Mated with the Cyborg (2 page)

“You are familiar with the Ka-Tȇ?” He mimicked an android’s digital voice.

“No, but I will find out soon enough.”

“I cannot accompany you.” Nothing about this mission had turned out as expected. “Perhaps you should not go,” he said, and winced. Androids didn’t seek to influence.

Mariska picked up on his slip right away. She halted and stared at him.

“Not without me. I am programmed to protect you.” He attempted to cover his error.

“You’re here to report to my father.”

“I am assigned to you.”

“By my father.”

“And you do not like that.”

She started walking again. “It is what it is.”

He had a lot of questions for her, but he needed to contact Cy-Ops Director Carter Aymes ASAP and update him about the change in circumstances. His orders had been to use Mariska to get close to Obido. If she wasn’t here—then what? They entered the section reserved for Obido’s mates and his daughters, of which only Mariska remained since the others had been mated. Kai deposited her outside the door of her personal quarters.

After she scanned in, she faced him. “You don’t need to come inside. I would like to be alone.”

“I must conduct a security check.”

“My quarters are safe.”

From outside intruders—yes. The odds were 96 percent she was right. Security was so tight, it was highly unlikely anyone who didn’t belong could get aboard. He had—but only by being shipped “from the factory” in a manufacturing carton. The transport wouldn’t have bothered an android, but Kai had nearly frozen his nuts off in the cargo hold. If not for his nanocytes, which had regulated his body temp, he might have succumbed to hypothermia.

Still, it proved Obido’s defenses weren’t 100 percent impenetrable.

After what he’d witnessed, her own people posed the greatest threat to her life. Her father wanted her dead. Why? “I must perform my duty. I must search your quarters,” he said in his affected android voice.

She sighed. “All right, but be quick.”

Tapestries of landscapes draped the walls of her sitting room. If the scenes accurately represented the planet—and the information in his database indicated they did—Lamis-Odg was arid. Desert-like, with rolling sand dunes sweeping across a barren planet, broken by the occasional scrubby tree.

Four low, armless couches took up most of the space in her parlor area, but in the five weeks he had been her attendant, no one had visited. Except for meals with female family members, she remained alone.

He activated his internal electronic bug detector and swept the room for new spy devices. The only one he found was the old one, embedded in the 3D emblem of the Lamis-Odg seal positioned on a corner table. He swiveled his head as if conducting a visual inspection. “All clear,” he announced loudly to ensure the audio would pick up his voice.

He proceeded to her sleeping quarters. A low divan covered in fabrics served as her bed. More tapestries adorned the walls, these of some carnivorous-appearing flowers his computer database identified as native flora. Centered in one menacing blossom was a microdot camera. He checked the bathing facility, a ChemShower and liquid-producing basin combo. She’d been granted a modicum of privacy there—he’d previously noted only an audio transmitter.

His internal scanner had detected the bugs the first time he’d entered her quarters, but removing the spy devices would have signaled awareness of them. So all he could do was watch his words. Ironically, common areas afforded the best opportunity for open conversation, except Mariska rarely ventured out in public.

“Clear,” he pronounced her sleeping and bathing chambers.

“As I would expect,” she said. “I doubt anyone could sneak onto the space station undetected, and, if anyone did, it is doubtful he would hide in my quarters.”

“I am performing my duty.” At least giving the appearance of doing so.

“Are you satisfied that I’m safe now?”

Less than ever. “Yes.”

“Then please leave me. I wish to be alone.”

After the android spy left, Mariska locked herself in the bathing chamber, the only room of her quarters where she was unobserved, although not unheard as the room contained an audio transmitter. C684 had detected and destroyed the observation devices. Shortly thereafter, he’d been removed from service and dismantled. The next day, the bugs were back in place. When R981 arrived and failed to detect the transmitters, she’d known he’d been programmed to serve her father.

Why didn’t her sire trust her? She’d always been obedient and circumspect, her behavior never giving cause to doubt her loyalty.

