FICTION: Cyborg Sleeps Part 19

In which Asira Y meets another cyborg and forms a tentative connection.   Catch up with the story here.

Part 19

Asira was allowed out of bed the next day, but Dr. McDonald was still adamant that she should not do any of her customary exercises. The stitches would need time to heal and anything strenuous ran the risk of reopening the wounds. Asira raged against it, frustrated and angry at the restrictions placed upon her. "So basically I'm just about allowed to shuffle my own way to the toilet and back without you slapping me with a caution?" she had cursed, but McDonald was unmoved, simply fastening a girdle to hold the dressings in place and restrict Asira from doing too much with her waist. Asira dressed herself and decided to visit her favourite places, even if she could do nothing there.

Her first port of call was the weapons range. She asked the quartermaster for a weapon but Orla had called ahead.

"Sorry, Agent, no can do. Doctor's orders are you're not to be given anything with the slightest bit of recoil. And honestly, much as I enjoy watching you shoot, I'd rather have you wait and be fully fit to go rather than rush things and see you out for even longer. Sorry."

Asira scowled, "Understood, sir. I'll watch a while then."

But soon the injured agent found it even more irritating, believing herself better than the regular soldiers who were getting their practice in. She decided that she should leave and see if she could talk her way into some other activity. It was too much to hope that the gym would be open to her right now. As she gathered herself to stand, however, a person entered the range whom she instantly realised must be a cyborg like herself. Though she didn't know it, Agent Charles Vee had been activated, just like Asira herself just two days earlier, to take on the new mission received by Gattell the night before. Like Asira, Charles was going to hone his skills to ensure that they were in peak condition for his mission. With blond hair, blue eyes and tanned skin, Asira thought that this newcomer could almost have been a poster boy for the army and wondered why he had let them mutilate his body for the sake of becoming a cyborg. As he checked out his favoured handguns and took his position at the range, Asira's senses focussed. It was rare for two cyborg agents to meet like this, because of the nature of their piecemeal lives, most of which were spent actually out on missions. She was curious to know how he performed at the tasks that were so instinctive to her.

The difference between the purely organic limbs of the other soldiers and the cybernetically enhanced body of the agent was instantly apparent. Asira considered the results and compared it to her self-assessment.

She called out, "Nice shooting, agent. I could do better, but only by millimetres."

A range of emotions passed across the face of the other cyborg. Annoyance, but then curiosity just as Asira had felt, at the presence of a fellow cyborg. Finally, professional pride and determination to accept the challenge.

A sneer, but not angry or contemptuous, twisted his features: "Go on, prove it then."

"Can't. Not allowed to shoot. Hurt after my last mission, Orla's got me sidelined." Asira allowed her bitterness to show.

"Shit, how bad? Wrecked your arm, I see."

"Scratched with a knife, lost a ton of blood. But the stitches are a bitch, that's why the doc has me sitting out training. Only happened last morning."

"Jeez, how'd you let that happen?"

"Successful mission. Then as I was going RTB, some racist arseholes picked the wrong 'Paki bitch' to rape. You know what they say – 'You should see the other guy'? You should see the other guys. My only regret is I didn't get all of them before they ran away."

"Shit. They warned me the Director was pissed off at something. Now I know what. What's your name, Agent?"

"Asira Y."

"Charles Vee. Call me Charlie."

"Will do."

"Pleased to meet you, Asira. Who knows, maybe I'll see you when I get back? But now I need to get myself ready." Charles didn't waste time waiting for a reply but turned, handed in the weapons, and left. Asira expected nothing else, but still whispered, "Good hunting, friend," to his departing back. She knew his magically and cybernetically enhanced hearing would pick it up.

Asira left as well, and decided to walk alone towards the perimeter of the base in the open countryside. As she walked, she thought back to her meeting with Charles Vee and the curious feelings it had stirred in her. It was, she thought, somehow a relief to know at last from first-hand experience that she was not unique, instead of relying on the word of others to tell her so. The strong wish for a connection with this man came from that more than anything else. Was there a connection? She didn't know. She had blurted out her injury in hideously embarrassing fashion but he had taken it in his stride and she felt as though Charlie had extended a wish for more contact too. He treated her as the professional she was, and as an equal. Something no one else had done ever.

Or was that true? A memory returned to her, a memory of a priestess sitting beside her bed and insisting on playing cards. Was he the only one, or had Bena also seen her as an equal?