The Magnificent Cyborg

by Honey Phillips

  W-246 stared at the door after Cherry disappeared and wrestled with his conscience. On one hand, he truly didn’t expect any danger. The only threats on Mars, other than man himself, were environmental. The woman on the communicator had seemed more worried than scared. But still, was he being foolish in taking Cherry along?

  No, he decided. The only foolishness was in hoping that if the two of them spent this time alone together, he could break through whatever wall she had erected between them. Thoughts of her had haunted him since their last meeting, but he did not want to proceed where he wasn’t wanted. He had hoped that her attitude would soften with time and had begun contemplating ways to have her view him more favorably.

  He tried to communicate with the homestead again, but there was still no response. Still, that wasn’t uncommon, especially if one of the frequent dust storms had caused damage to the limited transmission equipment.

  As he traced out the route on the map, he realized that one of his retired Rangers had a homestead on the way. Could he investigate instead? Even though he was reluctant to pass up the opportunity to spend time with Cherry, he called Clint.

  “Sorry, W-246. A dust storm came through here last night and I’m going to be making repairs for a few days. I’m not going to leave Josephine on her own with damaged equipment.”

  He couldn’t argue with the man’s desire to protect his human wife.

  “Fair enough. I’ll go myself.” He hesitated. “However, do you think you could manage two visitors for the night?”

  “Visitors?”

  “Myself and… Cherry.” An astonished silence met his words and he hurried on. “The claim belongs to one of her girls and she wants to check on her.”

  “Is that so?”

  The words were neutral but the tone was definitely speculative.

  “I’m sure it’s just damaged equipment, especially since you mentioned the storm, but she wants to be sure so she’s coming along. I don’t want her to ride the entire way in one day.” Fortunately, no one was present to see the heat rising to his cheeks.

  “Yeah, okay. I know Josephine would enjoy seeing Cherry.”

  Did Clint sound like he was laughing?

  “Thank you,” he said stiffly. “We’ll be there this afternoon unless I establish communication with the claim before then.”

  “Can’t wait to see this—I mean, you.”

  The other man ended the communication, and W-246 put his head in his hands. Fuck, he was pitiful.

  But when the hour came to an end and he had still not managed to raise the homestead, he found himself heading for his stable with a smile on his face. For the next three days, Cherry was his.

  Despite his impatience to see her, he allowed the time for one small detour and he was still grinning when he met her at the stall. She had her thermal coat and breathing mask slung over one arm and a small satchel over the other, and she raised an eyebrow as he appeared.

  “I do believe you’re late, Judge.”

  “Sorry, ma’am.” He looked around but he didn’t see any other luggage. “That’s all you’re bringing?”

  “I prefer to travel light.”

  The words triggered a flash of memory—he had a vision of her standing in a room holding up a small flowery bag and saying the same thing—but before he could grasp it, a spike of agony shot through his skull and he clutched his head.

  “Wyatt! What’s wrong?”

  A cool hand touched his arm.

  “Nothing.” He forced himself to straighten. The pain was already disappearing in a blaze of warmth as his nanites rushed to the rescue. He hadn’t experienced pain like that since he at first became a cyborg. “Just an old injury.”

  “You had a head injury? I didn’t notice any sign of it.” Tilting her head to one side, she frowned up at him.

  “They told me it was an internal injury.”

  “Hmm.” Somewhat to his surprise, she changed the subject. “Why were you grinning when you walked up? Did you hear from them?”

  “I’m afraid not. I was smiling because I took care of your little problem. Nicky won’t be bothering you again.”

  She raised a manicured brow. “Is he alive?” Her tone was curious rather than condemning.

  “Of course he is, darlin’. I can’t just go around killing every human who annoys me.”

  Amusement filled her face. “Wyatt, I mean, W-246, what did you do?”

  “You can call me Wyatt. I like the way it sounds on your lips.”

  Her eyes slid away from his as she bit her lip.

  “W-246 is safer.” Before he could question her statement, she hurried on. “And you still didn’t answer me. What did you do?”

  “Let’s just say that one of the polar power plants is about to receive the assistance of one hard-working and unpaid new employee.” He grinned at her. Her mouth opened, then she threw her head back in joyous laughter that once again struck a familiar note. The pain in his head threatened to reappear but he shoved it aside.

  “It couldn’t happen to a nicer man.” She sobered rapidly, her laughter replaced by worry. “But we should get going.”

  “You’re right.” He whistled for his horse. Not an actual horse but one of the big mechanical constructs based on the legendary Earth animals. They were fast, efficient, and adaptable and worked well with Rangers, or at least so he had heard. In his previous work at the pole, he had used an ice mobile to get around and he’d had little chance to use his horse since his arrival in New Arcadia.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful. What’s his name?”

  “He doesn’t have one.” He felt vaguely guilty as he answered her. It hadn’t escaped his notice that some of the other cyborgs—particularly the ones with human wives—had given names to the mechanical horses but it hadn’t occurred to him to do so until now.

