by Naomi Lucas
Elodie set it to cycle through the most commonly used frequencies and figured it would alert her if it made a connection. She still needed to wire it up. She’d ask Gunner for his input when he was done... armoring up.
Her clit still throbbed, even hours after her last orgasm, from continuous release. Watching him dress didn’t help at all. He made her want to melt back into him and demand another bout of sex. Elodie threaded her fingers and pushed her legs together in an effort to stop her body from wanting the wrong things at the wrong time, again. He can smell it every time. I knew that would be trouble.
Stop it. Elodie tore her eyes away, relocated her double banded sports bra and fled to the bathroom. It was time to hide her femininity anyway. The pressure of the disguise returned as she settled the bra into place.
Gunner appeared in the doorway, resting his shoulder on the frame, as she stepped into a clean uniform he sourced for her.
“You look like a boy.”
She cringed. “I wish I didn’t.”
“Why? Isn’t that what you’re aiming for?”
“Only because I have to. I’m tired of it. All of it. The façade. The game that has no end. Winning it is impossible and winning isn’t something I’ve ever seriously wanted to do.”
She also didn’t want Gunner to see her as a man anymore, but she would never admit that out loud.
He cocked his head. “Then why do it? You know, besides the obvious reason?”
“You already know that answer.”
“Chesnik. Family.” He sighed. “Still fucking clueless why though. Would you follow him anywhere? To the ends of the black universe? To hell?” His voice grew angry and she didn’t know why.
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Elodie frowned. “I don’t know anymore. One time I would’ve followed him anywhere. He’s my dad and he was all I knew but now... I’m not so sure,” she answered honestly.
“But you’d consider it?”
Would she? “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I love him. He’s the only thing I was ever able to love and he’s my dad. It’s always scared me, the thought of losing that love. I mean, what else is there without it?” Elodie lowered her voice despite herself, already slipping into her disguise, albeit unwillingly. “What’s the point of living if you never really live? Losing him in the brig was one of the worst experiences of my life. I don’t think humans are meant to be alone.”
“Would you die for him?”
“Of course I would! He’s my dad.” How many times would she have to say it? “But I know I would never have to. He’d never let me and he’d die for me too.” Talking about love made her uncomfortable. Especially with him. “Wouldn’t you die for family?”
“I don’t have any family. So, I wouldn’t be able to answer that. Plus, dying isn’t something a Cyborg can easily do.”
She caught his eyes in the mirror. “No family? What about other Cyborgs? Wouldn’t you consider them family?”
He shook his head. “Don’t look so crestfallen. We’re made the way we are for a reason and although that reason no longer exists, we have freedom and power in place of family. We do have each other, that’s true, but I would never consider the rest of them my family.” He laughed. “Cyborgs can’t stand being around each other for long periods of time. We innately repel.”
“You do?”
“Strong personalities.”
Hmph. “I can see that.”
“Maybe it’s our technology. If you get enough ‘Borgs together we heat up a room like a sauna located on the surface of a star, and that’s before we start fighting,” he added, laughing. “Regardless, we repel.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” She wondered what her life would be like if she didn’t have her dad, the choices she would’ve made. Power and freedom would be nice... “Do you like being alone?”
Gunner didn’t immediately answer her. She watched his face in the mirror as an unreadable expression took away the smirk that bowed his lips.
She suddenly regretted asking and was about to apologize when he spoke.
“That’s a hard question to answer.”
“You don’t have to answer it.”
He shook his head. “I will... It’s just hard to explain.”
He’s at a loss for words? Her brow crinkled.
“I was created half a century ago as a fully grown, functioning human being.” Gunner paused again. “Family and loneliness mean different things to me than they do to you. When I opened my eyes that first time I knew exactly what and who I was. I was born with all the knowledge I needed to exist in this reality. The machine was natural. The human was natural.” He shrugged. “The jackal not so much.”
The jackal? She opened her mouth but he continued talking before she could ask.
“It’s not common knowledge that each Cyborg is built differently, for different purposes. Technology can do so much but only so much can fit in the space of a body designed like a physically fit human. What is commonly known, though, is that we’re all designed with strength—some more than others—and the power to seed into the network and siphon energy. We all have speed. We all have perfect memories that function like storage units and a hard drive with practically infinite space. That’s the machine inside us, and machines don’t need family and they don’t get lonely. The problem is that not all of us are ruled by the machine, and regardless of what technology we’re given upon birth, we still have a conscience and we still have emotions. So your question is a hard one to answer.” He pushed away from the wall. “Each Cyborg created does have a different function and a different power stored within. Some call it checks and balances. I call it intrigue.”
“But jackal?” She was still stuck on jackal.
“Let me explain.” He took a step toward her. “The moment I woke up, I knew something was different about me. I had all this knowledge and I knew there were other Cyborgs—like me—waking up in separate vats throughout the cybernetic facility. My first memories were of feeling ill. I knew, instinctively, that Cyborgs didn’t wake up feeling that way, but there I was, freshly created, and feeling unnatural. There was a third part to me, an animalistic part, that agreed with my illness. I had just experienced life and yet I had an affinity for death.
