Exquisite Possession: A Dark Scifi Romance (The Machinery of Desire Book 4)

by Cari Silverwood

  “Huh. Was from the dye when I came through the portal, they said.” She snuggled her head on his arm, worming to get closer, somehow.

  “You asked if any of me is Osta. That does worry me.”

  He was talking. She pricked up her attention.

  “It’s possible that somehow he is influencing me. It’s possible. I get so many…ideas about what to do to you when I have you turned on and in my hands. And considering who I am, that doesn’t come from my memories or whatever does it for humanoids. I mean as JI-mech I saw many things but nothing like what I dream up now.”

  “Was Osta that terrible a man? That you should worry? Can’t you ignore the worst things?”

  “I try to. I just don’t know if one day I will go too far. Osta was a great leader of the scavs. His men adored him, but he had a reputation for killing his mates. He told me it was a lie he put out to enhance his reputation.”

  “Was it?”

  “I don’t know. He did use it to scare Ari into accepting a man he wanted her to be with.”

  “What a bastard.”

  This wasn’t alarming her. It was as if JI spoke of a problem that could not affect her. Strange, since it might. Did she trust him too much?

  “Yes. I suppose. A great leader and a bastard. Everything seemed simpler to me then, as a mech. Being a man has made problems become complicated.”

  “You’re seeing the depths. People are too weird for words. We do stuff and don’t even know why, sometimes.”

  “That cannot be good.”

  “JI.” She wriggled and sat up enough to face him, to put her hand to his jaw. “At least you are thinking. Some go off, react, before they should.”

  “Hmm.” He took her hand, kissed it. “Aunt M, when he left, told me I should do something worthwhile. Do most people like doing good, worthwhile things? I hadn’t noticed this.”

  She grimaced. “Not all. The judge for example. I like to imagine everyone has some good in them, but not him. And lots of people never try hard to anything except survive. You have to be brave and really determined, as well as have the opportunity, to do that. You need empathy too, to try being gooder than the average good.”

  Then there were those who believed in their own brand of good even though it might destroy or offend those who weren’t like you. She wouldn’t speak of that. He would surely figure that out. The mekkers were a prime example. Come to think of it, most of the races of Aerthe hated the other ones. Mess. Plain mess.

  “You see the lights?” JI pointed toward the distant beach where bright blue lights danced. “Don’t you think those look like the light of our water lurker.”

  “Ohhh.” She leaned forward. “They do. They even look like the waik lights the grounders and scavs make.”

  “Perhaps these monsters also use the power in those. Though why do they crawl onto the beach?”

  “Turtles on my world do this to lay eggs. Sometimes people dig those up and eat them.”

  But the crystals were not the young of these creatures.

  “We will see what they leave tomorrow morning.”

  Which raised a new question in Fern’s mind. “What are we doing once the crystals are harvested?” She was assuming she would stay with JI, and unreasoned panic lanced in. What if he planned to dispose of her, to leave her here and go? A stupid fear, but she couldn’t bear to ask him about it.

  “I…I’m not sure. Without Aunt M I admit I feel lost. I’ve learned so much but how to plan a life? No.”

  Oh. “Am I to come with you?” The hope in her voice was pitiful.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  Fern sighed and leaned into his chest again, reassured by his size, warmth, by who he was, and even who he might become. JI must be a good person.

  “You know,” she said softly, poking his forearm hairs with her forefinger, pushing them around so they bent. “You really have no clue what a pet is supposed to be.”

  “What do you mean? Ahhh. You?” He chuckled. “This is true, I suppose. I should cage you more often. Leash you. Feed you whatever pets eat.”

  Eww. “The food, maybe not.” The leash though, that was just her brand of kink. She basked in the images conjured.

  “Leash then.” JI almost purred. “I see that is where we shall go next. For now, pet-girl, you shall remain on my lap. You’re soft and warm. Though your collar pokes me.” He moved it on her neck. “Better. Watch the sun go down, then afterward we will eat. Then I will leash you and decide what to else to do. Spanking?”

