Coppélia

She stood in the doorway, watching in silence as the instructor went over the choreography for the troupe’s upcoming ballet. It was a love story about king falling for a commoner that resembled his late wife. She’s only seen it once before, but that was enough for her to dream of being the lead.

That’s all it ever would be: a dream.

The Empire didn’t allow those with different mechanical features to enter certain industries. They feared people with “enhancements” would pose a risk and have unfair advantages. Coppélia didn’t see it that way.

She lost her right leg in a car accident she could seldom remember. Replacing it was a transparent mechanical one. Thin tubes that served as makeshift veins were visible, as well as smaller wires that replicated a nervous system. All of it connected to a large metal top that allowed the leg to be attached to her stump. With the advances in technology, the leg felt as natural as her left, but it didn’t grant her any enhanced abilities. She still needed to rehearse like everyone else, and the leg was more of an eyesore.

To her, being a ballerina meant being the embodiment of beauty and grace. A ballerina with a transparent, mechanical leg? That was more of a disadvantage in her mind than the unfair advantage the Empire claimed it gave.

Then there was the case of her mechanical heart. It didn’t beat the same as a normal heart, but it performed the same functions. Her heart still had atria and ventricles. Thin metal tubes allowed blood to flow through her veins from her heart without any serious complications. Should one arise, or her heart malfunctions, extensive surgery would be required to repair it. The surgeries weren’t new to her, especially since she had the mechanical heart all her life. The pain she felt when the heart malfunctioned was also normal, but she’d prefer a life without it.

In the eyes of the Empire, a mechanical heart granted her more endurance and stamina. If she tried to run a marathon, she would collapse with immense chest pain as her heart overheats and gives out. But they banned her from competitive sports not because of her own health risk, but because they considered her an enhanced being.

It was all so hypocritical. Soldiers who lost their limbs, or an eye, immediately received cybernetic upgrades that enhanced their abilities. Once they stopped serving, they kept those upgrades and could do whatever they pleased.

The ballet instructor she watched every Friday afternoon was a former soldier. It fascinated Coppélia how the instructor’s leg appeared far more normal than her own. She knew how much it enhanced instructor’s balance and agility. But here she was, teaching a group of normal “human” girls classical ballet and forbidden from publically teaching a girl such as Coppélia a thing.

After the lessons, the instructor always took pity on her. She herself knew the rules were unfair and offered private lessons free of charge. Coppélia always refused. She wanted to learn publicly, in a class with other girls. She wanted that sisterhood young ballet dancers had and friends she could talk to. Friends she could cry to. She wanted to break the rules, to change them, not just dance.

Coppélia wanted to be seen as human. She had emotions, feelings, dreams, and desires, but that wasn’t enough. To be seen as human in this society, she had to be made entirely of flesh and bone. They considered her a cyborg. Some even called her a broken android when they saw her leg. It hurt how they saw her as some sort of monster as opposed to a person, but she learned to hold back her tears until she was alone.

After today’s lesson, the instructor approached her with a jewelry box. A part of her didn’t want to take it, but the instructor had shown kindness to her before. Not just with the offer of private lessons, but she was the closest thing to a friend Coppélia had ever known. She had no reason not to trust the woman.

Reluctantly, she took the box and opened it to reveal a silver chain with a heart that resembled her own mechanical one. Seeing an anatomically correct heart on a necklace was new to her, but she understood the sentiment. Upon closer inspection, she noticed something inscribed on the front:

Inside and out, you are still human.

Something about the phrase made her want to tear up, but she felt it would be too much. She removed the necklace from the box and turned it over in her fingers until she felt a small latch flipped it. With a click, the heart locket opened. And inside was a small painting of Coppélia in a white, feathered ballet costume with crystals embroidered into the tutu.

“You always said you wanted to be the Swan Queen.” The instructor smiled at her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Once things change, perhaps this will be more than just a realistic painting. You’ll pave the way for more girls like you. If you choose to fight this system, I’ll be right there with you.”

Coppélia threw her arms around the instructor and buried her face in her chest as she cried. Despite how close they already were, this was the first time she truly felt understood.