0103

by Jessie Rose Case

  It hadn’t taken the predators long to find them after they’d arrived. A bit of luck meant the landing hadn’t been in their main migration trails or feeding grounds. Had it been, 0103 wasn’t sure any of them would have survived those first few weeks. As it was, they’d lost a couple of men to injuries and they’d gone back in stasis. The security field had been an urgency they couldn’t put off. Men had been put on guard to fight off any thing that got too close after that. Everyone was put to work and the perimeter fence went up soon after offering security for the ship and their growing animals.

  The predators still came looking for a quick meal but from that point forward, they had the fence to deal with and gun emplacements on each post to ward them off. It made Cyborg lives easier. They had information on who or what they were. One was 9ft in height with large teeth and claws that held a poison. They’d found out quickly it could be deadly if not dealt with immediately. The large hog like creatures were half their size but you didn’t want to get caught with those tusks or charged by a 5ft bull. They appeared to live in harmony, each avoiding the other’s territory, unless there was a chance of a free meal. Then it was everyone for themselves.

  They’d found the large beast hides beautiful and warm, and they’d appreciated them out in the tundra in winters adding a layer of protection and warmth that was needed. Cyborgs they could regulate their heat, but the winters in this new world were a challenge even to them.

  If they saw the beasts, they did their best to ignore them. And over time, the beasts understood to leave the ship area alone if they wanted to survive.

  A couple of generations in, they’d got the hint. They weren’t stupid and left the complex alone. Even so, when the winter season was bad, and food was short. Then all bets were off. They’d be coming and the perimeter boundary was upped from stun to kill to prevent it being continually attacked with a chance that it would fail.

  They, and then only he, couldn’t allow that to happen. His men were dependant on him to survive. At first it had all been about the mission. Then as his men needed to go back into stasis it was about protecting them. They needed him, and he had to survive at all costs. In stasis didn’t mean they didn’t need checking on or their nutrients changed every 4 or 5 decades. It might now be automated but, he felt it to be right to check.

  Those first years had been a steep learning curve for all of them. Having fusion energy had provided them with an energy source that would last a very long time, but it wasn’t infinite. Solar energy gave them a bit more. He had to calculate that into everything he did. There was no telling how long it had to last. Being able to charge up systems with reserve resources gave you an advantage when deciding a battle strategy, but it wouldn’t be for long, and other systems would be compromised by it over use or worse, leave him without any.

  It was a delicate balancing act. The predators coming mostly at night, took a vast amount of energy to keep the lights on and the guns ready. Luckily for Cyborgs they didn’t need much sleep. A couple of hours regularly and they were good to go.

  But there was no doubt they’d been caught with their pants down in that first attack. They hadn’t been prepared passed a patrol and security posts. Too confident in their rail guns being able to deal with anything this world had to offer. Sensors hadn’t picked up the beasts body heat when they’d attacked. It took minutes to get the rail guns on line and in that time they’d lost nearly half their young livestock even before they’d realised what was happening. It had been a blow, but their logic had helped them again. Don’t put all your eggs in one basket… So they hadn’t.

  They’d only brought out a third of the stasis nursery and it had served them well. With no visual of the beasts during the day, it was thought they were night dwellers and possibly hid during daylight. Picking up their heat signatures hadn’t been easy either, they seemed to have a natural camouflage. But they’d fought off that first attack, and even with Cyborg speed and their firepower, they hadn’t been able to save them all.

  It was a lesson well learnt. As the attack blew over and Cyborgs took control of the area once more, the perimeter laser fencing was erected. Set to kill when the predators were around, all posts had gun emplacements activated by movement, and would remain on standby during the night. The next night was a different story. They’d all waited for the inevitable attack to come again. When it did, it was a different outcome. Cyborg reinforced the laser fencing where needed but mainly, the post gun emplacements dealt with most of the attack. A few nights of that and they had something similar to hog roast for months. The bigger beasts were another matter entirely. They took their own dead.

  Three months later that first seasons winter came, and everything was far deadlier. They’d had to keep close to camp and exploring was stopped altogether.

  Summer had turned to a cool and pleasant autumn. Far better than on Old Earth in the northern hemisphere and then the winter hit hard. Overnight the temperatures dropped, and drifts of snow and ice came in. Their new stock not ready for that had been brought inside and pens were created for them in the landing bay.

  It was just as well. Five nights later and the first winter attack came. He’d watched with the others on the scanners they’d set up on the perimeter. Their diagnostics on the probabilities being high they’d been prepared this time. The largest beasts came first, walking through the open ground that had been cleared around the ship. They tested the perimeter guns. Looking for a way in. But didn’t find any and resorted to charging it. Some got through. It would hold against a great many things but full on 9ft beasts battering it… no one could predict the outcome of that, and they weren’t about to wait and find out. Taking up arms, they joined with the automated weapons and opened fire.

