Embrace the Romance

by S. E. Smith

  Safe from what? What was she forgetting?

  Pat. Pat. Something pawed at her feathers. Then a rumble. Pat. Pat. Poke. Something sharp, like a claw scraped across her face.

  Claw.

  Ka-Tȇ.

  Jungle.

  Cage. Death. Her lids sprang open. Two green Ka-Tȇ eyes stared into hers. The creature yawned, revealing a mouthful of small, sharp teeth, and then struck out with its paw.

  Solia shrieked. The creature somersaulted and disappeared. Dragging her broken, torn wing, Solia stumbled for the door and plowed into a massive chest.

  “What’s happened? What’s wrong?” A man gripped her shoulders. Though he barricaded the way, his presence exuded safety, calmed her panic. More memories flashed. Racing through the jungle. This man carrying her to a pod. Bodies hitting the window, scratching, clawing, trying to crack it open. The man—Guy— had rescued her from Katnia. The floor hummed beneath her feet. She was on a ship now.

  But one of the creatures—“K-K-Ka-Tȇ. Here.”

  “What? Where?” Disbelief knit his brows.

  Solia gulped air and pointed. “Under the berth. It’s little, but I woke up, and it was on me, scratching my face. It had green eyes. Claws.” She patted her cheeks. There didn’t seem to be any injury.

  “Mittzi.” Guy shook his head. He got down on all fours to peer under the bunk.

  “Be careful.”

  He reached under the berth and pulled out a ball of gray fur with white feet. Maybe Ka-Tȇ were born furry but lost their hair as they matured? The creature spoke, emitting an odd little meow noise. Neither language training nor the implant provided a translation. It clung to Guy, showing no sign of savagery, but maybe viciousness developed with time, too.

  “It’s not a Ka-Tȇ, it’s a kitten, a baby cat,” Guy said, his tone gentle. “Don’t you have felines on Faria?”

  “That’s a cat?” She eyed the long tail, the fluffy fur, the round, whiskered face. This was one of the animal species humans adopted as pets? “No, I’ve heard about them, but we don’t have any kind of feline on Faria.”

  “Her name is Mittzi. She’s not a threat. Do you want to pet her?” He held out the animal. Cupped in his hands, the kitten appeared tiny, but looks could be deceiving. Guy was the largest man she’d ever met, and he had big hands to match. Next to him, anything would seem little. Even a Ka—kitten.

  “No!” She shrank back. Now that she was awake, and the animal wasn’t sitting on her chest a hair’s distance from her face, it looked harmless, but she couldn’t bring herself to touch it.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I left Mittzi with you for company. I had no idea she would frighten you.”

  “It was touching my face—staring at me with those…eyes.” She realized how ridiculous she sounded. With a better glimpse—from a safe distance—she could see the vast dissimilarity between this animal and the Ka-Tȇ. Still… “Aren’t cats predators?” She recalled the little bit she knew of the animals native to Earth.

  “Most domesticated cats will hunt if they’re allowed to roam, but unless you’re a mouse or a small bird, you don’t have to worry. Cats are also prey animals. Coyotes, even large dogs, will kill cats.”

  At the top of the Katnian food chain, Ka-Tȇ had no predators. Unless you counted this man. He’d faced them and survived. Not only that, he’d taken out several.

  “I’ll stow Mittzi in my cabin,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

  Solia pressed against the wall. She hated feeling so afraid, so out of control. “Wait!” she called before he disappeared.

  He glanced at her. Solia crept forward. Though everything in her cried out against it, she reached out a trembling hand. Guy smiled encouragingly. She touched the kitten.

  “Meow?”

  She yanked her hand away and fled for the corner.

  “Back in a few,” Guy said.

  The door closed behind him. Her heart thudded in her ears. I did it. I touched it. The small feat represented a major victory. Solia wrapped her good wing around her body. The broken one drooped, and she couldn’t move it, but at least it didn’t hurt anymore. She eyed the healing slashes across her body. The gaping cuts had knit together? Already? How long have I been here? She rubbed her forehead.

