Page 43 of Human Reform
For once in my life, I wasn’t going to just accept loss as inevitable.I was going to stand and fight for what I wanted.For who I wanted.
I turned back toward the security center, my steps determined now, fueled by righteous anger rather than despair.
EIGHTEEN
DAXON
I stood frozenin Alora’s office as the door vibrated from her emotional exit.The Planet Alpha emblem over my heart seemed to burn against my skin, a physical reminder of the duty I had just chosen over the woman who had completely upended my existence.
“Shit,” I whispered, the curse feeling foreign on my tongue.
My fist clenched at my side as I replayed the hurt in her storm-gray eyes, and the way her voice had cracked when she’d said,“I can’t lose you.Not after… not after everything.I already lost Tim, I can’t?—”
I’d silenced her.Cut her off like her pain meant nothing compared to my duty.
The monitors still displayed the simulation results, taunting me with their clinical assessment: AGGRESSIVE PATTERNS AND REWRITING NEUTRALIZED.FAILSAFE CODE PRESERVED.MEMORY CORE INTEGRITY COMPROMISE DETECTED.
What would I forget?The smell of her hair when I woke up with her in my arms this morning?The taste of her skin?The sound of her laughter?
My chest tightened with an unfamiliar deep ache.When had Alora become so essential that the thought of forgetting her felt like dying?
“You’re an idiot,” I growled at myself.
Sage’s warning echoed in my ears:“You’re totally emotionally compromised.I should report you to Commander Helix as a liability.”
I’d promised Sage I wouldn’t choose Alora over the colony.That my duty would come first.And I’d meant it—or I thought I had until I saw Alora’s face crumple at my decision.
“There has to be another solution,” I muttered, pacing the small confines of the office.
The jungle light filtered through the window, casting long shadows across Alora’s workspace.I glanced at her datapad, still connected to the simulation environment, and an idea suddenly struck me.
What if I didn’t have to choose?What if I could fulfill my duty to the colony and keep my promise to protect what Alora and I had built between us?
My fingers flew across her interface, pulling up the patch prototype.If I could archive my neural framework first, and then implement the patch prototype to myself, all while she was gone…
“Sorry, Alora,” I whispered as I transferred the patch prototype data to a portable drive.“I have to try to do both.Save the colony and save us.”
I slipped the drive into my pocket and strode toward the door, already calculating the fastest route to the central processing hub where I could archive my neural framework first and then upload the patch prototype directly to it.
I paused at the threshold, where Alora had pushed past me just ten minutes before.The ghost of her touch lingered on my arm, a reminder of everything I stood to forget.
“It doesn’t matter,” I decided aloud.“Even if I forget you, I’ll find you again.”
Because that was the truth I’d been fighting since the moment I first saw her.Some connections transcended memory or programming.Some bonds couldn’t be deleted, no matter how thoroughly you corrupted the code.
I stepped out into the corridor, resolve hardening my spine.I would sacrifice myself—not just for the colony but for her.So she wouldn’t have to make hard choices.So she wouldn’t have to live with the grief of someone else she loved disappearing forever.
I headed for my workstation in the main operations area, already planning my next move.Tegan glanced up as I approached, his eyes narrowing slightly at whatever he saw in my expression.
“Everything all right, Daxon?”he asked, his voice carrying just enough suspicion to put me on edge.
“Fine,” I replied curtly, sliding into my chair.“Just finalizing some security protocols.”
He nodded slowly, unconvinced.“Where’s Dr.Bridges?”
“Taking a break,” I said, which wasn’t technically a lie.
I accessed my terminal, creating a diversion that would clear the central processing hub for a while.A minor security alert in the hydroponics dome—nothing dangerous, just enough to draw attention away from the hub for the thirty minutes I’d need.
