Page 32 of Human Reform
I smiled, picturing a younger, wilder Alora.“Where did you go after they kicked you out?”
“My brother, Tim, took me in.”Her voice softened, filled with a tenderness I hadn’t heard before.“He was five years older, already in the army as a strategist.We shared a tiny apartment until he got deployed.It was cramped and we fought like hell sometimes, but…” She trailed off, absentmindedly touching the small chain bracelet on her wrist.
“He gave you that,” I guessed.
Alora nodded, her eyes suddenly shimmering with tears.“Before his last deployment four years ago.They…” Her voice broke.“They never found him.Or his body.He’s just gone.”
The pain in her voice cut through me like a knife.Without thinking, I stood and moved around the desk.I pulled her up from her chair and wrapped my arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head as she pressed her face against my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair, breathing in her scent.“I’m so sorry, Alora.”
She clung to me, her tears soaking through my shirt.I held her tighter, something fierce and protective roaring within me.I wanted so badly to take her pain away and shield her from any more hurt.
“He was all I had left,” she whispered against my chest.“After he disappeared, I just… shut down.I couldn’t do it anymore.Couldn’t care about anyone or anything.”
I ran my hand down her back in slow, soothing strokes.“Is that when you left CyberEvolution?”
She nodded.“Six months later.I couldn’t keep coding weapons when my brother was…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.
I cupped her face between my hands, tilting it up so she could see my eyes.“You won’t lose anyone or anything else,” I promised fiercely.“Not on my watch.”
THIRTEEN
ALORA
Something in Daxon’s voice—thatrough-edged certainty and that unshakable commitment—reached past all my carefully constructed walls.For the first time since that fateful day four years ago, when I last hugged my brother, I fully believed someone again.Not just believed their words but believed in them.In Daxon.
I knew without question that Daxon would throw himself between me and any danger, just as he’d done with Sage earlier.That realization should’ve concerned me—to matter that much to someone again, to risk that inevitable loss—but instead, it felt like taking a full breath after years of shallow ones.
I pulled back, swiping hastily at the dampness on my cheeks.“Thank you.For this.For…” I gestured vaguely at the space between us, searching for words.“For caring, I guess.It’s unexpected, but not unwelcome.”
His eyes, those bright blues with hints of violet at the edges, softened.“I’m glad I could help.That I can… make things better.”
“You do.”The words came out more intimately than I’d intended.
At this moment, four years after that day I found out that Tim disappeared, I felt a small crack in that shell of grief—a tiny fissure letting in something that felt suspiciously like hope again.
What would Tim think of my behavior these past four years?Would he understand me shutting out the world and refusing to let anyone close since his disappearance?
No.He’d hate it.My stubborn, wonderful brother would be so disappointed in me.
A strange thought struck me.What if Tim had somehow orchestrated this?As ridiculous as it sounded, I could almost picture him pulling cosmic strings, making some weird bargain with the universe to drag me out of my shell and force me to confront my demons.To find someone who could help me heal.It was exactly the kind of outlandish scheme he’d cook up.
I smiled at the thought, a real smile that reached my eyes and eased something tight in my chest.Wherever Tim was now—whether watching over me or simply gone—I felt a sense of peace about his absence now.
“We should get back to work,” I said, stepping back from the intimate circle of Daxon’s arms.“This code won’t dismantle itself.”
He nodded, his massive frame straightening.“I should check my station.Daily protocols need attention.”His hand brushed my arm, a casual touch that still sent electricity racing across my skin.“I’ll return at sunset to escort you to your suite.”
I watched him leave, my body experiencing that strange disappointment I felt whenever he walked away.For someone who’d spent three years deliberately avoiding contact with anyone, I was suddenly finding solitude distinctly less appealing.
Settling back into my chair, I faced the three monitors and their glowing display of the corrupted code.Commander Helix’s observation about my emotional instability echoed in my brain.She wasn’t wrong—emotions had always been my weak point, the unpredictable variable in my otherwise ordered mind.I didn’t want to jeopardize Daxon’s position or our work together simply because I couldn’t keep my feelings in check.
I cracked my knuckles and dove in, determined to find a way to completely delete both the malicious section of code and my original architecture.It wouldn’t be easy—maybe not even possible—but I’d be damned if I wouldn’t try.For these peaceful cyborgs who deserved their freedom.For Daxon.For whatever future might exist beyond these screens.
The hours blurred together as I worked, testing various approaches only to have them fail spectacularly.One promising method sent the system into a recursive loop that forced me to do a hard reset.Another nearly wiped out crucial security parameters that would have affected the entire settlement.
Thankfully, the system I had tested my potential solutions on was offline, and didn’t impact any of the cyborgs or the settlement.But the thought of my near failures and the possible detrimental consequences they could’ve caused sent my mind reeling with doubt and worry.I needed to figure out how to fix this glitch problem without ruining anything else permanently.The stakes were becoming increasingly higher by the hour.