It wasn’t fair! She had had no control over the circumstances of her birth. She couldn’t help the lack of an Odgidian ridge made her an abomination—or that the Great One had spared her by marking her shoulder, warning He would smite any who would slay her.

It probably would have been better if she had expired at birth than to live the full span of her years as a pariah. Her bouts of anger at being ostracized caused a deep well of guilt. She should be grateful for the gift of life, not angry at those who righteously wished not to be reminded of her ugly presence.

She sank onto the stool, and, with her back to the reflection glass, unclipped her veil and buried her face in her hands.

I’m going to be mated
.

The prospect gladdened and terrified her in equal measure. It lifted her heart because it had to mean her father had softened toward her. He must have searched long and hard and paid a hefty dowry to find a male who would accept her.

No Lamis-Odg would.

Better a mate of a different species than no mate at all. And perhaps they would share affection and companionship in addition to physical relations.

Was Zog aware of her imperfection? Surely her father would have informed him. Maybe because he was an alien, he could overlook her appearance. She knew little of alien races
,
having received only a smattering of tutoring on the subject of other world creatures. Most of her education—which her siblings and their mothers had considered a waste—had centered on how to please and pleasure a mate.

I’ll finally have the opportunity to use my education.
And to serve my planet.
If becoming a concubine could assist in establishing an outpost, that was important, wasn’t it? Even her sisters, who had been mated with influential males, couldn’t boast of such an achievement. Only her young brothers might achieve greater recognition. They were still in tutoring, but when they reached maturity, they would enter the military and defend their people and homeland.

Though she hadn’t lived on Lamis-Odg since early childhood, she remembered the planet as a place of harsh beauty. The tapestries adorning her quarters did not do it justice. Its landscape was ever-changing. Mountains of sand undulated over vast areas then formed new patterns when unpredictable turbulent winds whipped the individual grains into stinging missiles. The planet had a short growing season during which a profusion of vegetation erupted overnight, including the
hala
, beautiful, but lethal flowers. A rendition of those decorated the walls of her bedchamber.

After she left for Katnia, would she ever see Lamis-Odg again? Or the space station where she’d spent the past twenty years of her life?

She spun around on the stool and flinched at her image, revealed without kindness or tact by the reflection glass and the harsh light. Her face was so blank, it appeared inchoate, like the Great One hadn’t finished with her yet. Its shape was more oval than broad through the forehead and temple, as was characteristic of Lamis-Odg people. Thankfully, her eyes, lashed by cilia the same hue as her brown hair, were normal. She’d often thought the contrast between her abnormality and the averageness of her other features heightened her disfigurement.

How will the Ka-Tȇ react when they see me?
Until her father had ordered her to remove the veil, no one had gazed upon her face in years. If Janai’s horror hadn’t been enough to confirm she looked as bad as she always had, even R981 had jerked. She had managed to startle an android.

There are more important things than beauty
.

She’d always told herself that in a vain hope that perhaps it was true. If she could help her people get the outpost on Katnia, maybe she would be able to believe it. Her fears about mating with an alien were insignificant in the grand scheme.

Trust in the Great One
.
He never gives one a burden he cannot bear
.

Mariska glanced at the minute audio transmitter hidden among the whorls of a lacquered jar. The listening dot blended in with the design. If her former android hadn’t discovered it, she wouldn’t have known it was there. Unfortunately, the jar’s cosmetic contents couldn’t camouflage her deformity the way its exterior concealed the device.

How ironic that the one room where she could escape the prying eyes of the
monitors was the one place where she couldn’t hide from herself.

* * * *

An alarm signaling a sewage overload added to the deafening cacophony of clanking, whirring machinery. The noise and the smells of Waste Recycling ensured few organic beings ever visited, making the unit one of the most private places on the station. In addition, the robots here had scarcely more intelligence than the machines they monitored. An android marched to clear the clog before sewage flooded the station, and Kai slipped by him into an unused storage room and activated his wireless through the microprocessor implanted in his brain. On a secure channel, he hailed Carter.

