by Cynthia Sax
Using his sensors, he’d located an underground water supply deep in the cave. He’d dug a hole through several layers of rock to reach it. The females, especially his Tifara, had been appreciative of that also.
Cleaning the cave had lessened the reek but hadn’t removed it entirely. The air was saliva-sucking dry, the temperature scorching hot. There was nothing and no one to fight, to kill.
Death’s gaze returned to his Tifara. The inhospitable surroundings couldn’t dampen his happiness. He was with his female.
“Death, could you assist us?” She waved him to her side. “I want to spray under Ada-972.”
“Males should not touch females,” their patient mumbled, her protest weak. “It is forbidden.”
He didn’t want to touch any female other than his own. But the damaged clone female had to be moved and only he had the strength to accomplish that task without stressing her. He donned his hand coverings.
“I’m sorry, Death.” Ada-972’s eyes filled with guilt. “I’m forcing you to do the forbidden.”
She was sorry because she feared she was endangering his soul.
She didn’t realize he was a cyborg. The medical tape covered his model number. But she knew he was a warrior, a killer.
Yet she worried for him. She worried for him while she lay helpless on the stone, dying more and more with each passing planet rotation.
It pained his big cyborg heart.
“This isn’t necessary.” She fussed. “I told Medic Tifara that she didn’t have to spray under me. I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine. Death lifted her. Insects scattered, a wiggling, crawling panel of lifeforms moving across the cave floor. He inwardly winced. The clone female’s back was bloody with bites.
She was a source of precious moisture in the parched terrain and the insects were feasting upon her. Being damaged, she was unable to ward them off.
The pain inhibitors ensured she didn’t feel the six-legged assault.
Tifara met his gaze, her eyes reflecting her horror and she sprayed the hard rock with a concoction she’d developed. It slowed but didn’t stop the attacks.
Ada-971 placed a makeshift sleeping support under the clone female. She’d fastened together leathers he’d retrieved from the male clones’ camp and filled the gaps between them with sand.
It would rot within mere planet rotations and it was excessive effort for a being who would die. Death gently set Ada-972 on the leathers, saying nothing.
It brought Ada-971 happiness and it was impossible to treat Ada-972 with detachment. Even now, the damaged female smiled up at him, viewing him as a friend.
“You’re a kind male.” She touched his chin. Her fingers were hot with infection.
“Ada-972.” Tifara batted her hands away from his face. “He’s carrying a virus.” She rubbed the clone female’s fingers with a cleaning cloth. “We can’t allow it to spread.”
“A virus is the least of my problems.” Ada-972’s laugh was edged with sadness. “And I’ve decided, for now, to abandon the rules. If Death can risk his place in the constellations, I will risk my place also. Because I will tell you a secret.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I like touching him.”
“I don’t like you touching him,” Tifara mumbled under her breath.
His little female was jealous. Death stifled his grin. The so-called virus was an excuse. She didn’t like any other being to touch him.
“Tell me about the planets you’ve seen, Death,” Ada-972 asked. She had never left Carinae E. Space travel was also forbidden. “Is it true there are planets with multiple suns?”
He told her of the planets he’d seen, not mentioning that he’d been sent there to fight, to kill. Ada-971 lay beside her clone sister, cuddling by her side, also listening.
He’d experienced things these females hadn’t. He’d seen different worlds. He’d bred with another being, a being he would kill for. His gaze drifted to Tifara. She tended to Ada-972’s wounds, trying to stop the spread of the rot.
That wasn’t possible but his little medic had slowed the spread. Pride filled Death. She’d given the damaged clone female more planet rotations of life.
Although chatter wasn’t a skill he excelled at, he forced himself to talk until the damaged female’s eyes closed and her breathing leveled. Then he stood and held out his hand to Tifara.
He didn’t have to say another word. His female hurried to his side and placed her palm in his. They walked into the sunlight. She stumbled over a rock, her vision system slow to correct to the increased light.
Death scooped her into his arms, mentally berating himself for not doing that sooner. She was tired, was achingly human, and carrying her was a pleasure. Her curves pressed against his body armor. Her light scent flavored the air around them.
He strode toward the ship, his female in his arms. They were followed. Every planet rotation, Ada-971 trailed them. She waited until they entered the ship and then she returned to the cave.
Death suspected she thought she was protecting them. It was a ludicrous notion. He was a cyborg, one of the best warriors in the universe. He didn’t require any protection.
Or maybe he did.
His sensors picked out a lifeform signature and his stomach churned. The lifeform was cyborg.
His brethren had found him. He detected only one cyborg but the council wouldn’t send a single warrior to capture him.
There would be others, more warriors than he could defeat. Death would fight, engage in one last glorious battle.
And he would die.
“This time with you have been the happiest planet rotations of my long lifespan.” He lowered his female until her boots touched the sand. “I regret nothing, would make the same decisions again. Simply touching your beautiful face is worth what will follow.” He cupped her cheeks, gazing into her concerned brown eyes. “I am and will always be the most fortunate of warriors.”
“Why are you talking like this, Death?” She placed her hands on his. “What is happening?”
