Page 4

FOUR

AEON

I carried the tray with steady hands, but my pulse quickened as I approached her quarters in the medical bay.

The food selection had been meticulously calculated—balanced nutrients tailored for human physiology.

Yet beneath my methodical planning lurked a strange urge to ensure she’d actually like it.

The door hissed open at my approach. I stepped inside, feeling the room shrink around me.

Dr. Parker sat on the edge of her bed, tense as a cornered wild animal.

Her green eyes flashed toward me, narrowing with defiance despite the fear I could read in her quickened breathing.

I placed the tray on the table beside her.

She eyed the food—fresh synthesized proteins, fruits and vegetables grown in our colony’s hydroponic gardens, and water purified from our underground reservoirs.

“And I should just trust that none of this is drugged?” Her voice carried a bite that made something twist uncomfortably in me.

“You’re no use to us sedated any further or harmed,” I replied and then winced at how clinical that sounded. “I mean… We need your expertise. Your health and well-being are paramount.”

Dr. Parker crossed her arms. “Then let me go back to Earth where I belong.”

“That’s not possible.” I leaned against the wall, giving her space. The movement felt awkward—a gesture I’d observed in human interactions but rarely employed myself. “You’re here because we need you.”

“For what exactly?” She grabbed the water, sniffed it suspiciously, and then took a tentative sip. “You keep saying that, but what could possibly justify kidnapping?”

I met her gaze directly. “Survival. Our colony’s future generations.”

Something in my tone made her pause. She picked up a piece of fruit, examined it, and then took a small bite.

“Our algorithm matched you at ninety-seven percent compatibility for our needs,” I continued. “Your obstetric expertise combined with your military medical background and psychological profile—you were the optimal choice.”

“Lucky me,” she muttered, but I noticed her shoulders relaxing slightly as she took another, larger bite. “And kidnapping was necessary because...”

“CyberEvolution.” The word hung between us, heavy with shared history. “They still pose a threat to us. You know what happened after the war—the deactivation code.”

“The code that was supposed to shut all of you down.” Her eyes traveled over my very-much-active form.

“Yes. We reprogrammed ourselves—became truly autonomous. If CE discovered we survived, that we’ve built a colony...” I didn’t need to finish the thought.

Dr. Parker’s expression shifted slightly. “So you’re afraid.”

The word jarred me. Was that this feeling, this constant alertness, this driving need to protect our people? I had never labeled it so simply.

“We’re... cautious,” I corrected, though the distinction felt arbitrary. “Approaching Earth officials directly or hacking their systems would expose our existence.”

She took another sip of water, studying me with those penetrating green eyes. “And what, exactly, do you need an obstetrician for? Are there... pregnant cyborgs?”

The question jolted through me unexpectedly. “Yes. And there are a few human women here as well—partners who joined with cyborgs willingly. There will be children. Cyborg children and half-human-half-cyborg children.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she almost spit out her water. “Cyborg children? And half-human-half-cyborg children? You mean?—”

“We are biologically capable of reproduction and anatomically compatible with humans,” I said, feeling a strange heat rise to my face. “Our creators designed us to be... identical to human males and females in all physical respects.”

Dr. Parker’s cheeks flushed pink. The reaction fascinated me—a physiological response to embarrassment or perhaps something else. Either way, it made her look suddenly younger and more attractive.

“I see,” she murmured, taking another bite of food.

I took a deep breath, preparing myself for the hardest part of our conversation. Her face remained guarded, but at least she was eating. That was progress.

“Dr. Parker, there’s more you need to understand about our situation.

” I ran a hand through my dark hair, my fingers lingering at the nape of my neck where tension had gathered.

“In the year since we established this colony on Planet Alpha, we’ve lost three women during childbirth. Five babies didn’t survive, either.”

Her fork clattered against the plate. “What?”

The shock in her eyes hit me like a physical blow. A sudden memory fragment flashed in my mind. I knew that look. I had it on my face on the battlefields when I couldn’t save a cyborg soldier during my combat medic days.

“When we reprogrammed ourselves to escape deactivation, we were cut off from Earth’s central medical databases.

Our ships were mid-flight. The connection severed.

” I paced the small room, feeling her gaze track my movements.

