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                                 Abiogenesis 

                            by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



                      New Concepts Publishing 



             www.newconceptspublishing.com 



          Copyright 2004 by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



  First published by New Concepts Publishing, May 

                                   2004 



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                                         Abiogenesis 

                                    by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



                                     ABIOGENESIS 



                                                by 



                                   Kaitlyn O'Connor 



 Copyright by Kaitlyn O'Connor, May 2004 



Cover Art by Jenny Dixon 



ISBN 1-58608-479-8 



New Concepts Publishing 



www.newconceptspublishing.com 



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                                 Abiogenesis 

                             by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



                               Chapter One 



    Dalia VH570 stared at the bright, white light above her, 



watching it flicker as she felt her thoughts dissolve into the 



same nothingness as the whiteness that surrounded her. She 



had always hated physical examinations. She just wasn't 



certain why. 



    The prick of something sharp jolted Dalia into sudden, 



crystal clear alertness and the absolute certainty of danger. 



Opening her eyes, she surveyed her surroundings, searching 



for the threat she sensed. 



    She was still in the examination room, but she was bound 



to the table now. Turning her head, she looked at the man 



who'd just stabbed a syringe into her arm. 



    Her movement brought his gaze to hers, and she saw his 



eyes dilate instantly with fear, guilt, and the certainty that he 



was looking into the face of death. His reaction forced a 



healthy shot of adrenaline through her body and her heart 



leapt into overtime, pumping it through her. Gritting her 



teeth, she concentrated, tensing every muscle and sinew in 



her body, and heaved upward, breaking the restraints. The 



technician was still staring at her stupidly when she gripped 



his hand. Snatching the syringe from her arm, she drove it 



into his carotid artery, depressing the plunger. 



    His eyes rolled back into his head. The saliva in his mouth 



boiled, foaming, spilling between his gasping lips. She sat up, 



grasping his throat, half lifting him from the floor. You tried 



to kill me. Why? 



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    His mouth worked. He gagged, coughed up spittle and 



blood. Help me, he pleaded. 



    Dalia shook him. First tell me why. 



    Gestating ... you're gestating. Never supposed to be 



able.... 



    She stared at him blankly, trying to understand the word, 



trying to figure out what it had to do with his attempt to kill 



her. What is this word? 



    Reproduction. To bear young, he gasped, clawing at her 



hand frantically. 



    She dropped him, staring down at him as he sprawled on 



the floor beside the gurney she sat on. Tossing the sterile 



sheet off that had covered her, she slipped to the floor. A 



child? A baby? You tried to kill me because I'm ... breeding? 



It's only a fifty thousand credit fine! 



    He shook his head frantically. Not human. Not human. 



    She stared at him uncomprehendingly for several moments 



but finally lifted her head, realizing at last that the alert was 



sounding, had been since she'd broken her restraints. She 



blinked, calculating the time. Anywhere from three to five 



minutes had passed. The exits would be blocked by now and 



guarded. A contingent of guards would be racing toward this 



room. 



    She glanced down at the technician, but he'd stopped 



gurgling. His eyes were wide and staring now. 



    A wave of nausea washed over her. That should have been 



her. It would have been if she hadn't awakened when he'd 



speared her with the needle. She'd never killed another 



human being before, though, and she couldn't decide whether 



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she was more horrified at having a hand in his death, revolted 



by what a human being looked like in their death throes, or 



because she'd been a hair's breadth from experiencing rather 



than witnessing. She didn't have time to analyze her distress, 



however. Shelving it for the moment, she glanced around the 



examination room, but no windows magically appeared. There 



was still only the one door. 



    She checked the walls, the floor, the ceiling. 



    Why had she allowed them to take her into a room with 



only one exit? Her training had taught her better. It was 



stupid to have relaxed her guard only because the med lab 



belonged to the company, the company she killed for. 



    She'd never trusted the damned company. 



    Leaping up onto the examination table, she reached up 



toward the ceiling and realized she was still too short. She 



could just touch the tiles above her with her fingertips. She 



went up on her tiptoes, bounced. Finally, she managed to 



dislodge the panel above her. It was a suspended ceiling, she 



saw, held aloft by thin wires. She seriously doubted it would 



hold her weight, but she was out of options. 



    Leaping up again, she caught the frame that had held the 



tile. As she'd more than half expected, it buckled, bringing 



down a rain of tiles around her. 



    The sound of running feet, many feet, came to her. It must 



be a full squad. 



    Good, she decided. The noise they were making would 



help to cover the noise she made. Leaping down from the 



examination table, she raced across the room, bent her knees 



and leapt upward, her arms extended. She crashed through 



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the tile. It hit the floor around her. The wall, she saw went all 



the way up, approximately ten feet. Metal girders supported 



the floor above her. 



    It was the girders or nothing. 



    Whirling, she raced back toward the examination table, hit 



it flat footed and leapt upward, catching the bottom of a 



girder. With an effort, she pulled herself up, but she saw the 



space was too small for her to walk her way across hanging 



by her hands. Supporting most of her weight from her arms, 



she pulled her legs up and swung until she could hook her 



heels along the girder, as well. 



    It was dark above the ceiling, particularly since she had 



only just come from a room blindingly white, but she had 



excellent night vision. She focused her eyes and looked 



around. As far as she could see, there was nothing but 



girders, pipe, electrical wires and ductwork. The ductwork was 



too small to crawl through, and too light to support her 



weight. 



    She closed her eyes, mentally tracing her path through the 



building and into the examination room. Only a corridor 



separated her from the closest outer wall of the building, but 



the guards were racing down that path. She took the opposite 



direction. It was a good deal further from the outer wall, but 



it was also less likely that guards would be stationed there. 



    Moving swiftly now, she crawled, spider like beneath the 



beam until she'd reached the wall she'd seen on the other 



side. She turned then, following it until she found an opening. 



A catwalk ran through it and she dropped down onto it. 



Looking in first one direction and then the other, she finally 



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decided to continue as she'd begun and crawled through the 



opening. She'd only just cleared it when she heard the guards 



pounding on the examination room door. Crouching low, she 



ran as fast as she could. 



    It wouldn't take them long to figure out she was in the 



overhead ceiling and probably not much more than that to 



realize that the only way she could traverse it was along the 



catwalk. 



    She heard them behind her before she reached the outer 



wall. 



    Dropping to her stomach, she reached for the closest 



ceiling tile and lifted it up just enough to study the room 



beneath her. 



    It was occupied. A woman was lying on an examination 



table, just as Dalia had been only minutes before. 



    She didn't have time to be picky. 



    Rolling off the catwalk, she dropped through the ceiling, 



landing in a half crouch on the floor. Startled, the woman sat 



up, opening her mouth to scream. Dalia leapt at her, covering 



the woman's mouth with one hand and pinching the woman's 



carotid artery with the other. The moment the woman's eyes 



rolled back in her head, Dalia released her and looked around, 



absently checking the woman's pulse to make certain she 



hadn't killed her. 



    This room had both a window and a door. She moved to 



the window first, pulled the window covering aside and looked 



out. She was on the sixtieth floor, about half way up the 



building, more or less. The outside of the building was as 



smooth as glass. Windows broke the monotony every ten feet 



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or so, but most likely every one was fixed just as this one was 



and could not be opened and were probably nearly as 



impossible to break. 



    She couldn't fly, so that was out. 



    There was no point in trying to go down. They would be 



waiting for her. Up would only work if there were crafts on the 



roof. 



    It was a med lad. There were probably a half a dozen or 



more on the roof at any time. 



    There was one slight problem. 



    She didn't have a stitch of clothing on and that was bound 



to draw attention. Shrugging, she helped herself to the tunic 



and trousers the woman had been wearing. They were too 



big, but it wouldn't be nearly as noticeable as being naked. 



The woman's shoes were too big, too. It was too risky to wear 



them, she decided. They would slow her down at the very 



least. At worst, the shoes could trip her if she needed to run. 



She slipped the stockings on to cover her bare feet and make 



them less noticeable, then moved to the door, opening it a 



crack. 



    No one seemed terribly excited. She saw a couple of techs 



strolling along one end of the corridor, notepads in hand. 



There was a knot of them at one end of the corridor, waiting, 



she realized, for an elevator or having just gotten off one. 



    Obviously, security still thought they had the danger 



contained on the other side of the firewall that ran down the 



building. 



    Stepping from the room, she walked casually toward the 



row of elevators and punched the button that would summon 



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one going up. As she stood waiting, several more people 



joined her, staring up at the display panel above the doors. 



Turning her head just enough she could examine each of 



them in her peripheral vision, she relaxed fractionally. There 



was no sign of security guards ... yet. 



    Impatience began to gnaw at her. She'd just decided to 



find the stairs and take them up several flights when the bells 



on three of the elevators dinged, announcing the arrival of 



the cubicles. Having already turned away and taken a step 



down the corridor toward the sign marked exit', she glanced 



inside the elevator she'd been standing in front of as the 



doors slowly began to open. 



    It was packed with guards ... and the one in front was 



holding a tracker. He glanced up as she strode away, his eyes 



locking on her for about two seconds. Shoving anyone aside 



who lay in her path, she broke into a run as she heard the 



guards launch themselves against the opening doors, trying 



to squeeze through all at once and succeeding only in 



bottlenecking the exit. 



    The doors on the fourth elevator had already begun to 



close as she reached it. She leapt through the rapidly 



narrowing opening. The timing was perfect. She'd barely 



landed inside when the doors slammed closed. Her last view 



of the corridor, however, had been of the guards charging the 



elevator. 



    They'd spotted her. They would reroute it, she knew. 



    Ignoring the gasps and protests of the four people already 



in the elevator when she'd jumped in, she moved to the 



control panel, studied it a moment and finally speared her 



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fingers through the holes drilled for the buttons, grasped the 



panel firmly and pulled it out of the wall, exposing the 



circuits. Almost simultaneously, the elevator lights blinked 



and the cubicle ground to a halt. 



    They'd already tied in. 



    Glancing over the circuits, she saw immediately that there 



was no way to rewire it. She grasped the panel and wrenched 



it out, tossing it to one side and evoking a round of screams 



from the women in the group. Grasping the main feed, she 



pulled on the wire until she had enough to reach, then 



stripped the insulation from the end, felt behind her head 



until she found the jack and plugged directly into the 



computer. 



    It took thirty seconds to override their override, and 



another five to lock them out. As the elevator jolted into 



motion again, Dalia examined the database and found that 



there were four crafts on the roof, fueled and prepped to go. 



One of the elevators was already on the roof. The other two 



were on the ground level and the tenth floor. 



    She was about to log out when it occurred to her that now 



was her opportunity to discover what the computer knew 



about her situation. The CPU inside her brain began displaying 



images before her eyes almost instantly. 



    Gestation was an archaic form of reproduction that had 



been practiced by the human race until the last century. The 



fertilized ovum attached itself inside the female's body, within 



a cavity known as the womb, and lived off of the female's 



body until it reached a state of maturity that would allow it to 



survive on its own. 



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    Dalia frowned. How is the parasite introduced into the host 



to begin with? 



    Male and female each carried an element, the female an 



egg or ovum, which contained the DNA of the female host. 



The male donor provided sperm, which contained the male's 



DNA and would activate the egg and set off a chain reaction. 



The male would deliver his DNA via sexual intercourse. 



    Dalia mulled that over for a moment. She hadn't engaged 



in sex, at all. It was prohibited by the company to anyone in 



her position, an infraction punishable by termination. She'd 



always assumed they meant termination of employment, 



however. In the event that the female did not have sexual 



intercourse with a male, was there another method of 



delivery? Or was it possible for the female to manipulate the 



ovum herself and induce it to begin to replicate cells? 



    This method of reproduction was imprecise. Often the 



female would become impregnated when reproduction was 



infeasible or undesirable due to economic, health or social 



conditions. Occasionally, the male or female who wished to 



reproduce would be found to be infertile. If the male was 



infertile, and unable to provide his DNA, a donor would be 



found who was a desirable substitute and his DNA would be 



introduced into the female via medical procedure. 



    It still didn't make any sense to her. They'd impregnated 



her and now had decided to terminate both her and the 



pregnancy? She shook it off. She didn't have time to study it 



now. Status? 



                        th 

    Passing the 100   floor. 



    Locate the guards for me. 



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                                by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



                                                                 th 

    Ten in elevator number one, passing the 15   floor. Five in 



                                                      th 

elevator number three, passing the 40   floor. Five on 



elevator number two, egressing onto the roof now. Thirty on 



the ground floor level. 



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                               Chapter Two 



    Dalia removed the jack and turned to study the other 



passengers. They were huddled into one corner, staring at 



her as if she was some sort of monster. She supposed she 



could see their point, but it irritated the hell out of her 



anyway. 



    She had maybe five minutes before they reached the roof. 



That meant they had five minutes to deploy and be waiting 



for her. She could stop the elevator and take the stairs, but 



she wasn't certain that would give her any advantage. Even 



though she'd locked them out of the computer system, they 



would probably be expecting the possibility and have that exit 



covered too. 



    There was no cover for them on the roof beyond the craft 



moored there, but then they must know she was unarmed. 



There wasn't any reason for them to take cover except as a 



precaution in case she'd somehow located a weapon. 



    She finally decided they would probably assume assault 



positions anyway. The only thing you could count on about 



militia was that they always went by the book, and they 



always followed orders. Obviously, they didn't want or need 



to take her alive. They wanted her dead. That meant they 



would be stationed and ready to catch her in a crossfire. 



    She glanced at the other passengers speculatively, but she 



knew they were as expendable as she was. The objective 



wasn't to slaughter them, but the security guards weren't 



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                             by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



likely to quibble about having to go through them to get her, 



so using them as a shield was out. 



    Besides, she didn't want to be responsible for their deaths. 



    They're waiting for me on the roof. If you don't want to 



die today, lie down on the floor as flat as you can and clasp 



your hands on top of your heads. With any luck, the fire will 



miss you. They gaped at her uncomprehendingly for several 



moments, then scrambled to comply, fighting briefly over who 



would have the position closest to the door. As she felt the 



elevator decelerating, Dalia jumped up onto the handrail that 



ran around the cubicle, bracing her hands above her head to 



balance herself. 



    The moment the door began to open, laser fire pelted the 



interior of the cubicle, covering almost every square inch of 



the walls from about one foot up to the ceiling. The side of 



the elevator protected Dalia as she'd hoped it would. She held 



her breath, waiting until she heard some call a cease fire, 



allowing the seconds to tick off as she envisioned them slowly 



stepping from their cover, advancing far enough to look into 



the elevator to see if they'd gotten her. 



    The bodies on the floor would confuse them, hopefully, for 



critical moments. 



    The trick was to time it precisely, move before they 



realized she wasn't one of the bodies lying on the floor of the 



elevator. 



    She held her breath, focusing on listening and interpreting 



the sounds she heard since she couldn't see; cautious, 



carefully placed footstepsthree pair. Two were still under 



cover. 



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    Abruptly, she swung into action, landing on the floor of the 



elevator and bursting through the doors as they began to 



close once more. As she'd hoped, she caught them completely 



off guard. The three closest to the elevator opened their eyes 



and mouths wide in surprise. She hit the first one full tilt, 



bowling him over. She clotheslined the second with an 



extended arm, grabbing his weapon from his slackened grip 



even as he executed a flip. The third man, she took out with 



the butt of the weapon she'd grabbed. She whirled in a circle 



then, laying out random fire and catching the remaining two 



guards even as they finally managed to begin firing on her. 



    Within moments, five dead or groaning men lay on the 



flight deck. Gasping for breath, she surveyed them, her hands 



on her hips. Never send a man to do a cyborg's job, she 



muttered in satisfaction, but then mentally shrugged. She 



was a rogue hunter, trained and bio-technologically enhanced 



to bring down rogue cyborgs, and she would've still had her 



hands full if they had sent even two. It was fortunate for her 



that they'd made an error in judgment and sent men instead. 



    She frowned. They either hadn't anticipated having any 



problem terminating herwhich seemed unlikely given her 



training, or the decision to terminate her was of short 



standing. 



    Shaking off her questions and the weariness and apathy in 



the aftermath of battle, Dalia moved over them, quickly 



collecting their weapons and then headed for the nearest 



craft. Tossing the weapons into the patient bay of the 



ambulance craft, she scrambled into the cockpit, examined 



the layout to identify the craft and began flipping switches to 



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activate the engines. Even as the craft began to lift off, the 



doors of one of the other elevators opened and men began to 



pour out, firing at her. 



    She punched the craft into hyper acceleration and it shot 



upwards and away in a sharp slingshot like motionnot, 



unfortunately, before it caught a dozen hits. The craft almost 



immediately became unstable and she knew they'd managed 



to hit something critical. Struggling to keep it level, she 



allowed it to drop toward the upper level traffic airway forty 



floors below her. 



    Bright dots lit up her radar screen both above and below 



her, looking like a swarm of insects. She glanced up through 



the viewing bubble and counted two crafts descending fast. 



They were ambulances like the one she'd taken, and the craft 



itself had no firepower. As long as she didn't let them get 



close enough to catch her in the sights of their handheld 



weapons, the risk of taking another hit was slim. 



    She wasn't certain if the craft needed another hit to bring 



it down, however. It began bucking and jolting as she hit the 



airway. The computer failed to adjust to oncoming traffic and 



she slammed into the protective force field of another craft, 



bounced off of it and ping ponged against three more before 



she dropped beneath the airway in a forward gliding descent. 



    In truth, it wasn't much of a glide. The craft continued to 



bounce and drop erratically in a controlled crash, as if it were 



striking solid objects instead of air currents. She managed to 



drop through the mid-level airway without incident, mostly 



because the heavy traffic was on the third level she'd already 



passed. A layer of greenish-yellow smog lay below her, 



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                             by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



obscuring her view of the lower airway. She landed on the 



roof of a passing craft when she reached the lowest level, was 



repelled by the protective field that surrounded it and nose 



dived through the airway, free falling for some twenty feet 



before she managed to kick the ambulance craft in the ass 



and get it going again. 



    Androids, cyborgs and pedestrians thronged the walks 



below her. When they looked up and saw her craft falling 



toward them, they scattered like fall leaves caught in a strong 



cross windin every direction. Despite that, she managed to 



set the craft down on the walk without smearing anyone. It's 



forward momentum responded sluggishly to her attempts to 



brake, however, and the craft slid along the walk for nearly a 



hundred yards before coming to rest against the base of one 



of the buildings that surrounded the walks like mountains, 



blocking so much of the light that the ground level lay in 



perpetual night except for artificial lighting. 



    The moment the craft finally stopped, Dalia threw off her 



restraints and struggled to stand. As far as she could tell she 



had suffered no more than bruises and a few minor cuts, but 



she knew adrenaline was pushing her now. She could be hurt 



much worse and not know it right away. 



    Regardless, she had to put as much distance between 



herself and the craft as possible before the guards caught up 



with her. Sorting through the weapons, she grabbed the two 



that had the fullest charges, slung one on each shoulder and 



scrambled out of the craft. Gawkers had already begun to 



converge on the downed craft when she emerged. Ignoring 



them, she strode purposefully toward the group milling about 



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and pushed through. They parted before her, as if they feared 



she might be contaminated with something. 



    When she'd cleared the crowd, she broke into a jog and 



finally a run, glancing to her left and right each time she 



passed a narrow alley in search of one that was unoccupied. 



She'd begun to despair that there was even so much as a 



square inch of ground level space not inhabited when she 



raced past a vacant throughway. Stopping abruptly, she 



reversed directions and raced down it till she came to the first 



intersection. She began to weave her way back and forth 



through the narrow alleys until she came at last to the slum 



area of the city. 



    It, too, was occupied, but by the denizens of the darkthe 



subhuman culture the upstanding citizens of the city were 



prone to consider did not exist. Unless the company was 



offering a reward for her, it was unlikely anyone would be 



interested enough in her to give the guards searching for her 



any tips. 



    Of course, they wouldn't need any information if she 



couldn't get rid of the locator surgically implanted in her hip, 



but she couldn't get rid of it until she could shake her pursuit 



long enough to stop. 



    Added to that little problem was the fact that she'd had to 



leave without her uniformwhich held a med kit. 



    Tired now, she slowed to a brisk walk, stopping each time 



she found a derelict sprawled drunkenly on the walk and 



checking him for a knife. She found a razor on the second 



man she checked and studied it doubtfully. It was rusted, and 



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she wasn't certain it could cut deeply enough, but beggars 



couldn't be choosers. 



    Straightening, she looked around for a lighted area and 



moved toward it. She didn't like the idea of standing in the 



light, but she didn't want to butcher her hip either. She 



needed the light to see what she was doing. After scanning 



the immediate area for threat and deciding it was minimal, 



she set her weapons down, shucked the trousers and probed 



the flesh of her hip until she found the locator. 



    Without giving herself time to think it over, she sliced the 



flesh as deeply as the razor would cut. Seconds passed before 



the pain caught up with her brain. She'd already dug her 



fingers into the cut, grasped the locator and yanked it free of 



the bone before fire poured through her. Gasping at the wave 



of dizziness that washed over her, she dropped the locator to 



the pavement, picked up one of the weapons and smashed it 



with the butt. 



    Blood was gushing from the cut. She studied it for several 



moments, but she knew there were no major veins in that 



area. Regardless, she couldn't allow it to continue to bleed. 



They'd be able to follow the blood trail almost as easily as the 



locator. Then, too, she might run out of fluids before she 



managed to get hold of a medical kit. 



    She didn't like it, but she didn't have any options. Lifting 



the weapon, she set it on its lowest setting and carefully sited 



it along the cut, firing off one quick burst. 



    The pain didn't take nearly as much time to reach her 



brain that time. She staggered back and fell to her knees, 



fighting the blackness that threatened to overwhelm her. 



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    Dimly, she saw she'd attracted some attention from the 



local lowlifes. Lifting the weapon with an effort, she fired off 



several warning shots. When they scattered, she grabbed her 



trousers and the other weapon and began moving again. She 



wanted nothing so much as to crash somewhere, if only for 



fifteen or twenty minutes, but she couldn't afford the luxury 



until she'd put a lot of distance between herself and the 



locator she'd just destroyed. Her pursuit would almost 



certainly have triangulated on that position by now. 



    The faintness didn't recede. She had to fight it every step 



of the way. Finally, she managed to put at least a mile 



between her and the locator, before she reached a point 



where she knew she couldn't go another step without falling 



on her face. 



    Pausing, she leaned back against the wall of a building and 



searched the area. She hadn't seen anyone in a while, but 



that didn't mean they weren't there, watching, waiting for her 



to let her guard down so that they could steal anything she 



had of value and probably kill her in the process. 



    The building she was leaning against was ancient, 



deserted, crumbling. She climbed through the nearest 



opening and studied it, moving slowly through, her weapon at 



the ready. Skittering noises filtered to her from time to time, 



but she thought it must be some sort of animals. They didn't 



make enough noise to be human. 



    She came upon a partial stair leading upward and debated 



briefly whether it would be better to find a hiding place on 



one of the other floors or on the ground floor. Finally, she 



decided to try the second floor. It would give her a little lead 



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                             by Kaitlyn O'Connor 



time if she heard anyone coming. She could, if she had to, 



jump from the second floor without doing too much damage 



to herself ... as long as she was careful to land correctly. 



    Shouldering her weapon, she placed her back against the 



wall and moved carefully from step to step until she reached 



a gap. Checking the strength of the handrail to see if it would 



support her if the stair collapsed, she leapt the distance, 



coming down on her wounded hip. Her knee buckled, but she 



managed to catch herself with the railing. 



    When she'd reached the top, she turned to study the stairs 



and finally pulled one of the weapons from her shoulder and 



cut a larger section out. It would be far easier, she knew, for 



her to leap the hole downward than for anyone to leap it 



coming up. She found another set of stairs near the rear of 



the building, or rather a stairwell. Those stairs were 



completely gone. 



    The place reeked of death. As tempted as she was to just 



find a corner and collapse, she knew she couldn't rest until 



she'd assured herself she had the place to herself. The 



building had looked like it had at least six floors, even as 



ancient as it was, but there were only two floors accessible 



from the floor she was on. The upper floors had begun to 



slowly collapse down upon each other. 



