by Cynthia Sax
“It won’t be you.” He tightened his grip on her.
“It can’t be me.” Her concern wasn’t for her own lifespan. “If I die, I won’t meet quota. If I don’t meet quota, the Humanoid Alliance will torture and kill my mom, my sister, my brother. They’ll inflict the most pain possible before they do that.” Because they were cruel bastards.
“If you continue to capture rebels for the Humanoid Alliance, you will die.” Mayhem was blunt.
And truthful. She would die. She’d thought if she were careful, if Kralj vetted her targets, if she adhered to the rules, trained, planned, she would be safe.
Mayhem had shown her that wasn’t true. Kralj had vetted him yet the male behind her could easily kill her, could end her life in a heartbeat.
There were targets like Kralj, like Mayhem, with powers and skills she could never match. It wasn’t a matter of if she’d die but when.
“All I’m giving my family is time.” She exhaled raggedly. “I’m not trading my targets’ lives for their lives. I’m trading lives for planet rotations.”
“You did what you deemed necessary.”
“I did horrible things.” Memories ravaged Imee, of young kids begging her for mercy, to be set free, to return to their parents, of the lifeless baby still pressed against her dead mother’s chest, of an elderly, white-haired female who had looked at her with such disappointment, as though she’d broken the female’s heart by retrieving her. “All I earned my family was moments.”
“Those moments give us an opportunity to save them, my female.” Mayhem kissed the top of her head. “You’re the best Retriever in the galaxy. Your final targets will be your family. We’ll retrieve them, take them to a planet where they’ll be safe.”
“It’s too risky. If I fail, they’ll die.” She’d be responsible for their deaths also.
“We won’t fail.”
There shouldn’t be any ‘we.’ The Humanoid Alliance would reward her generously for retrieving one of their cyborg warriors. She might earn the right to see her family, giving her the perfect opportunity to rescue them.
Her mom, sister, brother would be safe but she’d be dead inside. Losing Mayhem would rip her heart out.
Could she do that? She’d sacrificed everything else for her family. To give up all hope of future happiness shouldn’t be that difficult.
“How would you rescue them?” She gazed at him, willing him to give her a viable alternative.
“I require more inputs before determining that plan.” He placed the footage of her mom on the main viewscreen. Her face was paused in time, had a few more wrinkles than the image displayed on the wall.
The footage had been recorded in the interior of her family’s chambers. Objects were neatly arranged on horizontal supports behind her. Her sister’s attempt at fabricating a container, a lopsided visual mess, was prominent. Her brother’s seedlings, fragile and new, were set under special growing lights. Her mom’s collection of green stones, one for every solar cycle Imee had been parted from them, lined the horizontal surfaces.
They remembered her as she remembered them.
“I will be the envy of my brethren.” Mayhem’s lips curved. “I have found my female. She’s the strongest and most beautiful of all the females.” He pulled her closer to him. “And she has a family, a mother with lines upon her face.”
“That’s a good thing?”
“Cyborgs and their females don’t age.” He brushed a strand of her hair away from her scarred cheek. “They also don’t scar.” He followed the jagged white mark with his laughing lips. “You’re rare, special.”
How can she deliver him to his death after he’d called her special, strong, beautiful? “Play the footage.” Her voice was gruff.
“Hi, small bits.” That was her mom’s unique name for her. “I don’t know how long I can talk to you.” Her gaze moved to the right and she nodded. “But I wanted you to know I miss you. Jae and Geo miss you too. They’re getting so big. You might not recognize them.”
“I would,” she whispered. They were a part of her.
“Jae is training to be a medic. She cares for the others here.” Her mom’s eyes shone with a pride Imee shared. Her sister was such a good, kind, giving being, worthy of being saved, being protected. “Geo wants to be an agri lot worker.” She swallowed hard. “He’s like your dad in that way.” Emotion weighted her words. Her mom missed her mate, Imee’s dad, even more than Imee did. “They say if…if things go well, they’ll give Geo more containers of plants.”
