“Really, Allora, is that what you feel when you look at him? Only the need to take, to assert your power over him?”
He shook her head, tears welling in her eyes. “I am not a Cyborg.”
“Dearest sister, do you even know what a Cyborg is? We have been around since well before the earth stopped turning. Anyone with a pacemaker or hearing aid used technology to enhance his way of life. This colony is made up of scientists, who used our technological know-how to better our lives. Look around you, Allora. What do you see?”
Despite herself she looked through the open doors, out at the utopia beyond. A real civilization, people not at the mercy of the weather, with art and culture far more advanced than any she had ever seen before. And I have their memories.
“The Borns are afraid of us, Allora, not because of what we do, but because of who we are and what we represent. Control over our lives, the ability to heal the sick and injured, to level the playing field so that those born to power would be no more important than the Bred who picks through the trash for scraps.” He glanced down at Cormack.
“They created the Bred to seek us out and destroy us so we would never be able to undo what they did.
The wars saw the death of many of our kind, people who were not trained for battle the way your soldier has been. A senseless waste of life on both sides by those who would keep you all under their thumbs.”
She shuddered as a new wave of memories broke over her, Cyborgs lined up on a field of battle, dying one by one. A small child, a boy watched the slaughter as Breds took them out efficiently and then returned to their masters for more abuse. He stayed hidden from view and collected their memory chips to add to the collective.
Cassandra knelt down beside her. “What did you see?”
Haltingly, Allora relayed the vision, stroking Cormack’s cheek to ground herself as much as reassure him.
Vitrolith grunted, and as Allora watched, disgust showed on his face. “They created the Bred to be guard dogs as well as slaves, cutting them down in their prime, neutering them with those packets. They could be our greatest allies, have the most to gain with reunification and instead they react with violence whenever they see us.”
“Neutering? Breds are infertile by design.”
Vitrolith crouched down so their eyes were level.
“Can you see the double standards here, Allora? The way they use technology as they see fit, for draining, for engineering a whole new race of people and feeding them nutrients which will keep them strong but not allowing them to spawn of their own accord.
There is plenty of water and warmth down here but above people still die of thirst, from exposure. Basic economics of supply and demand, those who have what is rare, hold all the cards. And because of their innate hatred of us, we have not been able to explain it to them.”
“But Cormack didn’t know I was one of you, he never attacked me.”
“You are new, Allora, a new generation of us. Your enhancements are all internal. Though you don’t know it, your senses are as acute as a Bred’s, genetically compatible in every way. The only difference, you were born instead of created.”
“Even now, sister, there are programs inside your head, ready to be used to make you stronger, faster, able to heal more quickly. All you need to do is access them.” Cassandra grinned at her. “Do you have my journal? I would like to add it to my archives.”
Hands shaking, Allora dug inside her armor for it.
She didn’t even glance at it as she handed the book over. Cormack groaned, and she muttered nonsense designed to soothe him even as she withdrew. “He will never accept what I am.”
“He already has.” Cassandra held the journal in front of her face. She scanned the words, hope fluttering low in her stomach.
Cormack loves you, Allora, never give up on him.
“Let’s take him somewhere where he can rest more comfortably.” Vitrolith suggested. “He’ll be less likely to hear us out if he awakens with a crick in his neck.” A quick motion with his hand and Rothguard stepped forward but Allora waved him off.
“I’ll do it.”
They backed off and taking in a deep breath for fortitude, Allora bent and heft Cormack over her shoulder in one smooth motion. She blinked unable to believe she had actually been able to do it. Meeting Vitrolith’s—her father’s—gaze he nodded once. “Show me where.”
The room they led her to had an actual door that Rothguard opened. Allora placed her unconscious Bred down on the mattress, rolling her shoulders though there was no muscle strain. Lush green growing things covered the wall and she breathed in the sweetly scented air. “Tell me why I was sent away from here.”
Cassandra had followed them inside. “You needed to follow the path destiny laid out for you. Everything happens for a reason Allora, by design.”
“Your design? Or your predecessor’s?”
Cassandra hopped up on the railing overlooking the lavish garden beneath. “Neither. She saw more of the grand design than most, but she was not its architect.”
Allora nodded, thinking it over. “Now here I am, and Cormack too, because without me there to find the book, another supervisor would have taken it from him and he would have been recycled. So what, we were your cosmic delivery service?”
Vitrolith shook his head. “You are so much more than that, Allora. You are the first to successfully join two of our three factions, the Cyborgs and the born.”
Frowning she gestured to him and Cassandra.
“What about the two of you?”
He grinned at her, opened the leather vest covering his torso so she could see the thick tubes bubbling with a purple viscous fluid that matched the color of his eyes. “Chronic kidney and liver failure. I was enhanced at birth, not born with enhancements.”
“And I’m a clone of the original Cassandra’s DNA, with a few tweaks to make me…sturdier.”
“So I’m a freak of nature, that’s what you’re telling me?”
“No, you’re a step toward what we all need to become. Unifying the Born, the Cyborg…” His gaze wandered to the bed, “And the Bred.”
“You have to feed him, to eat food yourself. No more of those nutri packets for either of you. We need your baby as evidence that the Bred can procreate.
Only with living proof will they believe us.”
She needed to sit down. Luckily a large armchair waited nearby. Her heart thundered against her ribcage. “A baby? You want my baby?” It sounded like some twisted fairytale gone amuck.
“His baby.” Vitrolith nodded to Cormack. “Even then there will be some who resist, but we will face that challenge when we come to it.”
Allora didn’t know what to think. “This is too much, these memories eating at me and all this pressure. You can’t expect me to just—”
Cassandra placed her small hand over Allora’s mouth. “All we expect is for you to live here, with him, in peace. You belong together.”
Tears filled her eyes. “If only it were so simple.”
“It can be, if you accept it.” She glanced to where Cormack stirred in his sleep. “But you better hurry because if you can’t accept it, he never will.”
20
The smell of roasting meat woke Cormack from his bizarre dream. The foreign softness beneath him made him sit upright in a hurry, scrambling for the recollection of what had brought him here.
“You’re awake.”
He turned his head and caught sight of her sitting in a mammoth chair that seemed ten times too big for her. She had curled her feet up beneath herself and though her position appeared relaxed, he could practically see the tension radiating from her.
Cyborg. The whisper in his mind brought back the earlier scene, Allora crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. The girl that had touched him, shared things with his mind that had overloaded his brain, visions of war and death, even those that had not yet happened. Though the room’s temperature was warm, the memories chilled him to his marrow.