High Plains Cyborg

by Honey Phillips

  “Stay here,” a low deep voice rumbled, sending a not unpleasant shiver through her body.

  He stepped forward and even though she had been surrounded by a crowd of men only moments before, suddenly she had breathing room. He grabbed the two men who had been in front of her and knocked their heads together with casual, brutal ease. Both men collapsed to the ground. Another pair of men went flying, then another, and within minutes, the riot had subsided. At least twenty men were lying bleeding and bruised on the ground and silence had descended over the crowd.

  Her rescuer turned back in her direction and she couldn’t hide her expression of shock. He looked even bigger from this side, the seams of his shirt straining across a broad chest and his worn black pants clinging to immense thighs. All she could see of his face was a strong jaw, a straight nose, and a firm mouth, but that was not the source of her surprise. Behind heavy dark glasses, she caught a gleam of red. No man had eyes like that.

  He opened his mouth to speak and light caught the tarnished gold star on his chest. Fuck. A Ranger. His strength and his ability to handle the rioting men suddenly made sense. They had been advised on the trip that the cyborgs Earth Government had utilized in the initial phases of the settlement were still on the planet. They had been granted legal powers and served as the main source of law and order. The briefing had also been quite clear that they were dangerous and should be avoided unless absolutely necessary.

  She thought she saw something flicker across his face as he took in her expression, but she decided she must have been mistaken. Everyone knew cyborgs were no better than robots, all human emotions removed during the process that turned them into what they were—workers, weapons, machines to be used as the government saw fit.

  Something that felt almost like pain flickered through C-487 at the familiar horror on the face of the small male but he dismissed the notion. Pain was not an emotion; pain was lying on a lab table while a group of scientists discussed which parts of his body were worth saving. Pain was hearing that his eyes no longer functioned. Pain was feeling the nanites invading his bloodstream, turning him from a man into a machine.

  Making a note to run diagnostics later, he turned to the crowd of subdued settlers. All of the men who had attempted to jump the line were sprawled on the ground around him and he took a quick survey. Injured but not dead. He paid no further attention to them.

  “You may proceed to register. No more than five people at a time within the office.” He looked down the line. Very few of them dared to meet his eyes. “Do not attempt to modify your place in line. I do not like line-jumpers.” He gestured at the nearby bodies.

  To his surprise, he caught a small startled laugh from the male he had rescued. He was still not quite sure what had driven him to protect the youngster, but he told himself that he simply did not want to deal with another body.

  The boy pulled his hat further down over his ears, then straightened his shoulders and got back into position behind the first two settlers. C-487 saw him wince as he moved and once again an unexpected flare of something that felt a lot like anger went through him.

  He had always felt driven to protect those weaker than himself. It was one of the things that had driven him to join the military after his sister died. That and the fact that it was one of the few jobs on Earth with a guarantee that one would be fed, clothed, and housed. Unfortunately, e had not realized that the price would be so high.

  The door to the Claims Office opened and Smith poked out a cautious head.

  “All clear?”

  All of the travelers to Mars had to pass a fitness test and he couldn't help but wonder how exactly Smith had managed to pass the test. A tall, thin man with a balding head, he didn’t look capable of doing more than lifting his paperwork.

  “Yes. You may begin,” he ordered.

  The first five settlers shuffled forward, including the boy, and although he had intended to stay outside and keep an eye on the crowd, he found himself following him into the small office.

  Smith shivered and hurried back behind his desk, turning up the heat in an already overheated room. C-487 automatically adjusted his body temperature but he noticed that the settlers looked uncomfortably warm. All of them except his little male took off their outer garments. The boy remained huddled in his cheap thermal coat, even though C-487 could see strip of face between his hat and collar turning pink.

  “Remove your garments before you faint,” he ordered, striding over to the small figure and pulling off his hat. Fuck. Her hat. He looked down into a pair of indignant brown eyes and an emotion he thought had been drilled out of him many years ago suddenly resurfaced. Mine.

  Jo stared up at the cyborg in baffled amazement. Why was he being so bossy? And why would he care about whether or not she was too hot? She had to admit that removing the hat had helped. A blush rose to her cheeks despite the heat already infusing them with color. All of the other men were staring at her too. Her cyborg made a growling noise and stepped in front of her, then removed his own hat. After a brief pause, the other men followed suit.

  “Um, can we get started?” the weedy looking man behind the desk asked, with a nervous look at the cyborg.

  “Proceed.”

  One of the first two settlers looked at her, then at the Ranger. “Would you like to go first?”

  “No! I mean, you were here first.”

  He hesitated, then nodded and turned to the clerk, reeling out the coordinate for his chosen parcel. Nowhere near hers, thank goodness. The clerk nodded, registered the claim, then issued a ticket to be exchanged for the initial set of equipment provided by the government. She knew a few of the passengers on the ship planned to purchase additional materials, but she had no extra money and the government supplies were all she would have to live on.

  The second settler’s plot was also in another sector. Finally, it was her turn and she stepped up to the desk.

