Breathing Vapor

by Cynthia Sax

  “If they fooled the warriors,” Vapor amended. “Which is—”

  “Possible. You said it was possible.” Mira stepped out of the ship. He wanted to pull her back, to protect her from the sights she would see, the truths she’d learn.

  If she accepted those truths. Vapor followed her. She might not. Mira hadn’t believed her mother’s death, not at first, and she’d seen that with her own eyes.

  The streets were empty. There was no chatter of offspring, not even the rasp of a breath, other than their own. The white fabric of Mira’s garment stood out like a beacon. If the locals had fooled the lifeform scanners, they’d be able to see her from five structures away.

  “When I was last here, this street was crowded with beings, merchants selling their goods, children playing, mothers yelling at the older siblings to watch their younger brothers and sisters.” Mira turned slowly. “There was so much life, so much love.”

  Now, there was nothing, only the remnants of death. The structures were vacant, awaiting beings who would never return.

  A scrap of green fabric fluttered in the breeze, catching Vapor’s gaze. The material was positioned beside a small crimson puddle. He inhaled, identifying the source being.

  Fraggin’ hole. This would destroy his female.

  “Ulu.” Mira rushed to the puddle, picked up the cloth doll, brought it to her nose and breathed in deeply. “Why are you out here on your own? Pepe must be missing you.”

  Pepe wasn’t missing any being. Vapor said nothing, hovering near his female, waiting for her to realize this. He didn’t know what he’d do then, how he’d prevent her from falling apart.

  Mira’s gaze drifted to the puddle and her breath hitched. Her composure slipped for a heartbeat. Then she fixed her mask of indifference back in place.

  Except her mask was no longer whole. Vapor saw the cracks in it, sealed over with a smile that was too serene to be real.

  Mira’s chin tilted upward. “She might be hiding inside, too scared to retrieve her doll.”

  Vapor said nothing, allowing her that lie and she entered the small shop, navigating the debris. Her footwear was as impractical as always, slips of material safeguarding her from nothing. Contact with one sharp piece of metal would slice her pale feet open.

  He trailed her, ensuring she didn’t make such an error. The techniques of the human warriors didn’t impress him. They’d used excessive force as they blasted through the door, shooting multiple times when one well-placed projectile would have sufficed.

  Mira wandered through the crowded space. Rolls of fabric were propped against the walls. Containers of stones and feathers and other objects were stacked around them. Some were toppled, the contents littering the floor.

  “Aumakua was making this for me.” Mira touched a garment hanging on a fabricated figure. “See this M.” She traced the design hidden in the feathered top. “Tau Cetians believe that clothing should identify the wearer. That way, their deities don’t become confused. They have personal symbols. Since I didn’t have one, Aumakua used the first letter in my first name.”

  She said this as though it had been an honor, a gift she treasured. Vapor’s dread compounded. His female cared, perhaps too much.

  Mira tucked the doll into her pack and pulled at a loose fastener. A fastening device was attached to one end. “Oh.” She stared at it.

  Vapor stood beside her, not knowing the significance of the fastener.

  “This isn’t right.” Mira’s voice rose, a hint of hysteria clinging to her words. “This isn’t right at all. Aumakua was meticulous with her tools. She always put them away. Why would she leave this here?” Her fingers trembled. “Oh, fuck.” Her beautiful face crumpled. “She didn’t have any advance warning. She was working on my garment when they came.”

  “Mira, look at me,” Vapor commanded.

  She complied, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

  “Hold it together.” He gave her the speech he’d give a warrior. Because that’s what she was—a warrior. Her battles might not be deadly but they were as emotionally fierce.

  Mira sniffed once, twice, three times, held her breath, exhaled. She did this twice more and the tears receded. “Aumakua could have escaped with her male and with Pepe. They could have fled through the tunnels, made their way to safety.”

  “They didn’t escape.” He had to be cruel or his reckless female would search those tunnels, putting herself in the path of Humanoid Alliance warriors. “In your heart, you know this.”

