Chapter 27 Elanie
Dawn crept in through the windows, a dim red light stirring me from sleep.
Sem snored softly beside me, his arm slung low over my hips while Grover sprawled out on his back.
When I reached out to pet Grover’s belly, he rattled a purr, clacked his beak, then curled up into a ball with his tail tucked tightly around his strange, fuzzy body.
Sem looked so peaceful, stretched out long and lean and naked. As I trailed my fingers over the fine silver hair that dusted his arm, something heavy and tight gripped my stomach, twisting it into a knot.
I wasn’t sure when it had happened, maybe dancing with him last night, maybe huddling with him in the cave, maybe even watching him sing that Macey Valentine song to me at karaoke on the ship.
But at some point, I’d stopped feeling like a half-artificial being.
I’d stopped feeling like I was someone else’s property, like my entire existence was as inconsequential as a single mote of spacedust. I was circuits and wires, programming and subroutines, but I was flesh and blood too, skin and bone, heart and soul.
And even though I didn’t know when this had happened, I did know why.
It was him. This man snoring in our bed. This man who made me feel important and seen and understood. Who made me feel like I mattered.
But as the light in the hut shifted from red to amber, I couldn’t help but wonder if I mattered enough.
Sem and I still didn’t know very much about Thura, and I needed more information.
If I was to have any luck in convincing him to stay here with me, I needed data.
Because he was still thinking about the ship.
He was still thinking about leaving. And as much as I’d miss my friends, I wasn’t. I’d made up my mind.
I wasn’t sure how he felt about me. I wasn’t sure if this, whatever was happening between us, would be enough of a reason to keep him here. I wasn’t sure that I was enough of a reason to keep him here. All I knew was that when I asked him last night if I really had him, he didn’t give me an answer.
I had to find something about Thura that would give him a reason to trust this place. Something that would make him realize we could be happy here. Happier than we’d ever been on the ship.
Leaning over carefully, not wanting to wake him, definitely not wanting to wake Grover, I kissed his shoulder. Then a sound outside our hut snagged my attention: footsteps, whirring and mechanical.
I jolted upright.
That was it. Mal. Mal had been here since the beginning. He would know things about Thura. And out of every other bionic here, he might actually be willing to talk to me about them.
I slid Sem’s arm from my waist and kissed his shoulder one more time, then I put my pants back on and crept out of the hut.
“Mal,” I whispered, hurrying down the steps.
He stopped and turned around. “Hello, Elanie,” he said brightly. “Can I do anything for you? Do you need food? Drink?” His yellow eyes slid down to my still naked chest. “Clean clothes?”
It was early, the common area was empty aside from a few passed-out Thurans, and the warm morning breeze brushing over my skin felt so good that I decided I didn’t want a shirt.
Maybe I’d never wear a shirt again. “I don’t need anything, Mal.
I just heard you walking by our hut and wondered what you were doing up so early. ”
His shoulders rose and fell, yellow lights flashing as he blinked. “I do not sleep well. Sometimes I like to walk.”
“Can I walk with you?”
“Yes.” His titanium brows shot up. “Yes, I would like that very much.”
The air was sweet with the scent of flowers, and the sky above the terradome was crystal clear. Over our heads, stars that were finally becoming familiar began to fade as the sun approached the horizon.
“How long have you lived in Thura?” I asked while we started down the path.
“I was summoned here thirty-two years ago,” Mal said. “We had been working on an asteroid mining vessel, excavating helium, and then we were here.”
“Really?” I didn’t know much about gen-1s, since that information had been classified for centuries.
I only knew that they’d been Imperion’s secret military force before later generation bionics became available for public purchase.
The notion that they were still being used to mine helium as recently as thirty years ago was as much of a shock as that time Morgath showed up to work dressed in black leather chaps and a dog collar because he’d overslept and had to “walk of shame” himself to the staff meeting.
“There were five of us at first,” Mal said. “I am the only one left.”
“Five gen-1s?”