If things go well…if Imee continued to make quota.
The feed scrambled for a moment and then stabilized.
“Already?” her mom asked the being to the right. “Give me a few more moments. I haven’t spoken to her for solar cycles.” The answer must have been ‘no’ because she made a distressed sound. “I love you, Imee.” Her mom reached out.
Imee did the same. She knew her mom couldn’t see her, that the footage was almost a solar cycle old, that Mayhem was watching her, but she couldn’t stop herself.
“And I’m proud of you. Your dad would have been--”
The footage stopped. The screen went black.
Imee gulped air, trying to control her emotions. She missed her mom so blasted much, the loneliness clawing at her heart.
Mayhem pressed her cheek against his body armor and stroked her hair, silently soothing her. She took his comfort, drawing on his strength and savoring his touch, his warmth, the solidness of his big form.
Moments passed.
“I have to keep them safe, Mayhem.” She willed him to understand. “Whatever that requires, I’ll do it. I’m all they have and they’re counting on me.”
“We’re all they have,” he corrected. “If your family lives, we’ll rescue them, my female.”
“My family lives.” She frowned. How could he question that? “They’re the Humanoid Alliance’s only leverage over me. They won’t be harmed, not as long as I make quota.”
Mayhem said nothing.
Her concern increased. He’d been manufactured by the Humanoid Alliance, knew them better than she did. “That footage is less than a solar cycle old. You saw my mom.”
“Images can be fabricated, my female.” His voice was soft.
“That’s my mom, Mayhem. She’s older but, other than that, she’s exactly how I remembered her.” How Imee saw her in her dreams.
“You were an offspring when you last saw her, not fully developed. The Humanoid Alliance has been feeding you images, messages. That would alter your memories.”
“But she’s my mom.” She’d recognize her own mom, wouldn’t she? Blast it. Now, he had her doubting herself and she couldn’t, because if her mom wasn’t alive, if she’d done all of those horrible things for nothing…no, her mom had to be alive. “My family is alive. I would be able to tell if they weren’t.”
Mayhem didn’t offer her any words of reassurance.
“Do you know they’re not alive?” she pressed.
“No,” he admitted.
Imee exhaled, her shoulders lowering with relief. He was a cyborg. He couldn’t lie. “My family is alive and we’ll rescue them.”
Chapter Nine
Imee’s mom might be alive. Mayhem had no proof she wasn’t.
But the being in the footage they watched had been fabricated.
The image designer was good, good enough to fool a tender-hearted human female who yearned to believe her loved ones were safe.
Mayhem wasn’t human or tender-hearted. He noticed the errors.
They were small. The fabricated female blinked less often than a normal human female would. When she turned her head toward a light source, her pupils didn’t always contract. The flaring of her nostrils was slightly out of sync with her breathing. There were other tiny mistakes.
One inconsistency might be explained. The eleven inconsistencies he’d spotted couldn’t be abnormalities.
He reviewed the data around the footage. “It was sen
t from a station positioned far from the coordinates you inputted.”
“The retrieval battle station is in the midst of the fighting.” Imee slipped off his lap, returning to her own chair. He immediately missed the connection between them. “The Humanoid Alliance wouldn’t endanger our family members.”
“It’s an administrative station.” The Humanoid Alliance wouldn’t assign clerks to guard captives.
“That designation ensures the rebels won’t target it.” She recited that answer as though it had been relayed to her by the Humanoid Alliance. “It’s much more than that. There are guards, levels of security.”
Mayhem hacked into the administrative station’s system. The virtual walls around the system were high but he was a cyborg, half machine, able to access it.
“Those guards are older.” He looked into the backgrounds of the top officials.
They were all former warriors. The Commander of the station had been an integral part of two invasions, had engineered the deaths of thousands of rebels.
