[Avia]

I needed more sugar to power my cybernetics, so as the passengers lined up for boarding, I stopped by a nearby auto-vendor booth and selected the last five pouches of Goober Gummies, my go-to sugar source. To pay for them, I pressed the memory crystal ring on my right hand against the booth pay receptacle, debiting from the secure e-credits that I stole from Zach. The biometric linked ring also served as an identification badge, which I easily hacked, if needed. But perhaps most vital to me, it contained an emergency reboot code in case my cybernetic implants failed — a rare event among the enhanced, but it has happened.

The Goober package art featured happy space-themed shapes in various bright colors, obviously targeting children, but I had grown to like them. Unzipping a package, I popped a yellow star shape into my mouth, letting the sweet-tart lemon flavor burst across my tongue.

A shrill cry pierced the low murmurs of the departure lounge. Many narrowed eyes turned toward its source — a toddler boy in blue pajamas who apparently had enough of traveling and wasn't shy about letting everyone know. His young, harried mother, balancing two bags slung across her back and a sleeping baby in a front sling carrier, gulped at the contemptuous glares. Her blonde hair might have been styled at one time, but now was tied back in a frazzled ponytail. The dried crusty remains of regurgitated milk streaked down from one shoulder of her dark t-shirt. My heart went out to her.

"Hush now," she said to her young son, putting a finger across her cracked lips. For a moment, the cry abated as the temperamental child tugged on her leg. She turned back to the shiny customer service android behind the small round desk, pleading, "Isn't there something you can do? We'll be stranded here."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the android replied in a tinny monotone, "but, per policy, your financial status is insufficient to extend credit. May I suggest that you inquire at the central customer service desk for other options?"

Apparently sensing his mother's despair, the boy renewed his wails. More heads turned, displaying disapproving frowns and judgmental narrowed eyes, and the woman's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The cry affected me too, but in a deeper way. The secret Sol Federation agency who put computer chips in my head also made sure that I could never have children, since pregnancy might have inhibited my deadly efficiency or challenged my loyalty. A shadow crossed my heart, cast from the family that I will never have, and I wiped moisture from my eyes. But maybe I can help this family.

Using my cybernetic implants, I extracted the woman's identity from her com-viewer, then searched the info-web. She lived with her children on a faraway world, her husband an asteroid miner operating based on Hephaestus. The outpost attracted many prospectors hoping to strike it rich — most don't. Oh, but he was sidelined with a serious injury, recovering in a local hospital. Unable to work, the bills piled up, and he generated a substantial debt as creditors snapped at his tail, including Omni-Corp's financial division and their predatory loan practices.

No wonder that poor woman couldn't purchase a ticket. We'll see about that...

Hacking into Omni-Corp would take too long, especially with their strong web security, but Zach will come to the rescue, even if he didn't know it. He became such a generous guy when I spent his money. With a few mental manipulations, I purchased tickets for the woman and her children, then wiped out her husband's debt using money I pilfered from the Hunter accounts. Finally, I wiped clean my digital tracks.

The woman turned back to the service android, another desperate plea on her lips, but the robot spoke first. "Oh, I see, ma'am. The tickets have come through, and you may now board at any time. Thank you for flying with Galaxia Spaceline, a division of Omni-Corp."

As the woman's jaw dropped, I came up behind and tapped her on the shoulder. "I see you are having some difficulty. May I help in some way?"

Turning to me, she shook her head with mouth open. "The most amazing thing..." She dropped her head and stammered, "I'm... I'm sorry about my son. It's been a long trip and..."

I waved a hand to dismiss the perceived offence. "It's okay. Sometimes children act like children. Let me carry your bags for you?"

"Thank you," she replied with a heavy sigh, while passing her black duffle bags. "You are a lifesaver."

I grunted as the bags stretched my arms, pulling hard on my shoulders, especially while also carrying my worn backpack. How had she carried them, a baby, and hauled along an uncooperative toddler, too? On the way through the docking tunnel, she shared her situation. With each word, the tension seemed to evaporate from her face. As we drew near the rounded hatch of the shuttle Corinth, the little boy stopped in his tracks and yanked on her hand, letting out a series of stubborn whines.  

"Here," I said, passing a Goober Gummies package to the mother while tilting my head toward her fussy son. "Not the healthiest snack, but they might work as a bribe."

It worked. The mother cast me a sly smile as her son silenced and widened his eyes to an offered green comet-shaped candy.

The young mother's son fell asleep within moments of taking their seats, much to her relief. As she prepared to nurse the baby, the woman cast me a smile that warmed my heart. "Thank you, again. You've been so kind."

