Ghost of a Machine

by Cynthia Sax

  It had been a favorite place of hers. There, she had a clear view of the stars, a wide unencumbered space with no beings, no structures. She could breathe, could hear her own thoughts.

  When the Humanoid Alliance ships had appeared, she had marveled at the beauty of the vessels, the alien shapes, the bright lights, the settlement sky glow bouncing off their gleaming panels. She had thought it was a sign that she was meant to leave Mercury Minor, to explore the universe.

  Then the bombing had started.

  She’d been right. She’d left the planet. And she hadn’t lived her family’s lifespans because they had all died in that first strike.

  “If you were mine, truly mine”—petting his neck, she stroked his skin, finding comfort in the act while soothing him—“I wouldn’t take you for granted. I would never leave you. I’d appreciate you.”

  “Yours.” His eyelids partially lowered, a look of contentment on his primitive countenance.

  He wasn’t hers forever but for however long this lasted, she could pretend he belonged to her. Lethe touched him, learning the shape of his face, the lines of his jaw, the square set of his chin.

  The link between them remained. It was physical, their bodies connected, and emotional. “I can’t care for you this much.” Her feelings scared her. “I barely know you.”

  His eyes opened. “Care.” He pulled away from her.

  Lethe missed his warmth but that was what she was accustomed to—males leaving. She sat, glanced over her shoulder at the main viewscreen, looking for Humanoid Alliance warships, for the enemy.

  All she saw was the merchant ship and open space.

  Metal creaked. A wrapper rustled. She returned her gaze to Ghost.

  He held out a nourishment bar. “Eat.”

  She reached for nourishment bar. He batted her hands away and raised it to her lips.

  Feeling self-conscious, she took a bite, chewed, swallowed. “I can feed myself. You don’t have to hold the nourishment bar for me.”

  “Want.” He pressed it against her lips. “Care.”

  Lethe took another bite. Her cyborg wanted to feed her, to take care of her. No one had done that in such a long time…since a few planet rotations before the invasion.

  During one of her nocturnal escapes from the settlement, she had stayed out too long. The temperature had dropped and she’d become chilled.

  The next planet rotation, her mother had taken one look at her pale face, clucked her tongue and made her a container of hot spicy liquid, a recipe that had been in their family for generations.

  Moody and discontent with the world around her, Lethe had grumbled about being too exhausted to eat it. Her mother had stroked her hair and patiently fed her the nourishment.

  Lethe had complained about that also, telling her she was no longer a child. Her mother had replied that Lethe would always be her child.

  Secretly, Lethe had relished the caring. She could clearly remember the way her mother had hummed slightly off-key as she had fed her, her warmth, her sunshine-and-spices scent.

  Her love.

  Tear pricked Lethe’s eyes.

  Ghost cupped her chin and gazed at her with concern. “Damage?”

  “There’s no damage.” She blinked away the tears, forced a smile.

  He lifted his eyebrows. Her cyborg didn’t believe her.

  “I’m still hungry.” She gazed pointedly at the nourishment bar, trying to distract him.

  Ghost grunted and patiently fed her the remaining bar. While she ate, he watched her, his expression intense. The task meant something to him.

  Lethe didn’t understand what that something was. She knew what she wanted it to be but that was unlikely. As she had said earlier, he barely knew her.

  He certainly didn’t know all of her secrets.

  “Do all cyborg males feed their females?” she asked, hoping the answer was ‘no’.

  Ghost tilted his head to the side. There was a pause as though he was thinking. “Yes.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. She wasn’t special to him. Feeding females was a sexual quirk his kind had. “That’s why you’re doing this.”

  “Want.” His eyes glowed, lit with energy. “Care. Mine.”

  Her gaze lowered to his groin. He was fully erect. “You do want.” That knowledge lifted her spirits.

  “Always.” He grinned, looking so adorably mischievous; she had to smile back at him.

  “Always.” She wished she could believe in that word, believe in him.