  She almost had a meltdown.

  “Spanking, yes. Good. I am making a list. Fucking you upside down with your breasts roped to the cage?”

  That was…disturbing. Curious but disturbed. “Not everything you think of needs to be done.” Fern put her finger over his mouth to silence him. He bit it.

  “I will decide this. What I do with my pet.” He slapped her butt. “Now, tell me about your own world. Is it so different to Aerthe?”

  The question had her pausing. “In some ways, yes. Very different. The technology, the history, how our world is divided into countries. In others, when I remember the wars, the hatred, the loves, all the other facets of being human, no. Just here it seems as if the emotional stuff is distilled. Nothing is done by halves here. Living, dying, loving…”

  “I see. Do you have a family there?”

  Of course she did, had, still did, she hoped. Hoped, dearly, with every molecule in her body, every gram of love in her heart. What would they be doing now, if time was even the same between these worlds?

  The tears started, welling into her eyes and she couldn’t speak for a while. JI waited, giving her space. Finally she decided that this might be for the best. Cathartic. She inhaled, let it out slowly, and began.

  “I had a family. I was going to be married…”

  She could no longer bear to mention his name. She’d wallowed in that sadness too much.

  When she was finished talking, they sat in silence for a while, then JI stood, depositing her on the chair. He walked to where his coat hung, dug inside a pocket, and returned to her with something in his fist.

  “I cannot make a portal to your world, Fern. There’s nothing I can do to fix that, I can however do this.” He opened his hand and in the palm were three power cells. “Use these for your new mechlings. They were mine when I was a JI-mech. I kept them as a memory but can’t really do anything with them apart from touch them.”

  “Oh, JI.” She smiled at the generosity of this gesture. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He rolled them into her hand then closed her fingers into a fist around the power cells. “I’m going to consider doing good things from now on. Perhaps it will make me feel less guilty. At least I think I feel guilt.”

  “Why?” She frowned up at him. “Not because of me? Don’t, please.”

  He straightened. “Not you, no.”

  Then what?

  Chapter 19

  JI ventured down to the beach where the monsters had been. Nothing remained of their visit except for large, zigzag tracks leading up from the sea into the dunes. The scavs and grounders were already swarming over the scuffled sand, searching for crystals.

  Pilf was digging with a spade, down on one knee, stopping now and then to catch his breath. The grounder was old, JI realized. Which made him wonder how long did people live? How long would this body last?

  “What have you found, sir?”

  “Oh! Hello there, mister Osta. Just one little one so far. The others are getting slim pickings too but there is always another night. Or so the stories of monster season say. Have a look yourself.” He swept his hand forward.

  “I will.” Curious, he moved toward an as-yet unexplored section near Pilf and also went to his knee, sinking into the softness, propping the butt of his long gun into the sand on his other side. With only his hand to check for crystals he might have small chance of success.

  “Can I just say also,” Pilf added quietly. “I am a little worr
ied about the scavs. I know they’re your friends, but if you could watch them?”

  “Watch?” He studied the forty or so people scattered about. More scavs seemed to arrive daily, and they outnumbered the grounders. The tide was out and had left a very wide part of the beach exposed. “I shall. Fear not.”

  Yellow birds squawked and pecked at the sand also, swallowing red wriggly things. They excavated their own treasure – the small multi-legged things that lived under the beach.

  Did Pilf think the scavs might steal more crystals than they were due? Or did he think they would renege on the agreement he’d arranged? From the weapons carried and the black-under-the-brow looks some scavs were showing, it was the latter. He sighed. To be expected.

  He’d left Fern locked in the cage because he was concerned about the potential for violence, and because…his lips twitched into a small smile…he knew she found it hot. He’d deal with her later.

  This?

