by Imogene Nix
“God damn. I’m sorry, Levia. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The side of her face, not covered with the glowing green light, blushed. “You didn’t really.”
She ducked away, and he was entranced. Embarrassed. He’d embarrassed her. Well, damn it, he wondered if she’d done this for others, then stilled as the knowledge slammed into him. She had no experience. He closed his eyes, once more castigating himself for being several kinds of fool.
When he opened his eyes, she was gone.
* * * *
Levia scurried through the corridors, thankful when she didn’t see anyone else. At the shuttle, she scooted inside, listening for the thud of the door shutting. It didn’t make her feel better though. Instead, her belly churned. How could she have let him kiss her? Again?
“This happened once before, so you should have known what those damned indicators meant.” But just remembering the feel of him, the taste…
She felt the heat of her blush, and her pulse thrummed wildly. Blinking away the scroll of information in her corneal implant, she read through the list of physical changes in her body. Information she could do without. She didn’t want to know just how much he affected her.
She stalked in the direction of the ablution stall, but a chance look at herself in the mirror stopped her dead. “I would have given just about anything not to have been enhanced.” The green tracery glowed and her eyes… Even though they didn’t glow, she could see the outline of the lenses where they’d been inserted into the eye itself.
With shaking fingers, she shucked the stained suit, stripping down so she could look at her whole body in the mirror. It was the first time since enhancement, so long ago. She’d always shied away, because, she’d reasoned, that looking at it, made it somehow more real.
Her chest, arms, legs, and torso were crisscrossed with raised ridges, pale pink, and nasty puckers here and there. Turning showed that her back also bore the hallmarks of the surgeon, but her buttocks were unmarked. Beneath her synthetic flesh were layers of syntha-mesh, designed to give her the added advantage of superior healing, and a tensile strength in her muscles, boosting her ability to hurl items and to block attacks. She remembered back to the visit by the surgeons after the final enhancement was added, the way they catalogued the inclusions, most notably the fact that her bones had been coated with a metallic substance designed to reinforce them. Right now, when she wanted to be a woman, all woman, without the extra bits they’d added to her, it didn’t make a lot of difference.
“I’m so damaged that no one could want me.” It was an inescapable truth. One she’d accepted many years before.
Swiping at the remains of the theatrical makeup covering her face, she faced what she was. A BioCybe. Part woman and part machine. All weapon.
Yet, for some reason, he’d kissed her. “I must be delusional to even be giving this a second thought. He’s probably been without a woman for so long that even I will do.”
The words echoed in the craft, leaving her cringing. It didn’t feel right that she could even contemplate that he’d use her. She’d never noted that aspect of his nature before and it felt wrong to attribute it to him, but what other possible reason could there be?
“Damn it, Levia. You just need to get over it. He knows what you are. You’re female, and available. Just accept it then get into the shower and be done with it.”
His comment was confusing, yet it was all she was going to get.
She showered quickly and walked through the body drier on her way to the sleeping area of her craft. “So I have three full days clear. What to do?”
Accessing the neural processor, she ran through a list of possible options, including several necessary updates to her firmware, finding a way of integrating the bio-net into a light weight covering, and downloading some new piloting manuals.
“Oh, what a wicked three days I’ve got ahead of me.” The sarcasm helped her to bury her fears and loneliness, and she settled herself on the bed.
The bedding covered her nude body, and she programmed the relaxation command that started gradually settling her mind. At the edges of sleep came a thought, wispy and insubstantial, but she brushed it away, ignoring the sharp sting of fear. Tomorrow. I can deal with all these issues tomorrow.
* * * *
Three days. Three long, miserable days with no sign of Levia, and that irked him. He’d worked out she’d been in the mess hall at odd times. Was she avoiding him? It seemed likely. When he’d gone to the shuttle bay, her lock-guard had been engaged. Truth be told, he was uncomfortable—hell, it irritated him, frustrated him, and upset his equilibrium—realizing she was hiding out. How could he apologize if she wouldn’t even see him? And hell, he didn’t know if that was what he wanted to do. His mood was sour, or so the crew informed him, and more than one had cast a questioning look in his direction.
The knock at his door drew him away from his problems and he raised his head. “Come.” Sandon’s eyes narrowed as the door swung inward slowly.
Levia peered through the door, and he released a deep breath. “The others said you needed to see me?”
Time to gird the loins. With a careful movement of his hand, Sandon indicated the seat and watched as she carefully lowered herself into the modular chair. “You’re better now?”
She cocked her head to the side, her eyes gazing steadily at him. “Fully healed.”
“Excellent.” He fidgeted, unsure how to open dialogue over his actions. It wasn’t something he’d ever had to do. In his experience, women were strong and chose to either deepen the relationship or brush it off—to take control of the situation. Levia was different. She matters. The thought stopped him in his tracks. Where the hell did that come from?
“Is there anything else?”
It was only then that Sandon understood he’d been sitting there, gazing at her for some moments. He fought the need to touch her; she wouldn’t welcome it right now. “Yes. About the other day—”
“No. Nothing happened, and we can forget about it.” She rushed the words, her gaze sliding away to a fixed point over his shoulder.
