Titanium (Bionics)

by Michaels, Alicia

  By the time I reached Atlanta—after several stops and days spent hiding in the baggage car of the monorail—the manhunt for every man, woman and child who’d ever received a Bionic limb from the government was on.

  I met Blythe on one of the hottest days of the year 4008. Even though we’d just had snow the day before, the temperature was now a blazing 110 degrees in Atlanta, and Georgia’s characteristic humidity was at an all-time high. It is a sign of the times we live in—melted snow streaming down the street in slushy chunks as people in tank tops, shorts, and sandals walk the sidewalk covered in a glistening sheen of sweat.

  I’d give anything to be wearing shorts right now, but I can’t let my legs show. The linen pants I’m wearing are thin, but everything feels like a turtleneck and a pair of corduroys in this heat. I’m walking through a well-to-do neighborhood in Northern Atlanta, heading toward a safe house for Bios I’m sharing with about fifteen other people. The safe house is run by an old man we call Pops, and he is not one of us. He lost most of his family in the blasts and just wants to help in any way he can. Little do we know that on this day, the hottest day of 4008, we will lose our only friend and protection from the world in a raid.

  It is because of this raid that I encounter a girl with a Bionic eye, who sits on the lawn in front of a sprawling, three story house with a white picket fence, crying as she stares down the barrel of a gun. Somehow, everything else ceases to exist in that moment. The groceries I’m carrying fall to the ground and the paper sacks rip, spilling the contents across the pavement. I faintly register the smell of fire and smoke coming from deeper in the neighborhood and in my mind I know they’ve discovered our safe house and possibly several others.

  Families line the street, many of them crying and screaming as M.P.s cart off their loved ones, shoving them into the back of the hovercrafts lining the street. These crafts are headed for Stonehead and everyone knows once you go in, there is no coming out.

  Why this one girl should pull on my heart strings when there are others suffering nearby, I am not sure. Maybe it’s because of the three bodies strewn across the lawn behind her; two adults and a child no older than five, all dead. Maybe it’s because instead of arresting her for due process, three jackass M.P.s are taunting her over just having killed her family, and threatening to kill her for fighting back as they dragged her from the house.

  As I run to her, she looks up and her eyes connect with mine. I know I have to save her.

  It all happened so fast, but within the span of a minute, I’d kicked loose one of the boards of the white picket fence and used it as a weapon against the three M.P.s. Despite my broken past, this is the first time I will ever kill. I feel no remorse as I shove the pointed fencepost through the face shield of the last officer standing, feel no pity as his blood bathes my neck and shoulders. I feel only primal satisfaction for finally fighting back.

  I am tired of running.

  The girl is in the fetal position on the ground, clutching the little girl against her chest and sobbing in a way I’ve never heard anyone sob before. The sound will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

  By now we’ve caught the attention of others, who have seen what I’ve done. A riot breaks out on the street, with Bios fighting alongside their families, desperate to save themselves and each other, tired of taking shit from the government.

  In the midst of the fray is Blythe, broken, beaten and grieving, lying in the grass like a kicked puppy, waiting to die.

  I won’t let her.

  I scoop her into my arms and lay her over my lap as I straddle the seat of an unattended hover bike. Somehow we make it out of the neighborhood alive and to another safe house I know about across town. Blythe sits and stares off into space for two days without moving or speaking. The woman who runs the safe house, Mae, bathes Blythe and changes her clothes. She tries to coax Blythe to eat or drink, but she won’t. She doesn’t speak. All she can tell us is that her name is Blythe and that her family was murdered right in front of her.

  It is on that third day, when the M.P.’s raids sweep the city in our direction, that I remember the Professor’s card in my wallet. There is talk of a revolution, a resistance, an organization started by the very man who created us. I don’t know if the rumors are true, but if Jenica Swan can be believed, contacting the Professor will provide me with a safe haven.

