by Marie Dry
“You are my human. I saw you and demanded the president give you to me.” Again he sounded like a petulant child.
Aurora carefully put her hand over his. Over that alien three-fingered hand with its moving tattoo rushing to lie under her palm, as if it wanted to soak up her touch. “I know I am your human, and I am curious about everything about you. That includes your friends.” Did it mean anything that his tattoo moved to her touch?
Images flashed through her mind, Balthazar bringing her wine, Nebuchadnezzar trying to do conversation, the endearing way they tried to please her. Suddenly, it was real, what she had to do. These were the beings she had to betray. In spite of what Balthazar said earlier about taking Earth, she couldn’t think of him as the enemy anymore. She was going to have to find a weakness and cold bloodedly use it to destroy them. Only, she wasn’t so sure anymore that she could do it.
Could she afford not to do it? For Ter. Wouldn’t it be ironic if she finally received forgiveness from Ter and yet have to live with the knowledge that she helped make a budding new race extinct? She was haunted by the thought of Balthazar dead--or worse, enslaved again.
CHAPTER 9
Only the clanking of the cutlery, used with clumsy synchronized effort by the cyborgs, broke the silence in the mess hall. Aurora bit her lip and focused on her plate when some of the cyborgs practiced eating and swallowing and then turned to each other with endearing awkwardness to practice conversation in English. How did they sustain themselves until now? That was only a fleeting thought. The reality of what she had to do penetrated down to the very cells in her body. At that moment, she wished she was made up of Bunrika technology, like the cyborgs around her. Maybe then, she could use and betray Balthazar without this terrible ache in her heart.
“May I talk to your human?” a cyborg sitting two rows down from her asked.
Balthazar took his time cutting his meat, though the way the cook mashed it, it didn’t need cutting. He chewed and then put down his knife and fork before answering. “You may speak to her for ten standard Earth minutes.”
Aurora nearly rolled her eyes at that obvious display of power. You’d think he was the only male with a female of his own. Her heart gave a funny twist at that thought. Did she belong to him? Would she feel free of him if she ever got back to Ter? She had this awful feeling that she’d be left with a hole in her heart.
“My name is Amelagar--”
“Nice to meet you, Amelagar,” she said.
He sat as of frozen. She’d gone off script.
Smiling and shaking her head, she explained, “When you talk to someone for the first time, you or a friend introduce yourself, and the person you are introduced to says it’s nice to meet you.”
“I understand.”
“What would you like to talk about, Amelagar?” He’d better hurry up. She could literally feel Balthazar timing them.
“I am tracking the anomaly with the oxygen, and I will find the problem. It is not a leak in the hull. Our hull repairs itself--”
Balthazar didn’t move or say anything, but Amelagar stilled. At this rate, she wouldn’t have to snoop around for information about their spaceship and their weapons. She only had to eat in the mess hall, and she’d learn all kinds of interesting things.
Pretending not to have heard his lapse, she smiled. “Maybe when we have our next meal together--” At Balthazar’s growl, she quickly amended, “--I mean when you have your next meal with me and Balthazar, you can tell us about your progress with the anomaly.” She smiled again, trying to look as if self-fixing spaceships didn’t interest her in the least--or freak her way the hell out.
Balthazar’s fist crashed down on the table, plates and utensils clattering around.
Aurora nearly crawled out of her skin and clutched her chest. “What’s wrong with you? You scared the spit out of me.”
He motioned to her lips. “I know what that means.”
She touched them, totally confused. “I don’t understand.”
“When you pull your lips like that, you are smiling. The Tunrians did that too, and I know what it means.”
“I don’t know what it means on Tunria, but here it is a friendly gesture,” she said. Not that dripping sarcasm did her any good. It went right over his head.
“Exactly.”
And she’d thought having him trying to shake loose her soul would be the weirdest thing she experienced on board this ship. She could never have imagined this conversation. “I don’t understand why you don’t want me to smile at Amelagar. Don’t you want me to be friendly to your men?”
“You are my human.”
Aurora stared at him. “You’re jealous.” At least he didn’t say she was his running human this time.
“What is this jealous?” Even while he asked the question, she saw his eyes stare straight ahead for a moment. Accessing their database? He blinked and focused back on her. “Yes, that is correct, I am jealous.” He took up his knife and fork and calmly resumed eating.
The others, who’d stopped to observe their interaction, also continued with their dinner.
Aurora looked around for her utensils, and the cook suddenly appeared and handed her a clean knife and fork. “Thank you.” She started to smile at him, hesitated, and then did it anyway. When Balthazar didn’t try to destroy the table again, she resumed eating.
“You are not taking adequate sustenance to meet the requirements for your body to function with optimal efficiency,” Balthazar said.
Aurora set down her knife and fork and turned to spear him with a look. “If you want to discuss such a private matter, I prefer we do it when we’re alone.” She’d distract him long before they could speak about her eating habits.
