Defying Death

by Cynthia Sax

  “Don’t look like that.” She shook her head. Her curls rubbed against his skin. “This encounter with the Retriever had nothing to do with you smiling.” The timing was coincidence. That was all. “Even if it did, we got through it relatively unscathed. You can reveal your feelings. We’ll survive it. I promise you.”

  The hard set of his lips softened.

  The tension inside her stomach eased. He would smile again. She’d ensure that happened. “I helped you determine that the ship belonged to a Retriever.” She added value in a small way. “Admit it. I was useful.”

  He made a noise that she construed as agreement.

  “Yes, I was very helpful.” She nodded. “We’ll work together going forward. We’ll have to. In a little over a planet rotation, we’ll land on Carinae E. It’s a primitive, harsh planet.”

  Airspace wasn’t monitored, which appealed to her cyborg. There were great expanses of terrain with very few inhabitants. A ship could land and depart without detection.

  The databases also described the planet as lacking sanitation and liquid purification systems. That intrigued Tifara.

  “The locals could have viruses humanoids haven’t seen in solar cycles.” A thrill zinged through her. “Like Silean 5692.”

  Death grunted. He didn’t sound as enthused as she was about that prospect.

  “That virus has a cure but the local population might not have it.” They were isolated. “We could share it with them and save millions, thousands.” She thought about the number more. “High hundreds.” The planet wasn’t very populated. “Of beings.”

  She would fulfill her destiny. Tifara gazed at Death. She wouldn’t feel as guilty about her split focus, the time she spent with him.

  “We have to communicate. We’ll be exposed to the viruses also and I don’t have a handheld to scan beings.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “I know you’re a handheld but I’d feel happier if I had that ability.” She also didn’t want him sticking his tongue in any other female’s mouth. “If you feel at all ill, you should tell me and I will tell you.”

  “We won’t feel ill.” Death pressed his lips against her forehead. “I’m a cyborg, immune to disease and you won’t be exiting the ship.”

  Tifara frowned. “You agreed that I wouldn’t leave your side.” They were a team.

  “I agreed that I’d always protect you. The ship will be surrounded by sensors. No being will get close to you.”

  “Hmmm…” She had to convince him to change the plan. Admittedly, she wasn’t experienced with foraging for nutrition on a primitive planet. But if her cyborg left the ship solo, her knowledge of him told her some being would die.

  And she also didn’t want to be alone. That scared her.

  “Sleep.” He rubbed sensuous circles over her back.

  “I’m not tired.” That was a lie. Tifara yawned. She was very tired. The excitement around the Retriever ship had worn off, leaving her exhausted. “We should talk about this.”

  “You should rest.”

  “You won’t kill any beings.”

  “I’ll wake you if I do.” His voice was low and deep.

  “I’ll heal those beings,” Tifara warned, her eyelids lowering.

  “You can try.”

  Was that amusement she heard in his voice? “I’ll succeed.” She snuggled against him. He’d smiled earlier and now he was on the verge of laughing. “I’m a great medic.”

  “You’re much more than that.” Death’s words were barely audible. “You’re everything to me, my Tifara, my entire universe. You scramble my logic, craze me with desire, make me ache with wanting.”

  “Sounds…painful.” She forced herself to concentrate. “I can…cure…you.”

  His chest shook. “I don’t want you to cure me, my little medic. You bring me a happiness I’ve searched my entire lifespan for, a peace I never processed was possible.”

  Death could talk when he thought no one was listening. “I…”

  “Sleep.”

  She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to hear more of what her normally silent cyborg thought and felt. But the blackness was closing in on her and they had a lifespan for that discussion. “Hmmm…okay, sleep.”

  Chapter Nine

  Death bred with his female twice more, openly displaying his lust, his caring, his happiness. He’d shown his emotions previously and they’d survived, as she’d sarcastically pointed out, and the incident with the Retriever had shown him how fleeting a lifespan could be. He didn’t want to leave her with any doubt about how important she was to him.