  On the third day after Blythe’s family was killed, I smuggle her out of the safe house and into the trunk of Mae’s car. She’s agreed to get us as far West as she can, to get us as close to our rendezvous point with Jenica Swan as she can. We arrive in Oklahoma without incident, where we meet up with another group of Bios headed in the same direction. Weeks later we arrive in Nevada, where we meet up with the co-founder of the Resistance. She ushers us on board a hovercraft with twenty others and flies us out over the painted dessert.

  As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we are never seen or heard from again.

  Dax Janner and Blythe Sol

  Memphis Hideout of Restoration Resistance

  August 28, 4010

  5:00 am

  I am suddenly jolted awake by the sound of my comm. device blaring at my hip. The deep, dark pit of my dreams is still clinging to me, but I am forced to shake it off as I leap from the bed to answer Jenica’s call. Now is not the time for confronting old ghosts.

  Blythe is on her feet and at my side in a heartbeat.

  “This is Janner,” I answer.

  “Janner, this is Bronson, we’ve got a problem.”

  Blythe frowns. “Gage?” She whispers.

  “Bronson, where is Swan?”

  “She’s got her hands full at the controls. We are about five miles out from your location and we’re taking on heavy fire here from the M.P.s. Looks like they set up camp because they were expecting us to come back.”

  “Goddamn it,” I mumble as I snatch up my jacket from its place on the floor. Blythe holds my comm. device while I slide it on and we proceed from the room together. “No wonder things were so quiet,” I say as I signal Laura from across the room, “they were waiting for the big prize.”

  Jenica Swan is one of America’s most wanted criminals, second only to the Professor. If they know she’s at the controls of the hovercraft, they don’t give a damn about a bunch of Bionics hiding out underground. They know we can’t get far without her.

  “Jenica’s asked me to have you and your security team head our way with as many weapons as you can carry. If you’ve got hover bikes, that would be nice too. We’re holding them off for now, but there’s a shitload of them and they just keep coming.”

  “Roger that. Send me your coordinates and tell Jenica to sit tight. We’re on our way.”

  Laura is at my side immediately as the comm. device’s screen fills up with Gage’s typed-in coordinates.

  “Are they here?” Laura asks, hope in her voice. I notice that there are others—non security team members—standing close by and listening. They look scared and I don’t want anyone to panic. I propel Laura closer to the exit leading to the tunnel. Somewhere out there, two guards are standing watch vigilantly.

  “They are here,” I whisper, eyeing the curious refugees over her shoulder. They are watching us, so I school my face into an expression of calm. “But there’s a problem. Five miles out, they encountered the M.P.s. They didn’t attack us here, because they were waiting for reinforcements to come to us.”

  “What’s the plan?” Laura asked.

  “We’re going out there to help them. I’ve got coordinates and those who can take hover bikes should, to get there faster. We’ll instruct everyone else to stay put, maybe leave a few of the weapons with them just in case. But those on the security team with fighting experience need to come with us. We need as many hands as possible.”

  “Got it,” Laura says with a swift nod. “Meet you outside in five.”

  Blythe and I ensure that our guns are at our hips before we race off down the long tunnel toward the only
open exit. I update the two guards on what’s going on and send them back inside to get armed. I’m relieved to find six hover bikes parked nearby and mentally thank our M.P. friends for leaving them behind. Blythe helps me get each bike started and soon, the gentle hum of energy flowing from each floating vehicle surrounds us like a swarm of bees. I look up at Blythe, whose standing on the other side of the bike I’ve just started. She’s staring wordlessly, her expression equal parts worry, anxiety, and confusion. I know the confusion is there because of me and I feel like shit because of it. This is the worse time for me to start talking about feelings and, in her case, the lack thereof.

  “Dax,” she says softly, her eyebrows knitting together. I know she’s trying to decide what to say. “You told me you love me.”

  I nod once, a tense, jerky motion. “Yes. I meant it.”

  “I know,” she answers. Of course she knows. She’s always known, whether she wants to admit it or not.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” I say, pretending to check the hovercraft’s gauges. “Now really isn’t the best time but … no matter what happens today I just wanted you to know that.”

