Mated with the Cyborg Read online

  But the situation wasn’t her fault. It was his. All his. Kai had somehow led Obido to Darius 4. How had the general found him? How had Carter? He’d disposed of the tracking device, and the Panthera didn’t have one.

  Come on, legs, move! His feet twitched, but his legs remained limp weights.

  Ping! Diagnostic completed, his cyborg brain rebooted. Lights and streams of code flashed across his field of vision. He attempted to open a channel to hail Carter, Brock, Dale, anybody, but could not. Systems were still inoperative.

  He managed to lift his forearms and each foot a half dozen centimeters off the table.

  As he wiggled in hopes of speeding the return of function, he eyed the entry scanner. Was it too optimistic to hope for an easy way out—by palming the screen? It would call far less attention than ripping off the door. The computer controlled entry and exits, limiting access privileges to those with clearance. Scanners read encoded DNA for organic creatures or serial numbers on bots.

  Before the mission, a small chip had been embedded under his skin to fool the computer. Kai lifted his hand and rubbed a tiny lump on his chest. The microelectronic device was still there. Of course, it might have been fried by the blast, or his access might have been erased after they’d learned he’d killed the guards and hijacked the shuttle. But maybe not. Perhaps it still worked.

  As soon as his legs cooperated, he was going to find out. He rubbed the slight bump. It was virtually undetectable, unless one knew what to look for. The subepidural had enabled him to “scan” and pass as an android—

  Mother. Fucker.

  The chip.

  Its unique signature could be tracked. That’s how Carter and Obido had located him. He might as well have hung a homing device around his neck.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mariska hurried around the corner and slammed into Vison.

  “What were you doing in Janai’s quarters?” the first officer demanded.

  Her fingers played with the edge of her scarf, checking its security, before she replied, “What makes you say that?”

  “This is her area.”

  Truth or lie? Which one would serve her and which one would lead farther into danger? “I went to see if she was there.”

  “Why?”

  She ducked her head. “I hoped she might show me how to use…cosmetics.”

  They won’t do you any good. His half pitying, half scornful thoughts were revealed on his face. “You would be advised to stick to the veil and not keep General Obido waiting any longer.”

  “Waiting?”

  “Your father has summoned you.”

  The debriefing. Her stomach clenched. She’d heard of soldiers who did not survive her father’s interrogations or who emerged as empty shells of what they’d once been. “I shall report shortly.”

  “You shall report now. This way.” He gestured, forcing her to accompany him. They strode in silence, Vison apparently having deemed she was not worthy of further conversation. Nothing had changed in her short absence, except the pity had turned to wariness. Before, only her father hadn’t trusted her. Now, no one did. She’d become more of a pariah.

  Mariska rechecked her veil. Stop that! Nervous habits would be noted and questioned. She had to act unconcerned, guileless, and guiltless. If anyone caught sight of her face now, it would be all over.

  They entered her father’s office. Legs curled, Janai sat at his feet while he stroked her hair. She glanced up, an odd, almost frightened expression in her eyes.

  Fear for me? More likely for herself. While others had been far crueler in their taunts, Janai had never gone out of her way to befriend her. Not that she would be expected to. Kindness was a weakness to be tempered with aggression, so said the Great One.

  Mariska knelt before the desk.

  Lovingly, her father raked a fingernail down Janai’s scarred cheek before pushing back from his desk. She’d always envied Janai’s handsomeness, but, as she scrutinized her now, the thickened outline of her forehead made her face appear misshapen rather than comely. And the scars, considered marks of favor, no longer seemed to enhance her beauty, but to disfigure her further.

  Her father planted himself in front of Mariska. “You took your time getting here. Stand up.”

  She rose to her feet then pressed her trembling hands at her sides. Do not touch the veil. Not the veil. Beneath the concealing scarf, her face felt heavy, stiff.

  Her father leaned in until his breath puffed against the fabric. “Do not make me wait again,” he said.

