Breathing Vapor

by Cynthia Sax

  I don’t know what to think. Vapor had never faced a being like his female. She lied about everything.

  They stepped into the light. A ship waited. The structure to their right was rubble. Fires burned to their left. The downward ramp had a massive hole blasted in it. A layer of ash covered the ground.

  There wasn’t a mark on the ship’s gleaming white hull.

  “It hasn’t been touched.” Mira sounded pleased.

  “Yours is one of the few ships still functional.” Her friend navigated around the hole in the ramp. “If we had known, we would have sent all of our transports back to the cyborg manufacturing compound during the party.”

  “Who would have guessed that the locals would act so foolishly?” Vapor’s female shrugged, the movement jiggling her curves. “The Humanoid Alliance will destroy them and rightly so. They’re ungrateful heathens.”

  Thrasher opened the door to the ship. Mira entered the vessel and sat primly, her knees pressed together. Vapor and Thrasher claimed the seat across from her.

  “Don’t forget my units, Mira.” Her enemy’s smile chilled Vapor to his frame.

  “You’re being tedious, Lydna.” Mira swept the air with her fingers. “What are you waiting for, machine?” she snapped at Thrasher. “Close the door and input our destination.”

  Is this part of my duties now—opening and closing doors for her? Thrasher obeyed her commands and the ship moved. I’m a cyborg, a warrior, not her servant.

  “Female,” Vapor rumbled.

  She held her right index finger up to her lips. “Ship, has any being, other than myself, accessed your controls?”

  “One unidentified female has accessed my controls, adding recording and tracking programs.”

  His female had reason to be careful. She glanced at Vapor. He nodded, indicating that they’d take care of it. Thrasher, can you remove those?

  I’m on it. His friend placed his palms on the panel and closed his eyes. He broadcast the feed to Vapor, the images scrolling too fast for any human to process.

  What he discovered enraged Vapor. In the past, the ship had been programmed to stop at the most dangerous districts at the most dangerous of times. His female took too many risks.

  “The ship is now clear.” Thrasher returned to his seat.

  “Good.” Mira visibly relaxed, her shoulders lowering, the warmth returning to her face. “There’s no need to say who accessed my ship.” She gazed out the viewing panel. “I already know it was Lydna.”

  “Yet you’re selling cyborgs to her.” Vapor couldn’t get the disgust out of his voice. “To your enemy.”

  “Yes, I am.” She met his gaze, holding it.

  “Are you lying to me, female?” He didn’t know anymore.

  “I’m not lying to you. The cyborgs will be sold and delivered to their new mistress by the end of this planet rotation.”

  That despicable act would seal her death sentence. The other cyborgs would choose her as the target and Vapor would have to kill her.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen. “You will not sell any of my brethren.” He pulled her across his lap, facedown, ass up. “Agree to this or face the consequences.”

  “Let me go.” She wiggled, kicking her legs, punching his thighs with her tiny fists.

  “I’ll release you when I have your agreement.” He swatted her ass. The sound of skin hitting fabric-covered skin rang through the ship. She jerked and cursed under her breath.

  His stubborn female didn’t yield.

  “Agree, Mira.” He could be as stubborn as she was.

  “I’m selling them.” Her voice was strained.

  “You are not.” Vapor whacked her generous curves a second time, using only a portion of his strength, wishing to shock her, not hurt her. She cried out, her spine bowing, but she didn’t say the word he wanted to hear. “Agree.”

  “Never.”

  She wouldn’t break easily. “Agree.” Smack. “To This.” Smack. “Obstinate.” Smack. “Female.” He rained blows down on her squirming ass.

  Mira shrieked and fought. Vapor pressed one hand between her shoulder blades, pinning her to his thighs, holding her easily, and continued to reprimand her.

  He was careful to vary his blows, not hitting the same expanse of warm female twice. He might have been too cautious. Her musk filled his nostrils and she lifted her ass, meeting his descending palm midway.

