by Jenna Ives
Wyatt scowled.
During the long hours of last night as Wyatt lay in his bed going over the events of the day, he’d definitely considered that sex with the Beautiful Doll had been intended as a trap. It could have played out in any of several ways.
First: Having seen the demonstration of the soldier crushing that concrete block, Wyatt never should have let Veraine leave him in a room alone with a robot, even if she was a sexbot programmed to please. Ginger could easily have killed him, and Carron – angry that the High Council had sent Wyatt as its representative to deal with him – could have dumped Wyatt’s body somewhere far away and told Theus that Wyatt had simply never shown up at the factory.
Scenario two: Knowing Ginger was a sexbot, Wyatt should never have trusted his vulnerable cock to the uncertainty of her mouth. Hell, she could have maimed him for life. Castrated him, on Carron’s orders.
Three: At the very least, before indulging in the most incredible oral sex of his life, he should have thought to check the room for cameras. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past Anson Carron to use a video disc of the encounter to get him yanked from this assignment for dereliction of duty.
The only small reassurance Wyatt felt on that last possibility was that before yesterday, Carron didn’t know Theus had assigned Wyatt to be a liaison between him and the High Council. So, hopefully, there had been no cameras in Titus Veraine’s programming lab to record what had happened there.
At least not yesterday. Today was a different story.
Damn it all.
Why did Ginger have to be so beautiful? Why did her gorgeous red hair have to feel like silk when he’d buried his fingers in its lush waves to hold her talented mouth closer to his cock yesterday? Why did her smile seem so sweet, so sincere?
Wyatt shoved his fingers through his hair. Shit. He had no experience with Beautiful Dolls. Yesterday he’d been taken aback by Ginger’s human-like reactions – her gratitude when he’d thanked her for the blow job, her delight when he’d told her they were both ‘programmed’ for their jobs. Reactions totally unexpected from a robot.
She was fascinating. Which meant Ginger was his enemy every bit as much as Anson Carron, because Carron or Titus Veraine could use her to manipulate him.
Wyatt shifted on his feet. Did Theus know that Carron and Veraine had kept back a Beautiful Doll from the soldier conversion? The fact that Veraine hid Ginger in a utility closet indicated her existence might be secret, but even so, was it necessarily illegal?
After all, what was criminal about using a sexbot for the function it was created? For them or for him?
Stop rationalizing, Wyatt. You have a job to do and it does not involve sex.
With a sigh, he donned his dress uniform. He was determined to prove he was strong enough to resist the temptation which gorgeous Ginger represented. Without the protection of his duty blues.
At least that’s what he told himself.
The ride to Carron’s manufacturing facility seemed quicker today, and when Wyatt parked his transport, even Bruiser-the-guard let him pass with no problem after Wyatt turned over his weapon.
Inside, however, was a different matter.
A thin, white-coated minion with wiry brown hair, thick glasses, and a pock-marked face intercepted Wyatt as soon as he walked in the front door.
“Welcome, agent Wyatt, welcome!” he effused. “I’m Loris Rhean. Mr. Carron has asked me to serve as your personal guide while you’re here in our facility. I will answer any questions you may have and help you in any way I can.” The man clapped his hands together and smiled broadly, revealing a gap between his two front teeth. “Oh, my. I’m so excited. Being your guide is quite an honor for me.”
Wyatt frowned. His guide? Or his guard? He didn’t need either one. But it looked like Carron wanted him watched every moment, so Wyatt was going to be stuck with this effervescent sycophant.
At least it’ll keep me away from Ginger…
Right. And maybe Wyatt could even get some useful information out this toady.
“Fine,” he said briskly. “I’d like to get a more detailed look at the factory floor today.”
“Certainly, certainly,” Rhean agreed brightly. “Right this way, please.”
Wyatt already knew the way, but he let the mincing assistant lead him down the concrete corridor toward the main factory floor. Good lord, if Wyatt wasn’t mistaken, this Rhean character was actually skipping. There was an odd little spring in his step, as if gravity wasn’t entirely holding him to the ground.
