by Eve Langlais
Was he going to remove it? Were his pants next? Had the accosting and kidnapping come to the point of seduction?
His pants stayed on. But she did get an eyeful.
Her mouth gaped wide enough to impress. Her lungs locked. Her voice literally ran away. Wonder filled her, and when she finally relaxed enough to find air, she could only say, “Wow.”
Seriously wow. In a lumpy field with tufts of grass, humps of dirt, and strewn rocks, from nothing something appeared. A really big something.
It’s Mega Egg!
Aggie blinked. and yet the giant object remained. As did her first impression of it being an egg, a sphere shape standing upright against what seemed like the laws of gravity. The tips slender and rounded, yet perfectly balanced on crouching metal legs that adapted to the humped conditions. The outside appeared scaled with dark bronze metal plates bolted into place, overlapping down from the top. The effect odd, yet strangely beautiful.
What a steampunk dragon would lay if they existed and had eggs.
The scales tapered at the bottom and the tip. The top part was a dome shape made of a slick material.
None of it made in the USA she imagined. She doubted it was stamped China or even Russia. Try alien.
Which might explain the thing’s sudden appearance. “What is that? How did it just poof into existence?”
“That is my ship.”
“Can’t be a ship. It has no wings.”
He snorted. “Primitive way of thinking.” Rather than explain what that meant, he dragged her to the riveted metal contraption.
As they neared, the bottom opened, the smoothness unfolding like the petals of a flower.
A ladder descended.
Panic screamed at her. Don’t get in that ship!
If she did, she could expect to get scrambled. Have her bacon cooked. He’ll cream me—which, for some reason, brought hot pleasure instead of icy fear.
She had to escape before he got her aboard his egg. She struggled and huffed, “I am not getting in that.”
“You will. And we must board quickly.” He didn’t drag her. He grabbed and flipped her over his shoulder, once more resorting to cave-man style. Did his kind not believe in letting women walk?
The rustling of branches drew her attention, and she twisted her head to see. Shadows made it hard to discern, and yet foliage moved. “Um, cyborg dude, I think we have company.”
He jostled her as he climbed, the heavy tread of his boots loud as he hit each rung. She got to see Susan emerging from the forest, her hair a whipping blue storm that immediately began firing.
“Faster!” Aggie yelled, suddenly keen on seeing the inside of a cyborg’s ship. It beat dying from laser bolts.
“Grab my gun and shoot,” he advised.
She eyed his hip. Then eyed the approaching Susan with her lightning-bolt hair. Movement turned her attention in time to see Viola emerging from the bushes, no longer sporting a tiny ray gun but some bazooka-type thing. She raised it and aimed.
“Oh my god she’s going to blow up your ship.”
“Not today,” he grunted as he climbed past the lip into his mega egg. He flipped Aggie to the side, and his foot stomped a big pedal on the floor. The bottom of the dome shuttered. She could no longer see Viola and Susan, which meant she could only panic and imagine what was happening outside.
Any minute, a giant bazooka-sized explosion would hit and kill them.
The cyborg didn’t seem perturbed. He ignored everything happening outside in favor of playing with some machinery. Tons of it lined the room. Primitive-looking stuff that had dials and gauges, cogs and pistons.
He began turning dials left and right, flicking some switches. Things began to chug. Hum. The floor under her feet vibrated.
The mega egg rocked as something hit it.
“We’re gonna die,” she moaned.
“You will if you’re not quiet,” he retorted, racing to another machine and pulling a lever.
“I highly doubt your mega egg can withstand Viola and her bazooka.”
“We’ll be fine for a few more shots. The shields are full strength. Get up to the top and strap in.”
“Why?”
“Because we are about to leave.”
On the one hand, a great idea. It beat burning or exploding into bits. On the other… “Where are you taking me?”
“Busy.” He ignored her to run around, playing with more buttons and yanking rods.
The vibration grew more intense. Things began to hiss and whistle.
It might be prudent to do as he said and strap in.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
He pointed.
Looking in the direction indicated, she sighed. A ladder. Great.
Grabbing the first rung, she hauled herself up, finding it challenging, given she still wore the tight corset and pants, not to mention the boots. As for the coat? She shed the weight at the bottom rather than try and carry it. Not even halfway up her climb, the ladder vibrated enough to make her teeth chatter.
She clung tight, waiting for it to subside, but it appeared to be getting worse.
“Move faster,” he complained.
She wasn’t surprised to see him just under her. “I’m trying,” she grumbled. “Would it have killed you to have stairs installed instead?”
“Such a waste of space.”
She didn’t know if he meant the stairs or her.
With a noisy sigh, he climbed over her and somehow managed to tuck her under an arm as he kept moving upward. His non-metal arm, she observed, displayed an impressive strength.
The top of the ladder spilled them into the nose of egg. A clear dome gave her a view of outside. Including the firefight.
Viola fired at the ship. The giant gun recoiled, the massive ball of lightning terrifying to see. Yet not having much impact. It spattered against the scales and dispersed.
“What is this thing made of?” she asked.
