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Why was she babbling?What did it matter what they called themselves?She had a name for their leader; that should be enough.In fact, just having a field full of cyborgs who seemed to be willing to help rebuild New Eden should be enough.
“We are cybernetically enhanced humanoids from the former EST-213 terraformed colony.”
She waited for him to continue, to tell her what they called themselves besides cyborg clones.But RH103 remained tight-lipped.
“Cyborgs, then,” Hannah said.
He tilted his head, as if processing her reply.
“We’ll call you cyborgs.Technology experts and Earther-descended Luddites, coexisting and rebuilding.Great.”She looked back at the buildings.Candles flickered in windows with their sashes raised, and a few people had collected on the edges of the ruined street.As she suspected, it appeared that the spaceship’s commotion woke everyone.
No one approached them.Irritation flared in her.What if one of the clones had pulled out a weapon and shot her?She made a mental note to sarcastically thank them for caring about her safety later.
“Do you agree that our resettling here would be ideal?”RH103 asked.
“I’ll still have to run it by the rest of the people.”
He pointed a gloved finger at the assembled crowd that was rapidly growing.“Is this the rest of your people?”
“Yeah, and we have a lot to discuss.”She sighed.“Okay, follow me.Let’s sit down and talk.”
Hannah had workedin an agricultural role long before the quake and kept it up now, replanting fields and trees and keeping the rest of the survivors from starving.She hated being in charge of such an important task and that she couldn’t keep many of their crops from failing.
For once, their dying fields were far from her mind as she led RH103 from his ship’s landing site to the amphitheater.The wrecked streets were illuminated by the others’ candles and torchlight.She didn’t answer many questions from the other residents, except to say, “We’ll talk about it at the amphitheater, and they’re here peacefully,” while hoping she wasn’t making a huge mistake.
Ever since New Eden’s community center, where council meetings had been held, was destroyed in the earthquake, they’d been holding meetings in the amphitheater that once hosted concerts and plays.Its wooden stage was still intact, albeit sagging in parts, boards worn smooth from years of use.Its backdrop was long gone, having collapsed when Hannah was small.In front of the stage were the remains of wooden benches for the audience, now too splintered to sit on.
The amphitheater’s stage was still intact, and she tried to hoist herself up to its edge.Tried, and failed, thanks to sweaty palms and her shorter-than-average height.Before she could walk to one of the sets of stairs on either side of the stage, RH103 held out his gloved hands, as if in offering.She looked at them in surprise before fixing her gaze on his face.“I can help you,” he said, voice quiet.
What the hell?She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake letting him touch her.If nothing else, it might reassure everyone else that he wasn’t dangerous.
What was she thinking?Shedidn’t know if he was dangerous yet, and she’d known him the longest.
But she let him give her a boost, lifting her as if she weighed no more than a feather.He stood next to her, hands clasped behind his back, the way she imagined a soldier would stand at attention.
She surveyed the crowd, recognizing everyone.It looked like all of New Eden’s twenty-one people had gathered, perched in the remaining seats and standing on the ground in front of the stage.Candlelight and torchlight filled the amphitheater in a way that reminded her of the time before the earthquake.She thought back to a play she’d performed in as a teenager, a silly melodramatic thing with a set full of candles.Her parents had been so proud of her.
She closed her eyes, forcing the memory away.This was the worst possible time to fall into the weeds.
Surprisingly, the crowd was quiet.It had to be due to the menacing presence of the cyborg.
Hannah had no idea where to start.She cleared her throat.“This is RH103,” she began.
As if her introduction unleashed the proverbial floodgates, nearly two dozen voices started to ask questions, most of which she couldn’t make out.She stole a glance at RH103, whose expression remained cool and impassive in the light.This close to him, she could see his cheekbones really were as sharp as she’d thought they were when he walked off his spaceship.
“Hey!Cut it out!Let me finish!”she shouted over the din.The voices quieted enough for her to continue.“RH103 and his friends heard our distress signal.”She’d sent it out over two months ago in private, not telling a soul except her best friend, Jasmine it until guilt over holding such a secret got the best of her.She’d told the others not long after, to mixed reactions.
That caught their attention.“They’re here to help us rebuild?”someone called.
Were they?Hannah looked at RH103 again, but he spoke before she could.
“We are here to help,” he said.“But our need for help is mutual.Our terraformed asteroid colony was in the direct path of an ion storm that forced my people to evacuate.We can help you in your recovery efforts in exchange for a place to live.”
Hannah held her breath, waiting for the inevitable shitstorm at that piece of news.
When the cacophony of voices raised—some outraged, some delighted—she sighed and waited for it to die down.
Hannah’s neighbor and best friend, Jasmine Sinclair, forced her way to the front of the group closest to the stage.The sight offered her a small measure of relief and regret.Jasmine was better suited to being in front of a crowd.Hell, she was better suited to being the sort of person who would run toward a mysterious flying object in the middle of the night.If she’d been there instead of Hannah, she would have already charmed the cyborg clones into rebuilding the power grid.
