Adjacent to the main dome was their personal hydroponic garden. That in itself was not a luxury—all of the settlers had the gardens to filter water, provide oxygen, and produce additional food. No, the luxury was in the large round tub in the center of the dome. Removing the insulated top, she uncovered a steaming pool of heated water. Ladling water out of the tub, she washed quickly, letting the water trickle down under the floor slats to be processed and recycled. As soon as she finished she slipped into the tub, settling down on the interior bench with a moan of pleasure.
Water had been so strictly rationed back on Earth that she had never taken a real bath until she moved in with Winthrop, but she had quickly come to appreciate the difference between a short, timed shower and a long soak. Despite the desert atmosphere, Mars actually had an abundant supply of clean water trapped in subdural ice. All of the settlers had a pumping system to convert the ice to water and pull it to the surface, but she doubted that anyone else had arranged for a soaking tub. Did anyone know that it was here? Perhaps knowing about it would be enough to inspire jealousy, but this time she refused to give in to guilt. Instead, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to the tall figure of her ranger on his white horse.
Chapter Five
M-231 stalked out of the habitat and tried to fight back his anger. Volunteer? As if anyone would volunteer to be made less than human. Fucking Earth Government had taken the choice away from him. He had been seventeen and desperate when he signed up for the military, too grateful for guaranteed meals and a place to sleep to worry about the details. It had taken a year for the steady diet to finally allow his body to catch up to his height, for his emaciated frame to fill in and muscles to appear. And he had still been grateful. Grateful until—no, he refused to think about that now. He steadied his heart rate and his breathing, slowed his pulse, and resumed walking with a more measured stride.
As he began a circuit of the habitat, he wondered if his suggestion that jealousy had been the reason for the sabotage was true after all. Not quite ready to expand on his other suspicions, he had thrown it out to divert her, but she was incredibly wealthy by the standards of most of the settlers. A connected vehicle shed held the rover, a small ATV, and a transport wagon. In addition to the chicken coop, another larger, empty dome was obviously intended for more livestock. A small science laboratory also adjoined the main corridor, as did her sleeping quarters, a bathroom, and…
He came to an abrupt halt as he turned the corner and saw the hydroponic garden. The transparent walls were veiled with rows of greenery, but they did not completely obscure his view. Unable to look away, he watched as Hattie ladled water out of a central pool, letting it stream down over her body—her naked body. His cock turned rock hard and pressed against his pants as he greedily drank in the sight. Long brown hair, darkened by the water, streamed down over her shoulders but did not hide two small, rosy-tipped breasts. His cock throbbed as she slid a soapy hand across them, down her slender stomach, and between her legs. She obviously did not know she was being watched—her actions were not intended to be erotic, simply a woman cleansing herself, but the unexpected intimacy of the sight had him harder than he had ever been. As she bent over the tub to get more water, revealing the full white globes of her ass, he actually took a half-step forward before he regained control.
He wanted to be in there with her, to come up behind her and bury himself in all that lush human softness, to make her cry out with pleasure, over and over again. His cock jerked at the thought, and with an impatient yank, he freed his erection. She lifted her arms over her head in a smooth, graceful gesture as she poured more water over her body, her expression rapt, and he exploded, his seed shooting out into the freezing air to fall on the barren Martian soil.
Completely unaware of his presence, Hattie stepped into the tub, sinking down into the water with a soft moan of pleasure that had him stiffening again, but as the water covered her, he came back to his senses, looking down at the icy, damp spot on the ground with a feeling of disgust. What was happening to him? Watching a woman from the dark, unable to control his lust. No wonder human females were warned to stay away from cyborgs. Determined not to repeat his shameful action, he returned to his patrol. Keeping his eyes firmly away from the dwelling, he vowed to stay outside all night, away from temptation.
With a start, Harriet forced herself awake. The combination of physical labor and warm water left her feeling almost too relaxed. Knowing that her cyborg ranger was patrolling the homestead made her feel… safe in a way that she hadn’t felt for a very long time. He was just so tall and strong that she couldn’t imagine anything hurting him. But still, that didn’t give her the right to lie around while he was working. She would make him a nice supper, she thought as she toweled off, then hesitated. Did the cyborgs eat?
She couldn’t remember if she had ever heard—and based on his reaction earlier, she likely couldn’t believe a word of it anyway. As she dressed, she decided she would make enough food for two, well, three considering his size, and if he didn’t want it, she would just eat leftovers for the next few days. At least her pantry was well-stocked. In addition to the original rations supplied to all settlers, GenCon sent weekly deliveries. Winthrop had shrugged them off as part of his salary when she protested the influx of food.
“But we really don’t need them,” she had argued.
“Just put them in the pantry.” An unexpectedly serious look had crossed his usually mild face. “You never know when times will get worse.”
Had he anticipated something like this happening? She wondered as she prepared the meal. She still wasn’t sure exactly what he had been doing for GenCon. He never liked to discuss his meetings with them, and she hadn’t pushed him. Even that last time when he had been obviously ill, he had insisted on attending and refused to let her accompany him. And he had been right in one sense; the trip hasn’t hurt him. He had been safely on his way home when the storm hit and the stress had proven too much for his fragile heart.
