Cybrid Dreams

Carrot

Delithita didn’t seem to want Carrot around the colony, so she had assigned him to the team that was clearing the Cybrid base for anything useful.

The gorgon had only just been fixed up and repainted when the techs decided that they could weld some plate duranium between its shoulders and use it as a cargo herc. It reacted like a half paralysed loading HERC as he swung it round to allow Xena’s emancipator to load yet more equipment into the improvised cargo bay. The servos’ whining went straight through Carrot like a nail on a blackboard.

Tycho stood guard over the operation in a recently refitted bassy as Jehrico gave the techs priorities on what to take on the 2 HERCs and cargo trucks. The Trojan Horse was bored stiff. Behind him the emanc dumped it’s load into the hold and the gorgon’s knees bent a few degrees before the heavy duty servos compensated for the extra weight.

Abruptly the Metagens thoughts were interrupted by Tycho’s cry.

“Movement!” he shouted, even as the bassy spun, its autocannons whirling.

The slugs hit their target even before anyone of the team saw it. A figure in a white space suit crumpled to the ground.

Carrot radioed Xena to continue loading while he slipped on his gauntlet and dropped out of the cockpit.

Tycho and Jericho joined him at the body as Carrot scanned the body with his implants.

“Totally human; she was about to be converted judging by the chemicals in her bloodstream.” He said.

“Oh God. I should have checked my target, one of the most important rules of engagement and I forgot it.” Tycho looked at the body with a look of frustration.

The body had been completely torn apart at the waist and stomach, fired upon by weapons meant to penetrate transparent aluminium cockpits. It was a bloody mess of intestines all around it, the impact of super-fast slugs having taken it’s full effect.

“She deserves a decent burial.” Carrot said thoughtfully, “It’s the least we can do.” He turned to a tech. “Put her in a bag and then dump her in the gorgy. Well make a stop at the graveyard on the way back.”

With that he returned to the gorgon and continued with his task.

Another innocent lost, he thought.

~

Back at Fantasma he showered and changed into some cleaner clothes before composing his report of the operation. Del never asked for one, but he did it anyway, it may come in handy and it kept him busy.

The woman’s death was the only thing worthy of note in the whole operation so the report was very short.

“The operation proceeded as planned. We brought back a large amount of necessary equipment for vehicle repair and maintenance, as well as some medical equipment and some aircraft parts. The enhancements to the gorgon worked satisfactorily, although they would not be recommended for use in combat as manoeuvring was substandard to the point of being dangerous in combat.

“There was only one time when Tycho felt he had to act to protect the op. Unfortunately he reacted instinctively and shot a civilian who had been held captive by the Machinators. Death was instantaneous, fortunately. The body was taken to the graveyard and buried before returning to the colony.”

It was a cold description, but it was the best he could do.

~

He was there again, the gorgon’s knees howled as they took weight their servos were not designed to carry. A shout came over the radio and a basilisk spun on the spot. He was paralysed, he knew what was coming, but he couldn’t stop it.

Now he was running, running towards a group of human HERCs, a basilisk swung round and slugs crept their way towards him.

And hit.

~

>>Dreams<<? he thought <I> don’t >>dream<<.

This realisation disturbed Carrot as he woke up in front of the computer terminal, the report staring him in the face.

What disturbed him more was that his memory of the dreams was fast fading. Now he could not even remember what had made him wake with a start, but he did not want to encounter it again.

Looking at the clock he realised he was late for his shift at ops. He quickly put his hat and jacket back on and headed up to level one.

As he entered Icey looked at his terminals clock and then at Carrot.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Icey said “You look, how would you put it, cream crackered?”

Carrot smiled slightly at the rhyming slang.

“Bad dreams,” he replied.

Icey gave him a baffled look and left ops to Carrot and Xena.

“Razorback doesn’t think you look well at all,” she said “I agree.”

“Thank you, Xena, but I do have self diagnostic circuits you know. I am at perfect health. A ‘good morning’ would have sufficed,” he replied coldly.

“You may well be physically healthy, but perhaps not mentally.”

Carrot was getting annoyed. “I appreciate the concern, but I am fine. I have an organomech brain, it’s never let me down before, I don’t expect it to start now. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

With that he returned to the scan he was working on the colony and the conversation stopped.

“Cybrids don’t dream.”

“How do you know?!” he half shouted across ops.

“I once asked Altas. He said that you didn’t.”

“You may not have noticed, but there are some very subtle differences between me and Altas. Altas is a pilotform, I am a Trojan Horse. We were made to imitate humans, humans dream. It is perfectly normal.”

“Who are you trying to convince?” Xena didn’t expect an answer, Carrot knew that.

~

He was young again, but 10 years of age. He had been separated from his parents nearly a week ago and now he was the only human left in Sheffield.

He wandered along Fargate and the Moor, listening.

In the distance he heard a great pounding, like a hundred bass drums all beating at once out of time. Like a roll of thunder.

It scared him and he ran and hid in an abandoned building. Hours later an adjudicator bearing the Machinator colours crouched to look through the window at him. It levelled a PBW at him for a second and then got back up before disintegrating the front of the building with it’s weapons. The gaping hole in the building revealed a Cybrid transport. A door opened in the side and two units jumped out.

He screamed and tried to run, but it was too little, too late. He was shot with a dart and fell to the floor, paralysed and unconscious.

~

He woke in the vehicle bay with tears in his eyes. He looked around to make sure no-one was around. The bay was empty. <I> really ought to start using//utilising <my> bed. He thought.

When he got to his quarters, he ordered the door to magnetically seal, before shutting down the power to the room. He slumped onto his bed and fell asleep again.

~

He woke up among other children. They were all as scared as he was. Some of them were older, some younger, all as scared as he was. He could hear screams from somewhere outside the bare room he was in. Horrible blood-curdling screams. He sat up against a wall and looked around.

Across from him was a girl his age with brown hair.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Haley.” She said.

“Nice name.”

The door swinging open interrupted him. A Cybrid walked in and lifted him from the floor. He was then taken into another chamber as a teenager left, his head bandaged.

“Hi.” He said.

The boy did not answer and he wondered why.

Then he stopped wondering about the boy as he was strapped into a chair in the centre of the room. It reminded him of a dentist’s chair that he had seen in photographs taken before the Devastation.

He looked round the room and he started to sob as he saw the instruments hung on the walls.

Then another Cybrid walked in and it began.

/ < / << /