Page 20 of Human Reform (Cyborg Planet Alpha #3)
TWENTY
DAXON
I stared at the file on my desk and Dr. Alora Bridges smiled back at me from her identification photo. Something felt deeply wrong, like trying to recall a dream that slipped away with sunrise. The last four hours were a blur, fragmentary images that refused to connect in my mind.
“CyberEvolution neural systems programmer,” I read aloud, my finger tracing her credentials. “Top in her field.”
What I couldn’t understand was how I’d gone from selecting her as our solution to the neural glitches to… what she claimed had happened between us. Sex? Probably in my quarters? The notion was preposterous. I’d never invited a woman there, and I’d definitely never been intimate with one.
Yet…
When I looked at her photograph, something stirred within me. Not recognition exactly, but… longing? Impossible. I didn’t do longing. I didn’t do feelings. I had a colony to protect and systems to maintain.
I ran my hand over my face, trying to dislodge the persistent fog in my mind. Why couldn’t I remember implementing that patch or why I did it? The timeline made no sense. My memory felt like a corrupted file, sections missing or overwritten.
“Having fun with your light reading?”
Sage’s voice startled me from my thoughts. She approached my workstation with that trademark smirk, her ponytail swinging with each deliberate step.
“Just familiarizing myself with our guest,” I replied, closing the file.
Sage leaned against my desk. “Well, I’ve got news. Dr. Bridges has found a different way to patch our neural frameworks. Fix the glitches for good.”
My spine straightened. “That’s excellent. When can we implement it?”
“Now, actually.” Sage’s expression was unreadable. “But we need your help. Colony safety critical mission. You’re the only one who can do it.”
“Of course.” The answer was automatic. Duty before all else. “Whatever the colony needs.”
Something flickered in Sage’s eyes—satisfaction mixed with… guilt? I dismissed the thought. I was imagining strange things these past four hours.
“Great. Follow me to central processing.”
I fell into step beside her, my mind already mapping out implementation protocols and system redundancies. This was my purpose—logical, straightforward, and uncluttered by emotion.
When we arrived at central processing, Sage approached the security team monitoring the hub.
“We’ve got a breach on the perimeter,” she announced. “Sector seven. Need you all to check it out.”
Kel groaned. “Another false alarm?”
“Would I interrupt your thrilling day if it wasn’t important?” Sage shot back.
I frowned. “I didn’t receive any perimeter alerts.”
“Just came through on my wrist communicator,” Sage murmured, not meeting my eyes.
Something wasn’t adding up, but before I could analyze further, the security team filed out, grumbling.
When the last one left, Dr. Bridges entered, somehow more vibrant and more stunning than when I saw her here four hours ago.
Her eyes locked on to mine, and my heart rate inexplicably accelerated.
Sage locked the door behind her.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
“Extra security,” Sage said smoothly. “For the new patch implementation.”
I studied her face, looking for deception. Finding none I could identify, I nodded once and allowed her to guide me to the chair before the main console.
Dr. Bridges approached cautiously, as if I might bolt. Up close, I noticed the silver flecks in her gray eyes and how her white T-shirt hugged curves that felt oddly familiar to my hands.
“Sit down, Daxon,” she said, her voice controlled but with an undercurrent of something raw. “This won’t take long.”
I complied, watching as she extracted a portable drive from her pocket, her hands trembling slightly. Was she nervous about her new patch working? Why did I have the overwhelming urge to comfort her?
“Are you certain this will eliminate the glitches?” I asked.
Her eyes met mine, and I felt a jolt of… something. Something I couldn’t name.
“It’ll fix what’s broken,” she said softly. “I promise.”
As she leaned over me to access the console, her scent washed over me—lavender and something distinctly her. My body reacted instantly, desire pooling low in my abdomen.
“Just relax,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. “Trust me, Daxon.”
And strangely, inexplicably, I did.
The screen of the main console prompted for confirmation to proceed with my neural framework alteration. Dr. Bridges hesitated for just a heartbeat and then pressed YES.
