While I Admit That I’m a Time-Traveling Cyborg Assassin, I Thought I’d Made It Clear that I’m Not the Time-Traveling Cyborg Assassin Who Killed Your Father

Liz, I really thought we’d been over this before. In my time, there are a lot of cyborgs. Sure, yes, you could even say there are a lot of time-traveling cyborg assassins, I’ll give you that, but—

Look, there were a lot of cyborgs who wanted to get their hands on your father’s work. Yes, Dr. Aristides and his work on Protocol 36 are very well known in my time, but—

Liz, I would never have killed your father for that flash drive. The Lithium Lords who extracted the remains of your father’s killer from the Blood Harvest and cyborgified him aren’t even from my sector, we’ve discussed this!

I’m sorry, I know this is all confusing, and it’s not helped by the fact that I’ve been, I’ll concede, somewhat less than forthcoming about my background. Let me reiterate that the person I’m here to liquidate hasn’t even been born yet, and I shouldn’t even be telling you tha — but you have to understand, there are a lot of very complicated time travel paradoxes that I’m trying to avoid.

No.

No, I’m not “mansplaining,” I’m saying they’re complicated because they’re complicated, even my largely computerized brain has trouble sorting through them all. I—

You want to go back to that? Back to my profile? Look, if you’re still—

Well, take it up with the good people at Coffee Meets Bagel then. You can ask them why there’s no box to check off for temporality. Yes, and for being part-robot.

Look, you’re lucky we didn’t meet on Tinder, then all you might’ve known about me going in was that I was “down to fuck.”

Now, I know it’s a bit… unusual for a woman from this time to be dating a cyborg, but let’s put it this way, there are women in my time who would kill to land a man with this much of his original biological tissue.

You’re right, that did sound a bit condescending, I apologize, but—

Well, it’s not like you haven’t said things that I, as a cyborg from the future, could choose to find deeply offensive. Oh you don’t? Uh, let’s flashback to our second date, when you said, and I quote: “Have you seen The Terminator?” Have I seen The Terminator? Jesus, Liz, that’s like asking a person of Chinese descent, “So, what’s your favorite Charlie Chan movie?”

Who’s Charlie Chan?! Liz, I—

You know what, you’re right, I was about to mansplain there, and I’m sorry, but—

No, those—

Those are prejudices Liz, and I’d fear there was no end to them if I didn’t know what was going to happen down the line.

No, that’s my fault, I shouldn’t have said that either, remember, the paradoxes—

I’m sorry, is that supposed to be what I sound like? “The paradoxes!” Is that supposed to be me? No, it’s not my go-to excuse, there really are a remarkable number of reality-shredding paradoxes that I have to tiptoe around every fucking day, and—

Oh, Lizzie, sweetheart, you know if I could go back in time and save your father I’d do it in a heartbeat, but —

Exactly, because then he’d be alive, and so I’d never have gone back in time to save him, so he’d be dead, so I would go back in time to save him, etc., etc., ad infinitum, thank you, you see, I knew we could have a reasonable, civilized discussion about this. If only I’d met a woman like you before the Blood Harvest, I—

Oh. Oh wow, “the Blood Harvest!” That’s me again? I see my whole family discorporealized, and I have to put up with this from someone who—

You know, you’d be singing a very different tune if you knew the prominent role your son will play come the BH, and—

Oh, shit, really shouldn’t have said that, I’m demat—