Trustworthy

by Astrid Amara

  The poor thing was raw from the wind. Its skin was a mass of abrasions, open wounds, flayed flesh. I picked up the small creature.

  “She’s a girl,” I said. She only weighed about ten pounds and wiggled in my grasp. As I pulled her closer, sheltering her from the particles in the wind, she licked at my mask frantically, tail going a mile a minute.

  I tucked her under my arm and turned to stand under the awning, fury rising in me. “What motherfucker tosses a dog into this wind?”

  Mack watched me. “Looks like she’s been out here a while. Must be eating the trash.”

  “Fuckers!” I pulled her closer, and she tried to worm her way under my suit. I unzipped the collar and let her climb inside. Her body, while rough and smelly, was warm.

  “She’s probably got bugs,” Mack said.

  “So do I.” I zipped up the jacket and created a shelf for her little pink body with my left arm.

  “So your plan is to keep me hostage, steal back the repository, and save a puppy?”

  “You think I should leave her here? Are you a fucking monster?” I snapped.

  Mack laughed. “Oh baby. You and animals.”

  “Shut up.” I turned back toward the buggy. “Come on, it’s getting dark. Let’s find a place to set up the tempcamp and get her some food.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mack picked up the crate of food and mechanical parts, chuckling all the way back to the buggy.

  * * * *

  Sol 10 set by the time we got the tempcamp inflated and the supplies tucked inside. Mack went straight to cooking, determined to make another meal that improved upon the ration bars.

  I beelined for one of the cots and gingerly lifted my new charge out of my armor. She was a small dog, with long, spindly legs and a deep chest. Her ribs were all visible through the thin covering of her damaged flesh. She had big brown eyes, and her nose wrinkled when she licked at me.

  I laughed. I felt charmed by her and felt better by seeing her than I had in a long time.

  “Drink this,” Mack said, coming from behind and handing me a cup of liquid.

  I sniffed it. “What is it?”

  “I found it with the grocery carton. It’s your favorite, trust me. Don’t give it to the mutt.”

  “Her name is Carly. “

  Mack’s eyebrow rose. “Carly? Why?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I like the name.”

  Mack stared. “My mother’s name was Carly.”

  “So are like a million other women.” I took a sip from the cup. The beer inside was crisp and bitter, with a hoppy aftertaste. It tasted great, and, despite efforts to hide my pleasure, I groaned a bit.

  “Told you you’d like it,” Mack said. He started frying something up on the hotplate.

  “Where’s the med kit?” I asked.

  “Oh no,” Mack said. “You do not get to use our one and only med kit on a dog.”

  “Screw you,” I replied. “She’s injured, and she can feel it.”

  “I’m injured!” Mack yelled, gesturing to his face with a spatula. “You punched me in the mouth and shot me in the leg!”

  “You deserved it,” I said. I turned to Carly and let her lick me on the face. “But you didn’t deserve what happened to you, did you, princess?”

  “Oh brother,” Mack groaned, turning back to the range.

  “Med kit,” I demanded.

  “In the second storage box.”

  I walked over to the storage box, Carly following at my heels, so excited to be with me her little feet clipped my own with each step. When I dug out the box, I sat cross-legged and let her curl into my lap contentedly.

  I found wound cleanser and sterile cloths. I sprayed the cleanser and rubbed the dog down. From the small sprouts of hair that were left, I could tell she was originally a black-colored dog with silky, fine hair. But that’s all I could guess.

  When I finished cleaning her wounds, I made an educated guess on dosages and measured out painkiller into a hydro-syringe. The trusting little creature didn’t even flinch when I held the gun to her neck and fired the chemical under her skin.

  “Dinner’s ready,” Mack said. He held up two plates.

  “I can’t move.” I gestured to Carly, who already slept, head rested on my knee.

  Mack sighed dramatically but came to sit across from me on the floor of the tempcamp. He put his plate near me. Carly’s nose twitched, but she didn’t otherwise stir.

  He then revealed the large beer bottle dramatically, gesturing and pouring me more with a flare of drama.

