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SEVEN

OLIVIA

Aeon appeared at my door the next morning with his usual stoic expression that was becoming frustratingly familiar. I noticed his jaw twitched slightly when our eyes met—a tiny human quirk I had been cataloging in my mental file labeled “Evidence That My Captor Isn’t Just a Machine.”

“Ready for training?” He filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, leaving just enough space that I didn’t feel completely trapped.

“Do I have a choice?” I brushed past him, my shoulder accidentally grazing his chest. The brief contact sent an unwelcome jolt through me. “Still planning to lock me up tonight like a dangerous animal?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Your situation is... complicated.”

“My situation is called kidnapping, Aeon.”

He fell into step beside me, close enough that I could feel his body heat. “The colony needs you.”

“So you keep saying.”

We walked in tense silence as we entered the medical bay and winded through the curved corridors. The lighting adjusted to our presence, warm and responsive rather than harsh and clinical like the hospitals on Earth.

I spent the morning familiarizing myself more with their equipment. Their fetal monitoring system was advanced but configured all wrong for human-cyborg hybrid physiology. I recalibrated it, feeling Aeon’s eyes on me the entire time.

“This ultrasound needs adjustment,” I muttered, my hands flying over the holographic interface. “Your sonic frequencies are set for full cyborg anatomy. The developing fetuses have human cellular structures that could be damaged at these levels.”

A flicker of alarm crossed Aeon’s face. “Can you fix the problem?”

“Already am.” I stepped back to show him the new parameters. “And your nutrient delivery system is pumping too much synthetic protein. The hybrid babies need more calcium and iron. They will have slightly different physiological requirements.”

Something akin to admiration flashed in his eyes. “How do you know all this?”

“It’s my job to know. I’d be a terrible doctor if I couldn’t adapt to new conditions.” I raised an eyebrow. “Even when forced to work under duress.”

His communicator on his wrist chimed, and he frowned at the message. “I have to go. Commander Helix needs me.”

“Go ahead,” I said lightly. “Your senior medical technician and I will manage just fine.”

Laine, who’d been quietly observing from the corner, straightened. “I’ll watch over her.”

Aeon’s gaze lingered on me a beat too long. “All right, thank you.”

After he left, I treated a pregnant cyborg with elevated blood pressure, surprised by my own growing concern for her well-being. When we finished and she was stable, Laine began organizing supplies in the corner of the room.

“I should really find Aeon,” I said casually. “He wanted me to check out the surgical room next.”

Laine hesitated. “I should accompany you.”

“He actually mentioned earlier this morning that it was fine for me to move around the medical bay freely now. Something about my exceptional progress.” I smiled reassuringly, not bothered by the lie.

Her hesitation was palpable, but she nodded. I walked out of the room with deliberate calm and then took my first left instead of right, slipping down a corridor I’d noticed during our daily walks. Within minutes, I was outside, the fresh jungle air hitting my face.

My heart pounded as I navigated the unfamiliar paths, ducking into shadows whenever I heard voices. The colony was larger than I had realized, with sections that felt more like a small city.

Following directional markers, I found myself in a massive hangar bay. My breath caught at the sight of a sleek spacecraft docked at the far end—my potential ticket home. The observation deck overlooking the bay was empty, monitors displaying atmospheric conditions and flight paths.

I crept toward the ship, scanning for guards but finding only automated security. The access panel required a biometric scan, but I spotted a maintenance hatch beneath the ship’s belly. My heart thundered in my chest as I dropped to my knees and shimmied underneath the sleek metal hull.

“Just like the emergency evacuation drills,” I muttered to myself, my fingers locating the maintenance panel. The metal was cool against my skin as I pried it open, revealing a gleaming array of circuits and wires that glowed faintly in the dim light.

My hands trembled as I reached for the bypass connections. Back on Earth, we had practiced emergency overrides during crisis simulations. If I could just cross the auxiliary power with the manual release...

“Come on, come on,” I whispered, sweat beading along my hairline as I carefully separated two fiber-optic cables. “Universal protocols. These ships all have them.”

Just as my fingers touched the main circuit board, a shrill alarm pierced the air. Red lights began flashing throughout the bay, bathing everything in crimson pulses that matched the frantic beating of my heart.

“Damn it!” I scrambled deeper under the ship, abandoning caution for speed.

There had to be an alarm override somewhere.

During med-evac training, they had taught us that every spacecraft had a manual release in case of system failure.

My fingers flew over the components, searching frantically for the right configuration.

“Dr. Parker!” Aeon’s voice boomed through the hangar, reverberating off the metal walls. “Olivia!”

The fury in his voice sent a chill down my spine, but I kept working. Just a few more seconds and?—

“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was closer now, his footsteps echoing across the hangar floor.

“Leaving!” I shouted back, trying to keep my voice steady. “What does it look like?”

