by Cara Bristol
“He’ll start out as Private Sparky,” he quipped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a joke.
“Not even a corporal?” She laughed.
“I’m sure he’ll be promoted in short order.” He cocked his head. “You’ll outrank us both.”
“How’s that?
He hadn’t planned to pop the question now, hadn’t thought he had a chance she’d say yes. His only goal had been to convince her to remain on the ship. Yes, Sparky could help them improve their bio scanners, but mostly, he needed Miranda. He loved her, could not imagine spending his life without her.
“I was thinking you’d have the rank of…wife.”
“Wife?”
His heart thudded. “My wife. I know it’s too soon to ask you. I’m a cyborg. You’re fully human. You’re a pacifist.”
“I lost my pacifist card when I beheaded a Tyranian.”
“I’m a warrior. I’m—”
“Really talkative.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “Yes. Yes, you silly cyborg warrior who I love more than anything, I’ll marry you.”
“You must be aware what you’re signing up for,” he rushed on, still unable to believe his luck, needing to be sure. “We could be in space for months between furloughs and space-station stops. Duty will demand my time—”
“Dante?”
He stopped speaking.
“I’m staying. I’ll marry you.” She thumped his chest. “Stop wasting time and kiss me.”
Heat flared within him, and his heart swelled as if it would burst. He claimed her mouth in a long, deep kiss. He would always be a cyborg, but Miranda had awakened his emotions and enabled him to feel again.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“Woof, woof,” Sparky barked from his docking pad.
* * * *
I hope you enjoyed Stone Cold Cyborg. Thank you for reading. As I mentioned in the blurb, this short story was originally published in Pets in Space 1. For more cyborgs and pets, read on for an excerpt from Cyborg Rescuer (Men of Mettle 6). Cyborg Rescuer was published in Embrace the Romance: Pets in Space 2, and later released in my Men of Mettle cyborg romance series.
* * * *
Cyborg Rescuer
Chapter One
Hissing and growling, the Ka-Tȇ emerged from the jungle.
Solia hid her face under her good wing, feigning unconsciousness. Will it be me? Please, not me. Tears trickled from her eyes. If her life was spared, another’s would be taken.
Her hair registered disturbance in the air as the Ka-Tȇ approached. Through a tiny gap in the vanes of her wing, Solia caught sight of dirty, razor-like claws. Two sets of feet stopped beside the electro-cage.
No. no. no.
A hiss. “Save this one for last.” A long tail snapped.
Her hair prickled as they moved on; her heart pounded as she listened for an indication they’d stopped at the adjacent cage containing the human girl. She heard no buzz of the force field shutting off or cry from the captive.
It would be the other one, then—the sentient who rolled silently in her cage. Without legs, she moved on a rotae, a natural wheel. Solia had never seen such a creature and wouldn’t have guessed she was female except the Ka-Tȇ somehow knew. They’d killed the males first, reserving the females for a special torture.
The force field hummed.
“Get out.” The microimplant behind Solia’s ear translated the snarl into Faria. “Now.”
The hiss was followed by a cry of pain from the sentient. Make it quick. Make it quick. Nothing could save the creature, but Solia prayed she wouldn’t suffer for long.
“Run. Run for your life.” The Ka-Tȇ laughed.
Branches snapped as the sentient fled. She wouldn’t get far. None of them did. Solia bit her lip until it bled and squeezed her eyes shut.
Laughter. Grunts. Screams. Then growling, chomping, and slurping. Bile rose in Solia’s throat, and tears seeped past her shuttered eyelids. Finally, the jungle rustled as the predators moved on. Silence fell. The rusty scent of blood drifted on humid air.
“She never had a chance,” the human girl whispered.
Holding her broken left wing tight to her body, Solia sat up. “No.” Traffickers had delivered to the Ka-Tȇ eighteen hostages: six males and twelve females. All the men, one of them the human girl’s husband, had been slaughtered at the start then, each day thereafter, the Ka-Tȇ came for a female.
Now, only two remained.
“Which—which one of us do you think they’ll take next?” the human asked. Rachel, her name was.
