Her heart sank at the thought of her brother Galbraith ending up in the hands of people who saw him as just another project to be completed. Delia sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Galbraith, and felt a wave of panic rise in her chest. Thoughts of his future haunted her. Images appeared in her mind-gray training halls where infants like him were transformed into soulless soldiers, following orders without hesitation.
"No," she whispered, looking at his tiny, peaceful face. "You can't go through this. You can't become what they want you to be."
Plans began to form in Delia's mind. She needed to act. Thinking of Schaeymoure, she decided she needed to talk to him. He was her mentor, and although he sometimes had strange ideas, Delia knew he was always on her side. She hoped he could help her find a way to protect Galbraith from those who planned to use him.
As Delia left her room, a sense of determination washed over her. She hurried through the corridors of Moonbase toward Schaeymoure's office, her steps confident. She felt a fire burning inside her, ready to ignite. When she finally reached Schaeymoure's office, she knocked and entered without waiting for an answer. The sergeant looked up from his papers and, noticing her anxious expression, immediately knew something was wrong.
"Delia, what happened?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
"I need to talk to you," she began, trying to pull herself together. "It's important. It concerns Galbraith."
Schaeymoure frowned, noticing the seriousness of her tone. Delia, having collected her thoughts, began to talk about her fears, about how her brother should not become part of the war machine, about the horrors that awaited him in the future.
"Schaeymoure, he can't be someone else's tool," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "He should be able to live his life like anyone else. I can't let that happen!"
The sergeant listened attentively, and it was clear from his face that he understood the seriousness of the situation.
"Delia, I understand how you feel. This is a difficult situation, and I can't say I didn't expect you to react this way. But you have to understand that some things are beyond our control. We are in a very difficult political situation, and Galbraith is not the only project we are pursuing."
Delia looked at Schaeymoure, her heart aching with despair.
"You don't understand," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "He won't be a regular soldier. He won't have the choices you and I do. This isn't just service; this is his life, at stake. He won't be able to laugh with his friends, he won't be able to just be a kid."
Schaeymoure leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, his face expressionless, as if he had heard her but didn't want to take her words seriously.
"Delia, the army has rules, and service is an honor. Galbraith was created for one purpose, and he will do it. This is what he was meant to do."
"Destined?" She almost screamed. "He can't be destined just to follow someone else's orders! He's not a robot, Schaeymoure! He's a living person, and he has the right to a life of choice and freedom!"
Her voice cracked with suppressed emotion, but Schaeymoure didn't seem to notice her pain. He simply continued to look at her with the same hard confidence he always had.
"Your emotional approach to this will not help. You must understand that there is a lot of cruelty in our world, and it is not always possible to make a choice."
Schaeymoure's words seemed to cut to Delia's soul. She could not believe that the man who had once been her mentor could be so indifferent to her brother's fate.
"Can't you see that this isn't just a job? This is Galbraith's prison," she said with difficulty. "If you don't help me stop this, he won't be able to escape his fate!"
Schaeymoure, without taking his eyes off her, merely shrugged.
"Delia, you're missing the big picture. Galbraith was created to serve, and he's going to have the opportunity to be part of something bigger. You see it as a curse, but for him, it's an opportunity."
"A chance?" She stood up and began to pace the room, her nerves on edge. "You call this a chance? He shouldn't be part of this game! I'm ready to fight, ready to do whatever it takes to save him!"
Schaeymoure, despite her anger, remained adamant.
"Are you prepared for the consequences, Delia? You can't just up and drop everything for one person. It won't be easy, and we can't just back out of our plan."
Delia stopped and looked at him with hope shining through her despair.
"But you must understand that this is not just "service". This is his life! I cannot allow this to happen!"
Schaeymoure did not give up.
"I understand how you feel, but you have to be realistic. If we go against the system, it will lead to greater risk for both you and Galbraith. You can't protect him if you end up in danger yourself."
Delia sighed, gritting her teeth. She couldn't accept this.
"I won't leave him to be torn apart! If you don't support me, I'll do it alone!"
Schaeymoure looked at her with new shades of respect, but his decision remained unchanged.
"I can't support you in this. If you decide to take such a step, you will have to bear the consequences. But I can't allow myself to be a part of this."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Delia alone with her despair. She looked at Galbraith, holding him tenderly to her. Her arms felt his fragility, and she couldn't help but think that he was not just a baby, but the result of a complex experiment, designed to perform tasks that could destroy him.
"I love you so much," she whispered, rocking him in her arms. "You need to know that you're not alone. I'll do everything I can to protect you."
The baby snored softly, his tiny body relaxed in her arms. Delia rocked him gently, trying to create an atmosphere of calm, as if that would shield him from the harsh reality. Her voice, when she sang, was tender and caring. But she was also thinking about what was happening outside this room, about Schaeymoure and his unwavering belief that Galbraith would be the perfect soldier. Delia couldn't help but feel that this was all a joke, a cruel twist of fate. Her brother, destined for battle, was not supposed to know about war or the pain of loss.
"Imagine we had a choice," she said softly, stroking his head. "Imagine you could choose your destiny. You wouldn't be a soldier, you'd just be... Galbraith. You'd live your life, full of joy and happiness."
But with every word she spoke, fear gripped her more and more. Looking at his peaceful face, she clutched the bottle of milk tighter. A wave of determination rose inside her. Her plans and dreams were now tied to this tiny creature, and she knew she had to act.