  Guy reentered. “I’m sorry. Cats bear a faint resemblance to Ka-Tȇ—the hairless ones more so—but it never occurred to me Mittzi would scare you.”

  “It’s okay. It…Mittzi…surprised me. How long have I been here? We’re on a larger ship, right?”’

  He nodded. “We’re on my shuttle. You’ve been here about two hours.”

  “That’s all?” She studied her arms and legs, which the Ka-Tȇ had slashed. From the healing state of her injuries, she would have guessed days.

  “I injected you with nanos.”

  “Nanos?”

  “Nano-temp,” he amended. “Short-acting nanocytes. Your body will flush them out, but before that happens, they’ll boost healing. You lost a lot of blood, so I gave you a shot of hemogen. I’m happy to see your natural color returning.”

  “Are you a physician?”

  “Medic, MMU. Former Terran United military. I served on a mobile med unit in the field.”

  “And now you…”

  “Do other things,” he said. “You should get back into bed. If you’re moving around, you could do additional damage to your wing before we get to Cybermed.”

  “Cybermed!” She pressed a hand to her throat. “I don’t want to become a cyborg!” Too late, she realized he was one. Nothing else could explain his fast reflexes when the Ka-Tȇ jumped him, how he’d managed to outrun them, why he was so large and muscled.

  He twisted his mouth. “Few do. Becoming a cyborg is a last resort. Cybermed won’t transform you. That would require neuro surgery to implant a microprocessor and a complete infusion of permanent self-regenerating nanos programmed to your specific DNA.

  “I’m taking you to Cybermed because if anyone can reattach your wing, they can. Any other medical facility would amputate it. If you want to fly again, this is your option.”

  Amputate? Faria couldn’t live without wings. Losing one resulted in a severe handicap; two resulted in death. “I-I want to save my wing, but I thought it was improving. I can’t move it, but it doesn’t hurt.”

  “That’s due to the pain-dampening effects of the nano-temp. My plan is to get you to Cybermed before it wears off.”

  “Can’t you give me another injection?”

  “Not a good idea. Nano-temp won’t change your biochemistry, but it does speed healing and regeneration. Your wing could heal broken. Cybermed could fix that—but it would be better if they didn’t have to. As it is, you’re going to need some rehab.” He gestured to the berth.

  Her legs had begun to wobble after standing so long, anyway. Faria flew more than they walked, so their limbs weren’t strong. She got into bed and shifted to avoid putting pressure on her wing. Lying down made Guy seem more massive. The Farian people didn’t grow very tall. Solia was five feet. The tallest Faria barely topped five and a half, and Guy was way over the mark. Six and a half at least.

  Carrying her, he’d run through the hot, humid jungle without breaking a sweat. Muscles bulged in his arms, his chest, his thighs, and she’d bet they rippled across his abdomen, too. Would his body feel as hard as it looked? Her hair tingled. I shouldn’t be thinking of him like that.

  But that was like unringing a bell—it couldn’t be done. She felt herself silver.

  “Your color continues to improve. Good!” he said. He pushed his sleeves up, drawing attention to his change in clothing—and that his wounds had vanished. The Ka-Tȇ had slashed him.

  “Your injuries…they’re better?”

  “Yes, I heal very fast.”

  “Because you’re a cyborg?”

  He nodded.

  “How did you become a cyborg?”

  “Can I get you anything to eat? Are you hungry?”

  Solia pressed a hand to her
stomach. “Yes.” The Ka-Tȇ had thrown some fruit into the cage a few times. Apparently, they didn’t want their captives to starve to death before they could kill them—or be too weak to run—not that any of them had gotten far. The last time they’d bothered to feed her had been three days ago.

  “I’ll get you something to eat. Is there anyone you’d like me to contact? I’ve already notified the Farian authorities, but is there anyone specific you’d like to talk to? Parents?” He paused. “Husband?”

  “No.” He’s being kind. He’s not asking because he’s interested.

  Nor would it do if he was. Romantic attention from an offworlder would have to be discouraged. She couldn’t marry a non-Faria. Special abilities could be lost if they bred outside their race. Besides, Faria mated for life with no chance of dissolution for a bad choice. So one had to be very, very sure.

