Page 4 of Her Cyborg Commander (The Drift: Haven Colony #9)

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Leaving the council room after the meeting took longer than she’d expected. Everyone wanted a chance to wish her good luck and thank her for all she’d done while she’d been part of the council. The only one who didn’t approach her was Edge. He had left mere seconds after the meeting was adjourned, which was probably for the best. The two of them couldn’t seem to be in the same space for more than a few minutes without things getting heated between them. It had been that way since they’d come to Haven, and at times she missed the way it had been before they’d come here.

River tried to push the thought aside, but it lingered even after she said her final good-byes and headed home.

Before . Her time at Reamus had been a never-ending nightmare, but she and Edge had managed to survive, in part, by leaning on each other. He had protected her as best he could, and she had been the only one who could reach him when he fell into his darkest and most dangerous moods. He’d kept the other males away from her because he knew her programming made it impossible for her to deny any request for sex. He’d done what he could to keep the guards away from all the cyborg females, too. Not that any of them dared to touch River. They knew she was the personal project of one of the head researchers and kept their distance.

A shiver danced down her spine and left her feeling cold despite the afternoon sunshine. She tried not to think about him . The man who had rewritten her entire personality and made her into someone else. Someone she didn’t recognize. Even before they’d come to Haven, she’d worked hard to undo the behavior modifications and programming that was forced on her. She would never be who she’d been before the changes, but she wasn’t that person, either. She was someone new, and that would have to be enough.

A message came through one of her internal channels. She didn’t feel like talking, but she checked the sender’s ID in case it was important. It was Phaedra, and the message was brief, not needing an answer.

“If you need anything, let me know. Change is a wonderful thing, but it’s also scary as hell. I’m here if you want to talk or just eat chocolate mousse and hide from a certain grumpy cyborg we both know. By the way, he came back after you left. I think he wanted to say good-bye and good luck to you. That male needs a swift kick in the thrusters…but we both knew that already. Anyway, I wanted you to know he was looking for you. Do with that information what you will.”

River snorted softly. The last person she wanted to deal with right now was Edge. He’d been an important part of her life once, but that time was over. They weren’t imprisoned any longer, and she wasn’t the same person. Their friendship, if that’s what it was, had been a product of their situation. There’d never been anything romantic about their bond, despite her secret wish that he saw her as something more than a victim to be protected. He never had, and given the way he’d spoken to her today, he never would.

Just one more thing she needed to put firmly in her past. Tomorrow was a new day, the first one in her life where she’d be free to do whatever she wanted.

Instead of walking straight home, River opted to take a stroll through the city. She wanted to see for herself how everyone was dealing with the bombshell news that they’d been infiltrated by the Shadows. Everyone at the meeting had reported their observations, but she’d been focused on setting up the system and then scanning the cyborgs to clear them from any suspicion. Her part in that was done for now, another task she could let the others finish. Even if it would be hard for her to relinquish the chance to check herself for corrupted code, or anything else that might indicate she’d been compromised. Again.

The first thing she noticed on her walk were the empty sidewalks. It was a warm, clear afternoon, but there weren’t as many beings out and about as there should be. Shopkeepers stood at their doorways, chatting to each other as they waited for customers. Some of the food vendors appeared to have packed up early, leaving street corners empty.

The citizens of Haven were persevering, but she could sense the unease that permeated every part of the city. Everyone seemed to be staying close to home, and those few beings she saw walked with brisk purpose, as if it wasn’t safe to be outside.

They couldn’t continue this way. As much as it pained her to admit it, Edge was right. They needed to do more than simply wait for the next blow to fall. The fact she could actually think of going on the offensive without a sense of dread told her how much of her old self she’d recovered since being freed. She’d never again be the fearless soldier the corporations had originally programmed her to be, but she no longer lived with constant anxiety, either. It felt like she had finally found the balance point between the two states.

Her stroll took her past the space port. Unlike the rest of the city, the port was still a hub of activity. Cargo shuttles came and went, transferring goods between the surface and orbital platform where most trade vessels were required to offload. For security reasons, only a few of the smaller vessels were permitted to land at the port directly. Their captains were all carefully vetted and their crews had to undergo medical scans before being allowed to leave their ships.

Another lesson the colony had learned the hard way after a visiting ship had brought a common virus with them and infected nearly all the Vardarians.