  While she slept, he inserted input tubes in his wrists, restoring his energy and nutrition levels, ensuring he was in optimal shape to protect her, if that was necessary. He also kissed, cuddled and caressed her, savoring her softness, reveling in her beauty, trying to find logic in the disjointed words spilling from her lips.

  He never stopped monitoring the space around their ship. The Retriever could have been a viable threat. The enemy could attack at any time.

  He wasn’t surrounded by his cyborg brethren, didn’t have the security their extra surveillance would give him. Death was solely responsible for his female’s safety. He had to remain vigilant.

  Before the rest cycle ended, he removed the input tubes, cleaned her, and dressed her as he usually did and set her on her own chair.

  Both of their bodies protested the distance between them. He ached, the body armor he’d donned irritating him. She stirred, her mumbling gaining fervor.

  The separation was necessary. Showing emotion during breeding might be acceptable. Showing his caring at other times might get his female killed.

  Tifara woke, chattering about cures and viruses, topics he suspected she processed while she slept. She nibbled on the nutrition bar he’d cut up for her and lightened his soul with her smiles and laughter.

  Death no longer noticed the silence on his transmission lines. He worked on the private viewscreen he was modifying for her, listening, learning about the female who held his heart.

  It bothered him that she continued to search for a way to sever their connection. But he wasn’t overly concerned. He doubted that was possible.

  She was created for him and he was created for her.

  It was their destiny. He’d grown to understand and appreciate that human concept.

  “Carinae E is extremely hot,” Tifara shared information he already knew. “We have to keep hydrated.”

  “No, we don’t. Cyborgs adapt to different conditions.” He’d fought in hotter temperatures, battling enemies native to that climate. The Humanoid Alliance saw cyborgs as weapons of war, not hesitating to send them where humans feared to go. “And you’re remaining on the ship.”

  “We’re a team.” Her jaw jutted. “I’m coming with you.”

  Fraggin’ hole. She was stubborn. His female might be soft in form but she had a determination that would daunt a weaker male.

  It didn’t deter Death. “Carinae E, as you’ve mentioned three times this planet rotation, is a primitive planet. The humanoids occupying it are known for being violent and hostile toward visitors.” He reached over, lifted Tifara and set her on his lap. “You’re a fragile human, easily damaged.” He circled her tiny wrists, remembering how the Palavian warrior had grabbed her, the fear for her that he’d felt. “And you’re slow. When we take the nutrition bars, the humanoids will detect you.”

  He planned to rush to the storage facilities, grab what he needed, and return to the ship, everything done at cyborg speed. They wouldn’t realize he’d been there.

  “We are not stealing their nutrition bars.” She shook her head, her brown curls bouncing against her cheeks. “We’ll negotiate for them like civilized beings, giving them something of value in exchange.”

  “I’m giving them their lives.” His plan had been crafted with his kind-hearted medic in mind. Death brushed an errant curl away from her eyes. If he were alone, he’d kill them all. But if he were alone
, he also wouldn’t require the nutrition bars in the first place. “And you’re not leaving the ship.”

  Her lips parted.

  “I won’t relent on that.” He couldn’t. Her lifespan was too precious to risk.

  Silence stretched.

  Her bottom lip curled more and more.

  Death wanted to suck the lip into his mouth. Instead, he waited. His female had something more to say. She always did.

  “I don’t want to be alone.” She whispered those heart-wrenching words.

  Death hadn’t expected that. He curled his fingers, digging his fingernails into his palms, resisting his yearning to comfort her, to tell her he wouldn’t leave her alone.

  He had to briefly abandon her. For her safety.

  “I haven’t been alone since…”

  She hadn’t been alone since the outbreak on her home planet. She didn’t have to complete her sentence. He knew that was what she had planned to say, as he knew what it had cost his proud medic to make that confession.