The memory made her shiver and she realized that the temperature was dropping. The wind had picked up as well and the anxiety that had haunted her since the day Winthrop failed to return made her pulse increase.
Where was Morgan? No matter how tough the cyborgs were, he shouldn’t be out in one of the terrible Martian dust storms. Her nervousness increased when she finished cooking and he had still not returned. She tried peering through the windows but the increasing amount of dust in the air made the night even darker than before and she couldn’t see anything. Had she offended him? Was he reluctant to come back because of her words? After pacing back and forth for another few minutes as the wind increased, she went for her outer clothes, pulling on a long thermal coat and a heavy-duty breathing mask before wrapping a long scarf around her head and neck.
The icy blast of the wind almost yanked the outer door of the airlock away from her, but she managed to shut it behind her. Dust swirled around her, whipped into clouds by the gusts of wind.
“Morgan,” she called. “You need to come inside.”
No response except the howl of the wind. Maybe he was down at the greenhouse, checking on the repairs? She took another step away from the airlock, but the frigid wind slammed into her. He might be able to survive the storm, but she couldn’t. It would be foolish to go any further. She forced her way back to the entrance, but she couldn’t make herself go inside, not yet.
“Morgan!” she screamed. “Come inside!”
She kept calling until her throat was raw, and she could tell that dust was beginning to clog the breathing mask. With a muffled sob, she gave up and opened the outer door. Once again, the heavy door flew out of her hands but this time she couldn’t pull it back. Sobs choked her throat as she wrestled with it, pulling in vain against the force of the wind. If she opened the inner door to the airlock without closing the outer door, she would lose most of the interior oxygen and it would take some time for the habitat to recover. Frantically, she tried to reme
mber which of the interior doors were closed. The garden door, had she closed it? She didn’t always because she liked the scent of growing things, but she was almost sure she had closed it tonight.
Her arms trembled and it was getting harder to breathe. If she didn’t take the chance now, she might not even have the strength to manage the inner door. She made one last pull at the door just as a tall figure loomed out of the darkness. A startled cry escaped her, and she stumbled back before she recognized Morgan. Stepping into the airlock next to her, he grabbed the outer door and pulled it closed with effortless ease.
As soon as it sealed, she threw herself at him, sobbing behind the mask.
“You’re all right. You came back.”
“Of course I came back. I told you that I would be by your side and I keep my promises.” His voice was hoarse, scratchy from the dust, but she didn’t care. She buried herself in his chest, still sobbing. Once the pressure equalized and the inner door opened, he pulled off her mask.
“Hush now, Hattie. Everything is all right.” His voice had already assumed its normal deep, smooth tone.
“I was so worried about you,” she choked, trying to stop crying.
“Worried about me? Oh, sweetheart, you should never worry about me.” And he bent his head and kissed her.
Shock held her motionless for a moment but then she felt him start to withdraw and she threw her arms around his neck. As soon as she responded, he didn’t hesitate, parting her lips and taking her mouth in a demanding kiss that sent a thrill shooting through her. This was no gentle, respectful, passionless kiss. Instead, he awoke a part of her that she had suppressed for years and she met him just as passionately. Her breasts ached and demanded, and she rubbed them against the hard warmth of his chest, trying to get closer. She could feel the iron bar of his cock against her stomach and she writhed impatiently against it, seeking more. He brought his hand to her hair, and a few strands caught in the metal, the unexpected tug shocking both of them.
Chapter Six
With a muttered curse, M-231 started to step back, then stopped when he pulled Hattie’s hair again. As gently as possible, he disentangled the soft brown strands first.
“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I did not intend for that to happen.”
A dazed expression had covered her face but at his words, her eyes narrowed. “I suppose you tripped and fell against my mouth?”
“No, I kissed you.”
“But you didn’t want to?”
“I wanted to very much, but I didn’t intend to. You are under my protection for the next five years.”
Her anger appeared to fade, and her shoulders slumped. “You’re right, of course. We shouldn’t be complicating matters with sex.”
Sex? Had she actually considered having sex with him? His cock jerked impatiently but he used all of his will power to force it down. She undoubtedly would not have gone through with it. Especially now that his cybernetic arm had made itself known. He scowled at his clumsy hand, then forced a more neutral expression.
“I apologize again.”
“Oh, stop it,” she muttered. “I’m more upset about you disappearing out into the storm than I am about the kiss. What the hell were you doing? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”
“I didn’t know if I would be… welcome. I intended to bed down in the vehicle shed with Ghost.”
“Not welcome? Listen, we have an agreement. We’re partners. That means you are entitled to one half of everything, including this habitat. Don’t scare me like that again.”
“I won’t,” he promised.
For the first time, he noticed her appearance. She was covered with dust, her face smeared with dirt and tears, and his chest ached. She looked beautiful and vulnerable—and worried. Attempting to ease her tension, he ran one of the fingers on his human hand across the dirt covering her soft cheek.