“Neural framework modification commencing,” stated the system’s voice. “Subject must remain stationary for complete integration. Shutdown imminent.”
My vision started to blur. I placed my hands on the armrests of the chair, feeling strangely calm. This was necessary—for the colony, for everyone’s safety. My duty had always been clear.
“Estimated time: twenty minutes.”
The darkness closed in around me. My last conscious thought was a hope that Dr. Bridges’ new patch would ensure the protection and survival of me and all the cyborgs here on Planet Alpha.
When I woke up, the world swam back into focus gradually, like emerging from deep water. I felt… odd. Fuzzy, like my thoughts were wrapped in cotton.
Alora stood over me, her expression a complicated mix of worry, fear, and hope.
I knew her name. I knew she was here to fix the neural framework glitches affecting me and the other cyborgs.
I remembered visiting her in the medical bay, and her setting up in her private office here in the security center.
But there were gaps—strange blank spots where memories should be.
Her eyes searched mine with eagerness. “Daxon? How do you feel?”
I took inventory of myself. “Functional. Slightly disoriented.” Something pulled me toward her—not a memory exactly, but an instinct, like gravity. My body seemed to know something my mind couldn’t access at the moment.
“Do you… recognize me?” Her voice trembled slightly.
“Dr. Alora Bridges. Neural programmer.” I paused, feeling like I was missing something important. “Did the new patch work?”
Relief flickered across her face but disappointment, too. “It seems promising.”
Sage stood nearby, her usual sarcastic demeanor softened by what looked like genuine relief. “Welcome back to the land of the living, boss.”
I stood, swaying slightly. Alora’s hand shot out to steady me, her fingers wrapping around my forearm. The contact sent a jolt through my system—familiar and exciting at once.
“You should eat something,” Sage said. “Food will help ground you. We’ve all been through a lot today.”
“That’s…logical,” I agreed, though I wasn’t hungry. Something in me wanted to stay near Alora and to understand this pull I felt toward her.
We left the security center and stepped onto the stone pathways of the colony. The two suns were setting, painting the sky in stripes of orange and violet. Colony members moved around us, heading home or toward the marketplace. Some nodded at me. A few looked surprised.
“You’re smiling,” Alora pointed out. “You don’t usually do that in public.”
“I wasn’t aware I was.” But I could feel it—the upward curve of my mouth. It felt right somehow.
The marketplace buzzed with evening activity. Vendors arranged their wares as colonists browsed stalls filled with synthesized proteins, fresh vegetables from the gardens, and handcrafted items. The air carried the scent of cooking food and jungle blooms.
Sage led us to Nexus’s stall, where the lean cyborg greeted us with raised eyebrows.
“Look who decided to join the land of emotions again,” Nexus said to me with a grin.
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
Sage elbowed him. “Ignore him. Three protein wraps, please. One mild for our delicate human.”
We took our food to a small table overlooking the edge of the settlement. The jungle stretched beyond, darkening as night fell. The first stars appeared overhead.
“So,” Sage said between bites, “remember that time you broke Tegan’s nose during training?”
I nodded. “Last year. He left his right side unprotected.”
She smirked. “And remember yesterday when you got a bloody nose defending him?”
This time, I couldn’t recall. “I don’t…”
“What about the night market?” Alora asked softly. “We came here for dinner two days ago.”
“Yeah, you told me later that you liked the sandwich,” Sage added. “Said it was the best thing you’d tasted.”
Fragments surfaced—sitting across from Alora, watching her smile as she took her first bite. The way her eyes had lit up.
“I remember… parts,” I admitted. “It’s like looking through fogged glass.”
Under the table, Alora’s knee brushed mine. An electric current surged through me, and suddenly another memory flashed—her body beneath mine, skin against skin, her gray eyes darkened with desire.
My breath caught and my eyes locked on to Alora’s. “We were… close? Right?”
“You could say that,” Alora replied softly, holding my eyes with a look that suggested we were much more than just colleagues.