“In those first minutes of waking I registered my abrupt obsession as a malfunctioning calibration, maybe a misplaced code, but the more I gleaned from my makeup and from the others around me, I quickly realized that the illness I was feeling wasn’t an error at all. It was a bestial contender for my headspace. That different part of me, the one that made me unique compared to all other Cyborgs, also made me unpredictable.
“Some beasts are docile, some beasts exist in perfect harmony with their environment. Those beasts are not jackals. We were all coded to win a war and war meant death, a lot of death. But in those first few years of my life, I wasn’t only filled with bloodlust like my brethren. I was filled to the brink with hunger, and I was ravenous. I felt at home among the corpses. Fucking docs spliced an opportunistic, pack-centric carrion-eater with a machine and then sent their creation off to war.”
Elodie stiffened her spine and held her ground. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Eat...carrion?”
“Never.”
Gunner stood at her back. Her fingers gripped the edge of the sink, her knuckles white. Relief filled her but so did her curiosity. “Did you want to though?”
His eyes flickered red. “Yes. The problem with a jackal-machine-human hybrid is the jackal thinks it’s a great idea and the machine sees an abundant energy source ripe for the plucking, but the man...” Gunner paused, “...the man is horrified. Horrified and outnumbered.” He pressed a hand to her lower back. “I have more control over myself than that, Ely, so don’t look so sick.” His palm was hot against her spine. “I never ate a corpse but I’m also not infallible. I didn’t do it out of motherfucking spite. Those who made me knew what they were doing and maybe it was
a fun test for them, to see how far they can push us before we lose control. I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.”
Gunner ran his hand up her body until he held the back of her neck. “No. I did what you did. I hid in plain sight and pretended normalcy. And although I was surrounded by corpses—constantly—for years, I buried that third part of me until it was like it never even existed. Because I am a spiteful bastard that didn’t want them to win. It was probably my biggest mistake.”
Gunner’s eyes went dark red and glazed as if he was looking into the past. To something she would never truly see. When he didn’t continue Elodie prompted, “Why was it a mistake?” She glanced down at her camouflage and wondered if she was making one herself.
“I corrupted myself.”
“How?”
“I erased some codes that I shouldn’t have.” He pried one of her hands away from the sink to capture it between his own. “I was looking for the parts of myself that gave control to the jackal but I ended up reconfiguring my basic settings instead. To do so is tantamount to suicide.” Gunner shrugged. “But at the time I was sick of feeling at home among the dead. And I’m not even a goddamn spider! Or a bat. I know a guy who obsessively rests upside down. Obsessively. Can you imagine?” He released a grim laugh.
Confusion still gripped her. “Did it work? What happened after you messed up your codes?”
“It did work. When it happened, I was commander of a battle station and suddenly I had no driving will to fight a war that wasn’t mine. Cyborgs want nothing more than to kill Trentians. Taking even one of those alien bastards out gives us a better high than any possible combination of narcotics. The scientists figured Pavlovian reinforcement to our basic coded desires was a good fail-safe. I inadvertently axed that part of my brain. I had dozens of ships in my fleet, all designed for guerrilla warfare and planetside battles. I got up, walked out of the bridge, hijacked one of the flyers and deserted. The shock I created brought on panic from the pretty boys in charge. My desertion branded me with eternal exile.”
Silence settled between them.
She hadn’t realized how little she knew about the dangerous man at her back until just then. And he was right, loneliness and family meant vastly different things to them. On top of that, the war had ended when one of the Cyborgs single-handedly demolished a Trentian colony ship roughly forty-five years earlier.
Everyone learned that as a child, but that had to mean that Gunner had already been alone for almost half a century.
She wanted to turn around and hug him, to bury her face into his chest and breathe in his hard smell, but that meant she’d have to stop looking at him, if even for a second. They watched each other quietly until the distance his words at first created slowly receded.
Until they were gone altogether and it was just the two of them again.
In a bleak situation.
Alone.
Gunner lifted a pair of scissors that she’d set aside earlier by the sink and raised them to her hair. He twirled them with his fingers and she was transfixed.
“Do you regret it?” she eventually asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
A small smile twisted the corner of his lip. “Because since then, they have never even tried to create another Cyborg like myself, at least one who preferred the dead over the living.”
“So you’re no longer hiding then?”
“Not anymore. Losing me was a costly shock—god, I love how much money I’m worth—and a setback. It created some political strife but it was for the best in the long run. Those that came into power after the war ended took into account that Cyborgs couldn’t be controlled forever. If they wanted our continued help and for us to never turn on them, we would have to be as free as any natural born man.”
“And your exile?”