  As soon as it was clear they’d had enough, the guns and been put on standby once more and they watched, as those they’d put down were carried off by their own kind or torn apart right there. Some had got a meal after all. Just not what they’d first intended. By the end of that first winter, they knew exactly what to expect and what predators existed on their new world.

  One or the other or both would come around every few days looking for weaknesses. Those smaller hogs, with huge tusks would rake along the perimeter ground, testing the guns almost like they were watching for their movement following their path. They might have been smaller, but they could hold their own against the 9ft beasts. Cyborgs continued to patrol regulating their body heat to compensate the hashish of weather. And slowly winter turned to spring, and they’d brought out their nursery once more under heavy security and the next generation from stasis and started planting seed. At that point, they still believed in the mission. The colonists would be coming.

  Like everyone else, he’d taken his orders from the troop commander. He was their medic and second in command. Establishing their settlement had to be the priority. He had no idea if any of them would survive the next winter, but logic told them they had to be prepared for it. Days passed and his medic training became more and more needed. Damage to Cyborgs wasn’t easy to achieve. They could take a great deal of it and still continue to function. But the unknown territory came with its own dangers. Injuries happened and he had to put another 7 back in stasis over the coming weeks to save them. Each one a felt loss.

  Then Cyborg derogation started to set in. And slowly, one after another Cyborg, showed faults in their programming. Actions became difficult, logic flawed. He’d had to shut a few off to stop them harming themselves or others and put them back into stasis too. It was another blow to all of them. A possible premonition of what was to come. And suddenly, the colony ship arriving became essential. Concerns over mission objectives when the actual event might never happen set in. Logic continued to remind them of what their mission was and the high probability of failure as time went on. The more time, the higher the possible rate of failure. It was a constant reminder in all their minds. He watched as magnificent Cyborg specimens who had survived a brutal creation, started to exhibit
human problems. Signs of distress and hopelessness. Even with their emotions turned off. And they too had to go back into stasis.

  As the years and decades passed, physical deterioration set in. Joints freezing. Impulses failing. Working capabilities dropped below safe levels and more went back into stasis. Each one seemed a personal blow. He couldn’t prevent the damage or fix it. And eventually, the commander was all that was left with him. It was clear what was coming, and they’d made preparations for it. Stacking the nutrients and relays directly to the computer to automatic. Should they both fail those in stasis had a chance to go on. They reduced the animal stock that had thrived, stored what they could in a frozen part of the ship created by adapting the Cryogenic freeze from stasis. Stocked up on food sources and collected seeds and froze them too. Putting a safety programme in place should no Cyborg life signs show within 24 hrs, the security fencing around the animals would be opened and they would all go free. They’d chosen the only direction that had no main predators and hoped, they’d given them at least a chance of survival.

  For longer than 0103 would have liked, the troop commander carried on. A sense that he didn’t want to leave him alone persisted, beyond logic and common sense. In great pain, he carried on unable to turn his pain receptors off any more. His mind active but his body failing. And in the end, it was the medics decision that over ruled the command structure and the commander, reluctantly went back into stasis too.

  And then he was alone.

  For days after, his routine kept him going. His logic told him he needed to structure his days. Being alone could be harmful without mental stimulation and the ability to make progress. So he created a new structure to live by.

  His system loaded necessity in order. Everything according to urgency or need. He didn’t question it. Just took it for what it was. His new life. Survival. What would keep him alive. Having no time frame, he had to work with what he had. He knew he would live for decades mores, centuries even. 71 Years and no sign of the colony he didn’t know how many more he would be alone for. But he knew the odds on the colony coming now were non-existent and he had to accept that and move on and hope, someone else would find them.

  The animals needed him in the mornings, then he could use their waste to fertilise the soil, dig out irrigation, weed or plant a new crop. From there he’d washed up and taken his own nourishment. Worked on the ship and checked on his men. Then trained. A Cyborg needed to be in optimum condition. 100% Fit in both physical health and logical programming. His programming demanded it even though he continued to be unable to maintain it. It was how he was made. His data providing exactly what he needed to do to achieve it but still it eluded him. 0103 Didn’t understand it but chose instead to live with it.

  Setting a regular route, he checked the boundary as part of his run. Followed by gym work. Gun maintenance. A sleep cycle every other day. Medical research for his men and special projects; such as working on an alternative fuel system. Analysing the world around him for resources. Expanding and boosting the communications system. Recording a log each day, so he could summarise his work and progress in the hope that someone somewhere, might someday hear it. Boosting it out into space someday had become a major goal.

  How far it would go was incalculable. There were too many variants and not enough data to go on to predict the outcome. But having a communications device that worked would provide a much-needed boost to their chances of survival and being found.

  It became an obsession. From their very early days on the surface, it was clear that the orbital relay was broken on the ship. They’d worked on improving it and getting a signal out but without the right equipment, they’d been plenty of failures and it had still needed more work.

