Page 12 of Her Alien Cyborgs (The Drift: Haven Colony #10)
Kalan had walked into the galley feeling like a new male. He’d chosen everything about his appearance, from the boots on his feet to the flavor of the dental foam he’d used to clean his teeth.
His euphoria changed the moment he saw Fyr’enth. His brother, his clone, had made changes, too, and they weren’t the same ones he’d made.
He cast around for the right words, but nothing suited the moment. Instead, he went with something mundane and hoped his brother understood. “Nice boots.”
Fyr’enth grinned. “Same to you. I’ve got to ask, though. How do you expect to fight in those pants? One kick and you’re going to split the seams.”
“They stretch.” Kalan did a deep squat to demonstrate.
“And there will be no fighting,” Hezza said, her voice firm.
“Even if we’re being chased, they won’t catch up with us until we drop into normal space and stay there for a while.
Also, no friendly sparring matches until I figure out a safe space for you to do it.
If you two start throwing kicks and punches, my poor ship will be the one to suffer.
She’s got enough dents on the outside. I don’t need to add more to her interior. ”
“We could set up something in the same cargo bay you thought we could use for stretching our wings,” Fyr’enth suggested.
“That could work,” Hezza agreed. “But if you break anything, you’ll be the ones repairing it. Right after I teach you how.”
She pointed to the battered metal table. “There are stools stashed in a cubby on the far wall. Those will work better than chairs, since they won’t interfere with your wings. Go ahead and pull them out while I get this food sorted. It won’t take long.”
They moved in sync, and it was oddly reassuring to see that not everything had changed.
He switched their conversation to their internal link “You cut your hair. I didn’t expect that.”
“ I wanted something different. I didn’t think you’d cut most of your beard off. This is strange.”
Kalan nodded. “But not in a bad way. Though I do find it odd that we chose different styles. We’re clones. Shouldn’t we want the same things?”
“Apparently not. But we already knew we weren’t identical in every way. This is just the first time we’ve been free to choose for ourselves.”
They also hadn’t told each other what they were doing. Each of them had done this of their own volition. All the times he’d imagined what life might look like after they’d escaped, he’d never considered that his choices wouldn’t be the same as Fyr’enth’s.
Kalan abandoned that line of thought for now. He wasn’t in the mood for deep thoughts or hard conversations. “I chose well. I’m not sure about your choices. The boots are good, but the hair?” He rocked one hand from side to side. “We should ask Hezza which of us looks better now.”
“Winner gets more bacon?” Fyr’enth asked out loud as he handed over one of the stools from the cubby.
“Deal.”
“Winner of what?” Hezza asked.
They turned to find her setting a large platter laden with flat discs of something golden and fluffy on the table.
“We want you to decide which of us did the better job with our new looks,” Kalan said.
“And then I want to know what those are,” Fyr’enth pointed to the platter.
Hezza ignored the part about her judging them and focused on the food.
“Those are pancakes. You eat them with melted butter, syrup, or fruit preserves. I usually add all three and let them fight it out for dominance, but you can experiment. Sit down, I’ll bring the rest of the meal over.
” She smiled. “And no, there will be no contest for whose makeover came out best. You both look incredible. In fact, I want to know how you came up with the looks you chose.”
“I asked the AI to show me current styles popular with males of all species. I liked this one. The bot that delivered my clothes stayed to assist me with the haircutting process with the AI’s guidance.”
Kalan snorted with surprise. “You let a machine cut your hair?”
“I allowed the AI to do it, yes.” Fyr’enth glowered at him. “How else could I manage to do the back?”
“And that is why I bought an upgrade for the AI years ago. It cuts my hair, too. Even in the back where it’s hard to reach.” Hezza returned to the table with two more large plates stacked with food.
“If one of you could get the knives and forks, that would be helpful. They’re in the top drawer next to the space where you found the stools.”
“I’ll get them,” Kalan offered. “And I will help with the food. You do not have to do everything yourself, Hezza. You’re paying us as members of the crew. Let us do something to earn that.”
He rose and went to the drawer she’d indicated. Inside were a variety of utensils. Some he recognized, but others were a complete mystery. He’d have to ask about those another time.