After stowing my tattered brown backpack, which contained all my inter-worldly possessions, I settled into a seat. From Hephaestus, I hoped to catch an independent freighter to the outer colonies, or anywhere further from Sol Federation influence.

Pulling deep breaths, I willed my muscles to relax. The window at my side provided a spectacular view of the planet below. Deep blue seas surrounded lands in shades of green and brown, partially obscured by swirling wisps of white. Past the shadow curtain of night, tiny twinkling lights marked the boundaries of cities. Beautiful. I hoped someday, that some place like that might become my home.

After failing to tame unruly shoulder length hair with fingers, I resigned to tying it back into a crude ponytail. While normally dark brown, my hair color this week was platinum-blonde, which contrasted nicely with my light tan skin. Since Zach saw me earlier, I needed to change it again.

A man with curly brown hair, mid-twenties Earth years old, same as me, plopped down into the adjacent chair. Flashing a warm smile, he pointed a thumb back towards the main terminal. "Do you know what is going on? Heard there was an Aberrant or something."

Shrugging as my fists clenched at my side, I replied in an even voice, "Don't know. Probably a false alarm."

"I suppose," he said, leaning back. "But you can't be too careful with an Aberrant."

I wanted to scream out: We were human, like everyone else! Not monsters to be hunted down. But, alone and on the run, I dared not. So, I held it all in, betraying myself again.

Memories as a girl in the Cyber Assault Force flooded through my mind, and my heart raced as if transported into war. The sights, sounds, and smells of battle engulfed my mind — streaks of plasma fire, the screams, smoke, the explosions, fallen friends and comrades, and so much death. My actions killed many, both enemy combatant and civilian collateral.

Maybe I was a monster.

Yet, we were the unsung heroes of the Boundary Wars, but eventually, the Federation turned on those that survived. Aberrants, monsters, they labeled us, threats to humanity. Although, to be honest, the power corrupted many who truly earned the labels.

I don't know how many of us were still alive and free, but there can't be very many. The only ones I had contacted were Damon and Lael — my closest friends during the Cyber Force years, calling ourselves the Three Musketeers after the classic swashbuckling story. We escaped together before the persecution, then fled in different directions. We set up a secret site to exchange messages, but I had not heard from either in nearly an Earth year. The fear that they may have been caught or killed cast another shadow across my heart.

All I wanted was a place to call home. Somewhere safe. Someplace I belonged. Where I loved, and was loved in return. Was that too much to ask for?

"My name is Fernando," the man said, extending a hand.

I shook his hand and put on a fake smile. "Laura."

I generated false identities all the time, easy enough to do with the quantum computer bio-chips in my head. All I had to do was hack into the appropriate database. The hardest part was remembering who I was.

"What takes you to Hephaestus, Laura?" He tilted his head and grinned. "I could show you around if you want?"

I wasn't sure if he was coming on to me or just being friendly. It didn't matter. "No, thanks," I answered. "Some friends are meeting me there."

Turning, I closed my eyes, hoping the conversation would end. Feigning weariness was a favorite tactic to avoid social interaction, but this time, I really was exhausted.

Concentrating, I accessed the shuttle high-level control AI with my implants, flipping through the code like pages in an old-fashioned book. I found coms, navigation, environmental, fusion reactor controls, even a crewman's collection of erotic images, everything. If I wanted, I could take over ship operation with a single directed thought. Easy, much easier than a military ship, but that would reveal my presence.

As the shuttle jerked, pulling away from the dock, my thoughts drifted back to Zach, my pursuer, my Hunter. Tall, muscular, and handsome; in another reality, I might have welcomed his attention. I knew almost everything about him — anything available on the info-web and several private databases, anyway. He didn't seem like such a bad person for an Elite, although he was annoyingly persistent.

Born into a wealthy and powerful family — his uncle was Vice President and Research Director of Omni-Corp — he rebelled against his privileged status, hooking up with the Red Caste, a shadowy group that protested against society's inequities. The Federation convicted him of sedition, the go-to charge for Elites that don't toe the political line. Then, Zach became a Bounty Hunter in exchange for prison time, making a name for himself by bringing in some truly bad people.

But then he came after me.

If the stakes were not so high, the chase might have become a game. When captured, Aberrants were sent to a secret prison moon, that is, those who survived capture. A humane solution, good for all, the politicians proclaimed in so many eloquent words. But it wasn't. Surgically removing the brain implants was impossible without killing the person, so they deactivated them, scrambled them, rendering them useless. Since the chips had become so seamlessly integrated into our brains, that was akin to a lobotomy.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself. The laws weren't going to change. Zach won't ever stop. And I was forever an Aberrant, alone and on the run. The loneliness was the worst part, carving out a dark cavern within a soul that echoed with despair.