“A mixture of metal alloys,” he replied. “Yet it isn’t the exterior keeping us safe but the shield. But it can’t handle much more. The energy is dwindling.”
“We’re doomed,” she announced.
“Are you always so pessimistic?”
“When the conditions warrant it.”
“We aren’t dying today.”
Maybe they wouldn’t because, “Look, Mina’s back to save us!” Indeed, the petite author had returned, double fisted and firing like crazy, knocking blue electrical hair zaps out of the air.
The elation proved short-lived as a blue zing struck Mina in the shoulder, sending her to the ground.
“Oh no!” Aggie pressed her hands on the glass.
The vibration of the egg increased, and a cloud emerged in a ripple, knocking evil Susan into the bushes and staggering Viola.
A shrinking Viola.
Aggie gaped. “We’re moving.”
“Your powers of observation are basic,” he noted. “Strap in.”
“Where are we going?” She whirled to see him seated in a chair.
“Somewhere we can remove the cog from your body.”
Her eyes widened, and she reached for the side of her face. Felt the ridge of metal sticking out of flesh.
My flesh.
Her scream was rather loud.
5
Nothing wrong with the human’s vocal cords, but her obedience needed work. No wonder her kind weren’t valued in the universe. Prone to pessimism, shrillness, too many questions, and being all-around annoying.
Which meant he shouldn’t have had a qualm about carving the cog out of her head. Yes, it would hurt and leave her disfigured, but what did he care of a measly human?
Apparently, he cared enough that he leaped from his seat, grabbed her screaming frame, slammed himself back into the chair, and buckled himself in, and used his arms to hold her tight, before the countdown finished.
Just in time. The ship launched, the force of it enough to smush him, and her into him.
Aggie traded screaming for chanting. “Ohmygod. Ohmygod.”
She also clung to him, face buried in the crook of his neck, her hot panicked breath moist on his skin. Did this mean she thought him a god?
Mildly flattering. Then again, he could understand. With his greatness, he must seem so far above her.
The ship rattled as it hit the atmosphere, breaking through the barrier between this planet and space.
The pressure eased once they popped clear. It did nothing to relax the human. She shivered and moaned.
Unsure what to do, he patted her back. “Rejoice, human. You are not dead.”
She raised her head to eye him. “I have a chunk of metal stuck in my face.”
“Which we will have removed.” No need to mention the disfigurement part yet.
“How? When?”
“As soon as we reach a planet with a proper medical facility.” Again, a better answer than as soon as he found a sharp enough knife.
“Planet?” She said the word slowly before turning her head. Saw the vastness of space all around them. The dome, a material practically indestructible and clear, showcased the splendor.
Only she didn’t gape in awe or thank him for dragging her from the dregs of her backwards world.
She popped up from his lap with a moan and paced, waving her hands frantically. “Oh no. This is happening. How can this be happening? Aliens don’t exist. Cyborgs don’t exist.” She cast him a glance. Shook her head. “No. This isn’t real. I must be dreaming. I have to wake up.” She pinched herself. “Wakey, wakey, Aggie. You are in bed. Probably drunk because you had a few at the ball. Darn that Rebecca.” She hyperventilated, not making any attempt to control her breathing.
“Are you suffering from space sickness already?” he asked, interrupting her monologue.
“Don’t talk to me!” She whirled and shook a finger. “My dreams were perfectly normal until you appeared in them.”
“You are not dreaming.”
“Says you!”
He shoved himself out of the seat and stalked toward her, paying no mind to the fact she retreated until her back hit the dome. He bracketed her with his arms and leaned close. “You are awake. This is happening.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Prove it!”
A defiant demand that could have had many replies, including a slap. Which was what he’d have to done to any one of his crew. But he was loath to raise his hand. He used his lips instead.
It worked once before, back on her planet. He’d silenced her with his mouth. Enjoyed it quite a bit, too.
The touch of his lips quieted her immediately. The soft plushness of hers inviting. The taste of her unique.
He cupped her face to draw her close and touched the cog in her cheek. A reminder of what he’d have to do.
It proved enough to draw him away, to do his best and ignore her closed eyes and soft expression.
“Does that feel like a dream?”
Her lashes fluttered, and she offered him a crooked smile. “Now it feels like a dirty one.” She flung her arms around his neck and took him by surprise when she plastered her mouth once more to his.
The fierce passion of it. Raw. Hot. Drawing a response in him. Making him feel more organic than he’d felt in a long time.
It jolted him more than an electric prod in the buttock. He shoved away from her and glared. “This is real.”
“So you keep saying. But it can’t be. I mean look at this place.” She twirled and held out her hands. “This is not a spaceship.”
He glanced out the dome then back at her. “I can assure you this craft is capable of galactic travel.”
“Everyone knows spaceships have to be fancier than this. Not to mention they have more parts. And fins. Pretty sure they have Jaws-like appendages.” She held a hand to her head and hummed a strong tune.
“Protuberances are not recommended for space travel. The less friction, the better the energy consumption.”
“You travel the galaxy and worry about your gas mileage?” For some reason, this caused her to snicker.