  “They have to be okay, Vapor. I have the credits they need to move off planet.” She reached into her pack and removed a handful of chips. “See? I’ve been saving these for Aumakua. They can pay for transport, leave this place. Pepe will be protected, out of the reach of any warrior.”

  Shoot him now. Vapor would do anything to take the pain from his female’s expression. “You’ll use those for other beings.” She could sell more about-to-be-decommissioned cyborgs. Frag, she could sell him if it eased her distress. “Those beings—”

  “I’ll fail them too.” Mira’s shoulders slumped. “I fail every being.”

  The chips fell from her fingers. Vapor caught them, placed them back in the pack. The doll stared at him with round, lifeless eyes. “You don’t fail every being.”

  “Name one being I haven’t failed,” she mumbled, her chin tucked against her neck.

  “Me. I ordered you to hold it together and you are.”

  “Barely.” She didn’t meet his gaze.

  “Barely counts.” Vapor thought about other beings she’d interacted with. “You didn’t fail K017282,” he guessed, not knowing the full story behind the sale of the newly manufactured cyborg.

  “How do you know?”

  “I don’t know.” He had to be honest. Cyborgs didn’t lie. “But I kept in contact with him until he moved beyond our communication range. He was happy, cooing and making those newly manufactured unit sounds.”

  “Was he?” Mira stepped forward, pressing herself against him.

  He wrapped his arms around her. “Yes.”

  “I’m glad.” She sighed. “They were a very nice couple. He’ll be free and safe and loved.”

  “Loved?” Vapor snorted softly. “They’re human. He’s a cyborg.” Humans didn’t love cyborgs. They used them like the weapons they were designed to be, punishing them when they malfunctioned, decommissioning them when they had no farther need for them.

  “I’m human and I loved K017282.” Her voice warmed. With love. For a newly manufactured cyborg. He struggled to wrap his processors around that. “How could you not adore him? He has those chubby cheeks and curly brown hair and dark eyes.”

  Vapor didn’t have chubby cheeks but he did have curly brown hair and dark eyes. Could she love him also?

  Did he want her to?

  “We should return to the ship.” There were no signs of life around them but that could change quickly. The Humanoid Alliance warriors could perform another sweep of the area. He didn’t want them anywhere near his female.

  “Pepe—”

  “There’s nothing more we can do here.” He stepped back and looked down at Mira. Frag. Her eyes had that shine again. “And it isn’t safe.”

  “I don’t want to go back to the compound.”

  He didn’t either. “We don’t have to go back but we can’t stay here.” He turned her toward the exit. “We have to leave.”

  “Give me a moment.” Mira plucked the doll from her pack and rushed to a small ass support positioned beside a much larger one. “In case, she returns.” She placed the doll on the seat, propping its head against the armrest.

  Vapor waited. Mira gazed at the two ass supports for a moment and then adjusted the doll’s head, turning it to face the door. It looked like it was waiting for the humanoid offspring to step over the threshold, to scoop it into her arms and play with it again.

  That wouldn’t happen.

  His female must have reached that same realization. Her bottom
lip quivered.

  “Mira--”

  “One moment.” She held up one of her index fingers.

  “One moment,” Vapor conceded, unable to deny her anything.

  Mira crouched down beside the tiny ass support. “Take care of her, Ulu.” She gazed intently into doll’s eyes, as though she was trying to will that request into being. “Tell Pepe I love her, that she’s my ho'aloha also.” She glanced up at Vapor. “That means friend.”

  “I know that.” His voice was gruff.

  “When she held out her arms to me, I wanted to pick her up, to tickle her tummy and make her laugh. I really did.” Mira sniffled. “But I had a role to play. And now. And now.” Her bottom lip quivered.

  And now it was too late.

  If she finished that sentence, she’d cry and he couldn’t allow that. He’d given her his vow that she wouldn’t fall apart in public.

  “Hold it together, female.” Vapor scooped Mira into his arms. She didn’t make a sound, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t disobey me again.” He stomped through the rumble, crushing the debris under his boot heels.