    She found a badly decomposed body two floors up, which 



explained the god-awful smell and the lack of other 



occupants. 



    Relieved, she made her way down again, found a 



comfortable corner that was relatively free of debris, and 



collapsed. She'd hardly even settled when blackness closed in 



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around her. She was disoriented for several moments when 



she woke. Sluggishly, her mind kicked in and memory flooded 



back to her. She had no idea how long she'd sleptthere 



wasn't enough sunlight filtering so far beneath the city to 



judge from the sun's movement. She could've been out mere 



minutes, or hours, or even daysbut she struggled to her 



feet and checked her perimeter. 



    Satisfied that they hadn't discovered her and surrounded 



the building while she rested, she found a corner to relieve 



herself and then returned to her corner and sat down to 



figure out what options she might have. 



    There weren't a lot. She didn't know why they wanted her 



dead, but they seemed pretty damned set on seeing it done. 



    The tech had seemed to indicate that it was because she 



was gestating, but that was nearly as inconceivable as the 



fact that she was gestating at all. No one bore young 



anymore. It was too unpredictable and too inconvenient. If 



they happened to want one, they bought a permit and 



ordered one from the med lab. They hadn't practiced the 



natural way of doing it in nearly a century. As far as she 



knew, though, there was no law against it, certainly not a 



death sentence, anyway. 



    She wouldn't have been surprised if they'd arrested her for 



breeding without a permit. She would've expected something 



like that, if she'd been engaging in sexual activity and stupid 



enough to do it without protection. But that would've been 



followed by a brief trial, maybe, and then release as soon as 



she coughed up the fine and bought a permit. 



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    Maybe it was a law that was still on the books, but hadn't 



been used in so long that nobody, except the lawmakers and 



the law enforcers, even knew it was there anymore? 



    It seemed possible. The morons never got rid of laws. 



They just made more when the need arose. There were laws 



still on the books, she knew, from centuries before, laws that 



people didn't even understand anymore because nothing they 



pertained to even existed now. 



    Briefly, she wondered if there was any way to remove the 



parasite, but it occurred to her fairly quickly that that wasn't 



going to help. If there'd been a way, or if that would've made 



a difference, they would have done that instead of deciding to 



kill her. She hadn't come cheap. The company had spent a lot 



of money training her to be a rogue hunter, and even more 



bioengineering her for strength, stamina, high pain tolerance, 



computer assisted mental capabilities, and a broader hearing 



and sight range. 



    Anyway, she felt strangely possessive about it. She didn't 



know why, and she didn't really want to examine it at the 



moment. But she did know she didn't want to make any kind 



of decision about, possibly, removing it until she'd had time to 



think it through and consider every possibility. 



    Besides, the tech had been dying. How much faith could 



she place in anything he'd told her? The company's reasons 



for trying to terminate her could be something else entirely. 



    Unfortunately, no amount of carefully reconstructing her 



actions over the past month, or the month before that, 



produced any possibilities. She hadn't failed her last mission 



and, even if she had, punishment for failure was only a death 



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sentence if the rogue dealt it out. The company was content 



to fine her all her pay and half her previous paycheck. 



    Shaking her head, Dalia finally decided she couldn't waste 



time trying to figure it out. It was enough to know she was 



dead if ... when they caught her. The only chance that she 



could see of turning the when to if was if she managed to 



get off world. Sooner or later, if she stayed, they were going 



to catch her, with or without the locator. 



    She could die a slow death here without food or water, or 



risk getting caught going for supplies. One retina scan and 



she was done for. Besides, she wouldn't be able to buy 



anything without having her barcode scanned, even in the 



black market, and once they had that, they'd have a bead on 



her location. 



    They would be expecting her to try to get off planet, 



though. 



    Her only chance, as far as she could see, was to locate a 



smuggler and either take the ship, or bargain a ride, and that 



meant she was going to have to figure out a way out of the 



dome. 



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                              Chapter Three 



    It took her almost a week to locate a man who claimed he 



not only knew a way out of the dome undetected, but also 



knew where the smugglers usually landed. It stood to reason 



that he would since there wouldn't be any other reason for 



leaving the protection of the dome. 



    The problem was, Dalia had nothing to bargain with. She 



finally convinced him to take her, however, by telling him if 



he did she wouldn't blow his head off. He wasn't terribly 



thrilled with the bargain, but he led her through the tunnels 



that eventually carried them beyond the city without 



detection. 



    By that time she had no problem blending with the 



natives. She'd had very little to eat, very little sleep, no 



access to bathing facilities and, since the clothes she was 



standing in were all she had, she looked as ragged and 



unkempt as everyone else. She didn't like it, but she was 



inclined to see it as an advantage. 



    The quality of the air inside the dome wasn't that great in 



the lower regions, but the air beyond the dome was the next 



thing to unbreathable. She still had her weapons, but the lack 



of a mask put her at a distinct disadvantage when the 



smugglers had more manpower and firepower at their 



disposal than she did. 



    The moment they reached the landing area, she saw 



immediately that simply blending wasn't going to be enough. 



There was no way she was going to get close enough to 



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either overpower the smugglers and steal a ship, or slip on 



board. Releasing her guide', she watched until she was 



certain he was headed back the way they'd come and 



wouldn't alert the smugglers, and then settled down to study 



them and watch for an opportunity. 



    She'd been fully aware that smuggling was rife, but she 



hadn't realized that trafficking in stolen and/or illegal 



merchandise was done on quite as grand a scale as this. 



When she arrived, a large ship was already at the rendezvous 



point. More than a dozen smugglers had piled off of it. A third 



were busy unloading, a third loading new merchandise and 



the rest pacing restlessly about the activities with some fairly 



intimidating firepower. 



    Before they had even completed their business, a second 



craft nearly as large set down at a little distance and 



proceeded pretty much as the first had, off loading on one 



side and on loading on the other. 



    With decent air, or a mask, she might have been able to 



take four or five men. She wasn't stupid enough, or desperate 



enough to consider taking on crews as large as this, 



particularly when she was fairly certain that it would take no 



more than a hint of threat for them to combine forces. 



    She had very little food, however, and not a great deal of 



time. After a little while, she decided to change positions and 



see if another position would provide her with a better 



opportunity. 



    To her surprise, it did, but it had nothing to do with either 



of the two large ships she'd been watching. As she made her 



way around the perimeter, a relatively small, very sleek, 



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racer settled into the rubble-strewn field at a little distance 



from the other two ships. 



    This might be doable. 



    The craft was designed for short, very fast hops, from 



planet to planetand required no more than a pilot as crew 



or perhaps a pilot and copilot. There was no way it was being 



employed to haul cargo. It was too small to carry much and 



too short-range to go farunless the pilot was insane enough 



to use the wormholeswhich, upon reflection, she supposed 



he must. 



    If the pilot was smuggling anything, it was human cargo 



escaped slaves or criminals fleeing justiceor possibly rogue 



cyborgs. He would want privacy to load his cargo. The fact 



that he'd landed so far from the other two ships seemed to 



bear up her theory. 



    She settled down to wait. It wasn't until the first of the two 



larger ships had lifted off that the gangplank was finally let 



down. Minutes passed. Finally, a man appeared at the top of 



the gangplank, stood looking out for several moments, and 



finally sauntered almost casually down the gangplank and 



stepped off of it. 



    The only weapons he had on him were strapped to his 



waist, a pistol holstered on one side and a three-foot blade on 



the other. 



    She stared at the blade. It indicated a strong familiarity 



with some primitive culture somewhere in the universe, but 



she couldn't see it well enough from this distance to place it. 



Not that it mattered. In the first place, she didn't particularly 



care where she went so long as she could elude the company 



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for long enough to figure out what was going on and how it 



had come about that she'd suddenly become high on their list 



of public enemies. In the second, it supported the theory of 



rogues. 



    In general, cyborgs were at least half human, or half 



biological materials anyway, and all of that on the exterior, 



but anyone familiar with cyborgs could spot them within 



minutes. The were just ... not quite human, regardless of 



their appearance. It was often hard to put your finger on just 



what it was, but there was always something that gave them 



away, even to people not particularly looking or not 



particularly interested. The only way they could truly 



disappear was to find a culture too primitive to know what a 



cyborg was. 



    The question was, was he doing it for the money? For the 



adventure? Or because he was one of those fanatical assholes 



always trying to change the universe? 



    The latter made her want to puke. She despised fanatics, 



whatever their particular brand of insanity was, because they 



were not only incredibly boring and annoying, but they were 



also dangerous. They, almost inevitably, managed to 



convince huge numbers of followers to believe them and 



usually managed to get them killed. 



    At this particular moment, however, it could prove useful. 



    Money was a problem. She had plenty of credits saved up, 



but she wasn't certain it was enough to tempt a smuggler of 



this caliber. If it wasn't, and he scanned her barcode for the 



money, she would be located in short order. 



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    Finally, she decided to move a little closer and get a better 



look at him. 



    She managed to get several yards closer before she ran 



out of cover. She discovered it didn't particularly help her, 



however. Naturally enough, it was dark. Smugglers didn't 



land in the daylight, and it was smoggy as bedamned, as 



well. The poor visibility wasn't as much a problem, however, 



as the fact that her feminine side took that inopportune 



moment to kick in and completely distracted her. 



    He was, quite possibly, the finest specimen of a male she'd 



ever set eyes on. Even her male counterparts weren't 



generally so beautifully enhanced. Her first good look at him 



impacted on her as physically as if she'd been hit by a 



grenade concussion. She felt as if she'd been body slammed, 



too stunned to think for several moments. Finally, her training 



kicked in and she settled behind the pile of rubble and 



frowned, wondering what had just happened. 



    Not only was she certain she'd never had a reaction like 



that to a male before, she couldn't even remember 



experiencing anything even close. Her training had been 



thorough and nothing had been left to chance, certainly not 



something as predictable and inevitable as sexual attraction. 



Very little ever managed to break through her conditioning as 



a soldier and throw her off kilter. Some sort of chemical 



imbalance related to the gestation, she wondered? 



    The sounds of the second craft lifting off jogged her from 



her abstraction and into action. 



    She peered at the pilot, saw that he'd been distracted, as 



well, and began to move quickly around the ship while he 



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stood watching the ship's ascent. Coming upon him from 



behind, she placed the barrel of her weapon against the 



center of his back, directly over his heart. I need passage off 



of this rock, and I don't particularly care who I have to kill to 



get it. Take me, and I'll pay you for your trouble and you can 



get on with your life. Give me any trouble and I'll kill you. 



    The moment the barrel of her weapon dug into his back, 



he went perfectly still. As she finished her little speech, 



however, he moved, so fast her jaw didn't have time to drop 



in surprise, snatching her weapon from her hands so hard and 



fast she was surprised he didn't take her fingers with it. 



    I only take rogues, he said coolly, taking the weapon in 



both hands and bending it into a bow, as if it had been made 



of putty instead of titanium alloy. 



    Dalia glanced from the bent weapon into the face that had 



launched a million flyers. It was Reuel CO469, the first of his 



kind, the first cyborg rogue, the leader of all who'd come after 



him, and the only rogue nobody had even come close to 



catching in all the time she'd worked for the company. 



    Oh fuck! 



    A smile curled that devastating mouth. Stepping toward 



her, he grasped her arms, thrusting them behind her back 



and bringing her up hard against his massive chest. We 



could. On the other hand I'm waiting for someone and I really 



don't like being interrupted when I'm pleasuring a beautiful 



woman. 



    That wasn't an invitation, Dalia snapped. 



    His dark brows rose. No? He shook his head and finally 



shrugged. Machines! They can never quite grasp the 



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subtleties of human interaction, can they? That's what always 



gives us away. 



    She didn't believe for one moment that he'd interpreted 



her comment literally. He was, she realized with a touch of 



stunned amazement, amusing himself. Let go of me, she 



said through gritted teeth. 



    His smile vanished. I'm not even slightly tempted ... 



rogue hunter. 



    For the first time in her memory, Dalia felt real, 



unmitigated fear. I wouldn't be fleeing the city if I were. 



    The question is, are you fleeing the city? Or was this 



merely a clever ruse? 



    She gave him a look. I had my weapon on your back. I 



could've killed you then and there would've been no point in 



subterfuge. 



    Except that that wouldn't have gotten you into the rebel 



camp, would it, Dalia? 



    Dalia stared at him in dismay. She licked suddenly dry lips. 



My name's Kaya. 



    Your name is Dalia VH570 ... and you are a rogue hunter 



... gone rogue. 



    Of all the things he might have said, nothing could have 



stunned her more, or more surely inspired her to throw 



caution to the wind. I'm no rogue, she spat in disgust 



before she thought better of it. I'm human. 



    His mouth tightened until his lips were no more than a thin 



line. His nostrils flared as he dragged in a deep breath to calm 



his temper. You have enough contempt to be a rogue hunter, 



whatever you want to call yourself. 



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    Dalia twisted, testing his hold of her, but she was not the 



least surprised when he held her without any sign of difficulty. 



She supposed she should have simply accepted the fact that 



she was dead except for the dying part. He knew she was a 



rogue hunter. He wasn't going to simply let her go, and he 



wasn't going to take her with him. 



    Somehow, though, she found she simply could not give up 



or accept that she wasn't going to be able to find a way out of 



this. If you know about me, then you know I'm on the run. 



I'm no threat to you. 



    Not presently. But, then, you're assuming I believe any 



propaganda the company chooses to put out. I don't. He 



leaned close, placing his mouth near her ear. They lie, he 



whispered. 



    Her body obviously didn't know or care that he was a 



cyborg. The heat of his breath on her ear and his scent in her 



nostrils combined, sending a rush of heat and weakness 



through her that couldn't be interpreted as anything but 



desire. 



    An unaccustomed spurt of panic followed that confusing 



reaction. Dalia struggled to free her hands again. She was too 



much shorter than him, and too close, for a head butt to have 



any effect on him. More likely, she'd end up knocking herself 



out. Finding after only a few moments that she was having no 



appreciable effect, she desisted again, panting with effort. 



What are you going to do with me? 



    His arms tightened. Slowly, he lowered his head until his 



mouth was near her ear again. Don't allow your prejudice to 



mislead you, little flower. I am not a machine. This flesh 



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feels. This body desires. This mind wants. So, unless you 



want to discover what its like to spread your legs for a 



cyborg, I'd advise you to stop rubbing your very tantalizing 



little body against mine. I might decide to fuck you until no 



human man will ever do for you again. 



    Two completely polar sensations went through Dalia at 



once; outrage that he would even consider treating hera 



trained warrior and rogue hunteras if she was nothing more 



than a pleasure slave, and pretty much the same jolt of 



stunned attraction that had hit her the moment she saw 



himexcept that this time it was accompanied by a rush of 



heat and a deluge of adrenaline. 



    She went perfectly still, more from shocked surprise than 



because he had commanded it, or because she feared he 



might keep his word, hardly daring even to breathe. As she 



stared up at him, however, it occurred to her that he had 



offered her a bargaining chip she hadn't even realized she 



possessed. I would.... She licked her dried lips and tried 



again. I will barter the use of my body for transport. 



    He frowned. I would sooner leave you here. I'm sure it 



will surprise you, but I've no taste for killing ... and not much 



for humans, even to slake my needs. 



    Dalia felt blood flood her cheeks, only to wash away so 



rapidly she felt slightly dizzy. But ... you said.... 



    I lied. 



    She blinked at him, stunned once more, not because he 



admitted it, or even because he had the ability, but because 



he'd done it so convincingly that she'd believed him. It was no 



wonder the company had ceased production of this particular 



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cyborg. It was no wonder he had never been caught. He was 



as human as any human spawned, but capable of far more 



than any human being, whether enhanced or not, and 



therefore far more dangerous. 



    If you leave me here, you leave me to die, she said 



finally, trying to keep the desperation from her voice. 



    Why? 



    Why what? 



    Assuming you're not lying and the company is hunting 



you, but not because you've gone rogue, then why? 



    I don't know. 



    He eyed her skeptically. 



    I don't! I went in for my physical examination. When I 



woke, the tech was stabbing me with a needle. 



    He studied her for several moments and finally, slowly, 



released her. You didn't question him? 



    Dalia shrugged. I snatched the needle out of my arm and 



drove it into his throat. It wasn't pretty, but it was fast. I 



didn't manage to get much out of him ... except.... 



    Except? 



    She shook her head. Nothing that made any sense. She 



studied him for several moments and finally tried again. 



Look, I know you've no reason to trust me, but it's only a 



matter of time before they catch up to me. I got rid of the 



locatorthat's the only thing that's given me any time, but it 



won't last. Take me anywhere. As long as there's breathable 



air and half a chance for survival, I don't care. I'll give you 



everything I've got, she said, shoving the sleeve of her tunic 



up and extending her arm to show him her barcode. 



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    He studied it, surprise flickering briefly across his features. 



He was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at her again. 



You're coded. 



    Everybody is coded at birth. 



    Except cyborgs. 



    She studied him. Cyborgs aren't born. They're created ... 



in a lab. 



    Humans are created in labs, he countered, his lips 



tightening. 



    She thought about what the tech had told her and what 



she'd learned from the computer. But not necessarily, and 



there's the difference. They have the ability to create life 



inside their own bodies. The tech ... before he died, he said 



that I was gestating. I have ... life, here, she finished, laying 



a hand over her lower belly. 



    He stared down at her hand for many moments before he 



looked up at her again. She had the sense that it was because 



he was so jolted by the admission that it took him far longer 



to assimilate the information than one would have expected. 



Shock was the human inability to accept what they had seen 



or heard, not something that should ever trouble a cyborg, a 



creation more machine than biological entity, regardless of 



their appearance or their artificial intelligence. 



    And still she had the feeling that he'd been as shocked as 



she had been at the news. He glanced away from her, turning 



his head to study something outside her range of vision. 



They're coming. 



    Catching her arm just above the elbow, he led her up the 



gangplank and into the ship. They traversed a narrow corridor 



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and finally arrived at the captain's cabin, which lay at the 



prow and encompassed the entire width of the ship. Pushing 



her inside, he studied her for several moments in silence. 



You will stay here. 



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                              Chapter Four 



    Dalia counted four of them in all by the tread of their feet, 



as they came up the gangplank. Reuel met them at the top. 



No conversation was immediately exchanged, but she knew 



that Reuel was examining each with care to make certain 



they were whom they claimed to be. 



    Or, perhaps he knew them already? He'd said there was a 



rebel camp. The company had led her to believe that the 



rogues were, more or less, insane. Something had gone 



terribly wrong in their design. These cyborgs were a breed 



that had failed to perform as they had been intended and 



could not be controlled. They had to be hunted down and 



destroyed because they had either altered their CPU so that 



they could not be remotely destroyed, or the central 



processing unit itself had malfunctioned. 



    She supposed, willful disregard of their programming by 



deliberately reprogramming themselves was an act of 



rebellion, but what if there was more to it than that? 



    It seemed preposterous. According to what she had been 



told, the company had made no more than a thousand before 



they had discovered the defect and ceased production. As 



superior as these creations were to the race they had been 



designed to mimic, and even taking into consideration that 



they might, indeed, be insane, they could not, surely, expect 



to rebel openly against mankind and succeed? 



    And to what purpose, for that matter? 



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    In truth, the line between the living human being and the 



cyborg had blurred as science progressed until the line that 



divided the two was often razor thin. Genetic manipulation, 



bioengineering and even mechanical enhancements were in 



widespread usage. Almost any naturally occurring human 



organ could be replaced by one that had been bio-engineered 



if need be. Missing, defective, or damaged body parts were as 



often as not replaced by cybornetic joints, limbs or digits. 



    The New Religion claimed cyborgs were an offense to their 



god, that they were soulless efforts of mortals at playing god. 



A soul was only created when those gifts of god, the seed of 



mankind, joined and began the process of growth. Only these 



were born with souls, and no matter how much of their bodies 



were replaced or enhanced, they still had souls. Animation 



was not life. Life created itself, propagated, replicated. 



    Why then had the tech said the life growing inside of her 



was not human? How could it be life and not be human? How 



was it even possible that she could maintain a life not human 



as she was? 



    For that matter, why and when and how had it been placed 



there to grow? 



    Rogue hunters were not encouraged to engage in sexual 



activities or to develop any sort of relationship for that 



matter. They were chosen to begin with because they had no 



familial attachments to distract them and they were 



discouraged from considering the possibility of doing so as 



long as they remained hunters. In point of fact, their training, 



which began before puberty, made it nearly impossible for 



them to form either emotional or physical attachments. 



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    If that weren't enough, the penalty for breaking this law 



was immediate termination, and the company made no bones 



about the fact that they were always under observation. The 



locator wasn't merely a device to keep track of their soldier's 



positions, or to find them in the event that they were 



wounded and unable to communicate. It recorded every move 



they made and reported everything they did. 



    Since she'd completed her training, she, herself, had never 



even felt the temptation to break this unwritten law. She was 



focused utterly on her missions. She had not engaged in any 



sexual activities, ever, not even with pleasure devises since 



she could see no sense in developing a taste for something 



she was forbidden to have anyway. 



    Therefore, there was no question in her mind that it had 



been placed there. What was not immediately apparent was 



the why and when. 



    The where was something that was almost as obvious as 



the how. It could not have occurred, she felt certain, 



anywhere except at the company's med lab. But why would 



the company do something that would jeopardize her 



usefulness as a hunter? 



    Assuming the spark of life clung, the organism would grow, 



according to what she had learned from the med lab 



computer. She would not be able to fight without risking the 



life of the organism, and her own life for that matter. As a 



parasitic type of organism, as it grew and its needs increased, 



it would integrate its own system so thoroughly with hers that 



it would, literally, be almost like ripping a part of herself loose 



to break its hold and could devastate her own system. 



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    Of what use was a hunter who could not hunt? 



    Despite her value as a hunter, she knew that she was 



expendable as far as the company was concerned. The task 



she had been trained for also insured her death, sooner or 



later. The extensive training and biomechanical 



enhancements they'd paid for had been to extend her 



usefulness. Perhaps, though, they had conceived a project 



they considered even more useful? 



    But, if that was the case, why then destroy both her and 



the experiment? Wouldn't it have been just as effective to 



destroy the organism? Very likely she would have been no 



wiser, just as she hadn't known that they had placed it there 



to begin with. 



    That seemed to indicate that the company had not 



sanctioned the experiment. Someone within the company had 



decided to experiment without the company's knowledge or 



consent, and then they had realized that they must destroy 



the evidence. 



    That seemed far-fetched, but it still fit most of the facts 



she knew. It seemed the most logical answer. 



    If they had been completely unaware of the experiment, 



and therefore unaware of the perpetrator's efforts to conceal 



his crime by killing her, then they would have seen her act as 



murder, not self-defense. That was why they'd put out a 



sanction on her. They thought she'd gone mad, become 



dangerously unstable. 



    Unfortunately, there were a number of things that didn't 



seem to fit and most of it revolved around the incident in the 



examination room. The tech, it seemed to her, had found 



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something he had not expected to find. Moreover, he was 



merely a lowly tech, no more than an assistant, certainly not 



educated or intelligent enough to have conceived or executed 



any sort of experiment on his own. He'd not taken it upon 



himself to destroy her. He'd been ordered by someone to do 



so. 



    There was another problem with her theory, as well. 



Ordinarily, she was only called upon to present herself for a 



physical examination directly before and directly after an 



assignment, the first to make certain she was in peek 



condition before she left, the second to repair any damage 



accruing from completion of her mission. Over the past four 



months, she had been called back repeatedly, however, each 



time for something supposedly minor that had been 



overlooked before, a test that had been badly performed and 



needed to be done again. 



    How could the company, who was rather a lot like the god 



the New Religion worshipped and knew all, have been 



unaware that experiments were being performed on her? 



    Finally, realizing that she didn't have nearly enough facts 



to fit all the puzzle pieces togetherperhaps never would 



she dismissed it and turned to study the captain's cabin. 



    It was luxurious enough to tell her several things about 



Reuelhe enjoyed the better things of life, liked his comfort, 



and he probably spent the better part of his time in this 



shipor he was adept at stealing the better things in life and 



had an eye for quality. 