  Chapter Seven

  Ghost watched his female as she donned her uniform. She appeared as happy as he felt, buoyed by their victory, bubbling with his nanocybotics.

  Her eyes shone. Her skin glowed. Her golden curls framed a face flushed from vigorous breeding. He gazed at her with wonder.

  How could she doubt that he wanted her? Any functional male would desire his female.

  And she was his. He gripped her shoulder, needing to touch her, to reassure himself she wasn’t a figment of his damaged processors.

  “We should contact the merchant ship.” His female had slipped back into her captain role.

  “You.” Ghost limited the range of the recording device to her chair only. “Cyborg.” He tapped his right thumb against his bare chest.

  “You’re part of my crew.” She frowned as she claimed that seat.

  He wasn’t part of her crew. He was her only crew member and he was much more than that to her. She was his female. He was her male.

  “Threat.” Ghost indicated the main viewscreen. He knew nothing about the beings in the merchant ship.

  It could be an elaborate trap. He’d seen the Humanoid Alliance set those for unsuspecting beings. They lured Rebels in, waited for them to drop their guard, and then killed them.

  “That is unlikely.” His female disagreed. “But it wouldn’t hurt us to be cautious. The commander communicated that the Rebels’ alliance with the cyborgs was to remain a secret.”

  Ghost grunted. He hadn’t heard of any alliance between the Rebels and the cyborgs.

  “We know nothing about the merchant ship crew.” His female drummed her fingertips against the armrests. “Did we perform a lifeform scan?”

  He scanned the vessel. “Two. Human.”

  They were smaller than his female. That didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. Some of the smallest Humanoid Alliance officers had been the cruelest, reveling in killing others.

  His female stared at the main viewscreen. “If their ship is damaged and we don’t help them, they’ll be attacked by the next Humanoid Alliance warship. The battle, our victory will have been for nothing.”

  The merchant ship hadn’t moved far from their original location. That could indicate damage.

  Or it could be a trap.

  “Restrict their visual and hail them over public frequencies,” his female ordered.

  He complied. “No open.” They weren’t accepting the hail.

  Ghost’s trepidation increased. He wanted to protect his female, fly their warship far from potential danger.

  “Their communications system might be damaged.” She was determined to speak with the humans, however. “Can you force it?”

  He was a cyborg. He could do anything. Ghost opened communications.

  “A female.” The voice answering was also female. The image on the main viewscreen was scrambled, lines concealing her face. “She’s a human female, Rhea.”

  “If she’s female, she can’t be Humanoid Alliance.” Rhea, the second female, observed.

  “She’s a friend.”

  “I didn’t say that.” Rhea pointed out, her voice devoid of emotion. “Not everyone is your friend, Paloma. We talked about this.”

  “Not everyone is our enemy either,” the first female, Paloma, muttered. “Just because you’re older than me by six solar cycles doesn’t mean you know everything.”

  “We’re not talking about this right now.”

  “You started it.”

 
Ghost stabilized the visual. The two human females crowded around the transmission device.

  The older one, a brown-eyed brunette, gazed at them, her expression as blank, as unrevealing as a cyborg’s. That begrudgingly earned her Ghost’s respect. They were strangers and the females shouldn’t trust them. But it also increased his unease. What were the females hiding?

  He studied her more closely, looking for possible threats. The female’s hair was pulled back. Her flight suit was gray, blending into the panels of her ship. Her forehead was beaded with perspiration. That was due to the temperature, not nervousness. The younger female’s skin glistened also.

  The second female was the opposite of the first female. She radiated emotion, the blue-eyed blonde’s bottom lip protruding. And she was dressed to draw gazes. Her bright blue flight suit was partially unfastened, showing a portion of her breasts.

  If the skin on display was a tactic, it was wasted on Ghost. Neither Paloma nor Rhea were his female. He wasn’t physically interested in them.

  “I’m Captain Lethe.” His female introduced herself. “Do you require assistance?”

