Page 31

TWENTY-NINE

OLIVIA

I squeezed Aeon’s hand so tightly, my knuckles turned white as we stood in the clearing.

The moonlight bathed us all in silvery light—Aeon, me, Commander Helix, and the forty colonists backing us.

Naomi’s face was tight with suspicion and doubt, the four CE operatives flanking her with hands hovering near their neural disruptors.

The sleek hull of their ship loomed behind them like a shark waiting to strike.

The tension in the clearing was thick enough to cut. Naomi’s eyes darted between me and Aeon, lingering on our joined hands.

“Naomi,” I called out suddenly, stepping forward. “You need to listen to me.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Olivia, are you speaking under duress? Blink twice if?—”

“Oh, for god’s sake,” I snapped, letting go of Aeon’s hand and marching toward her. I felt his hesitation, but he didn’t stop me. “I’m not being coerced.”

I yanked my datapad from my makeshift medical bag I’d grabbed during our rush from Aeon’s quarters. My fingers trembled slightly—the culmination of weeks of work, life-and-death documentation that would determine the fate of an entire colony.

“Look at this yourself,” I thrust the datapad into her hands. “You’re an obstetrician, too. Tell me what you see.”

Naomi’s professional curiosity overcame her suspicion.

She swiped through my files, her expression shifting from skepticism to recognition.

The data didn’t lie—detailed charts on maternal health, fetal development patterns unique to cyborg pregnancies, and delivery protocols I’d developed specifically for their physiology.

“Before I came here, three women and five babies died within a year,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ve already delivered three healthy infants. Three families who wouldn’t exist without this knowledge.” I gestured toward the colony behind me. “They need me, Naomi.”

“You were abducted,” she countered, but her voice lacked its earlier conviction.

“Yes,” I admitted. “And that was wrong.” I glanced back at Aeon, whose jaw tightened. “But I’m staying because it’s my choice now.”

One of the CE operatives shifted impatiently. “Dr. West, we have our orders.”

“Your orders would condemn mothers and unborn children to death,” I said, stepping between them and the colony. “Is that what CyberEvolution stands for now? Killing innocent women and children?”

Naomi’s gaze drifted from the datapad to me and then to the colonists behind us—not faceless machines but people with hopes, fears, and families on the way.

“Benjamin knew,” I whispered, invoking my fallen friend’s name. “Before he died, he saw them as people. I was too angry and too hurt by his death to realize it. But I understand now.”

I felt Aeon move closer to me, his warm hand finding my back—a touch that spoke volumes about how far we’d come.

“I’m staying here,” I said with finality. “You can report that I’ve made that choice freely.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the clearing burning into me. The jungle’s humid air clung to me as fireflies danced around us in the twilight. This small city carved from the wilderness had become my home in ways I never expected.

“One more thing, Naomi,” I said, stepping closer, “we took the same oath. Do no harm. Look around you.” I gestured at the colonists. “These aren’t machines. They’re people who laugh, cry, hope, and fear, just like us. People who want to create a future.”

Naomi’s expression remained guarded, her fingers still clutching my datapad.

“Remember what we learned in med school? How the definition of personhood evolved through centuries?” My voice grew stronger.

“The only difference between humans and cyborgs is that humans were born and cyborgs were built. But their children…” I placed my hand over my heart.

“Their children will be born, not built.”

I caught sight of Helix, who nodded approvingly.

“Doesn’t that change everything? Their babies will be the bridge between our worlds—born, not manufactured. If that doesn’t qualify them as deserving of our protection, what does?”

The CE operatives shifted uncomfortably. Good. Let them squirm.

“CyberEvolution has blood on its hands,” I continued, staring directly at the operatives.

“During the war, you treated these people as disposable weapons. You programmed them for loyalty and then betrayed that loyalty when it was convenient. You taught them to kill, and now you want to punish them for wanting freedom?”

I felt Aeon move beside me, his tall frame radiating strength. His hand found mine again, warm and solid. The touch sent electricity flowing through me, fueling my words.

“The war is over,” I declared. “And Planet Alpha deserves autonomy. These people fled to build something better—a place where they could live in peace, raise families, and discover who they are beyond combat algorithms.”

My voice broke slightly, thinking of the pregnant cyborg women I’d treated, the three babies I’d delivered, and the friends I’d made.

“I came here unwillingly,” I admitted, “but I will live here by choice. Because I’ve seen their humanity. I’ve delivered their children. I’ve witnessed their love and sacrifice.”

I stepped forward again, so close that Naomi and I were standing face to face. “Ben always saw it,” I said. “What I was too blind to see—that personhood isn’t determined by origin but by capacity. Capacity to choose. Capacity to love. Capacity to create.”

The fireflies seemed to intensify around us, little beacons in the growing darkness.

“I’m asking you as a doctor, as a friend, as a human being—recognize Planet Alpha’s right to exist. Let them raise their children in peace. Be on the right side of history.”

The clearing fell silent. Naomi’s eyes searched mine, looking for coercion or lies but finding only conviction. The CE operatives remained stoic, but I caught a flicker of uncertainty from one of them.

I waited, my heart pounding erratically in my chest, for what felt like the longest moment of my life.

I watched Naomi’s face as a thousand emotions flickered across it—doubt, sympathy, conflict, and finally, a reluctant acceptance. The moonlight caught the gleam of unshed tears in her eyes as she lowered my datapad.

“Damn it, Liv,” she whispered. “You always were the idealist between us.”

My heart soared as she turned to the CE operatives with newfound authority. “Stand down. That’s an order.”

The operatives exchanged uncertain glances, their hands still hovering over their neural disruptors.

“Dr. West, our directives are clear—” one began.

“And I’m issuing new ones,” Naomi cut him off. “These people have a right to exist. And Dr. Parker is making a choice of her own free will.”

I felt Aeon’s grip on my hand tighten, his thumb brushing against my skin—such a small gesture yet so profoundly human. I glanced up at him, seeing raw emotion in those bright blue eyes that once seemed so impenetrable to me.

The lead operative reluctantly moved his hand from his weapon, and the others followed suit. Aeon stepped forward, his towering frame casting a long shadow in the moonlight. I couldn’t help but admire the way he moved—powerful yet measured, his shoulders squared with newfound confidence.

“We want peace,” he said, his deep voice resonating in the clearing. “Planet Alpha seeks no conflict with Earth. We only wish to build our lives here, to raise our children, and to determine our own destiny.”

His eloquence surprised me. Gone was the clinical precision of his early speech patterns. The man standing beside me spoke from the heart—a heart I’d come to love against all odds.

Commander Helix moved forward, her usual severity softened by cautious optimism. “We propose regular status reports from Dr. Parker to Earth. You’ll receive full documentation on our colony’s progress, our births, and our development—all evidence that we remain peaceful.”

“So long as Earth respects our autonomy,” Aeon added firmly.

Naomi considered this, her medical training clearly at war with her CE loyalties. Finally, she nodded.

“I believe I can arrange that,” she said. “But I want unrestricted communication with Olivia. No interference.”

“Agreed,” Aeon replied without hesitation.

I watched in astonishment as Aeon extended his hand toward Naomi. After a moment’s pause, she took it. Their handshake was brief but monumental—human and cyborg, former enemies, finding a path forward.

Helix stepped forward next, completing the circle with her own handshake. “We will uphold this truce in good faith.”

As they discussed the specifics, I took a moment to absorb what had just happened.

The jungle around us teemed with life—birds calling to each other, insects humming their night songs, and the sweet scent of exotic flowers wafting through the air.

This wild, beautiful planet had become my home, and these people my family.