Cyborg (2 page)

The soldier sitting across from her, Johnson, who’d been fidgeting nervously since his initial outburst, broke into her thoughts at that moment.

“I really hate this shit! This is
wrong
,” he muttered irritably.

“As bad as I hate to agree with Johnson--this feels more than a little off to me, too,” she said under her breath.

Reese slid an assessing glance in her direction and her pulse jumped as his cool blue eyes skated over her.

“Pre-battle nerves,” he said succinctly.

Amaryllis glared at him, but it was a wasted effort. He’d gone back to ignoring her.

“It isn’t pre-battle jitters,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “This feels like a tra….” An explosion, too close for comfort, cut her off. The craft screamed and bucked as if it had hit a wall, shuddering so hard it felt as if it would disintegrate. Amaryllis’

heart slammed into her ribs painfully.

“What the fuck?” Johnson yelped.

“Oh shit!” someone exclaimed.

“Nukes? Are they out of their fucking mind?” Amaryllis exclaimed breathlessly, frantically checking her safety harness.

No one answered, naturally enough, since the question was purely rhetorical. She couldn’t see a damn thing and no one had a clue of whether one of their sister ships had launched the nuke or if the Cyborgs were lobbing nukes at them.

“They’ve thrown up a force field,” the captain announced abruptly, his voice gravelly from the wild jouncing of the ship.

Amaryllis exchanged a look with several of her fellow soldiers. A force field?

The long range robo-probes had indicated a crude settlement only--flimsy huts built from vegetation, timber palisade walls. Where the hell had the force field come from?

When they’d set out, she’d thought four squads of hunters would be overkill, but there seemed little doubt now that they’d flown right into a trap--as she’d feared they would. She just hoped she was going to live long enough to say ‘I told you so’.

“What the hell …?” the navigator exclaimed suddenly.

The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a strange blue light filled the ship. Something crept along her skin like the touch of an invisible being, lifting the fine hairs on her body. Abruptly, the craft dropped like a stone, leaving her stomach miles behind and then slammed into something so hard it jarred every bone and tissue in her body, detonating an explosion of pain. Time seemed almost to stop, as if holding its breath. The deafening noise of shouts, crumpling metal, wind and explosions vanished.

Curiously the pain dissipated almost as instantaneously as it had erupted and a strange sense of detachment enveloped her. Amaryllis watched as the ship began to disintegrate around them, pieces breaking off and becoming deadly shrapnel that peppered everyone in the compartment. Three shards sliced across her legs, arm and belly in quick succession. Across from her, Johnson let out a yelp that ended in a gurgle as the munitions locker careened into him and then collapsed on top of him, crushing him into a twitching mass of blood and meat. The man next to him disappeared out of a hole that appeared in one side of the craft that hardly seemed large enough to swallow him.

Beyond, Amaryllis saw nothing but sky. She stared at it uncomprehendingly, trying to figure out what wasn’t ‘right’ about what her eyes perceived. Why would she see only sky when they’d crashed?

Almost on top of the thought, her stomach clenched, went weightless in freefall.

“Hold on! We’re going to crash!” the pilot yelled.

Amaryllis turned to stare at the back of the man’s head. Going to? They hadn’t already? What had they hit if not the ground?

Something softer than ground, she realized moments later.

She blacked out when the ship slammed into the planet, then bounced and skidded, like a stone being skipped over water. She didn’t think it could have been for more than a few moments, however. She woke to the touch of warm fingers against her cheek. Distantly, she heard a deep, rumbling voice she tentatively identified as belonging to Reese, although it sounded oddly rough, urgent with concern. “Amy?”