“Yes. We all arrived together in a single pod. There were only sixteen bionics here at that time, aside from Gol. There was much work to be done, and we were very busy.”
I stopped walking to ask, “You’re still busy, though, aren’t you?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. “It is nothing like it was. Back then we had to build all the huts, make all the clothes, erect the terradome.” He made a high-pitched whistling sound.
“I do not like to think about that. We failed many times. Gol was very angry. Everything is better now. And you are here.” He grinned, rising up on his toes. “You and Dr. Semson are very nice.”
When we started walking again, his joints clicked with each step like his hydraulics needed to be serviced.
“What happened to the other four gen-1s?” I asked.
“One by one they broke down, malfunctioned.” His chin sank to his chest. “Until they were all decommissioned.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”
“It was a very dark time.” He closed his eyes for a long blink. “They were my brothers and sisters, and I miss them very much.”
“Brothers and sisters?” I turned to him.
He nodded, then lowered his voice like what he was about to tell me was a secret.
“First-generation bionics were commissioned in groups of twenty, all with the same genetic code and programming. Identical siblings.” He leaned in close so he could whisper, “The programmers thought it would save them money.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course they did.”
“It did not work the way they wanted, though. They did not like the camaraderie that developed between bionic families. We formed our own bonds. We formed communities. The programmers did not like this. LunaCorp liked this even less. After my generation, all bionics were given unique genetic sequences, independent programs, directives to avoid attachments.”
I thought of my own desire to detach, my reluctance to get to know anyone in my life on any deep level. I remembered how hard Sunny had fought to break through my barriers, to be my friend. I’d taken it for granted. I wouldn’t make the same mistake here on Thura.
“I would like to have seen my family one last time. But Gol took them all away when they became too weak to follow their programming. He did not want me to be sad. I am grateful to Gol. Because I am not sad.” His lips wobbled before hitching back up again. “It is good to be a Thuran.”
“You like living here?” I asked, stopping to bury my nose in the petals of an enormous white flower that smelled like melon and honey. “You’re happy?”
He stopped to sniff a flower too, a green puffball with bright orange spikes.
One that, if his flinching grimace was any indication, didn’t smell as sweet as mine.
“It is very nice,” he said. “But I do get lonely sometimes. I do not have many friends. The newer generation bionics do not spend much time with me. I think they find me too robotic. I do not look like the rest of you. I am different.”
Sliding my hand over his elbow joint, his titanium shell cool and smooth under my fingers, I said, “I don’t have many friends either. And I think you look just fine.”
“Why do you not have many friends? You have very nice skin and pretty hair. If not for your eye-blink speed, nobody would even know you were a bionic.”
“My what?” My mouth hung open. “What’s wrong with my eye-blink speed?”
He made a raspy, digital sound I thought might be his version of laughter. “Non-bionics take one-hundred milliseconds or longer to blink, on average. You blink in ninety-two milliseconds, on average. It is a dead giveaway.”
When I just stood there silently, surprised that I’d never noticed this discrepancy, his eyes shuttered closed.
“I have been timing your blinks.” He shook his head. “I am sorry. That is not a normal thing to do.”
“It’s okay,” I said with a laugh. “And I don’t know why I don’t have many friends. But I do know that I’d like to have more of them.”
“I will be your friend,” he said as the sun rose over the dome, orange light glinting off the angular curves of his shoulders. “If it is okay with Dr. Semson, that is.”
“He won’t mind. But I’m sure he’d like it if you called him Sem.”
Mal patted my hand with his. “Then we are friends. You and me. This makes me happy.”
“Me too,” I said, and when I tiptoed back into our hut thirty minutes later, I realized that it was true. I was happy here.
Nothing Mal told me about Thura was suspicious, no secrets or schemes.
No devious plans. It was just a safe place for bionics to live freely.
And even though his right eyebrow had twitched when I asked him if non-bionics had ever lived here freely too—Yes, he’d said; long ago—I had no reason to doubt him.
Just like Sem will have no reason to doubt me when I tell him I want to stay.