“Levia, something did happen.”
When her gaze settled on him again, he read the anxiety in her features. “No. We kissed, but that’s not really anything. It’s not like we had sex. So, let’s just forget about it, right?”
The problem was he didn’t want to forget about it. The devil inside him said she likely didn’t either. Clearing his head with a shake didn’t help, and neither did the sharp intake he heard from the other side of the desk.
“Either you forget about it, or you’ll have to find another pilot. When I came aboard, that was your mandate. One I was more than happy to agree to.”
Her words stopped him short. The words he’d spoken carelessly then, now rose between them like a block wall. “Damn it, Levia…” He scrubbed his balled fist over his eyes, while his mind blanked.
“No. I was and still am only looking for a home. If you can’t promise me that, then I will leave. There are other crews looking for pilots.”
His head snapped up. “Your place here is safe. I promised that and will stand by it.”
She gave a decisive nod. “Fine. Then I’ll resume duty today. I understand that Vestang has filled the role while I’ve been on enforced leave?”
He scowled, wishing he could somehow steer the conversation back to their situation, but she’d made it clear. I’ll have to re-evaluate the situation. Once she trusts me, then perhaps I can open dialogue between us. A man needed a plan, he told himself firmly. Relationships were like business, weren’t they? You made a plan and followed it and it would all come right in the end. He just needed the data to make the correct decisions.
Satisfied with himself and his understanding of the situation, he gave Levia a smile. “Sure. Yes, he’s done a good job, but he doesn’t have the touch you do.”
Levia didn’t return his smile, and he read the wariness in her gaze. “Fine.” Standing up, sh
e made to leave the room and he wanted to call her back.
Not a good idea, Sandon. Leave her for now and make your plans. As the door closed softly behind her, he wondered if it was all that easy.
Turning back to his computer, he searched for her files and brought them up, noticing for the first time just how much wasn’t included. Laying his fingers on the communicator button, he considered for a moment not taking the next course of action. “Nothing ventured means nothing gained.”
He opened a link to the interstellar communications system, and requested his friend on Moritar 186, a scientific outpost.
The connection was scratchy at best, but upon seeing Brandon’s face, he grinned. “Hey! Met any nice girls lately?” It was an ongoing banter from their earliest days together.
“Hah! If it’s not my favorite entrepreneur, Sandon pal! I wondered when I’d be seeing your ugly mug again. What can I do for you?”
“I have a problem with one of my crewmembers. I’m wondering if you could…dig up some information?” Brandon had never let him down before, and he certainly hoped he could work his magic again.
“Details?”
Sandon explained the situation to his friend, leaving out his personal feelings.
Brandon’s surprise shone clearly. “You want me to access her files?”
It sounded furtive when described like that, but Sandon knew what he needed was contained within them. “Yeah.”
“Geez. Couldn’t you make it something easier?”
Sandon’s hackles rose, but Brandon was doing him a favor, so he kept quiet.
“I’ll take a look, but these files are encrypted to the max. I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best. How do you want them sent?”
He gave the details, and Brandon nodded. “I’ll get back to you.” Without another word, the connection between them died.
* * * *
The flight via Alpha Aurigae took nine long days. Of course, it was long to her, but the crew was ecstatic. Under normal circumstances, it took ten and a half. She’d managed to increase the engine output and the speed of the shuttle with her tweaks and recalculations.
If she were honest with herself, it was a case of doing whatever in order to keep busy and keep the memories from rising up. The ones that warmed her to the core and left her hungry—for him.
Standing in the line for breakfast in the galley right now was the perfect example. Her gaze roamed over his form. He was lean, but not thin, and the uniform he wore covered him like a glove. She particularly liked the way it covered his butt.
Dragging her eyes away, she caught sight of Gorthos, grinning at her. The scales covering his arms trembled a little, and she knew what that meant.
“Hi, Gorthos. I’ll just have a Yanian egg, thanks.”
“Now, you know that’s not enough to get you through the day. How about I cook you a nice little Yuvu sausage to go with it?”
The blue sausage was the same color as his scales, something she knew to be part of the mating ritual of his people. Feed them something you’ve cooked, representing the color of your scales. If they accept, they are willing to undergo the Aparvee.
“That’s kind of you, Gorthos, but I’m not really into Yuvu sausages. Honestly, the egg is sufficient.”
He blinked rapidly and she felt bad for turning him down, but encouraging his feelings would only make things worse.
She grabbed one of the white china mugs, heading for the coffee dispenser. When she arrived, the cup was taken from her hands by Sandon. He’d watched the exchange and frowned, though she hoped he understood what she’d just done.
“Did you accept the offer?” he asked.
“What offer?”
“The sausage. You are aware…”
“Yes, I know about the food rituals, and no, I didn’t. I promised I wouldn’t tie myself to anyone onboard, and I mean to keep that promise.”
He thrust the cup into her hand and she hissed as the heat radiated to nerves not covered by the syntha-derm.
“Did I hurt you?”
“What? Oh… No. Sometimes the bio… Uhh, I feel things a little more than others.” Flustered, she’d nearly said the bio-sensors increased the feedback. Then she’d be giving the whole game away if anyone heard. It was bad enough that Sandon knew.
