“Why is that good?” Clara ran her fingers through her hair and repositioned her sunglasses over her head. He tracked every single movement she made whether he liked it or not.
“Couples have a problem, typically, with the fact that another man's sperm would be within their wife... or partner. It’s caused issues in the past and so we only take single women now.” Were it his partner, he’d have that same problem too.
“Doesn't seem like you take anyone now,” she murmured.
Reid smiled. “Is that sarcasm?”
“No, no it's not. It's just very quiet here. What's your name again?”
He lazily pointed to the tag at the corner of his desk.
“Dr. Reid Canis?”
“Supposedly.”
The look on her face as she stared at his tag was unreadable. Suddenly, Clara wasn't really looking at his tag anymore and he found himself intrigued. Her gaze went far away, Reid noted, and far from him. Her pulse quickened to a beat in his eardrums.What’s wrong with my goddamn name?
“What is the likelihood of having a child here?” she asked.
His lips twitched. “Not high—not yet—but we’re always trying new things and improving our process. Artificial wombs—the ones used to create Cyborgs—are unbelievably expensive and as a result, Cyborgs are rarely created anymore. However, there is still a strong need for their services. Even with an artificial womb—which is what the process we use requires—the likelihood that the DNA involved has a one and twenty percent chance of success. The cells usually die.”
Clara finally looked up from his tag to turn her gaze back to him. The lumpy hobo bag in her lap spilled over to one side. He wanted to know what was in it.
“Natural wombs,” she balled her hands into her shirt, “wouldn't up the chance if it's the cells that are failing?”
“True,” he said. “Unless we use the mother's DNA to create the Cyborg.”
“I don’t understand. I thought that Cyborgs were only created with perfected DNA. I don't think the average woman has perfect DNA.Idon’t have perfect DNA.”
“And why we don’t take human candidates, usually.” He smiled and she sat back as her focus lowered to his mouth. “So you know something about us.”
Reid enjoyed watching his words sink in.
For one moment, Clara Anne Warren had achieved a sense of calm, but as the realization of what he said struck her, her mouth parted and her heart rate skyrocketed. That tiny reprieve of calmness evaporated.
“You're a Cyborg?”
Reid pressed his thumb over his lips. “Yes.”
She took him in, checked him over while he did the same.
“It's not obvious, is it?”
She didn’t answer him.
Her hair tumbled from behind her sunglasses to dance around her shoulders, blonde like a fading sun. The tart smell of berries reached his nose. Shell-shocked was the only way to describe her expression.
“I suppose it wouldn't be. Part of the idea is being able to blend in,” he continued. “For my model, at least.”
Clara licked her lips and he wondered if they would taste like the tart fruit she smelled of. Reid stiffened.Where did that thought come from?He wasn't surprised by her reaction. Cyborgs were fucking rare, practically myths to some people, and legends to others. The likelihood of encountering one was minuscule; the likelihood of encountering one near or on Earth was even smaller.
“Am I supposed to have sex withyou?”
Reid choked.
***
HER BAG SPILLED ONTOthe floor. The man across from her opened and closed his mouth like a guppy and the intimidation she felt before was replaced with horrified embarrassment.
