Cyborg Nation by Kaitlyn O'Connor (english readers TXT) 📗

She hoped the cyborgs weren’t going to decide they had no use for her when they realized that all she could contribute was teaching the mothers the proper handling and care of their infants.

It didn’t seem to be anything they were going to realize very quickly. Every day she went to her office she found more women waiting for her, some expectant and others carrying infants. And not just women and babies. The new or expectant fathers arrived with the mothers and infants--great, hulking dangerous looking brutes that looked far more panic stricken than the women did whenever an infant was thrust at them.

Obviously, though, they either took fatherhood very seriously, or their women expected them to take fatherhood very seriously and they couldn’t bring themselves to deny their women whatever they wanted. The entire household arrived to be instructed on the care of the smallest member of the family unit, which meant that she quickly had three or four times as many men than women and had to make arrangements for parenting classes three times a week, and then five to keep the groups small enough to give them individual instructions.

Caleb watched her as assiduously as her companions had, although he was obviously there to guard her from other males, not the threat of trog attack. She knew he must have orders, but she couldn’t help but think he stretched the parameters of those orders whenever it suited him.

He could’ve guarded her from outside her office. Instead, he spent most of his time in the waiting room, except when she and her assistant went into any of the examining rooms. Then, she would discover him standing directly outside the room when she came out again. She didn’t know if he had a particular reason for distrusting her male assistants or not.

There was no shortage of women for them to lust over in her office. There might have been a shortage overall, but not that she could tell.

For that matter, she didn’t think the problem was one they were going to have to worry about within a generation. The ratio of male to female seemed pretty even, or at least not nearly as uneven as the current situation reported to her.

And she saw no reason to doubt that part. Not only was every woman who came to her escorted by at least two men and usually three or four, but on the streets, she almost never saw a woman at all.

As busy as she was from the moment she decided to ‘just get started’ by getting her office in order, Bronte couldn’t keep her thoughts at bay when she returned to her quarters at night. Days dragged into a week and Bronte went from anxious to beside herself with worry.

“What could possibly take so long to investigate?” she finally demanded of Caleb.

“They have gone to the crash site to try to determine the cause of the crash.”

Bronte gave him a look. “The cause of the crash was something breaking the tail section off!”

She thought for several moments that he would do as he usually did and just allow her to stew over it.

“The proximity alert should have set off a warning in time to avoid a collision.”

Bronte stared at him, trying not to think of all the times the men had brawled across the ship and the possibility that the thing could’ve been damaged during one of those fights. She didn’t believe it was possible. Gideon might have been very lax about things on board the ship, but none of them had been any where near the control center at any time. “Don’t they ever malfunction?”

“Occasionally, but very rarely.”

Bronte frowned. She wasn’t about to mention any possibility that might explain it that would make it seem any of the men had had anything to do with it—especially when she didn’t believe for a moment that they had.

Even if she had thought they’d damaged it she wouldn’t have said so.

“We were shot at when they took me,” she said finally.

“The chances of a laser blast …,” he began.

“No!” Bronte said, cutting him off. “Missiles. The military was firing on us. At least two exploded close enough to send a concussion through the ship. I thought the ship was going to blow up.”

This time his frown was more thoughtful. “I had not heard that. That could have caused some damage, perhaps enough for intermittent failure that would be hard to detect. It might also have compromised the integrity of the hull, which would explain why the meteor that struck caused such extensive damage despite the shields.”

Pleased and relieved that he, at least, seemed to be considering that her companions weren’t at fault, she looked at him with more charity. “What else have you heard?”

Something flickered in his eyes. He seemed to debate with himself for several moments. “They have produced no contracts. It is likely the council would have dismissed it even if they had, however. They were not ordered not to try to coerce you into contracting with them because it was not anticipated that they would seize a woman, and yet they were well aware that they were not honoring the letter of their command and that they would be ordered to stand down if it was known that they had taken a woman. They failed to protect you as they should have, even if the crash was completely accidental and through no dereliction of duty. They did not care for you as they should have or you would not have been in such poor health when you were finally turned over to us. And they raped you.”

Bronte had been staring at him with fear, disbelief, and growing anger as he produced the charges against them, but the last was outrageous enough to leave her gasping. “They did not rape me!” she said angrily.

He tilted his head, studying her through narrowed eyes. “I saw myself that you were hysterical when you were told