Our Trans-Cyborg Overlords
(Our Trans-Cyborg Overlords was written in response to a GOP politician claiming that trans people are planning to build cyborgs and take over the world. Paranoia is as paranoia does, or something))
They know I’m here. I can feel them.
Looking up from the page, Dirk adjusted the dim light from his homemade candle and dipped his quill into the ink he’d made from blood and soot. No other light entered his bunker.
How am I to escape? They have enhanced vision, reflexes, muscles. I am just flesh and bone. As far as I know, I’m the last one. The last male.
“Dirk? Dirk?!? Are you hungry?” A bright light shined suddenly into his bunker and Dirk shut his eyes against it, refusing to look at his
“Put it next to the door,” he muttered. “And shut it.”
His sibling Addy (sister, he thought, sister) silently swapped his honey bucket before setting down his food and leaving.
“The door’s always open,” they (she!) said. The light from Addy’s enhanced eyes glowed in the dim light as they gazed at him sadly.
He looked away. “Are there others like me?”
His sibling smiled sadly. “You are unique,” they said, “and precious. But no, you are not alone. Come out and see.”
Dirk knew it was a trick. “Go,” He returned to his writing.
The door closed on him as Addy retreated. They carried the honey pot to the toilet and dumped the contents, flushing them down, and disinfected their smooth, silicon hands.
In the common room of the house, the rest of Dirk’s and Addy’s siblings were watching holovision. “Is he okay?” their youngest sibling, Pol, asked.
“No, honey,” Addy replied, “He’s not. But we’ll keep loving him anyhow.”
“Is he still a boy?” Pol asked. “I think I want to be a boy, too.”
“Yes, he is,” Addy answered. “And that’s fine. For him, and for you.”
“Okay.” Pol went back to watching his show.
(happy #TransDayOfVisibility, folks)
(looking forward to our trans-cyborg overlords, myself.
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