Cridex

Chapter Eight

The door opened to reveal a small room, with a chair in the middle of it. "What... what is this? How is this proof?" I frowned at the chair. It definitely did not look like something that would prove that I was or was not a cyborg. Instead, it looked more like a chair you would sit in at the dentist's office.

"Perhaps not exactly proof," the man admitted,"But it will prove something to us. It will prove something else, to you, as well."

"But not my heritage?" I questioned worriedly. The whole setup in the room was making me antsy, and scared.

"In a way, yes, it will." He sighed loudly and walked to a small desk next to the chair. "Please just sit in it. We have to run a test."

My blood chilled. "A... test? Of what kind?"

"A test, Ellery. Just a test." Jonas rolled his eyes. "It will not hurt, it will not harm you, either. It is perfectly safe, and we all went through it when we arrived as well." I gulped, despite his assurances. "It is completely safe." He reiterated.

I nodded weakly. "What- what will it test me on? To see if I am a cyborg?"

"Yes." The man spoke, glancing at me. "But it will not only test you on that." I got the impression that he would not tell me exactly what the chair would glean from me. Shakily, I lowered myself onto the chair and watched as the man pressed a few buttons.

From the ceiling, four glass panes dropped down, surrounding the chair. My eyes went wide as I realized that the glass was there to keep me in. Imogen mouthed, "You will be fine." And I believed her, even if it was just for the benefit of my nerves.

I sat in silence for a while, watching as Imogen and Camden talked together, in a somewhat heated conversation. Jonas stood near the door, with an unreadable expression on his face. And the leader, he kept scribbling things down and touching a variety of handles, buttons, and knobs.

The glass suddenly rose up again, and I watched as they motioned for me to come off of the chair. "Wh- what happened?" I asked. I had not felt anything at all.

"A scan." The man said simply. "But, with the information we have received, I am to tell you my name: Zachariah."

"Why did you have to tell me after the test?" I raised my eyebrows at Zachariah.

He chuckled. "The scan was built to see if the speaker was a trustworthy cyborg or not." He murmured, looking at the paper in his hands. "Long story short, you have passed the test. I do not give my name out to cyborgs easily, or anyone, for that matter. Who knew if you were really trustworthy or not?"

"You did not." I answered. "You still do not."

Zachariah nodded. "Precisely. So, take pride in knowing my name." His expression grew dark. "Not many do."

After that, Zachariah ushered us out of the room and we returned to his study. Turning towards me, he said, "Do you need more proof that you are a cyborg? Do you need us to show you?"

"N-no." I stuttered out.

"All right, then. Please sit down again, I will need to ask a few more questions." Zachariah bent over the map on his desk again, tapping his finger on locations and murmuring to himself. "They are not personal questions, just a few on cyborg movements."

For some reason, I hesitated. Even though now I technically had proof on what I was, I seemed to have this... loyalty for the human side. "Ellery? I need to know what is happening in your city. Cyborgs and humans alike." Zachariah asked.

I blinked, then said, "No."

"No?" He lifted a brow. Nothing showed on his facial features, but I was sure I heard surprise in his voice- unless, it was all acted, as well. "No what? No, that you don't know anything? Or no, that you won't answer the question?"

I lifted my chin. "No, I will not answer the question," I replied boldly, surprising myself even. Imogen let out a small gasp.

"Why not?"Zachariah challenged me coolly. He never lifted his head to look at me at all, as he kept writing inside a worn leather notebook. I think his goal was to make me feel insignificant, and it worked.

"I... I just... can not." I flailed helplessly with my words. I had no idea how to convey what i was currently feeling, and all of the disdainful looks toward my way was not helping.

"Is it so really that bad to be a cyborg?" Zachariah questioned, answering the question for me. I shook my head vigorously, but he just continued laughing. "Has your mother really instilled such a fear in you? That you can not accept what you are and who you truly are meant to be?"

I bit my lip and clasped my hands together, not having a response to his question. My lip and my hands... they were cyborg's lip and hands. Not a human's, not ever again.

Though I supposed I could always pretend that I was a human, it would always be in my subconscious and haunt me for the rest of my life.

Zachariah glanced at me, his eyes piercing into mine. "Never mind about that, then," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. "We do need more information, and you are just the right person to tell us."

My eyes widened. "No!" I yelled.

"Why not? Did you not just earlier answer questions? Why the sudden change in opinion now?" His tone was slightly mocking- more than slightly, really.

I shook my head again. "No, no, no," I mumbled.

Footsteps from a corner of the room walked towards me, and I looked to see Imogen placing a hand on my arm. Wrenching my arm out from her grasp, I backtracked towards the other side of the room, my back pressed against the wall.

My heavy breathing was all I could hear for a while, the room was so quiet. They were all staring at me. Imogen tried again, saying, "Ellery, look-" I clenched my fists together, trying to prevent another outburst. Camden noticed, and he pulled Imogen backwards, whispering something in her ear.

Jonas rolled his eyes at them and faced forward, to walk towards me in measured steps. "Calm down, Ellery. You caved in before, so why resist now? It is just a few questions, just for the advancement of cyborgs. You would rather ally with the other side, the enemy's side?"

"No..." I said again. All of their heads whipped to me at my answer, with Camden raising an eyebrow and Imogen letting out a quick and barked laugh.

"Then answer the questions! Sit down, Ellery." Jonas repeated.

Zachariah had a certain disappointment shown in his expression, and he waved his hand. "She is clearly not ready. Imogen, take her back to your room."