“It looks like your bath was wasted.”
“I guess so.” She gave a rueful smile, then frowned. “Wait a minute. How did you know I took a bath?”
“I, um, smelled your soap,” he said quickly. It wasn’t a lie, but he was uneasily aware that he was not telling her the entire truth. How could he confess that he had stood outside in the dark and watched her the way a starving animal would watch a feast?
Her suspicious look vanished. “Your sense of smell is that good?”
“All of my senses are enhanced, although again, only to the maximum range for human physiology.”
“Does that include taste? I made us some supper.”
“You cooked for me?” He couldn’t hide his shock. To the best of his recollection, no one had ever prepared a meal for him.
“Well, yes. Do you eat… I mean do you want to eat?” she asked hastily, her cheeks turning pink.
“I can go for long periods without human food, but yes, I do eat. I would be honored to share your table. That is… do you have enough?”
“Oh, yes. GenCon kept us well stocked. I assume that won’t continue but we have plenty of supplies, plus the chickens and the gardens, of course. Just let me wash up—no time for a bath.” She grinned at him as she disappeared into the small cleansing room.
When she returned, he was still standing in the middle of the room, fighting his guilt. She gestured him to the table and turned to the small stove. “I was thinking about what you said earlier, about how we are wealthy by Martian standards.”
“Yes?”
She kept her back to him as she broke the eggs they had gathered into a small pan. “I was just thinking how ironic it was. One of the reasons why Winthrop asked me to marry him was that the women of his class—wealthy Earth women—weren’t interested in giving up any of their money or status. But they would have had it here as well.”
“I suspect they would not find the other conditions tolerable.”
“No, I suppose you’re right.” The contents of the pan were divided onto two plates, then she added more food and brought them to the table. “Nothing fancy, I’m afraid. Scrambled eggs, mushroom risotto, and salad. But the eggs, mushrooms and the salad are all from my… from our homestead.”
The food smelled wonderful, but he would have happily eaten anything she put in front of him. He took a bite and groaned with pleasure. “This is wonderful.”
A delighted smile crossed her face. “I’m so glad you like it.”
She smiled again a few minutes later at the sight of his empty plate. “I guess you really did like it.”
“I’m sorry. I haven’t had much use for manners lately.”
“Please don’t apologize. It’s a nice change to see someone enjoying the food I prepare.”
“Your… husband did not enjoy your cooking?” The word never came any easier. He hated the thought of her with another man.
“He was ill for much of our time together and he rarely had an appetite. And before that, my mother was the same way.” A shadow crossed her face before she forced a smile. “Would you like some more?”
“If you have enough…”
“No more eggs but I made a lot of everything else. You’re so big I thought you might eat a lot of food.” The look she passed over his body was definitely one of admiration before she blushed and turned back to the stove, and he had to force his unruly cock back under control.
This time, he managed to eat more slowly, watching her as she ate with quick, dainty bites.
“You said one of the reasons,” he said thoughtfully.
“One of the reasons?”
“One of the reasons your… husband married you.”
“I used to work for him. After my mother died, the rent on our apartment was more than I could afford. I was desperate and he took pity on me.”
“Pity? Did he tell you that?” A surge of anger roared through him. “You are a beautiful, capable, desirable woman. He should have been honored that you agreed to marry him.”
“Oh.” Her eyes went wide and startled and for a moment he was afraid he had overstepped in his a
nger, but then her face softened. She put a small hand on his, not even seeming to notice that it was his cybernetic hand. “Thank you for saying that. But, no, Winthrop never told me that. He was always a gentleman.”
Something he had never been. He had grown up on the streets, half-starved and wild. The only manners he had learned were the ones drilled into him in the military.
“He sounds very… nice.”
“He was, and he was a good friend to me.” Her eyes focused on something in the distance. “But he never loved me.”
“Impossible,” he said sincerely, and he heard her breath catch.
“You really need to stop saying things like that. My head is going to swell.”
“I never say anything I do not mean.”
She blushed again and patted his hand before rising from the table. “I’ll just get things cleaned up.” The wind howled outside, and she shivered. “Maybe I’ll make it an early night. I hate listening to the storm.”
“I will clean up from our meal,” he said firmly. “Do you want to take another bath?”
“That’s all right. Once I washed my face and brushed the dust out of my hair, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. You really don’t have to clean up.”
“Of course, I do. You cooked. And we are partners, are we not?”
Her brilliant smile dazzled him. “Yes, we are.”
“Why don’t you sit by the heater and warm up? Once I’m done here, we can make plans, if you’re not too tired.”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll just get a sweater and be right back.”
She vanished into the bedroom and it took most of his self-control to turn back to the dishes rather than follow her.
Hattie returned wearing long draped pants and a matching long-sleeved top in a deep shade of green. The color suited her and although she was completely covered, he was still excruciatingly aware of the soft curves of her body beneath the cloth. She grinned at him.
The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg Page 4