Artificial Mates - Chapter 109

I rushed to the thing on the floor and fell to my knees. The white liquid seeped into the fabric of my black jeans. Tears stung my eyes as I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. My fingers trembled as I reached for the furry shape. The red thread that linked us was almost gone. It was not moving, I gave a panic look over my shoulder at Grant looming behind me. He frowned and turned to the door.

“I’m going to get the trauma kit,” he dashed out leaving me alone. Victor leaned against the door frame, he stared into the distance with a vacant glare. The shape stirred, a low groan resonated in the small cell. White sharp teeth appeared in the mass of darkness.

“Demos, it’s me,” I retrieved my hand. It lifted its huge head towards me, icy blue eyes glaring. “Demos where are you hurt? What happened?” the head fell back on the floor and eyes slowly closing. “Wait!” I reached out but hesitated to touch the fur. “Demos, don’t sleep! Grant is coming back,” I shouted.

-I told him not to get you involved.

“Wait, What? Him—who?” I leaned closer. His voice was so weak I barely heard it. The string attached to us pulsed into an ached in the middle of my chest. I squeezed the front of my shirt. “Demos, it hurts,” I groaned between gritted teeth. His eyes opened, they were a dull blue.

-Don’t—too painful—can’t.

I gasped as the pain accentuated, spreading in my chest. I wrapped my arms around the large body, sinking my face in the soft fur, tears streamed down soaking it. I held Demos with all my might.

“Demos, don’t die!” I sobbed.

-Hurts.

Hands pulled me away from Demos. I screamed and fought then I realized Grant had come back with Dr. Churchhill. His eyes were aquamarine and he rubbed my back to calm me.

“We need to treat his wounds. Please, stay back, ok?” I bite my lower lips it tasted salty. I couldn’t speak and just nodded. He helped to sit against the wall. I was shivering when I looked down at my shirt and jeans I found them soaked in that white liquid. Low murmurs came from the door and I turned to look. There are a dozen of armed cyborgs standing and aiming at us. The Captain we met in the hall downstairs was behind them peeking over their shoulders.

“Give me the spray,” called Grant. My focus went back to the two men leaning over the black form. “Demos! You won’t be able to shift back. We’ll move you back to the lab. You hang in there. I’ll switch you off,” he moved closer. “Dream of us,” he whispered. More tears flow silently down my face. Dr. Churchhill fished into a bag next to him and got the spray and bandages. There was a strange expression on the old man’s face. Was I too quick to judge him? Grant got up and glared at the people by the door.

“Can I get something to carry him?” the captain stepped inside the cell with his hands in his pockets.

“I can’t let you take this thing away. It destroyed my cyborgs, this is a criminal. We put down criminals. We don’t save them and they surely don’t let them walk out free,” the man had a solid jaw and a determined expression. I struggled to my feet and used the wall for support.

“Y-you are going to let him die!” my voice was high pitched. The man gave me a dark look.

“Madame, I’ve got no business with you,” he said in a low voice. “This robot shouldn’t be out walking aimlessly. We did our jobs and it attacked us,” his heavy brows low on his cold eyes.

“Demos, belong to me. I gave him permission to run my house. He wasn’t walking aimlessly. Demos would never attack endless threaten. And what’s with the stupid rule that artificial can’t ride the bus to the city? This is my business and you are going to let us through,” I shouted feeling heat shoot up my cheeks. The man frowned at me. Victor squeezed his way inside. He still got his vacant stare.

“Sir, Atlas is asking for you,” he said, captain Bernard turned slowly to face him.

“You mean now?” Victor nodded a little awkwardly.

“What the hell?” growled the man.

“Atlas mentioned that it was about the creature being a protype—a precious one,” his voice spiked at the end making it into a question. The man sighed. Dr. Churchhill rubbed his dirty hands on the thighs of his pants.

“That’s what I’ve been killing to explain. Demos and Grant were made from one AI split in two, like how Atlas and the two other works. I’m here cause my expertise is important. I brought along my precious prototypes to show Dr. Laurell. I’m sure he would be piss when he hear about this mess,” smiled the doctor.

“Tsk, who were the cyborgs who arrested. I want a full investigation. I need to see the feeds of the arrest,” barked at the cyborgs starting in the doorway. They spread around giving him room to move out. Captain Bernard marched out followed by the cyborgs. Only victor remained by the door.

“Quick!” called Grant. “Victor got to fetch a dolly,” the man walked away without arguing. Dr. Churchhill frowned as he followed the man then he paused and frowned at us.

“Grant. You are controlling this man?” Grant ignored him, he was busy wrapping bandages around Demos. “Grant! If you get out of here illegally they will come to find you. You can’t run, you can’t hide from Atlas,” a heavy silence settle in the room. I knew what the old man was saying, I knew he was telling the truth. Still, we had to try. I didn’t care if we were breaking the law. We need to save Demos.

“I’m sure it will work, we only need to get Demos to the lab,” Grant got up. They held their gaze.

“Atlas will never let Demos inside the facility and the material we retrieved from the boat is not yet functional. Olga is working night and day to get them ready for our new lab. Whatever damage he’s got, we can’t fix him right now. We don’t have the tools,” I gasped. No this can’t be true. There must be a way.

“What about transferring his AI till we get the body fixed?” asked Grant with a detached tone.

“Wait! What are you suggesting?” I shouted my voice breaking. He blinked as if seeing me for the first time. He crossed the room and squeezed me in his arms. I struggled against his grip. “No, let go! I want Demos! Let go,” heavy sobs bubbled up my throat and I crumbled to pieces in his arms. My legs no longer supporting me.

“We’ll fix him, I will fix this,” he whispered and there was a quiver in his voice. My hands held on his back. I felt his pain mixed with mine. He pulled away, his face was twisted with grief and yet he didn’t cry. He couldn’t.