Cyber Witch

Chapter 8.1 - Sure Would be a Shame to Die Now

[Zach]

Regret hung like icicles in my gut. I shouldn't have come down so hard on Avia for copying the Project Asclepius research data. We avoided each other for days, which was awkward on this small cargo shuttle, and if our eyes accidentally met, she turned away immediately. Tense silence hung like smoke.

I busied myself with miscellaneous repairs, starting with critical systems. Avia monitored and optimized the one operational fusion reactor, trying to make the most of our meager fuel reserve. Outside of that, she studied the research data stored within her cybernetic implants, usually while lying in a fold-down bunk and facing the hull.

Fortunately, the shuttle held enough emergency rations to feed us, although in the form of tasteless meal bars. To maintain her blood sugar levels, which also powered her cyber implants, Avia ate twice what I did. But I think the nutritional balance was not ideal for her.

Avia was... complicated — on one hand a strong and brave woman I admired, and on the other, a lonely, vulnerable little girl who I wanted to shelter from an unfair life. Asleep in her bunk, she sometimes trembled and let out cries that tore at my heart, indications that her nightmares had returned. I barely imagined what she endured as a child soldier, then on the run as a wanted fugitive. Part of her pain I caused. Yet through it all, she maintained a compassionate heart.

"I fixed the wash station," I told Avia as I entered the tiny galley, breaking our silence. "We should be able to shower and wash our clothes now." The only clothes we had were the white Omni-Corp uniforms we had stolen.

"That's good," Avia replied without making eye contact. Facing away, she reached to take a meal bar from within a cabinet.

"Avia..." I said, hesitating and looking down. "I'm sorry. I... I shouldn't have been so hard on you, and I understand why you copied the data." Still, I didn't agree with her choice, but I realized it was born from a caring nature. "We'll figure out a way to get through this together."

Turning to me, Avia's moist eyes gazed into mine and her lower lip trembled. Despite her strength, there was a vulnerability to her. When I opened my arms, she moved into them, burrowing her head under my chin. And a shadow lifted from my heart.

"Thank you, Zach," she whispered. "I thought I failed you."

"But I thought I failed you," I replied, squeezing her tighter. A realization came to me — Avia desperately needed acceptance, to belong. After growing up an orphan, a child soldier, and then a lonely and reviled fugitive, that deep desire made sense. And it was something I could offer.

"Let's talk," I said, releasing her. "I'll make some tea." I'm not a tea drinker, and the tea I found tucked away in a drawer, but it served a purpose. As we sat across the small gray plas-steel table, gripped steaming mugs, I asked, "What do you make of the research data?"

Avia took a sip, then grimaced. "Medical nano-bots were revolutionary for treating specific diseases, but Project Asclepius took it a step further, generalizing the bots for continuous health maintenance and anti-aging. Some scientists believed they would double human lifespans, or more. The Omni-Corp executives were most excited about the profit potential."

"That's their driving purpose." I took a sip, and it was so bitter that I nearly spat it out. "Frack, this tastes bad."

"Yeah," Avia chuckled, pushing her teacup away. "The trial protocol showed a complete disregard for life — criminal, I would say. Most of the initial test subjects died in the first trial. They made the nano-bots too aggressive, and they killed like an auto-immune disease. Later trials worked better.

"The control coding is brilliant. The bots network together, collectively forming a powerful computer, which optimized their effectiveness. But they still haven't solved the disruption caused by naturally expiring nano-bots. Presently, the technology requires an external computer to coordinate the network."