  She gave him a disapproving frown, and he could have sworn his horse echoed it.

  “Why don’t you name him?” The suggestion popped out before he could stop it. He didn’t need to name a mechanical object, but she looks so delighted that he didn’t have the heart to withdraw the question.

  “Hmm, let’s see… You could call him Silver after his gorgeous coloring.” She paused and looked to the horse. The horse looked back. “No, I don’t think that’s quite right. I think we should call you… Maverick.”

  The horse nudged her with his head, and she gave another one of her delighted laughs. “That seems like the one. What do you think?”

  “He seems to like it,” he agreed, playing along. Did she really think the horse had a preference? Then again, he remembered some of the things that he had seen the horses do. Perhaps it was not entirely unrealistic to assume they had some type of artificial personality.

  “Put on your coat and mask,” he suggested. “That way we don’t have to stop at the airlock.”

  She agreed, and as soon as she was ready, he lifted her into the built-in saddle and then vaulted up behind her. Her back was rigid when he pulled her back against him.

  “Relax, darlin’. You have to move with the horse.”

  She sighed and some of the tension left her frame as she settled back into his arms. He had to fight back a groan as all those lush curves nestled into him and her subtle exotic scent surrounded him. His cock immediately responded, despite his efforts to keep it under control. He knew she must be able to feel it and he could see the color rising beneath her makeup, but thankfully, she didn’t comment. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, he didn’t say anything either. Instead, he urged Maverick towards the town entrance.

  Chapter Seven

  This was a bad idea. As the airlock closed behind them and they emerged out of the canyon that helped to enclose the city, all Cherry could see was a vast orange desert and a few scattered habitats. Far off mountains towered in the distance. She was alone—alone with Wyatt—and being this close to him only made her remember all those other times.

  I’m doing this for Esme, she reminded herself. S
he cared about all of her girls, but Esme was special. If she needed help, Cherry was determined to be there for her.

  They trotted rapidly along the edge of the desert where it began to climb into rocky foothills, and she did her best to ignore the fact Wyatt’s erection was nestled between the cheeks of her ass. In spite of the harsh surroundings, this felt so familiar. She found herself wondering about the head injury. Was that the explanation? Was that why he didn’t remember her? But it didn’t make sense. He must have known he was missing time—and why wouldn’t the military have told him that he was married?

  She decided to probe a little more.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you become a cyborg?”

  “I don’t mind. It was just an unfortunate accident. I was changing posts from Washington to Dallas and the transport ship crashed.”

  Changing posts? From what he’d told her, that happened almost four months before their marriage.

  “And you never made it to Dallas?”

  “‘Fraid not. I was born there and I was looking forward to returning. I was ready for a change of scenery as well.” He laughed. “Well, I guess there aren’t that many differences between the megacities these days.”

  “I lived in Dallas,” she said softly.

  “Then I’m doubly sorry that I didn’t make it. Maybe we would have seen each other across a crowded room…”

  “Or found each other on a balcony.”

  The firm arms surrounding her turned to stone, and she heard him gasp.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Just this head injury acting up.” He forced a laugh, but she could hear the strain in his voice. “I reckon I’m not used to patrolling anymore. But don’t you worry, darlin’, we’ll get there all right.”

  “I know you can do anything you set out to do,” she said softly.

  His arms tightened around her for just a minute, as if he were hugging her, and then he changed the subject.

  As they rode across the desert, they touched lightly on a number of topics, as well as spent a fair amount of time discussing the independence they both hoped was coming. She made no further attempts to trigger his past memories.

  Aside from the fact that any such discussion seemed to cause him pain, her head and her heart were at war. She had been a different person back then. Since that time, she had reinvented herself—yet again—to become Madam Cherry. His memories of Rebecca would be very different. But it was more than that. Even though their time together had been so short, she had fallen deeply and desperately in love with him. What if he regained his memories and he only remembered her as a pleasant interlude? The pain of that might be worse than the pain of knowing she had been forgotten.

  He had changed as well. The good-humored but cynical soldier she first met had been replaced by a harder man. Yet he also seemed to have found a depth of compassion he hadn’t revealed before. Perhaps I just never had a chance to see this side of him, she thought as she remembered his instinctive rush to assist Daisy, not to mention this quixotic trip.

  As mid-afternoon approached, she noticed they were heading up a long side valley with a small habitat of the far end.

  “Are we heading for that homestead?”

  “Yes. The temperature is too cold at night for you to travel, and I thought it would be easier to spend the night here.”

  She regarded the approaching habitat with mixed feelings. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, she was beginning to feel the strain of the long ride. But her concern about Esme was a constant nagging worry in the back of her mind.

  “You don’t think we should push on and get further before the sun sets?”

  “I didn’t bring any camping supplies,” he said dryly. “We’ll leave at daylight tomorrow and make better time after resting tonight.”