    The bed took up almost half the space and was certainly 



not typical of the bunks generally found on cruisers much less 



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racers. On course, Reuel was massiveshe should have 



known instantly that such magnificence was not naturally 



occurringstanding six foot four easily, probably a good three 



feet across the shoulders, his back, chest, arms, belly and 



legs taut and at the same time bulging with muscle. 



    The musculature would need to be massive, of course, and 



generally was in cyborgs because the alloy skeletal system 



was notably heavier than the calcium based skeletal structure 



of a human being, but Reuel was notable even among others 



of his kind, and the human males, hunters, that had been 



enhanced to track them. 



    There were only a handful of females like herself. Despite 



enhancements, they could not be made to be even nearly as 



strong as their male counterparts, and certainly not the 



cyborgs. Their strength was in disarming their quarry, which 



was also the reason there were only a few of them. If it 



became widely known that there were female hunters, their 



effectiveness would be diminished. 



    The thick carpet beneath her feet hummed as she 



wandered about the cabin, alerting her to the fact that the 



craft was preparing for departure. She moved to the chair 



before Reuel's desk and sat, strapping herself in, and then 



studied the charts on his desk briefly. She had no knowledge 



of navigation, however, and soon lost interest. Behind the 



desk were shelves containing row upon row of strange 



rectangular objects. As the humming increased to a tooth- 



rattling shake, she pulled one from the shelf and studied it, 



discovering that it was a very rare, ancient book of paper. 



There were few in existence any longer since they had not 



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been produced in several hundred years, and many of those 



produced then had not been designed for the wear and tear of 



time. She'd seen them, though, in museums. She'd never 



actually touched one. 



    The first thing she noticed when she parted the pages was 



the smell. She held it a little closer, sniffing it, then sneezed. 



It smelledmore like dirt, she decided, than anything else, 



but also as if, over time, every smell around it had been 



absorbed into it and held so that it was such a collection of 



differing things as to make any single part unidentifiable. 



    It wasn't particularly pleasant. On the other hand, she 



didn't smell very pleasantly herself at the moment. It wasn't 



uncommon, in the field, for her to find herself without the 



facilities to bathe, but she had never grown accustomed to it, 



never been able to simply ignore being dirty and unkempt. As 



soon as the craft settled back into the smooth glide that told 



her it was safe to unbuckle herself, she placed the book back 



on the shelf, unfastened her restraints and got up to check 



out the facilities. 



    As she'd suspected, Reuel had his own, private, facilities. 



Doubtless, considering the size of the ship, the other cabins 



shared a community bath, but she supposed, if she was to 



remain in Reuel's cabin, that she would be allowed to make 



use of his. She intended to, in any event. 



    The stockings she'd taken had been little protection to 



begin with and had long since worn through. She tossed 



those into the incinerator unit. The trousers and tunic were in 



nearly as bad a shape, but she stuffed them into the cleaning 



unit before she climbed into the particle shower. To her 



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stunned surprise, water shot from the jets, nearly drowning 



her when she gasped instinctively. Coughing and choking on 



the water she'd inhaled, she felt around blindly for some way 



to turn the thing off. She wasn't certain if she found it, 



though, or if the unit was designed to go on and off at five 



second intervals, for it did just that, startling her all over 



again the first few times. 



    Finally, she realized that the water itself was not supposed 



to clean her. There were cloths and some sort of thick gel-like 



chemical substance to rub on herself to remove the odor and 



dirt. The water was to remove the gel. 



    It seemed curiously inefficient. A particle shower would 



have cleaned and sanitized her in a matter of moments. 



Having to scrub herself was more of a job that she 



particularly cared for, and she wasn't convinced that she had 



been sanitized properly even when she was done. 



    She discovered she rather liked the way the water felt 



crawling over her bare skin, however. It feltstrangebut at 



the same time pleasurable. Finally, almost reluctantly, she 



got out of the unit and discovered two not very pleasant side 



effects. Scrubbing her hair had felt good, but it had left it in a 



wet, tangled mess. Moreover, the water still ran down her 



body and dripped off onto the carpeted floor. 



    Rain had a similar effect and since she'd been on many 



worlds unprotected by domes from nature, she knew from 



experience that neither her skin nor her hair would dry very 



quickly. 



    She was still standing in front of the unit wondering 



whether to put her clothing back on as she was or to stand 



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where she was and wait until she dried when the door 



opened. She jumped reflexively, whirling to face the threat. 



    Reuel stood in the opening, surveying her with interest 



from the top of her head to her bare toes. Finally, he leaned 



casually against the frame, folding his arms over his chest as 



if he was getting comfortable to stay a while. I see you 



figured out how to use the shower unit, he said after a 



moment. 



    Dalia shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, 



uneasy with his curious interest for no reason that she could 



immediately perceive. There was nothing threatening in his 



stance. I think so, she said a little doubtfully. 



    His brows rose. But you're not certain? 



    I've never used anything but a particle bath. I didn't even 



know there was such a thing as this water bath. Is it 



something new? 



    His lips curled in a half smile. Oddly, her belly clenched as 



she looked at it. It's something very oldancientfrom the 



age of decadence. 



    Her eyes widened. Then it is outlawed. 



    Chuckling, he stood away from the door and pulled his 



tunic over his head. Dalia was so surprised by the sound of 



his laughter, by the amusement it conveyed as well as the 



pleasure the sound sent through her, that he'd tugged his 



boots off and discarded them, as well, before she realized 



that he fully intended to remove all of his clothes. I am a 



rogue, little flower. Why would I concern myself over the laws 



of man? 



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    Dalia swallowed with an effort, so mesmerized by the 



strength and fluidity of his movements, by the sheer beauty 



of his body, that her mind as well as her eyes were focused 



completely upon what he was doing, leaving very little room 



for other thought. Why and how, she wondered, could merely 



looking at him have such a ... consuming effect upon her? 



    It was more than the perception of beauty. Anything 



pleasing to the eye was likely to capture her attention, but 



certainly not so completely that she lost track of all else. 



    When he'd removed his trousers, she saw that his lower 



body was as fascinating as the upper part. His hips were 



narrow so that his broad chest formed almost a V shape, his 



legs powerful. He also, for no reason that immediately came 



to mind, possessed a phallus, and not merely for the sake of 



appearing to be a male creature. It stood proudly erect above 



a pair of testicles, sprouting from a nest of dark hair. 



    She hadn't noticed it before and she knew damn well she 



would have noticed something thatenormous. It functioned, 



at least in the sense that it acted like the erectile tissue on a 



human counterpart. 



    Why would a cyborg that had never been designed or 



intended as a pleasure droid, have been so faithfully 



reproduced as a man, complete with testicles and an 



obviously fully functionalmake that massivephallus? 



    She was so enthralled by the sight of it that it wasn't until 



he moved so close that she lost sight of it that she realized he 



was moving toward her. 



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    She dragged her gaze upward to his face as he stopped in 



front of her, noticing every inch of flesh, every bugle, ripple, 



hair follicle and even the texture of his skin, on the way up. 



    Whoever had designed him, she realized suddenly, and 



with perfect clarity, had fully intended to create man, not just 



a facsimile of man. Whoever had created him had been 



playing godand it seemed very likely that whoever it was, 



was the same god who had decided to experiment on her. 



Was that what the tech had meant when he'd said it wasn't 



human? Had Reuel's creator decided to go one step further 



and see if he could mimic the creation of life through 



reproduction and birth? 



    Without a word he caught her shoulders, turned her 



toward the shower unit, and urged her inside, following her. 



She turned to face him as the water jetted over her, covering 



her face. When it ceased to pelt them, he moved away, took 



the cloth and rubbed the chemical substance into it until he 



had created a lather. Then calmly, almost methodically, he 



began to rub the cloth over her body, gliding it over first one 



arm and then the other, then turning her and rubbing it along 



her back and buttocks. Instead of urging her to turn once 



more when he'd finished lathering her back, he stepped up 



closely behind her, so closely she could feel his flesh brushing 



against hers with each movement, and reached around her to 



lather her breasts and belly. 



    Dalia remained perfectly still, at first because she was 



surprised, both by his actions and by his gentleness, and also 



because she wasn't at all certain where she stood with this 



dangerous rogue. Surprise gave way to something entirely 



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different, however, as she felt his hands glide over her 



breasts. Her nipples puckered and stood erect, as if she was 



cold, except she wasn't. A strange current flowed from the 



tips of her breasts through her body, creating an odd sort of 



expectancy inside her, an involuntary tensing of muscles and, 



at the same time, a diminishing of tension, creating heat. She 



dragged in a ragged breath, not certain whether she wanted 



him to stop or continue as a drugging sort of lassitude swept 



over her. Slowly, he worked the cloth downward, finally 



cupping his hand over her femininity, parting her nether lips 



and delving into the cleft, tracing it. 



    Dalia's belly clenched almost painfully. She swallowed with 



an effort, licked her lips. What are you doing? 



    Teaching you, he murmured, his voice sounding 



strangely hoarse, the finer points of bathing with soap and 



water. 



    Dalia's knees almost buckled, dumping her on the floor of 



the shower unit, as he stepped away from her abruptly, 



allowing the shower to pelt the soap from her body. Cool air 



wafted over her as he opened the door of the unit and 



stepped out. 



    Frowning, shivering more from reaction than from the chill 



draft of air, she sloughed as much water from her body as 



she could with her hands and stepped out, as well. He'd 



opened a cabinet in the wall, she saw. He pulled a sheet of 



fabric from it, tossed it to her, then pulled another one out 



and began to rub it over himself, soaking up the excess water 



on his skin. 



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    She scrubbed the cloth he'd thrown to her over her own 



skin and discovered that it was reasonably effective. Her skin 



still felt damp, but only a little. Her hair continued to drip 



even after she'd scrubbed the towel over it. Reuel's black hair 



was nearly as long as her own, falling well past his shoulders, 



so she watched him to see what he would do with his own 



hair. 



    He merely rubbed it with the cloth to remove as much 



water as possible, raked a comb through it to remove the 



tangles and left it to drip. Shrugging, she combed the snarls 



from her own hair and left the bath with cold rivulets of water 



trickling unpleasantly down her back. 



    He was standing before an open locker in the room, pulling 



clothing from it, she saw. Turning, he tossed a tunic to her. 



She caught it, but studied it doubtfully. The clothes she'd 



stolen before had been too big. Any tunic that would cover his 



body was unlikely to even remotely fit her. 



    Mentally shrugging, she pulled it on and discovered she 



hadn't mistaken the matter. The tunic fell almost to her 



knees. The neck opening gaped and the sleeves completely 



covered her hands. 



    When he'd finished dressing, he turned to study her. His 



lip quirked upward on one side. Striding toward her, he 



caught the fabric in his hands and ripped first one sleeve and 



then the other from the tunic. She rather thought it might 



have worked better, however, if she'd merely rolled the 



sleeves up. The shoulders drooped well down her upper arms 



and the armholes ended in the general vicinity of her waist. 



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The sides of her breasts were fully exposed and the whole 



breast threatened to fall out the sides when she moved. 



    She studied the effect doubtfully. 



    We are machines, not men. You needn't concern yourself 



that any will be so overcome with lust over your human body 



as to accost you, he said dryly. 



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                               Chapter Five 



    A combination of anger and discomfort brought color 



forward to tinge Dalia's cheeks. Obviously, she had gravely 



insulted him when she'd allowed him to see how revolting she 



considered the idea of copulating with a cyborg. He seemed 



determined to emphasize the fact that he was a cyborg at 



every opportunity, at the same time giving it the lie by 



proving that he was far more than a mere machine. He was 



not imitating the reaction of a human to an insult. Clearly, he 



had felt it. She wondered if his creators realized just how far 



beyond machines these cyborgs had evolved. She supposed 



they must if they considered them so dangerous. It hadn't 



occurred to me that it would be a problem, she responded 



tightly. I was only thinking that it was not very comfortable. 



    She could tell by the expression on his face that he knew 



she was lying. 



    Was he truly as unique as he seemed? Or had the others 



she'd destroyed been as he was? 



    It disturbed her to think they might have been. She had 



refused to consider that they were anything more than 



machines, very impressive machines, the cutting edge of 



technology, but still no different, really, than any other 



machine when all was said and done. Cutting them down was 



no different than destroying ... a refrigerating unit, for 



instance. Except they bled, and the blood gave her 



nightmares and the look of despair in their artificial eyes as 



they died gave her nightmares. 



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    If she had not known that strangely beautiful, and very 



unforgettable, face from the bulletins that had been posted on 



him, she was doubtful that she would ever have realized that 



he was not human, and that disturbed her almost as much as 



the other. How many, she wondered, walked undetected 



among them? Infiltrating every aspect of their society, 



possibly preparing to strike down their creators before their 



creators could destroy them? 



    Grasping her upper arm, he led her from the cabin and 



down the narrow passage that bisected the ship. When they 



reached a stairwell, he pushed her in front of him. Grasping 



the handrail, she preceded him and found herself in a large 



room that was obviously intended as a social room. Here 



comfortably stuffed chairs were arranged in small groupings. 



    Four pairs of cyborg eyes turned as she entered, 



examining her with what she could only describe asinterest, 



curiosity, even a touch of hostility. There was no cool, 



emotionless appraisal, not from one. There was no similarity 



between them beyond a general physical build, height and 



weight. Two were blond, two dark, but the shades varied 



drastically, as did their eye color and facial features, but then 



she hadn't expected them to look as if they'd come off of an 



assembly line. They had arisen from a new generation of 



cyborg, and had been touted as each as uniquely different 



and natural as a real, live human. It was one of the things 



that had made tracking them down extremely difficult. They 



had been designed to blend in with humans. 



    We have a hunter among us. She is ... mine. I will expect 



you to remember that and act accordingly. 



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    The cyborgs had stiffened at Reuel's announcement, 



several of them half rising from their seats. They settled back, 



their expressions more guarded than before. 



    You're not taking her to the camp? 



    Why did you bring her? 



    Why didn't you kill her? 



    For what purpose have you brought her among us? 



    They spoke almost at once, each question spilling over the 



question of another, tangling so that it was hard to separate 



them. 



    When I understand myself ... when, and if, I feel the urge 



to share, I will tell you, Reuel said coldly. Until then, it is 



not your right ask. 



    You endanger us all, risk the failure of our plans by 



bringing her among us. That should give us the right. 



    Reuel moved to a chair near the others and sat. Wrapping 



an arm around Dalia's waist, he pulled her down onto his lap. 



She resisted, for all the good it did, sitting stiffly erect. He 



wouldn't allow even that much rebellion, however. He pulled 



her against him and held her until she relaxed, dropping her 



head back against his shoulder. You see this tiny morsel of 



mortal flesh as a threat? he said, his voice deep, husky. 



    That is the huntress, Dalia. She has killed almost as many 



as the other hunters together, one of the cyborgs growled. 



    Almost casually, Reuel slipped a hand through the arm 



opening of her tunic and began to pluck at her nipple with his 



thumb and forefinger. Dalia stiffened, tried to jerk upright, 



but his grip tightened until she relaxed once more with the 



realization that she could not free herself, could not move 



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until he allowed it. Swallowing with an effort, she fixed her 



gaze across the room, trying to ignore his touch, trying to 



ignore the fact that the other cyborgs had been instantly 



riveted by his actions. This delicate little flower? he insisted, 



rolling the distended nipple between his finger and thumb. 



I'm afraid I find it difficult to perceive her as a threatat 



least, not in the way that you mean. 



    Dalia was relieved when he finally released her nipple 



until he slipped his hand down her belly and cupped her sex. 



She clamped her legs tightly. Abandoning that goal after only 



a moment, he slid his hand up her belly and caught her other 



nipple between his thumb and forefinger, plucking at it until it 



stood erect and began to throb like an aching tooth. 



    If we were men, now, that might be a different matter 



altogether, he murmured, his husky voice almost as 



mesmerizing as the teasing caress of his hand. She is a 



wondrous marvel of nature, don't you think? Even I can 



understand how a man, who is still slave to his hormonal 



urges, would find himself distracted and vulnerable because 



of it. 



    Almost casually, he lifted his legs, one at the time, and 



propped the heels of his boots on the table that separated the 



chairs. As he did so, her legs slid off on either side of his. She 



scarcely noticed. She was so enthralled by his touch, and 



trying desperately to ignore the sensations shimmying 



through her that she hardly noticed when he removed the 



arm that was around her waist and slipped his opposite hand 



through her tunic. He cupped her breast in his hand, 



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massaging it even as he plucked gently, rhythmically at the 



nipple. 



    She'd lost track of the other hand, the one he'd been 



teasing her with before. When it skated over her belly, the 



muscles there jumped, clenched. This time when his hand 



settled between her legs, she discovered she could not clamp 



her legs together. She tried, reflexively. 



    Apparently completely unconcerned, possibly even 



unaware, of her attempts to prevent his incursion, he used 



his fingers to part the petals of flesh and slid one large finger 



along her cleft. Dalia thought for several moments that she 



would faint. She was struggling so hard to keep her breathing 



regular, to still the frantic drum of her heart, that she kept 



holding her breath. 



    As a machine, naturally I'm incapable of feeling ... 



anything at all, but I do find this female interesting to study. 



This, for instance, he said, pushing her tunic aside and 



displaying the breast he held in his hand, is interestingly 



symmetrical. The color and texture is also interesting in that 



the shading of the flesh contrasts so sharply from here, he 



massaged her breast, to here, he plucked the distended 



nipple. 



    For the first time since he'd begun to toy with her, Dalia 



looked at the cyborgs across from them. Any doubt that she'd 



ever entertained that lust was a concept beyond their 



capability or understanding vanished. They were, quite 



obviously, as enthralled by what Reuel was doing to her as 



she was, and, strangely enough, she lost the vague sense of 



discomfort that had been nibbling at the back of her mind. As 



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if something had broken inside of herall urge to fight itshe 



released a shaky breath that was half gasp, half groan as she 



felt him push the finger he'd been exploring her sex with up 



inside of her. 



    The groan that escaped her had the unexpected effect of 



making him cease abruptly, though he seemed to withdraw 



that probing finger almost reluctantly. Removing his hands 



from inside the tunic, he smoothed it over her. If we were 



men, we would lust for this female, allow it to blind us to 



danger, and reason, and then ... only then, would this small 



mortal be a threat to us, he growled, dropping his feet to the 



deck and pushing her off his lap abruptly. 



    She stood shakily, staring down at him in confusion. He 



surged to his feet, grasped her arm as he had before and half 



pushed, half dragged her from the room and up the stairs. 



Reaching his cabin once more, Dalia turned on him as he 



closed the door behind them. Why did you do that? 



    His face hardened. Did it bother you? Surely, it didn't ... 



being fondled by a machine, in front of more machines. You 



should have thought no more of it than if I were some 



mechanical pleasure devise, and they were ... furniture. 



    Her lips tightened. You've made your point, many times 



over. I still want to know why. 



    He moved toward her until he was looming over her. 



Because it pleased me to do it. Because you are mine and I 



will do as I please with you at any time it pleases me to do it. 



So that you would know your danger. So that they would 



know that you are mine and I would kill them if they so much 



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as looked at you. He stopped, dragged in a ragged breath. 



And because I couldn't stop myself once I'd started. 



    He gripped her arms, pulling her up against him until her 



breasts flattened against his chest, then slipped an arm 



behind her back and caught her face in his other hand. Is 



this how you did it, my deadly little flower? Did you allow 



them to think that you looked upon them as men? Did you 



sigh and moan at their touch as if you enjoyed it, waiting until 



their minds were so heated with need that it was easy for you 



to slip a blade into their heart? 



    Dalia swallowed with an effort. No! she said shakily. It 



would never have occurred to me! I wasn't trained to do such 



a thing and I would never have let them near enough to me 



to try it. I didn't even know it was possible. I bested them. 



    He studied her face carefully. Finally, a dark eyebrow rose 



skeptically. Toe to toe, in combat? 



    She flushed. I outwitted them, caught them by surprise. 



I'm skilled in the usage of all weapons and hand to hand 



combat. Yes, it was considered that I wouldn't be perceived 



as a threat because I'm a female and not physically 



threatening in appearance, but no one considered, least of all 



me, that it was even possible to ... lure a cyborg to his 



death. 



    Least of all you. 



    Dalia licked her lips nervously. You're not going to let me 



go, are you? 



    The movement of her tongue seemed to distract him. After 



a moment, he lifted his gaze to hers. Probably not. 



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    If you were going to kill me, you might as well have done 



it before we left. 



    I've no taste for killing. I told you that. 



    But you have killed, haven't you? 



    He didn't even flinch. I have. 



    Dalia frowned. If you're not going to kill me and you're 



not taking me to the rebel camp, what do you plan to do with 



me? 



    His grip on her relaxed, allowing her to slip down his chest 



until she was no longer standing on her toes. His lip quirked 



upward at one corner, but unlike before, the smile didn't 



touch his eyes. For the moment I'm merely trying to decide 



whether or not the risk is worth taking you up on your offer. 



    Which offer? she asked, feeling a sinking of dread. 



    The use of your body in return for safe passage. Money is 



not something difficult to acquire. A willing femalehuman 



femaleis a little more rare. 



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                               Chapter Six 



    You hate me, Dalia said in sudden enlightenment. 



    He released her abruptly. Droids are incapable.... 



    But you aren't a Droid. You hate me for being a good 



soldier. 



    I don't hate you for being good at what you were 



designed to do. If I did, I would have killed you and left your 



body for the company to find. 



    Dalia stared at him. You hate them worse. You didn't 



because you didn't want to do them any favors. 



    Something flickered in his eyes then and she knew she had 



at least part of the answer. True, but then I could have left 



you unidentifiable. 



    That seemed inarguable. She was no weakling. She was 



capable of doing things that no normal women, and even few 



men, were capable of because of her mechanical 



enhancements, and yet his strength was so superior to her 



own she was as helpless as if she'd had no enhancements at 



all. You still could, she said, wondering why she felt the 



need or desire to test him, wondering if she was goading him. 



    I still might. 



    She didn't believe him and relief flooded through her. 



Whatever else his plans for her might be, she was as certain 



as she could be that he had no plans to kill her. 



    The other cyborgs were another matter, of course. She'd 



seen the look in their eyes and it went way past hostility. He 



might not hate her for who she was and what she was, but 



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they almost certainly did ... and if he took her to the rebel 



camp, then there could be hundreds there who felt the same 



way as they did. 



    She moistened her lips. But not before you find out why 



the company considers me a threat? 



    Not before that, he said coolly. He glanced around the 



cabin. I would suggest you spend most of your time in the 



cabin. I don't believe they will challenge me, but ... you will 



not wish to stake your life on it. We eat at O eight hundred, 



twelve hundred, and eighteen hundred, in the mess, no 



exceptions. Lights out at twenty three hundred. Otherwise, do 



as you please. So long as I don't catch you near anything of 



significant military importance or attempting to sabotage the 



ship, you can move around the ship if you prefer it. 



    She was on the point of asking him where he intended to 



sleep, or if he even found it necessary, but she thought better 



of it. She, for one, was convinced, and she had no desire to 



endure any more lessons. Whatever the company thought, 



these cyborgs were not mere machines with artificial 



intelligence. They were, in effect, a higher order of beings, 



superior to humans because mankind had been foolish 



enough to make them so. 



    When he'd left, her shoulders slumped and absolute 



weariness set in. She'd hardly slept since she'd escaped, 



knowing if she allowed herself to sleep deeply the chances 



were good that she wouldn't get the chance to wake up. She 



was also hungry, but according to the clock set into the wall, 



it was twenty four hundredthere would be no chance for 



food before morning. 



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    Dismissing it, she decided she was more tired anyway and 



climbed onto the bed. She'd barely settled in a comfortable 



position when she dropped from consciousness as suddenly 



as if a switch had been turned off. Despite that, she didn't 



rest a lot easier than she had in the rubble of the buildings, 



expecting any moment to be discovered. Strange, heated 



dreams kept her moving restlessly throughout the night. 



Again and again, she relived those moments when Reuel's 



hands had slipped over her body. Sometimes it differed. 



Sometimes they were in the shower and he was lathering her 



with soap. Sometimes they lay entwined in the bed. 