“Fate.” As she was his destiny. Their paths were entwined. “Fate is happening.”
“Cyborgs don’t believe in fate.” His medic frowned. “You’ve told me that multiple times. You believe in logic and conscious choice.”
Behind them, the clone female inhaled sharply. She’d heard Tifara’s words. But her knowledge of cyborgs having free will was now low on his list of concerns.
“I made a choice.” Death skimmed his lips over Tifara’s, tasting her sweetness. “I chose you.”
She narrowed her eyes, appearing adorably frustrated with him. “And you were exiled from the other cyborgs because of that choice. Oh.” Her mouth rounded. “Shit. They’re here, aren’t they?” She looked around them. “They’ve come to take you back.”
“They haven’t come to take me back.”
“No, they haven’t,” an achingly familiar voice confirmed.
“The council sent you.” Death turned, placing his body between his female and the male he once considered to be his brethren. “That’s why you contacted me.”
He replayed the previous transmission in his processors. Menace had mentioned Death would require assistance, that he couldn’t do this alone. He hadn’t stated he would offer that assistance.
Cyborgs couldn’t lie but they could frame the truth to deceive others.
“The council didn’t send me.” Menace shook his head. There were two long black marks on each of his cheeks. One long black mark covered his model number. “If you hadn’t severed communications with me, you’d know that.”
If the council didn’t send him, who did? Death studied the male. “I severed communications with you to prevent you and other warriors from tracking my location. How did you find me?”
“You shouldn’t have accessed the battle station’s database, my friend.” Menace rested his palms on the handles of his guns. “Crash was monitoring those systems.”
“He sent you to kill me.” Death placed his hands o
n his guns also.
“He’s your friend,” Tifara murmured, sounding as betrayed as Death felt. “Why would he want to kill you?”
“Listen to your female, you stubborn bag of bolts.” Menace’s gaze moved to Tifara. “She—”
“Don’t look at her.” A wave of red-hot fury swept over Death. He rushed forward, grabbed the stunned cyborg by the shoulders and flipped him to the ground.
Menace’s back hit packed sand with a loud smack and air whooshed out of him. “You attacked me.” He glared upward.
“I should kill you.” Death extracted two daggers from their sheaths.
“Yet you haven’t killed him.” His female hurried to his side. “And you’re not going to. If you truly wanted to end his lifespan, you would have already done that.” She placed her hand on his arm.
The contact dissipated some of his anger. She was right. He didn’t want to kill his brethren. That was why Menace continued to live.
“He’s your friend.” Tifara softened her voice. “It would hurt your heart to harm him.”
“Death doesn’t have friends.” Menace opened his big mouth.
“You’re not helping the situation.” His female frowned down at the cyborg. “Did Crash send you to kill Death? Give us a straight answer.” She waggled her finger. “No evasion tactics.”
“Crash didn’t send me to kill Death, Death’s clever female.” Menace’s eyes glowed with respect.
Death stood straighter, his back fusing with pride. His female was intelligent and strong. The other warrior recognized that.
“I don’t report to the E model,” the warrior elaborated. “I’m not his favorite being at the moment. I stole his female’s beloved ship.”
Death inwardly winced. Safyre, Crash’s female, considered that ship to be her home.
“And I would never damage your male.” Menace’s words rang with sincerity. “I owe Death my lifespan and, even though he’s a stubborn ass and prone to paranoia, he remains my friend.”
“Then why are you here?” Tifara wasn’t done with her interrogation.
“If he rebels, I rebel.” The warrior’s gaze slanted to Death. “I told him that.”
“That was a foolish decision.” Death would have made the same one. He wouldn’t have left Menace to deal with the situation alone. They were brethren. “You doom yourself to death.”
“If we’re caught.” Menace grinned. “I plan to avoid that for as long as possible.”
Both of them knew they’d be caught eventually. The warrior was giving up his lifespan to assist him.
Death acknowledged that sacrifice with a grunt and extended his hand. Menace gripped it as Death hefted the cyborg to his feet and slapped his shoulder so hard, it jostled him.
His clever Tifara, correctly assuming the crisis was over, scanned the warrior with her modified private viewscreen. “I see his nanocybotics. He must be exuding pheromone-like aerosols. Yet I feel no attraction to him. None at all.”
“Ugh.” Menace clutched the area above his heart. “That hurts.”
“It would hurt more if she felt an attraction,” Death said dryly, secretly pleased she felt nothing. “She’s my female.”
“Yes, yes, I’m your female. You’re my big strong male. Rawr.” She beat her chest with one tiny fist, mocking him.
Menace, that malfunctioning cyborg, laughed.
Death shook his head. He should have killed his friend.
“But is my lack of attraction to other cyborgs due to our unique genetic pairing?” She took a step blindly to the left.
Death cupped her head, holding her in place, stopping her pacing. This wasn’t the cave or their ship. The terrain around them held dangers and his little medic was cognizant of none of them. He had to keep her by his side.
“Or is my lack of attraction because I already host your nanocybotics?” Tifara didn’t appear to notice his hand on the top of her head. She was lost in science again. “Hmmm…”
Her erotic humming hardened his cock.
