[Avia]

Happy butterflies took flight in my gut as Zach accepted the hail. Finally, life was going my way. After the reunion with Flint, I was eager to see my childhood friends again on less chaotic terms. 

Damon's face appeared on the forward viewscreen, his dark brown eyes narrowing as he scanned us. It was the same old Damon from my youth, but older, and tested by circumstance. Black, tightly curled hair was cut shorter than before, and his dark-brown face seemed to have narrowed, making his high cheekbones stand out. There was a seriousness to his expression, the youthful mirth that originally bound us together absent, but I supposed so many years on the run labeled as a society menace would do that.

"Damon..." I said haltingly.

"I thought you would come alone, Avia," he said flatly, eyes narrowing. "Why did you bring your bounty hunter and military handler?"

"They are with me," I replied, glaring back at him. "Zach is no longer a hunter and Flint is no longer in the military, just as we are no longer in the Cyber Assault Force."

"You must come alone."

"No." I folded my arms — this was not up for negotiation. "They are with me."

For a moment, Damon continued his glare, but then let out a breath and nodded. "Very well. I will send you the flight path." A small grin rose on thin lips. "Good to see you again, Avia."

"Umm, that seemed a bit hostile," Zach noted after the communication ended, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you and him were best buds?"

"We were," I answered.

Before, Damon was a fun-loving jokester. He and Lael drew me out of my shell, sometimes getting us all in trouble. And another thing, Lael's initial messages that directed us here were unusually abrupt for such a bubbly, talkative girl. The Three Musketeers we had called ourselves after the ancient swashbuckling tale. Together, we fled the Cyber Assault Force just before the purge, then split up, promising to get-together later. It had been so long.

Shrugging, I added, "I suppose years on the run might have changed him."

"Yeah, I suppose it would."

Still, despite the rationalization, an uneasiness settled in my gut. They seemed... off.

The new course led us to an ovoid, medium-sized asteroid pocked with craters and long-abandoned mining scars. Only up-close did our scanners note the out-of-place energy signatures, and then just slightly elevated temperatures and energetic neutrons. Hidden surface lights blinked on, directing us to a docking port deep within a dark mining tunnel.

So many years ago, in the days of youth, we Three Musketeers dreamed of a secret lair from which to launch daring fantasy raids, and here it was. But all I wanted now was refuge from those that feared and despised me.

Damon, wearing loose light-colored trousers and a long, untucked shirt, met us on the other side of the docking tunnel inside a brightly lit port hall with a rounded rocky ceiling. A huge smile erupted on his face, bright white teeth contrasting with dark skin. Stepping forward, he wrapped me within long arms and crushed me against a tall, lanky body, even taller than Zach. "Welcome to Nemesis, Avia."

Greetings for Zach and Flint were much less enthusiastic, no more than expressionless nods and formal handshakes.

"It's been awhile, Damon," Flint said as he shook hands. Damon made no response.

Behind him, Lael stood with eyes cast down and hands clasped — strangely passive for the extrovert girl I remembered. She looked mostly the same — reddish-blonde hair tied in a long braid, full lips, and a smattering of freckles on a light oval-shaped face. A beauty by most standards, she wore a form-fitting black jumpsuit that highlighted ample curves.

As I tentatively approached Lael, a warm smile brightened her face. "Avia," she simply muttered.

I gently hugged Lael, and after a moment, she responded by wrapping arms around me. "I missed you, Lael," I whispered.

Damon put a hand on my shoulder and pulled me from the hug, grinning. "Let me show you around, Avia. I think you will like what I created."

"Okay," I responded. But I kept silent a concerning thought. Why had he not given Lael credit, too? Surely, she played a role.

Stopping at a rounded open hatch, Damon pointed at a silvery-metal android, who stood rigid as if at guard. Constructed in roughly human form with a rounded head, two arms, and two legs, it was obviously mechanical, with hinged joints and a smooth silver face except for two glowing red eyes.