  “I’m Captain Rhea.” The older female responded.

  “Can I be a captain too?” the younger female asked.

  “No, you cannot.” Captain Rhea’s serene expression didn’t change. “This is Officer Paloma.”

  “Captain Paloma,” the younger female corrected. “We’re all captains.” She smiled.

  “Paloma.” Captain Rhea swept a strand of hair away from her face. Ghost spotted the gleam of a gun muzzle. It was hidden in her right sleeve. The female was armed.

  “Captain Paloma.” The younger female insisted on that title.

  “Our systems are damaged, Captain Lethe.” Captain Rhea returned her attention to Ghost’s female. “And we’ve been unable to repair them. We’re operating on merely a fraction of our power, have limited mobility.”

  “Dwindling supplies,” the other female contributed.

  Ghost’s female narrowed her eyes. “There was no distress call.”

  “We’re not fools.” Captain Rhea’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The Humanoid Alliance are monitoring all distress calls. If we sent one, we’d be blown out of space.”

  “Then what was your plan?” His female’s tone was dry.

  “What was our plan?” Captain Paloma looked at Captain Rhea.

  The older female didn’t answer.

  “You didn’t have one.” His female concluded. “I’m putting you on mute. I must confer with my crew.” She glanced at him.

  Ghost muted the communication, nodded at her.

  She covered her lips with her hand. “We have to help them.”

  Ghost grunted, disagreeing.

  They didn’t have to do anything.

  The two beings were female and alone, that combination triggering his protective instincts, but he had fought females in battle numerous times. They had been fierce, killed as readily, as efficiently as their male counterparts.

  And these two females didn’t belong to him or to his brethren. They weren’t Rebels, weren’t part of his female’s faction. Ghost and his female owed them nothing.

  “We’ll dock with them.” His female disregarded his misgivings. “You can stay here. I’ll try to fix their systems.”

  He didn’t like her plan. The older female was armed and was hiding something. The younger one likely was also. It could be a trap. “No dock.”

  “Ghost—”

  “No.” He wasn’t moving on that decision. “Help here.” He patted the console. They would help the two females remotely.

  “That won’t work.” His female shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing against her cheeks. “We’ll dock and—”

  “No dock,” he roared.

  “This is my ship.” She reminded him. “Captains decide whether or not a ship docks and I am the captain. That was our deal.”

  “Danger.” He wouldn’t risk her lifespan.

  “You heard the sisters, Ghost.” His female blew out her breath. “The youngest one opens her mouth and her brains fall out.” She glanced at the main viewscreen. The two females were muted but the youngest sister’s mouth moved. “They’re not plotting against us. They don’t have the ability to keep that big of a secret.”

  Ghost didn’t share his female’s level of certainty.

  She studied him for a moment. “I’ll make a deal with you, trade—”

  “No deals.” He smacked his palms against the console and she jumped. “You. Safe. First.” He held up his right index finger.

  There was nothing she could trade that was more valuable to him than her lifespan.

  “There are other females you can fuck.” She sounded exasperated with him. “We’re assisting two of them.”

  “Not Mine.” He’d lived for many human lifespans and he knew there would be no one else for him. She would be the only being he’d ever breed with, claim, care for.

  “I’m the captain,” she grumbled. “You should follow my orders.”

  Not when those orders put her lifespan at risk.

  “That could be me in that merchant ship, Ghost.” She touched his arm. “Wouldn’t you want someone to save me?”

  Some of his resolve dissipated. “Not you.” It wasn’t her in the merchant ship.

  “But someone did save me from Mercury Minor.” His female gazed at him. “Even with the payment he extracted, I was grateful. I would have died if it weren’t for him.” Sorrow, pain, loss reflected in her eyes. “The sisters might die without our help.”

  Ghost understood why she needed to help the females, the sisters as she called them. It was important to her emotional system.

  But his first concern was her physical survival.

  “If something bad happens to them, I couldn’t live with the knowledge that we didn’t try to help. It would damage me.”

