I should’ve felt trapped at the outpost, just like I had back at the carrier. There was even less space to move around, and the weight on my shoulders was only getting heavier. Still, maybe it was the fact that I could actually go outside, or the fact that my hands were fuller than ever, but time was flashing by faster than I would’ve liked.
The mornings disappeared beneath a ruthless work-out routine I’d set for myself, meant to break down every muscle fiber in my body over and over again. In one sense, it was wasted effort. Until I actually integrated with my chosen body modifications, whatever gains I saw would be painfully insignificant. In another sense, I couldn’t let that be an excuse to slack off. Discipline wasn’t built over a night, and I needed the exercise to keep sane.
Despite my best efforts to follow Celian’s advice, I hadn’t been able to forget that mod I saw, nor would the sinister System messages that’d followed leave my mind. Then there was the general end of the world looming over me, as well as countless lives that might be lost if I failed again. Only as I ground myself breathless would those knots in my stomach ease up.
Some of the only rest I saw was during lunchtime when I’d meet up with Mikayes and Jenna. It was another necessary part of my existence. Of our existence. Just like I spent every minute we had together trying to figure out the intricacies of this deal I’d signed myself up for, so did they try to figure out me — what my capabilities were, how much I was really worth, and “If you tell me how you’ll make me rich, I’ll give you an ice cream, kid. Pretty please…?”
Then again, it wasn’t all for nothing. During that second meal we spent together, I learned that most of Jenna’s grafts were, indeed, more of less self-built. She was just as much of a fanatic as I’d suspected, and several hours had swiftly disappeared as I incidentally showed some interest in her work.
Not that I minded. I did enjoy it, even if it were more on the screws-and-bolts side of my own expertise, and through some rather innocent lead-on questions on my part, she’d ended up promising to help me finally figure out my own UI situation. I couldn’t keep relying on stationary computers or a clunky tablet to access the System.
It would take some time to finalize the prototype, months maybe, but it should be done before we reached the New Hub. Our destination was further away than I’d realized. Then again, on the scale of space travel, it was also just a stone’s throw away. I doubted I would be lacking for things to do during the journey, anyway.
Even now, trapped on this planet, I could feel the stress steadily pile up on my shoulders. I hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in over a week, and despite having spent almost every afternoon, evening, and free hour I had to spare on them, I hadn’t reached half as far as I’d hoped with my mod synthesizing.
I’d wanted to take my time, to do things properly, but now, my credits were running out fast, and my days faster still.
𐫰 𐫰 𐫰
“Alright, kid.” Mikayes yawned. His feet were leisurely rested upon the corner table in Mosé’s Bastaurant — our usual meet-up place — chair precariously balanced upon two legs and seeming bored to no end. These days, he didn’t even try to peddle his wares to the locals. He merely seemed eager to get away from there. “This shitty storm is meant to clear up in three days,” the crack of thunder that rumbled over the roof seemed there only to sound offended, “but we’re not sure for how long. We’re going to have to move fast, so be ready to set off the moment the skies open up. We’re already behind schedule as is, and I don’t want to spend another minute in this shit-hole unless we have to.”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
I slid back the test model I’d been trying out towards Jenna. It was a potential replacement for my UI, but it needed to be readjusted. This time, it’d been too tight.
“We’re setting off at first light?” I asked.
“We’re seated and ready to take off at first light,” Mikayes corrected me. “Bags packed, toilets visited, no excuses. I’ll even let you sleep in the ship if you think that’ll help you be on time.”
I let out a quiet sigh. Had I ever been late before?
Despite my constant reminders, Mikayes struggled not treating me like a child.
“Want to make a bet?” I asked. “Between you and me, twenty credits says that I won’t be the one delaying us.”
𐫰 𐫰 𐫰
It was underneath a leathery umbrella-contraption that I made my way back from the bastaurant. Mosé, the bartender, sold them behind his counter, and they were sturdy enough to even hold against the strong gales that would occasionally whip through the outpost.
They were a necessity if you planned to stay here for any longer periods of time.
Being constantly wet grew tedious real fast.
“You went out again?” Myla asked as I stepped inside the medical facility, having just shook off the umbrella outside the door.
She was standing further inside the hallway — a scrawny little ghost of a thing — Happy clutched to her chest even though none of the smiling rabbit’s joy seemed to ever rub off on her. Even now, over a week later, she looked harrowed. There were bags under her eyes, and she’d barely eaten anything for days, leaving her as little more than skin and bones.
“I did,” I said, having paused there to really look her over. Every time I did, the guilt would rage inside my stomach, but I needed the reminder. I wasn’t allowed to forget.
“Was it those nightmares again?” I asked. Usually, she didn’t leave her room unless she had to. Unless she desperately needed someone to hold her hand, she wouldn’t even venture from her bed.
Now, however, the once go-lucky girl quietly shook her head.
“I-I thought about what you told me…” she began. “Can, can you really make me stronger?”
I winced at the question. I’d never been good at comforting people — this past week had been a painful reminder of that — and the last time I found Myla crying by herself, I’d ended up telling her the same thing I’d told myself all those years: the one mantra that’d kept me sane, “Don’t focus on the pain, focus on getting stronger instead. That way, you can at least make sure it never happens again…”
Inadvertently calling a traumatized eleven year old ‘weak’ wasn’t my proudest moment, but it had, at least, let me know what I could do for her. Something better than whatever few hours I’d spared helping her figure out her UI. That much was little more than a promise, and it’d barely been enough to distract her from the more painful things.
“Did you bring the samples?” I asked, and Myla gave me a faint nod.
Happy slouched a bit as she raised her one hand to show me the three vials she held.
One contained a single strand of hair, another some saliva, and the last one a few drops of blood. I could even tell the exact finger she’d gotten it from by the colorful band aid wrapped around her left pinky. Was that cruel, too, asking a young kid to take their own blood?
It was too late to regret it now, though, so I just nodded as I took them from her hand.
As things would have it, I really could make her stronger. I’d witnessed Celian perform my complete gene scan back then, and I was confident I could do Myla’s just as well. More so, I’d come to a standstill with the mods I was creating for myself — a wall I wasn’t sure I could get through without breaking something. Time was running out, and although I wasn’t confident if I’d be able to make anything functional for her, I’d sure as the Void give it a try.
For while I wasn’t sure about the moral implications of making life-changing decisions for someone too young to know what they meant, they’d be doing worse things to her at the Academy. There, they wouldn’t care what low-grade, cookie-cutter mods they pushed her way to integrate with. It was a system of numbers rather than the individual, and anyone who drew the plentiful short-straws were left to fend for themselves.
If I could set Myla up for a better life than my old one, then I owed it to her. I’d be a monster not to try.
Celian wouldn’t mind overseeing a second integration if it came to it. As long as I had the mods to provide.
“Meet me down here tomorrow at dawn,” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. “If I succeed, then both of us will become strong enough to forge our own fate.”
I couldn’t wait any longer than that. Not if I was going to leave the planet in three days.
It was finally getting time to upgrade, and the thought of it made my stomach draw tighter than ever.