“I don’t know,” Solia said. The human woman had never stopped hoping for a rescue. It wasn’t going to happen. No one knew they were here, and no one would risk a landing if they did. The Association of Planets had charted Katnia as a forbidden zone.
Rachel choked and pressed a knuckle to her mouth. “If I hadn’t complained so much…John was working long hours. I hardly got to see him. So he booked a cruise to surprise me.”
Solia had heard the story several times. “It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have guessed slavers would attack.” Thinking the pirates coveted the ship, the overwhelmed, outgunned crew had directed the passengers to the escape pods. The slavers had swooped in and scooped up Solia’s pod, taken everyone aboard prisoner, and handed them over to the Ka-Tȇ. Each day, another female was raped and murdered, the victims’ screams and creatures’ laughter and grunts breaking the silence of the jungle. Dwindling numbers marked the passage of time.
“How’s your wing?” Rachel asked. “Does it still hurt?”
“It’s all right, unless I move it.” With a swipe of his powerful claws, one of the Ka-Tȇ had almost torn her wing from her body to prevent her flying out of reach.
“If we could talk to them, reason with them—but they can’t speak. They hiss and growl,” Rachel said. “How can you communicate with animals?”
“They’re not animals, exactly,” Solia said. The Ka-Tȇ were humanoid felines, vicious, indiscriminate predators who had decimated their ecosystem by hunting nearly to extinction most large animals on their planet. Birds, which could sometimes escape, and rodents too small to catch, had survived. “They have a language.” An ugly, guttural one.
“All I hear is growling.”
“I can understand some of their vocalizations. I’m a linguist.” She’d worked day and night, charting the ancient languages for the Farian ambassador’s presentation to the AOP. After completing the project, she’d treated herself to a star cruise. And ended up here.
“So you can talk to them! Tell them we can be ransomed.”
Solia touched her throat, shaking her head. “I don’t have the anatomical structures allowing me to make those sounds. My aural implant helps me translate languages, but I can’t speak Katnian. “They’re not interested in money. They want the kill.”
“I never knew such creatures existed,” Rachel said.
“I knew because of my work with languages and my connections to the Association of Planets.” The AOP had barred Katnia from the alliance and issued a galaxy-wide travel advisory, except pirates and slavers didn’t obey advisories.
Rachel hugged herself. “I won’t let them rape and torture me. I’d rather kill myself.”
A swift death was the best they could hope for. Solia had thought long and hard how to provoke the creatures to anger so they would kill her quickly, but doubted she would be successful.
“But there’s nothing here!” The human girl struck the invisible force field with her fist, crying out as electricity jolted through her with a sizzle. While causing considerable pain, the voltage wasn’t high enough to kill. Rachel flung herself onto the ground, dug her fingers into the dirt, and threw a handful at the force field. Sparks, earth, and rocks sprayed. Her sobs of despair were the most heartbreaking sounds Solia had ever heard, and she realized the human girl finally had lost hope.
Chapter Two
&
nbsp; “Did you like my present, Uncle Guy?” Jessamine grinned. With the loss of another tooth, her smile appeared even more mischievous.
Guy winced. He’d forgotten about it! “I’m sorry, sweetie. Uncle Guy had to launch the ship, so he didn’t get the chance to open it yet.” He loved his seven-year-old niece like crazy; however, her antics put a cyborg’s patience to the test. R&R on Terra with his sister and her family had gone well, but he’d be lying if he said returning to work wasn’t a bit of a relief. His sister had her hands full with that little moppet.
“You…open…away.” Jessamine’s image and audio flickered as a solar storm broke up the transmission.
“What was that?”
“You…open it right away.”
“I will. Promise.”
His sister, Jill, appeared on the view screen. “I’m sorry, Guy. If I’d…inkling…what Jessamine had—”
“Don’t tell him!” Jessamine cried. “He hasn’t…yet. You’ll spoil…surprise.”
“Oh, he’s going…surprised.” Although the image pixilated, the censuring glare Jill shot at her daughter still came through. Their mother had employed that look when they were kids. It never had failed to have the desired effect on him and Jill, but it didn’t work so well on Jessamine.
