The Edge of Darkness

Chapter Eleven: Carpe Diem (Part II)

Stewart fairly tossed him into the office chair as I closed my chest plate and went to find some water to throw on his face. I didn't relish that task too much, really, I swear. The professor spluttered from the sudden shock of cold and wet and opened his eyes.

"Hi." I waved at him. Then he was suddenly catapulted backwards as his legs began to work against the hard concrete floor, skidding away from me. Stewart reacted quickly and brought him back. I put my hands on my hips.

"Now, professor, what exactly is it you research here?"

"I thought it was a prank," he babbled. "The others just recently found out I was starting to concentrate on hybridisation of animals and machines. I gave a bunny rabbit wheels for back legs. It is so much faster now that any normal bunny."

"James," I said sharply, and he jumped. "Take a deep breath and calm down. Are you already working on hybridizing humans and machines?"

His eyes widened again and his vehement denial was breathless. "No! I wouldn't dream of applying my research to humans! Not healthy, seemingly faculty correct humans such as yourself... Meg, was it?"

"Max," I said curtly. "But would you dream of applying this technology to humans?"

He nodded slowly. "But only to the unfortunate – the disabled – to help them better their lives."

"In the future, James, the technology is applied to anyone whose family will sign them over to the Corporation. Only two things are required: to be mortally injured, and even that I'm sceptical about, and that they serve the Corporation for twenty years. I was in hospital for a day before my parents, immigrants speaking English as a second language, signed me over to the Corporation. I was hit by a car. I was hurt, sure – broken limbs, concussion. I don't think I was dying. I think the Corporation was taking advantage of the sick and injured in hospitals to boost their slave numbers. Slaves that came about because of your technology. Don't you see? The entire cyborg race came about because of this research." He began to shake his head and interrupt but I kept talking. "This may not be what you have in mind for the future, but it's what's happened. You need to stop. Don't invent cyborgs. We're better off not existing."

"I... Max, I never..."

"I know you haven't done it yet," I said gently. "But you will. So please, for the sake of hundreds of thousands of lives, stop this research."

His mouth worked like a goldfish, opening and shutting without making a sound. Then he found his voice. "I've already been commissioned to complete the research."

"Then hand them the money back," I suggested tartly.

"It's my job," he pleaded, his eye bright. "It's my livelihood. It's how I support my family."

"What family?" Stewart snorted.

"The family I'm going to have one day," he said, glaring at the guard, who shrugged nonchalantly.

I sighed. "Look, Professor: the Authorities wanted to kill me because I happen to be pregnant. In the future, cyborgs are worse than slaves: we're not allowed to bear children or raise them, we're not seen as human or to have souls even though I clearly am and do. I'm sacrificing my family, my husband and my child, to save millions of people from a life of misery, or second class citizen status. I want to stop them from being experimented on and tortured and starved and torn apart limb from limb just to see if they'll survive; or as a punishment for transgressing rules that stipulate we're not allowed to make physical contact with each other." I pushed my face closer to his, and he twisted away from my red optic. "Have you any idea how hard that is? To be a human and not be allowed to touch anyone, ever. It's worse than heartbreaking – it's soul shattering. It's the making of insanity."