Great. And I’m stuck with this idiot.
“Umph.”
Wyatt squinted. It seemed Rhean was having a bit of trouble sliding aside the heavy metal door at the entrance to the manufacturing floor. What a wuss. Wyatt gave him a hand rolling the door on its track, and for his aid, Wyatt got an ever bigger smile from the smarmy man, and a mild fluttering of his eyelashes.
Good God.
Wyatt turned and marched directly to the first machine Carron had showed him yesterday. This was where the initial lump of polymer started its journey to become a robot soldier. He turned to Rhean.
“Here’s a question for you. Why do the androids have to look like people at all? Why go to so much trouble? Why not make them – I don’t know – faceless, generic?”
Rhean lay what looked like an affectionate hand on the machine, which made Wyatt wonder if he’d ever taken advantage of the Beautiful Dolls himself.
“That’s an easy question to answer, agent Wyatt. Since we were already involved in the very detailed work of creating lifelike sex robots for Beautiful Dolls, it was simply more efficient to keep the basic parameters of the manufacturing process when we switched over to robot soldiers. We just did away with some of the more intricate details, like the individuality of their faces, the variety of their body types, their height, hair color, sex organs, that sort of thing.”
Wyatt supposed that made sense. Why re-invent the wheel when Carron could modify it slightly to fit his new purpose?
Smart. He threw a quick glance at the glass-walled office nestled in the corner, high above the factory floor, but Wyatt could see no sign of Carron in there. Where was he today?
He turned back to Rhean. “Speaking of Beautiful Dolls, why didn’t Carron keep that business going? Seems like an awfully big moneymaker to give up.”
Rhean sighed dramatically. “Our factory is running day and night just to fulfill the High Council’s first shipment order, agent Wyatt. We could never continue to make the intricate Dolls and meet the Council’s deadline, too.”
Wyatt digested that answer, and then added a probable rationale of his own. And I’m sure Anson Carron prefers his new position of powerbroker over his former profession as a mere pimp.
Even if it might not pay as much.
It pays him in prestige...
Right. Anson Carron was now a supplier to the High Council. Not many companies on Tau Cetus could claim that.
“How long does it take to create each individual soldier?”
“We can reliably produce twenty-five per day, as long as we continue to operate nonstop. Programming them is obviously the thing that takes the most time.” Rhean gave Wyatt a wistful smile. “We had a bit of a head start, since Beautiful Dolls already had one hundred working models. Those beautiful sexbots needed to be modified, of course, but it didn’t take as long as creating one from scratch.”
Beautiful? Oh, yeah, this guy definitely made use of the Dolls himself. Only question was whether he preferred the male variety.
Wyatt turned his head and rubbed his chin. Hmm. Twenty-five soldiers per day… times the last six months of manufacturing… plus one hundred original sexbots. Calculating quickly, Wyatt estimated that Carron’s robot army was almost ready for deployment.
That certainly matched up with the rows and rows of completed robot soldiers he’d seen yesterday.
“Walk me through the process. I want to see exactly how it’s done.”
Wyatt spent th
e next two hours examining the intricacies of every machine on the floor. He had to admit he was impressed by the streamlined operation. Once assembled, the robot soldiers were sent to the programming labs, then, after encoding, they were delivered to the storage area around the corner from the factory floor. Anson Carron might have once been little more than an oily purveyor of prostitution, but he’d obviously always been an efficient businessman.
Hell. This was a monumental undertaking. No wonder Carron was running his manufacturing facility day and night.
“How can Anson Carron insure quality control with this round-the-clock schedule?”
“We test every tenth soldier, agent Wyatt. We’ve had no problems so far, and we’re confident we can keep up this schedule.” Rhean gave Wyatt his best gap-toothed smile. “Premier Theus can count on us!”
Sycophant.
“Good,” Wyatt said dismissively. “Then I’ll get right to work organizing their transportation to Terra Acer.”
Rhean immediately held up what looked like a distressed hand, his mouth forming a perfect letter o. “Oh, wait, wait. Our head programmer, Titus Veraine, wants me to bring you to his lab when we’re through here.”
