If.
How could Earth and Planet Alpha coexist if the truth was revealed? CyberEvolution wouldn’t likely allow a colony of reprogrammed, independent cyborgs to flourish. They’d probably see it as a threat, a precedent that could inspire others. They’d probably send ships and soldiers. Destruction.
I turned and glanced at Aeon’s sleeping face. He couldn’t leave with me. His people needed him here. If I returned to Earth, I’d have to walk away from whatever was growing between us.
My chest tightened at that thought. When had he become more than my captor? When did I start feeling protective of this entire colony?
“Your thoughts are too loud,” Aeon murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes opened, instantly alert in that way that still startled me. His fingers traced along my bare arm, raising goosebumps. “Something’s troubling you.”
I turned in his arms and tucked myself closer against him, savoring his warmth. “Just thinking about Earth.”
His body tensed slightly. “You miss it.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “I do. But I’m also worried what would happen to everyone here if Earth discovers this place.”
His hand settled at the back of my neck, his thumb tracing small circles. “We always knew discovery was a possibility. We prepared for it.”
“You can’t fight Earth, Aeon.”
“And you can’t stay a captive forever.” His eyes held mine, intense and searching. “I know that.”
The words hung between him and me, heavy with implications neither of us was ready to face yet.
He kissed my forehead and then sat up, the sheet gathering around his waist. The scars across his chest and shoulders caught the pink-purple light. Battle wounds from a war he hadn’t chosen to fight.
“The medical staff will be waiting,” he said, his voice shifting to that slightly more formal tone he used when discussing colony business. “We should continue your lesson from yesterday.”
“Back to work already?” I managed a small smile, grateful for the change of subject.
His mouth quirked up at one corner. “The pregnant women won’t wait for us to figure out... whatever this is between us.” He extended his hand to help me up. “Come on, Doctor. Show me more of your human medicine.”
I placed my hand in his, trying not to think about how perfectly it fit there.
The medical bay pulsed with activity that morning, filled with five pregnant cyborg women at varying stages and a team of eager cyborg trainees. I adjusted my patient’s position on the examination table, guiding her hand to her rounded belly.
“That fluttering sensation? That’s your baby moving. Perfectly normal at twenty weeks,” I explained.
The woman—Lumi—gazed at me with awestruck eyes. “It feels strange. But... good strange.”
“It’s one of the most beautiful parts of pregnancy,” I said, smiling despite myself. “Just wait until you can see little feet pressing against your skin.”
Throughout the day, my hands moved from belly to belly, my voice rising and falling as I guided the trainees through various examinations. Aeon stood nearby, his broad shoulders creating a protective barrier between us and the door, ever-watchful yet increasingly involved. He passed me equipment before I could ask and anticipated my movements so well it felt like we’d worked together for years.
“Her blood pressure is a bit elevated,” he murmured as I examined Petra, his sixth sense for medical details showing itself.
I nodded. “Good catch. Petra, I’d like you to rest more frequently during the day.”
Between patients, Aeon’s hand occasionally brushed against mine, the contact brief but electric. Each time, he’d lock eyes with me for just a moment longer than necessary, a silent reminder of last night.
By afternoon, I was teaching a small group how to monitor fetal heart tones. Looking around at their focused expressions—these beings supposedly built for war now dedicated to creating life—I felt a surprising rush of pride.
“You’re amazing with them,” Laine whispered as we reviewed charts. “They trust you.”
“They shouldn’t, considering I’m human,” I replied automatically, but the words felt hollow.
As sunset approached, I sat with Nora, who was closest to delivery. Her eyes glimmered with anxiety as I checked her measurements.
“What if I can’t do it right?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I’m not... programmed for motherhood?”
