Her Cyborg Awakes (Diaspora Worlds)

by Aires, Melisse

  The festivities began with a meal, followed by a series of performances, some from the Harem, and others from professional troupes and musicians hired for the occasion. Emperor Sirn sat in a shielded box overlooking the stage. Sabralia sat near the side aisle, where she could slip away, next to several older women, contract wives like herself. Only they had children by Sirn, and so they would retire to their quarters after the meal, safe from the officers. Other harem women were giggling and whispering, already flirting with the officers, who were dressed alike in their white and orange formal uniforms. The officers looked hard, like men who got what they wanted, no matter what. Sabralia shivered and tried to avoid any eye contact with them. Lucky for her, many of the harem women were working hard to be visible and noticed by the men. Sabralia slid down in her seat and watched the extravagant program.

  She slipped out to the retiring room before the program was over and used her com to call for Qy to come check her hair. While she waited for him she pulled on a section of her gown and caused a small tear. Now she had an excuse to go up to her rooms.

  Qy came to inspect her hair and makeup, which was fine. It was now or never. She took a steadying breath. “Qy, please take our beach equipment to the small cove at the beach I enjoy so much. I have met a gentleman who would enjoy an outdoor evening of relaxation. Provide all manner of refreshments and a comfortable pallet with blankets.”

  “Yes, Mistress.” Qy left to do his business.

  Heart in her throat, she slipped up a side stair to her rooms. She thought about changing out of her gown but had no way to explain the change if she was caught, so she just switched her shoes for beach sandals and slipped down the stairs from her balcony to the sand.

  The beach was unfamiliar in the dark, and she was jumpy, afraid she would run into someone. A man with a hard face and harsh, painful hands. But she found the cove without incident and sat on the still warm sand to wait for Qy.

  “Mistress, I am here.” Qy announced his presence. He pulled a small float with a large basket filled with wine, fruit drinks, and an array of delicate food stuffs in a cooler. He set up a large soft pallet with silken pillows near a small brazier, which danced with a flame. It was a lovely romantic setting, one she could imagine lovers sharing, which made her feel immeasurably sad.

  “Wonderful. My gentleman is coming along in a short while. He wished to be near the sea, in fresh air. Keep our location a secret, also. We wish to have our privacy. You may return after your nightly maintenance.” She helped herself to a fruit drink, then wrapped herself in a blanket and rested on the cushioned pallet.

  “Yes, Mistress.” Qy left, taking the cart with him, and she knew he would obey her words. And if she needed him she could summon him via her com. There was nothing to do except stay alert in case someone came down the beach. Sabralia turned down the brazier flame until it was as small as a candle. It was dark, and the only sounds were night birds and the sound of the sea. She helped herself to the food and drink, and even emptied a bottle of wine into the sea after pouring it into two glasses, which she also poured out. It would look like her companion had come, had food and drink, if Qy was questioned. Eventually she leaned back against the cushions and dozed. She awoke when Qy returned.

  “I will be sleeping here tonight, Qy. My gentleman spoke of returning here at a later time.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She insisted he get under the covers with her. She didn’t think cyborgs felt cold, but she felt safer with him beside her. “Wake me if anyone comes, please.”

  It was a long night, but quiet. No revelers came down the beach.

  Qy was with her when she woke in the morning. She lied, in case the cyborgs were reporting their ladies’ activities. “While you were at maintenance, my gentleman visited me. He was quite pleased with our comfortable situation, and would like me to remain here, awaiting his visits. Can you bring more refreshments and drinks?”

  Qy questioned nothing, and did her bidding. That afternoon, Sabralia paddled for a short time in the sea, then dressed in one of the other sheer gowns designed for the festivities. Qy did not join her in the water. His appliances and muscular physique made him sink like a stone, and he did need oxygen for his flesh parts. She wished she had different clothing, but if she were to be caught, at least her gown fit with her outdoor lover story. Qy fixed her hair, but after he left she put the jewels away in an embroidered pocket that held her cosmetics, and did her hair into a simple braid. She would have to account for the jewelry later.

