Planet 9 (The Dipole series Book 2)
Page 14
He scrambled out of his seat, feet skittering on the deck floor.
"Hey Junebug, come here. I got something I want to do."
He strolled to a stop in front of the AI in the cargo hold. She was seated in a lotus pose on the long bench, staring at the curves of her hand in her lap.
"What are you doing?"
"I find my new structure fascinating."
"So do I," he wiggled his eyebrows. "Speaking of structures and shapes, since you were designed for a certain act, I was kinda wondering if we could...you know...do that act?"
The AI looked up from her hand and stared at the pilot as he shifted from one foot to the other in front of her.
"Are you asking if I will have sex with you?"
"Yeah," he stuttered. "It's in your program."
Junebug closed her eyes. He watched the lids jump and twitch as she processed the terabytes of data stored in her neural processor.
Tinker studied her face. It looked so real, but he knew the skin was synthetic fiber, made to feel human like and warm. There were no wrinkles, so spots, nothing that came from just being alive. The surface was smooth, unblemished, from the perfectly formed widow's peak at her hairline down to the curve of her breasts that plumped the edges of her skintight flight suit.
He could feel a stirring in his pants.
"Well," he purred in a deep husky voice.
Her eyes flicked open and a grin appeared.
"I still have that programming."
The swelling surged like a dust tsunami that the winds of Mars occasionally kicked up to wash over the domes in seconds.
"Alright," he cheered. "Then you know the original programing won’t let you say no. Let's go to my Captain's Quarters."
Tinker shot a look over his shoulder at Bat, beaming in triumph. The former guard sat in a jump seat next to the door like a statue, still and unmoving, watching the exchange with his impassive poker face.
Junebug glanced up at the pilot.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“But-”
“The lady said no,” Bat said.
“She’s not a lady,” Tinker whined. “She’s a sexbot.”
“I am an advanced artificial intelligence,” Junebug stated as she stood and moved to the cockpit.
“And I have a fleet.”
Tinker trailed after her. Mona Lisa squeezed past them so they could continue their discussion in relative privacy. She listened as Tinker ticked off the reasons he deserved a shot.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
“While those two get acquainted will you tell me a story?”
Mona Lisa and Bat sat across from each other in the cargo hold of the ship.
He perched in the jump seat next to the airlock in his normal spot. She sat with her legs folded in the lotus pose on the bench.
“What story would you like to hear? I’m not much of a bard.”
“I want to know the story of you, she said. You keep chasing me when I run away. I catch you looking at me and it is like no other man has ever looked at me before.”
“I’ve seen plenty of men look at you,” the corner of his mouth tilted up in the hint of a grin.
“I don't mean like that,” she smiled back. There was a hint of sadness in her smile.
“The way you look at me isn't like you want to throw me down and ravish me. You make me feel like you see a person.”
“That's because you are a person. To me.”
“See,” she said. “Like that. When you say stuff like that it makes you sound like a robot. But I know you are not. Or if you are you are one of the most advanced models ever created.”
“I am not a robot,” he said.
“But you are a Regenerist. What is that?”
Bat took a long slow breath and let it out between his lips. He debated for a moment lying. And dismissed it just as quickly. He could lie as well as any lawyer but for her he did not want to.
“A long time ago-” he started to say.
“In a Galaxy far away?”
He looked up to see her grinning.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You don't look anxious, you look like you're about to lay down a royal flush and take the pot. But there is something about the way you said it.”
He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck then looked at her.
“Several hundred years ago Earth was a mess. The Mars program was enacted and colonists were sent to terraform the planet. When they arrived, they discovered a bounty of resources in the forms of minerals and precious metals. Corporations got involved and as throughout history War soon followed.”
She watched the tension ease out of his shoulders as he relaxed into the story.
“I can only speculate as to how we arrived two that point. But a group of genetically designed and modified embryos were created. The first generation or point zero were grown in test tubes. They were not viable. The next group of twelve was implanted in female prisoners. Prisoners from the same institution where you and I met. One of them was my mother.”
“Were you raised in prison?”
He shook his head.
“My mother was a surrogate as where the eleven others. I never met her. I only learned of her involvement three decades ago.”
“When you were a kid?”
“No, I am as I was. I am a lot older than I look.”
He let a mysterious grin drift across his cheeks.
“You're not going to tell me are you,” she smiled back.
She liked the way the grin looked on his face.
“You wouldn't believe me.”
“You tell me and I'll tell you,” she winked.
“I am almost two hundred years old.”
She blinked.
“I told you you wouldn't believe me,” he said.
“Regeneration,” she said with wonder in her voice. “You can regenerate. That's why you don't get hurt when your shot.”
He nodded.
“That and more.”
“You were designed to do what? A soldier?”
“You’re very good at putting together pieces of a puzzle,” he complimented her. “The original twelve where the beginning of the troops.”
Mona Lisa felt her cheeks grow warm as she flushed. Buster had never given her a compliment outside of her tight ass or great boobs. Occasionally he told her the sex was good, though they did it often enough for her to know he enjoyed it. But no man had complimented anything other than her looks before, and certainly no one took the time to notice that her mind was sharp.
Another puzzle piece fell into place.
“Did you wipe some of Junebug’s memory?”
“My memory cannot be wiped,” said Junebug as she stepped into the cargo hold.
“But you can't remember some things.”
They watched the newly-formed Android’s eyes flick up into her head as she attempted two explore the fragments of the hard drive that was her brain.
“My memory is complete,” she said
She looked at Bat.
“Is that correct?”
“It is correct Junebug,” he answered. “You have knowledge of everything you need to know.”
“That is what my records indicate. I know everything I need to know.”
“Well I know I need a drink,” Tinker stepped in and pushed Junebug to one side his hands lingering on her hips.
“Who wants to join me?”
The others chimed in with their assent. Junebug tilted her head.
“We are getting an incoming message,” she said.
“Another derelict ship to join our Convoy?” Tinker asked.
“No,” she said. “There is an emergency on the space Hub. Mr. Kim requests We join him.”
Bat caught Mona Lisa's eye.
“I think we're all caught up on favors,” he said. “He can't hold knowledge over my head.”
“What knowledge?” Tinker asked.
“The thing
about favors,” Mona Lisa said. “Is that when you do them for someone else they then owe you. It might be a good thing for one of the three most powerful men in space to owe a favor.”
Bat shrugged his rounded shoulders and nodded.
“You're the boss,” he said.
“Hey wait,” Tinker argued. “Did we vote on this? Why does she get to be the boss? It's my ship, I should be the boss.”
Bad ignored him.
“Junebug can you set the course from here?”
“It has been done before you requested,” the Android answered.
“Looks like there may be a new boss on board,” Mona Lisa said. “Now about those drinks.”
THE END
Thanks for grabbing PLANET 9, book II in the Dipole series. Could you leave a review on Amazon if you enjoyed it? Just a few short words help and Authors thrive on word of mouth. Cheers!
Look for PLANET 10 out in the next few weeks to keep the adventure going. In the meantime, check out some more series here:
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