  Probably it would not be today if violence erupted. They’d let the grounders do the work first.

  He should be prepared to act. His stomach pained him, as though something heavy had filled it and was twisting and pressing. Tomorrow could be a dark day.

  A hard object beneath his fingers made him eye the hole they probed. Whatever it was, it seemed smaller than any waik crystal. He pulled his hand from the churned sand, dusted off the culprit, then held it up high, so the light would reach it.

  Almost opaque. Small black filaments swam in a dark glasslike matrix.

  “You found one? Small, if it is.” Pilf sounded disappointed. “And the color is not good. It must be clear and blue, or purple.”

  “It is black.” Black and only a sliver, yet he had an urge to keep this. JI tucked it into a pocket, gave it a final squeeze. Like the power cells he’d saved, this exuded a welcoming warmth.

  Logic said this was related to a waik crystal, though flawed. It was timely that he find this after giving the others to Fern.

  A long shadow fell across him, and he rose to his feet, to watch the loner who dressed in gray approach. Fern had mentioned him, now he saw why. He seemed…different. Sand scrunched under the loner’s bare feet.

  “Zerlin.”

  “Osta. I heard your name from the others. You found something?”

  “Yes.” Though reluctant, he brought the black fragment from his pocket. “I’m told it’s not a good one.”

  “Black. I’ve heard it said black can be the worst or the very best. As can white.”

  “A curious saying.”

  He shrugged. “Truthfully, it’s my own.” He squinted out to sea. “The scent here is invigorating, as if the world is washed clean in the sea.”

  “Yes.” Appreciating a place like this was one of those things humanoids had that mechs lacked. He inhaled, exhaled, felt stronger after doing so. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

  “Take care of that crystal.” Zerlin spat to the side. “You might find it means more than you think. Aerthe gave it to you for a reason.”

  JI cocked an eyebrow at the sanctimonious statement. Nice to have that news.

  He wandered away, appearing to search the sand, but JI suspected it was a pretense. That one would bear watching more than the other scavs.

  Zerlin was a man with secrets, as was he.

  * * * * *

  The monsters invaded the beach again that night, lights swaying high above them. JI had procured a telescopic sight from a scav, and he and Fern took turns watching. That no one dared to interfere with the monsters made him wonder if the creatures were hazardous after all.

  Night-time was scary time when you had no internally installed lighting that could flood a scene in seconds.

  “You can come with me today. Bring your weapon.”

  “Okay.” Fern snuggled closer.

  Not for the first time, he wished someone had invented good armor for humanoids. Something to consider for the future. If scavs had ever made it, they’d lost the art.

  Morning arrived all too soon, and he recalled his thought on armor from the previous night.

  “Do the soldiers in your world wear armor?” he asked, as they clattered down the flights of stairs to the foyer.

  “Yes, but not metal. They use a special type of ceramic, I think? And specially woven cloth. Kevlar. I think that’s a cloth? In the older medieval times soldiers did use metal, chainmail, and so on, but guns can shoot through that.”

  “I see.” It was true that most weapons here would penetrate thin metal. “The thicker the heavier, if metal. There would be a strength problem. I feel the lack myself. My strength and poor repair capability are woeful. Blow off a limb…” He shook his head. “And a human is in dire trouble. And blood is harder to replace than hydraulic fluid.”

  “No denying that.” She eyed him, in silence and with prolonged scrutiny. “Are you worried about today, JI?”

  Worried meant thinking the outcome might not be good. “Yes. I believe I am. I’m only taking you because leaving you behind, splitting us up, might be worse than keeping you with me. There could be fighting. I don’t trust my fellow scavs. Neither does Pilf.”

  “Oh.”

  She’d asked him where he thought his future lay. If anything highlighted how pitiful his critical thinking had been, it was this. What did he want? Where would he go next? He wanted her with him, of course. She was becoming more a part of his world than Aunt M.

