Page 5

“Trial and error,” I explained, watching the sunlight catch in her hair, turning her brown waves to burnt copper. Something tightened in my chest. “We brought seeds and genetic samples back from one of our recent secret missions to Earth.”

She straightened, and I realized I had been staring. Looking away quickly, I directed her toward an open pavilion where several colonists engaged in various activities.

“Community space?” she asked.

“Yes. We found that scheduled recreation and social interaction improve overall colony function and mental health.” I paused, suddenly self-conscious about how clinical that sounded. “We like to hang out together,” I added, the colloquialism feeling strange on my tongue.

She let out a small laugh—a genuine sound that caught me off guard with its warmth. “You can take the programming out of the cyborg, but not the cyborg out of the programming?”

It was a joke, I realized. She was teasing me. The realization sent an unexpected wave of pleasure through me.

“I’m working on it... Olivia.”

Her name felt intimate somehow, and I watched her reaction carefully. She didn’t correct me or pull away. Instead, she nodded slightly.

“That’s a start... Aeon.”

My name in her voice did something strange to my pulse.

I paused, trying to analyze this new sensation—the way my heartbeat accelerated and my skin felt suddenly warmer.

Before I could make sense of it, Commander Helix appeared at the edge of the pavilion, her pregnant silhouette unmistakable even from this distance.

Two council members flanked her sides like sentinels, their faces etched with the same grave concern I had seen in our emergency meetings.

“Wait here a moment,” I told Olivia, noticing how her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I won’t be long.”

I crossed the pavilion with purposeful strides, keenly aware of her gaze following me. Commander Helix’s hand rested protectively over her swollen belly as I approached.

“Progress report,” she demanded, her voice low but urgent. The golden afternoon light caught the faint scar running along her jawline—a battle memento. “Has the doctor agreed to help us?”

“Not explicitly,” I admitted. The council members exchanged worried glances, but I held up my hand. “I’ve explained our situation. She knows why she’s here and why we had to bring her this way.”

“And?” Councilor Mira pressed. “Time isn’t a luxury we have, Aeon. I’m thirty-six weeks along myself, and after what happened to Lyra...” Her voice cracked slightly.

The memory of Lyra—hemorrhaging beyond my ability to stop, her infant struggling for breath that never fully came—hit me like a punch in the ribs. I squared my shoulders.

“I’m handling it,” I said, my tone leaving no room for debate. “Forcing her into action before she’s acclimated will only result in more resistance. She needs to see us as people first.”

Commander Helix studied my face with an intensity that made me wonder if she saw more than I intended to show.

“You sound... invested in her comfort,” she observed, one eyebrow arching slightly.

“I’m invested in our success,” I countered, though something uncomfortable twisted within me at the half-truth. “The doctor is brilliantly skilled but stubborn. She needs to choose to help us.”

“She was chosen for her skills, not her willingness,” Councilor Dayton muttered.

I turned to him, feeling a flash of something protective surge through me. “She’s a person, not a medical toolkit we can simply deploy at our mercy. Give me some time to gain her trust.”

Commander Helix’s expression softened slightly. “Fine, Aeon. But I’ll need daily progress reports.”

They moved away, and I returned to Olivia, who stood examining an ornamental plant with feigned fascination.

Her body language told me everything—her shoulders tense, and her weight balanced slightly forward on the balls of her feet.

Ready to run if the opportunity presented itself.

The thought sent a pang through me that I couldn’t immediately identify.

“Top-secret cyborg business?” she quipped, her green eyes flashing with defiance.

“Something like that,” I replied, fighting an unexpected urge to smile at her sarcasm.

We continued walking, and I found myself watching her reactions to our colony, her professional curiosity battling with her personal resentment. Despite everything, she noticed details: our irrigation system, the solar arrays, and the playground where children played.

“You have children already,” she observed, surprise coloring her tone.

“A few. All born on the journey here. Those births went well, but Planet Alpha has...” I hesitated, searching for the right words. “The atmosphere has certain elements that seem to affect pregnancy in ways we hadn’t anticipated.”

Before she could respond, a sharp cry cut through the air. Across the path, a heavily pregnant cyborg woman doubled over, clutching her abdomen. Without hesitation, Olivia darted toward her, her medical instincts overriding everything else.

Suddenly, an unexplainable feeling fluttered in my chest. The only thought that came to my mind was: Maybe this solution will actually work .