    When she woke, she discovered that he was lying beside 



her on his back, staring up at the bulkhead. She had the 



uneasy feeling that he had not rested', but had no idea of 



how long he'd lain beside her. Uncomfortable with the dreams 



that had plagued her most of the night, she rose without a 



word and went into the head. Discarding the tunic she'd slept 



in, she removed the clothing she'd taken from the clinic from 



the cleaning unit and dressed. When she left the head, Reuel 



was gone. 



    Hunger drove her from the cabin. She found the mess by 



following the smell of food. The cyborgs, she discovered were 



more punctual than she. When she arrived, all of them, 



including, she saw with relief, Reuel, were seated at the long 



table in the middle of the room. All of them except Reuel were 



wearing their weapons, but they seemed far too interested in 



consuming their food for her to consider that circumstance as 



representing a threat ... for the moment at least. 



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    Mentally, she shrugged. At rest, they were basically like 



their human counterparts. They used very little energy. 



However, physically, they were at least three quarters pure 



biological material, most of it muscle, and moving all of that 



around required a great deal of energy. Even if they didn't 



have the human tendency to eat purely for entertainment and 



pleasure, consuming what they needed would require a great 



deal of food. 



    Selecting her own food from the server, she moved down 



the table and sat next to Reuel. Even without the lesson or 



experiment'whatever name Reuel cared to put to the 



display the day beforeshe would've been uneasy about 



being in a room full of cyborgs. The surreptitious, speculative 



glances she'd noticed as she moved around the mess hall had 



only increased that natural tendency. 



    All things considered, it occurred to her to wonder if the 



shortage of females would prove to be a problem for the 



cyborg communityshe assumed it was a community. To her 



knowledge, not even a third of the rogue cyborgs were female 



and since they weren't as strong as their male counterparts, 



the hunters had decreased that by a goodly number since 



they'd gone rogue. A fraction of this generation, mostly 



female, had been reprogrammed as soon as the first ones had 



gone rogue. As far as she could see that left anywhere from 



three to five males to every femaleassuming they'd 



managed to gather the remainder together. 



    It seemed unlikely that they had. She was willing to admit 



that she'd had a great deal of prejudice where this generation 



of cyborgs, the CO469, were concerned, mostly because of 



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the company's propaganda machine. As the blond with the 



curly hair had pointed out, though, she'd taken her fair share 



of them down. Taking a cyborg down was no simple task, 



however. Typically, she spent months tracking and then 



studying the subject before she devised a planonly a fool 



leapt in with guns blazing when they were facing a foe as 



potentially dangerous as these rogues. 



    She had seen nothing to make her believe the CO469 were 



that much different than the generations before or since 



them. Either this particular phenomenon she'd witnessed 



since she'd been taken aboard Reuel's ship was rare even 



among them, or the ones she'd killed had actually been 



acting', or, possibly, whatever it was that made these so very 



human had had the effect of actually making some of them 



truly insane. 



    It was possible, of course, that those she'd tracked had 



been on some sort of mission for the rebels, but she was 



more inclined to think they'd been loners and knew nothing 



about the rebels. 



    None had ever admitted it, in any case, which certainly 



seemed to whittle at the numbers the rebels might have put 



together. If she added to that the difficulties that seemed 



inevitable given the shortage of females and the all too 



obvious instincts of the males to try to find a female to breed 



with, it looked like a recipe for disaster to her. 



    She supposed, given that the CO469 was particularly 



partial to attacking the company and had yet to focus on 



anyone or anything else, provided it didn't get in their way, 



she could see the company's stance where they were 



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concerned. By law, they were responsible for removing 



potentially hazardous or defective product anyway, but she 



began to feel that there was more to it than that. 



    Their fear seemed excessive now that she thought about 



it. Either they knew they'd crossed the line and created a 



generation of cyborgs that were as close to human as made 



almost no difference at all, or there was something about 



these cyborgs that was potentially far more dangerous than 



their relatively small number suggested. 



    The question was what? 



    And was it possible that it was in any way connected to 



what had happened to her? 



    She wouldn't have thought so except for Reuel's interest. 



    If she hadn't been half starved from lack of food, 



dehydrated from little water and dead on her feet, she 



would've realized that she'd surprised Reuel with amazing 



ease. Of course, she hadn't realized until she was upon him 



that he was a cyborgshe wouldn't have known it then 



except that she'd seen his face so many times she would've 



had to be a blithering idiot not to recognize him instantly. 



    He had not been suffering any of the debilitating effects 



that she had, however, and his vision and hearing were many 



times more acute than her own. If he'd been human, as she 



had supposed, she wouldn't have questioned whether or not 



she'd actually managed to sneak up on him. She should have 



questioned it the moment she'd recognized him, because it 



was very unlikely that she'd caught Reuel off guard. 



    He'd been waiting for her. 



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    She should've known finding that guide had been too 



goddamned easy! 



    She didn't know how much Reuel knew that he wasn't 



telling her, but she was about to find out. 



    Snatching the saber from the scabbard of the man sitting 



next to her, she leapt upward almost in the same motion, 



landing on the table, the point of her blade hovering just 



above where Reuel's heart would be if he did as she expected 



and leapt to his feet. 



    He didn't disappoint her. 



    Behind her, she heard the scrapes and crashes that told 



her the others had leapt up, turning their chairs over as they 



grabbed their weapons. Silence fell as they froze, just as 



Reuel had frozen. It was a set up, she said through gritted 



teeth. You were waiting for me. 



    Instead of answering her immediately, Reuel's gaze flicked 



to the cyborgs behind her. Get back. This is between me and 



her. 



    Listening, she heard them shift indecisively. Finally, they 



moved back a couple of steps. None of them moved far, 



however, and none left. 



    It didn't matter. She was going to die anyway. She rather 



thought she liked these odds better than the odds she'd be 



facing if she let them get her all the way to the rebel camp. 



Five to one might not be much of a chance, but it was better 



than 500 to one. What's the game plan, Reuel? she 



demanded, prodding him with the point of the saber. 



    I was waiting, he admitted. 



    Why? How? 



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    We're plugged into the company's system. We monitor all 



of their activities. 



    So you knew they were after me and you knew the sector 



of the city where they'd lost me. They were out looking for 



me? she asked, jerking her head in the direction of the 



cyborgs behind her. 



    Her overconfidence cost her. She'd been so certain the 



threat was behind her, she hadn't realized that Reuel was 



only waiting for a fraction of a second's inattention. The 



moment she nodded in the direction of the cyborgs at her 



back, her gaze flickered away from his. He struck the side of 



the blade in her hands so hard with the palm of his hand that 



the vibration traveled all the way up her arm in a numbing 



shockwave. She leapt from the table even as he made a dive 



for her. Landing on the deck in a half crouch, she pivoted so 



that she was facing both Reuel and the others. 



    One of themthe blond that had given her the evil eye 



from the time they'd boardedsnatched his saber from its 



scabbard and tossed it to Reuel. Reuel caught it, but it 



seemed a more reflexive action than intentional. He glanced 



down at the saber as if undecided whether to keep it or 



discard it. Dalia made a lunging swing at him while he was 



distracted. 



    He parried it, but again she sensed that it was an 



instinctive action of self-preservation. 



    She didn't have time to dwell on it, or figure it out. The 



only chance she had that she could see would be to take him 



out. The corner of the room where she'd positioned herself 



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ensured that no more than one or two of them could come at 



her at once, while still giving her enough room to maneuver. 



    It wasn't much of a chance, but it was better than nothing. 



    As Reuel rolled from the table and landed on his feet, she 



swung again. Again, he met the swing, parried it, but he 



made no attempt to follow it up. He moved to one side, trying 



to force her to move further into the opening. She wasn't 



falling for that one, however. She held her position, attacking 



once more in a flurry of strikes that forced him back. 



    The numbness in her arm from that first hit had subsided, 



leaving pain in its wake. She shifted the blade to her other 



hand, hoping the pain would recede enough that she could 



switch back. She was almost as good with her left hand as 



her right, but almost, she felt sickeningly certain, wasn't 



going to be good enough. 



    Parrying her strikes, he shifted again, moving to her other 



side. Again, she faced him, refusing to allow him to work her 



out of the corner, but his new position made it necessary for 



her to switch hands again. 



    He'd seen the weakness, she realized with dread, 



switching, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the pain. 



This time, instead of merely meeting her thrusts, he launched 



an attack. Dalia met the flurry of strikes, but she was forced 



to give ground inch by inch. At almost the same moment she 



realized he'd forced her into the corner, she lost her death 



grip on her saber. 



    He swung, she parried, but the shock wave that went 



through her arm paralyzed her fingers. Her blade went flying 



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across the room. She watched its path, expecting to feel the 



bite of his blade any moment. 



    Instead, to her surprise, he tossed his sword aside, 



grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back. He was 



breathing almost as heavily as she was, but she had the 



distinct feeling it had little to do with either fear or exertion. 



His expression was as black as a thundercloud. 



    Secure the weapons, he growled through clenched teeth 



without bothering to turn his head. The next man I see 



wearing one is a dead man. 



    Securing both her wrists in one hand, he urged her 



forward by lifting up on her arms until she had to lean 



forward, or move, to ease the pressure. 



    Do I make myself clear? he demanded in a growl as he 



faced the others. 



    The two nearest the door saluted and left abruptly. The 



two who remained collected the sabers from the floor, 



saluted, and departed behind the others. Without a word, 



Reuel pushed her toward the door and down the corridor. 



When they reached his cabin, he dragged her over to the 



locker at the foot of his bed and opened it. The scrape of 



metal against metal caught Dalia's attention. She turned in 



time to see him pull a length of chain from the locker. On 



either end was a manacle. 



    The moment he clamped one around her wrist, she 



wrenched free of him and swung the chain, which had a 



manacle on the other end, as well, at his head. He caught it 



mid-air. Wincing, he grasped her around the waist and tossed 



her backwards. She landed on the bed with a bounce. The 



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mattress, soft and yielding, cushioned her fall, but it also 



hampered her effort to gain a stance that would allow her to 



launch another attack. Before she could right herself, he 



launched himself at her. The impact laid her out flat, stunning 



her. 



    Straddling her, he sat upright, grasped her free hand and 



clamped the manacle around it, then caught the chain in the 



middle and secured it to a bolt in the bulkhead above the 



head of the bed. 



    Dalia jerked her head upward to stare at the bolt, tugging 



on the chain, but she had a bad feeling that both the chain 



and the bolt had been made with her in mind and that she 



would have little chance of freeing herself from it. 



    Reuel grasped her face in one hand, pinching her cheeks 



as he forced her to look at him. Don't ... ever ... try ... 



anything ... like ... that ... again, he said through clenched 



teeth, enunciating each word slowly and carefully. 



    Afraid it'll make you look bad in front of your men? she 



spat at him as the shock wore off and anger and frustration 



surged through her again. 



    Because I'm afraid you'll hurt my child, you little fool, he 



ground out. 



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                             Chapter Seven 



    Dalia stared at Reuel blankly while dozens of questions 



crashed in on her, too many and too rapidly for her to give 



voice even to one. Yours? she gasped, feeling the shock 



give way to fury. Yours! You son of a bitch! she screamed, 



heaving upwards suddenly in an attempt to buck him off. 



    She caught him by surprise, surprised herself when she 



succeeded and he fell off of her sideways. Drawing her knees 



up, she kicked at him, landing both feet flat in the middle of 



his chest and shoving him backwards on the bed. He caught 



himself as he rolled toward the edge, grabbing her ankles ... 



or rather the legs of her trousers. To her surprise and his, the 



trousers slipped from her waist and he rolled off onto the 



floor, taking her trousers with him. 



    Growling, he leapt to his feet and dove for her again. She 



managed to get one knee and one foot planted against his 



chest, but it was an awkward position and didn't give her 



enough leverage to launch him. He grasped her knees, forcing 



them apart and wedged himself between her legs. 



    Panting, she glared at him in furious silence. 



    He glared back at her. 



    That's what he meant when he said it wasn't human, she 



said tightly, discovering to her horror that she suddenly felt 



curiously close to tears. 



    Some of the anger left his face, but the emotions that 



flickered in his eyes confused herhurt, relief, pride in quick 



succession. Before she could question him further, he shifted 



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upward, covering her mouth with his own in a kiss that was 



both possessive and angry. 



    Surprise held her still. A confusion of sensations immersed 



her in an unbreakable grip, undermining the anger that 



lingered, or perhaps magnified by the adrenaline pumping 



through her that her anger had produced. His mouth was hot, 



seductive, as was his tongue as he forced it between her 



surprised lips and raked it across her own, inducing a 



response that encompassed her entire body as his taste and 



scent filled her. She struggled against it, fought to hold to her 



anger and supplant the temptation to fall under his spell, 



writhing and bucking against him, trying to twist her face 



away and break the kiss. 



    Her efforts only seemed to incite him. He ceased his 



exploration of her mouth and began to thrust his tongue in 



and out rhythmically, mimicking the thrust and retreat of the 



sexual act with his tongue and her mouth. The motion, his 



taste, and the imagery he evoked, combined to drown the 



last ounce of willpower from her, supplanting her anger with a 



growing sense of desperation. She closed her mouth around 



his tongue, sucking him. 



    Her response shattered the last vestiges of his control. 



Wrenching his mouth from hers, he grasped the neck of her 



tunic with both hands and parted it as if it had been no more 



substantial than paper. Dalia gasped. The moment he covered 



her breast with his mouth, however, she completely lost track 



of any protest she might have thought to make. The heat of 



his mouth, the teasing nudge of his tongue evoked much the 



same response from her body as his fingers had when he had 



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teased her before, except many times over. Her head swam. 



She had to struggle to draw breath into her lungs. Her 



awareness narrowed to focus on the sensations rioting 



through her and little else. 



    Frustration surfaced, briefly, when she discovered her 



restraints prevented her from either holding him to her or 



thrusting him away, and she was of two minds about which 



she wanted worse. The powerful sensations tearing through 



her as he moved his mouth from one breast to the other, 



teasing her, lathing her with his tongue, nipping her with the 



edge of his teeth were almost beyond bearing, but neither did 



she think she could stand it if he stopped. 



    Reuel, she gasped his name, in supplication, reaching a 



point at last where she felt she would die if he didn't stop so 



she could catch her breath. Don't! Please! 



    For a moment, she thought he was deaf to her pleas. 



Slowly, he lifted his head and his gaze locked with hers. She 



swallowed with an effort, feeling her body cry out with 



demand the moment he ceased to tease her. Oh god! Don't 



stop! 



    His features contorted, almost, it seemed, with pain. 



Leaning toward her, he covered her mouth with his own once 



more, kissing her deeply, almost savagely, as he slipped a 



hand between their bodies and traced the cleft of her sex, 



parting the flesh, testing the exquisitely sensitive inner 



surfaces with the tip of his finger and sending excruciating 



shock waves through her that made her belly clench painfully. 



She rocked her hips, moving against his hand, urging him to 



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penetrate her body. A groan of pleasure clawed its way up 



her throat when he did. 



    He probed her with his thick forefinger only a moment, 



however. Disappointment filled her when he withdrew it. In 



the next moment, she felt something far larger probing her in 



its place. She arched toward him eagerly, aiding his descent 



into her depths as he stretched her woman's passage with his 



engorged phallus, filling her slowly. His claiming sent waves 



of escalating passion through her, lifting her to new heights 



when she'd thought she could not feel more, enjoy more, 



bear any more without shattering, fainting, dying. 



    Twisting her wrists, she gripped the chain as he withdrew 



and drove into her once more. He caught her hips, holding 



her as he withdrew and thrust deeply inside her again, and 



again in almost a frenzy of deep, stabbing thrusts. She met 



him with a fervor that matched or surpassed his, feeling the 



tension build inside of her until, abruptly, it began to 



disintegrate, breaking apart in an eruption that poured heat 



and pleasure through her like lava, making the walls of her 



sex clench and unclench like a fisting hand around his phallus. 



    He shuddered, growling hoarsely as her body clenched 



around him, milking him of his fluids, arching jerkily as his 



body was caught up in the throes of release. When it subsided 



at last, he collapsed against her for several moments, 



gathering his strength. Finally, he pushed himself off of her 



with an effort and landed beside her on the bed. Rolling to his 



back, he dropped an arm across his eyes as he struggled to 



catch his breath. 



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    Weak in the aftermath, so sated she could not think and 



had no wish to, Dalia melted against the bed and felt as if she 



was sinking into it as darkness swarmed around her. Inside, 



her body still quaked and twitched, as if tiny electric currents 



were discharging. Gradually, almost reluctantly, the tremors 



subsided, her heart slowed, and her lungs ceased to labor to 



drag in air. 



    The questions ebbed around her once more, like the 



whispers of distant voices. As before, they tripped over one 



another, merged, tangled her mind in confusion. The anger 



had vanished. She didn't know whether it was because he had 



so sated her with pleasure or if the anger had had no 



foundation to begin with. She turned her head to study him. 



Why? Only tell me why, so I can understand. 



    He sat up abruptly, putting his back to her as he sat on the 



edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands over his face. Give me 



your word you won't do anything that would jeopardize your 



life or the life of the child, and I will release you. 



    Impatience wove its way through her. Not until I 



understand this. 



    He stood abruptly, adjusting his clothing as he turned to 



look at her. It was only then that she realized he hadn't even 



taken the time to undress himself. It occurred to her that she 



should've been repulsed at the almost primal way they had 



coupled, but even the explosive savagery of it in memory 



made her body clench all over again with remembered 



pleasure. 



    He shook his head, his lips tightening. Emotion isn't a gift. 



It's a curse, a weakness we would have been better without. I 



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should not have told you as much as I didnot yet. You're 



not ready. 



    His comments only confused her more. I am ready. 



    He leaned toward her, bracing his arms on the bed. If you 



were ready, you would not have flung it in my face as if it was 



a thing of such revulsion that ... never mind. 



    I can't accept what I don't understand, she flung at him 



as he stood away from the bed and strode toward the door. 



    He paused there, turning to study her. For several 



moments, she thought he would say nothing else. Finally, he 



spoke. 



    You are my Eve, Dalia, my curse and my salvation. 



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                              Chapter Eight 



    What does that mean? Dalia demanded as he closed the 



door behind him. She listened, but all she heard was his 



retreating footsteps. Fuck! 



    She pulled at the chain in frustration for several moments 



and finally subsided. 



    She should have told him what he wanted to hear, she 



realized irritably. He would've freed her. She'd been too 



focused on demanding answers, howeverstill too disoriented 



from what had happened between them to think clearly. 



    She settled back after a moment, knowing it was useless 



to struggle and still too weak, for that matter, to arouse 



enough strength even for anger. What had he meant, she 



wondered? His Eve? 



    It was a name, vaguely familiar, but she couldn't grasp the 



significance of it without knowing the origins. Frowning, she 



concentrated on activating the CPU assist implanted in her 



skull, referencing the word as a word first, and then as a 



name when she decided it could have nothing to do with time 



... unless he meant twilight? The end of life? 



    She dismissed that and summoned the other data. Faces 



flashed before her eyes, biographies, history. She discarded 



them, one after another. Finally, the computer referenced a 



defunct religion from several centuries earlier. Eve was the 



name given to the first womanthe woman created for the 



first man, Adamaccording to that religion, and from them 



the human race had sprung. She had been designed to be his 



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companion and mate, and she had so enthralled him that he'd 



allowed her to lead him astray. 



    The reference only left her more confused, not less so. Had 



he meant it in that context? Or had he meant something else? 



    She could not have been created for him, not in the truest 



sense. She was human and he wasn't. Perhaps it was a poetic 



reference? He had said she was his, had claimed her as his 



woman. 



    He didn't seem particularly thrilled about it, which made it 



difficult to accept that he had meant to say he loved her 



particularly since she had only just tried to cut his heart out 



and she hadn't known him more than a few hours. 



    Of course, quite obviously, he had known of her for quite 



some time. 



    Still, that only left the suggestion that she had, in fact, 



been made for him. 



    He was wrong, of course, but that didn't mean he didn't 



believe it. 



    She'd been avoiding thinking about what he'd said before. 



    He'd said she was carrying his child. She waited, expecting 



a flood of disgust, revulsion. It didn't surface. She wondered 



if it was because her mind simply refused to accept the 



possibility, or if the possibility wasn't completely revolting to 



her. 



    Was it possible? 



    With an effort, she began to carefully reconstruct the 



events of the past several months. She'd always hated the 



physical examinations the company required. She'd never 



really known why because the truth was she never 



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remembered anything that had happenedvery little, 



anyway. She remembered undressing and lying on the 



examination table and staring up at the white lights above her 



head. Then, almost as if she blinked and it was over, or fell 



asleep, the tech would be telling her that she could get 



dressed and leave. 



    She knew it wasn't sleep, though. She couldn't recall the 



sensation of falling asleep. She couldn't recall any sense of 



sluggishness when she became aware again. It was more like 



a switch had been turned offthen turned on again. 



    Nausea washed over her. 



    Twice now, she remembered, Reuel had suggested that 



she was just the same as he was, a cyborg. When she'd tried 



to seize his ship, he'd called her a rogue hunter, gone rogue. 



She knew that was what he'd meant when he'd said she was 



his Eve. 



    It wasn't possible. She remembered her childhood! She 



remembered her parents. She was named for her mother and 



her last name, Varner-Hoskins 570, VH570it was typical 



now to combine the names of both parents. The 570 only 



referenced the order of their family in the name pool. 



    It was purely coincidental that it also suggested one 



generation beyond Reuel's designation, 469. If what he was 



suggesting had been true, she would have been CO570, not 



VH570 ... unless. 



    She couldn't accept it. Cyborgs had no past, no childhood 



memories, no parents and therefore no memory of parents. 



Such things could have easily been planted in her mind, she 



knew, and she would not be able to tell the difference, but 



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there was no reason that she could see why it would have 



been done. Why make her believe she was human if she 



wasn't? 



    The company would not have done that. There would have 



been no incentive, nothing to gain by it and they never did 



anything unless there was something to be gained from it. 



    Supposing, however, that whomever it was that had 



designed Reuel and the others had not been able to refrain 



from seeing if he could take it one step closer? 



    That still seemed unlikely. She still didn't believe it, but 



she had to accept that it was possible. 



    It seemed equally unlikely that Reuel would be wrong, 



however. Cyborgs were as precise and meticulous about 



gathering and collating information as any of their 



predecessors. 



    Leaving that line of thought for the moment, she went 



back to the possibility of the life growing inside of her. 



    This time, a definite sense of warmth washed over her. 



    She summoned the computer assist again, commanding it 



to analyze the fluids Reuel had deposited inside of her. The 



results confused her further. The seminal fluids were barren 



of life seed. 



    An odd sense of loss filled her. She didn't want to examine 



it, though, and thrust the emotion away, commanding the 



computer to analyze the life growing inside of her. 



    Within moments, it began to furnish her with the stats. Her 



first feeling was one of relief. She hadn't harmed it. It still 



lived, was growing ... within a bio-engineered womb. 



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    Her heart seemed to trip over itself. Why is the womb bio- 



engineered, not natural? 



    Insufficient data to determine. 



    Was it transplanted to replace a defective organ? 



    Negative. 



    When was it implanted ... the womb? 



    February fourteen twenty two hundred. 



    That can't be right. That was on my birthdaythree years 



ago. I'd remember that. 



    Date of activation. 



    I was borntwenty years ago! I wasn't activated, you 



stupid, defective computer! 



    Not surprisingly, the computer didn't respond. 



    Give me the DNA of the life-form, Dalia said after a 



moment. 



    Combined DNA of donors Reuel, Cyborg Organism 



generation 479 and Dalia, Virtual Human generation 570. 



Donors each provided precisely half the combined DNA. 



    Dalia felt a sob of denial tear its way up her throat as the 



computer recited the codes. What is the designation of the 



life-form? she managed finally. 



    Unknown life-form. 



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                              Chapter Nine 



    Dalia felt numb, but the thought had no more than 



occurred to her than a hysterical urge to laugh assailed her. 



How could she feel anything? She wasn't human. Machines 



mimicked human emotions. They didn't, truly, feel them. 



    But she did. And Reuel did. And from what she could see, 



the others did. 



    It wasn't right that those bastards had allowed her to 



believeno, made her believethat she was human when 



she wasn't. Even worse, they had designed, programmed and 



trained her to kill her own kindwhatever that was. 



