Page 14 of The Lone Cyborg
Dinner was simple, but it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. He had no real need for food to sustain his body, but that didn’t change his enjoyment of the meal. They ate in companionable silence, the quiet broken only by the clink of spoons against ceramic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared a meal with someone like this, in the easy intimacy of a shared space.
After they finished, Mattie poured two cups of hot tea from a battered metal pot. She handed one to him, her fingers brushing his as he took it from her and he shuddered as another wave of desire swept over him.
“Tell me about yourself,” she said, settling back in her chair and eyeing him over the rim of her mug. “I hardly know anything about you.”
He hesitated, uncertain where to begin. His life before becoming a cyborg felt like a distant dream, hazy and half-forgotten, and his life since then wasn’t anything he cared to dwell on. But how could he refuse to answer her after the intimacy they’d shared?
“I was a soldier,” he said at last. “A captain in the Earth Government military forces. When you sign up for the militaryyou agree that if you are fatally wounded they can use your body, that they can transform you into a cyborg. I never thought it would happen to me but I didn’t object. Helping to make Mars a safe place for human colonization seemed like a worthy purpose.”
He stared down into his tea, watching the steam curl upward.
“I didn’t realize what the process would entail. You’re not supposed to remember it, but I do.”
Remembered screaming on the table as he realized what was happening. Remembered the fiery heat of the nanites invading his system and the blaze of agony as they worked to fix his broken body.
She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. “I’m so sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult.”
Her touch was warm and comforting, and he felt something crack open inside his chest, a well of emotion he’d kept buried for so long.
“Jeb,” he said quietly. “My name was Jebediah Reed. But everyone called me Jeb.”
Mattie’s eyes widened slightly.
“Jeb,” she repeated, as if testing the sound of it on her tongue. “It suits you.”
Hearing his name in her voice, seeing the soft smile on her lips as she said it—it felt like a revelation. Like a part of himself he’d thought long dead was suddenly reawakening.
In that moment, J-418 wanted nothing more than to be Jeb again. Not a cyborg soldier or a frontier lawman, but a man. Aman who could build a life with Mattie, who could give her the love and companionship she deserved.
But even as the longing filled him, he knew it was an impossible dream. He was no longer fully human, and there was no going back to the man he’d once been.
No matter how much he might wish otherwise, the gulf between them was simply too wide to cross.
She was still studying from across the table, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotion. Then she rose from her chair, the scrape of wood against the metal floor startling in the heavy silence. She walked over to the wall and dimmed the lights to a soft glow although his enhanced vision meant he could still see clearly. Then she came back to stand before him, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body. Slowly, as if approaching a skittish animal, she extended her hand.
“It’s late,” she said softly. “Time for bed, Jeb.”
He stared at her outstretched hand, his heart pounding a furious rhythm against his ribs despite his nanites trying to restore the usual even beat. He knew he should refuse, should maintain the careful distance between them. But looking up into her face, seeing the tenderness and invitation in her eyes, he found his resolve crumbling.
Almost of its own accord, his hand lifted to take hers. Her fingers curled around his, her grip strong and sure, and it took him a moment to realize that he’d extended his cybernetic hand and she hadn’t hesitated to take it. With a gentle tug, she urged him to his feet.
She guided him towards the shelter’s tiny sleeping alcove, to the cozy nest he’d studied earlier, still holding fast to his hand, then stopped to look up at him.
“There’s only one bed.”
He opened his mouth to assure her that he didn’t need to sleep, but she kept going.
“But we can share it tonight. If you want.”
His breath caught in his throat. He wanted this, wanted her, with an intensity that shook him to his core. But the rational part of his brain screamed that it was a mistake, that he would only end up hurting them both.
He opened his mouth, poised to voice his protest, but she smiled up at him, her eyes luminous in the dimness, and drew him down onto the narrow bed. She urged him back against the wall, then settled against him with a contented sigh. As he automatically put his arms around her and held her close, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have this, to have her, always.
She fell asleep in his arms, her body nestled against his. He listened to her gentle breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. A peace he hadn’t known for a very long time washed over him.
He held her tight, watching as the storm raged outside, and he vowed to himself that he would never let go.
No matter what happened.
