“We’ll make you comfortable. You’ll have everything you need.” My words sounded hollow even to my own ears.
“Everything except my freedom.” She shook her head, her green eyes blazing. “My life is on Earth. My patients, my research, my?—”
“I understand this is difficult?—”
“No, you really don’t.” She moved into my space, fearless despite our size difference. “You can’t just decide someone belongs to you because they’re useful.”
Something about her words stung unexpectedly. I wasn’t treating her as property. Was I? The thought scraped against something raw inside me. Maybe I was becoming more human than I realized if guilt could cut this deep.
“I wish there was another way.” My voice came out rougher than intended. “But those deaths weigh on me. Every mother, every child. I won’t watch more of our people die when there’s a solution right here with you.”
For a moment, something flickered in her expression—a reluctant understanding, perhaps. Then she turned away.
“And what if I can’t help? What if cyborg physiology is too different? What if I fail?”
The vulnerability in her question caught me off guard. I wanted to reach for her but kept my hands at my sides.
“Then at least we tried.” I swallowed hard. “But you won’t fail. I’ve studied your work these past two days with the limited resources we were able to acquire while on Earth. You’ve handled impossible cases before.”
She glanced back at me, a reluctant curiosity in her eyes. “You researched me that thoroughly over two days?”
“Yes.” I felt oddly exposed under her scrutiny. “Your approach to high-risk pregnancies was... impressive.”
A hint of pride straightened her shoulders before she shook it off. “I still can’t stay here five years.”
“You can’t leave.” The words came out too quickly and too harshly, so I moderated my tone. “Not yet.”
Her mouth tightened into a line. “We’ll see about that.”
The challenge in her voice both frustrated and intrigued me. She wouldn’t make this easy, but perhaps that’s exactly what made her perfect for the job.
I suddenly cleared my throat, watching her as she stared at the metallic floor. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably, and I found myself searching for something to offer besides explanations and justifications.
“Would you like to see the colony?” I asked, surprised by the eagerness in my voice. “It might help you realize what we’re building here.”
She looked up, suspicion warring with curiosity in her expression. “A tour with my kidnapper? How charming.”
“Consider it reconnaissance,” I suggested, my lips quirking up despite myself. “Know your enemy’s territory.”
A reluctant half-smile flickered across her face. “Fine. It’s better than staring at these walls.”
Outside, Planet Alpha’s twin suns bathed everything in golden light. I watched her face as she took in her first proper view of our world—the way her eyes widened slightly and parted in surprise.
“It’s... beautiful,” she admitted, shielding her eyes against the light.
“We thought so, too,” I said, feeling an unexpected swell of pride as I guided her along a path bordered by native vegetation. The dense jungle beyond our cleared perimeter hummed with alien life while the settlement itself was a careful blend of technology and natural elements.
We passed through the agricultural domed section where rows of Earth crops grew alongside compatible Alpha plants. Several colonists nodded respectfully as we walked by, their curious glances lingering on her. I felt oddly protective, positioning myself slightly between her and their stares.
“You’ve managed to grow Earth produce here?” She bent to examine a tomato plant, her fingers gently touching a ripening fruit.
“Trial and error,” I explained, watching the sunlight catch in her hair, turning her brown waves to burnt copper. Something tightened in my chest. “We brought seeds and genetic samples back from one of our recent secret missions to Earth.”
She straightened, and I realized I had been staring. Looking away quickly, I directed her toward an open pavilion where several colonists engaged in various activities.
“Community space?” she asked.
“Yes. We found that scheduled recreation and social interaction improve overall colony function and mental health.” I paused, suddenly self-conscious about how clinical that sounded. “We like to hang out together,” I added, the colloquialism feeling strange on my tongue.