  “Again?”

  “I told you to leave and you didn’t.” He entered the ship, carrying her.

  “Oh.” Her curves bounced against his muscle as he sat. “But—”

  “No buts.” Vapor released her. “No excuses. Undress.” He entered routes into the ship’s control panel. They’d circle the compound, passing through already purified districts, constantly moving yet in little danger.

  “Undress?”

  “You don’t want me to repeat that order.” He turned his hands, showing her his palms.

  She blushed a pretty pink. “No, I don’t.”

  That was a lie. He breathed in the scent of her arousal. His female wanted his hands on her ass and he wouldn’t disappoint her. He’d reprimand her until the tears fell. Then he’d hold her as she cried, grieving for the family she’d been unable to save.

  “I won’t disobey you ever again.” Mira sounded as though she believed this untruth.

  She unfastened her garment, shimmied until the fabric fell to her feet, revealing white skin, pink nipples, a triangle of fine blonde hair. Her breasts were large, her waist rounded, her hips perfect for grasping.

  He gazed at her with open admiration, humbled that she was his. A weaker female might have fidgeted while a male perused her naked body. His little human stood proudly, with her arms at her sides, her head held high.

  “Come here.” He patted his thighs.

  Mira hesitated for a heartbeat and glided forward, walking as though she was accepting an honor, not receiving a reprimand. She lowered her lush form over his legs.

  Vapor cursed his body armor, wishing the contact were skin on skin. He was aroused even with the barrier, his cock pressing against the protective garment.

  Vapor shifted his bountiful female until her ass was presented to him and she was slightly off-balance, her feet dangling above the floor of the ship. He slid his palms along her skin. Her muscles were tight, the strain of the planet rotation reflecting in her physique.

  She curved her fingers over his knees, holding onto him, her blonde curls covering her face. Moisture glistened on her inner thighs.

  “You want this.” He cupped her ass and squeezed.

  She wiggled. “I don’t.”

  “Liar.” Vapor cuffed her, using a fraction of his strength. She cried out, jerking. “I smell your need.” He lowered his hand again, the sound of skin connecting with skin echoing in the space.

  “I don’t need this.” Her protest was weaker.

  “Yes.” Smack. “You.” Smack. “Do.” He admired the pink handprints on her pale curves. Every being seeing her ass would know she was his.

  “Vapor.” His female tilted her hips, pushing herself upward.

  He accepted that delectable offer, walloping her rear. Her curves jiggled. His hand heated. Her cries permeated the silence. Not once did she ask him to stop.

  Because she wanted this, needed this. He knew that as he knew the weight of her daggers, the range of his senses, the limits of his own body.

  Mira’s voice became more and more strained. He increased his tempo, driving her relentlessly toward the breaking point.

  “Can’t.” Her breath hitched. “Can’t.”

  “Don’t hold it in, female.” Vapor leaned over her, splaying his fingers to cover more skin. “Let it go. Give me everything.”

  “Can’t.”

  “You can.” He struck the crack of her ass, catching her pussy lips with one of his fingertips, and she screamed, bucking, writhing, coming hard.

  Frag. She was beautiful. Vapor placed one hand between her shoulder blades and the other on the small of her back, pinning her body to his, ensuring she didn’t fall off his lap and hurt herself.

  Her screams turned to sobs. She hugged his legs and cried and cried and cried. He stroked her back, awed by the force of her grief.

  She wasn’t cold. Far from it. His female felt, tremendously. She drenched his body armor with tears, her form shaking, her voice growing hoarse.

  Her intensity of feeling frightened him. Vapor murmured nonsense and rubbed her skin, trying to calm her.

  Then, when he thought he couldn’t take another sob, when he teetered on the edge of concern-fueled madness, her sorrow lessened, easing. Mira quieted, the stiffness in her form now liquid.

  “They’re dead, Vapor,” she whispered.