"I will find a way to save you," she whispered as Galbraith slowly began to drift off to sleep. "I will do everything in my power. I will not abandon you to your fate."
Suddenly she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Delia held them back, but they burst out anyway, rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't afford to be weak, but how could she not feel hopelessness when she had a future soldier in her arms?
"I will be with you," she said again, trying to sound confident. "I will be your protector. I will find a way to change your destiny. It doesn't matter what others say. You were not created to be a tool. You are a human being, and you have the right to choose."
Gathering her strength, she decided she would not just wait any longer. The next day, she rose from her bed and immediately went to her brother's crib, looking at the defenseless baby. Galbraith was not only her brother; he was a symbol of her struggle. Delia knew she could not simply abandon him and walk away. She had to find a way to protect him, and perhaps even escape the moon with him.
An idea suddenly occurred to her - if she could contact the other members of her team on Earth, perhaps they could arrange for her and Galbraith to escape. She sighed and glanced at Galbraith, who was snoring softly.
"I won't leave you, brother," she whispered with determination in her voice.
She quickly got ready, picked up her communicator, and using the security code to hide her location, contacted a few people she knew. Her fingers trembled with excitement, but she couldn't afford to hesitate.
"Hello, Delia! How are you?" came the voice of her old friend Daniel Neff from the other end of the line.
"Neff, I need your help. It's urgent," she replied, trying to sound as calm as possible.
She told him about the situation with Galbraith and what was planned for his life. Neff was silent for a moment, then said:
"It's terrible. I can help. We can prepare everything on Earth for your arrival. But we need to act quickly. We only have a few hours before the situation becomes critical."
"Thank you, Neff," Delia said, her voice shaking with relief. "I'll contact you as soon as anything changes."
Delia disconnected the connection and looked back at Galbraith, sleeping peacefully in his crib. There was no hint in his face of how terrible his fate might be. But she knew that if she didn't act, he would be drawn into a world that would change him completely.
She spent the rest of the day studying the old cargo system that had once been used to transport resources between the different sectors of the Moonbase. Although many parts of the system were outdated, she knew she could use it to her advantage. Her plan was simple: under cover of night, she would load Galbraith into one of the pods, assemble the necessary equipment, and head to the old hangar where the cargo pods were still operational.
But she knew it wouldn't be easy "Sergeant Schaeymoure and the team were beginning to notice her suspicious behavior. Summoning all her strength, Delia decided that the best tactic was deception. She tried to act normal, taking part in general activities and answering questions about Galbraith's health. But the fear inside her was growing. The moment she left him for a few minutes, it seemed as if every step could be observed.
Finally, night fell. Delia made the decision to head to the cargo bay. She quietly left her room and took a few essentials with her "food supplies, some clothes, and things for Galbraith. As soon as she reached the old hangar, her heart began to beat faster. Inside were several old capsules, covered in dust and cobwebs, but still in good condition. However, when Delia began loading Galbraith, she was suspicious of a passing Sergeant Schaeymoure, who stopped and looked at her with distrust.
"Delia, what are you doing here?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
Delia's heart stopped for a moment. She knew she couldn't let him suspect anything.
"Oh, Sergeant, I was just checking out the old capsules," she replied with a slight smile, trying to sound casual. "I think there might be something useful in here for research."
Schaeymoure didn't look convinced.
"Research? In that case, you'd better get back to your room. This is no place for fun. And we have important matters to attend to."
Delia panicked internally. She couldn't let him go and her plan would be in jeopardy.
"Wait, Sergeant!" she added quickly, using every ounce of charm to persuade him. "I'm sure I can make a useful contribution. Perhaps you'll let me stay for a few minutes?"
Schaeymoure studied her face, but her confidence and determination began to do their job.
"Okay, but only for five minutes. If anything goes wrong, I'll call security," he said, slowly raising an eyebrow.
As he turned away, Delia felt the adrenaline rush through her. She only had a few minutes. She quickly gathered the rest of her things and walked deeper into the hangar, making sure to close her door and engage the launch system. The old mechanisms creaked, but everything worked as she had hoped. As soon as the capsule began to move and found itself in open space, Delia felt relief and freedom. She accelerated, heading for Earth, knowing that her brother was now safe, at least for now.
However, the joy was short-lived "as soon as she set course for Earth, her capsule began to beep "the alarm system was activated. Soon, warnings appeared on the screen that her location was locked. She quickly checked the navigation systems, trying to find the safest route. Knowing that she had to act quickly, she entered the parameters for flying at a minimum altitude, hoping that this would help her avoid detection. Thoughts swirled in her mind that she could be followed, and perhaps Schaeymoure had already begun searching.
Lost in her thoughts, Delia turned her attention back to her brother. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, unaware of the danger they were in. She swore to herself that she would do everything in her power to protect him, and that he would never become part of this terrible system. The navigation screens began to flash alarms: several of the Moonbase cruisers were following her. Their dots of light on the screen were getting closer, and she knew she couldn't elude them for long. The situation was getting tense, and she had to adjust her flight path to maximum speed. Soon the screen began to flicker, and Delia felt the capsule slow down, hiding behind one of the moon stations, hoping to throw off their pursuers.
However, when Delia looked at the screens again, she realized that the cruisers had not retreated. Their search was single-minded, and she knew that hiding would not be possible for long. Delia activated the automatic control system and flew through the dense layers of clouds, feeling the capsule shake from the powerful air currents. Lisbon was getting closer and closer, but the danger was not only in the air "she knew that agents of the Convention were waiting for her in the city.