“These are metal,” he said as he retrieved the knives and forks she’d asked for. The knives all had rounded blades that were too dull to do much damage, but he could still stab someone with one. The forks were possibly more dangerous still.
“They are. Cheap to make, easy to clean, and they don’t wear out.” Hezza’s eyes widened. “And I bet you weren’t allowed access to anything that could be used as a weapon.”
“You would be right,” he said. Returning to the table, he handed a set of utensils to Fyr’enth before placing another set in a small, empty space where he assumed Hezza would sit.
Fyr’enth put his cutlery down and went back to his job of taking whatever Hezza handed him and finding a place for it on the quickly filling table.
“Do either of you know what coffee is?” Hezza asked once the plates of food were all laid out.
“I’ve heard about it on vids and in books, but they never gave us anything other than water,” Kalan said.
“Hmm. Then maybe we’ll leave that for another time. Take a seat, Fyr. I’ll grab us a couple of types of fruit juice so you can try them. If you don’t like any of them, there’s always water.”
“So many choices,” Kalan murmured as he watched Hezza program her requests into the machine she called a food dispenser.
He planned to ask her how to use it soon.
He’d seen it making the stack of pancakes and now their drinks, so he assumed it could provide them with other items. He intended to try them all.
When Hezza was finally in her seat, they all tucked into a feast the likes of which he’d never imagined.
“This is glorious,” Fyr’enth declared around a mouthful of bacon.
“If I had known that real food was this good, I’d have tried harder to escape.”
“Did you do that?” Hezza asked in a gentle voice. “Escape, I mean.”
It felt strange to be able to talk openly about this.
“Honestly? No. In the beginning, we didn’t have the will to try.
Later, it was obvious we’d never make it off the station.
Even if we’d reached the hangar bays, neither of us knows how to pilot a ship, and the AIs on board would not have obeyed us since we weren’t crew. ”
“But we thought about it a lot. At least I did. We were closely monitored, so it wasn’t something we could talk about, but thinking of ways to get away was how I made it through the long nights and the worst of the experiments.”
“I did too. Inside our minds was the only safe place we had.”
“Wait, they monitored your internal comms, too? I didn’t know they could do that,” Hezza said.
“They did. I couldn’t even tell Kalan I’d chosen a name for myself for months. I had to whisper it to him one time when we were doing combat trials.”
“I’m so sorry. You deserved so much better than to exist as nothing more than a number, even to each other.”
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.
Surprisingly, Fyr’enth talked first. “Speaking of names. You’ve given us both at least one nickname now. I think we should have one for you, too.”
Hezza chuckled. “Actually, Hezza is a nickname. No one uses my legal name. Not even me.”
“No one? How is that possible?” Kalan asked.
Hezza flicked out the fingers of one hand as if casting something away. “Easy. No one knows what it is. I always introduce myself as Hezza B. and then tell ’em the B stands for bitch.”
“You insult yourself?” Fyr’enth asked in obvious confusion. Kalan felt the same way. Why do that?
“I like to think of it as a warning that it isn’t smart to mess with me. It works too. Most of the time.” She speared another hash brown from her plate and ate it.
Kalan waited until she’d finished chewing to ask his next question. “What is your name?”
She sat quietly for several seconds as if considering her answer, or maybe deciding if she would answer at all. She put her fork down and lifted her gaze to his. “My parents named me Alyssa. My family name is Bratt. Not that I ever knew my family or my parents.”
Kalan held her gaze and waited for her to continue. She knew more about them than they did about her, and he wanted that to change.
With a soft sigh, Hezza picked up the story.
“I was born in an illegal colony, on a planet no one was supposed to be on. It was owned by a corporation called Dynamex. By happenstance, that’s the same corporation that owned Liberty before it was forced to give it to the Vardarians for their new colony. ”
She flashed him a small smile. “Small galaxy, huh?”
“Why didn’t you know your parents?” Fyr’enth asked.
“Because they died before I was old enough to have any real memory of them.” Hezza kept her expression neutral and her voice level.
If he were a normal being, that might have been enough to fool him.
But Kalan was a cyborg, and he saw through her act.
Talking about her past caused her pain. Every micro-expression and element of her body language screamed it, but she told them anyway.
“Have you ever heard the expression that there are two sides to every story?”
They both shook their heads.