  Warmth fills my palm as she places her hand in mine. She gives it a gentle squeeze and my eyes connect with hers. I’m sure she’s about to say something, but I don’t know if it’s what I want to hear. Laura and the others save us both and by the time the small group reaches us, Blythe has taken her hand back.

  “All right everyone,” I begin, facing our small group of fighters and ex-soldiers. “I’ve got coordinates for where the hovercraft has landed. They’re taking on heavy fire, so be expected to jump in there and go to work. If you have a gun, make sure it’s set to stun. We all know that the Resistance is not about taking lives and we won’t do so unless we have to.”

  “Do you think any of them give a damn whether you live or die, mate?” a voice intrudes from the back of the group. I know that voice. The crowd parts to reveal the Rejects, with Blade at their forefront.

  “What the hell are you people doing out here?” Blythe asks, stepping between me and them.

  Blade steps forward, his metal head gleaming in the light of the slowly rising sun. “You said you needed help. Here we are, at your service.”

  “We don’t need you on our side,” Blythe counters, arms folded across her chest. “Everyone here knows about your kind and what you stand for. We are not on the same team.”

  “Well aren’t you a fiery one?” Blade chuckles. “I like that. Pardon my rudeness, love. The name’s Baron and I think you’ll find my cause is the same as yours. I want freedom for people like us. Our methods might be a bit different, but we all want the same thing.”

  “It’s your methods we have a problem with,” she answers. “We are not killers.”

  “Shame, really,” Baron retorts with a lazy smile. “You may not have the stomach for it now, girl, but we’ll see how long it takes you to change your tune. You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that. But this war that’s brewing won’t be won by chivalry and spirit. In the end, I predict that the only accepted method will be punishment by death, for anyone who dares to oppose us.”

  “That’s enough!” I interject. “We don’t have time for this. We are going into those woods to help our friends. If you want to help, try to keep up and don’t get in the way.” I turn to the rest of my gathered men—and woman. “Two to a bike, which means twelve will reach the scene first. The rest of you follow on foot—preferably those with equipment that increases speed.”

  I read the coordinates out loud to everyone, who programs them into their hover bike GPS units and comm. devices respectively. The team quickly divides into groups—those who will be going on foot, and those that will share bikes. I am grateful to see Laura and Blythe sharing a bike. While I know that Blythe has some fighting experience—she knows jujitsu and can handle a gun—I also know that Laura, with her military training and experience, will look after her.

  Blythe grabs my shoulder as I take my place at the front of the group, remaining on foot as the machinery in my legs will carry me about as fast as a hover bike could.

  “I don’t like it, Dax,” she whispers, cutting her eyes over at the Rejects, who have also decided to go on foot. Spikes is flexing her arms, allowing the sharp, jagged pieces of metal embedded there to protract completely. Around her, the others prepare to fight, various appendages sprouting with mechanized weapons. “The Professor wouldn’t like it either.”

  “I know,” I answer with a shrug, “but we need the manpower. They’ve already said they’re not interested in coming to Headquarters with us. Once we get rid of the M.P.s, they’ll go on their way and we’ll go ours. It’s as simple as that.”

  Blythe sighs and her lips go tight in the way they do when she’s got something else to say but chooses not to. She nods her agreement but I know she’s not happy about it. I’m not too excited myself, but I’m not in the mood to argue with a bunch of freaks that have deformed their bodies with weaponized bionic parts. Our only way out is with Jenica on that hovercraft and nothing is going to stop me from making it happen.

  “Hey,” Laura calls out, “take this!”

  She tosses me a long, gleaming object that I realize once it’s in my hand that it is an automatic weapon.

  “The ARX290?” My jaw drops as I turn the large weapon over in my hands, inspecting its flawless, gleaming surface and long barrel. It’s one of the most cutting edge laser weapons on the market and I’m wondering how the hell she has access to one. The settings are the same as a handgun, so I can chose to stun or kill, but the rapid fire mechanism makes it easier to hit multiple targets quickly.