  He bent over my meal, which consisted of rice, soy steak, and some canned vegetables, and turned a pepper grinder over my food.

  “Misseur,” he offered, with a wink.

  Despite myself, I laughed. I tried to hide it—I didn’t want him thinking his charm was working on me.

  But it did. He was likeable when he put in the effort, and he seemed to be trying to woo me. He offered me a napkin, then sat across from me, setting down his own plate with a flourish.

  “Bon appétit,” he offered.

  We toasted. The beer went straight to my head. After days of not having any stimulant, the effects of the booze were immediate and much-needed.

  “What’s the beer?” I asked.

  “It’s a double hops pale ale. You were always a fan of it.”

  I ate the meal, trying to slow myself down because it tasted so good, I was in danger of repeating the previous night’s error and eating it before I could fully enjoy it.

  “What else do I like to eat?” I asked. It was a strange question, but Mack didn’t seem fazed by it.

  “Hm. You love Mexican food,” he told me. He chewed thoughtfully as he spoke. “And Chinese noodle dishes. You like salty treats, like potato chips and salt rinds.”

  “What about you?” I studied him, curious. “What do you like?”

  “Oh, I’ll eat anything,” he said, “There’s nothing I really dislike, other than maybe slimy textures. I’ve got a sweet tooth compared to you.”

  Carly stirred in my lap. I drank down the rest of my beer, then poured the contents of one of the water pouches into the cup and held it out for her. She lapped at it sleepily. When I offered her the soy steak, she took a few quick bites, then curled up to sleep again.

  Mack watched with a smile. “You always wanted a dog.”

  “Yeah?” I petted the little girl’s head in between bites. “It’s not like I can keep her.”

  “Why not?”

  I sighed. “I’m a soldier. I have responsibilities. I’m…” I tried to visualize my living quarters. “I don’t live alone. I don’t think.” I shook my head, hoping to ward off any headache generated by thinking too hard. I took another bite of the rice, savoring the food in my mouth.

  “So your mother was named Carly,” I said, changing the subject. “Was. She’s dead?”

  Mack blinked. “Yeah.”

  “How?”

  He clenched his jaw, something I noticed he did whenever he was annoyed by something. “She was shot to death by Calypso Recon.”

  “Ah, right. That’s why you betrayed them.”

  Mack seemed unmoved by accusations. “Joining Recon presented an opportunity, that’s all. Besides, there weren’t a lot of places for a bunch of scruffy orphans like us to go other than the army.”

  I played with the word orphan in my head. “What happened to my parents?”

  Mack shrugged. At my frown he added, “You never told me. You said you couldn’t remember.”

  I had a sense of déjà vu. I knew we’d had this conversation before.

  “I don’t remember,” I replied. I shivered. “That said, I don’t even remember what I look like. “

  Mack smiled at that. “Don’t worry, you’re very handsome.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” I glanced down at the clothing I’d worn for a solid week.

  “Oh, it’s true.” Mack’s smile was soft, sweet. “And I can show you how much I find you handsome.”
>
  “Yeah?” I felt my groin stir again, a surge of desire. It wasn’t like Peak—it wasn’t that bright, that sharp, that instant—but it was still pleasurable. “What do I have to do?”

  “Get that dog out of your lap, for starters.”

  I gingerly lifted my sleeping companion, and carried her to the pile of bedding on one of the cots. She stirred briefly but then settled down again, sighing as she burrowed into the soft blankets.

  When I turned back, Mack had cleared the plates from the floor. I felt a little woozy from even the small amount of alcohol I’d drunk. I tried to remember the last time I had alcohol, and drew a blank. Like so many memories, it was gone.

  Mack laid his blankets on the floor of the tempcamp since there was more space. He undressed, and once again, I watched him. His body was beautiful to me. He had dark body hair; his thighs were thick and well-defined, and his chest was broad. There was a lot of him. Undressed, he seemed larger. His expressive blue eyes watched me watching him.

  I wondered what it would be like to touch him. Then I realized, I didn’t have to wonder. While I couldn’t remember how long I’d been uninterested or unable to engage in sexual congress with someone, right now there was no reason not to.