  “No, Father. I apologize.” She stared straight ahead, focusing on the wall over Janai’s head.

  He circled around her. His presence radiated danger and prickled the hair at her nape. He stepped in front of her again, and she released a silent sigh of relief.

  His fist shot out. Her face exploded in a starburst of pain, and she fell. Her head smacked the floor. Hot tears burned her eyes, and, for a moment, she couldn’t move. When she could, she groped for the veil. Intact. Thank the Great One.

  Boots, polished to a high shine, appeared in front of her face. “Get up,” her father ordered.

  She stumbled to her feet, fearing he would kick her. She slipped a hand into the pocket of her skirt. Closed her fingers around the small object. Dale had promised, but—

  “Tell me about the android.” His voice deadpanned.

  Mariska worked her mouth. “What about him?”

  The next blow knocked her sideways, and she slammed into his desk. Pain shot through her hip. She clung to the edge, groped beneath the rim. Was that a glint of sympathy in Janai’s eyes? No. The other woman ducked her head to examine her fingernails.

  Don’t falter now. Do it. She slipped a hand into her pocket. She glanced at her father.

  He had his back turned. Vison watched the general. She stuck the object under the rim then pushed herself away from the desk.

  Her father pivoted. “Tell me about the android,” he repeated. Beneath the calm tone, rage and hatred simmered. She braced for another blow. Would he beat her to death? He would have to. Though Kai was dead and could not be hurt, his body held secrets. She would not betray him, Dale, or the Deceptio workers. She wouldn’t tell her father anything.

  He was a monster. An iwani.

  “H-he…kept me tied up or locked in,” she fabricated. “I-I went to my cabin when I boarded. I didn’t know R981 had overpowered Q257 until after launch.”

  “I find it odd that of all places in the galaxy, he would take you to a pleasure resort. Why is that?” No casual musing. Every question was booby-trapped to explode in her face—along with his fist. A guiltless person would have no answers, but more was at stake than convincing him of her innocence. She had to lead him away from the truth. “There were many androids on Darius 4. I got the impression he’d been assigned there and had returned to base.”

  “Then why was he here?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where else did you go?”

  “Nowhere.”

  Standing off to the side, Vison jerked, his body going rigid, his eyes widening.

  “What is it?” her father said.

  “General, a communiqué reports an incident on Darius 4. An explosion occurred in the shuttle hangar.”

  Something had gone right. Now, if she could survive the interrogation…

  “My ship?” he asked.

  “Unknown,” Vison replied.

  Her father trained a chilling gaze on Mariska. “Where is my shuttle, the one that was supposed to take you to Katnia?”

  On Deceptio. Had soldiers searched the hangar before the explosion to discover it wasn’t on Darius 4? “You blew it up.”

  His punch snapped her head back, and knocked her into the wall. Her ears buzzed as the room grayed. Her knees buckled, and she fought to stay upright, to remain conscious. He’s going to kill me. My father is going to kill me.

  “Where. Is. My. Ship?”
/>   “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded funny; her tongue felt thick. She swallowed, tasting rust, and realized she’d bitten herself. “He sold it to a pirate. He blindfolded me when he moved me to a new ship.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Janai slip out a back entrance. One less thing on her conscience. Please stay away.

  “Extraordinary behavior for an android,” her father commented.

  Mariska said nothing. Robots could react to their environment, but what she’d described indicated thought, planning, strategy. Like he was sentient. Mindful. Organic.

  Her father turned to Vison. “Where is the android’s body?”

  “I’ll check, General,” he replied. His face went blank for a moment, and then he blinked. “I’ve located it in the Artificial Intelligence lab. It was scheduled for analysis at 13:00 tomorrow. There were two bots ahead of it, but I flagged it urgent and moved it up in the queue. Dismantling will begin at 09:00 this morning.

