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Zephyr-Eleven years old

I couldn’t sleep. Again.

The room had night lights but they were too bright.

And without them the room was too dark. I had a sound machine that mimicked Atavarian birds and night insects, but it wasn’t the same.

My cyber implants itched and I suspected that I would need my first round of plate replacements soon.

After tossing and turning for a little while longer, I finally got out of bed and decided to get a snack.

I rarely had an appetite these days so when I was hungry, my uncle had encouraged me to eat.

It had been a year since my mother died in a terrorist attack.

I’d been badly injured and in a coma for two months after.

When I woke up, I was blind in one eye, missing half my right arm and had a right hip replacement unit.

My stepfather was there at first, assuring me that I had the best of care, that I was safe.

But he wouldn’t let Kier, my half-brother see me, it was too dangerous.

“Officially, you died in the explosion,” my stepfather said, and I knew that only I could really detect the grief in his face, his voice.

“I…I apologize but I had to lie in order to protect you. You will remain here, and require extensive medical interventions. I have authorized cybernetics to compensate for your missing arm and eye, but I wanted to wait until you were awake to consider the implications of such a decision and give your consent.”

I stared at him, as best I could anyway. I spoke Atavarian and Terran Basic fluently; whichever he was using, though, it was muddled to my ears. Absently, I’d reached up to check and make sure I had both my ears, trying to use a hand that no longer existed.

When I saw the bandaged stump, it all suddenly became real and I burst out screaming and crying.

Gav sat on my bed and let me lean into him and sob.

He was full blooded Atavarian, and as such, emotions were complicated issues for him.

But loving and losing my mother had softened some of those edges.

The huge alien who was more my real father than a mere step one, rubbed my back and let me soak his shirt front with tears and snot.

He was unfazed when I finally quieted and handed me a glass of water. I’d grown up knowing that I had to temper and mask my feelings, even though I’d never truly fit in here. So it was a relatively easy thing to calm down as I sipped the water.

“What are the cybernetic implants the doctors are considering?” I asked, shoulders back, voice calm.

A flash of pride came over Gav’s face and my chest warmed to see it. He didn’t have to accept me as his own, but he had from the beginning without hesitation. I would love him forever for that.

He went over everything with me. The benefits and drawbacks, the discrimination I would face on Earth - after the procedures, I would be a Cyborg and no longer considered Human. I listened, doing my best to consider and think this through.

I’d only been ten, yet when I woke in that room, missing parts of myself and my mother dead, it had felt as if I’d aged another 10 years.

I understood why my stepfather had felt the need to declare me dead, to keep me from Kier.

I’d always known it was dangerous for us on Atavar, I just never thought…

And now, a year later, I was on Earth, living with an uncle I’d never met until three months ago when I was finally able to travel the distance from Atavar to here. Mother had rarely spoken of her family, only telling me that Uncle Randall was a hero and worked for the Galactic Union of Planets.

When I came here, I was surprised at how much he looked like mom.

The same dark skin, the same smile and broad nose.

My lighter color skin and eyes were from my biological father, who I had never known.

But I knew that I had my mother’s frame and her facial features.

Or I had until I’d needed reconstruction surgery to support the cyber unit in my face.

Uncle Randall’s house was a beautiful two story vintage ranch style in the New Arizona desert.

He had horses, a huge pool, shooting range, vintage three wheelers and motorcycles and a staff of dozens to help keep everything in top shape.

When I’d first arrived, he’d let me have the run of the place, with the exception of his office.

It was on the ground floor, tucked far off to the back of the house.

In a home that had a very open floor plan and floor to ceiling windows on all four sides, his office was the only room in the house that had the blinds drawn at all times and the door locked.

The one time I’d tried to peek inside from the lone window, he’d drawn a set of curtains across the blinds.

Every question I asked about his work was met with a non-specific answer, and I swore that half of the staff followed me around the first week I was here.

He left after I’d been here a month on a ‘business’ trip and I hadn’t’ seen him since. But as I made my way down the stairs, I heard voices, one of them my uncle’s distinct, rough rumble. I glanced around the main room, which included a sunken living room and a room with a pool table and bar.

No one was around, and since I couldn’t see a light on in the kitchen to my right, or the dining room to the left, the back porch was also dark and the voices were definitely inside, I could guess that they were in the mysterious office.

Uncle Randall’s lead stableman, an older man by the name of Paul, had been teaching me how to sneak around so I could help him track critters that got into the stables and into the different storage areas.

I’d gotten quite good at moving so that no one heard me and I decided to practice those skills in the house.

I crept across the gleaming black marble floors, down the hallway to the office.

The door was open a crack, and warm light spilled out.

I was careful to mind my breathing, even though I was ecstatic that I might actually get to see what was in this room.

I stood with my back to the wall, next to the door, and closed my eyes so that my ears would be the primary sense.

My feet were flat to the floor, and though I doubted I’d feel any vibrations to tell me someone was coming, I still wanted the point of contact just in case.

“Any trouble with the item?” Uncle Randall asked.

“No sir,” replied a voice that sounded around my age.

“Good. Store it like I told you and then get on that transport. I expect to hear from Lawrence that you made it to the station by tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anything else?”

There was a pause and the voice coming through what I assumed was a long range coms tablet sounded hesitant and definitely young when they started speaking again.

“Are you going to train her?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“I was just wondering…I mean, if you were, could I watch the lessons? I’d like to advance quicker and without you here, I’m afraid my training will stall.”

My uncle let out a long breath and a chair squeaked as I assumed he sat back in it.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said. “In the meantime, go through the lessons I sent you, finish and send them on.”

“Yes, sir.”

The voices stopped and I wondered who the kid was, where did they live? And why were they talking to my uncle like they worked together? Was that kid the reason my uncle had left so soon after I got here?

And irrational spike of jealousy hit me and I ground my teeth together.

“You can come in now,” Uncle Randall said.

My stomach dropped, knowing he was talking about me. There was no one else out here after all.

Slowly, I peeled myself off the wall and walked into his office.

There was thick, soft carpet on the floor, and soundproofed paneling on the walls in a gray shade.

Overhead was a large ceiling fan but it was off and the light came from a lamp near his desk, which was a large, plain piece of furniture made out of some kind of dark wood.

There were three different monitors on the walls, two panels that might’ve been hand identification units, and a heavy-looking door to the left and all the way to the back.

Two black chairs, stuffed and comfy looking, sat facing the desk, a fireplace behind them.

My uncle, his shaved head shining in the low light, large body hunched over his desk a bit, sat there assessing me as I walked in.

“I…I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you thought you’d sneak around and eavesdrop.”

I opened my mouth and snapped it shut under his hard, scrutinizing gaze. My body became hot and itchy the longer he stared at me, and I shifted from foot to foot.

Finally, Uncle Randall sighed and sat back in his chair.

“Do you know what I do?” he asked.

“No.”

He paused, still looking at me like he was weighing my worthiness.

So I stood taller, folding my hands behind me as I had been in the habit of doing on Atavar.

It was so easy to slip back into that blank faced, straight backed persona.

And when I did, Uncle Randall’s eyebrows winged up and a slow smile spread across his face.

I didn’t know exactly what I’d done right, but the thrill of pleasing him was warm and welcome in my blood.

“Sit down,” he said.

I did, keeping my posture straight as I perched on the edge of one of the comfy chairs.

“I work for the GIB, in a little known corner of the agency called The Disavowed. I run…teams of people all over the galaxy. People who don’t fit in, who have no future and no prospects.”

“Are some of them children?”