  The spanking was arousing his female. She wanted this. Vapor’s cock hardened. Excitement and need surged through his circuits.

  Punishment, he reminded himself. This was supposed to be a punishment.

  Her legs trembled. If she came, he’d take her, lose himself in passion, and she’d learn nothing from the experience.

  He also wouldn’t gain her agreement.

  Vapor needed her agreement. He didn’t want to kill her.

  He forced himself to slow and then stop the spanking. Mira tilted her ass upward, offering her body to his hand.

  Stars above, she tempted him.

  Vapor gazed at the ship’s far wall, fighting for control, his fingers twitching to finish what he’d started, to give her the satisfaction she craved.

  “Vapor.” Her voice was thin with need.

  “Tell me you won’t sell any more cyborgs.”

  Mira said nothing, her head hanging downward, her blonde curls covering her beautiful face.

  “I’ll give you release if you give me your agreement.” He rubbed his palms over the curve of her ass, accentuating the burn, reminding her of the pleasure he could grant her.

  “Fuck you, cyborg.” She wiggled. “I’ll obtain my own release.”

  “No, you won’t.” Vapor caught her wrists and extended her arms, taking that option away from his clever female. “Stop fighting me. You won’t win and you’re hurting both of us by not capitulating.”

  She twisted, trying to pull her arms free. He held her easily.

  After several moments of useless struggle, she calmed but she didn’t surrender. “I’m selling your friends,” she muttered against his thighs.

  She wasn’t selling cyborgs. She was selling his friends. Vapor’s lips flattened. “If you sell any of my friends, I’ll be forced to kill you.”

  “I thought you’d already decided to do that.” She turned her head and gazed up at him. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks and he felt a twinge of guilt. He was partially responsible for her distress. “You marked me.”

  He had. “Agree to stop this foolishness and I might not have to kill you.”

  “Some things are worth dying for.”

  “Like what?”

  She didn’t answer. His closed-mouthed female wouldn’t tell him anything.

  She’d put him in the position of having to end her life. When he did that, the light in her eyes would dim, her heart would stop beating, and any chance of happiness for him would cease to exist.

  Vapor sighed. “We’re warning the others about your plans.”

  “No, you’re not.” Mira stiffened. “You vowed that you wouldn’t relay the activities of this planet rotation to any being.”

  “We made that vow last planet rotation.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened. “You can’t wiggle out of it using a technicality, Vapor.” She pushed against him, and he released her, needing the distance, knowing she couldn’t move far from him. “You understood what I meant.” She scurried to the opposite seat.

  “A machine follows commands, not meanings.” His tone was dry.

  “But you’re not a machine. You’re a cyborg.” She crossed her arms underneath her breasts, as though she was trying to protect herself.

  From him.

  From his betrayal.

  You can’t trust any being, she’d told him, and he’d prove her right if he didn’t relent. She’d look at him as she looked at the others, her eyes cold and her beautiful face frozen.

  Vapor didn’t want that. He wanted to be the male she relied on.

  We understood what she meant,
Thrasher contributed, his friend’s response solidifying Vapor’s decision. Saying nothing was the right choice.

  “I am a cyborg.” He nodded. “And cyborgs, unlike humans, have honor. We’ll extend the original agreement to this planet rotation and won’t relay your conversations or actions to any other being, including our brethren.”

  She blinked once, twice. “You won’t betray me?”

  Her shock that they’d maintain their silence squeezed Vapor’s heart. His little human had been surrounded by enemies for too long.

  “No, we won’t betray you.” His voice softened.

  Mira stared at him for a heartbeat more and then smiled, her relief dazzling him. “Thank you.” She returned to his side, curling up against him. “That means a lot to me.”

  “It would mean a lot to me if you shared your plans.” He threaded his fingers through her curls, separating the tendrils.

  “I can’t. There are too many lifespans at risk. I won’t fail them as I failed my mom.”