His niece’s insistence he open the gift immediately and his sister’s apology had him a bit worried. What could Jessamine have given him? His bags had been collected and loaded onto the shuttle by a Cyber Operations robo when he’d kissed his family goodbye. Jessamine had hugged his neck with candy-sticky fingers. “I’m going to miss you, Uncle Guy. I got you a special present. Be sure you open it right away.”
“Will do. Thank you,” he’d said. “I’ll miss you, too, munchkin.”
He’d boarded the shuttle, but an unexpected solar storm had interfered with the electronics, necessitating his full attention—and he’d forgotten about the gift.
Guy eyed his sister and niece. “Maybe you’d better tell me what it is—”
Their images wavered then the transmission went black.
So much for that. Once clear of the solar storm, he would run back to his cabin. Many pilots might have switched to computer control during a solar incident, but, like most cyborgs, Guy preferred hands-on when situations got a little dicey. Sometimes decisions had to be made in a flash, and Guy preferred to be the one making them.
Solar wind rocked the ship, but Guy’s hands remained steady on the stick as he boosted power to the engines. The added thrust would burn more fuel, but he’d clear the storm quicker.
Once the ship was free, he set a course for Alpha Nine Seven, a space station in the Herlian sector where he would meet up with his mission partner, Brock Mann. Cy-Ops had gotten word the terrorist nation planet Lamis-Odg had set up another outpost, and he and Brock had been ordered to investigate. Guy switched piloting to the computer and left the cockpit. Now, the gift.
What could Jessamine have given him?
Ping! An encrypted communiqué from Cy-Ops Director Carter Aymes shot into his cyberbrain. He opened a frequency, but continued to shoulder his way through the narrow corridor.
Where are you? Carter asked.
Just left Terra. Had to bypass a solar wind storm, so I went a little out of my way, but I’ll be on Alpha Nine Seven as scheduled.
Change in plans. I’m sending Kai Andros to A-9-7. I need you for recon in the Katnian sector.
Katnia? What’s going on?
Intel has picked up signs of activity.
What kind of activity?
A ship reportedly landed.
Every captain and navigator steered clear of Katnia. Even the AOP, which had waited far too long to take action against the terrorist nation planet Lamis-Odg, recognized the threat posed by the Ka-Tȇ. If those creatures ever left their planet, they would go on a killing spree the likes of which the galaxy had never seen. The only thing keeping them in check was a lack of technology enabling them to leave. Who would be stupid enough to land there?
Pirates. They attacked a star cruiser a few weeks ago. An escape pod with eighteen people vanished.
Guy stopped dead outside his stateroom. You’re not suggesting they took the hostages to Katnia?
I would prefer to imagine anything else, but this particular pirate group, calling itself Quasar, has been known to hide out on Katnia in the past. No one, not even intergalactic authorities will follow them there. I have a bad feeling they’ve been providing the Ka-Tȇ hostages as prey in exchange for a safe haven from prosecution. Viciousness was inbred in the Ka-Tȇ. Their nature was what it was—but for a sentient species to give them victims… Sometimes Cyber Operations fought a losing battle in its mission to keep the galaxy safe from terror. So you want me to search for survivors?
Negative. It’s too dangerous. Do a recon from orbit. See if you can pick up any tracers from ships that might have been in the area. To be on the safe side, run a scan for nonnative life forms. If you detect any anomalies, we’ll send a team in full armor. Don’t do anything stupid. Even a cyborg is no match for the Ka-Tȇ. They hunt in packs.
Roger. He didn’t have a problem with not risking his life. Guy cocked his head as his cochlear implant detected a faint noise not part of the shuttle.
How did everything go on Terra? Carter paused. Are you okay?
I’m fine. Shit happens. He shrugged. I needed to go home anyway. My family missed me, and my niece is growing up. She’s a little pistol.
Well, I’m sorry.
