The Prince and the Cyborg: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  The Prince and the Cyborg

  Star Crossed Tales

  By J. M. Page

  Copyright 2016 J. M. Page

  Copyright J. M. Page 2016

  Cover design by Jacob Gandy

  This book is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious and any similarity to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidence.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Epilogue

  BONUS Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Celine

  “Celine, get your head out of the dust and get back to work!”

  The young woman sighed, wondering if he could possibly know she’d been dreaming of the sky again. “Yes, father.” Her fingers moved in a blur, repairing the malfunctioning speech unit in front of her. She had yet to meet the gadget, gizmo, or contraption that she couldn’t disassemble, repair, and reassemble without a hitch.

  Celine finished her assignment and went back to tinkering with her pet project: trying to get off the ground. Living in the Wastelands didn’t really provide her with a ton of materials, but every once in a long while on her exploratory missions she would find something amazing. She examined the little device, maybe a navigation unit? It was hard to tell, the technology of the old humans was pretty primitive and clunky, but it looked like this particular piece was ruined by the magnetic dust in the air.

  “Ahem, I do not think your father would approve of this,” a small robot commented as it rolled across her workspace.

  “Shh, if you don’t tell him, I certainly won’t,” Celine whispered with a conspiratorial smile. She sent a quick look towards the storefront her father operated out of their home, making sure he wasn’t within earshot.

  “But if he finds out and knows I knew he might unplug me.” The little bot quivered, its bolts rattling.

  “Oh, Rufus, you know I would just put you back together.” Celine reached across her workspace and tightened his loose nuts.

  She’d created the little bot years ago, putting different spare parts together to create something new. He definitely had the appearance of something homemade, complete with rough edges and eclectic charm. Over the years she had tinkered and upgraded various parts of him, but never touched his core AI.

  He trembled again, this time silent in his fear. “But if I’m unplugged I could lose all my memories. I wouldn’t be me anymore,” he whined, his over-sized optic lenses giving him a pitiful look that made Celine chuckle.

  “Okay, okay, I promise I won’t let him unplug you.”

  She looked over to the pile of malfunctioning parts and pieces littering her workspace. Her father was the Parts Master and de-facto leader of the modders and Celine had become chief technician in the past couple of years. Dad always said that her arm was the finest piece he’d ever crafted and somehow it could do things even he couldn’t. Celine’s mechanical arm never failed to fix something and she often wondered why anyone had flesh arms at all.

  She flexed the fingers on her human hand and marveled at how seamless the movement of her joints was, how soft her skin was, and how sensitive the tips of her fingers were. Maybe there was something to be said for the human parts, too.

  Celine worked for a little while longer before pushing the artifact away with a huff. “You know,” she said, casting a look over to Rufus, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, “I think I’m missing a part I need to fix this.”

  “What are you talking about? You never have troubl—”

  Celine gave him a meaningful look, a smile playing across her lips. “No, I’m pretty sure I need to go scouting to find the right piece,” she said, hardly more than a whisper as she watched the door.

  Rufus’s eyes lit up, flashing with understanding. He shuddered and shook until he couldn’t hold it in anymore and started to spin circles across her work space, sending pieces and parts flying in all directions. “Yeah! Let’s go!” he said too loudly, following it with chirps and beeps of excitement.

  “Shh! Okay, okay,” Celine said, laughing. She packed up her space, carefully hiding her illicit projects before sneaking out of the repair shop with her robotic companion.

  On her way out of the tunnels, Celine grabbed her outerwear — a flowy single piece of fabric that covered her head to toe, meant to keep the dust at bay.

  Rufus perched on her shoulder, half-hidden under a fold in the fabric. The dust was particularly bad for mechanical parts. Every mote had its own tiny magnetic field and even the finest coating of the stuff could destroy moving parts and ruin computer chips. Always better to be safe than sorry.

  “What do you think we’ll find today?” Rufus asked, his voice permanently child-like and full of wonder.

  Celine shrugged and Rufus burrowed in closer to her neck as he slid down her shoulder. “We may not find anything,” she said, navigating the labyrinth of underground tunnels without a second thought.

  As they neared one of the entrances to the tunnels, Celine heard wind howling outside and pulled her covering a little tighter around her body. The storm never ended, but some days were worse than others. On the rarest of occasions, there was nearly enough visibility to see the sky. Nearly.

  She could tell from the sound of it that this wouldn’t be one of those days. She’d be lucky to see three feet in front of her. But some days, anything beat staying buried underground in the tunnels.

  “I bet we’ll find something really cool,” Rufus answered, vibrating against the crook of her neck with anticipation.

  At the mouth of the cave, Celine pulled the wrap over her face and patted Rufus gently. “Maybe we will.”

  She stepped from the safety of the tunnels into the swirling dust of the surface, shielding her eyes to peer as far as she could into the distance.