Sem, who, along with Grover, hadn’t moved from the position I’d left him in.
Quietly, I slid back into bed, pulling Sem’s arm back over my waist. And just when I’d closed my eyes, he asked, “Where did you go?”
“Out walking with Mal.” I kissed his cheek. “I think I’ve made a new friend.”
Sem grinned, about to say something when Grover stood up tall on his back, filled his furry chest with air, wrenched his beak open wide, and crowed.
“Sweet merciful Saints!” Sem cried, shooing Grover off his back. “How does he keep getting louder?”
When Grover jumped onto the sill and crowed again, I climbed out of bed and shooed him out through the window.
“No crowing in the hut,” I called after him while he scampered into his favorite happle tree.
Hanging from a branch by his tail, he scowled at me.
“Don’t look at me like that, Grover. You know the rules. ”
I turned back around, and Sem was sitting up, staring at me. His lips were parted, breaths shallower than usual, faster too.
“Don’t move,” he said, his voice still low and gravelly from sleep. “Don’t move a muscle.”
I stood in a beam of sunlight, a golden glow illuminating my breasts, slipping over my stomach.
Staring at me, he crawled to sit on the end of the bed.
“You are so breathtakingly beautiful, Elanie. I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t know you.
I can’t believe I spent so many years existing without you.
No wonder I wasn’t happy then. No wonder I was searching.
” His lips hitched at one corner. “The most wonderful thing in my life hadn’t happened to me yet. ”
“Sem,” I said with a sigh that felt like my bones exhaling. “Do you really mean that?”
He curled his fingers, beckoning me closer. “Come here.”
I went to him, straddling his lap. And when I looped my arms around his neck and gazed into his eyes, silver threads dancing in a sea of blue, I knew we’d be okay. Because I knew that this thing between us was real.
“You’re beautiful too.” I placed my hand on his chest. “Your skin reminds me of the sky. Sometimes it’s so light, like dawn right before the sun rises.
Sometimes it’s so dark it’s like a thunderstorm.
” I slid my hand behind his neck, my fingers playing in the soft, silver hair that had grown long enough to curl at the ends.
“But most of the time, it’s this bright, vibrant color.
Like the perfect blue-sky day. That’s you, Sem. A cloudless sky.”
“Elanie?” His eyes went a bit wider. “Did you just make a metaphor?”
“Bionics can make metaphors,” I said with a pout. “Some bionics are very poetic.”
He buried his face in my neck, and I felt his lips curl upward against my skin. “I’ve just never heard you make one.” Pulling away after a soft kiss, he brushed my hair back over my shoulders. “How are you? Are you sore?” His gaze dropped. “Are you still okay with what happened last night?”
My head tilted. “Okay? What do you mean?”
He tensed. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember. I know we were messed up, but—”
I burst into laughter, burying my face in his neck this time.
“Elanie? Talk to me.” There was a nervous edge to his voice. “You remember, right? Right?”
“I remember, and I’m not sore.”
“Thank the Saints,” he breathed, his hands closing around my hips. “So no regrets?”
“No.” I leaned back. “Why? Do you have regrets?”
“Hells no. And I’ll do it again right now just to prove it to you.”
Laughing again, I kissed him while he pulled me in close, his fingers skimming my waistband. “Actually,” I said when his hands slid inside my pants to cup my behind, “I think a little proof is necessary sometimes.”
“Oh, I can provide evidence.” He pulled, rocking me against him, already hard. “I’ll give you all the evidence you want. Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”
“That’s good.” I undid the tie of his pants and eased my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around his erection. “Bionics aren’t easy to convince.” His eyes closed when I stroked him from base to tip. “We require lots of data.”
Letting him go, I stood to take off my pants. But when I tried to settle back into his lap, his expression changed, the heat in his gaze fading. “Elanie, wait.”
“Wait?” His body seemed ready, and mine definitely was. “Wait for what?”
His sigh was so deep I could have fallen into it. “Before we do this again, there’s something we need to talk about.”