  Fraggin’ hole. He could never damage her.

  “My mission.” Ghost relented. “I lead.” She would follow his orders.

  His female opened her mouth, protest reflecting in her eyes.

  “Protect.” He had to safeguard her. “No lead. No deal.” He chopped the air with his hands. That was non-negotiable. “Cyborg.” He was manufactured for these types of assignments. “Missions past.”

  All of those missions had ended with killing. He didn’t share that with his female.

  “We’ll dock with them, fix their systems?” She lifted her eyebrows.

  “I fix.” He’d repair the merchant ship’s systems, if they were truly damaged. “You here.” He patted her chair’s backrest.

  She would stay on their warship, where she was safe.

  His female frowned. “You have gray skin, those beautiful blue eyes. Your model number is inked on your cheek.”

  He stared at her. She thought his eyes were beautiful?

  “The sisters will know you’re a cyborg.”

  “Your cyborg.” The sisters didn’t have to know he was free, that he had the ability to operate on his own, without instructions.

  His female’s forehead furrowed.

  “Machine,” he explained. “You order. I obey.” The sisters would believe he was following her commands.

  “Like a robot.”

  Ghost grunted, unhappy with being compared to a brainless robot.

  “That could work.” She studied him. “And you could make the repairs quickly. You are good with systems.”

  He was also very difficult to kill. If the two humans were a threat, he’d eliminate them, keep his female safe.

  She unmuted the communications. “We’ll dock with your ship and my cyborg will assist you with your repairs.”

  “Your cyborg?” The eldest sister blinked.

  The youngest sister craned her neck as though trying to see beyond the confines of the recording device.

  “The cyborg came with the warship.” His female shifted in her seat, her discomfort with the story palpable. “I’ve reprogrammed him. He follows my c
ommands.” She paused. “Don’t draw your weapons around him. He’ll perceive that as a threat and respond.”

  The youngest sister gasped. The eldest sister nodded. “Noted.”

  “Prepare to be boarded.” His female ended communications.

  “It,” he corrected, redirecting the warship to rendezvous with the merchant ship.

  “What?” She turned her head.

  “It, not he.” Humans viewed him as a machine, not a being. “It follows. It’ll perceive.” It would protect her, he silently added.

  “It had better wear garments or it will shock those two beautiful females with its naked body.” Her lips twisted. “And the sisters were beautiful, weren’t they?”

  Ghost grunted. They weren’t his. He had no interest in them.

  “Rhea has a quiet beauty. Paloma is flashier. She’s young but I had less solar cycles when I...” His female paused. “When I escaped Mercury Minor.”

  He didn’t know how to repair the emotional damage she incurred during that escape. That frustrated him.

  “I doubt they were part of a similar invasion. They seem like good beings.” Her female implied that surviving an invasion and being a good human was mutually exclusive. “Trusting, innocent. They didn’t ask me what I wanted in return.”

  All Ghost wanted in return was his female’s safety. “Mission.” They had to focus on that, not on the sisters and not on the past.

  “Right.” His female straightened. “I’m correcting our course and slowing our speed.” She inputted their approach into the control panel.

  Ghost verified her calculations. They didn’t have a cyborg’s level of accuracy but they were sufficient. The docking connectors would be aligned.

  His female didn’t require his assistance on the bridge.

  Ghost gazed at her, reluctant to leave her yet knowing the bridge was the safest place for her to be. “If danger, shut doors. Break away.” She was to close the interior doors and disengage with the cargo ship, save herself.

  “I would never do that.” She stood. “You’d be sucked into space.”

  “Cyborg.” Cyborgs couldn’t survive in open space. He didn’t tell her that.

  “You are a cyborg.” His female gazed up at him. “You’re big and strong and you’ve completed these types of missions in the past.” Lines furrowed her forehead. “You’ll be okay.” The concern in her big brown eyes belied her words and caused hope to unfurl in Ghost’s chest.