“You appear delusional. Perhaps you should indulge in some sleep.”
“Sleep?” She snorted. “Already happening, buddy. I must have fallen asleep instead of going back downstairs. And then, because of all those panels today, I am having the dream of all dreams.”
“I thought we’d clarified this was no hallucination.”
“No, we clarified you are a great kisser. Which I guess means I’m a great kisser since I’m imagining it.” She beamed.
“You cannot judge your own embrace.” He couldn’t help being a tad insulted that she thought herself better than him.
“Then you judge it. Kiss me again, my cyborg abductor.”
A demand she made and yet she was the one to fling her arms around his neck. To smash her mouth against his. This time she pressed herself firmly against him, and the tip of her tongue teased the seam of his lips. She sought to muddy his thoughts. To distract him from his course.
He had to stop her. Stop the strange temptation she posed. But how, when she clung to him so passionately?
Before he could think twice, he adjusted his weapon arm and zapped her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she slumped.
Had he given her too much? Did she die?
A soft breath escaped her.
Not dead. So what should he do with her? His cock pulsed, a living thing in his pants that ignored all command to stand down.
It would be so easy to take care of it. It was her fault he found himself unwillingly aroused.
He eyed his bed. Then, before he could change his mind, he placed her on the mattress before getting down to business.
6
He covered her. His large body hot and heavy. His lips ardent.
And wet. Her cheek was damp. She raised a hand to move that tongue to better places and touched something furry.
Soft fur, with the occasional stiff bristle. Not skin.
Definitely not the rugged lines of a face, her wakening mind realized, a second later grasping the fact that she touched something hairy. A little wiggly with a slippery tongue sloshing across her cheek and jawline.
Opening her eyes, wide enough it was a wonder they remained in her head, she unhinged her jaw, ready to unleash the scream of all screams.
It emerged as a raspy, “Eep.”
The barely noticeable sound did not in the least daunt the big, multi-tentacled, yellow furball sitting on her chest.
“Ohmygod. What are you?” And more importantly, would it kill her? She feared moving or saying anything, because what if she triggered it? Would it suddenly turn into a crazed, multi-toothed carnivore craving Earth-girl flesh?
The yellow furball shivered and cooed, the sound emanating from somewhere within the lush fur as its one giant eye stared.
And stared.
Not once blinking, the pupil a fascinating lilac shade, big and full. Pretty darned cute once you got used to it.
It ran a wet tongue against her cheek again, and she giggled. Licked by an alien—not something that happened every day. Was this the galactic version of a cat?
It waggled a furry limb and patted her dry cheek. She rubbed its head, body, possibly its butt for all she knew, and enjoyed its deep purr.
Relaxed, she turned her head and happened to look overhead. The glass dome gave a clear view of darkness… Not utter black, or she might have really panicked, yet the spots of light were sparse. And she saw no signs of a familiar sun or moon.
Nothing familiar at all.
I’m in space.
She wanted to deny it. To claim this was all a dream. But there was no ignoring the fact Aggie wasn’t anywhere near Ottawa. Possibly not even in her solar system.
Am I the first human to travel this far from Earth?
Was she the first one to meet a cyborg?
The first to get rejected? Because she could only surmise he wasn’t interested given he'd knocked her a
ss out.
What kind of guy tasered a girl he was making out with?
Might be time for me to remember he’s not a real guy.
Which made her wonder, was he the only person—cyborg, thing—on this ship?
Tucking a hand around the furball, she rose to a sitting position and took a more upright view of the room. She found herself in a bed, the mattress firm but the sheet soft, as was the blanket over her. Wiggling her body to check it for boo-boos sent the fluffy yellow octopus to the end of the bed. It stared at her and cooed before sliding off the edge out of sight.
She appeared uninjured if uncomfortable as heck. She pulled back the cover to notice she still wore her steampunk costume, coat, boots and all.
The sight of the corset brought a wince. She could just imagine the marks it left in her skin. She couldn’t wait to get it off.
And suddenly she totally wanted it off. The corset, the boots, the pants. Everything. It was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong since she’d put them on.
I knew I should have stayed in my room and read.
Rising from the bed, she looked around for something to wear. Didn’t marauding pirates have a chest of booty? This was a marauding cyborg. Did they even keep treasure?
Didn’t matter. All she needed was his clothes.
She noted the furry octopus watching her as she moved around the strange room. The dude didn’t seem the type to have a pet, but then again, what did she really know of cyborgs?
Her education came from Terminator and romance novels. Which had one thing in common. The cyborgs hated humans!
The reminder didn’t ease her panic levels. She looked around more closely, having not seen much before other than the giant vastness of space—which still freaked her out, so she did her best to avoid looking at it.
The walls of the room curved with the dome, the entire space maybe twenty feet across. Not huge, but big enough for a few chairs and the bed. The entire area under the domed window appeared to be cabinetry, curving to follow the shape. Cabinets meant supplies.
Opening the first door netted her a shock, as she saw two mechanical arms and one leg tucked into the space. The robot equivalent of a clean wardrobe?