The Mechanics of Us

Chapter 38

The mechanic leaps in front of me and holds her arms up with her fists ready to go. We search the grounds, and in the back near a tall mossy green garbage bin, a young girl cyborg steps forward. Her frame is petite, her arm rusted in an angle in which it juts out to her left side and down towards her knee, various cuts tattoo her skin, and they ooze dark copper blood and another black liquid. I squint and spot her metal framework that would have been hidden under her skin, but there is no skin, to begin with. Then her blonde hair is plastered to her head with dirt and human blood.

"Who are you?" the mechanic pronounces huskily.

"Not too sure, but we know who you are," her voice is distant and childlike.

"We?" The mechanic and I study our surroundings further and notice lingering in the background the familiar glimmering luminescent pairs of neon eyes piercing through the shadows. Yet, there are other sets of eyes as well. Various shades of blues, greens, greys, browns, these eyes did not belong to cyborgs, corrupt or other, but humans. We watch in awe as a hoard of humans and cyborgs emerge from behind the rayless obscurity and come into full brightness. Every one of them is unique in their way. The cyborgs all vary in the degree of corruption; some barely show any signs of it none at all while others are rusted, disfigured, lifeless but animate. The humans, all different genders, races, ages.

"We knew your friend, the surgeon," the girl's voice is deeper now, not so childlike.

"Over the years they helped us, took care of us, studied us. When we saw you at the warehouse, we wanted to say thank you," she steps closer towards us with eager actions.

"Thank you?-" I answer back.

"Thank you for your work, we have you to thank for our lives" she hobbles over and attempts to extend the crooked hand. I finagle around the odd angle at which it was held out to me and reluctantly shake it.

Another voice enters the conversation. "The surgeon learned everything they could from you, they told us all about how you taught them how to love which saved them and then us" this time a man comes forth, he's human.

"As cliche as it sounds, love brought all of us together, and we helped each other become whole, even when everyone else told us we couldn't," he continued.

"How come some of you are humans and not afraid of us?" the mechanic asks in confusion.

"Our loved ones were cyborgs, but they were captured and processed, just like your friend. They too taught us love, real love, like you did for the surgeon," the man warmly replies.

The mechanic follows up with-"So how did you find us?"

The cyborg girl buts in again: "The surgeon gave us all instructions that if we do not hear from them, they are in this location."

"Where is the surgeon?" she follows up with.

"Dead," I say absentmindedly. "That's why we saw the data lost in the flashes of red."

The crowd all responds with a heavy sigh.

"What will we do when we break?" a woman cyborg this time steps forth. she possesses no skin on his jaw, and you can see the molded bronze jaw that is beginning to erode.

"I can fix you-"

My neck snaps to the side when the mechanic's words fill the still air.

"I can," she persists.

"I know how to fix cyborgs; I'm familiar with the programs used to code, I can manufacture parts in my shop. I can't replace the surgeon, but I can try."

Never have I ever felt so much admiration towards someone before, and I am overcome with respect and am proud of my girlfriend.

"And you will succeed," I add.

"Bete's" a human this time hesitantly comes forth from the sea of individuals.

"The surgeon said you were the youngest case yet. Your abilities go above and beyond anyone they have ever seen. They said your IQ was so high you skipped three grades, and that your emotional intelligence is just as equal."

I blush and start picking at the cuticles of my nails.

"Babe, you never told me that," I shrug and continue to stay silent.

"With your guidance, we could take steps into making a change for humans and cyborgs."

I remain silent as my brain tries to process everything that is happening. Humans and cyborgs do not hate each other, or at least these select few, my girlfriend is becoming a cyborg doctor or advanced mechanic, and they want me to lead a revolution. Oh, and the surgeon died and left me with an insane amount of responsibility.

"Babe?" the mechanic nudges me with her shoulder.

"Huh?" I shake the cobwebs away in my mind and then fully take in the many pairs of eyes staring back at me.

"Right, uh...yea sure."

I think everyone there started to chat amongst themselves, but I don't know what is happening because I lose touch with reality. A part of me is present but I am looking down at myself from above. I see myself starting to walk away, then I jog, then run, and eventually, I am in a full-blown sprint. It's as if I am in a movie; I am watching myself do these actions on a screen, I monitor myself, run past the police cars that have clustered outside the hospital and zip through crowds of people, I keep going until I finally watch myself collapse. I still can't tell that my body is utterly exhausted since I feel absolutely nothing. And even though I was watching myself I am unaware of my location, I can say that I am not near the city, so I must be on the outskirts or near the edge of a suburb.

The surgeon's voice repeats in my head, and they say, "Breath in, hold for five, breath out." and I do this until I am present once more. I sit up, no longer hovering over my own body, I am now back down to earth, I see the world through my eyes once more. I shut myself off, just for a moment. I take a moment to tune into my other senses. I smell the sweet morning dew on the grass, the toasty rays from the sun lay across my skin, I hear the leaves rustle in the trees, and I experience the grounds' robust mass press against my own.

There's a series of vibrations that shake me, and I lift one eyelid, and a blurred image comes into focus. The mechanic is running towards me, relief overcomes her, and her body touches base with my own.

"Don't ever do that again," she gasps. "I don't run."

That causes me to give a half-hearted grin.

"I'm sorry," I mutter calmly.

"I know," she mumbles back.

"Do you still love me?" I ask insecurely.

"I do," she says confidently.