  “Plot 1080-3B, please.”

  The man drew it up on the map, then gave her a worried look. “Are you sure? This is at least a two-hour drive from New Arcadia, and I don't expect to see a lot of interest in that area.”

  “That’s fine.”

  It was, in fact, one of the things that had attracted her to the land. No close neighbors meant little chance for trouble. Although no one had made an advance on her, now that Nicky had left, she was extremely conscious of the fact that she was a lone female amongst a number of males.

  The clerk shook his head but began filling out the records. “I assume this is for a double claim? What is the other name?”

  For a moment, she was almost tempted to give him Nicky’s name. The extra land would be nice, and it might even help him out if the officials discovered he had abandoned the Homestead program for the power plants. But she refused to take the chance of having everything taken from her if the deception was uncovered.

  “Just one plot. In my name.”

  “Who will protect you?”

  The deep voice startled her, and she jumped. Her cyborg was standing next to her, frowning down with that intimidating red glare. And yet, she didn’t feel threatened. She had the oddest urge to smooth away his frown.

  “I’m quite capable of protecting myself.”

  She pulled back the side of her coat to reveal the holster of her gun. He stared at the gap in her clothing and a rush of heat swept over her when she realized that he was studying her body rather than the weapon. She quickly pulled her coat closed and watched as he finally dragged his gaze away.

  “Do you know how to use that?”

  “Of course. I’ve had over a hundred hours of training.” All of it on the ship’s virtual range, of course, but he didn’t need to know that.

  For a second she thought he was about to speak, but he merely inclined his head and stepped back. The rest of the registration was completed quickly, and the clerk handed her the documents she would need to pick up her supplies.

  “You can get them any time in the next five days,
but I wouldn’t wait too long,” he said with a wry smile. “Things have been known to go missing.”

  “I won’t wait,” she promised. “I’ll go this morning.”

  “I will escort you,” the cyborg said.

  “You don’t need to do that.” She raised her chin. “I know where the supply depot is located. And besides, don’t you need to stay here and watch over the crowd?”

  He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then gave a curt nod and strode out of the Claims Office.

  She stared after the departing cyborg, resisting a sudden urge to call him back.

  You don't need him, she reminded herself. It only makes you weak when you start depending on others. Firming her chin, she pulled her hat down over her head again, buttoned her coat, and started off in the direction of the supply depot.

  The large building at the edge of the town appeared to be deserted. Apparently, the other settlers weren’t quite as ready to leave. Following the instructions on the sign, she punched her name into the computer terminal, then paced impatiently, too restless to take a seat in the small waiting area.

  “Jo Taylor,” the supply master called, and she stepped forward eagerly.

  A stocky older man with a grizzled face, he looked from his list to her face, then back again. “Jo Taylor?” he repeated doubtfully.

  “Yes, that's me.”

  “Is this a mistake? It says here you have registered for a single claim.”

  “That’s right.”

  He gave her another doubtful look, then shook his head. “Reckon you know what you’re doing.” He led her over to one side of the big warehouse. “This is your personal rover. You stick it out for five years and it’s yours to keep. Make sure you keep the bearings free of sand and it will last that long without any problem. The sled contains all of the supplies promised in the brochure. You did study the brochure, right?”

  “Of course, I did.” She walked around the packed sled, pointing out the various packages. “This is the shelter and the solar panels. The hydroponic system is in there, plus the lichen spores. Air mattress and furnishings, initial food supplies, and the Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generator for heating and power.”

  “Don't forget. You gotta start—”

  “—the hydroponic garden right away. I know the food supplies aren’t intended to last more than a few months.”

  He laughed. “Reckon you’ll do, girlie. Want me to hold this for you while you say your goodbyes?”

  “No need,” she said as cheerfully as possible. “I'm ready to go.”

  She had already picked up the small bag containing all of her worldly possessions. Reaching into it, she grabbed the small nose mask that provided supplemental oxygen and pushed it into place. The initial terraforming efforts had raised the atmospheric pressure to the point where suits were no longer required, but humans still required supplemental oxygen. She had read that the cyborgs didn't require them and for a moment her mind flashed back to that tall, broad figure.

  “Airlock over there,” the supply master said, recalling her mind to the present. He pointed to the rear of the building, then offered her his hand. “Good luck, girlie.”

  Startled but unexpectedly touched, she gave him a shaky smile and shook his hand. “Thank you.”

  She maneuvered her way through the airlock and onto the rocky surface feeling unexpectedly buoyant. The feeling lasted the entire trip and it wasn’t until she reached her new home, that the impact of what she was taking on really sank in. She pulled the rover to a stop in front of the rocky ledge she had chosen to be the back wall of her new home and stepped out onto her land. Her land. Ahead of her, the landscape sprawled out in a vast expanse of orange and gold desert, interspersed with strange rock outcroppings scoured by the prevailing winds, and topped by a pale orange sky. Behind her, the land rose sharply into a craggy mountain range. To others it might have looked lonely, but after a lifetime cooped up in tiny rooms, always surrounded by people, by buildings, by the constant chaos of life on Earth, she could see the beauty and serenity in the desolate landscape.