HM9014C?
The Cy-Ops director replied, seeking a corresponding passcode.

ZR2156Z
, Kai verified.

Report
?

The situation has changed. Obido is sending Mariska to Katnia.

When?

A cyberoperative witnessed death all the time. Caused some it. Hosticide was part of the job. So was collateral damage. The impending death of the daughter of a terrorist shouldn’t bother him, especially when he’d had no hand in it himself. Not saving her wasn’t the same as killing her. He shouldn’t feel guilty.
She leaves tomorrow,
he replied.

Shit. You’re headed to Katnia, then?

Negative. R981 will be reassigned.

To whom?

Don’t know yet.

This could be positive for us. You said Mariska didn’t know anything about her father’s operations. You might be assigned to someone closer to Obido, more knowledgeable.

That’s what they’d hoped for when Cy-Ops had intercepted a communique that Obido’s middle daughter would be receiving a new service android. They’d intercepted the shipment and substituted C684, but after three days, his transmissions back to Cy-Ops had gone dark. Not until Kai had gotten in, had he learned C684 had been dismantled—and discovered how little their target knew of her father’s operations.

It’s bad for her. She won’t survive the mating.

Unfortunate, but we need to proceed with the mission. Your cover is still strong?

He’d slipped once or twice, but only in front of Mariska.
I believe so. The chest implant has passed all the identity scans. The plastique ridges have melded with my skin perfectly. No problems there.
Other than the fact that the facial adherents itched like motherfuckers.
No one suspects I’m anything but an android.

Good. Keep it that way.

I intend to.
He estimated his life expectancy at 3.4 seconds if they discovered the service bot they’d purchased was a cyborg operative. They’d kill him on the spot. He paused, still haunted by the unveiling.
I saw her face today
.

How deformed is she?

Let’s say ugliness is in the eye of the beholder.

Oh?

She is missing the Odgidian ridge. I didn’t find her unattractive at all.
Understatement. She was probably the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Obido has to be aware sending her to Katnia will result in her death. It’s a deliberate act to kill her.

Why now?

I don’t know.

Well, keep me informed,
Carter said, his verbal indication he was
about to sign off.

If I can finagle a way to accompany her to Katnia, maybe I should go.

Negative.

The general wants to establish a base. Perhaps I can throw a wrench into the works.

No. I need you on the station. We’ve waited a long time to plant an operative inside. If you leave, R981 might be replaced with an actual android, and there’s no telling if we’ll get another opportunity. This is our best chance for locating Lamani.

Kai’d had a hunch that would be Carter’s response.

Lamis-Odg called their reclusive, elusive leader
Lamani
and considered him to be both the prophet and incarnate of the Great One they worshiped. High in rank, Obido probably knew the identity, if not the hideaway, of the terrorist mastermind.

To this point, Cy-Ops, the Association of Planets, and Terra United had fought fires, responding to terrorist attacks after the fact. Finding and neutralizing Lamani would save many lives.

A lone woman’s tragic circumstances couldn’t scuttle an entire mission when the fate of the free galaxy was at stake. Carter was right.

Understood
, Kai replied.
I’ll stay here
.

“I have come to escort you to the shuttle,” R981 said when Mariska let him into her quarters.

“I’m ready.” She pointed to the two large cases she’d packed with clothing, personal care items, and mementoes. Uncertain if she’d ever see her homeland again, she’d removed and rolled up two of the smaller tapestries. One of the hala and another of the sand dunes.

“You are sure you have everything you need for your journey?” The android moved around her sitting room. He lifted a pillow from a divan. “Perhaps you will need this?”

“No, I have everything.”

He gestured to a lamp. “Or this?”

“No.” Was he malfunctioning?

R981 grabbed the emblem with its hidden device. He juggled it from palm to palm. “How about this?”