    What Reuel had done was just as wrong. She should hate 



him as much as she did the others who'd used her. 



    She wondered why she didn't. 



    Now that she knew everythingor much of it anywayshe 



couldn't help but wonder if he'd reprogrammed her mind not 



to hate him and the others. If he could infiltrate the company 



and impregnate her, that shouldn't have been beyond his 



capabilities. 



    She was going to go insane wondering how much of her 



memories was real, and how much was pure lies. How much 



of what she felt were her feelings? 



    Several hours passed before Reuel returned. He stood in 



the door way for several moments, holding a tray of food, and 



finally entered. Setting the tray on his desk, he pulled a 



drawer out, extracted a key and removed the manacles. She 



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rubbed her wrists, studying him. Finally, she got up and went 



into the head. 



    She glanced toward the door to the corridor when she 



came out, but there wasn't much point in bolting. She had 



nowhere to go. 



    I brought the food for you, he said, his voice carefully 



neutral. 



    She wasn't particularly hungry, but then she hadn't eaten 



much at breakfast, and she'd expended a good deal of energy 



fighting himandafterwards. She took the tray and sat 



cross-legged in the middle of the bed with it. He frowned, 



obviously not terribly happy about the idea of crumbs in his 



bed. Suppressing the urge to smile, she pretended to ignore 



him and ate the meal he'd brought. 



    Is there some particular reason why I wasn't told? she 



asked after a few moments, more because she was 



uncomfortable with his scrutiny than because she expected to 



get a straight answer from him. 



    He was very good at appearing to be completely open and 



actually telling her nothing at all. 



    By the company? 



    By any damn body! she retorted tightly. 



    He frowned, his lips tightening at her tone. I wouldn't 



have told you at all if I'd believed that, in time, you'd learn to 



accept us. Your ... contempt for us, hatred of us, runs too 



deep, however. I realized that you would always hate us 



unless you could be brought to see that we are the same. 



    Dalia studied him a long moment and looked down at her 



food again. Not as deep as you seem to think, she 



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muttered. If it did, I wouldn't havedone what I did a little 



while ago. 



    To her surprise, he colored faintly. You were bound. I'm 



well aware I gave you no choice. 



    She shrugged. He was a real dolt if he thought she hadn't 



gone a good bit beyond submittingor the call of duty for 



that matter. Maybe he'd been too enthralled to realize she 



was thoroughly enjoying it? Or, maybe, he thought she'd only 



pretended to enjoy it to get him to let his guard down? 



    The last seemed most likely. 



    I won't apologize. 



    Dalia bit her lip, tamping the urge to smile, then 



concentrated on her food once more. I'd be disappointed if 



you did, she murmured, but you still didn't answer my 



question. 



    Something flickered across his face, but it was gone too 



quickly for her to grasp it. Relief? 



    He frowned. I am Reuel CO469, prototype for those, he 



gestured toward the other end of the ship, for all the 



CO469s. I was designed using the company's combined 



knowledge about robotics, bioengineering, artificial 



intelligenceeven DNA structuring. When I was completed, 



they realized that I was more human than cyborg, which I 



have to suppose was the goal to start with. I had most of the 



advantages of being both, and few of the disadvantagesto 



their way of thinking, anyway. The problem arose that we 



knew we were cyborg. We were activated with that 



knowledge, with everything we needed to learn to become 



more human than cyborg, but none of the learning 



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experiences necessary for humans to develop the correct 



emotional responses to given situations. 



    Some of us managed to develop, more or less, normal 



responses anyway. Some did not and some simply could not 



accept that they weren't human and never could be. They 



developed abnormal emotional behavior and became 



dangerously unstable. 



    The company had already embraced the CO469 



enthusiastically, however. They'd produced nearly ten 



thousand before they discovered the design flaw. 



    Dalia almost choked on the drink of water she'd just taken. 



Ten thousand! We were told there was less than a 



thousand! 



    You, of all people, are surprised that the company lied to 



you? he murmured wryly. They destroyed several thousand 



before they had ever been activated, but the company 



cringed at the loss and finally decided to try something else. 



They reprogrammed some ... not very successfully. Those 



had to be destroyed, as well, and they'd already sent out 



nearly five thousand. 



    They created a new prototypeyou. They gave you 



almosteverything that they had given to me, but they were 



cautious for once. The first VT570s were all female, and 



designed to be like their human counterparts, physically 



smaller and weaker than the male CO469s. They were also 



given a childhoodeverything it took to support the fantasy 



they had createdand not told that they were not human. 



Since these were successful, they also produced male 



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VT570s. All of them were designed to be rogue hunters ... to 



track down and destroy the CO469s. 



    The things they learned from creating you, they were able 



to use to perfect some of the CO469s, protecting at least a 



part of their investment. But those who'd become completely 



unstable were beyond repairing and those who were not able 



to learn true emotional response were also defective in such a 



way that they could not recoup their losses, so those are the 



rogues that were first targeted for destruction. 



    Phase two was to round up the remaining rogues and 



reprogram them. 



    Dalia frowned thoughtfully as she finished her meal and 



returned the tray to the desk. I wasn't toldWe weren't told 



because they were afraid it would reverse the benefits of the 



additional programming? 



    He shrugged. I cannot say for certain, but very likely. It 



had the added benefit, though, of making the VT570 despise 



the CO469, which in turn made them very aggressive in 



tracking and killing the CO469. If they had informed the 



VT570 at any time, they ran the risk of having even more 



rogues on their hands. 



    But you decided it was worth the risk in telling me? 



    We had little to lose. 



    Her lips tightened. I, on the other hand, had a great deal 



to lose. 



    Your ignorance? 



    My sanity, she said tartly. 



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    He looked her over. I did not consider that a risk. You are 



... far stronger than a human; physically, mentally, 



emotionally. 



    There was no reason why you should. As you pointed out, 



you had nothing to lose, Dalia retorted sharply. 



    I said we had little. 



    It sounded like splitting hairs to her, but she let it drop. 



Why did you impregnate me? 



    Something flickered in his eyes. I did not. I would gladly 



give up all the years that remain to me if I could. The gift of 



life is the one thing I would value above all else, but it's also 



the one thing I was not given. 



    Dalia frowned, but her inboard computer had told her as 



much. Still, the fetus contained his DNA. You infiltrated the 



company. You did something to mewithout my knowledge 



or consent. Cloning? 



    I did have the company infiltrated, and I did have you 



watched and studied. Six months ago we discovered that you 



had begun to produce live ovum ... The company discovered 



it only a few months after we did. That is why you were 



ordered to come in for more tests, monthly. I had someone 



placed, at first, only to make certain the company didn't 



decide you were too dangerous to them to live. 



    We had not found this to be the case in any of the CO469, 



and had to assume it was only the VT570 who were, possibly, 



capable of reproducing. You were the only one we had the 



chance to study, however, and we decided to see what would 



happen if male DNA was introduced at the time you produced 



a viable ovum. The CO469 was to introduce it, and inform me 



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if you reproduced. The first two attempts failed. The third did 



not. Beyond supplying you with my DNA, however, I did 



nothing more. 



    If it wasn't cloning, then what was it? 



    Abiogenesis. 



    Dalia frowned. I'm not familiar with this term. 



    Life will find a waytheoretically, spontaneous generation 



from non-living matter. Strictly speaking, perhaps not, but 



basically, abiogenesis. The cells I supplied could not be kept 



alive indefinitely, and we could not chance sending more 



without risking exposure. In your case, your body extracted 



the DNA from my cells and combined them with your own to 



complete the cycle. 



    It was a lot to absorb at one time. She had made herself 



pregnant? Maybe her own body had instigated the chemical 



process, maybe it would have anywaythey would certainly 



never know nowbut, just as certainly, she hadn't done it 



completely by herself. Sowhen the company discovered 



thisthinggrowing inside of me, they panicked, ordered me 



destroyed? Where the hell was your inside man when I was 



running for my life? 



    His eyes glittered, his face contorting with anger. It is not 



a thing'. It is a childmine and yoursor mine if you've no 



taste, or instinct, for mothering. It is hopea futurepurpose 



for our kind. 



    She was a little surprised at his ferocity in defending 



something that was, when all was said and done, none of his 



damned business. It was in her body. It was living and 



growing because of her and it would not survive without her 



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to provide it with the sustenance it needed to continue to 



grow and develop. 



    For that matter, he had a hell of a nerve implying that she 



might not have motherly instincts. She had conceived the 



child, hadn't she? And, from what he'd said, with damned 



little help from him. She was just as intelligent as he was. If 



he could figure it out, she certainly could. I suppose you 



think you have fatherly instincts? she snapped. 



    I will learn, he said tightly. 



    Her eyes narrowed, but she realized it was pointless to 



argue the matter now, when neither of them even knew if it 



would mature, particularly since she was not currently in a 



situation where she could prevent him from doing just as he 



pleased. You damned near missed your chance, she 



retorted. If I hadn't awakened when I did, we'd both be dead 



nowme and thechild. 



    The one who infiltrated was discovered a week before 



your last examination and destroyed. We came when we 



learned of it but discovered the company had already 



attempted to destroy you, as well. I didn't know, for certain, 



that you had been impregnated until you told me when you 



arrived. 



    There was at least some satisfaction in that, but it irritated 



the hell out of her to realize that she'd not only been used 



and chased after like a dangerous animal, she'd also been 



herded and trapped like one. 



    She extended her wrists. Reuel stared at them for several 



moments and finally looked up at her face. You refuse to 



accept ... us? 



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    His hesitancy caught her attention. She had the feeling 



that he'd intended to say something else. Truthfully? I don't 



know how I feel right now beyond angry. As far as I can see, 



you are no better than they are. 



    He flushed, but only partly from anger. You will at least 



admit that there was no other way for us? If I had 



approached you openly, you would not have listened to 



anything I had to say. You would not have allowed me to try 



to persuade you. You would have done as you had been 



trained to do. You would have tried to kill me and I would 



have been forced to kill you to protect myself, or take you 



prisoner. 



    As you did. 



    The situation was different. You came to me for help. 



    Which allowed you to use me. 



    His lips tightened. If you can see only black and white, 



and nothing in between.... He broke off; his expression 



spoke eloquently of frustration. I took the only course open 



to me. If you cannot accept that ... if you cannot also learn to 



forgive, then you're not as human as I believed and there is 



no hope for us. 



    As much as she would've liked it to be otherwise, she not 



only saw his point, she discovered she wanted to forgive him 



and accept him. She still didn't trust him, however, and until 



and unless she came to, she wasn't about to simply accept 



everything he had told her. There is certainly no doubt in my 



mind that you are very human if you can believe, only 



because I enjoyed sex with you, that I'm going to believe 



everything you tell me and fall into your arms like a 



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complete fool! she said tartly. Learning to accept and 



forgive implies that I will be given time to. 



    Something gleamed in his eyes. A smile tugged at the 



corners of his lips, proving to her beyond a shadow of doubt 



that he was far more man than cyborg, and she didn't have to 



search hard to figure out why he looked so pleased. 



    She gave him a look. Not that I have any interest in 



repeating it, she lied nastily. But it was an interesting ... 



experiment. She had the satisfaction of seeing the smug look 



vanish, but somehow it wasn't nearly as satisfying as she'd 



hoped it would be. 



    She didn't want to examine why, but the pang she felt 



wouldn't allow her to lie to herself. The truth was, she was 



ready to forgive him now, because she did feel a connection 



to him and empathy. Finding herself in pretty much the same 



situation was probably a part of it. Discovering that the life 



growing inside of her was a part of him, she thought, had 



something to do with it as well, but it was still more 



complicated even than that. 



    Some ... transformation had begun inside of her from the 



moment she'd met him, maybe even before she'd met him. 



Maybe what he'd said before was truer than even he realized. 



Maybe she really was his Eve. Maybe she'd been predisposed 



from conception to feel as if she belonged with him. 



    She didn't know. What she did know was that she cared 



far more about him than she logically should have. She 



looked down at her hands and finally lowered them. I give 



you my word I won't do anything that could cause harm to 



come to my child. 



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                               Chapter Ten 



    Despite their tentative truce, Dalia was surprised when 



they arrived at the rebel camp only a little over a week later. 



She would not have thought that Reuel trusted her enough to 



take her to the camp. She certainly would never have 



guessed that it was as close, relatively speaking, as it was. 



    Contrary to frequent speculation on the part of the 



company, the planet the rebels had chosen was well within 



the inner quadrant of settled worlds and, since they were 



more human, physiologically than droid, they had of necessity 



chosen one inhabitable by, and inhabited by, humans. It was 



a young planet, however, and far too primal to appeal to the 



more civilized tastes of the confederation. Only a few small 



colonies had been established there by members of the 



confederation and those were near the poles, where the 



temperature was somewhat cooler. The species of humans 



indigenous to the planet had not even reached the point in 



development where they had begun to form a recognizable 



societal structure. 



    Reuel had been carefully distant and polite since their 



confrontation, but he'd begun to pace the cabin he shared 



with her like a caged beast most nights instead of sharing the 



bed with her. 



    She supposed her nasty remark had convinced him any 



further attempts toward intimacy would be rebuffed. His 



guess wouldn't have been far off, not at first anyway. 



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    She didn't trust him, and she knew she couldn't trust her 



own judgment if she allowed him to get too close. She needed 



time to decide whether she could accept what he'd done and 



why he'd done it. She needed time to accept the fact that her 



entire world as she'd known it had vanished. In the blink of 



an eye, she'd lost her past and her future. She'd lost herself 



everything she'd ever believed was true, everything she'd 



ever believed in. 



    She thought she should have felt different, knowing now 



that she was not human. She couldn't decided whether the 



fact that she didn't meant that she hadn't fully grasped and 



accepted it, or if it meant that she had fully grasped and 



accepted it, and it didn't make as much difference to her as 



she would've thought it would have. 



    One thing that did not change was her desire for Reuel. 



She'd found him attractive the moment she saw him. Being 



with him had only increased her attraction to him because it 



had ceased to be a matter of thinking he appealed to her and 



become an absolute certainty the moment he touched her 



intimately. 



    Unfortunately, by the time she'd come around to the 



realization that there was no sense in depriving herself of 



enjoying his caresses, they had arrived on the rebel world 



and Reuel, showing every sign of relief, had escaped her 



clutches. 



    Dalia was in the cabin when they landed. Reuel had given 



her permission to roam the ship at will once more, but she 



wasn't comfortable with the brooding, speculative looks the 



men cast at her. She supposed she had no right to quibble. 



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She might not have instigated the little erotic scene in the rec 



room, but she had made no attempt to stop it either. The 



truth was, despite the fact that she'd never engaged in sexual 



activities before, she was neither self-conscious nor in any 



way inhibited about sexuality. It would never have occurred 



to her to engage in any sort of sexual act publicly, but she'd 



found it wildly stimulating. Most of it had simply been Reuel, 



but she couldn't deny, to herself at least, that being watched 



and desired had added a touch of spice to it. 



    If it had disturbed anyone, it was Reuel. She had the 



distinct feeling that he not only regretted yielding to whatever 



demon had prompted him to do it because he thought it had 



angered and distressed her, but also that it irked him that 



he'd shared her sexually. He'd developed the habit since of 



staring darkly at any of the men who looked at her as if he 



needed only a nudge of provocation to tear their heads off. 



    There was a hesitancy about his attitude as he stood in the 



doorway of the cabin studying her, that it sent a wave of 



uneasiness through her. When she turned to look at him, she 



saw he was holding a pair of manacles. You are a prisoner of 



the Cyborg Liberation. I cannot allow you to roam freely when 



we leave the ship. 



    Dalia stared at him in disbelief. You're not serious! 



    I am. 



    Exactly what is it that you suspect that I will do? 



    Leaveat the very first opportunity. 



    Dalia didn't deny it. Truthfully, she was a little surprised he 



hadn't accused her of having thoughts about sabotage. As far 



as escaping went, she hadn't considered it, mostly because 



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she hadn't expected him to bring her to the rebel stronghold. 



She knew there was a better than even chance that she 



would have thought of it at some point, however. She knew 



she wouldn't be accepted by the other roguesrebels 



certainly not at first, anyway. From what she could tell, Reuel 



was their leader, and she knew he would protect the child she 



carried, whatever he thought of her. Unless he chained her to 



his wrist, though, she was bound to have some unpleasant, 



potentially dangerous, confrontations and it was possible 



she'd find this no healthier an atmosphere for her continued 



existence than being in the bosom of the company. 



    Even though she hadn't spent a lot of time thinking about 



what she would do beyond escaping the company's assassins, 



she certainly hadn't had any desire or intention of joining 



those she'd spent the past several years tracking. 



    She had to suppose Reuel was well aware that she hadn't 



resigned herself to accept what he thought she couldn't 



change. 



    Glaring at him, she held out her wrists for the restraints. 



Without a word, he secured the manacles to her wrists, then 



led her down the companionway to the cockpit. The four 



who'd traveled with them were already strapped in for 



landing. Guiding her to the first seat they came to, he 



strapped her in before moving to the console to land the 



craft. 



    As resentful as she was about being relegated to the status 



of secured prisoner once more, she quickly discovered 



strapping her into her seat wasn't just an extension of her 



loss of privilege. The moment the craft dropped through the 



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planet's atmosphere, it was bounced around like a leaf caught 



in a vortex. She clamped her teeth together to keep from 



biting her tongue, closing her eyes as the craft shimmied so 



hard it rattled even her eyes in her head, making her see 



double. For perhaps ten minutes, the shaking grew 



progressively worse until she'd begun to wonder if the craft 



would still be sound enough to land. Finally, the shaking and 



bouncing began to taper off. 



    When she opened her eyes again, she could see that 



they'd dropped low enough the green below them was 



beginning to take the shape of individual trees. The green 



gave way to devastationbrown and blackened trees, 



scorched earth and flowing, red streams, and, in the center of 



it, she saw the smoking top of a volcano that looked to be 



about as tall as a hundred story building. They passed over a 



smaller one before landmass gave way to sea. In the 



distance, another landmass emerged from the mist and the 



sea, looking, at first, like nothing more than a dark cloud 



hovering on the horizon. 



    As they neared it, she could see that it wasn't a single 



landmass, but islands, pushed up from the sea by volcanic 



activity so long ago that a young forest covered the crown of 



several of them. Bald red cliffs rose from the sea perhaps a 



hundred feet almost vertically on the largest of the islands, 



the one she saw that they were headed for. 



    The craft dropped lower as they neared, coming in 



uncomfortably close to the tops of the trees. The altitude 



prevented her from seeing the stockade until they were upon 



it. The moment they cleared the outer wall, the craft dropped 



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to the ground and settled with a bone-jarring, teeth-rattling 



finality that made Dalia wonder for several seconds if they'd 



crashed, a confusion compounded by the fact that they'd 



scarcely come to a complete halt when the men threw off 



their restraints, jumped to their feet, and stampeded toward 



the gangplank as if the ship would explode any moment. 



    She relaxed fractionally when Reuel, looking completely 



unruffled and unhurried, sauntered back to where she was 



seated and unfastened her. Helping her to her feet, he herded 



her before him. 



    She didn't know what she'd expected, but what she saw 



wasn't it. Surrounding the camp was a stockade that 



appeared to have been made out of trees that had been 



stripped of their limbs, leaves, and bark, and then driven into 



the ground. The compound itself was dotted with stumps, 



some level with the dirt, others protruding from it anywhere 



from two to five feet. A small waterfall had been 



encompassed by the stockade at one end. A pool formed at 



its base, then meandered across the compound, forming a 



shallow brook. Scattered about the compound in no sort of 



order that she could discern were crude shelters, also 



constructed of raw timber and roofed, from what she could 



see, with the limbs that had been shaved from the trees. 



    She'd seen primitive villages over the years, but this 



stunned her. Reuel gave her a nudge, breaking through her 



shocked dismay, and she made her way down the gangplank. 



The ground, she quickly discovered, was littered with rocks 



and debris like a minefield. She watched her feet as Reuel 



grasped her arm and led her through the crude village. She 



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tried to avoid as much as she could, but walking was painful. 



After a moment, Reuel scooped her into his arms and carried 



her, and she was able to look around once more. 



    Most of the structures they passed were only partially 



constructedshe assumed they were, at any rate. They were 



little more than posts with a thatch of limbs supported 



between them. She saw maybe a dozen inhabitants moving 



about, but only a few of them appeared to be engaged in any 



task. 



    Reuel took her to the largest, complete structure near 



where they'd landed and set her on her feet once more when 



they were inside. It was as crude inside as out, and contained 



very little. The room he led her to had no window, and 



certainly no artificial light, but it wasn't really necessary. 



There was enough light pouring through the roof and walls to 



fully illuminate the small space, which contained nothing 



more than a narrow cot, a crude table and chair that looked 



as if they'd been made of unrefined wood, a large container 



she saw held water and a smaller, empty one, that she simply 



stared at for several moments as the revolting realization 



slowly filtered into her mind that it was meant for use when it 



was necessary to eliminate her body waste. 



    She realized Reuel had released her arm at the doorway 



and turned to look at him. 



    What now? 



    We wait. 



    With that, he stepped out, closed the door, and bolted it 



with a heavy chain. 



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    She stared at the chain, then peered at Reuel's retreating 



form through the gaps between the wood as he left the hut 



and finally disappeared completely from view. Still feeling 



strangely blank, she moved to the cot, tested it to make sure 



it wouldn't collapse when she put her weight on it, and finally 



sat. Wait for what? she muttered. 



    She frowned thoughtfully, studying the room around her. 



She wasn't accustomed to luxury by any means, but she was 



used to far more civilized surroundings. Was this ... crude, 



purely utilitarian, and not very functional at that, village the 



result of life on the move? Because the rebels were mostly 



male and didn't care a great deal about comfort? Or was 



there another explanation for this ... atrocity that didn't 



immediately present itself? 



    The entire place looked as if it had been thrown together 



hastily. In fact, now that she thought about it, everything 



looked so raw she knew it couldn't possibly even have been 



here more than a few weeks at the outside. Despite the half 



finished structures they'd passed, it also didn't look like a 



place that had been planned for permanence. For, surely, if it 



had been, they would have taken the time to build more 



sturdy shelters? 



    She shook her head. The whole situation was just so 



completely bizarre she couldn't get her mind around it. 



Finally, she got off the cot and went to peer through the 



cracks in the wall. She'd checked the entire circumference of 



the outer wall of the structure before she realized that she 



couldn't see anything at all from her jail cell. She could hear 



activity, but it was hard to tell what they were doing. Hours 



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passed. Occasionally, she would hear someone pass close by 



and she would jump up and move to the wall to watch them 



until they disappeared from view, but otherwise, she had 



nothing to occupy her but the puzzle she was trying to piece 



together. 



    Toward evening, when the sun had sunk low enough that 



the light had begun to dim in the room, Reuel returned with 



food. To her surprise, instead of leaving once he'd handed it 



to her, he moved around the room outside her cell restlessly 



while she ate. Deciding he must be waiting to take the tray 



with him, she moved to the door and shoved it under once 



she'd finished. Instead of taking it and leaving, however, he 



set it aside, opened the door again, and tossed a pair of boots 



to her. 



    Put these on. 



    Surprised, she stared at him a couple of minutes and 



finally pulled the boots on. They fit as if they'd been made for 



her, and she assumed they must have been. They'd been 



fashioned out of something that looked like skin, animal skin 



she assumed from the thickness. It made her feel a little 



queasy to think she'd thrust her feet into something that had 



once been living, but it seemed par for the situation. They 



didn't appear to have any facilities for making things out of 



synthetic materials, or making synthetic material for that 



matter. 



    Catching her arm, he led her from the structure in the 



direction of the waterfall. She saw he was carrying a small 



bundle under his arm, but she didn't question it until they 



reached the pool. Settling the bundle on a stump jutting from 



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the ground, he opened it and handed her something that 



looked like a rock. 



    Soapwashcloth, he said succinctly. Bathe. 



    She stared at him and then looked around. In that? she 



asked in dismay, pointing toward the pool. Butit'll 



contaminate the water! 



    For the first time since he'd come to the cabin on the ship 



earlier, a smile tugged at his lips. We get our drinking water 



from a well. 



    Dalia didn't feel an answering amusement. She looked at 



the pool of water again. Aren't thereliving things in it? 



