Making new memories.
Silas has returned to Earth after living in space for nearly ten years. He doesn’t expect much except for bad memories of the surfing accident that injured him and convinced him to work as a cyborg for the government. But back on his old beach, he finds a sexy man named Peter who helps him to remember what he loved about the waves.
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A Brief Vacation
Copyright © 2017 Ravon Silvius
ISBN: 978-1-4874-1113-8
Cover art by Angela Waters
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
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A Brief Vacation
Erotic Cyborg Stories
By
Ravon Silvius
Dedication
To Eric
A Brief Vacation
Grains of sand tickled Silas’ feet. He smiled at a sensation he hadn’t felt in nearly ten years. After the cold, sterile steel of the ships and space station he’d lived on, even the wet sand clinging to his toes felt nice.
“Bring back memories?” his sister Annelie asked. She took a step closer to the water. The ocean rushed around her ankles.
Silas nodded. A salty breeze blew off the sea and rippled his long-sleeved shirt against his chest. A little boy played by the water. The boy stared at him, tilting his head in confusion before going back to filling his bucket with sand. Silas knew how out of place he looked, standing on the beach in long pants and a sweater.
“Worth the trip?”
Silas huffed a laugh. “If I had known...”
“Hey, we all thought Grandma was on her last legs. Just be happy she got better. Now you get to relax on Earth for a few days. Enjoy the beach!” Annelie pointed at the ocean. “Just don’t drown with those heavy cyborg arms of yours.”
Silas sighed inwardly, but played it off by giving his sister a friendly shove. She stumbled a few steps away, laughing. “Get out of here, will you?” Silas said with a small grin. “Let me enjoy the old beach in peace.”
“Not so old. Not for those of still living here, like Grandma.” She waved and headed back up to the grassy dunes that marked where the beach met the boardwalk. Soon enough, she disappeared, leaving Silas alone. She had a plane to catch and a family to return to.
He watched the waves roll in and out, taking a few steps closer so they washed over his feet. Pinpricks of cold flowed up his legs, made worse by the cuffs of his pants that clung to his legs as they got wet.
He should, by all rights, be out on the research station on Europa. But a message from home had come in, and he’d gotten a week’s leave to see his dying grandmother.
His grandmother, who right now was in her beach house, dying for another piña colada. Thank goodness for modern medicine, quite possibly the result of experiments carried out on cyborgs like him.
Of course, modern medicine had made him a cyborg in the first place. He clenched his fist, the metal hidden by the glove. This hadn’t been his first choice. But after what had happened, it had been a good one.
He should head back. A week wasn’t all that much time in the grand scheme of things, and he should spend as much as he could with his grandmother. But instead of returning, he walked on, his steps heavy on the squishy sand and his feet slowly going numb from the cold ocean water.
At one time he’d loved the ocean. He tilted his head back, sniffing the salty air that carried a musky tinge he hadn’t smelled in years. Everything in space was sterile. Gleaming metal walls. Controlled, recycled air. And a constant, cool 68 degrees.
Here, cool air combated the heat of the sun beating down on his body, which in turn competed with the frigid water. Any swimmer would likely have to wear a wetsuit.
As well as any surfer. A dot in the distance resolved itself into a person, running full speed into the water with the tell-tale gait of someone who was holding a board.
Silas walked closer, watching as the person dove and began to paddle out. The beach crested into a spit of sand, the waves fiercer. As a child, his parents had always told him to be careful on this part of the beach. Naturally, their admonition had just made him want to play there more.
The person—and as he got closer, Silas could see it was a man, one with bleached blond hair and a lithe, muscular build—was swimming hurriedly away, one arm resting on his board. Silas could remember the sensation of the slick, slippery board beneath his arm, the cold water around his body... simply the discomfort before the true bliss.
He could see the enjoyment in the other man from the easy set of the man’s shoulders as he caught a swell, which promised to become a wave. The man paddled with one arm, and then in a smooth, sinuous motion, even more beautiful than the sight of ships pirouetting and docking in space, he stood on the board, letting the wave carry him.
Silas’s heart beat faster, his stomach lifting and dropping in harmony with the stranger as he rode the wave. He could remember every detail—the board beneath his feet, water rushing over the smooth surface, the wind and the salty spray as he glided over the water—the perfect mixture of sun and sea. Silas mentally cheered as the blond man rode the wave perfectly. It wasn’t a huge wave, certainly smaller than the ones Silas had once challenged himself with, but the man only managed to look better as he expertly steered his board. When it crested and slowed, the man pulled out of the surge—what Silas used to call trimming the wave—and hopped back into the water, clearly preparing for the next without having to paddle all the way back from the beach.
A fierce desire to join the other man swelled in Silas’ chest, surprising him. He’d thought he was done with the sea.
