“I love Jimmy,” I say. “Not you. Just get the fuck away from me or I swear to the sun, I will shoot you. I will. I won’t hesitate—”
But I do hesitate. I can’t even explain the effect that meeting this boy has on me.
He takes another step forward, reaching out for me, and I know that if his skin touches mine it’s all over. Everything that Jimmy and I felt, and built, and wanted back on Mighty Minions will be over. Forever.
There is a little part inside me screaming, Kill him. Kill him now before it’s too late!
But it’s a very small part. A teeny tiny part that can’t take control of all the other, more dominant parts that are screaming back something quite different. The parts that are demanding that I rush into his arms and let him hold me tight.
Press the button, Delphi!
The tip of my finger brushes against buttons one and two. But they don’t discharge the plasma fire or lasers. Because I can’t bring myself to hurt him.
The only thing I can do is press button three. Flash grenade.
And then I turn away from the bright exploding light of distraction and I run.
I run out of the cells and into the hallway. Go left, then right, then another right. I have no idea where I am. I have no clue where I’m going, I just know I have to get away from that boy. I can’t ever see him again. He can’t ever touch me. Ever, ever, ever—
I round a corner and come face to face with an approaching group of cyborg soldiers. Their weapons trained on me. Their red eye screens blinking fast.
Both of my weaponized arms raise, ready to fire, but they hit me dead in the chest with a steady stream of plasma fire and I go reeling backwards, crashing into a wall.
I shake it off and roll over on my knees, ready to get up and continue fighting.
But when I turn and look over my shoulder, there is that boy again. Guards holding him, one on each side. More cyborg soldiers behind them.
Shoot him, shoot him, shoot him!
But I can’t.
And that’s when more plasma fire hits me in the back and I fall over face first onto the hard, steel floor.
I wake up in waves, my chest burning from the onslaught of plasma fire. It’s hard to breathe, and painful too. Like I can’t suck in enough air. Like my lungs don’t work properly anymore.
“Good,” Veila says off to my left. “She’s waking up.”
I’m upright, bound to one of those magnetic walls, the full weight of my body hanging from the restraints on my wrists. My hands are numb and unresponsive.
I think I lose time after that because the next thing I hear is Jimmy. His voice is low and his words deliberate. “—then I’ll cooperate,” he says. Like he’s finishing a statement and I’m only catching the tail end of it.
No. I want to say it out loud, but can’t. Don’t cooperate. Don’t let her ruin us.
“I’m afraid what’s done is done,” Veila says. “She killed seventeen sexbots, seven borgs, and two of the slaves have died since she interfered with their protocol.”
What?
“Besides,” Veila continues, “she’s part of the program. Bring in the mate.”
“Just wait!” Jimmy counters. “Just fucking wait a minute. If you let her go I’ll do what you ask. I’ll submit to it, goddammit.”
“You will submit anyway, Jimmy. There is no possible way you won’t. We have been genetically engineered to be meant for each other. Why are you fighting this?”
Jimmy doesn’t say anything. I manage to crack open one eyelid and catch a glimpse of the metal floor and my sagging feet. It takes a lot of effort to raise my head and take a look around, but I do it. I make myself do it.
There are dozens of soldier borgs in here with us, but my gaze passes right by them, eager to see the only face that matters, and when I find it, a rush of relief floods through me.
Jimmy.
That’s real too, I tell myself. That feeling I have around Jimmy, it’s real. It’s more real than what I feel for that strange boy back in that cell. It has to be.
Jimmy meets my gaze and I try to keep my eyes open. I just want to look at him. I just want to see him. But I can’t. I’m too tired, too exhausted, and my eyes close again through no will of my own.
“I think you underestimate me,” Jimmy says.
“How so?” Veila counters.
“You’ll see if you insist on subjecting Delphi to being raped,” Jimmy snarls.
“Well, I don’t respond to threats, Jimmy. I respond to facts. And the fact is you’re mine. She’s his. And that’s the end of it. This is nature. This can’t be undone. Not even that DNA scrambler you use can stop it. Can’t you see that?”