  “You were a child.” He wanted to kill some being.

  “And I made a childish mistake.” She gazed up at him. “I shared information I didn’t need to share. Cyborgs don’t chatter, do they?”

  “Not to humans,” Thrasher joined the conversation. “We chatter constantly to each other. It’s one of our greatest strengths. Information is relayed. Insights are pooled. Experiences are shared.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Mira rested her cheek against Vapor’s chest. “Talking can be a strength?” She paused, the lines on her forehead telling him she pondered that possibility. “That’s hard to believe. If they betray you--”

  “They won’t. They’re cyborgs.” Vapor squeezed her shoulder. “We have honor, remember?”

  “I would never forget that.”

  Silence stretched. His stubborn female didn’t share her plans with them.

  “Tell me one truth, Mira.” He needed something, anything to convince himself and the other cyborgs that she didn’t have to be killed.

  “The last time we played this game, beings died.” She shivered.

  “Some things are worth dying for,” Vapor echoed her earlier words.

  Her body stiffened. “You’d die for truth?”

  “Truth from you, I would.”

  She said nothing. The lines on her forehead deepened.

  “One truth,” he coaxed, wanting this.

  “Okay.” Mira sighed. “One truth.”

  There was another lengthy pause.

  “I wouldn’t hurt your friends. Ever,” she whispered.

  Part of him already knew that but it was a relief hearing the words.

  She didn’t consider selling his friends hurting them. Why? He mulled over that seemingly contradictory statement.

  “Are the cyborgs you’re selling slated for decommissioning?” he guessed.

  She stiffened. “This is why telling the truth isn’t a good idea. It leads to more questions and I’m forced to either lie or betray the beings I’m trying to save.”

  She’s trying to save beings, Thrasher pointed out.

  Vapor had picked up on that inadvertent confession also. His female wasn’t good at telling the truth.

  We know her intentions. The other cyborgs don’t. And they couldn’t tell the others because they had been sworn to secrecy. That frustrated Vapor.

  I’ll defend her, his friend assured him.

  Would Thrasher’s support be enough? Vapor folded Mira into his body, seeking to safeguard her from her many enemies, both human and cyborg.

  “We’re entering the compound.” She sounded sad to be home.

  Because she’d soon be alone, Vapor realized. He was returning to thousands of his brethren. She would be surrounded by beings who didn’t care about her.

  “You won’t leave the compound without me,” he reminded her. She was safe in the compound. No humans would dare hurt the Designer’s daughter. Vapor would protect her from his fellow cyborgs.

  “I won’t leave the compound without you.” She donned that cold mask he now understood was necessary, her body straightening.

  The ship stopped. Mira opened the door and stepped into the sun. They followed her. The compound appeared unchanged. The insurgents must not have breached its walls.

  Her father would have been notified of the attacks yet no beings greeted them. He hadn’t even sent a guard to check on his only offspring. She was on her own, had been for solar cycles, perhaps since her mom died.

  That she had survived this long was a testament to her strength.

  Mira strolled toward the final stage holding structure, her gorgeous ass swaying back and forth, back and forth, her head held high.

  She was magnificent, a female worthy of their respect. Vapor trailed her. Thrasher sauntered behind him. They couldn’t talk to her, couldn’t risk being overheard.

  Hun stood with two lower level trainers. He left the humans when he spotted Mira, lowering his gaze to her breasts. Vapor wanted to draw his daggers and cut the leer off the male’s face. She was his and his alone.

  “The Designer was surprised to find K000156 and K000158 missing this planet rotation,” Hun spoke to Mira’s chest.

  “My father can’t be expected to keep track of the comings and goings of each unit.” Ice dripped from her lips. “He has more important concerns to contemplate.”

  “Like the rebellion?”

  “Rebellion, bah.” Mira waved her right hand, dismissing the battles waging around them. “Those are humanoids. K000158 killed thirty-two of them and didn’t even break a sweat. Human warriors can take care of the rest. It’ll be good training for them.”