  “I know, female.” He drew Mira upward and positioned her sideways on his lap, hanging her ass in the air, tucking her head under his chin. She was small and soft and his. Vapor would battle the universe to keep her safe and would do anything to make her smile again. “I know.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mira’s eyes stung and her ass was on fire. She deserved the punishment. She’d failed the beings she cared about.

  The pain made her guilt manageable. She rested against her cyborg warrior, shielded by his strength, comforted by his presence.

  He’d earned her trust and she’d tell him everything. “I wasn’t able to sell your friends.” Vapor stiffened. “The best I could do was a ten planet rotation loan to the socialite of my choice.”

  He said nothing.

  “Can they escape in that length of time?” Or was she risking everything for nothing?

  “Is that your plan—my friends escape?”

  The disbelief in his voice hurt her. He continued to think of her as merciless. “That’s my hope.”

  There was another long pause.

  “They could escape now,” Vapor admitted.

  “Not now.” Mira shook her head. “My father would decommission the rest of the batch. You’d die.” She couldn’t bear to think of that possibility. “They have to wait until you deploy.”

  “They won’t have to wait long. We’re deploying next planet rotation.”

  She glanced up at him. “Yes, you are.” She summoned a smile, hiding her sadness. “You’ve been monitoring Humanoid Alliance communications again.”

  “We always monitor them.” His dark eyes gleamed. “Information is power.”

  Her father had made the K model cyborgs much too advanced. “And my communications, do you monitor them too?”

  Vapor dipped his head. “We knew you weren’t selling the cyborgs.”

  “We? You shared that information with the others?”

  “Ace relays the information to all of the cyborgs.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “The information is in the system. Any being with the ability to bypass security can access it.”

  Mira thought about the messages she’d sent, the ice-cold negotiations, the harsh statements, the act she maintained. “Your friends must hate me.”

  “They don’t know what you have planned.” Vapor gazed at her. “When the cyborgs escape, the Humanoid Alliance will suspect you’re involved. You arranged the loans.”

  “I’ll lie, as I always do. The council members aren’t as perceptive as you are.�
�� No being was. “They’ll believe me.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  She shrugged. “Some things are worth dying for.”

  “You can’t die.” Vapor captured her face between his big hands. “I won’t allow you to take that risk.”

  That sounded almost as though he cared. “Your friends are slated to be decommissioned. It’s either risk my life or let them die.”

  “I have to protect you. It’s my mission.”

  She was merely his mission. Mira’s heart squeezed. “I release you from your obligation.”

  “I’ll never be released from it.” He swooped downward. Their lips connected. She opened her mouth and he surged inside, taking, claiming, keeping. Their tongues entwined. His nanocybotics sizzled and popped, caressing her all over.

  She moaned, wiggling closer to him. Vapor’s fingers sank into her curls, his grip on her excitingly tight, as though he never wanted to let her go.

  Their time together was coming to an end. They had the remainder of this planet rotation, a sliver of the next, and then a lifespan of loneliness. Mira grasped his shoulders, pressing her palms against his battle armor, and she huffed into his mouth, needing to feel his bare skin.

  Vapor’s lips curled upward. “Impatient female.” He jostled her as he removed that barrier between them, tossing the heavy protective garment to the side.

  “You make me lose control.” She splayed her fingers over his chest, savoring his strength, his warmth. “Before I met you, I prided myself on being cold and emotionless.”

  “You were never that way.” He dragged his lips over her neck, sending shivers down her spine. “That was a lie.” Vapor sucked on the curve where her neck met her shoulder and she quivered. “This is the truth.”

  He pulled her closer to him, his hard shaft fitting snugly against her feminine folds. “You’re hot, passionate.” He lifted her up and down, up and down, rubbing her along him, teasing her clit with his cock head, her entrance with the possibility of fullness. “Mine.”

  She was his and when he left, she’d lose a part of herself. Mira undulated against her cyborg, caressing his chest with her breasts, his cock with her pussy. No other being saw her as he did. No other being freed her emotions, her truth.