He didn’t show any reaction, but she sensed that pleased him. “Yes, we are close and should discuss such matters when we are alone. We will do it tonight, when you are back in our cabin and before you show me your hooha.”
All the cyborgs stopped, their utensils paused in that eerie synchronized way. As if someone pressed a button, all their heads turned toward them.
Her face was on fire. She could feel a blush burn from her head down to her breasts and race down to her toes. “You think my eating habits should be private, but you talk about hoohas in public?” To be specific, her hooha. She didn’t know if she should throw a screaming fit or simply run away and hide. Her face felt so hot she was surprised it didn’t explode from spontaneous combustion.
“Yes.”
“A man--a person--never ever talks about such things in front of others,” she said through clenched teeth. “Never!”
“Why not?”
“Never.” She turned to the frozen cyborgs. “You lot, start eating and stop listening to private conversations,” she barked at them, all fear forgotten. She’d never been so embarrassed in her life.
They remained frozen for a while, and then they faced forward and continued their synchronized eating.
Balthazar looked down at her. “I shouldn’t talk about your hooha in front of others?”
Aurora closed her eyes. “Not in front of others, not with others, and not about it ever.”
“Why?”
She could actually see him access his database and come up empty. She could just imagine that search. Why can’t a cyborg talk about his running human’s hooha?
“The same reason you don’t eat with your mouth open, it’s not polite,” she said.
Aurora looked around the mess hall. She had her work cut out with this lot. She shook off that thought. She wasn’t here to help them socialize. She had one goal. Find the cyborg’s weaknesses so that she could get back to Earth and find Ter. She was close. So close. If the bow with the pink frog belonged to Ter, Aurora had to find a way to either make the president rescue her or find a way to get back to Earth?
They ate in silence for a while. Aurora took miniscule bites and made sure to make busy movements with her knife and fork. She’d perfected the art of appearing to eat.
&
nbsp; “Are the Tunrians open about sexual matters?” she asked, sensing the secret to Balthazar lay in his violent past.
Again all the cyborgs paused with their utensils held comically in front of their mouths for a few seconds before they resumed eating.
He stared at her for a while, chewing and swallowing before saying, “The cloned Tunrians who have found their soul mates are very private, but it is said they have many rituals.”
Again with the soul mate. “Humans believe when they marry that they have found their soul mates.” She could’ve kicked herself. He didn’t need any more fuel for his soul obsession.
“Their souls were split by your deity as well?”
“Uh no, not really. It’s more something we say than actual fact.”
“On Tunria, it is fact,” he said.
She doubted that, but then, until their ships arrived she had doubted the existence of aliens. “And these soul mates would stay together and be true to each other for life?”
“They claimed to stay together, but I know of a case where soul mates parted after two thousand years and another after five thousand years together.”
Aurora swallowed wrong and choked. Five thousand years? “Before they started cloning themselves were the Tunrians born, like humans?”
“Yes, when the Tunrians started the cloning process, only Tunrians who’d found their soul mates were allowed to be cloned.”
“What happened to the people who didn’t have soul mates?” Sounded like they had a ready-made system to ensure only the elite of their society benefitted.
“They were not allowed to procreate naturally, but a significant number refused to comply.”
“I sense that did not end well for them.” The cloning might have been the Tunrians’ attempt at population control. If their civilization was older and more advanced, population control and resources must be a problem.
“One of the reasons we were created was to find the naturals and exterminate them,” Nebuchadnezzar said.
Aurora nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden sound of his voice. She’d been so focused on Balthazar, she’d almost forgotten about the others.
“How did you feel about that?” she asked Nebuchadnezzar, and next to her, Balthazar moved pointedly closer to her.
“Feel?”
She should’ve known better. She needed to change the subject. Aurora really didn’t want to talk about them exterminating people without feeling any emotion. “So then Bunrika told you your soul mates were on Earth?” She made sure none of the skepticism she felt could be heard in her voice. Not having souls was a subject that cut these cyborgs down to their steel enforced bones. “Did he say why your souls would be on a faraway planet?”
“When Turana scattered souls in the universe, some were caught up in a strong wind and blown to three planets in different universes.”
“Turana?”
“The deity the Tunrians worship.”
“Prophet,” Nebuchadnezzar corrected. “He was a prophet and not a deity.”
She barely heard his answer. Three planets? Did that mean that there were more planets out there that supported life?
Boots scraped over the deck as the cyborgs rose and marched out. Only she and Balthazar remained, but she barely registered this. She sincerely hoped this three-planets thing was only a myth. Cyborgs were more than enough to contend with. Still, most myths were grounded in truth. Somewhere out there might be another planet that supported life.
What else might be coming for them?
CHAPTER 10
“We will go to our cabin now, and you will show me your hooha,” he said
The cook, who’d been clearing away plates, stood without moving and stared at them. A few cyborgs on their way out froze in place.
