Mated with the Cyborg (12 page)

At least he didn’t have to worry about trying to play dead. His body lay still, his eyes unblinking. His peripheral vision took in Obido’s form.
Ugly bastard
. Give him one working hand and he’d— Nothing. He couldn’t move. Had no idea where his blaster had fallen, not that he could have wrapped his hand around the grip. Even his pinky finger ignored his commands.

Obido knelt over him. The general’s lack of handsomeness didn’t improve with proximity. He grabbed Kai’s chin and jerked his head left and right, squinting at his face. “You’re not the android I ordered. Technicians will take you apart, piece by piece. I will find out who disguised you as a Lamis-Odg bot.”

He stood up and addressed the soldiers. “I shall return to my personal craft. Collect the bodies; there may be parts we can still use. Don’t forget this one.”

* * * *

Mariska tromped over soggy ground, the garden barren and deserted. Trees lay toppled, benches and gazebos upended, others swept away. Sexual revelers had disappeared—those who had been able to flee had done so. The bodies of those who’d drowned lay in puddles of water, their sightless eyes staring at the sky.

Dead eyes. Like Kai’s. She hadn’t been able to bear looking at him for fear she would betray her despair. Even now, she was forced to maintain a stoic façade. Weeping might be reported to her father.

I might as well go to the Ka-Tȇ. What do I have to live for now that Kai is dead?

Justice. Vengeance burned through the numbness
.
Her worst fears had been realized when she’d emerged from the lavatory and saw his body. She could have killed her father on the spot, so powerful was the rage and grief.

She would avenge Kai’s death. After a lifetime of pretenses, of hiding her anger and resentment, her greatest weapon would be her perceived ignorance. No one would expect her to retaliate. She had another weapon, too: Kai’s blaster, clutched in her sweaty hand, hidden in the folds of her skirt. She’d faked a fall so she could grab it. When the right moment came, she would use it. Until then, she would play the dutiful, stupid, unsuspecting daughter.

She eyed the droid. Escort?
Captor
. No pleas, promises, or bribes would sway him. The bot couldn’t be anything but loyal to her father as his programming would not allow deviation. On the positive side, his programming did not allow deviation. He would not report that which he was not programmed to report.

If her father got his hands on the Panthera, it would be bad. Very bad.

“You wait here,” she ordered the droid when they arrived at the hangar.

“I must escort you to your ship,” he responded.

“Were you instructed to board the craft in the structure?”

“No.”

“Then you will wait here.”

His eyes flickered as his computer processed the information. “That is within the parameters of my orders. I will wait.”

She tugged the hangar door open wide enough to squeeze through then darted to an ancient star cruiser. Its battered hull appeared to have been through a meteor storm. She glanced over her shoulder. The droid was watching, its robotic eyes recording her actions. Whatever he saw, her father would be able to watch on vid.

She strolled around the port side to the forward entry. Out of sight. For this to work, the android would have to remain beyond viewing. He wouldn’t hunt for her on his own, but if her father transmitted different orders… She had to hurry. Heart pounding, she sneaked around the front of the cruiser and crept behind some equipment lockers.

Sprinting on tiptoe to muffle the sound, she raced to the far end of the building where the Panthera was docked. She’d sensed Dale’s interest from the moment they’d met, and although she did not return the feeling, she was grateful for his foresight and protection. Before she and Kai had departed Deceptio, Dale had pulled her aside and shown her a few things about the spacecraft.

“Just in case,” he had said.

Just in case
. Mariska dug her fingernails into her thigh to suppress the need to weep. She prayed to the Great One she would remember Dale’s instructions
. If only he’d taught me how to fly the thing.

* * * *

Kai’s skull thumped against cold metal when the soldier bot dumped his body atop the lab table. His eyes burned. Though gross motor control had not returned, small muscle movements had. If the droid peered close, he might notice Kai’s eyes had begun to water from the effort not to blink, which could be disastrous. Operational androids, let alone deactivated ones, did not produce tears.

The droid executed a jerky pivot, palm-scanned out, and left.