  Since she was pretty sure that neither Wyatt nor the horse actually needed to rest, he was doing this on her behalf. But it was a sensible idea, and she decided not to argue.

  “And where is here exactly?”

  “This is Jo’s claim. You already know Jo and Clint, of course.”

  She hadn’t spent much time with Jo, but she had always liked the bubbly woman and she smiled back at him. “It will be nice to see them again but if I’d known we were coming, I would have brought along a present.”

  “You don’t need to do that. We’re all in this together, remember?”

  Perhaps they were, but as the local brothel keeper, was she truly a part of Martian society? Even the fact that she felt an uncomfortable sense of obligation at the idea of taking someone’s hospitality without giving something in return suggested that she wasn’t.

  As they drew closer, she admired the neat array of buildings joined together to form the habitat. Much of the surrounding area had already been planted with lichen—the plantings were one of the requirements that Earth Government had established to take permanent possession of a claim. The specially bred plants helped to break down the Martian soil and return small amounts of oxygen to the atmosphere. The assorted colors of the lichen broke up the endless reds and oranges of the Martian landscape and gave the small homestead an unexpectedly homelike air.

  “They’ve really made a lot of progress with this place,” she said admiringly.

  “You’re just saying that because of all the plants.”

  “How did you know I like plants?”

  “Darlin’, you have planters outside your door and plants in every room that I saw. It doesn’t take much of a ranger to figure that one out.” His arms tightened again. “I wish I’d had the chance to bring you some.”

  A curious lump appeared in her throat. Had anyone ever brought her flowers? Not even Wyatt had the chance during their brief marriage. She put her hand over his where it rested on the pommel of the saddle. It was the first time she had touched him since the disastrous episode in her home. He didn’t say anything, but he put his other hand over hers and they rode on in silence.

  As they approached the habitat, the airlock door opened and Jo came rushing out with Clint at her side. The tiny dark-haired woman and the muscular, forbidding cyborg should have made an odd combination, but the affection between them was very clear.

  “I’m so glad to see you two,” Jo said. “You’re our very first guests.”

  “Thank you for letting us stay,” she said as Wyatt climbed down and then lifted her easily out of the saddle. Her thighs trembled and he kept a supportive arm around her waist. Jo’s eyes went wide behind her breathing mask although Clint maintained his usual stoic expression. She would have stepped away, but her legs felt seriously shaky. Apparently, he had correctly anticipated the difficulties of the ride.

  “I’m sorry. I’m finding that riding is a little more difficult than it looks.”

  “You should switch it up tomorrow—have W-246 hold you sideways instead,” Clint said. His face was still expressionless, but she could have sworn she saw a glint of humor in his red cybernetic eyes. She could only too clearly picture herself snuggled into Wyatt’s arms and she almost blushed, but she had a lot of practice in keeping her own face composed.

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”

  Jo’s eyes were sparkling with curiosity and mischief but all she did was wave them inside. Wyatt kept his arm around her until she was seated in a comfortable chair inside the small, cozy living room.

  “I need to go take care of Maverick,” he said. “Clint, can you spare a minute?”

  Clint gave her a once-over but must have decided she wasn’t a threat to his wife because he nodded and headed for the airlock with Wyatt.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Jo turned to Cherry, her eyes wide.

  “What are you doing out here? And with him? I thought you didn’t like him.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You didn’t have to. When we had that meeting at your house, you were clearly avoiding him.”

  She sighed. “It’s complicated. I knew him before—on Earth—b
ut he doesn’t remember me.”

  “How could he forget you? You’re gorgeous.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not worried about him forgetting my appearance. I was upset that he didn’t remember that we were married.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Married?” Jo’s mouth fell open.

  “Yes, but only for about two weeks.” She tried for a casual smile but she didn’t think that she was fooling either of them. “I was told he was missing in action but apparently the military had another use for him.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would he have forgotten about you just because he became a cyborg?” Sorrow crossed her face. “I know that Clint is still tortured by his memories.”

  “I don’t think it’s just me,” Cherry said slowly. “As far as I can tell, about six months are missing from his memory. And when he tries to remember, he experiences terrible pain. I wonder what else is missing.”

  “That’s terrible. Are you going to tell him? About the two of you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “We didn’t even know each other long before we got married,” she said evasively, unwilling to share her fears.

  Jo studied her face, her finger tapping thoughtfully against her chin.

  “There’s obviously still something between you two.”

  She shrugged. “He’s a man, and I’m a woman in a place where there aren’t very many women.”

  “Bullshit. It’s more than that and you know it. You told me once that you had been married three times. What was it you said? Once for love, once for money, and once because you were a fool. Was he the one you married for love?”

  “No, he was a foolish, romantic impulse when I thought my life had changed.”

  “Who was the love?” Jo said softly.

  “It probably would have been more accurate to say that I married for what I thought was love.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice but Jo wasn’t fooled. Her expression softened, and she put a gentle hand over Cherry’s. To her surprise, she found herself sharing the past she tried so hard to forget.