  “What is happening in the palace, Qy?” she asked later.

  “The kitchen is very busy supplying food and drink. Medical has also been busy since so many have used too many intoxicants. Some of the harem and a few of the officers had minor injuries in fights.”

  “Are my rooms all right?” The distasteful thought of strange couples using her rooms for dalliance suddenly occurred to her.

  “Yes, Mistress. I locked your rooms.”

  “Good. But it does sound like the officers are having a fine time.”

  “Yes, Mistress, a fine time,” Qy echoed.

  Qy rested with her on the blankets that night until it was time for his maintenance. Sabralia figured she would again tell him the soldier visited her while he was gone, since a cyborg would not be suspicious, but Qy came back not long after leaving.

  “Qy, why aren’t you at maintenance?” Had Alfyt sent him for her? Her heart leaped to an uncomfortable speed.

  “The doors were locked, Mistress. I could not get into the maintenance room. I went into the main hallway, to take a different door, but there was much confusion.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Would you like to hear the recording?”

  “Yes.”

  Qy pressed his leg implant. Weapon blasts, shouting, and screaming filled the night. The sounds of violence. Dread clutched at her gut and suddenly the balmy breeze felt cold.

  “It did not look safe, Mistress.”

  “Yes… I’m sure you are right.” Her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy.

  There is some type of ambush in the palace!

  “I think we should move our bedding deeper into the woods, in case the unrest comes closer,” she said. She wanted to hide, to be safe.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  They moved up the steep hillside into the woods, where the canopy of the trees blocked the light of the stars, and found a small clearing. It was frightening in the dark. Qy brought the brazier and the food and drink basket after leaving her briefly. She dozed fitfully in his arms, too scared of soldiers to turn on the brazier.

  In the morning, Qy returned to the palace. Sabralia waited nervously from a spot in the trees where she could watch the beach. He returned some time later with food stuffs.

  “Have things calmed down there?” she asked.

  “They are not running on schedule,” he replied. “The kitchen was empty, and none of the cyborgs were cooking. I gathered breakfast and luncheon for you, Mistress. I did not go into the main rooms, just like you instructed. The maintenance room was still locked.”

  She did not know what to think. “Very good, Qy.”

  Sabralia spent a nervous day in the woods, not daring to go down to the beach for a swim. Qy sat on a small rise some distance away, watching the beach and distant palace. A few ships blasted into orbit from the spaceport on the far side of the forest, the roar filling the woods and making her heart thunder. What is happening?

  Towards evening they saw smoke rising, either on the far side of the palace or one of the outbuildings just beyond.

  “Should I investigate?” Qy asked. “Alfyt has not summoned me for duty all day.”

  “No, Qy, it looks like more unrest. Alfyt must have other duties in an emergency. I think you should remain with me. Perhaps my soldier will come and tell us what is happening.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  The sun went down. The smell of smoke was stronger for awhile, until the cool evening breeze
from the sea pushed the smoke farther away. Sabralia wondered what was happening to the women—were they safe? Were they dead? None had come along the beach. Exhausted, she finally slept, wrapped in the blankets and her cyborg’s arms.

  ***

  Kaistril dreamed. A woman was in his arms…his Mistress Sabralia, with her dark hair, dark blue eyes, and white soft skin. His cock roared into hardness. He tightened his arms around the woman, pulling her closer…she was so sweet, smelling of flowers, her soft bottom cradled his straining member…

  Something is wrong. His eyes snapped open in a starless night and he sat up so fast he swayed, dizzy. They were on a cushioned pallet in thick woods. A body was pressed tight against him and he knew it was his Mistress Sabralia. They were hiding from…unrest.

  Something is wrong.

  My name is Kaistril.

  No! I am Qy, in service to my mistress.

  He couldn’t remember…but Kaistril seemed right.