  With a smile on her face, she started to unpack the sled. By the time the pale sun was setting over the horizon, she was tired, dirty, and every muscle of her body ached. It was a good thing that Mars’ gravity was so much lower than Earth’s she thought with a grimace. Even though she had studied the instructions multiple times, she hadn’t accounted for the amount of sheer physical labor that was required in assembling everything. But that only added to her feeling of satisfaction as she stepped back and surveyed her accomplishments.

  The initial shelter was in place—an inflatable dome held in place by a framework of Martian iron. Tomorrow she would assemble the interconnected dome to house the hydroponic system. If she had been able to afford them, she would also have purchased a third dome and two of the goats they were breeding for life on Mars, but she would have to wait until she received the small government stipend at the end of her first year before expanding her holdings. In the meantime, she would make do with what she had.

  With a tired sigh, she entered her airlock and removed her breathing mask. Too exhausted to do more than eat half a protein bar, she adjusted the RTG to provide enough heat to combat the freezing overnight temperatures, laid down on the mattress in the small sleeping alcove, and was asleep before the sky turned completely dark.

  On a ridge overlooking the new claim, C-487 watched as the lights dimmed in the small shelter. As soon as the majority of the settlers had registered their claims, he had headed for his horse. Not the actual animals but rather mechanical simulations, horses were faster than the rovers and made it easier to travel over a wide variety of terrain. He had reached her claim by mid-afternoon and it had taken all of his will power not to go down and assist her as she struggled through the assembly of her dwelling. She had made it clear that she wanted to proceed on her own and he would allow her that—for now.

  But even as he turned his horse back to town, he was already thinking of ways in which he could assist her. She was his to protect and this time, he would not fall down on that duty.

  Chapter Three

  It was the quiet that woke Jo from a confused dream involving the cyborg and an absence of clothing. On Earth there was a constant buzz of noise from too many people living too close to each other. On the ship, it had been the constant hum of the engines along with more people crammed into a small space. And even after they arrived in New Arcadia, there had been the other settlers in the transient hotel, along with the noises of the town itself. But now she was alone, the only person for miles around, and outside of her shelter nothing disturbed the surrounding desert. The silence was both peaceful and slightly nerve-wracking, but this was her life now and she would just have to get used to it.

  The weak Martian sunlight was already setting the transparent portions of her shelter aglow. Time to get to work. She had stripped down to a tank and panties for sleeping and she grimaced as she went to pull on her dusty outdoor clothing. Getting the water drill working was next on her list. As soon as that was working, she would have access to water for drinking and bathing and she could set up the shelter for her hydroponic garden. After a quick protein bar and a few sips from one of her precious bottles of water, she donned her coat and mask and headed outside.

  As she began unpacking the supplies for the drill and the second shelter, she took a moment to look out over her land, appreciating the subtle colors as the sunlight began to illuminate the rocky ground. Scanning the horizon, she saw a lone figure on top of a rocky outcrop—one that looked for all the world like a cowboy astride a horse. A horse, here?

  She blinked and shook her head. When she looked back, the figure was gone. She must have been imagining it, based on her dream about the cyborg. Would she ever see him again, she wondered? She knew that some of the Rangers were assigned to patrol the territory surrounding New Arcadia—maybe he would come out to check on her. Her pulse fluttered at the idea before she firmly pushed it aside. She
was here to make a home for herself, not to get lost in lustful dreams about someone who was more machine than man.

  Assembling the water drill turned out to be more complicated than she had anticipated but she forced herself to read each instruction twice and finally succeeded in putting it together. She gave it a satisfied look before turning to decide on the best location for the device. Once it was in place, it would drill down through the soil until it reached the ice pack underlying much of the Martian soil. From there, it would convert the ice into water and pump it back up for her to use.

  Eventually she decided that the side of the ridge closest to her shelter would be most convenient and began moving it into position, once again grateful for the low gravity that allowed her to move the heavy device.

  “You don’t want it there.”

  A startled yell escaped her lips as she spun to face the owner of the voice, her hand going instinctively to her gun belt—or where her gun belt would have been if she had remembered to put it on that morning. Her cyborg cowboy stood there, frowning as he followed her movement.

  “Where is your weapon?”

  “I… I didn’t think it was necessary,” she said defiantly. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

  “Which is precisely why you should be wearing it,” he pointed out. “You should be armed at all times.”

  “You mean in case someone decides to sneak up on me?”

  “I did not sneak. I rode in.”

  He nodded at his horse, except it wasn’t an actual horse. Rather a collection of rusted-looking metal pieces was assembled into a robotic representation of the animal. She had never seen one of the increasingly rare beasts on Earth of course, but she had always loved old books about horses. It stood patiently behind him, and she could have sworn that its eyes studied her face.