“I told you never to say that in front of others.” He tilted his head. She swore he tried to compute the reason why she would insist on privacy on this. “Because if you ever do it again, there will be consequences.” She could see he didn’t like that, and she didn’t care. She tapped her fingers on the table. “Let me explain. If you talk about my hooha, sex, or anything that happens in our cabin in public again, I will never again touch you, kiss you, or even walk around you, let alone run for you.”
He stared at her. Weighing his options? She just knew he wanted to play commander but didn’t want to lose the chance of having sex with her. Every nerve end she had was frayed. This was it. It was really going to happen. Sex and betrayal. She’d thought that being sold by her own parents the most sordid thing she’d ever face.
The sooner she seduced him, the sooner she could get back to Earth and search for Ter. Afterward, she’d have to find a way to mend her broken heart. Because there was no way she’d be able to make love with him and then betray him and walk away without having nightmares about it for the rest of her life.
He nodded, pressed his lips together until grooves appeared at the edges of his mouth, helped her up, and rushed her to their cabin, his hand warm and possessive on her waist. The place they’d shared for weeks without ever touching each other. Was he still mad about the explosives? Did eating in the mess hall mean she’d served her sentence for bringing contraband on board? No way was she bringing that up and setting him off again.
She lowered her lashes, acted hesitant. “This would be our first night together. After you undress me, I should undress you and learn your body.”
“What would you learn?” he asked. He walked faster. She could barely keep up with his long strides.
“Where you like to be touched. If you like it more if I bite you or lick you,” she said, out of breath. Could she do it? Touch him like that?
He picked up the pace more.
They reached their cabin. He dragged her over to the bed and then stood staring at her. His heated eyes flickered between her lips and his hand she still held in hers. “You may proceed with the licking.” Obviously, he’d figured out what he’d like.
She brought his hand to her mouth and placed a kiss in his palm. Slowly--and she hoped, sensuously--she swept her tongue over her lips, kissed his palm again, and then swept her arms over his chest, looking for fastenings. “That is not licking,” he said pointedly.
Looking up at him, holding his fierce gaze, she licked the part of his chest bared by the top opened part of his jacket. She’d braced for a strange taste. Or for the simple act of licking him to be revolting. It wasn’t. The texture of his skin was different to hers, rougher.
“Again,” he commanded.
He drew her closer, his hand at the back of her neck. She obediently licked the rippling skin under her lips.
“Bite,” he said. He sounded hoarse, his breathing coming faster. She delicately took a muscle between her teeth and bit softly.
Balthazar made a strange noise, and she looked up, straight in his incredulous gaze.
“Bite, human.”
“Is this a cyborg thing? Because if you like to bite each other hard during sex, I can tell you now, there’s no way I’m biting you harder than this, and you cannot bite me. My skin isn’t tough enough.”
He gripped her hair in his fist and pulled her lips to his chest. “Bite.”
She’d been lucky to escape her enslavement before she could be raped. After that, she’d had two serious relationships that didn’t last long. None of that equipped her with the knowledge of how to be Mata Hari...whoever that was. The president should’ve sent someone better qualified to do this, someone with a bite fetish. She bit down gently and then licked the spot. She frowned up at him. She heard a rhythmic doof sound and couldn’t figure out where it came from. “What’s that sound?”
“It is my heartbeat, I am unable to regulate my heart rate and breathing at this time.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“I will now take off your clothes.”
“Hooha time,” she joked to give herself time to think. The thought of making love with him was not as abhorrent as she’d have found it a few week
s ago. “How do you unfasten your shirt?”
He always dressed in the bathroom and she’d never thought about how he did it.
Her heart bounced around so hard she expected it to jump out of her body any time now. He grabbed the bottom of his uniform shirt and pulled it over his head. It stretched and shrank back into shape when he threw it on the floor.
Aurora looked back at Balthazar and stared. He was magnificent. Muscles rippled over a well-developed torso and even his strange uneven skin with the moving tattoo didn’t detract from his masculine appeal.
“I will not hurt you,” he said, his manner almost awkward. “I have downloaded files on procreation to ensure that I give you pleasure.”
Aurora placed her fingers over his lips. “Why don’t we make our own manual?”
“Why?”
“We can explore each other and find out what pleases us. That way, we don’t do something that might have pleased some unknown Tunrian, but that makes us uncomfortable or doesn’t give us pleasure.”
“That is a logical way to proceed,” he said with approval.
She kissed his chest to hide her smile. He smelled good. Unlike any Earth object she could name. Spicy but not any kind that she’d smelled before. Delicious, addictive. “I like how you smell, Balthazar.”
“It is because I wash every day with decadent soap provided for the Tunrian who would have commanded this ship.”
She kept kissing his chest, desperately swallowing her giggles.
“Do you like the way I smell, Balthazar?” she asked when she could speak without laughing.
“You smell good, but you move better,” he said and lifted her, nuzzling his face in her chest. He sat her down on her feet before she could react.
“Are all the cyborgs as well built as you?” she asked and knew she’d said the wrong thing the moment the words left her lips.