  “How many did K000156 kill?” Hun’s gaze slanted to Vapor.

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll require that unit later. It was…capable this planet rotation,” Mira said this as though she begrudged him that meager compliment. “It will accompany me when I leave the compound.”

  His female was honoring her vow to him. Vapor kept his face expressionless, hiding his satisfaction.

  “These are dangerous times.” Hun studied him. “The insurgents have retained control of four districts and—”

  “You’re boring me,” Mira interrupted. “Ensure it’s ready whenever I need it.” She flicked her fingers in Vapor’s direction before walking away.

  He watched his female out of the corner of his eyes, yearning to follow her. Whatever she was planning was certain to be dangerous and she was attempting it alone.

  Vapor slipped his hands into his pockets and curled his fingers around the hilts of his daggers. If anything happened to her, beings would die.

  Chapter Ten

  Vapor hadn’t betrayed her.

  She had made a mistake and he could have used that error against her. He could have relayed the information she shared, helping his friends and hurting her. But he hadn’t.

  Because he was a cyborg. Cyborgs had honor and integrity.

  Mira restored her appearance, reluctantly washing Vapor’s scent from her body. She donned one of her favorite fabric wraps, the white cloth clinging to her curves.

  Her ass was no longer sore from the spanking. Vapor’s nanocybotics continued to bubble within her, healing that damage, a reminder of her warrior male.

  She cared for him, would do anything to save his friends. That included facing her disapproving parent.

  Mira marched to her father’s working chambers and placed her hand on the access panel. “It’s me, sir.”

  “I asked you not to interrupt me while I’m working.” Her father’s voice was curt.

  That request sounded reasonable except he was always working. If she waited for a free expanse of time, she’d never speak with him. “It will only take a moment.”

  He sighed. “Enter.”

  The door slid open. Mira stepped into the chamber. Her father was seated behind a horizontal support built from primitive gears and other mechanics. His gray head was bent over a private viewsc
reen, his eyebrows knitted. He didn’t look up as she approached.

  She sat before him in one of the guest ass supports and waited. On the walls, footage of major steps in cyborg evolution played soundlessly on viewscreens. Specs about kill rates and repair capabilities scrolled across the bottom of the recording.

  There were no images of her mom and no images of Mira. She wasn’t secondary to his projects. She wasn’t a consideration at all. If it was possible, he ignored her.

  As he was doing now. Mira shifted in her seat. “Sir.”

  He held up his index finger and continued studying the private viewscreen. She pressed her lips together. Trying to speak with her father could take half a planet rotation.

  At least she hadn’t been blocked from his chambers. When she was young, after her mom died, she’d interrupted her father once too often and he’d banned her from this section of the domicile, locking the doors to her.

  She knew why. She’d been too needy. His cyborgs didn’t have that failing.

  Time passed. Mira stared at her father, trying to push thoughts into his brain.

  His heavy sigh echoed in the chamber. “I can’t concentrate with you staring at me.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.” That was a lie. She wasn’t sorry at all.

  “Now, I’ve lost the flow of logic.” He shook his head. “This is why I don’t like being interrupted.” He set the private viewscreen on the horizontal support. “What is it that’s so important, that’s more critical than the future of our species?”

  “I attended the Listmann party last planet rotation. The insurgents attacked the building, planting a bomb near an exterior wall.”

  Her father looked at her, his face blank, not one inkling of concern reflecting in his eyes.

  “I’m okay.” Mira’s tone was dry.

  “I assumed you were or you wouldn’t be here.” Not that he’d worry if she didn’t return. He had the power to save his wife’s life but hadn’t bothered to expend the energy or effort to do so, caring only of his beloved experiments. Mira doubted he’d be upset if his daughter disappeared. “This bombing news involves me—how?”

  “I took K000156 and K000158 to the event.”