place they congregated. Regardless of the crime or the destitution, despite the animosity they received or the lack of prospects, Elyria was all they had. Even with the sweltering desert heat, Trentians and half-breeds made it work. She trapped some water and poured it over her head.
“Share the wealth,” someone muttered.
Alexa stood and moved away as a young man, a full-blooded Trentian, kneeled and did the same. Unlike the Trentians that lived on Xanteaus, this one’s hair was cropped short around his face.
To survive the heat, no doubt. He didn’t have the luxury to keep his long locks if he worked under the Elyrian suns.
Alexa made her way through the parking lot, leaving the adolescent behind, and toward the tenement housing beyond the lot. Litter and sand were everywhere. The rolling dunes of Elyria had been flattened a century ago to expand the ever-growing Oasis City, but the sand was still everywhere. It got in people’s houses, and when it was windy, it made the sky hazy. When there wasn’t wind, it laid in dirty piles in alleyways. Sandy trash heaps. You never knew what you might find in a sand pile.
It was a favorite game for unwatched children.
At least in the slums.
In the distance, the sky towers, the skyscrapers, and the buildings of the wealthy rose up like spikes. Those buildings reached for the stars, while the ones she aimed for currently… were forced to stay near the ground. The slums didn’t have infrastructure like the main locales of the metropolis, nor did it have the flashing lights, pounding music, and neon mess.
Like Dimes.
She could see Dimes and its large dome several blocks away. It glowed gold, catching the suns against its metal adornments. The dome was always gold during the day. It was only at night when it erupted into a tacky riot of colors, but the music from the club was a constant. The heavy bass bled into the streets and could be felt from blocks away.
She’d lived in the domes and Raphael’s shadow until she’d stripped herself from her past, changed her appearance like everyone did in Oasis City, and applied for school.
Alexa hadn’t been back home since, clawing her way out by her broken, dirty nails. They were dirty now, but no longer broken. Some things never changed.
She made her way past groups of people loitering and toward the poorly manufactured homes where she used to live. The smell of meat, cooking oil, and grease filled her nose as she passed by home after home on her way to her destination.
Alexa saw a vendor selling water as she went. She bought a bottle, sucking it down to keep from overheating.
Her chest tightened. It’s been too long. More than a decade.
She didn’t recognize any of the people. She was certain no one would recognize her. She also couldn’t believe how many more people there were. The slums had been crowded before, but now? It was bursting.
Alexa dodged two women walking in the opposite direction, nearly colliding with them.
Saddened, she sped up. The apartment of her childhood home appeared a short time later.
A young girl stood in the dirty window looking out. The same window Alexa used to look out and watch the people on the street below when she was the girl’s age. Alexa waved, and the girl turned away.
Alexa’s hear
t fell.
Why did I come here?
She knew why as she continued deeper into the slums.
She needed to say goodbye, to remember, because tonight…she would face Raphael for the first time.
She landed on Elyria a week ago. During that time, she had familiarized herself with the locals near her old home, asking questions, staying low. She asked about Dimes and Raphael, gleaning she could that would help her. She visited old haunts, hoping they would snap her out of her grief.
That she’d remember why she left in the first place, why she was back here at all.
Revenge.
She’d learned that Raphael would be at Dimes tonight. That today was his birthday, and the bastard was celebrating at the club. This was her chance to get access to him, to get close enough to kill him, for her dad, but also for Hysterian. If she didn’t act tonight, she didn’t know if she’d get another chance.
Raphael was a rich and powerful man. According to locals, he wasn’t hanging out at the club often anymore, having set his sights on other properties he managed.
Alexa felt the hard outline of the gun she’d bought second-hand at a pawn shop near the port, resting in the lip of her jeans. Her shirt hid it from view. In her pocket, she had an extra clip, just in case, but the gun was loaded and ready.
She just needed to get close enough to her target.
A short time later, she was at her destination.
The columbarium, where the ashes of her dad were. She swiped her wristcon, paying the fee to enter—because everything on Elyria demanded a fee—and made her way down the stark aisles of slots where urns of the dead rested. The poor dead. Flowers and stacks of mementos dirtied the ground, and she had to pick her way through.
Resting two feet above her, she stopped at her dad’s slot. Alexa stared at the nameplate.
The sun lowered as she stood there, darkening the aisles to gray, shifting the shadows to elongate the lettering.
She parted her lips to speak but quickly closed them.
She tried again and failed. Again.
I’m sorry. The words whispered through her mind.