  While under the control of the Humanoid Alliance, Death had marched, with his cyborg brethren, through an urban center devastated by battle. The stench had been almost unbearable. The silence had been eerie. The pathways had been littered with rotting humanoid corpses, offspring, females, the elderly, the innocent.

  It had sickened his soul and he’d merely been traveling through the center. Tifara had lived in a place like that, solitary, for planet rotations, the experience forever changing her.

  If he left her in their ship, she’d worry he wouldn’t return, that she’d once again be the sole survivor, alone, without hope. She’d revisit the horrors she’d experienced as an offspring, over and over, chewing on her lips, every moment he was away stretching like an eternity. That would damage her emotionally.

  Death couldn’t allow that.

  “You’ll follow my instructions,” he relented, his voice gruff. “And while we’re outside the ship, you won’t speak.”

  “I won’t.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him enthusiastically, all of her curves jiggling. “I won’t say a word.”

  Death turned his head and gazed at her, not hiding his disbelief. It was impossible for Tifara to be silent. She’d break her vow before she left the ramp.

  “I won’t.” Her face beamed with sincerity. His delusional female genuinely believed she could go moments without chattering. “I’ll be so quiet; you won’t even know I’m there.”

  He always knew where she was. He would locate her in a crowded chamber by her scent alone. “You’ll obey me.”

  “Yes, sir.” She tapped her fingers to her forehead, her salute more endearing than deferential. “Anything you say, I’ll do.”

  Death didn’t trust in that promise either. His female had her own processors. She wouldn’t blindly follow his commands.

  Had he made another mistake, agreeing to this? Was he putting her in danger? He wouldn’t survive losing her. She was his joy, his warmth.

  “I’ll do as you say.” She nodded. “And you won’t kill anyone.”

  He said nothing, unable to give his female that promise.

  “There’s no need to. I’m a medic.” She preened a little at that pronouncement, his female’s pride in her abilities adorable. “Medics are always in demand. I’ll heal their wounded and they’ll pay us in nutrition bars.”

  “You aren’t touching any of them.” Death told her. She had barely survived the incident with the Palavian. The Carinae were reportedly fiercer and there were rumors of cloning and genetic manipulation. Both made an enemy more dangerous.

  “You don’t want me touching another male.” Her eyes narrowed.

  That was true also.

  “I’m a medic. It isn’t sexual.”

  “If you touch another male or another male touches you, I’ll rip his arms off, all of his arms.” Death held her gaze. Merely the thought of another male touching her enraged him. “That’s a vow, my female.”

  “You’re a savage being.”

  “You like that I’m a savage being.” He slid one of his hands between her thighs. The fabric covering her pussy was damp.

  “Stop groping me.” She batted his arm. “We’re having a conversation.”

  And she couldn’t have a conversation while he was groping her. Death knew that about his small human. With one stroke of his fingers, her big brain shut down. “Tell me you won’t touch another male and I’ll remove my hand.”

  She gazed at him, her eyes sparking with rebellion.

  He pressed his palm against her.

  Her musk intensified, hanging heavily in the air. She squirmed yet didn’t relent. His female could be as obstinate as he was. He admired that about her.

  “Give me your vow, female.” Death placed his thumb on her cloth-covered clit.

  She sucked in her breath. “I vow.” She broke, much to his disappointment. “I won’t touch another male. I’ll only tend to the females.”

  He removed his hand, raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled, savoring her aroma. “You won’t tend any beings.” Females, he knew from past battles, could be even more violent than males. “I’ll give them my services in exchange for the nutrition bars.”

  And then he would kill them. He’d have to. They would have seen his face, realized he was a cyborg. To not kill them would put his brethren in danger.

  He might be in exile but he’d never betray his fellow warriors.

  “You won’t give the Carinae your sexual services.” His female’s face darkened. “You’ve already infected me. I won’t allow you to infect another being.”

  “I didn’t infect you.” He strapped his arms around her. “I bred with you.”