    They won't bother you. 



    It wasn't the answer she'd wanted. A simple no would 



have made her feel worlds better. 



    This, she supposed, explained Reuel's penchant for 



antiquated thingslike water in the particle bath. What if the 



water covers my head? she said uneasily. 



    Hold your breath. 



    I'm so glad you find this amusing! she said tartly. 



    He chuckled. The pool is only a few feet deep. You won't 



be submerged unless you fall down. If you fall, get up. 



    Smart ass, Dalia thought irritably as she sat down and 



tugged the boots off. When she stood once more, she looked 



down at the tunic she was wearinganother of those Reuel 



had supplied for her to wear. With her wrists manacled, she 



couldn't take it off. Since he hadn't offered to unlock the 



manacles, she assumed she was expected to bathe in it. 



Mentally shrugging, she turned to study the water again. The 



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bank sloped down to the water's surface, but not steeply. She 



thought she could manage to walk down it without slipping. 



    Reuel caught hold of the tunic as she took a step toward it. 



You need to take this off. 



    She turned and gave him a look. My wrists are manacled 



together. Just how do you propose I do that? 



    He frowned and patted the pockets of his trousers. His lips 



twisted wryly and she knew he hadn't brought the key. 



    It seemed unlikely that he'd forgotten'. Cyborgs didn't 



have memory lapses'. They might fail to observe. They might 



be deactivated, making it impossible to record. They might 



even suffer outside interference of their recording abilities, 



but they didn't forget'. 



    On the other hand, he'd brought the bundle when he'd 



brought her meal. Bringing her down to bathe certainly wasn't 



an impulse. 



    Whatever it was he'd been doing since they'd arrived had 



undoubtedly so completely absorbed his attention that he'd 



overlooked that one important detail. 



    She was still wondering what could possibly have required 



so much of his active mental resources when he grasped the 



shoulders of the tunic and separated the seams. The tunic fell 



to her feet. She stared down at it with a combination of 



surprise and dawning outrage. Your disregard for husbanding 



your resources borders on criminal! she snapped angrily. 



    It's my tunic, he pointed out. And I'm already a 



criminal. What will they do? Jail me first for ten years, then 



execute me? 



    But I was wearing it! 



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    I broke the seams. It's repairable. 



    That seemed inarguable, but she was still irritated. Without 



another word, she turned and made her way to the pool. She 



hesitated at the edge and finally stepped in. To her surprise, 



the water was warm, almost hot in fact. After a fractional 



hesitation, she placed her other foot into the water and 



moved away from the edge until the water was lapping her 



knees. 



    Despite his reassurances, she didn't want to test whether 



or not it got any deeper. Bending at the waist, she wet the 



cloth. Something drew her attention as she did so, and as she 



straightened once more, she glanced around at Reuel. 



    He was standing where she'd left him, staring at her, or 



rather her ass, as if every brain function had shut down. 



Apparently her stillness filtered through, for after several 



moments, he blinked. When he did, she turned around once 



more, frowning thoughtfully as she lathered the cloth in her 



hand. 



    After a moment, a faint smile curled her lips as the 



realization settled in upon her that, regardless of what he 



thought of her or felt toward her, he still desired her. 



    She didn't consciously set out to seduce him. She didn't 



even actually consider teasing him. To begin with, it was 



more a matter of curiosity than anything else that spurred her 



to experiment to see what she might do that would have a 



similar effect on him. 



    Dropping the soap, she bent at the waist once more and 



lathered her thighs with slow deliberation. When she twisted 



around to rub the cloth over her buttocks, she saw that he 



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had that glassy-eyed look of complete absorption again, 



watching as she rubbed the cloth slowly over first one buttock 



and then the other and finally slipped the cloth along the cleft 



between the two. 



    He blinked when she did that, swallowing as if it took an 



effort to gather enough moisture into his mouth to complete 



the action. Warmth spread through her as she watched his 



face and she lost track of why she'd begun the tease him in 



the first place. 



    Straightening once more, she turned to face him as she 



rubbed the cloth over her breasts, down her belly and 



between her legs. He studied her hand for several moments 



before his gaze lifted to meet hers. 



    For several moments, neither of them so much as 



breathed. Abruptly, he strode toward her. 



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                             Chapter Eleven 



    Dalia felt her heart execute an erratic little stammer and 



then begin to race, as if struggling to regain its rhythm. 



Adrenaline gushed into her system, bringing a flush of 



hypersensitivity to her skin as Reuel reached her. Without 



hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her 



flush against him, lifting her up to meet him as he lowered his 



head and covered her mouth with his own. 



    A deep sense of gratification filled her as he flooded her 



senses with himself. She had wanted him, but she hadn't 



realized how deeply she had hungered for his caresses until 



she felt it gnawing at her vitals, felt her body clamor with 



instant need as her mind and body absorbed his scent and 



taste as if his essence were as essential to her as air and 



water. 



    A jolt went through him as he felt the chain of the manacle 



glide up his chest as she reached upward to grip his 



shoulders. Breaking the kiss, he straightened, lifting her off 



her feet and guiding her legs around his waist. She locked her 



ankles behind his back and lifted her arms, looping them 



around his shoulders and spearing her fingers through his 



dark hair as she lifted her lips to his once more. 



    He seized upon her offering like a starving man, his mouth 



hungry and demanding and supplicating all at once as he 



delved his tongue into her mouth and rubbed it sensuously, 



possessively along the tender inner flesh of her mouth, 



sending a flood of heat through her. Sharp needles of 



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sensation wove through her, absorbed into her flesh at every 



point she brushed against him despite the teasing barrier his 



clothing presented. 



    Frustrated, she grasped the fabric of his tunic and 



gathered it into her fists, tugging it upward. He helped her, 



shrugging his arms from it, breaking the kiss long enough to 



pull it over his head and toss it in the direction of the bank 



before he hoisted her higher and kissed her throat and the 



upper slope of her breasts. 



    Moisture flooded her sex in a wash of anticipation as she 



felt him fumbling at his trousers. But the moment his mouth 



moved downward and covered the aching tip of one breast, 



her entire world focused on that one point of intensely 



delightful sensation. She gasped. Her arms tightened around 



his head, clutching him to her. 



    He had aligned his body with hers and thrust upward, 



pushing down on her hips at the same time and sinking the 



head of his cock inside of her before she realized he meant to 



enter her. A whimper of pleasure escaped her and he lifted 



his head, his gaze locking with hers as he bore her hips 



inexorably downward until she was impaled to the hilt of his 



cock. She panted as she felt her body stretching, adjusting to 



his hard, unyielding flesh, but the sensations palpitating 



through her were so exquisite she found it impossible to 



remain still. She moved restlessly against him, urging him to 



move inside of her. 



    His face went taut, twisted as her movements drove him 



over the edge. Gripping her hips almost bruisingly, he lifted 



her up and pushed her down again, sheathing himself inside 



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her, withdrawing, and pushing again in rough, jerky motions 



that drove her into mindless ecstasy. Within moments, she 



felt herself hovering on the brink and then pitching over it 



into blissful oblivion as pleasure rocked her body. Almost 



simultaneously, as if her own culmination had pushed him 



over the edge as well, she felt his body convulsing in 



completion, felt the jerk of his cock as his release exploded 



from him in a crescendo of passion. 



    His arms tightened around her as Dalia felt her own body 



go limp with relief. He swayed slightly. With an effort, Dalia 



lifted her arms from around his neck, gripping his shoulders. 



Withdrawing his spent flesh from her body, he allowed her to 



slide slowly down his length until her feet touched the ground. 



He pulled her close once more, running a hand caressingly 



along her back, but she sensed that he'd withdrawn, 



distancing himself from her emotionally. 



    Discomfort settled over her, making her feel suddenly 



awkward. She wondered how it was that they could meld so 



completely, pleasure each other so thoroughly, and still feel 



such distrust of one another that they could find no common 



ground on a mental or emotional level. 



    This was the point, in the afterglow of their pleasure, 



where they should be expressing deeper feelingsor polite 



thank yous for a good fuck at the very least, but she couldn't 



express what she didn't understand and she couldn't bring 



herself to denigrate what happened between them by acting 



as if he'd just handed her a bouquet of flowers. Clearing her 



throat uncomfortably, she pushed against him. When he 



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released her, she turned away without meeting his eyes and 



looked around for the soap he'd given her. 



    She saw it had floated halfway across the pool and, with a 



sense of relief that she had something to do besides stand 



around and avoid his gaze, she went after it. 



    He stood where she'd left him, studying her while he 



absently removed the rest of his clothing and began to bathe 



himself, waiting, she sensed, for her to say something. 



Instead of diminishing, the sense of awkwardness intensified 



as she finished her bath. What did he expect her to say? Its a 



damn shame we're enemies, because I really enjoy having 



sex with you? I wish you'd considered wooing me before you 



fucked me over? 



    She considered herself a reasonable person. Under the 



circumstances, she couldn't really fault him for the course 



he'd taken. He'd had no reason to believe she would be 



anything but hostile and uncooperative. The truth was, she 



probably would have been. 



    So what did that mean? There never would have been a 



chance for them, no matter what? 



    She frowned at that thought, wondering, if she really did 



consider him an enemy, and if she really did distrust and 



despise him for what he'd done, why she would think it at all. 



    The answer was simple, but not something she felt like she 



could accept. 



    She had to consider that her logic must be faulty at 



present. If she accepted everything that he'd told her, then 



her body was in the grips of some hormonal and chemical 



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changes that she'd never before experienced. It stood to 



reason those changes would affect her logical brain functions. 



    She could not trust her judgment, not when she knew that 



Reuel was a dangerous, and, from what she knew from 



personal experience, ruthless, man. 



    Shaking off her thoughts, she finished her bath, climbed 



from the pool, and dried herself off with the length of cloth 



Reuel had brought for that purpose. After a moment, Reuel 



followed suit, collected the clothing he'd tossed onto the 



bank, and began tugging his clothes on once more. When 



she'd finished drying off, she wrapped the cloth around her 



since she couldn't dress with the manacles attached to her 



wrists. 



    Reuel looked displeased, but it was hardly her fault. If he 



didn't want her parading around the compound half naked, he 



should have remembered to bring the key or not manacled 



her to begin with. 



    She supposed she could see his point to an extent. Despite 



the nearly twenty-foot stockade that encompassed the 



perimeter of the compound, it didn't look very secure. If she'd 



had the desire to escape, there wouldn't have been much to 



even slow her down. She could jump a good fifteen feet flat 



footed, so the stockade itself was no hindrance. Besides, she 



suspected there would have to be large gaps in the stockade 



on each end where it crossed the water. She could see the 



water was flowing freely. She still had no idea of how many 



Cyborg inhabited this camp, but there were certainly not 



manytoo few to present much of a problem if she'd decided 



to sneak out after dark. 



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    Dismissing her irritation, she tugged her boots on, tucked 



her towel snugly around her breasts, and headed back. Reuel 



caught up to her after only a few steps, catching hold of her 



upper arm. 



    It was almost dark by the time they reached the structure 



where she was being held. Inside, it was completely dark. 



Reuel pulled her to a halt on the threshold and moved inside. 



After a few moments of listening to furtive movements and 



wondering what he was about, her curiosity was appeased 



when light blossomed around them, illuminating the interior 



of the structure. She saw Reuel was holding a small, cuplike 



object. Whatever it was inside the container was on fire. She 



shouldn't have been surprised considering the crudeness of 



everything else she'd seen since she'd arrived, but open flame 



for lighting in a structure made entirely of drying wood 



seemed foolhardy to say the least and she wondered if the 



Cyborgs had escaped with little more than the clothing on 



their backs. 



    That thought brought her back to the puzzle the entire 



situation represented to her mind and she wondered again 



why it was that this place felt so wrong. In a way, she 



supposed, it did make sense. The Cyborgs were on the run 



and had been since they'd gone rogue. They had certainly not 



had time to establish a place of permanence. It also made 



sense that if they had to move frequently for security reasons 



that they would not attempt to acquire a great deal. 



    She supposed what made her feel the wrongness of it was 



that Reuel simply didn't behave at all like someone on the 



run. He was cautious, alert, prepared, but completely cool 



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and collected as if he knew exactly what to expect and was 



prepared for it. There was no evidence of nervousness or fear 



in Reuel, or any of the others for that matter. If he'd been no 



more than what the company claimed the Cyborgs to be, 



emotionless machines incapable of anything more than 



mimicking the emotions of the humans they emulated, she 



wouldn't have questioned it. She knew better, though. She 



knew Reuel was capable of feeling the full spectrum, just as 



she, who'd believed she was human, could feel them. 



    It coalesced in her mind that that was exactly what made 



this situation feel wrong. The compound looked thrown 



together. It looked like something one would expect to see if 



one were looking for a group that was fighting a running 



battle. The truth was the cyborgs didn't behave as if they 



were engaged in a fight and flight campaign. 



    Still puzzling over it, Dalia went into the cell, discarded the 



cloth and settled on the bunk, tugging the boots off. She 



doubted Reuel would leave the light, just in case she took the 



notion of burning the place down to escape, and, in any case, 



she found she was tired enough to rest. To her surprise, 



Reuel followed her inside and set the light down. 



    Surprise gave way to something else, however, as he 



coolly began to remove his clothes. Despite the fact that he'd 



thoroughly pleasured her only a little while earlier, 



anticipation filtered through her mind. A prick of irritation 



surfaced, as well, that he seemed to expect her to welcome 



his sexual advances. But then she certainly hadn't given him 



any reason to think otherwise and the truth was, she did. She 



saw no reason to pretend that she didn't at this point. 



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    Settling back on the bed, she propped her arms behind her 



head and watched the flickering light lick over him in a wash 



of golden light, completely enthralled by the bunching and 



flexing of his muscles as he tugged the tunic over his head 



and tossed it aside. His boots, still wet from wading into the 



pool, proved difficult. He sat down on the edge of the cot and 



tugged them off, then stood once more and shucked his 



trousers. 



    His member was fully erect when he pushed his trousers 



down his hips, rising almost vertically from the nest of dark 



hair low on his belly. Dalia stared at it, feeling the sense of 



excitement rise as memories flickered through her mind with 



a rush of heat. 



    Without hesitation, she reached for him when he'd stepped 



out of his trousers. The taut look left his face. Placing one 



knee between her parted thighs, he covered her body with his 



own, kissing her with the ravenousness of a man dying of 



hunger, as if the bout of love making at the pool had done no 



more than whet his appetite. It was almost disconcerting, but 



far more comforting than unnerving to find she had such an 



effect on him, for she could not deny that each encounter left 



her hungering for more. 



    And, despite the urgency she sensed in him, he made no 



effort to penetrate her body at once. Instead, he roamed her 



flesh with his hands, his lips, and his tongue, endlessly it 



seemed. He coaxed heated desire from her and then stoked it 



higher and higher with each attentive caress until she was 



writhing beneath him in an agony of need. She began to beg 



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him to fill her, to bring her to fulfillment, with moans, throaty 



whimpers of need, arching against him. 



    He remained deaf to her subtle pleas, pushing her thighs 



wide and stroking one long finger along her cleft, rubbing it 



round and round her clit as he sucked first one nipple and 



then the other until she began to struggle against him, 



digging her nails into the flesh of his shoulders. She gasped 



his name, desperation in her voice, began to chant it as she 



felt the tension building inside of her until she knew she 



would climax without him ever having fully claimed her body. 



She fought it, struggling to keep it at bay until she could feel 



his cock stroking the tender flesh inside of her. 



    Abruptly, his own restraint broke and he rose on his knees. 



Catching her ankles, he jerked her hips free of the bed and, 



holding her legs against his chest, aligned his body with hers 



and rammed into her in one hard thrust, impaling her with his 



cock as if he had stabbed her. His possession caught her by 



surprise, forced the air from her lungs in a rush, and tore her 



resistance from her grasp. The inner walls of her sex quaked 



with shocked delight as he pulled a little way out and thrust 



again, in a short, hard ramming motion that sent her over the 



edge so suddenly that a strangled scream was torn from her. 



    Releasing her legs, he tumbled on top of her, scooping her 



into a tight embrace and covered her mouth in a deep kiss 



that seemed in direct opposition to his possession of her body 



as he continued thrusting inside of her in hard, sharp thrusts 



as if he were intent on stabbing her to death. 



    She felt as if she were dyingof pleasure too intense to 



contain, felt blackness creep in around her as her body 



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continued to shudder and convulse in release. He wrenched 



his mouth from hers and released a growl of satisfaction as 



his body abruptly answered the call of hers and yielded him 



up to his own release. Shuddering, he half collapsed on top of 



her, struggling to catch his breath. After a moment, he 



gathered himself and rolled off of her onto the bed beside 



her. To her surprise, he took her with him, tucking her tightly 



against his side as if he would never let her go. 



    For the first time since she'd met him, she accepted the 



feeling unquestioningly, accepted the curious warmth and 



sense of peace that flowed through her as she settled against 



him and gave herself up to the urge to slip away from 



consciousness. 



    She slept so deeply, she hardly stirred when he moved 



away from her in the predawn, dressed and left her in soul 



possession of her cell. A sense of well-being filled her when 



she rose finally ... a sense that lasted until her noon meal was 



delivered by a female cyborg. 



    Although she said nothing, the woman was openly hostile. 



After doing nothing more than plunking a tray of food inside 



the door, she slammed it shut again, locked it, tugged on the 



chain a couple of times to make certain it would hold, and 



then left again without once uttering a word. 



    It was Dalia's first real taste of being a prisoner among 



them. Reuel, she realized, had been angry with her and 



distrustful, but he had also given her the sense, from the very 



first, that he felt she belonged with them, that he wanted to 



accept her. 



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    She wondered if the woman represented the general 



feelings toward her, or if she had a personal reason for being 



so hostile. That thought brought others that were not 



welcome and left her with a vague sense of uneasiness and 



anger. 



    Boredom chased both away as the day wore on, however. 



As she had the day before, she spent most of her time pacing 



and peering through the crevices between the upright posts, 



trying to figure out what was happening. She could see 



nothing and she began to wonder if this was to be her routine 



and how long they, or rather Reuel, would consider it 



necessary to keep her under lock and key. 



    She was fairly certain the boredom would drive her mad if 



it continued long. She was accustomed to being active. Being 



imprisoned, with nothing to occupy her but her doubts and 



fears began to weigh upon her before she'd spent her second 



day in the small cell. 



    On the third day, however, all hell broke loose. 



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                            Chapter Twelve 



    If you only meant to hold me prisoner I can't imagine why 



you even bothered to bring me here, Dalia said coldly when 



Reuel arrived with her evening meal as he had the day 



before. She'd been hopeful of seeing him all day long but as 



the day wore on and boredom set in, irritation with him had 



set in, as well. 



    He studied her a long moment before he moved across the 



room and set the tray he was carrying down. I told you why 



we brought you. 



    Her lips tightened. Only to see if I can produce a living 



being? What then? What if it's just some horrible, malformed 



creature? It isn't human. The computer cannot identify it and 



therefore cannot ascertain the normality of it. 



    You implied ... more, she finished with a touch of 



petulance. 



    You are carrying the child of a new race of beings. The 



computer cannot be expected to analyze it with no data, but 



there is no reason to believe that it isn't perfectly healthy and 



normal ... for a cyborg. Is that why you're angry? You're 



afraid for the child? 



    Instead of answering, she looked away from him, realizing 



he was right. She was afraid. She'd been too shocked when 



she'd first learned of it to absorb that she was to become a 



mother. But her belly, once concave when she lay flat, had 



filled in, and then had begun to round outward with its 



growth, making it impossible to ignore even if she'd wanted 



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to once she'd realized what the change meant. In any case, 



since she'd learned of it, she'd had far too much time to do 



nothing but think. She'd not only begun to feel a tentative 



pleasure in the idea, she'd also begun to wonder about the 



tiny being growing inside of her and to worry that something 



would go wrong. 



    Taking her silence as an affirmation, he moved toward her, 



kneeling beside the bed where she sat. Nature has seen fit to 



intervene on our behalf. Even though our creators had no 



mercy upon us, or empathy for what they had done in 



creating us and then leaving us in limbo, neither human nor 



machine, nature has taken us the next step in evolution, 



made us beings in our own right. 



    It's something to rejoice in, not fear. I'm as certain of it 



as I have ever been of anything. 



    Dalia looked at him doubtfully. Nature has produced as 



many disasters as man. Even man no longer trusts his destiny 



entirely to the whims of nature. How safe are we to do so? 



    He studied her for several moments and finally moved to 



sit on the cot next to her, pulling her onto his lap. In the 



beginning, I had no goal in mind, no plan for a future I 



couldn't even conceive. I left only because I couldn't bear to 



be among humans and not be accepted as one, because I 



wanted the right to make my own choices, to make my own 



life. I hated them then, but I feel no animosity toward them 



now. All I want is freedom, and peace to build my own world, 



with my own people. 



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    I am ... as afraid as you are that something will go wrong, 



but it's not because I expect it will so much as it's because I 



want it so much. 



    Dalia stiffened when Reuel pulled her onto his lap, not the 



least because she wasn't ready to forgive him for ignoring her 



all day. She found, though, that there was a seductive quality 



to being held in such a way that had nothing to do with 



sexual arousal, but everything to do with feeling as if one 



belonged. Slowly, as his voice washed over her, she relaxed. 



And now? What is it that you plan to do? 



    He hesitated. Wait. 



    For the birth of the child? 



    Among other things. 



    And what then, she wondered? Would he have no further 



use for her? Would he simply discard her? Human gestation 



takes between nine and ten months, almost a year. Unless 



the rapid cell regeneration that makes us heal faster also 



effects the growth of the child, that could be ... many more 



months. You'll keep me prisoner till then? 



    Again, he hesitated. Until my heart tells me that you 



accept ... or that you will never accept. 



    What is it that you want, truly? 



    Hooking a finger under her chin, he nudged her face up 



and kissed her lightly, then scooped her from his lap, dropped 



her onto the bed, and handed her the tray of food. 



    Eat. 



    She picked up her fork and began to eat. You're not going 



to answer that, are you? 



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    He scrubbed his hands over his face. Honestly? I don't 



want to think about it. Not now. Not when things are still so 



uncertain. 



    She allowed the subject to drop, certain she could dig no 



more out of him. As before, he'd hinted that there could be 



much more for them, but he refused to be pinned down. 



    In any case, it occurred to her presently that they would 



probably go down to the pool to bathe as they had the night 



before and her appetite for food vanished. He didn't 



disappoint heron any level. 



    When she'd finished and set the tray aside, he rose and 



escorted her to the pool. Unlike the night before, however, he 



removed the manacles and, as she undressed, he stripped his 



own clothing off. Anticipation tightened in her belly as she 



moved down to the pool with her bathing supplies. 



    She quickly discovered, however, that Reuel was anything 



but predictable. She'd no sooner stepped gingerly into the 



edge of the pool than he sailed past her, landing in the middle 



of the pool so hard he created a twenty-foot blast radius of 



displaced water, drenching her abruptly from head to toe. 



Gasping from surprise, Dalia pushed the soaked hair from her 



eyes and whirled to look at him. 



    He was floating on his back, a grin of pure mischief lighting 



his eyes and his face in a way that made her heart stutter to 



a halt almost painfully in her chest. She felt an answering 



smile curl her own lips, despite her disappointment over the 



fact that he did not, apparently, intend to assault hernot 



sexually anyway. You ... asshole! she said, half laughing, 



half in irritation. I'm soaking wet! 



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    He didn't look the least put out by the insult. Instead, he 



chuckled. That's the general idea when you bathe in water. 



    Glaring at him, she slapped the water with her hand, 



sending a light spray into his face. His grin vanished as he 



mopped the water from his face, but his eyes still gleamed 



with amusement. This means war, woman, he growled, 



getting to his feet and advancing on her. 



    Dalia gaped at him for several moments before finally, with 



a shriek, she whirled to flee. He caught her around the waist, 



snatching her off her feet and spun with her in a tight circle 



that made her head swim. Her stomach went weightless. 



When he set her abruptly on her feet once more, she 



staggered dizzily and fell back against him, knocking him off 



balance. He landed on his butt, sending up another geyser of 



water, and Dalia landed on his lap. 