River stopped near the fence to watch for a while. Like every other cyborg on the planet, she was not permitted to leave, though the council had pushed that restriction to allow them access to the orbital station and the shipyards now operating in orbit around Liberty. She’d taken several trips to the platform in the past year as part of her leadership duties. If her plans worked out, she’d be making many more.

She had recently applied for flight training, and her acceptance letter had come only a few days ago. As preparation for the application, she’d accompanied one of the pilots on their daily flights to the platform. Thrash had been a surprisingly patient teacher, and his encouragement had helped her decide to try for a career as a pilot.

She had other options, too, but none of them offered the sense of freedom that came with flying. Up there, she was only responsible for herself. After giving up so much of herself to help others, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more.

The sun was low in the sky by the time she returned home. She lived near the bridge that spanned the Sterling River. From her kitchen window she could see the water swirling by, and she’d even had a swing built so she could sit out on her deck and take in the view. Tomorrow morning, she intended to start a new tradition and have her breakfast outside so she could enjoy the morning light on the water.

Instead of a proper meal, she indulged herself with a double-thick chocolate milkshake. On a whim, she sent an image of the decadent beverage to Skye with the message, “Here’s proof that I’m taking care of myself.”

Skye replied, “Where’s the whipped cream?”

“Good question,” River said aloud as she returned to the food dispenser and requested the addition, with a dollop of chocolate sauce for good measure.

“Oversight corrected,” she sent back to Skye.

Drink in hand, she went upstairs to continue her night of indulgence with a hot bath. “Sissy, run the bathwater at my usual temperature and add some bubble bath. Raspberry this time.”

She’d named the household AI system Sissy. After all she and the others had been through, it didn’t feel right to treat anything with a voice like it was an unfeeling tool, even if that’s what it actually was .

The scent of raspberries reached her before she even made it to the top of the stairs. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Another breath, and the tension in her shoulders eased. This was her space, a place no one else had ever been, not even her friends. In the early months, it was the only place she felt truly safe. Later, it had become a sanctuary of a different kind, a private place where she could reflect and recover from the past.

Milkshake still in hand, she toed off her shoes and let her bare feet sink into the thick rugs that covered most of the floor. Brightly colored, the vivid patterns should have clashed with each other but somehow didn’t. The rugs had been one of the first things she’d bought for herself—a declaration of independence and a rebellion against the dreary backdrop of industrial gray and black she’d been surrounded by for most of her life.

This space was different. The walls were a buttery yellow, though that was hard to see through the collection of paintings and sketches that covered most of them. Some were little more than rough outlines, but others were complete works. More canvases sat on the floor or leaned against any available surface, and several of them had been torn or broken as if slashed or struck.

When one of her counselors had suggested art as a way to process her feelings, she was certain they hadn’t intended for her to destroy the works as part of her process. It worked for her, though.

River sipped at her milkshake as she moved to stand in front of her most recent work. After a moment, she reached out to brush her fingers over the faces captured on the canvas. One by one, she recited their names. Torrent. Pulse. Quake. Ebony. Slate. Her batch-siblings. They had all died in the Resource Wars, but she still missed them. Capturing their likeness helped her hold on to their memories in a way that revisiting her data files couldn’t.

This painting showed seven figures, but only those five had faces. The other two… She took a deep quaff of her drink, but the whipped cream and sugar couldn’t cover the bitter taste that filled her mouth. The other two figures were also her batch-siblings, but she’d never been able to complete a painting that captured all of them together on one canvas. Hunter and Chase had survived the wars, but they were as lost to her as the others. Every memory she had of them was tainted by the knowledge of what they’d done.

They’d been freed together and made plans to find a place they could live in peace. It was all they wanted, and despite her anger, she hoped they’d manage to find it for themselves. When the squad of masked and armored mercenaries had burst through the door of their room, she’d been the only one home. In the fight that ensued, she’d managed to send her brothers a message warning them not to come home.

They’d responded with promises that they’d find her and get her back. That they wouldn’t leave her alone… but they had. She’d never heard from them again. They hadn’t come for her. She would have known if they’d tried. She was sure of that. They’d given up on finding her and left her to suffer. She could never forgive them for that.

“No,” she said the word aloud. “Tonight isn’t about the past. It’s about the future. My future.”