  Everything had a place in this new world, including him. Spring moved into summer once more and soon another season was done, and he had food to store.

  With more frozen storage space than he knew what to do with. And as a new generation of his livestock were born, some went into stasis for the unexpected, others thrived. There were no guarantees on this new world, preparation was everything.

  For a Cyborg who had a need to control his environment it what exactly what he needed to bridge data with the unknown. It was logical that he too had to adapt and evolve as the world around him did. To know and understand what he needed to know. How things worked. To have the data to make decisions that would help him survive. And one piece of logic continued to stand out. There was no hiding it. No one was coming to bail him and his brothers out.

  In those early years, it was clear the colony ship was well past due. Something had to have happened to it. There was no other logical answer. And if that first ship was lost or abandoned, it was doubtful the contracted supply ships would ever be coming either. And they hadn’t.

  Had the colony arrived on time, they’d have seen a supply ship three years after colonisation and every five after that for 20 more years. None had come. Earth Corp wasn’t in the habit of wasting resources, but they’d appeared to let this go. To abandon them all. Logic told him it probably cost more to find them than it did to create more Cyborgs. His anger at the waste of it all remained close to the surface. Earth Corp had failed them. He would not fail his brothers.

  The memories and years were never far from the surface. 71 Years and no evidence that anyone was coming. He accepted his fate and duty, he was alone. It was down to him.

  The sun glinted on the horizon drawing his attention. The snows were heavy on the mountains this year. 0103 Turned and headed back to the ship. He hadn’t expected to see anything different anyway.

  Chapter Two

  Donna Priestly stood at the docking ramp and wondered not for the first time if this was really what she wanted to do. The Cyborg Empire had recruited females, empathic females as human liaisons on their ships to work with other worlds and she was one of the first. The Empire were carrying more and more humans and most Cyborgs, just weren’t equipped to deal with them. Not on a personal level anyway. Unless you were their mate and that was a completely different kind of connection and she wasn’t one of them.

  She’d felt the pull to this job from first seeing it advertised. Not that she was sure why and she was always so very sure. Maybe that was it? The uncertainty? That coupled with the fact that she wasn’t the ‘let’s explore’ type, didn’t explain why she’d applied on impulse and to her shock, got the job and took it!

  It was all a little unnerving and way out of her comfort zone. Did she really need this much of a challenge? She sensed the shadow to her right rather than heard him and looked up at a face she knew. One very handsome face. Cyborg. They were all big and strong, the sex off the charts and way too good looking for their own good.

  “You coming female or gonna wave us off?” he taunted. A Cyborg with too many years with too many jocks. Bad habits rubbed off. They were working on that or she was. She shook her head in distain.

  Donna looked back at the ship. “You’re an ass Brok.”

  Grinning, he bent and picked up her kit bag throwing it over his shoulder like it didn’t weight 55lb and stood looking at her.

  “Yep but I’m your ass female for the duration of this trip.” He walked up the ramp calling out over his shoulder. “Don’t make me chase you. I’ve got my orders not to leave your cute ass behind. Get on board we’re leaving.”

  Guess she was going after all ……Donna trudged up the ramp walking into the ship following him.

  Brok was unusual for a Cyborg. He’d been with a human team for several generations before his freedom and by all accounts, they’d treated him like one of their own. Making sure he was free when the call came. The old man of the team although he looked in his med 30s, had been liked and respected. And luckier than most Cyborgs. When the team was disbanded, he’d been packed off to a containment area with several other Cyborgs which was where the Admiral and his team had found them.

  Brok hadn’t suffered the years of abuses once he’d left the Designers that
other Cyborgs had. He knew of how their lives had been though, their shared neuro net given him plenty of insight, but he hadn’t experienced it personally. Even so it would have felt real reliving it, because the shared neuro net shared real experiences. Literally.

  Donna continued to follow him as he moved through the ship. She hadn’t expected it to be so big. Not that she should have expected anything else. Cyborgs did nothing small. This ship could hold over 500 Cyborgs and came with every convenience they could need.

  Brok was a good looking male, they all were in that Cyborg way, but she wasn’t his mate. They no longer looked like a uniformed army. Years of razer cuts with no choice made some chose to leave their hair to grow long or not cut it at all. Others chose to continue to cut it short or shoulder length. Choice was a marvellous thing once you had it and none of it detracted from their clear penetrating eyes, the hard bodies with packed muscle, their size and presence. It was both intimidating and breath-taking at the same time. Like they could swallow you whole and you’d enjoy the ride!

  Donna smiled. What was unusual, was that a Cyborg would flirt with her. Flirt with anyone. Cyborgs didn’t do that. In fact, they were known not too. They didn’t like to touch human people at all and only females that were their mates. No, Brok was different species of Cyborg. It was part of who he was, he’s identity and clearly he liked it that way. He could have purged the behaviour at any time, but he’d chosen to keep it. It was who he was.