Wyatt paused. He’d managed to put all thoughts of Ginger out of his mind for the last few hours, but now temptation reared its ugly head. She’s so close. At least go see her. What can it hurt?
Stop it!
“We’re done here,” Wyatt growled. “And I have work to do.”
Rhean gnawed at his bottom lip. “I really think Titus Veraine needs to speak with you, agent Wyatt.”
“About what?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not privy to that information. But it must be something important, because I have direct orders to take you there.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. He briefly wondered what this lightweight would do if Wyatt simply turned and left. Would the man come skipping down the hall to try and stop him?
Remember, Bruiser is outside. You’d have a bit more trouble getting past him if they want to keep you here…
True.
And you wanted a chance to show you’re stronger than temptation, right? That’s why you wore your dress uniform. Here’s your chance to prove it.
Besides, he supposed there was a chance Veraine might have something legitimate to discuss with him.
“All right. Lead on.”
Wyatt endured another broad, gap-toothed smile from the wiry-haired assistant, who immediately turned to guide him from the factory floor, down a hallway, and toward a set of double doors. The programming labs. Again, Wyatt already knew the way, but he offered no protest at the sycophant’s eager escort.
Rhean pushed his way through the hinged doors, and Wyatt noted that every programmer in the room was in some stage of work on an individual soldier. Some robots had their face panels removed while others were connected by cables to computers. A dozen stations, a dozen soldiers. A model of streamlined efficiency.
Rhean knocked once on the black door that led to Titus Veraine’s personal lab. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed open the door and entered the room. Wyatt followed him in.
Titus Veraine looked up from his work station, then pushed his chair back from his computer keyboard. “Agent Wyatt. Welcome back.”
Wyatt briefly noted that the soldier connected to Veraine’s computer was a dead ringer for yesterday’s robot. Then again, they were all dead ringers for each other. By design.
Veraine pinched the bridge of his nose, apparently exhausted. He stood to unhook the cable from the side of the soldier’s head. “Rhean, this one’s ready. Will you escort it to the storage area?”
“But…” The wiry-haired man looked at Wyatt. “Mr. Carron said… I’m supposed to—”
“It’s fine,” Veraine interrupted. “I’ll take care of agent Wyatt.”
“But—”
“Rhean,” Veraine snapped, then eased his tone. “I said it’s fine. Don’t worry.”
He waved a hand toward the soldier, and an unhappy-looking Loris Rhean took the robot’s arm and led it from the room.
Veraine turned to Wyatt. “Pardon my temper. I’ve been working on that one for the last four hours straight.”
“Four hours?”
“Yes. It takes longer to program them than it does to actually make them. Then again, their value is not only in their brute strength, but also in their advanced ability to follow orders. They have to be able to adjust, even on the fly, in case things change during a particular situation or battle.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “That kind of technology….”
“Is complicated. Still, as I mentioned yesterday, this is nothing like the complexity of programming a Beautiful Doll. They were a work of art. A masterpiece. Our little miracle.” Veraine gave Wyatt a small smile.
Was that regret Wyatt saw there? Had Beautiful Dolls been Veraine’s life’s work, and programming homogenous robot soldiers a disappointing step down? Wyatt had certainly never seen anything as technologically impressive as Ginger.
He purposely stopped himself from throwing a glance toward Veraine’s utility closet, but it reminded him of a question. “You said yesterday that Beautiful Dolls can’t lie.”
“They can’t.”
“So… isn’t that a bad quality for a robot soldier? One of them could potentially spill military secrets if captured by an enemy.”
Veraine let out a small bark of a laugh. “First of all, these soldiers will never be taken. Do you think we’d let this kind of technology fall into enemy hands? No. We can activate any robot’s built-in self-destruct sequence with one stroke of a computer key. Secondly, they have no vocal chords. Artificial mouths, yes, but no vocal chords. They can’t speak.”
No vocal chords? Wyatt immediately thought of Ginger’s sultry voice, and knew it would be a damned shame if she were silenced forever.
“But speaking of mouths…” Veraine began.