Guy’s gut tightened. He appreciated Carter’s concern about his broken engagement, but he didn’t care to discuss it. He wanted to move on. I’m over it. Her loss. Anything else?
No. Keep me informed.
The noise was growing louder and seemed to originate from inside his cabin. Will do.
Aymes out, Carter said.
Roarke out.
Guy pushed into his cabin. Next to his bags was the gift—a box tied with a big red bow. The carton was moving. And mewing. “Oh, Jessamine, what did you do?”
The box bumped into his foot. Atop the lid his niece had written: LIVE ANAMUL. OPEN IMED IMID SOON!
He ripped off the bow and peeled back the top. Inside, an angry, frightened kitten hissed. Jessamine’s cat had birthed a litter, and he recognized this baby by its gray coat, four white feet, and a blotch shaped like a star on its button nose.
Sighing, he reached into the carton.
The kitten growled and swiped its claws across his skin.
“Ow!” Guy yanked his hand back. The kitten leaped out and dove under the berth.
Great. Just great. How could his niece have done such a thing? She shouldn’t have boxed up a live animal—even if she did punch air holes in the carton. If she hadn’t contacted him and insisted he open the present, the kitten might have remained inside for quite a while.
In the corner of the container, he spotted a slip of paper, partially shredded. He unfolded it.
Dear Uncle Guy,
I know you are sad, and I want you to be happy. I am giving you one of Fluffy’s kittens so you won’t be lonely. I named her Mittzi becuz she has four wite white mittens. Pleez come home again, soon.
Jessamine
XOXO
His sister worried about him, but Carter, too, and now Jessamine? He hadn’t hidden his feelings well enough if his seven-year-old niece could pick up on them.
His fiancée’s defection had devastated him.
He’d met Mariah in a cocktail lounge at the Darius 4 Pleasure Resort. Later, they’d laughed at the cliché of their meeting, how their eyes had locked across the crowded room. He’d wended his way among the floating tables, introduced himself, and offered to buy her a drink. For him, it had been love at first sight. Mariah had claimed the same, but after what had happened, he wondered.
She’d been swept away by the romance of dating a cyber operative. A cyborg. An elite breed of computer-enhanced men. Rough. Tough. Sexy as hell. He
r description—not his. Her admiration embarrassed him. He hadn’t chosen to become a cyborg; tragic circumstances had forced it upon him. He was proud of his service to the galaxy, but he didn’t consider himself special in any way.
Still, she’d made him feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy—for sure, one of the luckiest cyborgs. Guy could count on one hand the number of cyber operatives who had steady, healthy relationships: Brock Mann and Penelope Aaron, Kai and Mariska Andros, Dale Homme and Illumina, March Fellows and Empress Julietta, and Sonny Masters and Amanda Mansfield. Five fingers—five couples out of hundreds of agents.
After their vacation, they’d continued to see each other and, after a year of intergalactic dating, Guy had popped the question. Mariah had accepted and begun planning the wedding of the millennium. He’d put in for a month’s R&R so they could get married and go on a honeymoon. Undercover for months at a time, he’d been unable to be there when she wanted his opinion on the wedding arrangements. His inability to participate hadn’t thrilled her, but he’d assumed she understood.
Turned out he wasn’t one of the lucky ones.
Mariah had fallen for the fantasy of being the wife of a secret cyber operations agent more than she appreciated the reality. Two months before the wedding date, she sent him a Dear John letter.
Yeah, their breakup was as clichéd as their meeting.
Dear Guy,
I’m so sorry. I can’t marry you. I haven’t been able to find the words to tell you, but I met someone else. Someday you’ll find the right woman who will be everything you need her to be.
Mariah.
Sent from her PerComm, it had popped into his cyberbrain during a meeting with Cy-Ops HQ.
Nice. But his reaction to being jilted had proved her point. Cyborgs were a different breed. While his human side wanted to punch the wall, his computer-controlled cyborg brain carried on with the strategy session like nothing had happened. Two months later, he went home, using scheduled R&R for a family visit instead of a wedding. Curious and precocious, Jessamine kept him on his toes and amused him, even if she did wear him out after a while.