  Besides, if my plan was going to work, I had to assure Mack I’d reformed and was on his side. I had to use his weakness for me to my own advantage.

  I moved toward him, keyed up, my breath coming in quick gasps. I felt almost ashamed at the idea of being nude in front of him, which was absurd. The man had sucked my cock only the day before. What more did I have to hide?

  How much of my anxiety of undressing had to do with the secrets I didn’t have answers to?

  I started removing the multiple layers of polymesh and armor coating.

  Between the sweaty rush of Peak, the nausea and fevers of withdrawal, and days without a shower, I’d definitely maxed the hell out of the sweat-absorption technology of the fabric. As I peeled each layer, a new odor revealed itself underneath. I grimaced.

  “Now would be a great time to discover a hidden supply of water so I could take a shower,” I commented.

  Mack laughed brightly. “Oh, I can deal with your smell. I like it.”

  “I smell like puke.”

  Mack winced. “Okay maybe I should give you a sponge bath first.”

  “With our diminishing remains of water?”

  “Just take your damn clothes off, cowboy.”

  My hands trembled as I undressed. The slow reveal seemed to intoxicate Mack. I hadn’t remembered how pale my skin was, how stark the parts of my arms and legs that were real looked compared to their metal counterparts.

  When I finished undressing, I stood, staring back as Mack took in the sight of me.

  As he looked over my naked body, I expected longing, arousal, appreciation.

  Instead, tears filled his eyes.

  “Oh baby. What have they done to you?” His voice shook. He scanned my flesh like he couldn’t tell where to start. His eyes darted to my left elbow, the worst of the damage. They’d wanted to preserve the cybernetic hand and the flesh it had attached to after my arm was shot off, so they had simply reattached it to an artificial elbow. My arm was a freakish amalgamation of man and machine.

  My right leg, as well, although Mack had already seen my artificial knee, leg and foot.

  Mack ran his hand along a white scar that stretched from collar bone to groin, over the myriad energy wounds, stab wounds, burns. His fingers lingered over the hard, cold metal at my neck that stretched down my back.

  “I’m going to kill them all,” Mack whispered, gritting his teeth as tears spilled over his eyes. “I’m going to kill them.”

  “Them is a big group, sugar,” I said, surprised by my own words, by the term of endearment that automatically came out. “Consider this the…modified version of the Ivo you knew.”

  Mack rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes and tried for a watery smile. His hand reached down and cupped my face. “I love you more than all the worlds, all the stars, all the people.”

  I felt like I’d heard that before, and my chest tightened. I tried not to think about it. “Kiss me,” I demanded.

  He kissed me, deep and sweet, and a lovely burn caught fire in my groin, spreading up my flesh, flaring heat through each muscle. I pressed closer, close enough that our chests and cocks brushed one another. He groaned into my mouth. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me to him. I couldn’t help but pulse my groin into his, loving the little sparks of pleasure that shot through me at each catch and rub of our cocks.

  He smelled strong, as did I, but I didn’t mind it. He smelled alive. Male, musky, with a slightly chemical scent leftover from the unwashed hydromesh clothes he’d worn. His beard had grown softer since our last kiss, and I rubbed my cheek against his, enjoying the scratchy friction of it.

  “Lie down,” Mack instructed, voice rough with need. I slowly lowered myself to the floor of the tempcamp, and he crawled over me, kissing me again. His ran his hands down my body. Part of my brain reacted negatively to the shock of touch—but as each caress heated my skin, it flushed my dick with need, and I started less with each stroke.

  I began exploring his flesh as well. He felt solid beneath my fingers, warm and reassuring. I liked the rough texture of hair over his chest, the soft discs of his nipples, the hard abdominal muscles under pale skin.

  He was scarred too, but not as badly as I was. He had a few long gashes, and what looked like a nasty energy burn to the left of his navel. But the growing size of his erection soon took all my attention.

  I couldn’t say if his cock looked familiar to me, but I liked its proportions, the way it felt in my hand. As I slid a bead of precum over the slit of his cockhead, Mack groaned. I groped lower, cradling his hot testicles in my palm, then leaned down to lick at his buttery sac.