  Who said anything about marriage? whispered a saucy little voice.

  Exactly, she flung back. He’s not interested in me. He’s doing his duty.

  Didn’t they say insanity wasn’t talking to yourself, but answering?

  “I’ll get your food,” he said.

  He left, and she fanned herself. Her face revealed her emotions in a heartbeat. All Faria were expressive; they silvered and glowed when excited or aroused. Guy had ignored her question about how he’d become a cyborg—but she never should have asked. It had probably been a painful experience. A man of his confidence and capabilities would never be interested in a rude little Faria linguist who screamed when confronted with a harmless baby animal.

  See, you are interested!

  No, I’m not!

  Not to mention a crazy Faria who talked to herself.

  Seven

  After Guy programmed the ship’s food replicator to produce Farian cuisine, the dispenser produced some fruit-scented biscuits, a thick purple drink, and some hard squares of something he couldn’t begin to guess at. The replicator could provide a little bit of most cuisines but offered limited variety within any one food group.

  On impulse, he had the machine dispense a sandwich for himself—vegetarian, so he wouldn’t gross her out. Would she want to eat with him? She needed to rest. Her body required recovery time, and she had a long, hard rehab ahead of her.

  Can’t believe I put the cat in the room with her. Bad call. How could he have been so stupid? Solia wasn’t the first person to believe the misconception the Ka-Tȇ were felines. However, their genetics were no closer to a cat’s than a guinea pig was to an Arcanian. Worlds apart. Mittzi’s tiny teeth and claws couldn’t begin to compare to a Ka-Tȇ’s.

  Talk about your close calls. They’d barely made it off the planet.

  He wished he knew who to contact on Solia’s behalf. When he’d informed the Farian authorities about her rescue and condition, they’d reported she had no next of kin. Just because she didn’t have a spouse didn’t mean she didn’t have a boyfriend or somebody who cared about her.

  Guy knocked on the door before entering. Solia sat in bed, the light cover pulled up to her waist. “I did the best I could to get you Farian food,” he said.

  “Anything you brought will be fine. I could eat a horse.” She grinned. “Isn’t that a Terran saying?”

  He smiled. “Yes. Have you seen a horse?”

  She shook her head.

  Guy chuckled. “You’ll prefer what I brought you, then.” He rolled a bed tray to the berth and placed her meal on it. “I got myself a sandwich. Maybe we could eat together?”

  “I would like that.”

  He pulled up a chair. The nano-temp and hemogen had done wonders. While her skin hadn’t regained its normal glow, it was more silver than gray, and her hair seemed more alive. The biggest problem was her broken wing. Would Cybermed be able to reattach it so that it functioned? He hoped so. The alternative would be to replace her natural wings with prosthetics. Cybermed had done that once—with excellent results—but still only once. He didn’t want to upset her, so he kept his concerns to himself.

  “Please, eat!” He motioned and bit into his sandwich.

  Solia ate with delicate nibbles. “I need to apologize,” she said. “I overreacted to the kitten.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “It was my fault. I never should have left her with you.”

  “I scared her as much as she scared me. Is she okay?”

  “Mittzi is fine. No harm done.”

  “On Faria, people sometimes adopt moochins. They are round furry animals with long tails and large eyes. Children love them. I imagine having a pet aboard your spacecraft provides company on long flights.”

  Guy made a face. “I didn’t plan to adopt Mittzi, and, in fact, I need to find a permanent home for her. Jessamine, my niece, thought I needed a pet, so she surprised me with a kitten. I didn’t find her until I was underway.”

  Solia’s laughter tinkled like chimes in the wind. “Oh.” She nibbled at the fruit biscuit then patted her mouth with a napkin and asked, “Do you have a lot of family on Terra?”

  “A sister, brother-in-law, and niece.”

  “You’re not mated, then?”

  “No,” he said tersely.

  “I’m sorry. My question is painful for you.”

  “It’s all right. I was engaged to be married, but my fiancée met someone else.”

