“Don’t be any more stupid than you’ve already been.”
He tossed a pair of cuffs to the big man. “Handcuff yourself to him.”
The man’s cocksure grin had faded and he silently obeyed.
“Up against the rover.” He only had one pair of cuffs, but he could make do. He yanked a chain off the rover, threaded it through the cuffs and around the third man’s uninjured arm, then wrapped it back around the rover. It wasn’t pretty, but it should hold them until he returned.
He scowled at them. “I suggest that you don’t try to escape. I don’t take lightly to prisoners trying to flee.”
“Prisoners?” Despite the broken wrist he cradled against his side, the little guy scowled at him. “You don’t have the authority for that.”
“Yes, I do. I am the Judge.”
The man went pale and his companions looked down. A slight flicker of satisfaction filled him as he went to attend to the woman. Good. His reputation had preceded him. He was, in fact, the Territorial Judge for this section of Mars, but he had earned the title as much from his quick and merciless judgments as by his official status.
The men were forgotten as he bent over the woman, lifting her carefully into his arms in order to examine her injury. He bent her over his arm, ruthlessly ignoring the lush curves of her breasts as they pressed against him. For such a small woman, she had more than her share of curves. Once again, he caught a hint of a familiar scent, but he was too focused on her wound to try and chase the memory.
The point of impact was still bleeding but it had slowed to a sluggish trickle. The bone was undamaged, and he couldn’t feel the heat that would indicate subdural swelling. Still, head wounds could be tricky things. He needed to get her medical assistance as soon as possible, which meant he needed to get her back to the lab.
Still cradling her in his arms, he rose to his feet, pausing to glare at the three subdued men watching him from beside the rover.
“You had better be here when I get back. Don’t make me come looking. I will find you, and you will regret it.”
Without waiting for a response, he swung up onto his horse. Not an actual horse of course, since the legendary Earth animals wouldn’t be able to survive the still limited level of oxygen in the Martian air, but a robotic construction. A machine. And yet, he had begun to consider the horse as something more than just a collection of metal and rubber. Two of his fellow cyborgs had mated human females who named their animals and he had found himself referring to his own horse by name.
“Careful, Blackie,” he ordered as he turned up the canyon. “I don’t want to jostle her.”
The animal picked his way delicately along the rocky surface and S-756 turned his attention to his patient. He gathered her coat together, trying to cover her breasts where they threatened to spill out of her coveralls but as he did, his fingers brushed the silky flesh. To his shock, his body responded, his cock stiffening despite his usual restraint. No woman ever threatened his control, not since…
The woman moaned and batted weakly at his hand before her eyes flew open. Huge purple eyes stared up at him, eyes that he had never forgotten. For a brief second, joy filled him, wiping the past away, but then the memories came crashing back. An impulse to fling her away from him vied with the need to pull her closer.
She blinked up at him, obviously confused, and he couldn’t help but study her hungrily. Her body might have ripened over the years, but her face had a fragile quality, the skin stretched taut over her cheekbones. Shadows haunted her eyes and a worried line was etched between her brows but she was even more beautiful in her vulnerability. Every instinct he had cried out for him to protect her, but he had learned his lesson. He forced his face into its usual stern mask.
“I should have known. What’s the matter, Addie? Did those men not want to play your games?”
As Addie regained consciousness, her body rocked gently, securely clasped in a firm hold, and for a moment she relaxed, feeling safe in a way that she hadn’t felt for years. But then a warm hand brushed against her breasts. Only the lightest touch but she panicked, her arms flailing, the movement causing a burst of pain in her head. Her eyes flew open and she saw the face hovering over her, harsh, weather-beaten, but unmistakable. An overwhelming surge of delight—Sam, her Sam—was quickly swallowed by a rush of guilt and pain.
For a second, his eyes warmed, but then they turned a pale, icy blue. He said something, his voice low and harsh, but she didn’t hear the words, still drinking in that beloved face. How many times had she studied the image in his file? The clean-cut military man had been replaced by a rugged cowboy, but the change had done nothing to lessen his appeal.
“S-Sam?” she whispered.
“Sam doesn’t exist. I am S-756.” The harsh tone of voice finally penetrated, and she tried to push away from him. His firm grip turned into bands of iron and she couldn’t move.
“Let me go!”
“You’re injured.” The voice was implacable, uncaring.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said bitterly. “Let me go.”
Tension thrummed through the arms surrounding her but they didn’t loosen.
“That’s what happens when you play games.”
“Games?” She stared up at him, but then the more recent memories came flooding back and she started struggling again. “Those men! What happened? Did they…”
She frantically checked for injuries but the only pain was in her head, not the familiar ache between her legs.
“No. I stopped them. Maybe I shouldn’t have.” A flash of regret seemed to follow the harsh words and his arms tightened momentarily, not in punishment but in… remorse?
“Sam,” she whispered again but his face hardened.
“S-756.”
He didn’t understand. How could he? But surely she could tell him now. It had been so many years and even if she hadn’t managed to escape Derrick’s control completely, he had other uses for her now.