She frowned. No one had ever called her that but her family. Maybe she’d imagined it? Maybe she was dead and just hadn’t figured it out yet? With an effort, she lifted her eyelids. Reese’s face swam into view. For once his cool blue eyes didn’t seem to see through her. In fact, she thought she saw a good deal of concern, but maybe that was her imagination, too, because it vanished almost instantly, replaced by a purposeful look. “We’ll be overrun in about five seconds. Can you fight, soldier?” he asked sharply.Amaryllis grunted, but responded automatically to the sharp command and began struggling to get to her feet. Once she’d gained them, she looked around a little dazedly at the others in the group that were trying to form up. Reese shoved a weapon into her hand. She gripped it, reassured by the weight, wondering if it would still function.

Staggering drunkenly as she picked her way through the wreckage, she followed Reese and the others who’d managed to collect themselves and were pouring out of a rip in the hull to meet their enemy.

The first sounds of battle reached her before she managed to struggle out of the wrecked craft. She could see very little to begin with beyond Reese’s broad back. He glanced back at her. “Stay behind me.”

A jolt of surprise went through her at the command. She finally decided, however, that he meant watch his back. Collecting herself with an effort, she checked her weapon and stepped to one side of him. Dazed as she was, she saw almost immediately that they didn’t have a chance in hell. Reese was one of only a handful of the squad that seemed virtually unscathed. The rest, like her, were battered, disoriented, or already too injured to fight, and they had stepped into a melee. There was no chance of forming up, of presenting an orderly counterattack. The cyborgs, outnumbering them two to one, waded through them as effortlessly as if they’d been no more than children.

Placing her back to her partner, Amaryllis gritted her teeth and brought her weapon up. She didn’t have the chance to discover if the weapon was still functioning.

She hadn’t even managed to aim when a cyborg struck her arm so hard she lost her grip on the weapon. His next blow was to her chin and her knees buckled.

Blackness swarmed around her again. Dimly, she realized that Reese was standing over her, struggling with three cyborgs, who’d piled on him and were bearing him to the ground.

It wasn’t Reese who hauled her to her feet. The grip on her was enough to assure her that it wasn’t any of her comrades.

Within a handful of minutes, the battle was lost. The cyborgs surrounded them, relieved them of their weapons and marched them off to a holding area.

Amaryllis was still focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and locking her knees to keep from falling when an explosion nearby announced the arrival of another of their ships. A wave of energy seemed to go through the hunters. Abruptly, the battle was engaged once more as her squad fought their captors in a forlorn effort to reach the other squad on the field.

They didn’t make any appreciable headway. Within moments, their second effort was beat down and they were half dragged, half led to a clearing set aside for captives.

Amaryllis collapsed almost with a sense of relief, too shocked by the crash and their defeat even to feel fear. Mutely, she stared at Reese as he knelt beside her and examined her injuries, which consisted of perhaps a score of gashes on her legs, arms, torso, back and head, none of which seemed particularly life threatening. As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his head and stared at her a long moment.

He was disheveled. The long, ash blond hair generally contained in a queue at the base of his skull fluttered around his square jaw and across his finely chiseled nose and lips.

Regret made Amaryllis’ belly clench and she realized for the first time that, contrary to all logic, she felt far more than mere lust for this beautiful man. It would hurt her to her soul to witness his death, to see the light dim in his eyes, to see his great, strong body defiled by violence. She hoped they killed her first. She didn’t think she could bear looking on as they destroyed him.

The look in his pale blue eyes as he stared back at her sent her heart tripping over itself. Almost as if he suddenly realized he’d betrayed more than he’d intended, a shuttered look fell over his features. He shifted away from her. “The wounds look to be superficial … though they should be treated. How’s your head?”

She lifted her hand to her throbbing head, realizing only then that, like Reese, she’d lost her helmet. “Feels like hell, but I guess I’ll live. Next time, I’ll try to remember to fasten the chin strap before we crash.”

He smiled grimly and settled on the ground beside her. Amaryllis was tempted to pursue the conversation. As conversations went, this was one of the longest they’d had to date and the most ‘personal’. Moreover, she was curious as to whether she’d imagined the significance of the way he’d looked at her.

Not that it mattered now, she supposed, but it would’ve been a comfort to know he cared on more than a professional level.