“But they have extensive experience in battle,” he conceded. And they were well versed in cruelty. That seemed to be a requirement for placement on the station. It was a reward for enforcing the Humanoid Alliance’s brutal policies.
“They’re keeping our families safe.” Imee nodded.
Mayhem displayed the schematics of the administrative station on the main viewscreen. There was a huge undesignated chamber in the center, multiple levels of security needed to enter it.
“That’s where they’re keeping them,” his female confirmed.
The space wasn’t large enough to contain all of the families. According to the records, there were thousands of Retrievers. But it could hold Imee’s family.
“A code is needed to land a ship on the station.” She made a face.
Mayhem searched his databases. Crash’s female, Safyre, had delivered items for the Humanoid Alliance in the past. She had shared access information with the E model. He’d relayed it to all of their brethren. “They only change that code every solar cycle.”
That didn’t denote a high security station.
Her frown deepened. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“I can’t run a remote lifeform scan.” That irked him. The station was so old; it didn’t have that capability.
“That’s not worth the risk.” Her forehead furrowed with worry lines. “I’m not the first Retriever to try to free my loved ones. If the Humanoid Alliance knows we’re making an attempt, they’ll send warriors after us.”
Had they sent his cyborg brethren after Imee’s fellow Retrievers, forced them to kill the precious females? “They’ll know if you make an attempt. You’re fitted with a tracking device.” He stood, extracting his makeshift energy tubes. “We have to remove it.”
“That’s too risky also.” She shook her head. “They’ll detect that and--”
“They won’t detect it.” Mayhem had scanned her. Her tracking device was even older than his had been. The Humanoid Alliance couldn’t determine if it were removed. They could only pinpoint its location. “We’ll send a capsule containing your tracking device to the retrieval battle station. They’ll believe you’re transporting a target.”
“Giving us time if our rescue attempt isn’t successful.” Her eyes gleamed with respect.
Mayhem stood straighter. “It will be successful, my female.” He grinned at her, his merriment feigned. “Do you have pain inhibitors?” He didn’t want to hurt his female.
“I store them in my chamber.” She reluctantly got to her feet. “The ship--”
“Remains on course to the retrieval battle station.” He’d change its direction after he removed the tracking device. “I’ll be notified if anyone or anything approaches us.”
He was now connected to her ship’s systems.
“The tracking device is in my wrist, by one of my main veins.” Imee’s slow pace communicated her lack of enthusiasm for the operation.
“I know where it is, my female.” He grasped her hand. Her palm was calloused, the hand of a warrior. “I removed both of mine.” He hadn’t had pain inhibitors during his operation. “Menace removed the tracking device attached to my spine.”
Her exhale was ragged. “They put tracking devices in both of your wrists?”
He shrugged. “If we lost a hand in battle, they could still track us.”
The Humanoid Alliance decommissioned damaged cyborg warriors, killing them in the most painful way possible. A one-handed cyborg held no value, except as a source of parts.
Imee spread her fingers, linking them with his. “They must have assumed we would die.”
That was a valid assumption. Unless the area was cauterized immediately, minimizing blood loss, very few of her kind would survive such a wound.
“Your damage from the removal will be minor, my female.” He reassured both Imee and himself. “The incision will be small. I won’t damage your veins. And you have my nanocybotics. You’ll repair quickly.”
They entered her chamber. The space, like the bridge, had its walls covered with images of her mom, sister, brother, visual reminders of the beings she loved.
Had those images been fabricated also?
His female retrieved a large bloodstained medic pack. He breathed deeply. The blood was hers, a remnant of past danger. He’d protect her in the future.
“What do you need?” She opened the pack.
“Pain inhibitors, an injector gun, a laser scalpel, grippers, a cleaning cloth and medic tape.” That was what Rage, the first cyborg to locate his human female, had used on his Joan. The couple now had two offspring.
Mayhem took the supplies from Imee. He looked forward to having offspring with her, visualized newly manufactured cyborgs with her beautiful eyes, black hair, courage, and loyalty.