Damon puffed his chest out. "I created a robot army, nearly a hundred strong and growing, all under my control." He tapped his head, implying the cybernetics in his head.

"An army?" Flint said, lifting a gray eyebrow. "Do you anticipate military action?"

"For our protection," Damon replied, frowning. "The Sol Federation hunts us. Surely, you understand that."

Flint narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

Turning, Damon curtly said, "Lael, prepare a dinner for our guests after the tour. They must be hungry."

"Yes, sir," Lael replied in an even voice, dipping her head. Then she disappeared through the hatch. 

Zach caught my attention as Damon turned away, then mouthed Lael's words, 'Yes, sir?'

What was going on? The Lael I remembered was submissive to no one, even taking delight in goading Damon when he thought too much of himself.

Damon glowed as he showed off Nemesis. He focused the tour on me, essentially ignoring Zach and Flint, who followed behind. Further behind, two androids plodded along like tailing security guards.

As we originally surmised, Nemesis started as a mined out asteroid, and somehow, Damon and Lael turned it into an impressive hidden and self-sustaining station. Brightly lit rocky-walled passageways connected many expansive chambers, each with a purpose. He showed us lush hydroponic gardens; recycling facilities; auto-fabricators that produced machine parts; and even recreational areas. Twin fusion reactors, buried deep within the asteroid to hide their presence, provided ample power.

Everything was tended by an extensive staff of specialized robots controlled by several AIs. Using my cybernetics, I peeked into the AI structures, finding what I suspected. Damon had override control of everything with multi-layered active firewalls to keep anyone else out.

"Where did you get the funding for all this?" I asked along the way.

Damon tapped his head and grinned. "Courtesy of the Sol Federation Space Force. The military accounting practices are woefully inadequate, and it was so easy to cover up the diversion of funds and equipment. I am now the tenth richest person in the Sol Federation."

Flint frowned when I glanced his way. Damon could be a poster child for the Federation's Aberrant label.

We ended up in the habitation area, which included sleeping rooms, a kitchen-galley, and storage areas. Damon directed us to a hostel-style guest quarter with three bunkbed sets.

"I'll give you a chance to rest and clean up," Damon said. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

As Damon turned to leave, I asked, "Why did you name this place Nemesis?" 

"From ancient Greek mythology, Nemesis was the goddess of retribution." An unsettling grin rose on his face. "And so it shall be for those who persecuted us."

A chill crawled down my spine. "Retribution?"

Facing away, Damon deferred answering. "We will discuss this during dinner, among other things. I think you will like what I have planned."

After Damon disappeared out the hatch, Zach peeked outside to ensure he had gone, then plopped down in a gray plas-steel chair and blew out a breath. "Is anyone else freaked out by--"

I put a finger to Zach's lips, silencing him, then touched my ear. He and Flint understood my signal. I had detected active listening devices with my cybernetics, but as far as I knew, no cameras. Damon was monitoring us, but why?

I firmed my lips and nodded to Zach, silently communicating that, yeah, I was freaked out, too. But I said something else out loud, "Let's get ready for dinner. I am curious what Damon and Lael have in mind."

True to his word, Damon returned in exactly twenty minutes and escorted us to dinner. "Lael has become quite the cook, you will see," he explained. "Meals can be prepared robotically, but I like the human touch, and it is important for Lael to have purpose."

Purpose? What purpose, I thought to myself?

The galley was a rounded room, carved out from the asteroid like all others, with a single round gray plas-steel table that was almost too small for the six gray chairs crowded around it. But then, they hadn't expected so many visitors. Gray cabinets lined one side, and on the other, a wide doorway led to a kitchen area. Fibrous flat panels attached to the ceiling dampened noise, decreasing the echo-chamber effect. It wasn't all plain gray, though. A brightly colored space-themed mural stretched half-way around the room — art I recognized as Lael's style.

