by Lisa Lace
The street lights shone brilliantly against her windshield, making the drive almost too bright as she turned onto Willow Court. Her father’s house sat at the end of a cul-de-sac. She parked her little sedan on the street where it curved in front of his yard. As she got out of the car, she realized she should have called before coming and checked if he was home.
All the lights were on in the house. It was a stark contrast to the dark atmosphere at her home. Natasha knocked quietly on the door and waited. No one had pulled the weeds from the bedraggled flower beds since her mother passed away four years ago. The shaggy lawn was in desperate need of a mow. Maybe he wouldn’t mind her staying here as long as she offered to help out with household tasks.
Knocking again, Natasha began to worry that he might not be home. Her father had retired six months before, and perhaps he had finally taken up a hobby outside the house. The lights being on didn’t mean he was around. But where else could she go?
As she raised her fist to pound on the door one last time, she heard footsteps approaching. The heavy oak door swung wide on its hinges to reveal her father in a lab coat, goggles pushed back onto his head making a mess of his gray hair. “Natasha! What a surprise! Come in!” He stepped aside and waved her into the living room. “What brings you here?”
She knew that he had noticed the red streaks on her face and her swollen eyelids. Natasha wasn’t pretty when she cried, and she knew it. Fortunately, she didn’t have to be pretty in front of her father.
“Oh, Dad. I can’t believe this is happening to me!” She fell into his arms and told him what happened with Nick while settling onto the couch.
“Don’t worry, my dear. You can stay with me for as long as you need. I have plenty of room!” Neil waved his hand at the house in an attempt to encompass two stories of living space. He only occupied a fraction of it himself. Natasha thought the big house was the perfect size when she was younger. Now she worried that her father spent too much time rambling about it aimlessly.
“Thank you.” Natasha sniffed. She had been strong at first and felt like she was ready to face her cheating husband like any other challenge in life. But on the drive over she realized that Nick was not a cyborg who didn’t understand why he couldn’t shoot his way out of a problem. Her situation with Nick was something far more personal. “I don’t mean to be a burden on you, but I didn’t know where else I could go.”
“There’s no other place you should go. I’m euphoric to have you here with me again, although I wish it were for different reasons.” His goggles had started to slide down his forehead, and he pushed them back. Neil shook his head, making his silvery hair tremble around his skull. “I thought something like this might happen, but I refuse to say that I told you so. Now, how about a hot cup of tea?”
By the time Neil returned from the kitchen, Natasha had kicked off her sneakers and curled onto the couch. “Dad, I need to know something.” She gratefully accepted the hot mug from her father. “Why do men cheat?”
“Mostly because they’re idiots.” Neil took a sip from his cup. “It’s too hot. I wish I had a good answer for you. But I can’t say that I ever cheated on your mother, or even had the inclination. She was a wonderful woman.” He looked wistfully up at the ceiling. “I sure miss her.”
“Me, too.” Natasha laid her head on her father’s shoulder as she stared off into space, wondering what her mother would have told her to do. Would she say to work things out with her husband and preserve the marriage? As she thought about the possibilities, Natasha knew her mother wouldn’t have done such a thing. Her mother had been more practical than sentimental. She would have sat down with a pen and paper and generated a list of their next steps.
“Dad?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why are you wearing a lab coat?” It hadn’t seemed odd at first, but Natasha had realized that her father was wearing something he would have worn to work before Cyborg Sector shut down. It was getting late. He should have been wearing an old t-shirt and slippers.
“Hmm? There’s definitely a reason.” Neil looked down as though seeing himself for the first time. “I was working on a few things around the house, you know. I thought it would be a good idea to protect my everyday clothing.”
Natasha cast a critical eye on her father. “I love you, Dad, but I don’t believe you’re wearing that outfit to clean the bathroom. What’s going on here? Did you get a different job somewhere else and forget to tell me about it?”
Neil sighed and shook his head. He ran his hand through his hair, knocking his goggles off onto the couch in the process. He picked them up nervously and held them in his hands. “I do have a few things that I’m working on. But I’m not cleaning the bathroom, and I don’t have another job. It’s hard to explain, to be honest.” Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead, and he wiped them off with the edge of his sleeve.
“It’s okay, Dad. You can tell me.” Natasha had worried constantly about her father once she knew he would no longer have a job. He loved his family and was a devoted parent and husband, but science was his life. Natasha had been concerned about how well he would adjust to normal life just like she worried about the cyborgs every day.
He looked at Natasha with sad brown eyes and hollow cheeks. “I suppose I can. If I can tell anyone without being judged, it’s you.” He set his mug aside and rose from the couch, extending a hand and helping Natasha to her feet. “I don’t think you’re going to like it.”
Natasha followed her father through the house as he led her to the basement door. He began speaking without turning to look at her as they descended the stairs. “When I found out I was going to lose my job, I was devastated. It wasn’t about the money, and I realized over time that it wasn’t even about having a sense of usefulness in the world. I’ve already made my contributions to science. My problems were curiosity and scientific drive. I had the urge to know more and to do more. I couldn’t stop myself.” He reached the bottom of the stairs and finally looked Natasha in the eyes. “I hope you understand that.”