As the surfer made his way back to where the waves were largest, Silas saw his head turn, probably spotting Silas. Silas knew he should really get back. This wasn’t his world anymore.
But he couldn’t stop watching. The sight of the other man mingled with his memories, and this time, the old fear didn’t return. The accident had been almost a decade ago. His life had gone on, though it hadn’t been the life he would have chosen back when he rode the waves every day.
This time the man rode the wave all the way to the sand, jogging out of the water, his board tucked under his arm. It was a short board, pale green like the ocean. Silas wondered what had happened to the pieces of his own old board. He hadn’t seen it since the accident, when it had been broken in two. Maybe they still floated somewhere in the ocean.
But those bad memories faded further as the man drew close. He was gorgeous. The sun shone on his well-sculpted body, the light glimmering off the water that ran down his flat torso. Silas suddenly felt out of place, his own instinctive desire for the man mingling with the knowledge that he didn
’t belong here any longer. He should be in space, doing research on ice and water flows on Europa.
“Like to watch, huh?” The man tossed his head, flicking water out of blond bangs just long enough to cover his eyes otherwise. “Aren’t you hot in that getup? Its summer, man.”
Silas made a quick decision. Some people hated cyborgs. But he wouldn’t be here long enough to really experience what might happen if people decided to take out their anger or disgust with the men and women who modified their bodies for off-planet work. He should have just forgone the long clothes and gloves from the beginning. Right now, in the face of the ocean and the sun, his reluctance this morning seemed foolish.
The man’s eyes widened when Silas took his gloves off, and then the sweater, revealing his powerful metal arms. “Whoa, man,” he said. Despite his words, no disgust marred his features. “No contentment just living on Earth for you, huh?”
The words stung, and Silas didn’t even know why. He’d given that up. But regret tinged his voice when he answered, “Not anymore.”
“Being in space must be cool, right?” the man said. “Smoothest ride you can imagine, up there.” He grinned.
Silas had to smile back. He should never have been nervous about being open about his modifications. “You don’t feel it the same as when you surf,” he said.
The man blinked. “You surf... er, used to surf? You kinda had the look. I mean, not the look physically, but that look. You know. Like you knew what you would want to do if you were out there.”
The man was perceptive. Or maybe it was just a case of someone recognizing a kindred spirit. “Yeah, I did. Once upon a time. I’m Silas. I used to live here.” He motioned back to the grassy dunes, and then out to the sea.
“I’m Peter. I moved here five years ago when the business life got too stressful.” Peter chuckled. “My parents were disappointed, but teaching surfing? Man, that was the dream. And now I’m living it. Not as exciting as exploring space, though, I’m sure.” He turned sparkling blue eyes on Silas. “It must be pretty great.”
He wanted to know about it, clearly. Silas didn’t know why he hadn’t expected that. Other cyborgs who’d returned on vacations or on leave had always talked about the discrimination they’d faced, people who didn’t know how to react to them or treated them like they might be potentially violent. Or worse, they were treated like invalids. That had scared Silas the most.
But Peter’s innocent curiosity chased away all those fears. Silas found himself smiling. He lifted his hand, flexing his metal fingers. “I don’t do too much of interest. I study water on Europa. And dig wells to put in sensing equipment.” Peter’s mouth quirked in an amused grin. “It’s not as glamorous as one would think.”
“Neither is surfing, in a lot of ways. At least not as glamorous as the big city. I used to work in Eleport, before taking my life into my own hands and moving away from home.” Silas nodded. That, at least, explained some things. The city that contained the space elevator was a bustling metropolis, and someone who had grown up there would be more likely to be accustomed to cyborgs. “But I do it because I love it. You must too, right?”
Silas didn’t answer immediately. Thoughts of Europa—what had essentially been his home for nearly ten years—flashed through his mind.
The plumes of water erupting on the surface. The thrill of discovering how the water moved through the core of the planet, beneath tunnels of stone and ice. Laughing and talking with other cyborgs. Imagining the hidden ocean beneath the ice.
“Yeah, I do like it,” Silas answered. “But sometimes, I miss the Earth’s ocean too.”
“No surfing on Europa?” Peter asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Silas laughed. “Not unless you have the warmest wetsuit in the universe.”
“What made you decide to go up there?” Peter asked. “It must have been some dream you had as a kid.” He pointed to Silas’s metal arm, and then touched it in a way that was almost tender. Silas wondered if he was reading Peter’s intention correctly, or if it was just ignorance on Peter’s part when it came to interacting with cyborgs.
He pushed away the sudden rush of curiosity and arousal. “I didn’t plan on it, actually,” he said. He looked back out to the ocean, watching another wave curl in on itself. “I always just wanted to surf.”
Peter followed his gaze. “So... something happened, huh?”