  It surprised him he hadn’t felt greater pain over his broken engagement—and that Solia had noticed what he did feel. He hadn’t thought he’d reacted to her question. He wasn’t sure he liked that someone could read him. Being a cyborg, he could switch off emotional displays. In the field, hiding emotion was a prerequisite for staying alive. “What about you? Don’t you have family? A mate?” Turnabout was fair play.

  For a moment, her hair seemed to dull before it regained its sheen. “My parents were killed when I was a small child. I grew up in an orphanage. Faria mate for life. Dissolution of the mating bond is not possible. Only in rare, extreme instances are unions annulled. I haven’t met the man I want to spend my life with. My job doesn’t leave me a lot of time to meet people, so no boyfriend.”

  Her single status pleased him, though it shouldn’t. It was none of his business. “You said you’re a linguist?”

  She nodded. “All Faria have special gifts. I have a natural ear for language and vocal nuance.” The corner of her mouth curved slightly. “When you mentioned your broken relationship, there was the slightest catch in your voice. Most people would never notice.”

  He’d have to be more careful in the future. He cocked his head. “That’s how you were able to communicate with the Ka-Tȇ.”

  “I could understand them.” She rubbed her throat. “Vocal anatomy won’t allow me to replicate their sounds, so I can’t speak to them. I don’t think it would have made a difference.” She swallowed. “Understanding made it worse. They spoke freely around us, laughed. I knew what would happen.”

  Guy sucked air through his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

  “They considered me the prize. They like ‘flying things,’ even though they tore my wing so I couldn’t escape. They were saving me for last. Rather than kill me outright like they did so many others, they intended to keep me alive and play with me for a while. Torture me just short of death. A human woman named Rachel was in the cage next to me. They would have killed her next, but she slit her own throat with a rock and thwarted their plans. They took their anger out on me. Slashed me with their claws.”

  Having faced his own traumas, he understood pain and terror, hopelessness. Truman’s death had scarred him but also had motivated his enlistment in Cyber Operations. Carter had saved his life. Now he needed to pay it forward by saving others.

  “I enlisted in the Terran military as a medic, intending to put in my time then allow the government to pay for medical school. They sent me to the front lines, patching up soldiers on the battlefield,” he explained. “One day, they brought an unconscious guy into the mobile medical unit. He’d been tortured by Lamis-Odg—and booby-tra
pped with a microexplosive device. I didn’t know that. In tending to his injuries, I triggered the MED.

  “It killed him, and I woke up in the hospital as a torso with a head, my arms and legs blown off.” Guy touched his left ear. He’d lost that, too—not to mention hearing on that side. “It’s true what they say about phantom limbs. I could still feel my arms and legs, but they were gone, along with my military career, my hopes of becoming a physician. Then a man I’d never met visited me and offered me the chance of lifetime.” He paused, the memories washing over him like it was yesterday. He took a breath. “You asked how I became a cyborg. That’s how.”

  Solia’s eyes rounded with sympathy. “Thank you for sharing your story.”

  Why had he? He’d never told Mariah—but then, she hadn’t asked. It hadn’t struck him as odd until now. How could she have professed to love him and not wondered about his past?

  Carter had given him a new lease on life. There were no strings attached, but when the Cy-Ops director recruited him for Cyber Operations, of course Guy had agreed. How could he do anything else? The entire cyber operative force was built of men and women Carter had pulled from the wreckage of some disaster or other. Field agents gave the director a hard time, but, like Guy, none of them forgot how much they owed him. They’d march into hell for him.

  Hell assumed many deceptive forms. It sprawled over the Lamis-Ogd desert where iwani sand demons lived beneath the dunes, it rose high into the sky like the deadly forests of DeltaNu 9084. And it was an eerie, silent jungle where vicious predators preyed on anyone foolish enough to land.

  If Carter hadn’t sent him to Katnia, Solia would have perished along with the others.

  Mariah had claimed he cared more for others than he did for her. “Sometimes I think I need to become a victim to get your attention,” she’d thrown at him after he’d missed yet another wedding-planning session. They’d patched it up, he’d thought. Mariah had had his love. When he was home, he’d focused on her.