  Laura holds up a matching weapon. “I’ve got a spare,” she says with a wink. I am so digging this chick.

  “Nice, thanks,” I say, handing my handgun off to someone else. He gladly accepts it in place of the long, rusty pipe he was previously set to do battle with.

  “Okay, let’s roll out!” I bellow before taking off at a brisk trot. It takes a few minutes for me to build up speed, but eventually I catch up to the bikes humming several feet above my head. The other group of runners falls behind within minutes, with the exception of one of the Rejects—a guy with matching Bionic arms who is propelling himself from tree to tree like some sort of flying monkey.

  I hear the fight several minutes before we see anything, and ready the ARX as I barrel through the last of the trees separating me from my ride home. When we enter the clearing where the hovercraft has landed, I find myself surrounded by M.P.s on either side. Many of them have taken refuge in the trees, their weapons trained on the hovercraft and the members of our team firing through the small porthole-like windows lining its sides. I readily spot Gage, who has popped open the craft’s roof hatch and is sticking out of the top of the craft. He holds a weapon similar to mine in his hands and he fires rapidly into the trees, the top half of his body laid across the hovercrafts surface, his legs still dangling inside.

  Jenica is at the controls, manning the hovercraft’s only weapon, a large gun mounted on a turret a few feet behind Gage. The turret swivels as Jenica fires on one of the three, large tanks parked nearby. Other members of our team fire from their open windows, poking their heads out between the fire coming from the M.P.s and taking aim on our enemy.

  I’m immediately attacked from the left, and I turn just in time to catch an M.P. in the face with the butt of my ARX. The fiberglass of his helmet shatters and I hear the distinct snapping of a nose being broken before a gush of blood follows. That guy is out cold, so I’m on to the guy coming at my right, who tries to grab me and punch me in my titanium ribs. The force puts a dent in his body armor and he cries out in pain as the sound of metal against metal fills us both with the vibrations of impact. I use his moment of weakness to deliver a roundhouse kick to the head, putting another dent in his armor and knocking him out next to his friend. It’s taken years of practice to be able to get my leg that high, but it’s paid off.

 
As I duck down behind a large rock and take aim at a group of three M.P.s trotting toward the hovercraft, those on their bikes swoop in and out of the trees, their weapons firing as they duck and dodge and return fire. I spot Blythe, who is pointing toward something in the trees and yelling in Laura’s ear, and I realize her Bionic eye has picked up on a heat signal in the woods.

  After stunning the three guys in my sights, one by one, I jump up and take off in the direction Blythe and Laura are taking, anxious to get a look at where they’re headed. I come up short as I spot it—a weapon known as the Annihilator. Manned by a group of four M.P.s, I know that the large cannon being wheeled slowly toward the clearing is capable of reaching temperatures so high, it could melt flesh from bone. Only very specific types of body armor can withstand the heat and the only person I know that could survive without said armor is Yasmine.

  Seeing as how the rest of us don’t have impenetrable skin, I whip out my comm. device and quickly put in a call to Jenica.

  “Swan, this is Janner. We have a problem.”

  Jenica’s voice crackles over the line and I quickly turn the volume down so that the M.P.s can’t overhear. They’re nowhere near close enough, but one can never be too safe.

  “I’m kind of busy here, Janner!” Jenica snaps, her voice tinged with annoyance and strain. The sound of the Hovercraft’s weapon and the hum of hover bikes zooming through the air fills our frequency with background noise.

  “Just thought you’d want to know these bastards have an Annihilator out here,” I say casually. “No big deal.”

  “Shit,” Jenica yells as she fires again. “We’ve got to find a way to take it out! What is your position?”

  “A few hundred yards from where you are, in a southeastern direction. I’ve got eyes on the big boy; they’re wheeling it toward you now. Sol has eyes on it from the sky so I think I’ll see what she’s got in mind. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

  “Roger that, Janner, do whatever you have to. Take it out. Now!”