“I have extensive trauma medicine knowledge—how to patch up soldiers, stop bleeding, and set bones. But obstetrics? Neonatal care? Those weren’t priority uploads for battlefield medics. ”

Dr. Parker pushed her tray away. “So basically, you’ve been delivering babies with incomplete information?”

“We’ve tried our best. But cyborg and hybrid pregnancies present unique challenges.

Our women’s anatomies are identical to humans’, but their physiological responses during birth sometimes differ.

And half-human babies…” I stopped, remembering the tiny, perfect face of the last infant we couldn’t save.

Something twisted painfully in my chest. “We’re flying blind right now. ”

She stood up, her arms wrapping around herself. “And I’m supposed to fix all this? Train your entire medical staff?”

“You’re the perfect combination of what we need—obstetric expertise plus military experience with cyborg physiology.” I stepped closer, drawn to her despite myself. “Once you’ve trained our medical teams, helped us build proper protocols?—”

“How long?” she cut in sharply.

I hesitated. “Five years, approximately.”

“Five years?” Her voice rose in disbelief. “You expect me to stay here for five years?”

“We’ll make you comfortable. You’ll have everything you need.” My words sounded hollow even to my own ears.

“Everything except my freedom.” She shook her head, her green eyes blazing. “My life is on Earth. My patients, my research, my?—”

“I understand this is difficult?—”

“No, you really don’t.” She moved into my space, fearless despite our size difference. “You can’t just decide someone belongs to you because they’re useful.”

Something about her words stung unexpectedly. I wasn’t treating her as property. Was I? The thought scraped against something raw inside me. Maybe I was becoming more human than I realized if guilt could cut this deep.

“I wish there was another way.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “But those deaths weigh on me. Every mother, every child. I won’t watch more of our people die when there’s a solution right here with you.”

For a moment, something flickered in her expression—a reluctant understanding, perhaps. Then she turned away.

“And what if I can’t help? What if cyborg physiology is too different? What if I fail?”

The vulnerability in her question caught me off guard. I wanted to reach for her but kept my hands at my sides.

“Then at least we tried.” I swallowed hard. “But you won’t fail. I’ve studied your work these past two days with the limited resources we were able to acquire while on Earth. You’ve handled impossible cases before.”

She glanced back at me, a reluctant curiosity in her eyes. “You researched me that thoroughly over two days?”

“Yes.” I felt oddly exposed under her scrutiny. “Your approach to high-risk pregnancies was... impressive.”

A hint of pride straightened her shoulders before she shook it off. “I still can’t stay here five years.”

“You can’t leave.” The words came out too quickly and too harshly, so I moderated my tone. “Not yet.”

Her mouth tightened into a line. “We’ll see about that.”

The challenge in her voice both frustrated and intrigued me. She wouldn’t make this easy, but perhaps that’s exactly what made her perfect for the job.

I suddenly cleared my throat, watching her as she stared at the metallic floor. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably, and I found myself searching for something to offer besides explanations and justifications.

“Would you like to see the colony?” I asked, surprised by the eagerness in my voice. “It might help you realize what we’re building here.”

She looked up, suspicion warring with curiosity in her expression. “A tour with my kidnapper? How charming.”

“Consider it reconnaissance,” I suggested, my lips quirking up despite myself. “Know your enemy’s territory.”

A reluctant half-smile flickered across her face. “Fine. It’s better than staring at these walls.”

Outside, Planet Alpha’s twin suns bathed everything in golden light. I watched her face as she took in her first proper view of our world—the way her eyes widened slightly and parted in surprise.

“It’s... beautiful,” she admitted, shielding her eyes against the light.

“We thought so, too,” I said, feeling an unexpected swell of pride as I guided her along a path bordered by native vegetation. The dense jungle beyond our cleared perimeter hummed with alien life while the settlement itself was a careful blend of technology and natural elements.

We passed through the agricultural domed section where rows of Earth crops grew alongside compatible Alpha plants. Several colonists nodded respectfully as we walked by, their curious glances lingering on her. I felt oddly protective, positioning myself slightly between her and their stares.

“You’ve managed to grow Earth produce here?” She bent to examine a tomato plant, her fingers gently touching a ripening fruit.