More than Human : Scifi Cyborg Romance

By Anna Lewis

A thousand years into the future and Earth is still in a frenzied war between countries who wish to rule each other. Between the battles is Trevor Noble. Injured on the field, his life hangs in the balance as he's flown to a local Navy hospital. Enter Dr. Lena Clark, a world-renowned scientist and surgeon, who brings him back from the brink of death and transforms his body into the greatest weapon known to humans.

As he becomes accustomed to his cyborg body, he struggles with feelings for the sweet doctor, who has started to feel the same. Their attraction could be frowned upon, but that doesn't concern them as a much darker threat looms just outside the atmosphere, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The preoccupied Earth doesn't notice until it's too late, the proud countries distracted by war. How many men would it take to save the Earth? Perhaps only one.

Standalone Romance Stories With No Cliffhanger!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Anna Lewis
• Release date: Feb 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386393580

Book preview

Chapter 1

In a lush field under a cloudy gray sky occurred a great battle of which the people of the West had never before witnessed. Between bloodied trees, men collided in a thunderous roar, shaking the very heavens which frowned upon them with a darkening gaze. A man clad in a Navy uniform carrying an electric ray gun pushed aside some shrapnel with his foot and stepped behind a bush, watching a small troop of soldiers march past him. His name was Trevor Noble and he was a decorated Navy SEAL officer. He thought himself more capable on ocean than land, but here he was. This field was filled with mines and vicious men. It was no place for a sea dog such as himself who took pride in the lavish ships that he helped build.

Around the corner, a general for the opposing side shouted orders to the troop, which spread out as soon as its members received their directions. It wouldn’t be long until Trevor had the general cornered. A few steps to the left and one step forward would reveal the man who had taken his brother’s life. The memory of his slain body was still raw in his mind from the last raid they made.

Stepping forward, he aimed, his arm becoming tense with the desire to kill the man who had taken his brother from this world. He was so close to getting his revenge.

Alfonse, he thought. Alfonse, this is for you.

The electrical gun hummed in his hand as the energy built in order to deliver its intended shot. As he was lining up his sight, a man came barreling from his right and knocked him to the ground. They brawled momentarily until Trevor scurried away, retreating back to the bushes as the general whipped out his gun and pulled the trigger. A beam of light erupted from the end and landed in Trevor’s left leg, sending him tumbling to the ground with a yelp. The soldier who had tackled him wielded his weapon as well, taking a higher shot to the left arm of the naval officer.

While bleeding out into the soil, Trevor watched the ships pass overhead and wondered how this even began, questioning the very nature of war, all while trying to hold in his very life force. The two men who had fired their guns were drawing nearer. It wouldn’t be long before they decided to blast him once more, finishing him off. He would leave this warring world and join his brother.

Alfonse came to his mind just then, the freckles of his face like the stars above. What was he fighting for? Why had this ever begun, when Earth was under increasing threat by attackers from another galaxy, the news of whom aired nightly?

Breathing raggedly beneath the hair strewn across his face, Trevor watched as the two men came into view. Their eyes gathered the image before them, reveling their victory over the enemy that they were about to vanquish. It would be too soon for the men to celebrate as a few men from his troop rushed the scene, jumping over Trevor’s shivering body as he attempted to keep himself awake. Two shots in their direction sent them running and voices filled the air, giving the wounded officer something to focus on. Blood was gushing from his body. His breath came in rapid waves, the humid air forcing him to choke as pain rattled through his body.

Standing at his side was one of his men. Trevor was wounded, ragged. The man’s lips moved, but no sound came. Had he lost his hearing? Another wave of ships roared through the sky, sending pulses of sound that vibrated the earth beneath his wounded body. It seemed to send a wave of heat with it. Trevor clung to any stimuli that would keep his mind from focusing on the awful stinging pain radiating from his wounds. His lips moved slowly.

Please... he whispered through tears. Avenge me.

As Trevor reached up to grab the arm of his comrade, the world around him plunged into darkness and the silence remained. It rang in his ears as he dipped into unconsciousness. His troop quickly wrapped his wounds and then carried him on a stretcher towards a helicopter that would lift them up over the battle field and transport them to a local Navy hospital. The flight was unsteady as the pilot dodged random ships and flak that shot up from the ground. Most emergency copters were safe in war zones, but this particular battle had been fueled by passion and fury which made it difficult to evacuate the wounded. The building came into view and the pilot maneuvered them down to the landing strip where medical personnel were waiting for him.

Medics rushed him through a series of hallways while expertly inserting an IV into his arm, checking his vitals and flashing a light into his eyes.

Unresponsive, said one.

Heart rate dropping, said another.

Get him to surgery. Call Dr. Clark.

A rush of energy pushed them through the last hall and they shoved through the double doors of the operating room. There, nurses dove into their work, cutting away pieces of clothing and checking wounded limbs. After analyzing the damage, she began to put pressure on the gaping holes in his leg while instructing another nurse to do the same for his arm.

There’s far too much damage to the nerves in this leg, commented one nurse while another jotted information on a clipboard. And his arm is damaged, too. Those guns are getting stronger by the day.