She sat on the edge of the sleeping support and held out her right wrist. “This is my good arm. If you injure it, I’ll be useless to you.” Her laugh was nervous.
His always-serious female had made a joke. Mayhem grinned. “You could lose both of your arms and I’d still consider myself the most fortunate of warriors.” He rubbed the cleaning cloth over her golden skin, sanitizing the spot. “But I won’t damage you permanently.” He loaded the injector gun with a tube of pain inhibitor and applied it to her wrist.
She jerked.
“Did that damage you?” He frowned. It shouldn’t have.
“No.” Pink pigment flowed up her neck. “It surprised me. That’s all.”
Mayhem swirled his thumbs into her skin. “Tell me when you no longer feel my touch.”
“I’ll feel your touch until the planet rotation my lifespan ends.” Her voice was soft. “That’s why I’m choosing to save my family this way.”
“What are your other choices?” What plans had his resourceful female crafted?
“The area is numb.” She didn’t answer his question.
Mayhem gazed down at her wrist, so tiny, so fragile, so easily damaged. He had to cut into his female. His fingers shook. His stomach heaved.
His organic side was unable to complete the task. He allowed his machine side to take over the process, disconnecting from his emotional system.
“Look at me, my female.” He didn’t want her to see her wound. That damaged even the strongest of warriors.
She gazed up at him. “I’m trusting you, Mayhem.”
That was a gift. His little female didn’t trust easily. He would cherish her faith in him, keep her safe.
Mayhem made a tiny incision in her wrist with the laser scalpel and switched that medical device for the grippers. Blood oozed from the cut as he located the tracking device.
His humanlike brain felt lightheaded. His machine operated without hesitation. Never had he been more grateful to have been manufactured a cyborg.
Mayhem removed the device, set it to the side, bent his head and licked her wound. The metallic taste of blood coated his tongue.
She threaded her fingers throu
gh his hair and massaged his scalp with her left hand. He laved her right wrist once, twice, three, four times more, bathing her in his healing nanocybotics.
The flow of blood stopped. Skin, a shade lighter than the rest, fragile and new, pulled the edges of the cut together. Mayhem pressed his lips against the heel of her hand, skimmed his thumbs along her forearm, above the damage.
“I’m still alive.” Imee wiggled her fingers, tapping her fingertips against his jaw. “My hand works.”
“And the pain?”
“There’s none.” She reclined on the sleeping support.
Mayhem wanted to protect her from every kind of damage, including the emotional damage she’d feel if her family were no longer alive. He slid his body over hers, bracing himself upward with his arms.
“Cyborgs have only one purpose, according to the Humanoid Alliance. We’re weapons of war.” Normally he’d insert a joke there, lightening the mood, employing his defensive mechanism of choice against the darkness. He suppressed that urge. His Imee needed a glimpse of his damage, a warning of how the Humanoid Alliance operated. “If we survive the grueling training program, we’re sent into battle.”
“You survived the training.” Her eyes shone with pride.
“I did.” Others didn’t. He’d lost many good friends that solar cycle. “During one battle, we surrounded a walled settlement similar to the Refuge.”
The land outside those walls had been green and lush with vegetation. Rivers flowed. Crops grew. Animals foraged for nutrition.
“The rebels didn’t have a being like Kralj safeguarding them and they weren’t as strong or as skilled as you are.” He kissed the tip of her nose and she blinked, her eyelashes fluttering. “They were agri lot workers, humanoids with no knowledge of warfare.”
“They were no match for cyborg warriors.”
“They realized that yet they resisted, defending their settlement with every resource they had.” Mayhem admired that bravery. “To scale the walls would have taken time and might have resulted in causalities.” The Humanoid Alliance had been concerned about the human and humanoid warriors in their forces. They hadn’t cared about cyborg losses. “The Humanoid Alliance offered the rebels a deal—if their warriors surrendered, their females, offspring, elderly would be spared.”