  Kai’s body was on the station! He hadn’t been left on Darius 4. Oh, Kai, I’m so sorry. He’d died trying to protect her. Her throat clogged with grief and remorse, but her heart lifted with a tiny surge of purpose. Perhaps I can fulfill Dale’s request. Lamis-Odg will not gain from this!

  And then her head reeled with a realization: Vision hadn’t left the room, talked to the computer, or accessed a commline. How had he located Kai and changed the schedule?

  “Find out who planted the bot,” her father said.

  “Yes, sir,” Vison replied. “I’ll oversee the investigation personally. The information may be useful to improve our androids and cyborgs.”

  “Maybe even yourself?” Obido looked at him.

  “You’re an android?” She’d never suspected!

  Vison stiffened. “I am no robot. I am a cybernetic Lamis-Odg.”

  A cyborg. Dale had explained…

  Her father’s gaze turned cold and hard when he looked at Mariska. “You will remain in your quarters until you board the shuttle for Katnia.”

  A fate worse than being executed. “Father…”

  “You are not my daughter. Do not address me in that manner again.”

  He had never held her in high esteem. In any esteem. But to disown her? The last of her ties had been severed. The last of her doubts. She bowed to shield her expression.

  “You are not the fruit of my loins,” he said.

  Her head snapped up.

  “I did not sire you. May the Great One forgive me. In my dissolute youth, I took an infidel, a Terran, as a mate, unknowing she’d already been impregnated. I would have destroyed you at birth if the Great One in His mysterious way had not marked you for salvation.”

  “I’m Terran?” Beneath the veil, she dropped her jaw.

  Obido strode to his chair and sank into it. He gestured at Vison. “Remove the Terran. Ensure she remains in her quarters until you can ship her to Katnia.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kai’s knees threatened to cave, but he was standing and that’s what counted.

  No, what counted was getting out of the lab. He had a hunch he was slated for the bot recycling program. Progressive practice in theory. Not so good when you weren’t actually a robot and the secrets in your head could lead to the fall of the free galaxy.

  He stumbled to the door, his legs wobbling like they were held together by loose rubber bands, and slapped his palm against the exit scanner.

  Nothing.

  For a deactivated droid to open the door might have raised an alarm. Better to take care of business before he blew this joint.

  He ransacked the lab, tearing open drawers and cabinets in search of a usable implement. Large machines were used to unscrew, cut, and solder parts back together, but Kai needed a hand tool.

  Just his luck. Lots of gadgets, but nary a laser scalpel. Not that he’d expected one, but the lab should have something sharp. He’d begun to wonder if he should try sliding under one of the cutting machines, when he opened the last drawer and found a small helical bolt remover with a thin, flat head.

  This would work. He also grabbed a pair of extractors and a tube of adhesive. He kicked the drawer shut and nearly toppled over. His legs still weren’t right. Neither was his cyberbrain, which emitted an irritating whine. He didn’t think he’d lost any data, but he hadn’t regained full function yet. He’d tried sending out a distress signal again, but communications systems were still down.

  He clenched and released his hand and wiggled his fingers. Fortunately, his upper extremities seemed to have regained near-full dexterity. He’d hate to cut into an artery by mistake.

  Leaning against the cabinet for support, he stripped naked. If he could wait for full microprocessor function, nanocytes could be directed to deaden the pain. Human intuition told him time was a luxury out of his pay grade. With the helical bolt remover, he sliced into his chest over his right pectoral muscle. Blood spurted, and he gritted his teeth as he widened the incision. With a pair of grippers, he rooted around until he found the chip and yanked it out. Holding the wound closed with his fingers, he squirted sealant over the jagged cut.

  “Motherfucker!” Son-of-a-bitch that stung. He waited until he was sure the seal would hold then wiped his bloody hands on a cloth smelling of oil. He hoisted the largest of the deactivated androids onto the metal table. After opening its chest, he shoved the chip inside, closed the panel, dressed the android in his clothing, and flipped it face-down.