  Aunt M had been like… He sought a humanoid word for this. Like a cousin, or a brother. Soul was also an apt word. There was a hole in his soul now that M had gone.

  He’d left this too late. Even as he stepped onto the sand, he saw the fragility of this situation. The snap of voices, the shouting, the aggressive stance of most of the men, and of the women who were warriors. Already the grounders had been cornered.

  If someone was shot what would he do?

  He gripped his gun at the balance point, let it rock there, then brought it across his chest, then down again. If he advanced with it aiming too close to some fidgety individual, they might shoot him.

  “Stay there,” he said to Fern, then he hesitated again. His stomach was doing that heavy twisty thing again, like yesterday.

  What happened to people when they died? What would happen to Fern, if he did?

  He was bigger than anyone out there. What the fuck was wrong with him?

  Chapter 20

  Fern watched as JI dithered over going out into the middle of what seemed an imminent small war. Knowing what she did of him, of how he still struggled to assimilate emotions, she put her hand in his, momentarily.

  “Are you okay?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “I feel…odd.”

  He was a head and a half taller than her, bigger by far if weight was used as a gauge, and she was so used to men not showing what they felt that she too, hesitated.

  The voices on the beach grew louder.

  “I think…I am afraid, Fern. Is this why my stomach hurts and my hands sweat.” He peered down at her. “Why I think of what will happen if I die, to me and to you? Fear?”

  “Nailed it. JI…umm.”

  She ran through what to say that would help and was unsure. Besides, should she tell him to go out there when he might indeed get hurt?

  “I don’t know how to help you. Except to say we all feel fear. Some show it more than others. You cannot make it vanish completely, it will always be there when you don’t want it. The courageous can overcome it and do what is best. If you really desire that. If you are that sort of person. That doesn’t make you better, just different, stronger than some.”

  Even that seemed lame. Good people with the best intentions could still fail at the first hurdle, where courage was needed.

  “If I don’t go, I believe nothing good will come of that.” He jerked his head sideways. “If I do, I might fix things. I don’t know if I can, but I have a certain faith in myself.” He raised his head. “Courage is just a flick of the yes/no switch. Stay here.”

&nb
sp; She stayed, having used up much of her courage when facing the judge.

  She was so proud of him, this would-be man who’d never understood fear before

  The yes/no switch? She must remember that.

  Oh fuck this.

  Then she nudged her own switch and crept after JI, gun in hand but unsure she could use it.

  What would he do? And she paused a few yards in from the edge of the sand and wondered who she should shoot if they tried to hurt him. Probably the wrong person.

  Fern gathered the mechlings and sent a couple out on the periphery to observe, and to triangulate the head of the noisiest scav. The asshole scav, of course. The one who’d insulted her the other day.

  Shooting him would surely be a service?

  Chapter 21

  JI ignored his churning stomach as much as he could. It would be his companion in this, his foray into fear.

  The scavs who’d had their back to him turned when someone yelled his name, and backed to the sides, revealing the grounders they’d surrounded.

  He was grateful his name was short and obvious. Osta had a definite ring to it that cut through the babble. He smiled, making it as mean a smile as he could. Then thought to inch his lip higher.

  Teeth were the sign of a predator, surely?

  He’d flipped his switch to yes and that was that. He, JI slash Osta, had a reputation.

  If only he could think of a good Shakespeare quote.

  One last scav had a weapon raised, the bad end pointing in the general direction of the grounders. Then he cocked an ear in JI’s direction, then an eye.

  “You!”

  “Yes. Me. Osta.”

  At a glare from JI, he lowered the black-and-white spotted gun but stepped toward him, offering a baleful expression.

  “I thought you’d come. It’s time we showed these who are the bosses.” Fine blue tattoos wriggled across his face and hands like undulations on surface of the sea.

  Or maggots.

  “We cannot let them think they rule us. We should claim all the crystals and claim these grounders as ours. That was your plan all along?”