It’s such a tragedy, said the nurse holding the clipboard.

That’s why we must save him, replied the other.

While they put pressure on wounds to stop more blood from escaping, the surgeon overseeing the procedure walked into the room and began studying the naval officer who was lying half dead on the operating table. She was Dr. Lena Clark, a surgeon who had become world-renowned during the last two wars, not only for her surgical expertise, but also her expertise in cryptology and linguistics.

She looked at Trevor’s face, eyes closed, tired and battered. For a moment, she paused in her work to observe his features. But she got back to work so quickly that no one else even noticed the pause at all.

She barked orders at the nurses surrounding her and retrieved two large stainless steel limbs from the room next door. Her latest project had been to transform valuable officers into cyborgs who would be ready for battle, a new weapon that could swing the balance in the war against the Eastern Alliance.

The advancement of medical science by Lena was astounding and she had won a Nobel Prize early in her career, when the world recognized her genius. She stood over the operating table, measuring Trevor’s limbs for proper fitting. The poor man would be in a great deal of pain for a long time with these new additions, but it would be worth saving his life. Some would argue that this sort of life-saving work was actually detrimental to the survivor as they would have to live out their existence as something different than before. But then again, that’s all war did. It changed people into that which was different, returning to their homes as broken shells of their former selves who would never be able to grasp reality in the same way ever again.

Lena hoped that the procedure would offer Trevor a new chance at life, even if the reasons behind the operation were purely military ones: to use the wounded in war, rather than have to house them in a hospital, where they would be of no use to the war effort. It was her chance to prove how her work could change the battlefield forever and that she was worth recognizing in the military. The world had recognized her worth. Now she wanted the armies to reach out to her for help. There was no room for failure.

Chapter 2

Eyes fluttering and heart beating slowly, Trevor Noble stirred from his anesthesia. The surgery had been a great success and Lena stood outside the door while Trevor came back to consciousness, her arms folded across her chest as she watched the naval officer wake. Gasping, he rose from the pillows and looked around in a panic, the memory of his attack seemingly fresh in his mind. But the ringing in his ears faded, and he started to recognize his surroundings.

Where...? he asked no one in particular. Where am I?

You’re at the Base Naval Hospital of the Western Alliance, replied Lena as she entered the room. You’ve had quite an accident, Commander Noble.

Trevor was panting, the images of the shooting returning to him all at once and causing a blinding headache. He raised his hands to his face. That moment had meant everything and he had failed. His wonderful brother would not rest in peace until he was able to destroy that evil general who had sent him to his death. The weight of his failure crushed his chest. Or was that the morphine?

You should lie down, Commander. I must explain what we did during your procedure, Lena said while shutting the door. A couple of changes have been made to your physiology.

My what? he asked, looking down at the sheets.

Lying on the pale white blanket was a cybernetic piece of metal, the elbow whirling a bit as it moved around. The dim lights decorating the forearm and hand blinked a few times and then went dim, glowing underneath the fluorescent lights of the recovery room. Lena leaned over and pushed a hidden button, and then opened a compartment to press a few keys underneath. A ball of energy formed in the palm of the cybernetic hand, whirling between the barely moving fingers and then dissipating.

Commander Noble, welcome to the world of science, she said proudly. I’ve fixed you with a new cybernetic arm and leg. We’ll have you going through physical therapy within the next week.

Cybernetic?! he asked, shock overwhelming his body.

The heart monitor next to the bed began to beep rapidly and Lena shushed him, warning him that raising his heart rate might cause his new additions to malfunction if he didn’t learn how to control his body.

Malfunction? That’s heavily reassuring, doc, he said with a snide tone.

It’s all part of your physical therapy. We’ll get you back on the field in six weeks, she explained, ignoring his comment.

I’m not returning to that field, lady. Have you seen it out there? he said while peering under the sheet. Well, I thought I’d get a cybernetic dick, but apparently you’re fresh out.

Lena blinked her eyes a few times in disbelief of the man sitting in front of her. She had saved his life, brought him back from the brink of death and improved his body. Who did he think he was? Chagrined by the comment, she walked to the end of the bed and checked his chart on the touch screen. The hero was still chattering away about the war zone and how close he had been to completing his mission, something she didn’t ever ask about when injured soldiers came under her care. It wasn’t her business and she didn’t like digging because many of them painted extravagant stories about their experiences that caused her nightmares. The job came with a price. She knew that was true for the both of them.

So, when do I start therapy? Trevor asked, fixing the sheets around him.

Lena looked over his chart again and clicked her tongue.

Well, we need you to rest first, Commander, she replied. But I imagine we’ll start by the end of this week.

What day is it? he asked.

Tuesday, she responded.

That’s weird, he commented.

What? she asked.

It doesn’t feel like a Tuesday.

The comment made her titter and she covered her mouth, the red lipstick staining the tips of her fingers that were worn from working on those cybernetic limbs for the past twelve hours. She could use a nap. Any time a procedure took longer than a few hours, she noticed her vision would tunnel and she would end up falling asleep on the cot in the supply closet, where a nurse would wake her after a couple of hours. This was