“Oh. I should have known,” he muttered, and she felt the kick of concern.
“Look, it’s okay. You weren’t aware.” She cast around thinking for something to say, but drew a blank.
He gazed at her and she returned it. The air grew thick until a communicator squawk registered.
“Captain Daria here.”
“Sandon, we have an encoded message coming through. You need to report to the bridge.”
He grimaced and she gulped. “You go along, and I’ll grab your order and bring it up.”
“Yeah, okay. I’ll take your coffee then.”
Handing over her cup seemed a whole lot more intimate than she’d ever experienced, and watching him leave the galley, she was left with the impression others had drawn the same conclusions.
Gorthos moved in her direction, both hands laden with plates. “The captain…”
“Something came up on the bridge. I’ll take both of these and make sure he gets it.”
“But… Levia?”
She hated what she had to say next. “Gorthos, I know of the Aparvee. I’m not the one you want though. I’m not emotionally committed to you like that, and I know that once I entered into it with you, it would be a life-long connection, and I can’t sustain that. It’s not about you, Gorthos.” If only I had the right words to explain it. Leaning a little closer, she caught his gaze. “You deserve someone who will give everything for you, and I can’t.” She shrugged, feeling lame as she tried to explain without hurting his feelings.
The shimmering of his scales stilled, and she knew her words distressed him, no matter how soft she tried to make the rejection.
“You’re a great guy, Gorthos. Just not the one for me, and I’m not the girl for you.”
Before he could tell her she could be, she hurried out the door and into the corridor.
Keeping her thoughts intentionally blank, she headed for the bridge, balancing the plates. The conference table behind her sling was free of items so she carefully slid them onto the glossy surface and took a seat.
Sandon stalked over to the table and threw himself into the seat opposite her. His whole body radiated anger, and she leaned forward just a fraction. “Something wrong?”
“You could say that. The officials from Omega V placed a complaint.”
An icy cold trickle dribbled down her back. “About what?”
“You.”
“Ahhh.” She could well see what they were saying. That the crew of the Golden Echo had knowingly brought a BioCybe to a class four weapon-free planet in violation of their entry agreements.
If they were found guilty, the ship could be impounded, she’d be locked away—and that was always her greatest fear—and Sandon could lose everything. The possibilities certainly made her feel ill.
“So?” She waited and knew he understood her question when his head bowed over his plate.
With a fork, he dug around in the mass of food, not eating, just playing. “When we reach Juranaa, we are to present ourselves to the headquarters of the Private Militia Association.”
The cold trickle turned to a frozen lump lodged deep in her chest. “Who laid the complaint?”
“I don’t know.”
She guessed it was one of those inside the brig. Maybe the big guy with the scar on his face, the one who’d first applied a fist to her face, the one who’d reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t place who. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
* * * *
The last few days had been manic as Sandon prepared the defense. The one question that worried him the most was if they asked if he’d known she was a BioCybe. There’d be no other answer he could give; knowing he probably faced the possibility
of a mind probe, should they be inclined. He’d have to tell the truth, and that would damn Levia.
“Closing on Juranaa, Captain. We will be reaching orbital position in the next three hours.”
If he hadn’t known better, he’d say she was confident and comfortable. If I didn’t know better… That summed it up for him. Now that he understood her, he could see the cracks beneath the surface. She hid her fears, brutally subduing them behind the icy façade, and kept herself aloof.
“Fine.” By the time they took position in orbit, he would be on the bridge, supporting her. Sandon told himself it was no more than he’d do for anyone else. Wasn’t it? But even as he gazed out over the dark star field, he knew he was running from the truth.
* * * *
Planting her feet on the surface of Juranaa brought a moment of fear. Levia had already made arrangements for the unloading of the cargo, the remains of the many soldiers from Omega V. She wasn’t even sure right now if she counted her blessings whether or not she was among the load.
The sun beat down, the masking of her theatrical makeup clogging the pores of her skin, and the suit she wore, hiding the implants and enhancements, tightened painfully.
“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” Sandon said, startling her.
Turning in his direction, she wondered why he’d stuck close beside her. Their placement in orbit then the flight of their shuttle, he’d been almost off-putting—the way he’d stayed on the bridge and followed her about.
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to pretend he was worried about her, wanting to be with her, and then she laughed it away silently. No one wanted a BioCybe. No matter that he’d kissed her; it was a momentary lapse of reason.
The stamping of several pairs of feet claimed her attention. Three men, wearing the official uniform of the Private Militia Association, towered over her. Their faces bore the hard and darkly forbidding visage of a warrior. She swallowed the instinctive fear that rose. They were there because of her.
“Captain Daria? You are to come with me and bring…” The man’s words died away, as if he were unsure how to refer to her.
The feel of Sandon’s hand curling around hers was shocking, but welcome. She held on, needing the reassurance, as they followed the men along the walkway. Several tall buildings lay ahead, the middle one, white and unmistakably ugly, was their destination. She knew it well. It was the building where she’d been registered after the completion of her training and enhancements. The place where she’d been tested psychologically and found sound after the trials she’d overcome.
