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  THEIR HYBRID

  By Skye MacKinnon

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THEIR HYBRID

  First edition. August 17, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Skye MacKinnon.

  Written by Skye MacKinnon.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Blurb

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  About the Author

  ALSO BY

  To Darwin and Emma, who love nibbling on my socks. I've not dedicated a book to you in too long.

  Blurb

  She was born to serve. Pity she doesn’t want to.

  DX-4, also known as Dex, is a hybrid: not quite human, not quite machine. She spends her days running errands for her three masters, until one day she ends up in a bit of a pickle.

  Meaning she could be killed for what she did.

  Her masters try everything they can to help her, but will it be enough? And is her heart human enough to return their love?

  A steampunk reverse harem novella set in a dystopian world.

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Turn right at that junction. Watch out for strays."

  Yes, I know. It's not like I haven't walked this route every day for the past five years. But still, Dan tells me what to do. He's very controlling in a way, but in a kind way. He's protective of me, I think. Although maybe that's just wishful thinking. I'm their property, after all, of course he's interested in keeping me safe.

  "Careful, there's something on the ground just ahead of you."

  Yes, I can see that. It's a rat, dead and bloated. I cringe as I step over it, trying not to breathe in the foul air. Sometimes I wish I could transmit more than just my sight to my masters. They don't know how the city smells and reeks. Maybe they'd not make me go out as much if they knew. But of course, they don't, and they likely never will.

  I walk faster, wanting to get out of this area as soon as possible. Not that my destination is any more pleasant, but there are less dead animals on the pavements in the Green Zone. The unpleasantness there isn't obvious. In fact, it's probably the cleanest and nicest looking part of the city. Instead, the corruption lies beneath the surface, beyond the polished windows.

  I shiver as I think of the man I'm going to see. I wish my masters wouldn't force me to.

  "Dex, there's something on the lens."

  I huff and wipe the lens of my implanted eyecam with my soiled shirt sleeve. Not sure it's going to make a difference, but I can't actually see through that eye. Only my masters can. I have one human and one mechanical eye. I don't remember if I ever had two human eyes, but it doesn't matter. Dwelling in the past is useless, I've learned that a long time ago.

  "That's better. Thanks, Dex."

  I smile at Dan's nickname for me. My real name is DX-4, but he found that too boring, so he turned it into Dex. I like it. It almost makes me feel like a real person, someone with a proper name and identity.

  I continue my walk, knowing that I'm getting ever closer to my destination. The grime and stink of the Brown Zone are getting lesser and I can see trees in the distance. The only trees in the entire city. The people in the Green Zone are the richest of the rich, the only ones who can escape the smog-covered areas and live amongst nature. I'm sure most of the dwellers in the lesser zones have never even seen a tree, let alone touched one. Or even breathed the clean air that I'm beginning to feel on my face.

  A large iron gate separates the Green Zone from the rest of the city. There are two Watchers on duty and I sigh in relief when I notice that neither of them is a full human. Us hybrids are on the same level, Watchers or not, but the pure humans always think they're above us. Well, they are. Everybody knows that. They made us, after all, which is why they feel they can do whatever they want to us. And being a female hybrid about to enter a zone full of pure humans... it's not an ideal situation. No matter how highly they think of themselves, some humans are predators. Evil. Dangerous.

  My masters are aware of that, but they can't do anything about it. They can see through my mechanical eye and they can hear what I do, but that's it. They can't fight attackers off for me. They can't protect me when darkness falls and the city's unsavoury characters crawl onto the street. No, I'm on my own.

  "What do ya want?" one of the hybrids asks, his metal eyebrows raising at the same time as his mechanical lips open and close. He's definitely more than half metal. His colleague looks mostly human though, if it wasn't for the mechanical arm that is now pointing a revolver at me.

  "I'm here to see Mr Bradley on behalf of my masters."

  I hand them my ID plate which contains all the information they require. If they are clever enough to access it. Not all of the hybrids are. I sometimes wonder if the conversion has a negative effect on the brain, or if they were stupid before.

  The guy with the metal arm takes my ID and disappears into the tiny guardhouse while the other one watches me curiously. They must be new. I come here most days; usually the guards know me.

  His metal eyebrows twitch as he's trying to figure out why I'm here. Not many hybrids are allowed into this zone. It's reserved for humans, mostly. The only hybrids in here are servants. Not that they get paid, but most humans don't like using the word 'slaves'. It makes them sounds bad, so they keep referring to us as servants.

  "What's the hold-up?" Dan asks and I wipe the lens of my eye again. Can't he see that the hybrid is still in the guardhouse?

  He sighs. "It's getting dark soon, you shouldn't be out there for much longer."

  I look at the large clock tower in the distance, barely visible behind the rows of pretty brick houses. Almost four. With all the smog, it gets dark at five, sometimes even earlier. It's rare nowadays that the smoke lifts its grip on the city. We live in perpetual dusk that drives many people mad.

  "It seems all is in order," the second hybrid says in a deep voice, handing me back my ID. "You have two hours in the Zone, don't stay here for longer than that."