Peter was smart for a beach bum. Then again, Silas had always hated when people assumed he’d been a mindless beach bum too. “Yeah. An accident, and an injury. Plus... I had to get my life in order, you know? There’s no room for twenty-year olds who don’t pull their weight... or so my mother said.”
“Harsh. My parents said the same thing, though. Part of the reason I left. No matter how much money I made, it wasn’t good enough for them.” Peter laughed. “Guess I didn’t go as far as you, though.”
“It wasn’t just that, I guess. I was... afraid, after the accident ten years ago. I couldn’t face it anymore. So I ran.” It felt stupid to admit it, but the weight of the fear fell away as he talked. Something about Peter made it easy. “I loved the ocean. I still do. But after the accident...” He trailed off, almost afraid of what he would see when he met Peter’s eyes again.
He found only understanding, and a slow nod. “Plenty of people I teach are afraid,” he said. “One of them...” He shook his head, a small smile on his face. “She’s terrified of the water. I don’t know why she wants to surf. I think it’s to be with her boyfriend. But hey, think of it this way. At least you have a reason to be frightened.”
Silas tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“You were in an accident. People talk about it, you know. About the rocks by what’s now a hotel—great waves, but no one surfs there anymore. People talk about the guy who wiped out there ten years ago, and how badly he was injured. He never surfed again. Some people said he died. But it was you, right?”
Silas’s stomach clenched, a strange emotion welling in his chest. As though his body tried to summon old fear, but there was no adrenaline left to power it. “I guess I became a famous surfer after all,” he said with a humorless laugh.
Peter smiled, the sight chasing away the last of the dark memory. “Do you still want to surf? You’re young. Not much older than me. And I don’t want to think I’ll be washed up in a few years.”
“Not if you’re careful,” Silas said. “That was my mistake.” He sighed, his breath drowned out by a whistling breeze. “And I don’t think I can swim any more. Not with arms like these.” He shrugged. “Like I said, I gave it up.”
“Have you tried?” Peter asked.
Silas eyed the swirling water. “I suppose I haven’t,” he admitted. “But it would be like swimming with weights on your body. And there’s metal in my skeleton too—to anchor the arms. I can’t do it.”
Peter frowned. “Are you sure?”
Silas bit his lower lip. The doctors hadn’t specified he couldn’t swim, only that it would be more difficult. He studied water on Europa. He had to be able to swim in case of an emergency. He wasn’t like other cyborgs whose enhancements were heavy enough to make it impossible.
“I’m not certain,” Silas said. “But—”
“You’re afraid.”
Silas had to nod.
“What say we try?”
Silas met the other man’s eyes. “What?”
“We try. Right now. We go somewhere the waves are calm—down the beach. You used to surf, and you loved the ocean. I can tell. You’re going back to space soon, right? Wouldn’t you regret it if you didn’t even try to experience the ocean while you can?”
Would he? Silas paused, thinking back to Europa. And then farther back, to his time before, his teen years when he’d spent every day on this beach, picking only the best waves to ride. It had been such an easy life. Studying the ocean, knowing every rock and shoal on the beach he’d have to avoid... it was the same studiousness
that made his job on Europa easy.
The accident should never have happened. But not everything could be predicted.
“C’mon,” Peter said, and Silas realized the other man had started walking down the beach. “Follow me if you want. It’s up to you. But I think it’s time to make some good memories of this beach again, don’t you?”
Silas almost let him go. But he found himself following, the sand soft beneath his feet.
Peter looked back over his shoulder and smiled, slowing down for Silas to catch up. They walked in silence next to each other for a time, Silas very aware of how Peter looked at him, the other man’s blue eyes sparkling with what Silas hoped was unmistakable interest.
Silas knew what people said about cyborgs. They were insatiable after being isolated and taking libido inhibitors up in space. That had never been Silas. Sure, he loved sex, and he loved men. But he wasn’t about to pressure someone who wasn’t interested.
Peter certainly seemed interested. But Silas would let him make the first real move.
“C’mon,” Peter said. Silas nodded. He knew this part of the area. It was isolated, encircled by high dunes, and it ended near a turn of the beach. A sandy depression had formed in the rocks that faced the water, a result of the high tides. During low tide, a small, cool cave was revealed that one would have to swim to. He used to rest there, hiding from responsibility.
“You ready?” Peter asked.
“I never thought I’d have to be coaxed into the water.” His skin tingled with sudden nerves as water rushed higher onto his legs than it had in nearly ten years.
He’d been sprayed with water on Europa, of course. But never submerged. This water was... normal, he had to admit. Salty, and warmer than the frigid water on Europa.
He thought back to his time as a surfer, and moved farther in. There was nothing to be done about his pants, but he removed his shirt and tossed it behind him. He caught Peter’s gaze, and was pleased to confirm the interest he thought he’d noticed before.
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