Girl Cyborg: A Dystopian Action Adventure Thriller

Empyrean Eggs

It was full dark when a light came on in the barn below. Bess had no idea how long she had been waiting, buried in straw. When she tried to pull herself free, her muscles hardly responded, as if she'd rusted in place like the Tin Man.

"Bess?" Lance looked up at her through the gaps in the barn's rotting floorboards. "Can you climb down the ladder?"

"Sorry, I can hardly move. Maybe if I get rid of the straw?" Bess started brushing it away with her hands. Just that simple activity brought home how weak her arms were. Was this what it felt like to be a civilian? Her eyes went to Lance as he topped the ladder.

He stood looking at her, hands on hips, feet planted securely on a crossbeam. As she fussed at the straw, Bess noticed his expression change. He strode over, wrapped his arms around her and lifted her out of the haystack. When he set her down, his face only inches from hers, Bess's heart raced a little. She could pick out only a few details in the dark. The light from below, reflecting from his eyes, the stubble on his jaw. She shied away.

"What are you staring at?" She hated him seeing her weak and dependent when her whole value was in her strength and service to others.

"I'm trying to figure out how to get you back down the ladder if you can hardly stand." He dragged the chain, which hung from a block and tackle, a little closer and started pulling.

"Give me a second to clean up." She started swiping at pieces of hay stuck in her civilian clothes.

"You can do that on the ground." He held out a hand and Bess took it, stepping onto the hay bales gripped by the iron claw contraption that had carried her up. He began lowering them down, Bess's hands gripped around the chain. When it swung crazily she let out a most unmilitary shout but Lance had her, his arms suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, holding her fast so she couldn't fall.

He might not be big like a cyber, but for a civilian he was strong, and he moved with the grace. Her back raged with pain, but he made her feel secure as he lowered them the rest of the way down. After that, he gave her his arm as they crossed the field and climbed the stairs, up to the white bedroom where he left her to prepare for the night.

For a while, Bess lay awake in bed, wondering if the Bounty Hunter would return, but what was the point in worrying about something she couldn't prevent? The better tactic was to sleep so that if he did return, she would be rested and ready to face him.

There would be no hiding a second time, Bess decided. After what Lance had done for her, she should leave at dawn. If she met the Bounty Hunter again, it would be on the road.

#

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of pipes knocking as Lance ran water downstairs. It must be nice owning a farm with its own windmill generators and solar panels on the roofs, especially if it meant showering her aching muscles in hot water. When there were blackouts in Bedabun City, things here would carry on without interruption.

Academy buildings were topped with solar panels and heating coils too, although the last students to rise still ran out of hot water. She was sure they rationed it on purpose, to punish anyone who tried for extra sleep.

The comforting bustle of Lance in the kitchen stopped. She heard his steps on the stairs and tried to sit up to greet him but pain prevented her.

Lance knocked and entered, bearing a tray.

"I hope you like your eggs scrambled."

"Is there another way?" She couldn't help it. She smiled. The Academy mess hall served re-hydrated powdered eggs.

He set down the tray and helped her sit.

When she was propped up with pillows, he set a tray table across her lap. The royal blue plate made the yellow scrambled eggs, yellow cornbread, and bright red fried tomatoes pop with colour contrast. Her mouth watered.

"Aren't you going to eat something too?"

"I ate hours ago. Eat and go back to sleep. You should rest up."

His kindness reminded her of the motorcycle and his sacrifice the night before. "There has to be something I can do to thank you."

"Can you knit?"

She shook her head.

"Darn socks or sew by hand?"

"I'm pretty good with a needle and thread. The first thing you do in the Academy is sew patches on your dress uniform and overalls."

"I thought you people didn't believe in him military insignia."

"They're identification patches, so you can tell what class and house each grad is from." Bess couldn't help herself, she picked up the cornbread and started nibbling, as slowly as her growling stomach allowed.

"All those school names don't fool anyone. They should just call you platoons and regiments. That's what you are."

"We are a school with classes, report cards, and a headmaster."

"Who reports to generals in the NUS."

"Fair enough. Nobody's trying to hide that from the natives." She put down the cornbread and forked up a mouthful of scrambled eggs. Delicious.

"By natives, you mean me?"

"You live here, which means you're native to this place."

"Sort of. And you're sort of a school, not an occupying force."

"What is it with you people? Why are you so paranoid against us? All I want to do is save lives. My whole job is to help you."

He stepped back abruptly. "Eat your breakfast. I'll check on you later. If you're still feeling helpful, I might even bring you a shirt to patch."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to be a freeloader." What a sour puss. Bess debated refusing to eat the rest of the meal, on principle, but only for a second. The scent of tomatoes fried in genuine butter was driving her crazy. He could call her a NUS Imperialist or an Academy Brat or much worse. She would put up with all sorts of verbal abuse if he kept feeding her like this. It would almost be a shame when she left to reunite the baby with its family.

That is, if the Academy didn't shoot her for deserting and removing the Signal. She hadn't deliberately made her body useless but it had been her fault. She had gone AWOL alone in the Night Market, and gotten herself kidnapped and rendered useless. The Academy wouldn't see much difference between getting kidnapped by willful negligence and deserting — when the results were the same. Every moment she spent here made her guiltier, and her actions less defensible. She must go now, even if she had to make Lance drive her through the Academy gates in a wheel barrel. She had survived the night, but now it was time to face what she'd done.

Well, almost time. Bess sampled another forkful of scrambled egg with tomato. She had never tasted such divine flavours combined, or such delicious cornbread. In that beautiful moment, she couldn't believe the Academy could judge her. How could they?

Clearly, she had already died. This fluffy white bed in this white curtained bedroom was too celestial to be real, and the food tasted like Heaven on her tongue.

Well, close enough. She could face the firing squad after she cleaned her plate.

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