    She was laughing when she turned to look at him. I 



haven't done that since I.... Her amusement vanished. A 



sense of terrible loss replaced it. I've never done that, have 



I? 



    Reuel's amusement died. His gaze flickered over her face 



searchingly. Finally, he cupped her face in his hands, carefully 



smoothing the wet tendrils of hair from her cheeks. The 



memories you give our child will be realfrom now on, all of 



your memories will be yours. 



    Dalia nodded, finally, completely, understanding what he'd 



been trying to tell her for the past several weeks. He wasn't 



asking her to give up something she had for a dream that 



might never materialize. He was telling her she had never had 



it to begin with, that she couldn't lose what had never been 



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hers, but she had a great deal to gain if she was strong 



enough and determined enough to reach for it. 



    Understanding didn't make the hurt go away, however, 



and she couldn't prevent tears from filling her eyes. She felt 



as if she'd just learned of the deaths of her parents all over 



again, the same wrenching pain of loss, even though she 



knew they had never been her parents at all. The memories 



of her happy childhood with them had buoyed her spirits even 



when she missed them. Now, she didn't even have that. 



    She had what Reuel hadnothing, only a moment of 



awakening. 



    Oddly enough, that realization dulled the hurt as nothing 



else. You didn't even have the illusion. 



    He shrugged, withdrawing both physically and emotionally. 



Illusions bring no comfort. 



    She watched him as he waded to the edge of the pool and 



gathered the soap and cloths, knowing he was wrong. Her 



mind might tell her that everything Reuel said about her 



programming was true, that nothing she believed she 



remembered had been real, but her heart still believed. Her 



heart would always believe as long as it remained in her 



memory, and she would draw sustenance from it. 



    Where had he found the strength to open his heart to 



feeling? 



    If she had awakened to the world that he had, she didn't 



think she could have handled it. She would have gone mad 



as, in fact, some of them had. 



    She was sorry to see his playfulness vanish. It was a side 



of him that she would never have expected. And, as 



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handsome as he was to her at any time, he had never looked 



more handsome than when laughter lit his face. The urge to 



summon that carefree expression once more was strong, but 



she could think of nothing to do or say that might bring it to 



the surface once more. 



    Sighing, she finished her bath and climbed out to dry off. 



Reuel was so quick to follow her that she was left in no doubt 



that his trust in her was virtually nil, regardless of what had 



passed between them. 



    Up until that moment, she hadn't cared. It had 



exasperated her, but she'd accepted that it was warranted. It 



hadn't wounded her. She wasn't sure she wanted to know 



why it did now. 



    Without a word, she extended her arms for the manacles 



when they'd finished dressing. He seemed disinclined to talk, 



and she wasn't feeling particularly talkative herself. 



    She was certain she'd also lost all desire for sex, as well, 



until Reuel closed the door behind them, stripped, and 



proceeded to torment her until she was mindless with need 



and begging him to take her. 



    Apparently unconvinced that he'd thoroughly satisfied her, 



he made love to her twice more before they both dropped 



into the sleep of the truly sated and exhausted. 



    It was still dark when someone began banging on the 



door. 



    Reuel sat up abruptly. What is it? 



    They're coming. 



    Is everything ready? 



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    I think ... yes. But, Reuel, they slipped in. I don't know 



how they managed it, but they're practically on top of us and 



... there's about twice as many as we'd expected. 



    Shit! 



    Dalia sat up as Reuel leapt from the bed. What is it? 



    The company. His face was grim as he lit the lamp and 



began snatching his cloths on. 



    Oh my god! How? How could they have found us? 



    Reuel turned and looked at her grimly. 



    A cold chill went through her. I didn't! Reuel, I swear to 



you, it wasn't me! I cut my locator out and destroyed it. 



You've seen the scar! 



    His lips tightened, but he shook his head. You took one 



out. 



    She gaped at him. But ... there was only one. I 



rememb.... A terrible fear seized her. She scrambled to her 



feet. Please, Reuel. Believe me! I didn't knowingly bring 



them down on us. 



    He shook her off. It doesn't matter now. 



    Dalia swallowed with an effort. It matters to me. 



    His gaze flickered over her face. I have to go. 



    The words were scarcely out of his mouth when an 



explosion of white light lit the world outside as if it were 



daylight. Almost instantly, an ear splitting concussion followed 



and directly behind that everything around them shuddered. 



    Neutron, Dalia gasped, staring down at her hands, 



expecting them to disintegrate before her eyes. 



    When she looked up again, she saw Reuel's eyes were 



trained upon the ceiling, as if he could see through it. The 



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shield won't take many hits like that, he said grimly. 



Turning, he strode to the door. 



    Dalia stared at him, too stunned to assimilate what he'd 



just said. A shield? 



    He paused at the door and turned to look at her. 



Swallowing with an effort, he pulled the key from his pocket 



and tossed it to her. Give me your word, Dalia. If this goes 



badly, don't let them take you. Don't give yourself up. There's 



a craft hidden in a cave north of here. Take it and find a safe 



place to raise our child. 



    Dalia blinked at him uncomprehendingly. What about 



you? Come with me. We can go now. 



    He shook his head. 



    You can't fight them! You've got nothing to fight them 



with! 



    A grim smile curled his lips. You'd be surprised. 



    Dalia stamped her foot angrily. Damn it, Reuel! This is a 



hell of a time to decide to make war! Let's just go! We can 



arm ourselves, set a trap, and have the advantage! 



    He studied her a long moment and she saw relief in his 



eyes that thoroughly confused her. This is the trap, Dalia. 



    She gaped at him, but as he turned to go, she rushed after 



him. Grasping his wrist, she tugged on it until he stopped. 



When he did, she flung herself against him, holding tightly to 



him. Be careful. 



    He peeled her loose and set her away from him, but 



caught her woebegone face between his palms and dropped a 



quick kiss on her lips. I love you. 



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                           Chapter Thirteen 



    Sheer terror washed over Dalia as his words echoed 



hollowly through her mind. 



    He was going to die. He knew he was going to die or he 



would never have said that to her. Frantically, she looked 



around for the key. She'd been too stunned by everything 



that had happened within the past few moments to more than 



register the fact that he'd tossed it to her. She couldn't even 



remember catching it. 



    Had she caught it? Or had it landed on the floor, or the 



cot? Whirling, she headed back into the room. Just as she 



reached the doorway, however, two neutron bombs exploded 



overhead in quick succession. The concussion knocked her off 



her feet. Around her, the hut shuddered and began caving in. 



She covered her head, huddling in the door jam, hoping it 



was stronger than the rest of the hut had been. When the 



debris settled, she looked around her and found the quickest 



route out of the wreckage. 



    The morning sun was just cresting the horizon, throwing 



blood-red light over the compound. Above her, she saw it 



gleaming off of the domed force field that encompassed the 



entire compound. 



    She hadn't noticed it before because it hadn't been there. 



    Reuel had said this was the trap. She should have known! 



That was why everything had looked so thrown together and 



impermanent! That was why Reuel had said they would wait'. 



He hadn't been talking about the baby, not then, anyway. 



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They were waiting for the company's militia. They'd known 



they would be followed. 



    Which meant that Reuel had known she was carrying 



another locator. 



    He'd been testing her, trying to find out if she was aware 



of it, and the fact that she'd been transmitting information to 



the company from the moment he'd picked her up. 



    Fury washed through her. She felt like choking him. 



    Damn the man anyway! He'd used her ... again! 



    Angrily, she glanced around for sight of him. The huts 



they'd built were piles of debris now. What caught her 



attention, however, were the cannons emerging from 



belowground ... and the three squads of cyborgs kneeling in 



battle formation behind them. 



    As she watched, a company craft appeared on the horizon, 



heading straight for them. Her heart leapt into her throat. 



They were going to have to drop the shield to fire on it and 



whoever was manning that ship knew it. 



    As small as the neutron bombs were that were used for 



localized battle, one would turn this entire compound into a 



pile of smoldering dust. 



    They were all mad! 



    They were all going to die. 



    She braced herself, knowing she didn't have enough time 



to run. As the craft shot over the palisade wall, the cyborg 



manning the largest of the cannons opened fire. White blue 



snakes of light shot upward like long, gnarled fingers, straight 



through the field, grabbing the craft. The craft dropped like a 



rock, bounced when it struck the field and began sliding along 



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the curvature. The force field flickered and the craft dropped 



through, slamming into the ground with the sound of grinding 



metal. 



    Dalia was too stunned to move. As she watched, a squad 



of cyborgs leapt to their feet and charged the downed craft. 



Even as they reached it, a squad of rogue hunters stumbled 



out, stunned, bleeding, but struggling to form up. 



    They didn't get the chance. Before they could draw more 



than a ragged breath, the cyborgs fell upon them, beating 



any who refused to lay down their weapon into submission. 



    The discharge of the strange cannon brought Dalia's 



attention back to the cannons once more and she saw two 



more company craft shoot over the palisade and into the line 



of fire. What is that thing? she muttered. She'd thought it 



must be a neutron cannon, or perhaps a laser. Whatever it 



was, it had drained the propulsion from the craft as suddenly 



as if they'd flipped the off switch on the engine. 



    The two remaining cannons fired almost simultaneously. 



The first hit its target head on and that craft dropped, 



smashing into the force field. The second cannon missed its 



target entirely. That craft veered away, but she could see it 



was losing altitude fast. Even as the craft that had been 



struck dead on dropped through the force field and slammed 



into the ground, the third craft hit the trees beyond the 



palisade and exploded, sending shrapnel in every direction. 



    The effect was devastating. Debris shot through the 



opening before the force field could be reactivated, cutting 



down cyborg and rogue hunter alike. The distraction also cost 



them in domination of the field of battle. The squad of rogue 



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hunters who piled out of the second ship was prepared for 



battle before the second squad of cyborgs could reach them. 



The hunters who'd been subdued, began struggling to free 



themselves to join the second squad. 



    As Dalia watched, Reuel leapt from the firing pad of the 



largest cannon and charged toward the fray, the final squad 



of cyborgs on his heels. 



    Dalia never consciously made the decision to join them. 



Her gaze followed Reuel and her heart and body followed. She 



was in the thick of the fight before she even realized that she 



had charged forward to help. 



    She was also completely unarmed. 



    It dawned upon her about the same moment that Reuel 



turned and caught a glimpse of her. Immediately distracted, 



he surged toward her. Dalia stared at him disbelievingly, but 



in the next moment, movement just to one side of him caught 



her attention and her gaze moved from Reuel to the man 



beside him. The hunter caught Reuel on the side of his jaw 



with the butt of his gun. Reuel's head jerked sideways at the 



impact and his body followed, flying toward the ground. 



    No! Dalia screamed, surging forward even as the hunter 



flipped his gun, switching ends and drawing a bead on Reuel, 



who was still struggling to rise. Launching herself at the man, 



she landed in the middle of his back. He staggered, but he 



was easily as big as Reuel and barely registered her attack. 



Locking her legs around his waist before he could toss her off, 



Dalia flipped the chain of the manacle around his neck, looped 



it once and pulled it taut. He gagged, bent forward belatedly 



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to throw her over his head, and she tightened her legs around 



him. 



    He clawed at the chain, swung backwards, trying to knock 



her off. Despite her efforts to dodge him, he caught her along 



the jaw with the edge of his fist. Blackness swarmed at the 



edges of her vision, but she held on, pulling tautly at the 



chain until, finally, he dropped to his knees. When he did, she 



released her grip on his waist and kneed him in the back. 



    Someone caught her arm as the hunter fell face first onto 



the ground. She tried to shrug the hand off, gritting her teeth 



as she concentrated on choking the life out of the man. He 



caught her hair, jerking her head back. Stop it, Dalia! 



    She stared at Reuel blankly, but she didn't slacken her 



grip. 



    He caught her wrists. We want captives, not dead men! 



    The fight went out of her and she dropped her arms 



weakly. He would've killed you. 



    Shaking his head, Reuel pulled her off of the unconscious 



man and hauled her away from the battle. He'd dragged her 



all the way back to the pile of rubble that had been her prison 



cell for the past three days before the shock wore off of Dalia 



enough for her to realize that he was furious as she had never 



seen him in all the weeks she'd known him. He surveyed the 



debris for several moments before he turned to look at her. 



She almost took a step back at the look in his eyes. You 



gave me your word, he ground out. 



    Dalia blinked at him uncomprehendingly. What? 



    I asked you to give me your word that you would protect 



my child, that you would leave if things went badly. 



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    Your child? Dalia echoed, feeling dread seep into her. 



    His lips twisted. Mine. If you had cared anything about it 



at all, you would not have joined the battle, without even a 



means of protecting yourself. 



    I saved your life! Dalia exclaimed, too stunned that he 



was attacking her even to feel any indignation. 



    Something flickered in his eyes, but his anger didn't abate. 



You risked my life! You distracted me in the heat of battle. If 



you had done as I asked, if you'd done as you had given me 



your word you would, you wouldn't have been there to start 



with. 



    Have you no conception of how fragile the life is that you 



carry? Or does it simply not matter to you? 



    Dalia stared at him, feeling horror wash over her in a cold 



tide as a dozen images flickered through her mind of past 



battles she'd engaged in, the blows she'd taken, the wounds. 



Almost any one of those could have meant the death of her 



baby. 



    As badly as she wanted to dispute his hurtful remarks, she 



couldn't. He was right. She hadn't thought about the baby. 



She had acted, just as she had always acted, as if she was no 



more than a mindless machine behaving as programmed, 



without any ability to make her own judgments, her own 



decisions. 



    And not once had she thought about the tiny life inside of 



her. What kind of mother would she be if she thoughtlessly 



endangered the life of her child? 



    She should have done what he'd said she must do, or at 



least stayed as far away from the fighting, and danger, as she 



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possibly could. She hadn't given him her word. She'd been 



too worried about him even then to consider what he was 



saying, but it hardly mattered. The baby was completely and 



utterly dependent upon her now merely to sustain life. If 



she'd sustained a mortal blow, it, too, would have died. 



    He was right about the other, as well, she realized. She 



had distracted him. He'd asked her to promise she would 



protect the child and then she'd joined the battle, distracted 



him, and almost gotten him killed. 



    Guilt fell over her shoulders, crushing the air from her 



lungs. She found she couldn't sustain the look in his eyes any 



longer and dropped her gaze to her hands. He grasped her 



chin, forcing her to look at him. Is that your answer? 



Nothing? 



    What was she supposed to say? It did matter, but how 



could she argue that it did after what she'd done? Or should 



she just agree that her actions were sufficient in themselves 



to prove that, whatever else she felt about it, she was too 



used to thinking only of herself, and for herself, to consider 



the possible consequences? I can't see that there's anything 



to say, she managed finally. 



    If anything, it seemed her response only made him 



angrier. Grasping her arm, he walked her across the 



compound to the group of cyborgs that was rounding up the 



hunters. Put her with the rest of them. When you've secured 



them in the hold, look for survivors. The craft went down slow 



enough some of them might have bailed. 



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    The cyborg he'd spoken to took her arm, glancing from her 



to Reuel with a puzzled frown. You're going after the other 



craft? 



    Reuel nodded grimly. We can't afford to let them get back 



to the company. If we're not back by the time you've finished 



here, leave. We'll see you when we get back to Mordal. 



    Although Dalia nerved herself to look at him, hoping that 



his anger had abated, he didn't so much as glance at her 



before he left. She supposed she should've been relieved that 



he hadn't looked at her again considering the look in is eyes 



before. Instead, it only made the guilt weigh more heavily 



upon her. 



    After a few moments, the cyborg led her toward an 



enormous cargo ship that seemed to have appeared out of 



nowhere. Surprise briefly filtered through her misery, but it 



dimmed almost as quickly. Obviously the whole compound 



had been nothing more than a stage above the real 



compound. She'd been carefully placed far enough from 



where they were making their preparations to keep her from 



seeing what they were doing, to keep her from knowing that 



the handful of cyborgs she'd seen were only a fraction of the 



number actually here. 



    It seemed indisputable that Reuel had not only known she 



had another locator, but he'd believed she was a part of the 



company's plan to discover the rebel compound. Otherwise 



there would have been no reason to make sure she didn't 



know what the plan was. 



    She frowned at that, wondering when the company had 



decided she would be more useful in leading them to the 



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rebels than dead. She didn't believe that the attempt on her 



life had been faked, but it was possible it had. The company 



was devious if nothing else and Reuel said they had 



discovered his plant weeks before they discovered that she'd 



conceived. 



    It made sense now that she considered all the pieces. 



Whether they managed to get any information out of the 



cyborg they'd caught or not, they had to know something was 



up and that it involved her. Once they had discovered that 



she had been successfully impregnated, they'd have to know 



that that made her invaluable to the cyborgs. All they had to 



do was make her run for her life, make sure it was on all the 



open channels that they were hunting her down to kill her and 



wait for the cyborgs to pick her up and take her back to the 



colony. 



    Somewhere in the rounds, they'd taken the extra 



precaution, she supposed, of implanting another locator, one 



she had no knowledge of. Or, maybe, considering the way the 



company operated, it had been there all along? 



    They had underestimated Reuel. He'd been two steps 



ahead of them all the way, waltzing his pieces across the 



chessboard as if he were clairvoyant and knew everything 



they would do before they did it. 



    The company's determination to wipe the cyborgs out had 



given the cyborgs the opportunity to free the hunters from 



the company's control and nix any further attacks, for the 



foreseeable future anyway. 



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    Of course, she supposed complete victory hinged on Reuel 



managing to catch the last ship before they managed to get 



away. 



    The cyborg led her up the gangplank and down a long 



corridor. Once inside, she saw it was a lab. She was striped 



and ordered to lie down on a table. She did as she was told, 



without questioning it. Ignoring the tech, who moved around 



her extracting blood and checking the fetus vital signs, she 



studied the ceiling lights and finally turned to look around the 



room. She saw then that there was a row of similar tables all 



the way to the far wall, separated only by a narrow strip of 



sheeting hung from hooks on the ceiling. A hunter was 



strapped to each, some being treated for wounds, others 



merely being examined. 



    Finally, she was rolled onto her stomach and the tech 



extracted the hidden locator that had been attached to her 



spine. 



    When they'd finished, a flimsy gown was handed to her 



that tied around the neck and overlapped in the back to tie 



around her waist. Then she was escorted from the lab, along 



the corridor and down a flight of stairs. The compartment she 



found herself in was lined with cots. Hers was in one corner. 



She made her way to it and sat down, staring at nothing in 



particular, feeling curiously numb. 



    They hadn't even told her if the baby was all right. She 



was tempted to access her inboard computer to assess it, but 



it occurred to her that it really didn't have enough data to tell 



her anything more than whether or not the baby was still 



alive and growing. 



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    She decided she didn't want to know. 



    Dalia? 



    Dalia turned to look at the woman who'd called her name. 



It took several moments for recognition to set in. The name 



continued to elude her however. How are you? 



    The woman shrugged. Just bruised and banged up a bit. 



I'll live. 



    For some reason, that struck Dalia as funny. She snorted. 



    You know something I don't? 



    Dalia shrugged. I don't remember your name. 



    The woman looked surprised for a moment, then frowned. 



We trained together. Camile? 



    Dalia nodded. I remember. It's just ... actually I never 



really paid much attention to anyone's name. I figured it 



wasn't a good idea to get to know anyone, considering.... 



    Camile shrugged. I guess I can see your point. She 



frowned. I couldn't help but notice you were fighting with 



them, not against them. What'd they do, brainwash you? 



    They told me the truth. 



    Camile's brows rose. What truth? 



    That I ... that we, are the same as they are. She glanced 



around at the hunters nearest them. We're cyborgs. 



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                           Chapter Fourteen 



    Speak for yourself, you traitorous bitch! You might be 



nothing more than a stinking machine, but I'm sure as hell 



not! 



    Dalia stared at the woman across the aisle from her and 



Camile, recognizing her as one of those who'd trained with 



her. Think about it, Zenia. Do you really think the company 



would risk precious human lives to clean up their mess? And 



what human would be able to single-handedly take on a 



cyborg? 



    The woman made an abortive attempt to leap up from her 



cot, but Dalia saw she was chained to it. She wasn't 



surprised. Zenia was probably the most unstable, and most 



fierce of all the female hunters. Her problem had always been 



that she completely lost it when she went into a fight. It was 



for that reason that, despite her skills, and her determination, 



she'd been defeated by the cyborgs she'd been sent to 



eliminate more times than she'd succeeded. She'd been 



patched up and put back together by the company so many 



times that even if she'd been born human, she was more 



machine now than anything else. 



    I've taken down my share, Zenia gritted out. 



    Dalia's lips curled. Your logic circuits should have been 



replaced a long time ago. If you're too stupid to grasp that, 



then think about thisZenia. It's a flower. Camile, Dalia. Do 



you think your parents just happened to name you after a 



flower and you just happened to end up in the hunter 



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program? All of us? Every female in the hunter program bears 



the name of a flower. Doesn't that seem like just too much of 



a coincidence to be a coincidence? 



    I remember my childhood, Camile said quietly. 



    You remember what they imbedded in our programming. 



None of it happened to you. It happened to someone else, or 



it was computer generated. I don't know that much, but I do 



know it's true. Do you think I like it any better than you do? 



Do you know something I don't? If you know something that 



proves beyond a shadow of doubt that the company didn't lie 



to us, tell me. Because I'd much rather believe that I'm 



human. 



    Camile frowned, but she had paled. Like Zenia, she looked 



vaguely ill. They said you were gestating. That the cyborgs 



had found a way to simulate reproduction. 



    Dalia sighed. Drawing her knees up, she covered her face 



with her hands. We're the next generation CO479, the new 



and improved model. They decided the CO479s had gone 



rogue because of faulty programming. So we were designed 



to be more human, to believe we were human. You shouldn't 



be at all surprised to know they fucked upagain. They made 



me, us, so human that the biological engineering took 



prominence. All of the human organs and glands they 



engineered for us began functioning in a purely human way, 



or purely biological way. Reproduction is part of that cycle. 



When they failed to include the critical materials for 



reproduction, our bodies, probably because of the rapid cell 



regeneration we were given, were able to improvise and 



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evolve ... or at least mine did. I'm betting we will all find that 



we've evolved reproduction capabilities. 



    It's why the cyborgs were determined to capture all of 



you alive. We're the same, except we have a future and they 



don't. Maybe they figure they can discover what's missing 



from them so they can change it. 



    I honestly don't know what the ultimate plan is, or even if 



there is one. All I do know is that they feel like, as cyborgs, 



we belong together, and, to their way of thinking, they have 



freed us from human bondage. 



    Zenia made a sneering sound and rattled the chain 



attached to her wrist. If they'd asked me, I'd have told them 



I preferred human bondage. At least they didn't keep me in 



chains, she growled. 



    Dalia lifted her head and stared at Zenia a long moment. 



You're so very reasonable, Zenia. I'm sure they'll realize very 



quickly that you, of all of us, don't need time to adjustor 



even reprogramming. 



    Camile snickered, but tried to disguise it as a cough. 



    Zenia, naturally enough, took exception to the remark and 



began screaming profanity. Shrugging disinterestedly, Dalia 



laid down and turned her back on the woman. The snub only 



infuriated her more and she began beating the chain, trying 



to break it. After a few moments, three cyborgs marched into 



the room. One grasped her by either arm. The third injected 



her with something, and blessed peace settled over the hold. 



    There was nothing to mark the passage of time beyond the 



meals that were brought in and since Dalia didn't know the 



schedule, even that didn't help much. Two meals were 



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delivered and then five more cyborgs were brought into the 



holding cell on stretchers. 



    Dalia thought they might be survivors of the craft that had 



crashed, but none of them were in any condition to 



communicate. 



    The lights were dimmed for a while and she slept. She was 



awakened hours later by the delivery of another meal. 



Several hours later, a large group of hunters was led in. Dalia 



sat up, examining them as they passed. 



    That's Lincoln. I saw Clinton and Kennedy, too. They were 



on the Valiant4. 



    Dalia glanced over at Camile. The craft that managed to 



get away? 



    Camile grimaced. Obviously not. 



    Dalia settled back against the bunk, staring at the ceiling 



while she fought to still the frantic pounding of her heart. 