“What is your female talking about?” Menace looked at him.
Death said nothing. The warrior would learn soon enough that his female questioned anything and everything in the universe.
A stone skittered along the sand behind them. Menace turned his head. “We’re being watched.” His hands lowered once more to his guns.
“No killing,” Tifara yelled, emerging from her medical stupor.
“It’s the clone female,” Death explained.
“There’s nothing to fear, Ada-971.” His female communicated. “Death’s friend, Menace, has joined him in exile.”
“The humanoid has a model number?” Menace lifted his eyebrows. “How is—”
Ada-971 emerged from the shadows, her gun in her hands, and the warrior stopped talking. His eyes rounded and his jaw dropped.
Tifara held up her private viewscreen, scanning first Menace and then the clone female. “Interesting.”
“You chose to join your friend in exile?” Ada-971 asked, respect in her expression.
Menace nodded excessively, his head bobbing like a severed skull bouncing on hard rock.
The male was besotted.
“We need another cyborg or another female or ideally, both, and I could test this theory,” Tifara mused.
Another cyborg. Fraggin’ hole. He was losing his edge. “Are your transmission lines still open?” Death demanded. “If they are, you’ll leave a trail for the council warriors.”
“I’m keeping them open for Mayhem.” Menace’s gaze didn’t move from Ada-971. “He got himself abducted by a tiny humanoid female.” He grinned. “Once he frees himself, he’ll join us. I look forward to hearing that story.”
Mayhem would be ridiculed for the rest of his lifespan. The two warriors were extremely competitive and didn’t tolerate any weaknesses.
“Some humanoid females have trapping skills.” Ada-971 frowned.
“I didn’t say they don’t have trapping skills,” Menace rushed to assure her. “Humanoid females are wondrous beings, tall and strong with white hair and eyes the color of an Aquilan sky.”
“You’ve been to Aquila V?”
Fraggin’ hole. They were both besotted.
His female must have reached the same conclusion. “The symptoms are very similar yet, again, confined to the two of them.”
She held the private viewscreen at arm’s length and pointed it at herself. Death watched her, bemused. His determined human was scanning herself.
She studied the findings. “My body shows the opposite reaction to the other male’s presence. The constant arousal I experience around you, my new normal, has decreased in his proximity.”
“Because he’s not your male,” Death explained yet again. “You’re mine. Your body reacts only to my presence.”
Menace reached out to touch Ada-971’s hair.
“Don’t touch her.” Tifara barked.
“It’s forbidden,” the clone female murmured. “But the rules no longer apply to us. We’re in exile.”
“We’re both in exile.” Menace’s voice was ridiculously soft.
Death stared at him. Did his voice lower when he spoke to Tifara also? Had he been unknowingly revealing his caring, putting her at risk?
“No contact until I scan Ada-972 while Menace is in her presence.” His medic didn’t care about rules. She was concerned with her experiments.
“There will be no scanning of Ada-972.” Death deactivated the sensors around the ship. “If Menace can track us here, others will also. We should leave the planet immediately.”
“We can’t leave until Mayhem arrives.” Menace winked at Ada-971 and a flush of purple pigment swept over her face. “This is our designated meeting location and he’ll have a challenge reaching this point. He doesn’t have a ship.”
Death glanced at Tifara.
She gazed at him, not at her private viewscreen. “We have to wait.” She read his processors. “He followed you, leaving everything and everyone else he
knew. We can’t leave him.”
He blew out his breath. She was right. “We’ll leave the planet once Mayhem arrives.” It felt like yet another mistake but he owed his brethren that consideration.
He owed his friend. Death caught Menace’s gaze. “You could explore other parts of the planet while we wait. Standing by my side might result in your death.” Everyone he cared for died. He stepped closer to Tifara. “It’s dangerous being my…”
He paused, the word stuck in his throat.
“Being your friend.” Menace completed the sentence for him. “We’ve been friends for many human lifespans, Death. Saying the words isn’t necessary. Mayhem and I feel it in your actions.”
Tifara slid her palm in his.
“Only a friend would have acted like such a stubborn ass and stunned me when I tried to help him.” Menace’s teeth flashed, the male rarely serious. “If you hadn’t cared for me, you would have seen the logic in my offer and accepted my assistance.”
“Ada-972 tried to stop me from joining her in exile also.” The clone female looked at the warrior with open admiration.
“But you are a brave, loyal, caring female and you followed her.” Menace beamed with approval and pride. “And that led you here, to me.”
“She knows what you are.” Death interrupted the cooing. “She can never again communicate with others. It would put our cyborg brethren in jeopardy.”
“Who would I communicate with?” Ada-971 muttered. “I’m exiled.”
“I’ll stay with her at all times.” Menace put his arm around her waist. The female jerked, her eyes widening.
“So much for no contact,” Tifara muttered. She held up her private viewscreen. “Arousal has increased but there’s been no transfer of nanocybotics. She’s not yet infected.”
“Infected?” Menace repeated.
“Arousal?” Ada-971 squeaked.
“Your theory appears to be correct.” His little medic didn’t sound pleased about that. “The infection must be spread solely by exchange of fluids—saliva and cum.”
