"No," he whispers, horrified. "No. I'm not. I can't -- "
Frantic, he presses a hand to his own chest. How could he not notice it before? The most basic biomarker of human life. Cylons are near-perfect mimicries, but nobody yet knows all the intricacies of the humanoid models -- maybe they don't actually need a heartbeat to live. Why would a machine waste energy on something like that if other necessary processes required more attention? So inefficient.
The other Gaeta's eyes bore into his own. Say it, he seems to order.
The words land heavy on his tongue. He almost chokes on them. Still, he makes himself say it out loud.
no subject
Frantic, he presses a hand to his own chest. How could he not notice it before? The most basic biomarker of human life. Cylons are near-perfect mimicries, but nobody yet knows all the intricacies of the humanoid models -- maybe they don't actually need a heartbeat to live. Why would a machine waste energy on something like that if other necessary processes required more attention? So inefficient.
The other Gaeta's eyes bore into his own. Say it, he seems to order.
The words land heavy on his tongue. He almost chokes on them. Still, he makes himself say it out loud.
"I'm a Cylon."