  As was the case every day, the only thing she could see in any direction was more dust. Celine knew if she turned one direction and followed the rock face she’d find other entrances to the tunnels, most of them unused these days.

  But she wasn’t interested in going back into the tunnels. Not yet. Maybe after she’d found something.

  “How about we go North today?” Celine said over the howl of the wind.

  Rufus rattled and gripped her shoulder tight. “N-north? To the city?”

  Celine chuckled and rolled her eyes even though the bot wouldn’t be able to see the gesture.

  “Old fairy tales, Ru. If there ever was a walled city — and that’s a big if — it’s probably nothing but ruins by now. I bet they’ve got really cool stuff there,” she added in a sing-song tone, trying to entice him. Even though he was a thing of her own creation, Rufus often served as Celine’s voice of reason… when she’d let him. Normally she just convinced him to do whatever ill-advised thing she had her heart set on.

&nbs
p; “Cool stuff?” he murmured, his interest piqued ever-so-slightly.

  Celine nodded, her smile growing underneath her covering. “Lots of cool stuff.”

  Rufus trembled, chirped and shook until she thought he might implode. Then finally he stilled and emitted a couple of beeps.

  “Okay, let’s do it!”

  Content that she’d gotten her way again, Celine set off in the direction she knew to be North. She didn’t have a lot of faith that they’d find much of anything, but it was at least a different quest.

  The day passed faster than Celine would have liked. She traversed the great expanse of desert, stopping now and again to rest and rehydrate, the only measurement of time available to her was the long winding path her footsteps made in the sand and even that was quickly erased.

  “Celine, don’t you think your dad’s going to wonder where you are?” Rufus asked as she ducked under a rocky overhang to catch her breath and clear her arm of accumulating dust. She took the little bot from its perch on her shoulder and whipped out a soft-bristled brush, cleaning the dust off before it could get thick enough to interfere with his systems.

  She looked out at the great shifting dunes and sighed. “You’re probably right. He’ll blow a fuse if he knows I was out on the surface all day.”

  “M-m-maybe we should go home,” Rufus stuttered as he tried to hide under Celine’s robe. “Last time he threatened to scrap me.”

  She had to stifle a giggle. Her father said a lot of things like that. As she’d gotten older, Celine realized he was never going to actually follow through with any of those threats. They were just his attempt at keeping her safe. Of keeping her in line.

  But Celine didn’t want to be kept in line. She wanted more than what she could find in their little tunnels. She wanted to see the sky. She wanted to leave the planet. She wanted to see the galaxy.

  If she ever said something like that around her father, he probably would blow a fuse.

  “I guess we’ll turn back then,” she said, a small part of her still rebelling against the idea.

  She replaced the folds of fabric around her body carefully and scooped Rufus up, letting him wriggle his way back onto her shoulder where he was safe.

  The roar of the wind picked up, making it difficult for her to hear even her own thoughts as she walked back into the maelstrom.

  But it wasn’t the sound of normal wind. There was a strange whirring. A high-pitched whine that stretched toward her.

  Ignoring her earlier decision to go home, she followed the sound, scrambling over a nearby dune just in time to see the hovercraft speed by.

  “Rufus! Did you see that?” Celine herself felt like she might be vibrating with excitement the same way he did when she talked him into these scouting missions. Her heart beat a quick rhythm against her ribcage, her lungs feeling over-inflated to the point where she was light-headed.

  Who was that?

  And what was that?

  Rufus withdrew into himself like a startled turtle. “Nope, nothing seen,” he whimpered.

  Celine rolled her eyes and scrambled down the other side of the dune, taking off in the direction of the hovercraft, making sure to keep her distance.

  She’d never seen a vehicle like that — it moved so fast! She wondered if it was capable of leaving orbit. Of seeing the sky.

  Her heart thundered at the thought. She’d heard stories of stars — burning balls of gas so far away that they only looked like pin pricks in the vast blackness of space. She’d heard stories, but never knew what to believe.

  Stars seemed like a made-up wonder that Celine would only believe if she saw it with her own eyes.

  Venturing to the stars was just an impossible fantasy until that moment. Until she watched the hovercraft list to one side, dive and bounce on the sand, eventually skidding to a stop.

  Chapter Two

  Ben

  Prince Bennett was used to being trapped. Trapped by his lineage, by expectations placed on his shoulders, by the walls of the palace. But he’d never been trapped by gravity.

  Flying had always been his refuge. The thing that came more naturally to him than even walking. The vast emptiness of space called to him like it had his ancestors millennia ago.

  And he was grounded.

  He walked through the vast empty halls without purpose, his eyes drifting towards the windows and the dusty orange sky beyond. The days grew longer and longer and there was little comfort to be found without flying. He couldn’t stand to be locked up in the palace any more than he could stand being grounded, so he ventured into the city.