Kai blinked and wiggled his fingers and toes. Much improved. Not so good that he could do anything, though. Hundreds of needle pricks continued to sting his extremities and torso as his nanocytes repaired the damage. His brain buzzed, and the taste and smell of burnt wiring coated his mouth and nasal passages.

Being human had saved his ass.

The photon stream would have toasted an android. But it only temporarily disrupted his human nervous system. A failsafe had activated and shut down his microprocessor. Currently, it was running a self-diagnostic before rebooting. Some nanocytes had been destroyed, but many remained and had begun to repair the damage to his machine parts.

Cyborgs weren’t so easy to kill.

The second he was up to snuff, he would kick some ass! He’d start with Obido and work his way down the chain of command.

Residual pricks of fire blazed up his forearm into his shoulder. Kai clenched his hand into a weak fist. Getting better. He tested his neck and turned his head.

Robotic extremities, torsos, and faces were heaped into piles on the metal tables. A tray of eyes stared at the ceiling from a wheeled cart. Across the room, naked reassembled droids stood propped against the wall. Poor bastards. They weren’t anatomically correct. They did have the advantage of an Odgidian ridge though.

He’d peeled off and discarded his facial forms, believing he wouldn’t need them. Without a disguise, if—no
when
—he got out of here, he’d be recognized as an intruder. Blending with the population would be impossible since there weren’t any Terrans wandering around.

Except for one.

Mariska.

He had to save her. Her words of blame had shocked him, but he had analyzed everything. Immobilized, he could do nothing but think. Her odds of survival were better if Obido believed she had been abducted. At the first sign of resistance or compliance with her kidnapper, she would be executed.

The general was evil. He’d annihilated a planet of tourists on vacation. Innocents all. Mariska had led Obido’s men to the Panthera, where the connection to Dale could be linked, putting Deceptio and all its workers at risk.

But the situation wasn’t her fault. It was his. All his. Kai had somehow led Obido to Darius 4. How had the general found him? How had Carter? He’d disposed of the tracking device, and the Panthera didn’t have one.

Come on, legs, move!
His feet twitched, but his legs remained limp weights.

Ping!
Diagnostic completed, his cyborg brain rebooted. Lights and streams of code flashed across his field of vision. He attempted to open a channel to hail Carter, Brock, Dale, anybody, but could not. Systems were still inoperative.

He managed to lift his forearms and each foot a half dozen centimeters off the table.

As he wiggled in hopes of speeding the return of function, he eyed the entry scanner. Was it too optimistic to hope for an easy way out—by palming the screen? It would call far less attention than ripping off the door. The computer controlled entry and exits, limiting access privileges to those with clearance. Scanners read encoded DNA for organic creatures or serial numbers on bots.

Before the mission, a small chip had been embedded under his skin to fool the computer. Kai lifted his hand and rubbed a tiny lump on his chest. The microelectronic device was still there. Of course, it might have been fried by the blast, or his access might have been erased after they’d learned he’d killed the guards and hijacked the shuttle. But maybe not. Perhaps it still worked.

As soon as his legs cooperated, he was going to find out. He rubbed the slight bump. It was virtually undetectable, unless one knew what to look for. The subepidural had enabled him to “scan” and pass as an android—

Mother
.
Fucker
.

The chip
.

Its unique signature could be tracked. That’s how Carter and Obido had located him. He might as well have hung a homing device around his neck.

Mariska hurried around the corner and slammed into Vison.

“What were you doing in Janai’s quarters?” the first officer demanded.

Her fingers played with the edge of her scarf, checking its security, before she replied, “What makes you say that?”

“This is her area.”

Truth or lie? Which one would serve her and which one would lead farther into danger? “I went to see if she was there.”

“Why?”

She ducked her head. “I hoped she might show me how to use…cosmetics.”

They won’t do you any good.
His half pitying, half scornful thoughts were revealed on his face. “You would be advised to stick to the veil and not keep General Obido waiting any longer.”

“Waiting?”

“Your father has summoned you.”