  He gives me a smile and I look at him in surprise. People don't smile in the Green Zone. Especially not hybrids. He's most definitely new.

  I nod at him in return and wait for the gate to open.

  It's the same screech as every time. They should really oil it for once. But most people living in the Zone never leave. They send their servants or hybrids out to get them things. Or have stuff delivered - which is precisely what I'm doing right now.

  I hurry along the brick roads like so many times before. I could do this in my sleep, if I did sleep. I vaguely remember what that was like, but it's only a fleeting memory.

  At the end of a narrow close on my right is Mr Bradley's house. It's large and imposing, with big windows that seem to stare at me from afar.

  He's one of the richest men in the city, if not the richest, so he can afford a home this size despite the housing crisis. He's got dozens of hybrid servants and guards, all made by Bradley Enterprises, the same company that created me. He called himself my father, once, and it still creeps me out. Hybrids don't have parents.

  I use the large lion knocker, banging it hard against the brass door. Only seconds later, a servant opens the door and waves me inside. They've probably seen me approach, or the hybrids at the gate have notified them. Either way, I am led straight into Mr Bradley's dining room, where he's waiting for me. He's eating a massive lobster that's far too big for the plate it sits on. Breaking apart one of the claws with
a crunch, he ignores me and focuses on his dinner instead. I'm tempted to check my pocket watch for the time. I can't stay here for long.

  Finally, once he's eaten the meat in the lobster claw, he turns to me with a smile.

  "How much do you have?"

  "One pound, as agreed," I answer stiffly, dreading what's to come.

  His eyes turn greedy as he gets up and comes towards me. I'm tempted to back away but I know there's no escaping this.

  "Arm," he commands and I hesitantly stretch out my right arm. It's the metal one; the one that is the most non-human part of me. He grips my elbow tight and with a quick twist, he detaches the metal part from my upper arm. I bite down a scream; it hurts the way he does it. My masters are much more gentle; they do it slowly and carefully. Mr Bradley doesn't care about my pain.

  He opens a hidden latch and turns the arm over, emptying the contents onto the mahogany table. One pound of finest opium powder in an iron cylinder. It's what my masters trade in, it's how they sustain themselves. Chained to their house, unable to breathe in the toxic air, they've become traders - in illicit things, mostly. This opium was likely supposed to end up with someone else, but they substituted the real stuff and took a pound for Mr Bradley. It's how they pay for me.

  Of course you can buy opium on the streets - almost every shop in the lesser Zones sells laudanum - but this is different. It's pure, undiluted, of the highest quality. The stuff usually reserved for royalty.

  Mr Bradley isn't royal, but he likes to think he is. I'm not sure he even takes the opium himself; maybe he only offers it to guests to show his wealth.

  I've seen opium dens before, dark places where men search for oblivion; full of smoke, sweat and broken dreams. It's only the lower classes who frequent those dens. I can't imagine Mr Bradley lying on a stained mattress, drooling as he babbles about his lost love.

  He carefully opens the cylinder and inspects the opium. It's an ochre powder and looks no more harmful than pepper. Sadly, I've seen the effect it can have on people. They get emotional, relive old memories, become corpse-like dreamers. And some become overly friendly with the hybrids working in some of the dens.

  Mr Bradley takes a bowl and empties the opium into it, before weighing it on a beautiful set of bronze scales.

  "It's not enough." He grabs me by the shoulder and pulls me close until he's looking straight into my eyecam. "It's not enough," he repeats.

  "Tell him it's exactly one pound, as agreed," Luke's deep voice comes through my earpiece.

  I do as my master tells me, even though I know that Mr Bradley won't believe it.

  "Look at the scales, it's not a pound!"

  Mr Bradley shoves me towards the table and bends me down until my eyecam is pointing at the scales. He's right, it's an ounce less than what it should be. I can't believe that it's my masters' fault though. Maybe Mr Bradley manipulated the scales?

  He roughly turns me around again so he can be seen through my eyecam.

  "I demand extra payment," he growls. "Two hours with this hybrid should do."

  I gasp at his suggestion. He's still holding me uncomfortably tight, his face far too close to mine. I've always found him repulsive, but today he's become outright creepy.

  "Don't worry, Dex," Dan says calmly. "We'll find another solution."

  "Tell him we'll send an extra ounce next time," James instructs and Luke makes an approving sound. All three of them are watching what's happening. In a way, that's reassuring, but it also doesn't help me in the slightest. They're not here and they won't be able to protect me from Mr Bradley. No, I have to do that myself.

  "They're saying they'll send an extra ounce tomorrow," I tell him, but he shakes his head.

  "Not good enough. They had their chance, they blew it. I'll take you as payment today, and if they don't send at least two more ounces tomorrow, I'll get to have you again."

  I shudder at the thought. There are entire hybrid brothels for men who prefer hybrids over real women - or who can't find a woman - but thanks to my masters, I've never been exposed to any such thing.

  And now Mr Bradley is looking at me in that strange way, his mouth opening...