She raised the drink in a toast to herself and took another sip. “Sissy, play some music, please. Something from my relaxation list.”

“Files acquired. Playing now.”

The opening notes of a Vardarian opera score filled the air. It was one of her favorite pieces and always put her in a good mood.

Then the music abruptly ended as a voice out of her nightmares spoke. “Hello, Petal.”

The milkshake she’d been enjoying fell from nerveless fingers, the chilled concoction splashing over her bare feet. It matched the sudden wash of icy black fear that crashed over her, leaving her screaming soundlessly in denial of what she heard.

The voice— his voice—continued speaking. “I’ve missed you so much. If I could have taken you with me, I would have. I never wanted to leave you alone. I tried… but you know that. You were there at the end. You know I didn’t want to go without you, but they wouldn’t allow it. You saw them force me away. It wasn’t my fault, Petal. I need you to understand that. They did this to us.”

She fought back the gut-tearing panic to reclaim some semblance of awareness. Reality returned to her in jagged flashes. She was alone. The bastard wasn’t here. But he knew where she was. Panic threatened to overwhelm her again at the thought. He’d found her.

No. No. No. How?

“I have good news, though, Petal. The ones that made me leave you aren’t in charge anymore. There’s a new order now, and they are very interested in my research. I’ve told them all about you. They want to meet you and see for themselves how wonderful you are. You and I will be together again. Soon, Petal. I promise.”

The music came back, but she didn’t hear it. All she heard were his last words repeating over and over inside her head. “Together again. Soon.”

She came back to herself with a throat-tearing scream, her fists beating against the sodden rug beneath her. She kneeled in the remains of her milkshake, her legs parted and head bowed in a posture of subservience that had once been part of her daily existence. She’d sworn she would never kneel like that again, but here she was. All it took was the sound of his voice to reactivate the programming she’d fought so hard to break free of.

Tears of anger poured down her cheeks as she stood, shaking with emotions she couldn’t name. The need to vomit was almost too strong to ignore. Memories of the last time she’d seen him flooded her mind, taking her back to Reamus Station. He’d ordered her to come with him, and she’d been too weak to fight the compulsion to obey.

The guards were there, stun batons out as they tried to force the other cyborgs into cryo-pods. Edge had been there, fighting with the others. They’d killed as many as they could, somehow sensing this was their chance. In her memory, the coppery tang of blood and screams of pain surrounded her, but she didn’t hesitate. She had to follow him. Her master. Doctor Troyan Jens.

Beyond the prison area was a different kind of chaos. Beings jostled each other through tightly packed corridors. She caught fragments of conversations as Jens wove his way through the crowd.

The station was compromised.

Everyone needed to evacuate.

Take nothing with you. No room.

The part of her still free of Jens’ control tried to make sense of things. The cryo-pods. They must be trying to take at least some of their creations with them. But Edge, Striker, and the others were resisting. Did that mean they’d be left behind? What would happen to them?

Angry voices sounded ahead of her. Dr. Jens shouted at someone, “She comes with me!”

“No, sir. My orders are clear. No unrestrained cyborgs may to be brought on board. If she’s not in a cryo-pod, she’s not coming.”

“She is restrained! She obeys me without question! Petal is the result of years of experimentation, and my work cannot continue without her.”

She’d watched as Jens had argued, his pitch and volume rising as his gestures grew wilder with each of the guard’s refusals.

He’d shrieked in protest when two more guards dragged him aboard one of the ships. As he vanished, she’d felt a tiny kernel of hope kindle in her breast. She had no idea what would happen in the next few hours, but nothing could be as bad as what she had already endured. At the worst, she’d die. But at least she’d die free.

“I will never go back,” River whispered as she wiped the tears from her cheeks with angry swipes of her fingers. “I’m not your Petal anymore. My name is River.”

The declaration clarified things for her, and she felt an unexpected sense of calm. “My name is River,” she said again, louder this time.

Then she smiled. It was brittle and raw, but it was still a smile. “And I’m not going to be here when you come for me. I won’t endanger my home or my friends. Not this time.”

With that said, she turned toward the closet and the stash of supplies she’d placed there in the days after she’d learned about the code that could have turned her against everyone she cared about. She’d hoped this day would never come, but she’d prepared for it anyway.

Whatever future she’d hoped to find in Haven, it wasn’t going to happen.

It was time to go.