Veral barely recalled any details from his youth before his first cybernetic implants. It was intentionally engineered in such a way that a cybernetic citizen would feel loyalty first and always to their state. They weren’t meant to remember their families or their past. Veral was fortunate enough that sometimes a memory would rise up and flood his processors with the colors, flavors, and emotions of his youth, but it was always fleeting, and faded before he could even attempt to grasp it.
Yet he’d been aware that it set him apart distinctly, and had led to his eventual rebellion from his homeworld when he realized just how much was taken from him. It was something all Argurma accepted… except him. But he was accustomed to being different and having to hide it among his brethren. Being different was not approved of. He would be seen as malfunctioning, and quarantined by the doctors for testing to root out the source of his malfunction. He kept away from his own to keep his secret and hold onto the memories as best he could when they came.
When he’d held Terri to reduce her stress, one such memory floated to the surface. It seemed to last longer when he touched her and so he’d been loath to release her even after the danger passed. It was a hazy memory of his mother. She’d been holding him in her arms, whispering to him comfortingly as a storm had raged. He could almost recall the tang of fear as lightning flashed through the room, and the warm, solid presence of his mother. So he’d clung to Terri, trying desperately to retain the memory.
Unfortunately, though it had lingered longer than others, it too eventually passed. He didn’t know why he continued to hold the female after that. Perhaps he’d hoped another memory would come.
The memory, however, made the absence of offspring even more noticeable. Offspring meant life, hope, and the continuation of a species. Not all chose to breed, but the creation of offspring was necessary to maintain a healthy population. So far, he’d seen and heard many adult humans. The females he saw less of, but heard and scented them in the camp once he’d been able to identify them. He knew that there were pregnant females, but not one infant or juvenile below the age of adolescence. The absence of young didn’t strike him as particularly consequential until now.
“Why are there no human offspring?”
Terri startled and glanced at him. She lifted one shoulder and her lips twisted as if to smile, but she scented of sadness, belying her expression. He frowned at her, confused as to why she didn’t give the proper expressions for her emotions. She looked away into the distance for a short time before answering.
“It’s been quite a few years since anyone has birthed living babies,” she said at last. “Women get pregnant often enough, especially, I imagine, within the Reaper camp, but no one to my knowledge has been able to carry to term. Hard to say why that is. Perhaps it’s what we’re eating, or our living conditions.” She shook her head and climbed over a fallen wall. He watched her, noting that her face was reddening from the sun at an alarming rate once again before the damaged skin had time to completely slough off. There were creams that some of the other salvagers applied before working in similar environments, but he didn’t carry any on his ship since he did not require them.
“What about you?” she asked, making him jerk so slightly that he doubted she noticed.
“I do not understand your question,” he grumbled, disliking being caught off guard.
She laughed softly. “I mean, do you have any childr—offspring?”
“It is forbidden,” he stated with finality. “I am unmated and unlicensed from the planetary register for donating genetic material.”
Her delicate hairs on her brow arched up at him as her lips twisted with obvious amusement. “Donating genetic material? You don’t give it up directly?”
He scowled at the female at his side. “Give what up? Your words are not precise enough for me to know what you are asking.”
“Uh, you know, make offspring the way nature intended. Male meets female, and they mate and create little offspring naturally.”
He stared at her, aghast. Oh, he knew that was how other species did it, but to suggest that Argurma behave in such a way was absurd. “We are an advanced and enlightened species, superior to most organic species in every way. Our society determined long ago that to manufacture the strongest offspring, mated pairs with a license to do so submit their genetic material.”
“That doesn’t sound fun,” she said. He wasn’t sure if she intended to mock the ways of his people, or if she seriously believed that fun had anything to do with it.
“Reproduction is a serious matter,” he returned shortly. “It is not intended for enjoyment or amusement if one is vested in procreation. Choosing the best genetic samples from the mated pair provides strong, healthy offspring.”
He didn’t miss her incredulous look. “I guess, although that sounds too cold and clinical. As far as I am concerned, children are a blessing regardless of how they come. If I had any, I wouldn’t need them to be the best to love them.”
He snorted suspiciously. “And what if they were flawed in a way that made them different?”
She lifted a shoulder again in what he was beginning to suspect was something between a dismissal and uncertainty, depending on the question. “Then they would be unique.”
Veral cocked his head at her, caught off-guard by her apparent sincerity.
Females of his species would never admit to such feelings even if they had them. A female was to desire strong healthy offspring who would honorably continue her lineage.
He didn’t want to admit to Terri that his mating had failed because the female he was courting learned that his mother had been isolated as malfunctioning and eventually terminated when her emotional compulsions could not be corrected.
Terri kicked a dead lump of plant life out of her way. “Okay then, so offspring are grown in labs for this faulty idea of perfection. Then what? I suppose you have a rigid education and all that. Shit that no one here cares about because we’re too busy surviving.” She paused and scrubbed her hands on her pants. “I can read,” she said. “Not a lot, since my mother died when I was young, but she taught me a little.” She gave him a sidelong glance and smiled humorlessly. “I suppose that would make me even more inferior.”
His vibrissae twitched. “There is no comparison between other races, who do not seek out perfection, and the Argurma. It would not be held against you. We are held to higher standards, which includes education from infancy to produce the best warriors, technicians, and scientists. Sometimes a mated pair feels inclined to rear their offspring to such expectations, but usually Argurma young are raised in age groups for social conditioning and educational purposes. Upon reaching adulthood, it is supplemented with technology that further increases our abilities.”
“Wow,” she said, laughter noticeably lacing her tone. He found the sound intriguing and enjoyed hearing though he suspected that she was mocking him. “I see you didn’t include anything remotely artistic or compassionate in that list. As for it not being held against me, I’m not sure if that is a backhanded compliment or a really shitty xenophobic observation. See? I know a few big words too.”
Terri glared at him for a moment before huffing, her eyes trained on a building just up ahead. Veral followed her attention to the sloping roof of a collapsed building. It appeared to be buckled in the front and rear, blocking off much of the lower level. The ground level, however, was impenetrable stone. His lip curled at the inconvenience, his eyes landing on a collapsed porch and staircase that disappeared under rubble. He lifted his gaze to the level above that and noticed a broken window, leaving a gap far too small for his large frame. He circled around to the back of the building and found the conditions much the same, and all the windows on the main floor just above him were locked firmly in place.
“This house is pretty unusual in Phoenix. Someone must have paid big money to have it rebuilt here,” Terri said as she paced around the building, studying it intently. “We’re going to have to get in the hard way. The access to the daylight basement and main floor is completely blocked off. Looks like broken window it is!”
He frowned at the back of her head. If she got hurt, he would not be able to go in to pull her out. He opened his mouth to object and remind her of her obligation of assisting him when she suddenly spoke.