She found, though, that as soon as her adrenaline had ceased pumping through her blood, she’d begun to feel mildly queasy. She wasn’t certain if that was due to the knots on her skull or merely the aftermath of shock, but she decided after a few moments that she wasn’t really up to attempting to draw Reese out.

In any case, before anything could come to mind, one of the cyborgs guarding them detached himself from the group and addressed the captured hunters.

“You are captives of the cyborg nation. Resistance is futile and will only lead to your death.” He paused for several moments. “But you are our brothers--you are as we are--and, in time, when you have come to accept this and understand the crimes against all of us by the humans who created us, you will be given the opportunity to join us and help us to build our own world, our own nation, as free beings.”

Stunned, Amaryllis glanced at Reese, wondering if she’d heard correctly.

“Brothers? What does he mean by that?”

Reese’s expression was grim, but she wasn’t certain if that was an indication that she actually
had
heard the cyborg correctly or if it was a reaction to the implication that the cyborgs had every intention of taking their captives with them.

The voices of the other hunters around them joined hers, creating an ominous rumble as they digested the remarks, questioned them, angrily refuted them.

“You mean to brain wash us?” someone shouted above the din of voices.

“We mean to enlighten you!” the cyborg shouted back. “And before you dismiss it, consider this--Why would they send humans against cyborgs when we were designed to be stronger and faster than any natural born human? Logically, they would not. No human could hope to be victorious against beings designed to be physically and mentally superior to them. Why is it that not one among you has a single, living relative--no parents, no brothers, no sisters, no aunts, uncles--no one? The creators gave you your memories. They are not your own. These memories were programmed into you at the time of your creation to prevent the problems that arose among those of us created without a past, with full knowledge of what and who we are.”

Amaryllis was on the point of flatly vetoing the suggestion when she noticed that an uncomfortable, thoughtful silence had fallen among her comrades. A sense, almost of drowning, swept over her as she looked around at the other hunters as if seeing them for the first time and finally turned to look at Reese.

She couldn’t say that she knew any of them on a very personal level, but of those she did know well enough to have learned something of their background the cyborg’s comments struck uncomfortably close to home. She couldn’t recall a single one of them that had family. She supposed she’d assumed that that was one of the preferences for their line of work--that all of them were orphans, loners, with no one to distract them from their job, no ties that might interfere at a critical moment.

A coldness followed the sensation of drowning. There was one among them that certainly did not fit that profile, who not only had a wealth of living relatives, but who also had endured a childhood so horrendous not even a mad scientist would consider it mentally healthful to instill such memories.

Her.

Reese had no living relatives. The two of them hardly exchanged more conversation than was necessary to complete their missions, but Amaryllis had been curious enough about him to do a background check.

It hadn’t occurred to her to question his humanity.

She’d always thought he had an almost uncanny control in the face of situations that made even seasoned soldiers flinch, but she’d also admired that cool head under fire, the ability, whatever the situation, to think, and act accordingly. She’d only seen him in action a few times, but she’d admired him from afar long before he’d been assigned as her partner.

She would’ve been lying to say she didn’t think it was a shame the attraction wasn’t mutual, but she’d also been relieved at the same time that he was so unaware of her that there was no chance anything could ever get ugly. If it had been entirely left up to her to keep things professional, she wasn’t confident she could’ve managed it, despite the company prohibition, despite her training, despite the drugs they were issued that were supposed to counteract their natural libido and keep their mind on business.

Regardless, she’d considered his coolness pure training--and a lack of interest in her in particular. He wasn’t emotionless. He simply had a better than typical control over the weaknesses that beset other soldiers that weren’t as good as he was.

The suspicion had teased at her that he’d become oddly protective of her since they’d begun working together. As many times as she’d assured herself that it was under orders, no more than insurance by The Company to protect their investment, she’d toyed with the notion that, maybe, he wasn’t as indifferent to her as she’d at first supposed.