  He shook his head to try and clear his confusion. The air reeked of smoke. The fire, soldiers, danger, weapons… His head ached, as did his stomach. He was thirsty. He reached into Sabralia’s food basket and got a fruit drink, which helped a little, but his mind was still clouded.

  They were in the woods…a fire at the palace…

  Something is wrong.

  Breathe deeply, calm yourself, a voice he recognized as being from his past told him. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his mouth and out through his nose, concentrating.

  There was a sound. It was important. He listened.

  Far away, so far away, he could only feel the vibrations through the earth—death! He slid off the pillows onto the forest floor and placed his palms on the ground—

  —The Strafe, attacking his Tier, the entire contingent in their observation units, dying. Burning, blinding white flashes, men falling dead in an instant, dead bodies everywhere…

  He knew it well. It had killed his men. The Strafe was coming!

  “Wake. Wake.” He hauled the sleeping woman into his arms. “We need to get down to the beach, to one of the caves!”

  A timer went off in his brain, the timer he was to obey, for his nightly maintenance. He groaned with confusion .

  No—the caves! He threw the queen over his shoulder with her blankets over her, and loped toward the beach, ignoring her protests and squirms. She was round and soft, not strong, not a warrior woman, and he was able to subdue her struggles easily without harming her. In the far distance the Strafe slashed through the air, lighting the way with its killing white light, and the woman screamed in shock, her whole body going tight.

  “Underground. The Strafe,” he grunted. She probably had no idea what the Strafe was. But he knew. He remembered. Fierce triumph filled him. He remembered, and they would not kill this warrior, or his queen.

  “What’s wrong?” she cried.

  The soft voice of his mistress sent a shiver down his spine. His body was still hard, clamoring for her touch, despite the raging light. The danger, the excitement flooding his body, his memories, the woman in his arms. He paused for a moment, suddenly overwhelmed with confusion.

  The Strafe moved closer so its individual tines of killing light were visible.

  “We need to get to one of the tidal caves. The Strafe will kill us.”

  “The Strafe.” Comprehension colored her words. He sat her down, pulled the blanket from her face, then grabbed her hand, and they raced down the beach.

  Kaistril found the section of beach with shallow caves. They’d explored them before, collecting shells. Once inside, he shoved her against the back wall of the cave and covered her body with his own.

  “The Strafe doesn’t go through soil. We might live if we…” His words trailed off. She was staring at him, mouth agape, eyes huge and dark in the night.

  “You are different.” His mistress sounded faint.

  “Yes. There is no time. Close your eyes,” he said. “The light can damage your vision.” He pulled the blanket over them, holding it cupped to her eyes with one hand while he did the Kaistril listened carefully but could hear nothing now except their breathing, heavy with fear. The Strafe was concentrating on populated areas, though it would eventually sweep outlying areas for strays.

  Bright, deadly tines stroked the beach and suddenly clashed around them, lighting even their closed, blanket-covered eyes. They sank to the ground as the light sizzled just a few feet from them, close enough they could feel its strange heat. It disappeared, though they could still hear it.

  Kaistril ran out of their shelter. The Strafe had returned to the Palace area. “Come on. It has gone straight back to the city. This is our chance!”

  He grabbed her by the hand and ran up the beach, dragging her along.

  “Qy, where are we going?” she wailed.

  He paused for a split second, then continued pulling her along.

  “Staying alive is the plan,” was all he said. No need to tell her it’s a gamble. Soon the Harvesters will be here to kill those that remain alive…

  Her breath was ragged and her legs refused to pull her any further along the beach. Kaistril threw her over his shoulder with a grunt. She was no warrior.

  “Almost there, I think.” He cut through the woods, and was soon parallel to the fence surrounding Sirn’s spaceport. Eventually they came through the woods to a paved road and an open gate with guard towers. There were no guards.

  Kaistril set her on her feet but again grabbed her hand.

  “We want to find the smaller spacecrafts,” he said as they passed Sirn’s mid-grade war ships that most of the officer’s arrived in. Sirn’s largest ships did not make landing, of course, but stayed in space.