  Tensions ran high in the walled city of Terranys lately. While the diplomats and bureaucrats squabbled about tariffs and tolls, the citizens were going without. With all flights grounded — in and out — there had been shortages, and the river of wealth that generally graced their economy had run dry.

  Opinions of the royal family were not favorable.

  But Ben was never one to let that stop him. When he first joined the Space Academy, other pilots treated him differently because of his heritage, but he quickly shut them up.

  If he was going to be grounded, he could at least be well-hydrated.

  It was only a couple of blocks to his usual watering hole, but as soon as he pushed the door open, Ben knew something was amiss. The general rowdiness that normally greeted him was replaced by stony silence as thirty pairs of eyes burned straight through him.

  He held up his hands, palm forward, the universal sign for ‘I’m not looking for trouble.’

  All around the bar, projected images of his father spoke about the political troubles and economic crisis. The Terranys News Network kept it playing on a loop, constantly reminding people why they were so disgruntled. Reminding Ben why they looked at him now, not as a brother, but as an other.

  “Your Highness,” sneered a young guy in a pilot’s gray jumpsuit, stepping up to offer his barstool. He looked barely old enough to be in a place like this, but his friends snickered behind him and Ben decided not to engage. It wouldn’t do him any favors to teach the kid a lesson in respect. Not with so many scrutinizing eyes already on him.

  He made his way to the very end of the bar, turning so that his back was against the wall and he could see the entire establishment.

  “You shouldn’t be here, you know,” said Alex, the bartender.

  “Stop giving me life advice and pour me a drink,” Ben answered.

  Alex huffed and walked away with a pronounced limp. His souvenir for his time in the Space Force.

  He returned with a frosty mug for Ben and the Prince took a long pull, savoring the bittersweet flavor.

  “I mean it, Ben. There are whispers of a coup, an uprising at the very least. You shouldn’t be out in a place like this, not without protection,” Alex said, his voice low and strained.

  Ben chuckled. “Are you saying you wouldn’t protect me? I thought we were brothers.” They’d served together years ago, before Alex’s… accident.

  Alex leaned forward, his elbows on the bar, and leveled his steely grey eyes at Ben, his brows pushed low in a scowl. “Because I’m your brother, I’m trying to warn you it isn’t safe.”

  Ben waved off his concerns. No one was going to cause trouble for him, and if they did, well… It would be more exciting than the constant rut of boredom he was in.

  He still felt eyes burning into him as he and Alex talked, but he paid them no mind. He’d gotten used to those kind of looks in the academy, back when he’d been the youngest recruit in three centuries and everyone thought it was because of his royal lineage.

  That was, until he flew.

  The need to prove himself wasn’t as strong these days as it once was, but The Grounding had his skin itching for excitement and his heart yearning for adventure.

  For now, he’d have to comfort himself with some of Terranys’s strongest drink.

  “You’ve been to the Wastelands, haven’t you, Ern?” The rude youngster from before turned toward the op
posite end of the bar where a grizzled old man sat surrounded by guys Ben’s age and younger. His rapt audience, apparently.

  “Oh, I most certainly have,” the old man said, waving the bartender over for another round of drinks. “And believe me when I tell you, that’s no place you wanna be.”

  Ben cocked an eyebrow over his mug, his interest piqued. Old Ernsen had been a great pilot in his day, but that day was in the past.

  Way way in the past.

  In the past few years, Ern had gotten himself into trouble a few times for his… forgetfulness. Sometimes he forgot the date or his medication. Other times he forgot his pants or what planet he was on.

  “Cause of the dust?” Another young pilot asked, dragging his stool to the old man’s side.

  Ern clucked his tongue and shook his head. “No. The dust will kill ya alright, but the real terror is…” He paused, looking around for effect, and like he was telling a ghost story to a bunch of children, he shook his head, tsking again. “Nah. You don’t wanna hear ‘bout that.”

  A chorus of protests erupted from the group of bored guys and Alex came over to refill Ben’s drink.

  “What’s Ern on about down there?” Ben asked, a smirk turning his lips.

  Alex lifted his broad shoulders in a shrug. “No telling today. Last week it was Moon Monsters out on Signys-5.”

  Ben nearly lost his drink through his nose after a violent snort of laughter. “Moon Monsters? You’ve gotta be kidding.”

  Alex shrugged again.

  “Come on, Ern, what’s out there?”

  The old man raised his knotted silver brows, his eyes sparkling obsidian. “Y’all really wanna know?”

  More encouragement.

  Ern heaved a great sigh, like it was going to be difficult for him to talk about. Like there was a physical weight on his spine as he leaned forward, elbows on the bar.

  “Modders,” he wheezed in a whisper. Murmurs spread through the younger ranks.

  Ben rolled his eyes. “This should be good,” he said, a little louder than he should’ve.