  I knee him in the balls. It's not even the leg that's been reinforced with metal, but he cries out nonetheless, clutching his crotch with both hands, jumping up and down. It would be funny if it... well, if it wasn't.

  "Guards!" he shouts, his voice suddenly high pitched rather than the deep baritone he usually has.

  I grab my metal arm and run, just about managing to evade his grasp.

  People are running down the creaky staircase, but I'm already halfway out of the house, fleeing for my life. I run and run, along the street I just came from, ignoring the windows opening all around and the people staring down at me. Some are cheering me on, others are starting to throw things at me.

  But I run on, towards the gate, tears running down my cheeks.

  Did I just destroy my masters' livelihood?

  CHAPTER TWO

  By the time I get back home, it’s grown dark. The street lamps are illuminating the smog wafting through the narrow lane and I wrap my scarf closer around my face. I don't want to breathe in too much of the city's poisonous air. It's worst now in the summer when the heat gets trapped between buildings, warming the dust and dirt on the streets. It's not a nice place to live, not at all. Often, I wish I was living somewhere else, out in the countryside, but as a hybrid, you live wherever your masters live. And in my case, I should call myself lucky that their house is in the outskirts of the city. Far enough out that the air doesn't kill them, close enough that they can afford it. Living in the city is cheap; the more crowded, the less you have to pay. My masters aren't poor, but they're also nowhere near as rich as the people living in the Green Zone. They could be earning more if their health was better, but that's not something that can be changed.

  All three of them have the same lung condition, and even just walking outside in the smog for a few minutes make them cough terribly. They could die from it, so they stay inside, trapped in their own home, conducting business from there. That means they either have to ask their clients to come to them, or they send me. Which is why I'm running between their house and the Green Zone every day, doing errands. It's not always bringing things to Mr Bradley; sometimes it's just sending telegrams or getting money from the bank.

  They didn’t buy me; they’re not the type of people to buy a slave. I was a gift from an associate, and they took me in rather than have me go to someone not as kind as themselves. I’m grateful for it; I have a good life with them.

  My masters' house is at the end of a narrow close, an anonymous door on a long row of houses. They all look the same. It's a boring neighbourhood, but my masters don't have to see what's around them. For them, the inside is what matters, and they've done that up as good as they could.

  I unlock the door - they always keep it locked even when they're in - and quietly walk up the carpeted staircase leading to the living quarters. Downstairs is the office and storerooms, upstairs is where we live. Where they live. I have a bed in the attic.

  They've not said anything while I was running home. Does that mean they don't want to see me? They must be terribly displeased. I may have cost them everything.

  I sneak along the corridor leading to the attic trapdoor, making as little noise as possible.

  "We know you're here!" a deep voice calls out from the living room and I sigh. Of course they do. They always know where I am; they can see it for themselves through the camera embedded in my skull.

  If I had a tail, I would now be walking with it hanging between my legs.

  I enter the living room, opening the door just wide enough to slip inside.

  All three of my masters are there, sitting by the fireplace. It's summer, but they have it on nonetheless. 'A home without a fire isn't a home', Dan likes to say. Mr Daniel, I correct in my head. I shouldn't be calling them by their nicknames while I'm in the same room. It might slip out and distor
t our relationship even further. I'm just a hybrid, made to serve humans. I'm not supposed to be friends with them.

  "Dex, come on in," James says quietly but firmly. I shut the door behind me and take a few steps inside, not sure what to do. There are only three large armchairs in the room, and all three of them are currently occupied by my masters.

  Dan, James and Luke. Three brothers, so similar they could almost be triplets. Maybe they are, they've never told me. And why would they...

  All three of them have dark, almost black hair, but while Luke tames his in a ponytail, the other two have theirs cut short. Dan's hair is a little curlier than James's and I wish he'd let it grow so I can see the curls. They are clean-shaven as always and meticulously dressed in dark suits, complete with waistcoats and pocket handkerchiefs.

  They look ready to go to a dinner party, but sadly, they never do. I've heard stories of how they did leave the house occasionally when they were younger, taking a carriage that would mostly protect them from the air, but they don't anymore. Even though they're my masters and a lot more important than I am, I sometimes pity them.

  “We’ve talked about what happened,” James begins slowly and my heart begins to beat faster. “And we all agree that you did the right thing. He had no right to treat you like that or threaten what he did.”

  “We feel terrible because we exposed you to danger,” Dan adds. “I know it’s dangerous in the city, and you have to go out there every day, but I hope you know we wouldn’t make you do that if we could do it ourselves. One of us is always watching though, and we do have measures in place to help you should something happen.”

  “You do?” I ask in surprise.

  Dan smiles gently. “Of course we do. You’re our Dex, we wouldn’t just leave you out there.”

  I smile back. A warm feeling is spreading through my belly. They actually care for me. I always tried to ignore the signs because I didn’t want to be disappointed, but here they are, telling me that they’d find a way to rescue me. Not that I’d need rescuing. I’m strong, independent and smart. That’s the way I was made.