The debriefing. Her stomach clenched. She’d heard of soldiers who did not survive her father’s interrogations or who emerged as empty shells of what they’d once been. “I shall report shortly.”

“You shall report now. This way.” He gestured, forcing her to accompany him. They strode in silence, Vison apparently having deemed she was not worthy of further conversation. Nothing had changed in her short absence, except the pity had turned to wariness. Before, only her father hadn’t trusted her. Now, no one did. She’d become more of a pariah.

Mariska rechecked her veil.
Stop that!
Nervous habits would be noted and questioned. She had to act unconcerned, guileless, and guiltless. If anyone caught sight of her face now, it would be all over.

They entered her father’s office. Legs curled, Janai sat at his feet while he stroked her hair. She glanced up, an odd, almost frightened expression in her eyes.

Fear for me?
More likely for herself
. While others had been far crueler in their taunts, Janai had never gone out of her way to befriend her. Not that she would be expected to. Kindness was a weakness to be tempered with aggression, so said the Great One.

Mariska knelt before the desk.

Lovingly, her father raked a fingernail down Janai’s scarred cheek before pushing back from his desk. She’d always envied Janai’s handsomeness, but, as she scrutinized her now, the thickened outline of her forehead made her face appear misshapen rather than comely. And the scars, considered marks of favor, no longer seemed to enhance her beauty, but to disfigure her further.

Her father planted himself in front of Mariska. “You took your time getting here. Stand up.”

She rose to her feet then pressed her trembling hands at her sides.
Do not touch the veil. Not the veil.
Beneath the concealing scarf, her face felt heavy, stiff.

Her father leaned in until his breath puffed against the fabric. “Do not make me wait again,” he said.

“No, Father. I apologize.” She stared straight ahead, focusing on the wall over Janai’s head.

He circled around her. His presence radiated danger and prickled the hair at her nape. He stepped in front of her again, and she released a silent sigh of relief.

His fist shot out. Her face exploded in a starburst of pain, and she fell. Her head smacked the floor. Hot tears burned her eyes, and, for a moment, she couldn’t move. When she could, she groped for the veil. Intact. Thank the Great One.

Boots, polished to a high shine, appeared in front of her face. “Get up,” her father ordered.

She stumbled to her feet, fearing he would kick her. She slipped a hand into the pocket of her skirt. Closed her fingers around the small object. Dale had promised, but—

“Tell me about the android.” His voice deadpanned.

Mariska worked her mouth. “What about him?”

The next blow knocked her sideways, and she slammed into his desk. Pain shot through her hip. She clung to the edge, groped beneath the rim. Was that a glint of sympathy in Janai’s eyes? No. The other woman ducked her head to examine her fingernails.

Don’t falter now. Do it.
She slipped a hand into her pocket. She glanced at her father.

He had his back turned. Vison watched the general. She stuck the object under the rim then pushed herself away from the desk.

Her father pivoted. “Tell me about the android,” he repeated. Beneath the calm tone, rage and hatred simmered. She braced for another blow. Would he beat her to death? He would have to. Though Kai was dead and could not be hurt, his body held secrets. She would not betray him, Dale, or the Deceptio workers. She wouldn’t tell her father anything.

He was a monster. An iwani.

“H-he…kept me tied up or locked in,” she fabricated. “I-I went to my cabin when I boarded. I didn’t know R981 had overpowered Q257 until after launch.”

“I find it odd that of all places in the galaxy, he would take you to a pleasure resort. Why is that?” No casual musing. Every question was booby-trapped to explode in her face—along with his fist. A guiltless person would have no answers, but more was at stake than convincing him of her innocence. She had to lead him away from the truth. “There were many androids on Darius 4. I got the impression he’d been assigned there and had returned to base.”

“Then why was he here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where else did you go?”

“Nowhere.”

Standing off to the side, Vison jerked, his body going rigid, his eyes widening.

“What is it?” her father said.

“General, a communiqué reports an incident on Darius 4. An explosion occurred in the shuttle hangar.”

Something had gone right. Now, if she could survive the interrogation…