  The ruse wouldn’t fool anybody for long, but it might buy a few minutes and, when every second counted, that was a lot. Kai donned the android’s discarded uniform. The incision tingled, a signal his nanocytes had sped to the site to heal the wound.

  His legs were growing stronger, another positive sign. He eyed the bodies and parts. Depending on how and why they had been deactivated, some of them might retain access privileges. He grabbed several robot arms and swept the palms over the scanner. Nothing. So much for that theory. He tossed them back into the tub where he’d found them.

  He ran his hands over the door. Solid metal, titanium fortified with a composite substrate. Impenetrable—even to a cyborg with super strength. That was the bad news.

  The good news? His microprocessor had provided the bad news. His cyberbrain had been able to conduct an analysis. His electronics were coming back online. Maybe he could speed up the repair process, perhaps enhance his programming a bit…or fashion a weapon? Kai cracked his knuckles. There were enough electronics in the lab to build almost anything.

  But he’d better hurry.

  Someone would come soon. A hunch told him it wouldn’t be an android. He would be ready. The first Lamis-Odg to come through the door was going to end up dead.

  * * * *

  Two armed droids escorted Mariska back to her quarters. All the furniture, dressings, and adornments had been removed during her interrogation. Nothing of comfort, sentiment, or aesthetic value remained.

  She darted her gaze to the sleeping chamber. Had they taken the bed?

  “You will remain here,” one of the bots said. “Meals will be delivered.”

  At least her father wasn’t planning on starving her to death.

  Not my father. I am not even Lamis-Odg. The news, while a shock, came as a huge relief. I am not the spawn of an iwani.

  It also meant he would show her no mercy. But when had he ever?

  Oh, Kai. Though their time together had been short, her feelings were deep and could not be erased by his death. If only she’d known when they were together that they shared more than circumstances. They were of the same species. They shared a kinship with a people, a history, and a homeland. Her heart ached for her loss and for what she still had to do.

  The droids left, and, after a quick, futile hand swipe to the pad confirmed she was a prisoner, she dashed for the sleep chamber. Her bed, stripped of its coverings, remained. She flipped over the denuded cushion. If they’d found the weapons she’d appropriated from
the Panthera…

  She thrust her hand into a slit in the padding and expelled a sigh of relief. Still there. If her cache had been found, the general would already have executed her. She righted the bedding then lifted her skirts, removed the blaster, and stuck it in her pocket where it would be more accessible. She could have shot the droids and escaped, but haste would not serve her larger purpose. Wait for the right moment to attack—that’s what Kai or Dale would recommend.

  Nerves tingled with purpose. She could fulfill Dale’s request and destroy Kai’s body so its technology couldn’t be directed against the galaxy.

  It had taken every micron of restraint to not whip out the blaster and shoot Obido in his office. Only the certainty Vison would have killed her prevented it. It might have been worth it, but she had a goal to accomplish, so she’d kept her cool. As insurance, a potential diversion, she’d planted a microexplosive device.

  Dale’s tutoring had been invaluable.

  With the android soldier waiting for her on Darius 4, her time aboard the Panthera had been limited, but she’d used the computer to open a frequency to Deceptio, like Dale had taught her.

  “Mariska, what’s happening?” he’d asked.

  “My father k-k-killed Kai.”

  “Fuck. Are you hurt? Where are you? Are you safe?”

  “I’m not hurt. We-I’m on Darius 4. My father’s forces stormed the planet, broke the domes. An android soldier shot Kai. I’m being taken to the space station.”

  “Are you certain he’s dead?”

  His eyes had been so still, so vacant. “Yes.”

  “This is painful for you, but I have to ask. What happened to his body?”

  “It’s still in the cabana.”

  “Listen, this is critical. Kai is not just Terran. He’s an operative with Cyber-Operations. He’s a cyborg. Even though he’s dead, his electronic systems must not fall into enemy hands. Is there a chance you could destroy the body?”

  “No. I can’t go back to the hut.”