16 Alma

The towering mountain loomed over the valley below, its jagged peaks jutting into the sky like the teeth of a massive, slumbering beast. The rocky terrain was riddled with deep, winding ravines and treacherous cliffs, making it a challenging and inhospitable place for any living creature. But this valley was far from empty; it was teeming with activity, just not the kind that used to thrive there.

Robots, machines that resembled animals but were far more advanced, roamed the valley floor. Some were like predatory beasts, with razor-sharp claws and teeth, while others were more like massive insects, crawling on multiple limbs and scurrying through the rocky terrain. But all of them shared one thing in common: their advanced technology.

As the robots adapted to their environment, some began to take to the sky. They had invented thrusters that could account for their weight against gravity, allowing them to fly and expand their range. But as the robots evolved and grew more sophisticated, the humans could no longer ignore them.

A floating hill, hovering safely above the valley, housing human villages. It was a refuge from the dangerous world below, a place where humans could escape from the robotic beasts and feel safe. But as the robots began to fly, war was inevitable.

Zho was a unique individual, neither fully human nor fully robot. She had looted parts from a robotic carcass after an intense encounter that left her wooden prosthetics splintered and useless. She had used her ingenuity to merge human and machine, crafting prosthetics that allowed her to move with greater speed and agility than any of her compatriots. She became a warrior, a force to be reckoned with, far beyond the capabilities of anyone else in her village.

But for that very reason, they distrusted and oppressed her. They saw her as an abomination, an affront to their way of life. They could not accept that someone who had once been like them had transformed into something different. She was an outsider, a pariah, a constant reminder of everything they feared.

“Help… Me…” A young child’s voice trembled. Zho’s hearing aid isolated and picked out the location they were in the rubble. Her legs tensed and flexed, the metal mechanization launching her up the former house. The village didn’t survive the newest wave of robots. They were getting bold.

Her arm looped under a supporting beam that had fallen, her body straining as she shifted the weight of the house onto her prosthetics. Her human frame couldn’t withstand the pressure, but with her metal as the fulcrum, she would move a mountain to save someone.

The kid dragged themselves out. Zho let the weight tumble away from her as she noticed a new problem. The lumber had staunched the blood flow from their trapped leg, and now the child was mere moments from death.

“Stay with me,” She begged as she applied a tourniquet. This would only last so long, and they needed to leave as soon as possible. Humans were on the retreat; the battle birds had claimed this outskirt for their own.

Then she saw an opportunity. A downed battle bird, with an intact leg and talon. Would it work? She had performed plenty of field prosthetics, on herself no less. It would take care of the bleeding and give them mobility back. But they would be ridiculed, just as she was.

The kid wouldn’t make it otherwise. She would have to carry them too far, with a tourniquet that wouldn’t last much longer. Gritting her teeth, she took out her tool and worked the metal leg off, making sure that the crimp points would be set to the right size for the thigh.

The tech was easy, her expertise. However, next was the part she was not thrilled for. Amputation. The lower half of the leg was dead weight. The bird’s beak would make a swift and clean cut… Almost as if it was built for cleaving flesh and bone.

She was barely able to stomach it, but the child had passed out a bit ago anyway. The rise and fall of the chest once the metal leg had clamped on was reassuring. The wound has been completely sealed.

With a few more tweaks for sizing, the leg flexed to life as it attached to the exposed nerve endings. It curled, pressurizing to the blood flow. The kid’s face flushed pure white, adjusting to the new leg with a racing heart. Yeah, that part was always the worst. If they were awake, they would have a searing headache. Zho put an oxygen mask on them just to be sure.

She poked the exposed upper thigh with a needle from her medkit. Better get the accelerator over with while they had the time. She glanced at her surroundings, making sure no birds were circling overhead.

She looked for a less exposed area, now that the little one has stabilized. Her strong arm cast the kid over a shoulder with ease, Zho carefully managing her gait to not rattle the unfortunate friend’s brains around. Nearby foliage made for a good spot to rest. Zho needed a break too. Her human side was exhausted, and that little operation took her emotions to their limit. Her thoughts raced, fear of the birds and guilt of the surgery battling for the top spot in her subsequent panic attack.

She was brought out of it when the kid came to, “Hey hey, what’s your name?” She wanted to engage them, keep them busy thinking.

“A-Alma…” She stuttered, her eyes fluttering open and closed. Her oxygen mask ventilated at her breath, Zho removed it after asking a few more simple questions to make sure she was ok.

“I know it might be a lot, and tell me if it is too much. Can you stand? I’ll help you.” They spent too much time here, the birds were no doubt crawling all over this new territory of theirs.

The neural connections were a bit to get used to, but after a few moments, Alma was walking, then jogging, and finally running with Zho. The uneven ground and roots were no issue for the new talons. They forged through the trees, keeping quiet and out of sight.

Alma’s parents didn’t survive the attack. Zho could replace a leg with something better, but the only thing she could do about the orphan was to be there for her. They were the same now, at least in the eyes of everyone else. Maybe one day, those eyes will see beauty in their differences.