Wyatt scowled a warning. You’d damn well better not be referring to yesterday’s blow job…
Veraine ignored the look. “I had to send Rhean away,” he said, leaning an inch closer toward Wyatt, “because there’s something I want to tell you. But it’s… private.”
Wyatt’s scowl faded. “Private?”
“Yes.” Veraine walked over to his lab door, and shut it firmly. Then he returned to stand in front of Wyatt, and lowered his voice. “Mr. Carron has a… secondary… plan for the robot soldiers’ deployment to Terra Acer. A personal one.”
Wyatt felt his jaw clench. It would be just like Anson Carron to have an ulterior agenda. During the Callex case, Carron’s double dealings nearly cost Jai her life. Bastard. “Tell me.”
“He intends to smuggle diamonds inside the mouths of five of the soldiers. As a test.”
Wyatt’s eyebrow rose at that information. “What kind of test?”
Veraine smiled slyly. “Mr. Carron wants to ensure that he has a comfortable retirement if Theus should one day – shall we say – tire of his services. Terra Acer and that part of Tau Cetus are still fairly lawless; it’s a good place for Mr. Carron to be able to disappear and enjoy his hard-earned profits. I’m to collect the diamonds once we get to Terra Acer and pass them to a trusted contact Mr. Carron has there. And to give this covert operation less chance of discovery, I’ve implanted the diamonds into soldiers number one, one-thousand-one, two-thousand-two, three-thousand-three and four-thousand-four.”
“And you chose those particular soldiers because every tenth robot is pulled out for testing.”
Veraine looked surprised that Wyatt was aware of their quality-control process, but he nodded in acknowledgment.
Wyatt paused while digesting all this information. He knew very well that if Theus tired of someone’s services it usually meant they’d fucked up in some way, and the Council’s standard way of dealing with that was by killing them, not retiring them. And smuggling diamonds for personal use inside robot soldiers technically owned by the High Council would definitely
not sit well with Theus.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Veraine shrugged. “I think the Council should know what Mr. Carron is up to. Besides, I’m an ambitious man. If Theus decides to get rid of Mr. Carron, I’m confident he’ll remember my service in alerting you to this information, and realize that I’m here – ready and able – to take Mr. Carron’s place.”
Not bloody likely. If Veraine could betray Carron this easily, he could just as casually betray the High Council. Still, there was a lot here for Wyatt to consider.
Veraine turned suddenly, and strode across the lab. Before Wyatt could utter a word to stop him, Veraine had opened his utility closet door.
“Ginger? Come on out and say hello to agent Wyatt.”
Veraine’s command woke Ginger from her hibernation mode. The Beautiful Doll’s green starburst eyes slowly opened, and she took a step into the room.
Despite his vow to resist her, Wyatt was once again transfixed by her beauty. He stared at her flawless face, with that enticing mouth. At her gorgeous red hair, falling like a curtain to her creamy shoulders. And her perfect body, naked in all its glory for him to admire.
She held herself as proud as a queen.
Ginger’s green-eyed gaze went from Veraine to Wyatt. Then she smiled sweetly. “Hello, Leith.”
Wyatt stopped breathing. He hadn’t imagined it yesterday. The way she said those two simple words was akin to a physical caress. A long, drawn-out purr. He couldn’t imagine Ginger without vocal chords.
His traitorous body began to stir.
Veraine’s eyebrows reached his hairline. “Leith, is it?” He threw Wyatt a glance, and laughed out loud. “Sounds like you two had a better time yesterday than I thought.”
Wyatt scowled fiercely, which only made Veraine laugh louder.
“Ginger? Why don’t you show agent Wyatt… er, Leith…congress of a cow today.”
“Yes, Titus,” she agreed.
“No, Titus,” Wyatt contradicted. Damn it, he was determined not to let himself get into this tempting situation again!
Veraine left the Doll’s side to walk the few steps back to Wyatt. He lowered his voice. “Go ahead and enjoy yourself, agent Wyatt. It’s safe here.” He shrugged. “I mean, would I have told you about the diamonds if we were being recorded?”