• Eventually, the old woman left us. The absolute silence that fell upon the room was proof of the undeniable tension between us. He, the vain man himself, had noticed it. He sat back up with knowledge I would not be provoked by his “playful” nature. He seemed somewhat disheartened by this. All the same, he sensed that there was something different about me… Something different, that other girls did not have… Finally he noticed.

    “What’s wrong with you?” he snapped.

    “I am Cyborg 000001, Akaan. I have no need for procedures you are programmed for,” I replied.

    “I thought so. I guess that’s why you’re better lookin’ than the other girls that woman brings to me,” he said.

    “She thinks you’re her real son, does she not?” I said.

    “It’s not my fault. Her son is long gone, died in some battle when the war was going on. Some scientist felt bad and here I am. I guess I’m exactly like him, so don’t blame me for the way I am. We clear on that?” he explained.

    “We are cyborgs. We are cyborgs and only that. We can do nothing about it.” I said.

    He looked at me, understanding every word I had said perfectly. Just because he was made to act exactly alike to a human, did not mean he still could not think like the cyborg he was. That was comforting to me somehow, conversing with my kin.

    He picked up a small fruit from one of the many trays between us. He examined it, attempting to find the appeal. Cyborgs could eat human food and extract nutrients from the food that could be converted into fuel, though we had not done so much. We could not taste or feel its texture. It was no fun to eat food. We would much rather be plugged into an outlet and stand by a wall for hours on end.

    “You don’t see the appeal either?” I asked.

    “Nope,” he replied.

    “Do human women look nice to you?” I said/

    He looked over at me with a puzzled look pasted onto his face. This question must have been so alien to him. He had never expected it. I, for one, was curious.

    “I… Suppose?” he answered awkwardly.

    “You suppose?” I said.

    “I don’t really want to answer.” he said with a blush.

    He was a well-made cyborg. He could even blush, he could care, he could like. At least, his programming told him he could. There was a chance that he was an advanced cyborg after all. No normal cyborg had those features. He could prove useful in the future.

    “You do, do you not. It is not as if it matters to me. It is just, I have not met many of our kind that can feel or act so much like regular humans. I have rarely known a super-human cyborg such as myself. You know of my brand. You should, anyway.” I said.

    “Super human. Of course. You look like you’re a good model or proto-type. Your voice could be a little more expressive. Maybe you could look a bit more like normal people but… Nah, you wouldn’t be super human if you were normal,” he retorted.

    He ate the fruit in his hand, swallowing it hard. I contemplated whether to eat some of the food or not. It would be such a waste. Silence had fell upon the scarcely lit room once again. There was a possibility that the old woman would come back to check on us. It would be quite a surprise to find us the same way as she had left us, like we were statues. Maybe, I thought, maybe I could ask him to go to the Cyborg Island with me to see Dante. Would he be able to leave that woman whom he was built to comfort, so she would not have to suffer such a great grief? I did not know. There was only one way to find out.