I managed to disconnect one more cable before the panel above me suddenly slid open. Aeon’s face appeared, his blue eyes blazing with an intensity that wasn’t entirely anger. Something else was there. Hurt?

“Get out of there. Now.” His voice was low and dangerous.

“Make me.” I reconnected two bypass circuits, causing a small spark that had me pulling back my hand with a hiss.

“You’re going to damage yourself and the ship.” I noticed an edge to his voice I hadn’t heard before. “These aren’t like your Earth vessels.”

“I don’t care.” I reached deeper into the panel. “I’m going home.”

“You can’t fly this ship.”

“Watch me try.”

His expression darkened. “I didn’t want to do this.”

I saw his arm reach toward me, and I twisted away, rolling deeper under the ship. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

“You’re being irrational.” His fingers brushed my ankle, and I kicked out instinctively, hearing his grunt as my foot connected with something solid.

“I’ve been kidnapped!” I yelled, my voice cracking with emotion. “How exactly should I behave?”

He disappeared from view for a second, and I redoubled my efforts on the panel. Then suddenly, the entire ship shifted slightly as he apparently overrode something from an external control.

“Olivia!” His voice held a warning as the maintenance hatch began to slide closed automatically.

I scrambled to squeeze through the narrowing opening, feeling the edge catch on my sleeve.

A sharp tug tore the fabric as I tumbled out onto the hangar floor, right at Aeon’s feet.

Looking up, I found myself staring into the most conflicted expression I had seen on his face.

His jaw was tight with anger, but his eyes held something that looked suspiciously like disappointment.

“You could have been killed under there,” he growled, reaching down to grab my arm.

I jerked away. “Don’t pretend you care!”

Before I could scramble to my feet, his strong arms wrapped around my torso from behind, lifting me off the ground. My legs kicked uselessly in the air as he held me against his chest.

“Let me go!” I thrashed wildly, my elbow connecting with his ribs. He barely flinched. “I am not your prisoner!”

“Stop fighting,” he hissed into my ear, his breath warm against my neck. “You’re only making this worse.”

I twisted in his grip, managing to turn just enough to face him. “Making what worse? My illegal detention on an alien planet? How exactly could that get worse?”

His blue eyes darkened with something I couldn’t quite read. “You tried to steal colony property. That’s a serious offense.”

“Offense?” I laughed bitterly, still struggling against his iron grip. “I was trying to go home after being abducted! By you!”

He clenched his jaw. “We need you here.”

“Well, I don’t want to be needed here!” My voice cracked embarrassingly. “I want to go home!”

His grip shifted, and suddenly I was being lifted completely off the ground, one arm under my knees and the other supporting my back. The indignity of being carried like some wayward child only fueled my anger.

“Put me down right now!” I pounded against his chest.

“So you can run again? No.” His pace never faltered as he strode through the colony. People—both human and cyborg—turned to stare as we passed.

“You can’t keep me locked up against my will. It’s inhumane,” I seethed, my face burning with humiliation.

He looked down at me, his expression softening just a fraction. “You’re injured.”

I looked down and noticed the burning sensation on my palm where the electrical spark had hit me. A thin line of blood also trickled down my forearm from where the maintenance hatch had caught me.

“I don’t need your concern,” I muttered but with less heat than before.

When we reached my secured quarters, he set me down but kept a firm grip on my upper arm. I winced as his fingers brushed the cut.

“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing toward the bed.

“I’m not a dog.”

“Please,” he added, the word sounding strange and stiff coming from him.

I reluctantly sat on the edge of the mattress while he retrieved a medical kit from the bathroom. The cut wasn’t deep, but it stung as he cleaned it with an antiseptic that smelled like mint and something alien.

“Your hands are shaking.” His observation wasn’t accusatory, just matter-of-fact.

“Adrenaline,” I replied curtly, refusing to meet his eyes. “Common human response to traumatic situations. Like kidnapping.”

He ignored the barb, gently applying a clear gel to the burn on my palm. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

I snorted. “Comfortable? In my prison?”

“It’s not—” He paused, seemingly struggling with his words. “We don’t want to treat you like a prisoner.”

“Yet here we are.” I pulled my newly bandaged hand away from his touch. “You dragged me back to my locked room after I tried to escape. What would you call it?”

His shoulders tensed. “Necessary caution.”

Looking at him, I could see the conflict written across his features—the rigid set of his shoulders at odds with the gentle way he had tended my injuries.

He wasn’t the unfeeling machine I had initially assumed.

Something was undeniably human in his expressions, in his touch, and in the way his eyes lingered on me with what seemed like genuine concern.

It was utterly confusing. And infuriating. And... something else I wasn’t ready to name.

“Why do you care if I’m comfortable?” I asked, genuinely curious despite myself.

His eyes met mine. “Because you’re not just a resource to us. To me.”

“Then what am I to you, Aeon?”

The question hung between us, neither of us quite ready for whatever answer might follow.