  “I don’t care what you call it.” She pushed on his shoulders, trying to free herself. “We’ve narrowed the transfer of the virus down to physical contact. Until I determine its side effects, you’re not touching any other being.”

  Death suspected she’d never make that determination. His female was as possessive of him as he was of her. “I’m not interested in breeding with another being,” he reassured her. “If I touch someone, it will be to kill him or her. You’re the only female I want sucking my cock.”

  “I’m not sucking your cock.” Tifara slapped his chest.

  “Hmmm…” He slid his hand between her thighs. The fabric was even more soaked than it had been a moment ago. “If you don’t suck my cock, how will you detect whether or not my flavor is changing?”

  Her struggles eased. “It is changing. I noticed—” She frowned at him. “Don’t distract me. We’re having a conversation.”

  “Our conversation is over.” He nudged her white coat off her shoulders. “You’ll accompany me when I leave the ship, staying close by my side. I’ll kill any beings the Carinae wish disposed of. They’ll give us nutrition bars.” He’d kill all of the Carinae. “And we’ll leave the planet before their sun sets.”

  “No.” She wiggled away from him. “You’re not killing any beings.” She stood.

  “They will all die.” This discussion frustrated him, as did her desire to escape him. “If the humanoids know cyborgs have free will, millions of my brethren will be in danger.”

  His little human severed a piece of medical tape, reached upward, and placed it on his cheek, covering his model number. “There. They can’t confirm that you’re a cyborg.” She appeared enchantingly proud of herself. “They might suspect but they won’t know.”

  She was correct. They wouldn’t know for certain that he was a cyborg. His Tifara was an intelligent being. It took all of his processors to counter her demands. He enjoyed that challenge. “We need the nutrition bars. You wanted me to give them something in exchange.”

  “Offer them another skill.”

  Death frowned. “Cyborgs are skilled at killing and breeding.”

  “No breeding either.” His Tifara waggled her right index finger at him. “No killing. No breeding. Find something else.” She looked around them. “Fix their c
ommunicators or something.”

  He could do that. Humans were inept with devices. “I’ll fix their communicators. They’ll give us nutrition bars. We’ll leave the planet and you’ll suck my cock.”

  “I’m not sucking your cock.” She plopped her gorgeous ass down in her chair, all of her curves moving enticingly. “Get that thought out of your brain.”

  Death had a processor as well as a brain and there was no erasing that thought from either. He’d hard coded it into the deepest part of him, fusing it permanently to his circuits.

  His Tifara would suck his cock. He reached for the half-modified private viewscreen, a small smile curling his lips.

  “I don’t know why you’re smiling,” she muttered. “It’s not happening.”

  It was happening. Death left his chair, wandered to the back of the ship, found what he was looking for, and returned, plunking the medic pack on the console in front of his female, a gift and a distraction wrapped in one fabric container.

  “What is this?” She leaned forward.

  Death reclaimed his seat. She was a clever female. She knew what it was.

  “A medic pack?” Tifara rummaged through it, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Why didn’t you mention you had one of these?”

  There was no need to mention it. He was a cyborg. His body repaired itself. She was his female. His nanocybotics repaired her.

  “I can heal any wounded beings we meet.” She hummed with joy.

  She wasn’t touching any beings they met but it would give them goods to trade if that became necessary, if, for some unknown reason, he couldn’t negotiate with his daggers.

  “It doesn’t have a handheld, unfortunately.” Some of her excitement dimmed. “I know, I know. A good medic shouldn’t have to rely on devices.” She carried both sides of the conversation herself. “But devices make any diagnosis faster and time counts when it comes to viruses. Look at how similar Silean 5692 and Silean 5693 are.”

  Tifara listed the similarities in symptoms and then the differences in treatment, explaining how mixing the two strains up could kill the patient.

  Death listened, watching her constantly moving mouth and pictured her lips curved around his shaft, her eyes soft with caring.