As Neil flicked on the lights, Natasha took in the scene before her. The basement was unfinished, with the floor joists low above their heads. The concrete floor had been swept clean, but several fresh spider webs clung to the corners of the room. On her right was a stack of random cardboard boxes from the liquor store, each carefully labeled to indicate its contents. Long workbenches ran across two sides of the room, completely covered with loose wires and capacitors. In the middle of everything was an open laptop, its bright screen illuminating the room.
So that’s why it took him so long to answer the door, Natasha thought. He was working down here.
Natasha was instantly happy to see that her father had found a way to continue staying active. He could happily spend his retirement building robots or developing electronics. But then she saw something that sent a shudder through her entire body, weakening her muscles even more than they already had been from her ordeal earlier that evening. “Dad, tell me I’m wrong. Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
In the far corner, a familiar-looking clear box stood between the workbenches and a stack of cardboard cartons. Natasha had seen a box like that before, but not in real life. It had been on the news or in training videos before she went to work at the Rehabilitation Center. A hulking male figure stood inside the box, connected to hoses and wires. He was tall and bulky, like a character out of a superhero comic. Even though his eyes were closed, he flexed his muscles like he was ready for a fight. The door of each cyborg cage had a small nameplate with an alphanumeric designation. This nameplate had been scratched out. The word “Fury” was written above it in a stranger’s handwriting.
“Are you making your own cyborgs?” she whispered. She couldn’t believe her father would participate in illegal activities.
“Not exactly. Fury was already a cyborg before he came here, but they were going to terminate him. I’d been working on him for a long time, and I didn’t want to see
my work wasted. I brought him home.” Neil had been behind her, but he repositioned himself to stand between Natasha and the cyborg. “I’m sure I can adjust his programming.”
Natasha’s organs seemed to be vibrating inside of her. “Why were they going to terminate him?”
“He doesn’t always follow orders. On his last assignment, he wasn’t supposed to kill anyone, but he ended up leaving a trail of bodies. He seems to lose track of his priorities when he’s in an unfamiliar situation. But I’m sure these are things I can fix. It didn’t seem right to incinerate him when he has a chance at a normal life like the other cyborgs.” Neil gazed proudly at his creation.
“You just stole him? Dad, Cyborg Sector will put you in jail if they find out.”
Neil waved his hands at her in a placating gesture. “I know. But I’ll have him repaired before he can ever become a problem. When I’m not working on him, I keep him sedated in the holding cell.”
Natasha shook her head. It had been a long day, and she wasn’t in the mood to argue with him, especially since she knew he wouldn’t listen to her. Her father believed he could help this cyborg, and she had no choice but to believe in him, too. “I’m going to bed.”
Chapter Five
Staying with her father was a pleasant retreat from real life. Natasha’s morning routine was the same. She still got up and went to work every day, but when she came home it was a different experience. For the first time in a long time, it felt like she could finally relax. Neil had a massive supply of frozen food in his kitchen, which she only needed to heat up to magically prepare dinner. It seemed like she was cheating life, but pre-prepared meals were much easier than trying to decide what to make. When they sat at the table and discussed their days, he only asked her about Nick occasionally.
One Wednesday morning, her father didn’t come down for breakfast. Natasha gave him time while she styled her hair and applied makeup. Sometimes he didn’t sleep well, and it wasn’t like he had to keep a strict schedule. When she was ready for work and had warmed up a cinnamon roll for each of them, she decided to go back up the stairs and knock softly on his door.
“Dad? I’m going to have to leave for work soon. Are you getting up today?” There was no reply. “Dad?”
With a feeling of dread in her heart, Natasha pushed open the door and peeked inside. Neil was in bed, sleeping peacefully. She crossed the room to leave a kiss on his cheek when she saw that his skin was an unusual color. His cheek felt cold against the back of her hand when she reached out to check his temperature.
“Dad!” Natasha fumbled with his wrist as she searched for a pulse, but his hand was limp and unresponsive. His chest in his old striped pajama top was still.
Her throat tightened around her trachea, nearly cutting off her breath. Natasha couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She trudged out of the room and down the stairs, stumbling her way through the hall to find a phone and call 911.
Everyone said the funeral was peaceful. Natasha didn’t know how to compare one funeral to another. She couldn’t stop thinking about the heavy wooden casket and the dark satin lining it. In her memory, she recalled large displays of flowers and wreaths sent by former coworkers. Repetitive music played in the background as the preacher spoke. An uncountable number of people had lined up to shake her hand or give her a hug.
None of it had meant anything to her because her father wasn’t coming back.
Many people had told Natasha how good her father looked in his coffin. She had nodded and given small smiles because it seemed like the thing to do, but their comments made her want to scream. How good could he look when he was dead? He had died in his sleep, and he would never again smile or put his arm around her. Her father had been the only person in the world on her side. Now she had no one.
