Nebula's Music Read Free Page A

species, not yet considered an equal partner in the UPA.
    Now the ship was on course and the rebels phased in, Angstrom would be off duty. She turned on her screen and buzzed his private room. Minutes went by before he answered, his slotted green eyes sleepy and his tube hair sticking out. He seemed surprised to hear from her. “Nebula? What’s up?”
    “Angstrom, I need someone to talk to concerning a private matter.”
    Her words drew him closer to the screen. His voice was soft, tinged with concern. “You bet, Neb. I’m here for you.”
    “Can you meet me in the lounge at the bar?”
    “Right now?” He glanced at the pajamas he wore.
    Nebula’s face was blank as a computer screen on sleep mode. “It cannot wait.”
    “All right. Be there in ten minutes.” He shut off the connection and her monitor faded to black.
    Nebula buzzed herself out of her room and walked swiftly to the officer’s lounge on Deck Fourteen. The ship was quiet during third shift and she passed only a few guards in the hall. They nodded to her as she stepped by. One perk to being a cyborg was no one questioned her motives or purpose. All cyborgs were programmed to benefit the common good and complete missions as ordered. Why would anyone think she would do otherwise?
    Nebula entered the lounge and took a seat at the far end of the bar. The bartender bowed his head to acknowledge her, but didn’t offer anything. Everyone on board knew she didn’t drink or eat as frequently as humans. Engineered for optimal efficiency, she could go for five days without water and fifteen without food.
    Angstrom joined her moments later, his hair tied back like a stem of celery behind his head. He had on his UPA uniform as well. “Hey, Neb, don’t let the uniform rush you. I had to suit up because I go on duty in an hour. But I still have time to talk.” He looked to the bartender and ordered guavarian juice with ice.
    “My apologies for disturbing your rest.” Nebula was programmed with a full repertoire of appropriate responses. Although it was well intentioned, her words came out flat. She couldn’t help the lack of inflection and she knew it. Before that night, her emotional deficiency was never an issue, but just then, she felt like the even response wasn’t enough.
    She was lucky Angstrom knew better than to expect a heartfelt sympathy from a cyborg. He waved it away. “No problem. I had to get up anyway and eat something or else my stomach would be rumbling all day.”
    The bartender came back with a sparkling lavender drink with a cherry on top. Nebula waited until he placed it down and walked to the other side of the bar before she continued. “My differences are the reason why I asked you to meet me here tonight.”
    A serious look stretched on Angstrom’s face and he sobered. “What do you mean?”
    Nebula paused. There was no turning back once the question was voiced out loud.
    Angstrom waited on her next words. He always backed her up, even when she made mistakes that humans would scoff at. She knew she could trust him.
    “Have you ever heard of a cyborg having memories from the past?”
    Angstrom took a swig of his drink. “Well, yes, all cyborgs have memories. Don’t you remember the time we caught Venus kissing the captain after their team won the strobe fight?”
    “Not their own memories. Memories from before they were made.”
    “Wow.” Angstrom put down his glass. “You mean the memories of the people they were made from?”
    Nebula nodded and his face blanched.
    “Never. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” He took her hand. “Do you mean to tell me you’re having memories you can’t account for? Memories from a different life?”
    Nebula nodded again. “Memories from Earth.”
    “But you’ve never been there. How do you know that’s where they’re from?”
    “I identified the images from my databank in my central circuit board.”
    “Wowee.” Angstrom leaned forward. “Have you notified the cybernetics