  Mack swore and rolled over, kissing me deeply, pressing me into the ground. He gripped my hips and pulled me up to meet his, grinding our cocks together in delicious friction.

  He broke off long enough to brush through the items in the med kit beside us, pulling out a small tube of lube. He opened it and filled his palm with the clear gel.

  He knelt over me. I stared at his cock, bobbing between his legs, now red with need. Mack stroked my dick with his lubed fingers and I groaned, writhing in pleasure. He greased me up from tip to balls, then reached behind himself to lube his ass.

  “No, let me,” I whispered, surprised at the tremor in my voice. I felt blown with need. Jesus, this was better than Peak. So much more vivid, so exquisitely sensitive…

  Mack lay beside me and spread his legs. My hands still shook as I reached between them, from either my lingering withdrawal or nerves, I wasn’t sure. I breathed raggedly, but my heart beat steadily. I squeezed lube onto my fingers, rubbed them together to warm them, then reached down to touch Mack’s asshole.

  The heat startled me, the tightness of the grip of his muscle. I shuddered with a flush of longing. Memories surfaced, momentarily—Mack in a dozen different positions —legs in the air, on his hands and knees, up against a wall. I gasped and tried to bring them forward, tried to hold them. But they proved as flighty as rabbits.

  But I didn’t need memories. I had this. I had his pliant flesh under my fingertips, his eyes wide as he stared at me, mouth slightly open, an expression of ravished pleasure on his face. I curled my index finger, and he shivered.

  “Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.” He never stopped talking, even now. It was a quiet, constant stream of consciousness. “Right there. Oh God. It’s so good. Oh Jesus, Ivo, it’s so good…”

  My dick hurt with need, so I stroked it a few times, luxuriating in the swell of ecstasy that filled me at this touch. And it was about to get so much better.

  “Please, please…” Mack whispered, hoarse, trying to draw me closer. “Come here. Please.” I crawled over him and tilted his hips up. He wrapped his legs around my back, crossing his ankles behind me. I guided my
dick to his ass, but even with the lube and prep, it was a tight entry. I looked at Mack’s face, watched for discomfort. When his eyes scrunched together sharply, I stopped.

  “Okay, sugar?” I whispered.

  “Yeah. Do it. Come on.”

  I pushed farther in. The slow slide of tight muscle around me caused a shudder. It felt like pushing into warm molasses, all hot and soft and sweet. It took time for me to completely penetrate him, and when I finally had my balls against his ass crack, he was shaking beneath me.

  I supported myself on my synthetic hand and used my real one to reach between us and stroke his cock. His eyes flashed open, and he looked…

  Drugged. Like he was on Peak.

  But he wasn’t. He was simply being fucked, and the thought that I could make him feel like this empowered me, made me invincible. It was heady, being capable of making him look like that. I pulled out slightly and pushed back in, and Mack’s mumbling monologue devolved into a long, low-pitched groan.

  I wanted to stretch the feeling out. I hadn’t felt this good in nearly a week, since my last hit. Maybe even that hadn’t been this good. I fucked him now, in and out, my right hand forming a cradle for his dick as he pumped into my palm.

  It was too intense to last. My orgasm hit me suddenly, no warning, no slow build. All at once, the explosion of joy rocked through me, and I might have said his name when I came—I couldn’t hear my own words. Mack shuddered and writhed and impaled himself beneath me, legs forcing me into a rhythm, and then I felt his orgasm fill my hand, his eyes rolling back in his head.

  I pulled out slowly and fell back against the floor alongside him. I breathed heavily, as he did as well. He reached out and patted my chest with his hand.

  “Damn it. Nothing has ever felt as good in my life as your dick inside me, Ivo.”

  I chuckled.

  He patted my chest again. “That’s weird.”

  “What?”

  “Your heart.”

  “What about it?”

  “You’re breathing hard, but it’s barely beating,” Mack said. He shifted to turn on his side and stare at me. “Mine’s racing.”

  “I’m in better shape than you, old man.”