Natasha had stayed at the cemetery until the very last bit of dirt was pushed over her father’s grave. The gravediggers laid a large blue blanket over the burial site to keep the soil in place until it settled. She was the last person to leave the site, choosing to drive herself home instead of renting a limousine as the funeral director had suggested.
When she arrived at her father’s house, the sound of the key in the lock made a loud, grating noise in her ears. The soft squeak of the door and the sound of her heels on the living room floor were like echoes in a canyon. The house was empty now without its owner.
Without removing the painful shoes or bothering to change out of the expensive black dress she had purchased just for the occasion, Natasha wandered through the house as though seeing it for the first time. She studied every framed picture on the wall. The grade school photos, snapshots of her parents when they were dating, and pictures from their wedding made her feel like she was walking through a time warp.
Natasha ran her hands over the afghan on the back of the couch that her mother crocheted and opened the china cabinet to reveal a set of elegant teacups. She noticed for the first time in her life that her father had dedicated the main living area of the house to her mother’s tastes. Neil had been content to let his wife have whatever she wanted for the house, as long as his books were on a shelf in the library. He had a laboratory in the basement and hadn’t changed a single thing since his wife had passed away.
A knock on the door startled Natasha out of her reverie. She had already seen everyone she knew today and had been sent home with several casseroles and cakes, so she wasn’t expecting any company. She stalked across the room, angry at being disturbed while she grieved.
The man on the stoop was tall and wiry, with blonde hair and a lazy grin. His blue eyes glittered with sympathy as he looked down at her and braced his body against the door frame with a tattooed arm.
“What are you doing here, Nick?” Natasha wondered how much more of her energy could be drained from her body before she simply keeled over and died.
“I heard about what happened to your Dad. I didn’t know about the funeral until it was too late to come, but I wanted to check on you. Why didn’t you tell me?” He started to take a step inside, but Natasha didn’t move back to make room for him.
Many reasons, Natasha thought. Because I didn’t want to deal with you, and I still don’t. Because I had more important things on my mind than some asshole who cheated on me with his employee. You would use my vulnerability as leverage against me.
“I’ve been busy.”
“But I’m your husband, Tasha. You should have let me help you. I could have planned everything and supported you. It’s a shame that you had to do everything alone.” Nick managed to take a full step and was now towering over her. He would knock her down with another movement.
Natasha didn’t want anyone’s sympathy. “That’s all right. I have everything taken care of.” She folded her arms across the bodice of her dress, unwilling to back down and hoping to convey her feelings with her body language. She met Nick’s stare with venom in her eyes, but he didn’t seem intimidated by her in the least.
“Well, I’m here to take care of you now.” He put his hands on Natasha’s upper arms, rubbing them up and down in a gesture he thought was comforting. “Let’s start by getting you out of those uncomfortable clothes.”
“Nick, I’m not in the mood for this.”
“That’s okay, baby. I can get you in the mood. You know how good we are together.” His body was pressed against her now, and he pinned her in place with his arms. “All you have to do is tell me where you want to do it. Your old bedroom? Right here in the living room?” He kicked the front door shut behind him.
“Let go of me!” Natasha shoved him away, but he moved back immediately and bent down to kiss her. She could smell the liquor on his breath. The thought of kissing someone who had been so awful to her made her want to retch. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Natasha pushed him harder than before, making him crash into the door.
“Damn. You’re still a bitch, you know that?” Nick rubbed the back of his head. “I was just trying to help you out.”
“
Help yourself out, Nick. Help yourself right out the front door. I don’t want to see you again. You won’t hear from me again unless it’s through my attorney.” Natasha yanked the door open, put her hand on Nick’s chest, and pushed him outside. He tried to return, but she slammed the door in his face.
Shaking and angry, Natasha was even more lost than she had been before Nick appeared. She didn’t need to see him right then. Many things were more important than fighting off a soon-to-be ex-husband. She should be sitting down with a friend and a good beer.
Instead, after locking the front door, checking it twice, and watching through the window as Nick drove off with screeching tires, Natasha strode purposefully toward the back of the house. There was something else that she needed to settle, something that no one could help her with.
She hadn’t been to the basement since the first night her father showed her Fury. Although she had been uncomfortable with the idea of keeping a cyborg in her basement, she had decided to let him do what he wanted. Neil had felt strong enough about the project to take it on, and she trusted him to keep it under control.
Natasha walked across the room to study the cyborg. He stood quietly in his box, only the gentle rise and fall of his broad chest indicating that he was anything more than a wax statue. The wires and tubes were small and unobtrusive, coming in from the back of the container.
This cyborg — Fury — was truly a marvel. His cheekbones were high and defined, lips firmly set and jaw firm. The nurse could see that someone had already modified his hand. The soldiers she dealt with at the CRC needed to have this particular feature disabled before they were released from Cyborg Sector, but this soldier’s weapon was live. She wondered if he had any other replacement parts. She had met men with artificial limbs, eyes, and internal organs, but they were all of such high quality that most people couldn’t tell the difference at first glance.