005 and 001

It only started recently, within the last three or four months. 001 and I began to each learn something new. If I took the time to explain it to Dr Gilmore, it would likely ignite his scientific curiosity like nothing else. After all, this is probably some sort of breakthrough in terms of human development and could revolutionise how we perceive communication and language. The only thing is, I don't think I even want to share this with the team yet, let alone anyone out there in the normal world. Since my operation, a lot of the things that seemed absolute and definite have ended up being fragile and uncertain, but I think I can at least trust myself to know when some things should not be revealed. A sunflower-yellow flame in a campfire, casting a volley of sparks into a sky alive with stars. A warm blanket around my shoulders and a mug of warm tea between my hands. Safety, trust and quiet. He agrees with me.

When he wants me to know he's hungry, he shows me the inside of a bus station. I remember so many times as a teenager when I sat in bus stations absolutely starving, having spent the last of whatever money I had on the bus fare. At the end of each journey, there would be another job, but until then, I always seemed to find myself seated in another bus station with an hour, two hours or even a whole night to wait through. He shows me one of them and I know he's hungry, so I feed him, and usually myself afterwards too.

At first, that's all it was. A lonely bus station for hunger, getting caught unprepared in a torrential rainstorm in Chicago for cold and discomfort; even a not-so-minor incident at a crosswalk when some white guy in a pick up truck decided not to stop at the lights for pain. (I had the scar from that particular incident right up to the day of my operation; now the skin's smooth as the day I was born.) But, it's grown since then. Now, I can attach a different feeling to each of the others in the team through our connection. Things like the taste soy sauce and ginger for 006, the feeling of cold metal against my hand for 004 or the roaring of engines for 002. He tells me about them through this new language we share.

Why does he do it? My guess would be that, for him at least, language doesn't come naturally. His father operated on him before he had a chance to learn any spoken or written languages, and I would guess that trying to teach him now wouldn't be possible. When 001 hears the rest of us speaking, he just hears random sounds and inflections. Written words are just indecipherable lines and squiggles and the voices that come from the TV are just noise. What he understands is actually the signals our brains make when we speak; the back-and-forth of braincells and neurons. When he "speaks" with us, he is simply convincing our brains that we are hearing sound as he wants us to hear it, which I suppose is why we each her him speaking in our native languages. But it isn't natural for him.

I can't imagine what it's like for him though. No-one has any secrets from him; if he had any desire to do so he could tear each and every one of us apart inside and out. He can see us better than we see ourselves: the dark parts inside that we keep hidden from the rest of the world, all the white lies, the deep fears and bitter truths. I can make a reasonable guess at parts of it – 002's anger, 008's fear, Dr Gilmore's guilt – but, I would assume that I can see a single leaf, whereas 001 can see the entire tree, roots and all. Anyone else would probably be driven mad by that much information, that much sheer emotion all at once, but not him. Even just seeing people's real personalities without any veneer or barriers must be horrible. Everyone has thoughts that can never be said out loud, things in their heads formed by anger, sorrow or fear that could cause real pain if they make it to the surface. It's a real testament to his strength and patience that he hasn't changed how he acts around us all. If he did choose not to help us anymore we wouldn't last more than a month.

A pair of wrinkled old hands, decorated with beaded bangles, clutching my own tiny hands in them. A kiss on my forehead and a hug that smells of old tobacco and ground coffee beans. Family. Just for a moment, I feel an urge to run out and get back to my birth family. But I know I won't. It won't feel like it does in my memories anyway, and I can't leave my new family behind.

I look to him, this tiny, helpless, mighty, all-powerful child. A mop of grey-brown hair, obscuring a serious little face; tiny little hands that can barely grip one of my fingers; legs that will forever be too small and weak for him to walk by himself. His life is a balance of helping the rest of us fight for our lives and sleep. Most of us in the team didn't have ideal childhoods, but at least we got to be children. We all had lives before becoming cyborgs; we had friends and loved ones, times we can look back on and draw strength from when things get too much. For 001, this is the only life he has ever been aware of and the team are the only family he has ever had. We rely on him completely and there's so little we can do for him. What kind of world do we live in where an infant has this much responsibility and so little to enjoy in life?

A middle-aged woman, holding a crisp $50 note in her gloved hand, offering the note as a gesture of benediction and superiority. Her face is a mask of simpering concern and condescending sanctimoniousness. My hands clench into fists of their own accord and the words form in my head: I don't need your pity.The woman vanishes and the rest of the team are in my mind now. Through Ivan's power, their thoughts and emotions tumble out like water from a burst gutter in a rainstorm, pity, fear, guilt, anger; everything at once. 008 looks at Ivan in anger. How could they do that to a child? Will these monsters stop at nothing? 003 is filled with sadness. The poor thing, it's all just so cruel. 002 is filled with guilt. He can see it all. Everything I ever did wrong. 004 is melancholy. I would have been a terrible father; she would have been a wonderful mother. 006 is even a little afraid. Power like that is too much for the human race. It could lead to destruction. 007 still reels at the mere idea of it. It's just not possible; it can't be. And 009 has only pity. He's just like me. We've both been left behind by our parents. Much like a lot of the things 001 sees, they probably aren't even realising what they're thinking; the reactions are all instinct, shaped by the lives they lived before all of this.

OK, Ivan. I see now. It's my turn now to try and communicate in his way. I close my eyes and try to focus my mind on a moment that he can understand. New faces, all shaken by fear and adrenaline, but the smiles are real. The team is gathered on the Dolphin for the first time. I look at each of the other cyborgs standing beside me and I can sense it. Trust, respect and camaraderie. I can't promise not to feel bad for you, Ivan, but I will try to respect you. You're as important a member of this team as any of us and we won't get anywhere by treating you like you're helpless.

In response, he raises up his arms towards me. As gently as I can, I pick him up and hold him close. Even with the enhancements in him he weighs next to nothing, or maybe I've just gotten strong enough that I don't notice at all. The smile comes unbidden to my face.

"Don't worry, little brother. I've got you, just like you've got me."