The Cyborg Retaliation

Slavery Of A Different Kind

Before we begin:
To any one that happens to have stumbled across my story and has taken the time to read it, thank you so much! I really hope you like the story and that you can connect with it and relate to the characters. I'm going to try and update once a week, every Sunday. Writing is my passion, and you're helping me get closer to my goal as being a published author. I said it once, I'll say it again, thank you for reading this. If you do happen to like the story, be sure to vote or leave a comment - and I'll do my best to reply. Thank you so much!
Love, Bella.

"Nexus 13, bring me my tablet." The man in the completely silver suit barked out and mopped his head with his sleeve as he reclined in his seat and hit a few buttons on the desk.
The cyborg nodded mechanically, suiting its inner workings, but it's human soul warred within.
"Yes, sir." The cyborg made it's way over to the cabinet in the other room and took out a key, slipping it into the cupboard next to it and removing a slim tablet from its place.
It hesitated.
Its computing system went blank for a moment, its brain circuits cutting out and dimming as the cyborg with the metal face and human flesh became lifeless in the front of the cabinet
For one.
Two.
Three.
Its systems rebooted automatically, its brain becoming a whirl wind of frantic electrical signals once again, and it's metal fingers twitched slightly as it's eyes snapped open and looked curiously at the tablet in its hand.
"Memory systems rebooting." The words flashed past the cyborgs eyes, but it did not see them.
The cyborg walked into the next room with the slim tablet in his hand, his legs and arms moving with perfect synchronisation.
"Took you long enough." The man grumbled, leaning forward into his seat and staring at the holographic screen in front of him, and touching a few buttons.
"Bring it - "
The man didn't get a chance to finish his sentence.
The cyborg man had placed his metal hand up upon the man in the suit, and within a few fatal moments of gasping futilely for air and his eyes bulging out of his head, he collapsed forward in his seat.
"System reset." The words flashed in front of the cyborgs eyes, and this time, he did see them. He took a step backwards, falling to his knees as his brain struggled to make sense of what his eyes were telling him.
The metal wires in his hand quivered slightly as his human organs went into overdrive.
"Heart rate rising. Adrenaline at 12%. Increased breaths per minute."
The words flashed by his eyes, and his lungs struggled for air against his wire rib cage as he gripped the edge of the desk and stared, his face pale from the blood that drained out of his face. The part that was still human. The part that was metal didn't react.
It didn't know.
But he did.
He fell to his knees, metal clashing on metal as he put his face in his hands.
"What have I done?"

Tavlo banged in fist on the table in exasperation and looked up at me, his eyes burning in annoyance.
"This is the third one this week! People," he said, breathing deeply, and folding his hands behind him and staring at me, "are going to start asking questions." He said, running his fingers through his blue hair and sinking onto the floating office chair. I pressed my lips together and gripped the file in my hands, and the paper crinkled in my hands as I did so. I turned around to lean out over the silver ledge of floor 209, breathing in deeply as I stared up at the massive triangular light that dangled from the ceiling, looked down at the hundreds of people that swarmed below us, and I turned on my heels and looked at Tavolo.
"I don't think you're understanding what I'm saying, sir." I said, trying to keep my voice calm as I placed the file on the desk and stared at him, and then taking a step back, adjusting my silver cufflinks slowly as I folded my hands behind me.
"The cyborgs are thoroughly examined before we ship them out. There's no sign of malfunction anywhere in the systems. Trust me," I stated, sitting in the chair in front of the desk and placing my hands on the edge of the table, "if there were errors in the programming, I would see it." I said, swallowing back acid in my throat as Tavlo, rubbing the back of his neck and standing to his feet, staring down at the desk before meeting my eyes.
"Then why, have there been reports of cyborgs murdering their owners?" he began to pace the floor in an agitated manner, brushing past the coral that swayed elegantly in the tall tanks beside us, and he polished a mark on it with his sleeve before turning back to me, and adjusting his black tie.
"That's what I'm to find out, sir." I said, clenching my jaw and walking over to him, my black heels clicking loudly on the marble floor and I stared into the tank, watching the squid and octopus drift by past the coral that flashed orange and blue.
"There have been rallies in the streets again, sir." I said quietly, staring at my feet for a moment and meeting my pale face in the reflection of the tank, and Tavlo finally glanced at me with narrowed eyes.
"The people still believe those lies." He muttered to himself, pressing his fingers against his eyes and shaking his head, "they still riot in the streets like the fools they are."
The year 3458 was a harsh one. Ruled by metal towers and people made of only flesh and bone; the world that we had made for ourselves after the Wire Uprising was a world full of hierarchy and flashing metal, each rank of person separated by a distinct and cruel line of superiority.
When the world had been forced to go into hiding underground after AI took over every last computer system on the planet, it had been decided that those crafted of metal and flesh would bow to those crafted only of organic materials. Cyborgs had once walked as equals among us, but after humans had seen the destruction wreaked by a metal mind with conscious thought, they had beaten the cyborgs into submission, forcing them to live as slaves among the humans, stripping them of practically all their rights and rendering them nothing more than a piece of flesh encrypted with metal wiring.
"What should we do about the protests then, sir?" I question even more quietly, watching the squid with its dark, unforgiving eyes drift up to the side of the tank and look at me intensely, as though it can somehow see through my head and see everything that lies in there.
"They will be dealt with." He replies, and with a sickening feeling in my stomach, I feel the steady rhythm of my metal and wire heart against my skin.