“I need to explain—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
As he spoke, he adjusted her position, holding her as far away from him as possible, no longer cradled against his chest. She immediately missed his warmth and shivered. When she tried to pull her coat around her, she realized that the fasteners had ripped and she had to hold it in place. The memory of how the damage had occurred swept over her and she shivered again.
“What happened to those men?”
“I’m dealing with them.” His tone did not invite questions.
“You?”
“I’m the Territorial Judge.” For a moment, his voice softened. “Why did you do it, Addie? Why did you go meet them there?”
“Meet them?” She shifted enough to see his face. “I wasn’t going to meet them.”
He scoffed. “You just happened to run into three men in the middle of the Martian desert?”
“I went for a walk. I-I thought I saw a man on a horse and I was curious. I didn’t know they were there until I stumbled on their camp.”
“You were always too curious for your own good,” he muttered, and her heart skipped a beat.
Her curiosity was the reason they met. She had been exploring the lab complex late one night, poking around to see what other experiments were being conducted, when she passed the dark cell. She had heard him groan, a low, pained noise, and something had driven her to open the door, to investigate. She’d been afraid to turn on the light and all she could make out in the darkness was the dim figure of a man strapped to a lab table.
“Are you all right?” She had rushed to his side. “What are they doing to you? Should I call the police?” she asked doubtfully, not at all sure that the authorities would dare step inside a GenCon building.
“No. I… volunteered.”
“You did?”
He laughed bitterly. “In a way.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Will you be in trouble if you’re discovered?”
To her surprise, he had taken her seriously, assuming that she was part of the maintenance staff, but she hadn’t bothered to correct him. She’d heard one too many jokes about geeky girls to invite more by telling him that she was a newly hired scientist.
“What’s your name?”
“Addie.”
“Talk to me, Addie. Remind me that there is more to life than this place.”
And that was how it began. She had visited him almost every night, talking to him, sneaking him desserts once she realized he had a sweet tooth, applying cooling cloths on those nights when his body had been strained to the limit and the healing process of his nanites overheated his system. Of course, she had looked him up as soon as she returned to her desk. Major Sam Wilson, one of the first cyborgs to be created and now subject to Derrick Mingol’s experiments to test his limits. He had never told her what he was and she had never asked. And each night, she had fallen more and more in love with him, enough to make the most painful sacrifice of her life in order to save him.
She had to tell him.
“Sam—”
Once again, he cut her off. “I don’t answer to that name, Addie. Or is that even your name?”
Her lips quivered but she supposed she deserved his scorn. “It’s a nickname. My full name is Adelaide Montgomery.”
“Isn’t that Adelaide Mingol?” he sneered.
“No.”
“You didn’t marry him?”
“I did.” She had no choice. “We’re divorced.”
The expression that flashed across his face was impossible for her to read—anger, relief—but then his lips twisted in a cruel smile.
“Did he get tired of your games too?”
That hurt much more than the lingering pain in her head. Through the tears filling her eyes, she saw the lab complex just in front of them.
“Let me down,” she demanded, hating the way her voice shook.
“I’ll take you inside.”
“Don’t trouble yourself.”
She pushed fruitlessly at his arms as he brought the horse to a halt. He hesitated, then swung smoothly to the ground, lifting her down with him. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she cried out as her twisted ankle gave way. Swearing, he lifted her back into his arms, carrying her easily as he stomped to the airlock. As soon as the outer door opened, she spotted one of the poles used to collect soil samples.
“Put me down. I’ll use one of those to support my leg.”
Once again, he hesitated, then obeyed. As soon as the sample pole was wedged securely under her arm, she hobbled to the door.
“Now leave.”
He walked past her in silence but then turned to face her.
“There’s just one thing you should know,” she said furiously. “They were never my games. They were always Mingol’s, and he hurt me just as much as he ever hurt you.”
Then she slammed her hand down on the button to close the door, not even waiting to see his expression as she turned away.
Frozen in place, S-756 watched as the outer door of the airlock slid closed. She had to be lying. He had been there. She hadn’t asked for his help; she had turned away from him, turned to Mingol. He wanted to go back and demand the truth, but what good would it do after all these years?
He still had to force himself to mount Blackie and ride away. Even if she was lying, his instincts kept demanding that he return, that he make sure she had medical care for her injuries. The feel of her body against his lingered. How could she still have felt so right in his arms?
By the time he returned to where the men were chained to the rover, his face was so grim that they shrank away from him.
“Judgment time.”
Chapter Four
Addie made it through the inner door of the airlock before the tears could no longer be contained. She leaned back against the door and dashed furiously at her cheeks, trying to stem the flow. Damn him. And damn herself. How could she blame him for hating her? But God, it hurt to hear him speak to her like that.
“Dr. Montgomery? Is something wrong?”
Reggie appeared next to her, his serious young face creased with worry.
“No. I-I hurt my ankle and hit my head.”
