Girl Cyborg: A Dystopian Action Adventure Thriller

Achey Breaky Start

Bess and Kathy were standing in the front hall, waiting for Lance. She was wearing the violet dress and a pair of flimsy shoes with heels that made click-clack sounds on the hardwood.

"It's cold out." Kathy handed Bess a trench coat.

Lance appeared at the top of the stairs. He wore navy dress pants and a crisp shirt that emphasized the contrast between his muscled shoulders and slim waist. As he approached, Bess realized she had never seen civilian clothes look like they were made for the owner. At the Academy, civvies were shared and fit like hand-me-downs.

Lance took a look at her and frowned. "Don't wear that coat. It makes you look like a spy."

"Truth in advertising," Kathy said.

"Don't be stupid. I found her, not the other way around. What kind of real spy would let herself get captured by an ordinary country boy?"

"You can rope a calf in seconds and you're good with dumb animals. What other skills would you need?" Almost a head taller, Kathy looked down her nose at Bess.

Why the sudden change in attitude? An hour ago, Kathy was chatty and happy to loan Bess any dress in the closet.

Something had happened during the makeover. Bess remembered Kathy's sudden trembling and silent treatment. If she didn't know better, Bess would think Kathy got a warning via signal. Kathy was treating Bess like a dangerous intruder, but Bess was the prisoner. She had even agreed to this meet-the-community madness. The Ball was Lance's idea and she was only doing it because he had promised to drop her back in the city right after. Couldn't Kathy see she just wanted to go home?

They left for the dance in one car, Kathy silent and brooding in the passenger seat, while Lance chatted almost incessantly to Bess in the back.

"The cattlemen's ball goes back nearly 100 years, to when beef farmers were all over the place."

"So, it's a party for farmers?"

"A big charity get-together to eat the very best prime rib and steak, plus music and dancing."

Bess salivated at the thought of beef. If an army marches on its stomach; the Academy was no army.

"That'll be a change from potatoes and beans. The Academy is obsessed with genetically modifying plants. They want to get maximum nutrition into the fewest bites.

"How modern," said Lance.

"They won't be happy until we can march all day on three beans and a leaf of lettuce." Bess shuddered, remembering how bitter the salads were.

"Ever had a roast beef dinner?"

"I've read about them."

"Read, about meat?"

"We study the people and history of the area but we don't get to try the food."

"What a ripoff."

"We're supposed to avoid personal contact. Know your allies but avoid corruption."

"Like decent food and talking to people. I can see how that might affect your brainwashing."

"Stop treating her like a poor victim," Kathy said. "Her people have ruined our lives and destroyed our land."

Bess couldn't deny it. Tonight, she was going to spend hours surrounded by resentful citizens. Her stomach fluttered. She hoped all the locals wouldn't feel like Kathy.

"What if her people hear about this and send in the troops," Kathy muttered to Lance "We should go back."

Nobody spoke again for twenty minutes or so. Without the signal to check, she wasn't sure.