Two androids scurried about like servers, setting the table with dull metal eating utensils, while three more stood motionless along the perimeter. Yellow flowers, likely from the gardens, stood upright in a tall vase, adding a splash of color to the table.  

When Lael, wearing a white apron, emerged from the kitchen area, Damon opened his arms and said, "Give me a kiss, my dear."

Expressionless, Lael moved into his arms and pressed stiff lips against his. Standing beside me, Zach wrinkled his brow, apparently having the same assessment: That had to be the most uninspired and robotic kiss we had ever witnessed. Yet Damon seemed to be happy, beaming.

"Is dinner ready?" Damon asked.

"Very soon," she answered blankly.

Shifting expressions, Damon narrowed his eyes. "It should have been ready by now."

Lael dipped her head. "I'm sorry, Damon."

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "Well, get on with it, then."

Hands on hips, as Damon watched Lael plod back into the kitchen. I turned my gaze to Zach and Flint, my mouth gaping. What was going on here? Why was Damon so harsh and Lael so passive?

But as I considered a tactful way to confront Damon, a little girl, about eight Earth-years old, appeared at the galley hatch. Big, adorable amber eyes curiously scanned us, but otherwise, her face held no expression. She had sandy-brown hair tied in a braid like Lael's, light skin, and pert little nose. Barefoot, she wore only a simple white sheath dress. Zach's and Flint's raised eyebrows told me they were as surprised by the girl's presence as I was.

"Ah, there you are, little one," Damon said, a smile returning to his face. "Come here. We have guests."

The girl did not move, nor gave any other response.

"I said, come here, Nyx," Damon repeated, his voice becoming callous while narrowing his eyes. "Now."

After a moment's hesitation, the girl ambled forward and grasped Damon's forefinger. "Good girl," he said.

Damon addressed us with a hand motion. "I would like to introduce Nyx, the future of humanity."

Nyx gazed up at me with the most innocent of little-girl eyes. I lowered myself to her level on one knee and put on a warm smile, but she maintained a blank expression.

"Hello, Nyx," I said in a gentle voice. "I am happy to meet you. My name is Avia."

The little girl did not reply, her only response a tightening of lips while maintaining a glossy-eyed gaze.

"Are you like me, too?"

I jerked as my eyes widened. Nyx spoke not by voice, but by com-band transmission directly to my internal cybernetics. Was she cyber enhanced?

Suppressing any further surprise expressions, replacing it with a grin, I responded in the same manner. "Yes, I am like you. Do you hear me?"

Nyx answered with a small, jerky nod.

"I like your hair," I said out loud.

But my compliment was a ruse to examine Nyx further. Reaching to push back stray hair strands, I brushed my fingertips across the back of her upper neck, finding the telltale scars behind her ears where her cybernetics were inserted. Like mine. The incision was not quite healed, indicating a relatively recent surgery, perhaps within a few months.

Hot rage boiled up from my core, and I struggled to keep it hidden within.

How could anyone subject children to this? I thought the cybernetic program had ended after the war, and certainly with the Aberrant purge. Only young children of a certain age-band had a malleable enough brain to accept the cybernetic implants, and even then, nearly half suffered severe brain damage or death. And for those that did not, the brain fought against the implants.

A tremble shook me as I recalled the weeks of agony after my surgery — painful throbbing headaches, dizzying nausea, hopeless depression, and even bouts of psychosis. So many times, I woke up screaming in terror, and the medical staff often restrained me so I wouldn't hurt myself or somebody else. After that, it took over a year for my brain to fully integrate the implants, during which I experienced bouts of seizures and blackouts. But the worst part was the constant desolating lost feeling, as if I was no longer me, and the loneliness that went with it. During these times, I initially bonded with Damon and Lael, and we helped each other recover, eventually becoming weapons of war.

And now did the desecration happened again?

But this sweet little girl was innocent, and I had no cause to unload on her, so I held my anger inside. For now.

I had questions for Damon.