Page 76 of Elanie & the Empath
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 thatIwas 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 shoulderone 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 ofa 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 inclose so he could whisper, “The programmers thought it would save them money.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course they did.”
