Page 68 of Human Required
“We want peace. We want to raise our children in freedom and to teach them both their human and cyborg heritage. To show them they belong to this universe as much as anyone born on Earth.” My voice grew stronger with each word. “If you use those reactivation codes, you’re not fixing malfunctioning machines. You’re committing genocide against an emerging people.”
Silence descended. My words hung in the night air, floating beneath the twin moons like a prayer.
The CE operatives remained stone-faced, but Dr. West’s expression was unreadable, her eyes fixed on Olivia rather than me. Not a muscle moved among them. Had they even heard me? Could they see past their conditioning to recognize our humanity?
Sage shifted almost imperceptibly beside me, ready for whatever came next. Tegan’s hand moved closer to his weapon. The jungle around us seemed to hold its breath, waiting.
My heart hammered wildly against my ribcage. I’d laid bare everything—our fears, our dreams, and our right to exist. If they couldn’t see our humanity now, would they ever? It had taken Olivia weeks to understand us, to see beyond her preconceptions. Could I really expect these people to grasp it in minutes?
The silence stretched painfully. No response came.
I felt a drop of sweat trail down my back, and my grip on Olivia’s hand tightened slightly. The moment balanced on a knife’s edge—tipping toward either violence or understanding.
TWENTY-NINE
OLIVIA
I squeezed Aeon’s hand so tightly, my knuckles turned white as we stood in the clearing. The moonlight bathed us all in silvery light—Aeon, me, Commander Helix, and the forty colonists backing us. Naomi’s face was tight with suspicion and doubt, the four CE operatives flanking her with hands hovering near their neural disruptors. The sleek hull of their ship loomed behind them like a shark waiting to strike.
The tension in the clearing was thick enough to cut. Naomi’s eyes darted between me and Aeon, lingering on our joined hands.
“Naomi,” I called out suddenly, stepping forward. “You need to listen to me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Olivia, are you speaking under duress? Blink twice if?—”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” I snapped, letting go of Aeon’s hand and marching toward her. I felt his hesitation, but he didn’t stop me. “I’m not being coerced.”
I yanked my datapad from my makeshift medical bag I’d grabbed during our rush from Aeon’s quarters. My fingers trembled slightly—the culmination of weeks of work, life-and-death documentation that would determine the fate of an entire colony.
“Look at this yourself,” I thrust the datapad into her hands. “You’re an obstetrician, too. Tell me what you see.”
Naomi’s professional curiosity overcame her suspicion. She swiped through my files, her expression shifting from skepticism to recognition. The data didn’t lie—detailed charts on maternal health, fetal development patterns unique to cyborg pregnancies, and delivery protocols I’d developed specifically for their physiology.
“Before I came here, three women and five babies died within a year,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’ve already delivered three healthy infants. Three families who wouldn’t exist without this knowledge.” I gestured toward the colony behind me. “They need me, Naomi.”
“You were abducted,” she countered, but her voice lacked its earlier conviction.
“Yes,” I admitted. “And that was wrong.” I glanced back at Aeon, whose jaw tightened. “But I’m staying because it’s my choice now.”
One of the CE operatives shifted impatiently. “Dr. West, we have our orders.”
“Your orders would condemn mothers and unborn children to death,” I said, stepping between them and the colony. “Is that what CyberEvolution stands for now? Killing innocent women and children?”
Naomi’s gaze drifted from the datapad to me and then to the colonists behind us—not faceless machines but people with hopes, fears, and families on the way.
“Benjamin knew,” I whispered, invoking my fallen friend’s name. “Before he died, he saw them as people. I was too angry and too hurt by his death to realize it. But I understand now.”
I felt Aeon move closer to me, his warm hand finding my back—a touch that spoke volumes about how far we’d come.
“I’m staying here,” I said with finality. “You can report that I’ve made that choice freely.”
I took a deep breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the clearing burning into me. The jungle’s humid air clung to me as fireflies danced around us in the twilight. This small city carved from the wilderness had become my home in ways I never expected.
“One more thing, Naomi,” I said, stepping closer, “we took the same oath. Do no harm. Look around you.” I gestured at the colonists. “These aren’t machines. They’re people who laugh, cry, hope, and fear, just like us. People who want to create a future.”
Naomi’s expression remained guarded, her fingers still clutching my datapad.
“Remember what we learned in med school? How the definition of personhood evolved through centuries?” My voice grew stronger. “The only difference between humans and cyborgs is that humans were born and cyborgs were built. But their children…” I placed my hand over my heart. “Their children will be born, not built.”