“You went outside?” He looked shocked.
She managed a rueful grin. “Apparently, it was a mistake. Can you help me to the med lab?”
“Yes, of course.” He blushed as he cautiously put his arm around her waist to help support her injured side.
They limped a few steps down the corridor before he spoke.
“I hate to ask, but is this going to affect the testing?”
“Reggie!”
He blushed again. “It’s just that we’ll need to let headquarters know.”
“I know, I know.” Her ankle throbbed and her head pounded but most of all, her heart ached. For a moment, the work she was doing seemed completely unimportant, but she forced herself to concentrate. There was so much more at stake than her personal feelings. “Let’s just see what the medical scanner says.”
Ironically, given the nature of their work, the main medical assistance in the lab complex was robotic. They had all been trained to operate the diagnostic machine and Reggie ran the scanner over her ankle and head.
“Your head is fine.” He pushed up his glasses. “No internal bleeding or permanent damage, although it does prescribe twenty-four hours rest.”
“I’m sure that’s just a recommendation,” she said wearily. No amount of rest was going to ease her heart. “What about my ankle?”
“Sprained but not broken.”
He helped her over to a second machine which quickly and efficiently encased her ankle in a rigid bandage. When she cautiously stood up and put her weight on her foot, it held her with only a mild ache.
“It also suggests a pain pill,” he added reluctantly.
“I think I’m fine.” She forced a smile. “But I still need to lie down for a short while.” She held up a hand before he could speak. “I know we’re on a deadline, but I have to get some sleep.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Is everything ready for the next experiment?”
“Yes.” He hesitated for a second, then burst out, “Don’t you think we should consider a live subject?”
The thought horrified her. “No. You know we’re not ready for that.”
“But some of the problems we’re having, they may not occur with a different subject.”
“That’s not the way the experimental protocol works and you know it.”
“I know. It’s just…” He adjusted his glasses again. “If we don’t make progress soon…”
“I know, Reggie, I know.” She sighed, exhaustion and pain making her sway on her feet. “But right now, I have to get a few hours of sleep.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
He accompanied her back to her room, shooting her a sideways glance. “Your ankle was pretty badly sprained. How did you manage to make it back to the lab?”
“I ran into one of the cyborg rangers,” she admitted reluctantly, firmly suppressing the memory of her other encounter.
“Really?” Reggie’s eyes sparkled behind his glasses. “I would love to meet an actual cyborg. What was it like?”
“He was very professional.” And just as tall, strong, and handsome as she remembered. Although in her dreams, his face had never been that harsh. But despite his equally harsh words, he had handled her with exquisite gentleness.
“Damn Earth Government,” Reggie muttered. “They have the technology. Why won’t they share it with us?”
Addie shuddered at the thought. GenCon was far too powerful already. If they had been able to create cyborgs of their own, there was no telling what they would have done to them—or with them.
“I suspect they prefer to keep it under government control.”
“But it could solve our pr
oblem. The nanites work in their systems. Did Dr. Mingol ever take samples of their blood?”
“He took samples of everything.” The bitterness couldn’t be disguised. “But the nanites are inert as soon as they leave the host body.”
“Maybe we need a live cyborg to help us…”
“Reggie!” She came to an abrupt halt, whirling to face him. “They’re not experimental objects. They are people. Derrick never recognized that, but I thought you were better than him.”
He adjusted his glasses again, but his chin jutted out obstinately. “If we can just crack this, think how many people we can help. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made.”
“The people who say that are rarely the ones making the sacrifices,” she said dryly. Although she knew he was driven mainly by idealistic fervor, as she had been once, it still concerned her that he seemed to be heading down the darker side of science.
“Look,” she said gently, “we all need some rest. Why don’t you get some sleep while I’m resting, or at least go have a meal and relax for a few hours? We’ll start fresh in the morning.”
“Yes, Doctor,” he muttered and headed off down the corridor.
With a sigh, she entered her room and stripped out of the torn coveralls. Exhaustion had her tottering as she washed up and climbed into her bunk, wondering once again how she ended up here on Mars. Because you had no choice, she reminded herself, her eyes going to the small picture that was the only adornment on her walls. Derrick had made it impossible for her to do anything else. She prayed once again that the legal agreement between them was as binding as her lawyer had promised.
She shoved her worries to the back of her mind with the strength of long practice, her thoughts turning to Sam again. She had assumed that he would be here on Mars, of course. Once the Green Shield—the magnetic dipole barrier that floated in space between Mars and the sun, blocking destructive solar winds and radiation—had made terraforming possible, the government created the cyborgs specifically to begin the process. Their ability to survive the low atmospheric pressure, the lack of oxygen, and the frigid temperatures made them ideal candidates for the job. But even though she had tormented herself with the idea that they would meet again, she hadn’t really expected it to happen. It was a large planet and she had been made strictly aware that her place on it was confined to one place: the GenCon lab complex.
A Fistful 0f Cyborg (Cyborgs On Mars Book 2) Page 3