“I’m not allowed to enter commercial air space or any Earthian-controlled colonies without prior notarized clearance from both the head the EPED and the fleet admiral in control of the region I’m visiting. I’m not allowed on any star port or waystation that is in full control of the government on pain of imprisonment. My contact with the civilized world is to be at the barest minimum,” Gunner said as he took the longer strands of her hair between his fingers started clipping away.
“Didn’t the government go after you when you deserted? Wouldn’t they try to kill you or lock you up? Even I knew that back then and treason is one of the highest crimes one can commit. You should be dead.”
“Power and freedom.” He smirked. “Elodie, I’m still employed by them.”
She deadpanned. “You are?”
“Yes.” Her strands fell softly around her shoulders in waves as he tugged her head back and forth and styled her hair. “The EPED or the Earthian Planetary Exploration Division. A pseudo-private corporation under the government umbrella. I’m a retriever for them and the job suits me. They can make use of me and send me to the brinks of the known universe to hunt and bring back whatever it is they want to study... Or to have quietly vanished from existence and in return I’m paid enough to keep my ship maintained and have purpose.”
“But after everything you’ve been through, don’t you want more?” She wasn’t exactly sure how old Gunner was but if he was created around the time the rest of the Cyborgs were, then he was at least twice her age. I would want more.
“Do you think I deserve more?”
“Yes, because you’re alive and free and scant few have the opportunities you have. You were exiled by the same people who are employing you, who created you. I would think you’d want more out of life than eternally roaming the edges of the known universe and working for them. Why not run?”
“I tried that. Nothing changed.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t understand. You could go off the grid, change your name, and get new upgrades. You could find a new ship and fly it so far away that no one would ever encounter you again. If you’re above the law why not just leave? You didn’t regret it then, what’s so different now?”
Gunner set down the scissors and ruffled her hair. “I don’t want to,” he said again and smiled, turning her around to face him. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve thought about it. I’ve tried and each time I turned back.”
“What stopped you?”
“What stopped me? There’s nothing out there and that scares me too. What else is there without this?” he asked, suddenly looking at her directly, intensely.
Her words from earlier were thrown back in her face. Gunner searched her eyes, imploringly, and she took a short step back, bewildered. The strings that pulled her to him cinched and wrapped around her heart. He rested his hands on the sink to either side of her.
He’s going to kiss me.
She dug her nails into the palms of her hands. He leaned down and she leaned back. Her lips parted and the guns on his cheeks pointed to his beautiful bow-shaped mouth.
If he kisses me...
But his lips never met hers.
“Well, are you ready?” The words breezed over her forehead and he took a step back.
She wasn’t ready. Not anymore. She was overwhelmed.
“No.” She licked her lips against the kiss he didn’t give her. “But it doesn't matter.” Elodie maneuvered around him, fleeing and leaving the bathroom behind. The courage she once held was now gone. “I don't want to be here anymore.”
Her heart raced as she collected the rest of her supplies, stopping at the table to pick up her contraption and a piece of piping she was going to wield as a weapon.
When she was done, she headed to the broken door. Her eyes briefly looked at the punctured wall, to the gel casings that littered the floor from the food replicator, and to the pile of blankets lying in the corner. The place had become a sanctuary and one she would always remember...but it was time to leave.
Gunner stood at the edge of the room quietly. Elodie refused to meet his gaze.
A surge of excitement shot through her. The taste of
freedom was at the tip of her tongue. When he finally approached, he looked bleak but self-assured and she wondered what he was thinking.
It was time to go.
He didn’t say anything as he gripped the door panel and shoved it into the wall. Heavy plumes of heat and steam, damp with humidity, cascaded over them as the giant machines came back into view and the sounds of shifting metal with it.
They stepped out together. Gunner took the lead and her excitement fled as she watched him walk away from her. Sweat beaded on her brow as he moved steadily further ahead. She knew he did it for her but it wasn’t helping. The gap between them widened. They were vastly different but she felt connected to him, now more than ever.
I don’t want to say goodbye to the only true friend I’ve ever made. The only person who sees me... And each residing step onward brought the possible inevitability closer.
Because Elodie knew, once they were out of this hellhole, life would return, and with it, their very real differences.
GUNNER MONITORED EVERY footfall behind him, listening to Ely following the path he set out for them through the rigs. She was at home within the machines and although he wanted to turn around and help her, he didn’t. He needed her to follow him of her own volition and he didn’t want to make her appear weak or feel unprepared with his newfound obsession with her well-being. He gritted his teeth and continued forward.
She was in her environment even if it was an unsafe one, but knowing that didn’t make it easier for him to not want to turn around and shield her.
“We’ll be rejoining the other prisoners soon, are you prepared?” he asked instead, adding to the distance she’d already created. He wasn’t an idiot. I know why she pulled away.
It was also so he would not turn around and press her into his side.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Was he prepared? The question made him scoff as they ducked under a railing, dodged a steam vent, and turned the corner. Even now, with the barrier still between them and the others, he could already begin to sense the activities of the prisoners. They were preparing.