  Chapter Three

  There were bodies lying around. Sabralia moaned and averted her eyes, but Qy seemed quite interested and looked at them carefully.

  “Strafe kills,” he said.

  Farther on they saw a body in gaudy civilian clothes, not a uniform.

  Qy dropped her hand and ran to it. “Yes.” Fierce triumph colored the word. “This is perfect.” A hard smile, an expression she’d never seen before on Qy, flashed over his face. He dug through the clothing and yanked the bright red and blue jacket off the deceased.

  “That’s Alfyt!” She suddenly recognized the head of the Harem and of the cyborgs.

  “Yes. Could it be more perfect?” Qy tossed the jacket over her shoulders and she squealed.

  “He died of the Strafe, not some disease, and just moments ago. And you need to cover up. That transparent dress is distracting.”

  She gaped at him. Distracting? He’d seen her naked hundreds of times.

  Qy turned away, pulled off Alfyt’s arm com and inspected it. Then he grabbed Alfyt’s bags, and headed toward a spaceship that was just a few yards away.

  “Come on!” He yelled at her impatiently while she just stared at him. “Alfyt has the access code!”

  What had happened to Qy? Could he have his memories back, of the man he once was? Was that even possible? Was this some type of survival programming at work? Sabralia didn’t know what to think or do. But she didn’t want to stay here, alone. She ran after him. They climbed up the service ladder to a small door. Qy beamed the code to the ship and the door popped open. The ship was luxurious and Sabralia gaped at it while Qy rummaged in a locker.

  Qy shoved a garment and helmet at her. “Get this on and strap in. Make sure the tube is at your lips.”

  She nodded. She’d used a spacer suit once before, when she left her homeworld to join the harem. She pulled on the vacuum safe suit and sat next to him at the control console. He started the ship and then toddled it around the space landing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Finding the fuel station. We’re low.”

  He found it, and got out to fuel up. “See if there is food. Hopefully it is stocked and we won’t have to make another stop.”

  While golden sludge slid down clear tubes to the fuel hold, she found a p
antry and kitchen area. It was full of food, including many luxurious things. This ship must belong to someone important. Maybe even Sirn, himself. The furnishings were lovely—there was a white and peach bathing area and a sleep area with a large, beautifully covered bed.

  “There’s lots of food,” she told him when he climbed back inside.

  “Good. Grab me something to eat and a drink. Kaf, if they have it. It helps me concentrate. You might want to wait to eat, though, until we are off-world, in case your stomach reacts to take off. We have a little time, the sensors show the Strafe is miles away.”

  Sabralia found filled pocket breads, which were in self-heating wraps, and several drinks. She watched in amazement as Qy devoured the sandwiches and gulped down three drinks. She did not feel the least bit hungry. Her stomach was tight with nerves.

  “I didn’t know cyborgs could eat,” she said, feeling faint. What was happening to Qy? His facial expression was different. More animated, somehow, with expressions she’d never seen on his perfect features. While he ate he turned on various ship systems and scanners.

  He looked at her for a moment, then shook his head. “We’ll have time to talk after we get away.” He flipped down her mask and slid the connection, sealing her in, then did the same for himself.

  “Let’s see what she’s got.” He closed the hull view panels, blasted the engines, and they shot into the atmosphere.

  Sabralia saw the Strafe on his scanview, coming down from somewhere higher above them. She knew it was a space-based weapon. Qy elevated the ship and headed straight for it.

  “What are you doing?” she yelped.

  “Trust me. This is how we get off-world undetected.”

  “How we get off-world undetected?” Panic rose and so did her voice.

  “I know a way. Risky, but workable.”

  “How risky?”

  “Considering our chances of staying alive here are about zero percent, I think we don’t have many options. Now hush. I need to concentrate.”

  “Oh no,” she moaned as he positioned the ship parallel to the Strafe. She could hear the deadly thrum and throb of the energy beam.