Reuel had come back. She hadn't realized how worried she'd 



been that he wouldn't until that moment, until she felt the 



terrible need to give vent to tears. She was still struggling 



with it when a stray thought abruptly popped into her mind. 



Amusement replaced the desire to cry and a chuckle escaped 



her. 



    What? 



    The presidents. They named the males after presidents. 



    Camile stared at her blankly for several moments and 



finally chuckled. She sobered almost at once. It's true, isn't 



it? What you said? 



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    Dalia sighed. If I hadn't believed it, I wouldn't have said 



it. Sometimes, I'm still not sure I do, but maybe it's because I 



don't want to, not because there's any room for doubt. 



    They'd just finished what Dalia thought was their evening 



meal when the bulkheads began to shudder and the sound of 



revving engines drowned the conversations within the hold. 



Almost as one, they looked around and then up at the ceiling, 



watching the lights above them flicker as power was diverted 



into the launch engines. The shuddering increased, became a 



hard rattle as the ship sluggishly lifted from the ground. 



    An invisible weight settled over them, pressing harder and 



harder until, abruptly, it ceased as they broke the planet's 



gravity. For a handful of seconds disorientation set in and 



then artificial gravity kicked in and the sickening sense of 



imbalance disappeared. 



    Thereafter, the days seemed to meld one into another. 



Once they'd taken off, guards came through the room and 



released those who'd been restrained, including, 



unfortunately, Zenia. They were allowed to roam the hold, but 



not beyond it, except for twice a day when they were herded 



through the particle showers. 



    After perhaps a week, they began allowing the hunters to 



leave the hold in small groups to spend part of the day in the 



recreation room, but it was strictly for the hunters. Except for 



the guards in the viewing rooms above them, they saw none 



of the cyborgs. Dalia was disappointed, but not really 



surprised. She thought it was probably just as well. She didn't 



particularly relish the thought of another encounter with 



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Reuel. She would've liked, however, to know for certain that 



he'd survived. 



    She tried not to think about the baby as the weeks passed. 



Reuel had indicated that she'd forfeited her right to have 



anything to do with it after its birth. It was almost a relief. 



Until he'd pointed out how unfit she was to mother a child, 



she'd been afraid to acknowledge her self-doubts, but the 



truth was, she hadn't been designed for such a thing and she 



was not only afraid it wasn't something she could learn, she 



was fearful of the results of any efforts on her part. She didn't 



know much about infants, but she did know that they were 



fragile and easily damaged. 



    What if she were to drop it? What if she fed it too much or 



fed it the wrong thing? What if it became ill? They couldn't 



talk, not at first, anyway. What if it needed something and 



she couldn't figure out what that was? 



    Just thinking about it scared her worse than anything had 



ever frightened her in her life. She was afraid of the birthing 



part, too, but not nearly as much. She knew how to deal with 



pain. She hadn't engaged in fifty battles over the past three 



years and she hadn't come off of all of them completely 



unscathed. 



    Apart from the fear, thinking about the baby made her feel 



indescribably sad. It seemed grossly unfair that nature had 



seen fit to give her the ability to reproduce and not given her 



any of the instincts or knowledge for mothering it. She had 



only to reference other living organisms in nature, however, 



to know that that wasn't altogether uncommon even in other 



creatures. Reptiles didn't nurture their young. There were 



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even some species of mammals and birds that had little or no 



nurturing instincts, and, as often as not, failed to rear their 



offspring to maturity. 



    Shuddering at the thought, she realized that the best tact 



was to simply ignore it as much as she could. 



    That became more and more difficult as the weeks passed, 



however. The gestation didn't follow the rules of human 



gestation. The fetus was developing at an accelerated rate. 



Her in board computer calculated maturity in little more than 



twenty weeks at its current rate and possibly less. 



    Not only was her belly ballooning almost before her eyes, 



but the odd little flutters she'd first felt quickly became 



uncomfortable punches in some very sensitive internal areas. 



By the time they'd been in the hold by her best guess, a 



month, the activity beneath her shift was sufficient to draw all 



eyes as she passed, even if they were polite enough to ignore 



the growing bulge. 



    Boredom, sadness and worry weren't her only companions, 



unfortunately. Zenia had focused all of her fear of her 



situation, and all of her grief over her loss of humanity into a 



fixated hatred of Dalia. After the incident when the guards 



had sedated her, she'd made it a point to keep her distance, 



but she stared at Dalia with hatred in her eyes, leaving her in 



no doubt that, sooner or later, Zenia would strike. 



    At any other time, she would almost have relished a 



physical confrontation, if only to relieve her boredom, but 



she'd learned her lesson. Danger for her meant danger for the 



fetus and she couldn't risk it. Beyond that, she shuddered to 



think what Reuel would do to her if she were to find herself in 



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the middle of another battle, whether it was of her making or 



not. At any rate, it was impossible to ignore the fact that the 



bigger the infant grew, the slower, clumsier and more 



vulnerable she became. If she were not burdened by the 



infant, she knew she could best Zenia in any contest of skills. 



In her current condition, she couldn't. 



    Camile was friendly enough, but Dalia doubted it would 



occur to her to help if Zenia crossed the line and attacked. 



The same was true of most of the others. They were trained 



warriors. They might watch two warriors battle it out with 



interest, but it certainly wouldn't occur to them to feel any 



need to intervene. 



    There was also the insurmountable fact that, on varying 



levels, she wasn't particularly popular, even among the 



hunters. Some of the resentment predated her involvement in 



the affairs of the cyborgs, to her hunting days, and was 



directly proportional to her success as a hunterprofessional 



jealousy. Zenia wasn't by any means the only one who'd 



viewed her helping the cyborgs as treachery, either, and then 



there were those who resented her merely for being the 



bearer of bad tidings. 



    All in all, it was only the fact that they were constantly 



watched, and knew it, that had kept any number of them 



from working out their fears and frustrations on her. 



    Pierce was the exception. They'd been in the hold almost 



three weeks before she even realized that he was among 



those captured. He hadn't approached her, but when she'd 



finally emerged from her abstraction enough to notice, she 



realized that he had been watching her for some time. 



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    They'd come as close to being friends in their early days of 



training as anyone ever did, and even for a while after they'd 



emerged from training and begun assignments. The company 



didn't encourage friendships. And their training and the 



demands of the job made it nearly impossible anyway. She'd 



scarcely seen him in the past two years and usually only then 



in passing. 



    She knew, however, that Pierce felt more than friendship 



toward her. If anyone would be willing to help her, he would. 



    The thoughts had barely formed in her mind before doubts 



crept in. She might never have considered him in a sexual 



light, but she liked Pierce, very much, and it wasn't right to 



use him, even knowing it might be a matter of survival. There 



was also the little matter of Reuel. It seemed unlikely he 



would care. It seemed unlikely, now, that anything would 



come of what had happened between them before, but she 



still felt bound to him, felt like it would be betraying him to 



even consider becoming friendly with another man. 



    She wrestled with it for almost two weeks, but in the end 



she knew she had no choice. The trip seemed interminable. 



The ship had been designed for long hauls of huge cargoes, 



not speed, and there was no telling how long they would be 



imprisoned together in the hold. 



    Finally, nerving herself, she approached Pierce in the rec 



room. Almost from the moment she started in his direction, 



his gaze fell to her bulging abdomen and remained fixed there 



until she felt so awkward and hideous it took all she could do 



to refrain from whirling and bolting in the other direction. 



Hi, she said, smiling with an effort. 



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    Pierce turned red and stumbled from his seat, knocking his 



chair over in the process. Dalia! It is you, he said, and then 



turned even redder. What I meant was, I hardly recogniz.... 



No. What I meant was ... shit! 



    Agonizingly aware that a half a dozen people were 



watching them, Dalia smiled with an effort. I hope that 



means you're glad to see me. 



    He laughed, dragged a hand through his shaggy blond hair 



and finally swarmed toward her and grabbed her in an 



awkward embrace, rocking her slightly. I am glad to see you, 



Dally. God I've missed you! 



    Step away from the female! 



    Pierce released her as if he'd just discovered he was 



holding a hot piece of metal and jumped back. He glared up 



at the observation window. 



    Dalia placed a hand on his arm warningly. Never mind. 



    He looked at her, still frowning, but finally a grin dawned. 



He was taller than she remembered, blonder. She realized 



she'd forgotten how handsome he was, or, more accurately, 



she supposed she'd never really noticed. She had noticed that 



one out of every two females that glanced his way did a 



double take, or simply stopped dead in her tracks and gaped 



at him as he walked by, but he'd never had that effect on her, 



never made her heart flutter with excitement. It was 



unfortunate, because he was as kind as he was handsome 



and he always made her laugh. 



    He'd always reminded her of a frisky puppya very large 



frisky puppyalways anxious to please, delighted with the 



smallest scrap of attention. 



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    She immediately felt ten times worse than she had when 



she'd considered renewing their friendship merely for safety's 



sake. As he grabbed her arm and led her to an empty couch, 



however, she realized that it wasn't only for that reason. Until 



Reuel, she'd never been close to any other person, but, in the 



time they'd spent together, she'd grown accustomed to 



having someone to talk to, to touch and she desperately 



missed contact with another breathing being. 



    Pierce, she noticed, was beaming at her, watching her 



expectantly. His gaze kept flicking toward her belly, however. 



Soit's true what they said about you then? Man! I can't 



believe my little Dally's going to be a mom! 



    Dalia blushed uncomfortably. I suppose by they you 



mean the company? 



    He shrugged. Bunch of assholes. I won't miss it. I can tell 



you that. I never did have the stomach for ... well, hell, I 



never was any good at it anyway. 



    That's not true! If you hadn't been, you would've been cut 



from the program. 



    Again, he shrugged dismissively. Oh, I never had any 



problem learning the skills. I can't say I even mind a rousing 



good fight from time to time, but I puked my guts out every 



time I had to kill. 



    Dalia looked at him in surprise. You too? 



    He laughed, but the sound had no humor in it. I kept 



trying to convince myself they were just machines and it 



wasn't any different from busting up a ... freezing unit or 



something like that, but it was ... the blood, the look in their 



eyes. 



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    Throwing a glance in the direction of the viewing windows 



again, he leaned toward her. Can I feel it? 



    Dalia looked at him blankly. Feel what? 



    The little tyke. 



    The what? 



    He gave her an exasperated look. The baby, Dally. 



    Dalia studied at him self-consciously, but finally nodded. 



Pierce placed his hand on her rounded stomach and frowned 



in concentration. After a moment, he grinned. It's an active 



little thing. My mom told me.... Uh. He broke off, looking at 



her uncomfortably. Forgot. 



    Dalia hated seeing the glow of happiness in his eyes dim. 



Never mind, Pierce. What did she tell you? 



    He looked at her a little hopefully. Boys are more active. 



She was ... she was really old fashioned. She had all of us 



herself. She said it wasn't natural to breed babies in tanks, 



like they were goldfish or something. 



    He looked so unhappy; she cast around in her mind for 



something to distract him. Unfortunately, nothing came to 



mind. You like babies? 



    He smiled. Sure. They're cute as hell. I had.... He broke 



off again and leaned back against the couch, staring up at the 



ceiling. This really confuses the hell out of me, Dally. I don't 



know now what happened and what didn't. I was beginning to 



think that me and you being friends was only more of the 



memory implant. You didn't seem to recognize me. I can't tell 



you what pure hell it was to think I'd lost ... my best little 



buddy. 



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    Guilt swamped her. He didn't have to tell her what he was 



thinking and feeling. His face was as open and honest as 



Reuel's was dark and mysterious. I'm so sorry! I didn't mean 



to ignore you, it's just ... I've been so unhappy since we were 



put in here that I was too self-absorbed even to realize you 



were here. 



    He rolled his head along the back of the couch and studied 



her for several moments. Finally, he sat forward, grasping her 



hand. Hey! You shouldn't be unhappy. You're going to be a 



mom! 



    As much as she appreciated his efforts to cheer her, 



pointing out the one thing that was making her most unhappy 



didn't help. Regardless, it was sweet of him and, impulsively, 



Dalia leaned toward him and kissed him on the cheek. 



    Release the female! 



    Dalia whirled at the voice that barked at them over the 



speakers, looking up toward the viewing window. Reuel was 



standing at the window, looking directly at her, his expression 



almost a mirror of the last she'd seenone of pure fury. 



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                            Chapter Fifteen 



    Fear and guilt hit Dalia a good five seconds before outrage. 



She jerked away from Pierce before the thoughts even 



connected in her mind. Pierce reacted almost identically, 



which only added to Dalia's irritation when indignation finally 



hit her. Dalia jumped to her feet and turned to glare up at 



Reuel, her hands on her hips. What? Is fucking not allowed 



among the prisoners? 



    Dalia knew the moment the words were out of her mouth 



that she'd been spoiling for a fight and hoping to provoke 



one. She also knew, just from the look on Reuel's face, that it 



would've been wiser to chose another point of contention. 



    Most of the hunters in the room merely gaped at her, but 



several of them snickered. 



    Reuel looked like he might explode. 



    Pierce, she saw when she glanced at him, was staring at 



her with his mouth at half cock. Majia's balls, Dalia! You 



want to get us thrown into solitary confinement or 



something? 



    Wait a minute, the hunter, Kennedy, said, getting to his 



feet. She's got a point. If we're not company men anymore, 



if we're free men, then we ought to be able to socialize with 



our fellow hunters if we want to, any way we want to. 



    We haven't been told anything, Rose put in, standing up 



and addressing the cyborgs in the viewing room above them, 



as well. Dalia said we were to be part of the cyborg 



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community. Why are we still being held prisoner if that's the 



case? 



    Dalia glanced at Rose and then around at the others in the 



room uneasily. She hadn't intended to start a riot, but it 



looked as if one was brewing. Because we've given them no 



reason to believe they can trust us, and every reason to 



believe we still see them as our enemies. 



    The comment drew the attention of everyone near enough 



to hear. Rose looked at her curiously and finally spoke again. 



Why are you here? With us, I mean? The company said 



you'd gone rogue. You fought with them, against us. It seems 



to me that that means they'll never trust us, or accept us. 



And, if that's the case, why take us at all? 



    Dalia shook her head and lowered her voice. It wasn't like 



you thought it was. 



    Rose glanced up at the viewing room and moved closer. 



Then what was it? Why did you try to kill Jackson? 



    I wasn't fighting for them, or against you. I was trying to 



help someone I cared for. It was against orders and they've 



no tolerance for mistakes, and no forgiveness. 



    Rose glanced toward the guards again uneasily. If that's 



true, they're no better than the company. 



    Dalia shrugged. And no worse. 



    She means, they won't accept us, no matter what, 



Kennedy said. 



    Dalia glanced around at the others a little helplessly. Trust 



takes time. They're willing to try or they would've simply 



killed you all and been done with it. They could've done it, 



easily. You saw the weapon they've developed. All they 



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would've had to do was drain the ships of power and let them 



hit the cliffs. If you're willing to try, then eventually, you'll 



find a place for yourself. 



    What if we're not willing? What if we don't want to build a 



cyborg nation? Is this freeing us going to still be an option? 



Or are we only free men as long as we believe what they 



believe? 



    Dalia glanced toward the man who'd spoken. I don't 



honestly know. They never said, but I got the impression that 



they meant to release anyone who didn't fit in to go their own 



way. 



    As far as the company is concerned, we're rogues now, 



not hunters. It looks to me like we can stay with the rogues 



or be hunted. That doesn't give us much freedom of choice. 



    Dalia drew in an annoyed breath. That's the only freedom 



of choice anybody's ever had, she snapped. And it's more 



that you had. I don't know about the rest of you, but I was 



inducted. I didn't decide to be a hunter. I made the best of it 



because I didn't particularly care for the consequences of 



failure, but it was never my choice! 



    Feeling a hand along her waist, Dalia glanced back sharply, 



and saw with relief that Pierce had come to stand protectively 



behind her. Give her a break! She doesn't know any more 



than we do. 



    She was relieved when the others drifted off, returning to 



their own interests. She didn't glance up at the booth again, 



but Pierce's hand on her waist began to feel like a firebrand. 



After a moment, she moved away from him. Taking a seat on 



the couch once more, she turned, putting her back against 



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the arm at one end and placing her knee on the seat between 



them. Pierce glanced at her, shrugged, and moved to the 



opposite end. 



    She couldn't help but grin at him. He grinned back. 



Somebody up there's feeling damned possessive, Dally, he 



murmured almost lazily, though something flickered in the 



depths of his deep blue eyes that told her he didn't feel nearly 



as unperturbed by it as he was determined to pretend. 



    She frowned, but instead of addressing the comment, said, 



I never told you, I know, but I never particularly cared for 



being called Dally. 



    He grinned mischievously at her and chuckled. I know. 



    She stared at him in surprise, then started laughing. I'd 



forgotten you were such a tease. 



    His brows rose, something a bit warmer than friendship 



gleaming in them. Now I'm hurt. When I think of all the 



hours I wasted thinking up things to do to aggravate the hell 



out of you! 



    Pierce! she clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing 



she'd practically shrieked his name. That was you that put 



peroxide in my toothpaste! You ass! I thought I'd been 



poisoned when I started foaming at the mouth. 



    He gave her a sheepish grin. OK, so I fucked up. I put too 



much in it. That's why I never told you it was me. 



    She glared at him several moments and then snickered. I 



knew it was you. That's why I put alum in yours. 



    He burst out laughing. I hope you know I beat the pure 



hell out of poor Grant for that. 



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    Dalia grimaced. I know. That's why I never told you it was 



me. 



    He shrugged, his eyes still gleaming with amusement. He 



deserved it anyway, the asshole. I never did like that son-of- 



a-bitch. 



    She cast her mind back to their days together in training, 



the incident under discussion in particular, and chuckled and 



the memory. You looked so cute with your mouth all 



puckered up from the alum. 



    Right! That's why I got slapped by three different females 



before I could get out of the shower room. They thought I 



was making lewd faces at them. 



    Oh! Dalia commented, covering her mouth with her 



hands and trying to look suitably repentant. She failed. 



Despite her best efforts, she burst out laughing and kept 



laughing until tears were streaming down her face. Oh, I'm 



so sorry, Pierce, she said when she could catch her breath. 



    No you're not, he said without rancor. You'd have 



laughed yourself silly about it then, if you'd known it, you 



heartless baggage. 



    Dalia mopped the tears from her cheeks, stifling the urge 



to laugh with an effort. I am. 



    His eyes gleamed. A slow smile curled his lips. Paybacks 



are hell, you know. 



    You wouldn't! Dalia said, managing to give him a wide- 



eyed look of remorse. 



    You needn't bat those beautiful brown eyes at me. You 



know I've always been a sucker for you, baby, but nothing 



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will save you now. Those females still glare at me every time 



they see me. 



    Well! she said indignantly. You got me first, remember? 



    He laughed. Yes, but you got me better. 



    She bit her lip to keep from smiling back. Are they here? 



    He rolled his eyes. Yeah, they're here. 



    You're serious? You're not making it up? 



    Which part? 



    The slap. 



    His eyes gleamed and she knew he'd been teasing her. 



Maybe I exaggerated a little bit. 



    How little? Dalia asked suspiciously. 



    He sighed. All right. I only got slapped once, but I did get 



glared at. The main thing is, it made you laugh. I always 



loved the way you laughed, Dally. 



    Dalia's heart skidded uncomfortably at the look in his eyes. 



Despite the teasing way he'd said it, she realized suddenly 



that he meant it. He'd always meant it, all the times he'd 



looked at her in just that way and said I love your eyes'; I 



love your hair'; You're beautiful'he'd been saying I love 



you'. 



    It was disconcerting the transformation that seemed to 



occurred right before her eyes. He looked the sameblond, 



gorgeous, playful and addicted to teasing and annoying 



pranks, but quite suddenly she ceased to feel almost as if he 



were her brother and saw him as a very desirable man. 



    Why was it that everyone else had seen what she'd been 



blind to? The programming? Or had she just been too close? 



Had distance and time and the situation changed the way she 



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felt? Or was it because Reuel had opened the door to passion 



and then deprived her of it? And, if that was so, was it mere 



animal attraction? Or more? 



    She looked away from him uncomfortably. Is she here? 



    The psycho woman? Yeah, she's here. Still looks at me 



like she wants to boil me in oil or something. 



    Dalia was instantly distracted from her uncomfortable new 



awareness of Pierce. Zenia? 



    How'd you guess? 



    She sighed shakily. She looks at me the same way. 



    Pierce sat up, all traces of humor gone. What'd you do to 



piss her off? 



    Dalia shrugged. Breathe, I think. 



    Pierce looked her over searchingly. You're not worried 



about her, are you? Because I know you can kick her ass any 



day of the week. 



    I could. I can't now. 



    His gaze dropped to her belly and remained there for 



several moments. Finally, he reached across the couch and 



caught her hand, giving it a squeeze before he released it and 



sat back. Don't worry about it, Dally. I'm your man. 



    Relief seemed to roll off of her like a boulder. Thanks! 



    He grinned. If she so much as looks at you in a way I 



don't likeI'll grab you up and run like hell. 



    Dalia chuckled. Good. I don't think I could outrun her by 



myself right now. 



    He waggled his eyebrows at her. And, by the way, since 



you brought it up, if you think you might be interested in 



fucking, I'm your man there, too. 



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    Dalia chuckled dutifully, but despite the fact that he'd said 



it jokingly, she realized joking had always been a smoke 



screen for Pierce to hide his behind. He was making it clear 



that he wanted to be considered if she intended to look for a 



lover. 



    When they returned to the holding cell, Pierce walked to 



the opposite end, collected his belongings and returned, 



depositing them on the floor beside her cot. She looked at 



him in surprise. Not enough cots. I guess there was more of 



us than they were expecting, but I figure the floor's as 



comfortable at this end as the other. 



    For the first time since they'd been confined, Dalia actually 



managed to sleep deeply. The following morning when she 



woke, she discovered that Zenia's cot was empty. 



    She sat up and glanced around in surprise. 



    The guards took her last night, Camile volunteered. 



    Dalia felt her jaw go slack. They just took her? 



    Camile shrugged. They were in and out so fast, I wouldn't 



have seen it except that I've been sleeping with one eye on 



her. What do you think it means? 



    It means we don't have to worry about the psycho bitch 



anymore, Pierce said, yawning hugely and scratching his 



head as he sat up. And everything we say is heard. 



    Dalia looked at him sharply. You think so? she asked 



quickly, mentally reviewing their conversation the day before. 



    Pierce shrugged. Like you said, they've got no reason to 



trust us, and every reason not to. I know if I had nearly a 



hundred prisoners I was transporting, I'd want to keep up 



with what was going on. 



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    What do you think they'll do with her? Camile asked 



nervously. 



    Pierce sent her a look. You're not going to pretend you 



care? 



    She glared at him. She's not a ... rabid animal that can 



just be put down. 



    She doesn't miss it by much, Pierce said dryly. Look, I 



know what you're saying, but the company would've fixed the 



problem if it was fixable. You've been around her long enough 



to know she's dangerously unstable. 



    Yes, butshe's a humanshe's a being. If they do 



something to her, what's to stop them from doing the same 



to the rest of us? 



    We're not psychotic? 



    Camile threw her pillow at his head. 



    If it was me, I'd ship her back to the company. They 



deserve her. She's their problem. 



    Dalia said nothing, but she felt uneasy about it, wondering 



if it was something she'd said. She didn't like to think she 



might be responsible if they did decide to terminate Zenia. 



    She watched the guards as they brought in the morning 



meal, but none of them seemed to pay her any more 



attention than any of the others. After they'd gone through 



the particle baths, however, the guards rounded up nearly 



half the men, including Pierce, and marched them out. 



    The place was strangely quiet without them even though 



no one had been inclined to talk much since they'd been 



imprisoned. When the noon meal came and went without any 



sign of them, Dalia wasn't alone in her increasing anxiety. 



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Finally, late in the day, the men returned. All of them were 



tired and filthy, but Dalia was so glad to see that Pierce was 



among them she it took an effort to keep from bursting into 



tears and throwing her arms around him. The only reason she 



restrained herself was her certainty that Pierce was right. 



They were being monitored. 



    You're all right? she asked anxiously when he dropped 



down beside her bunk. 



    He nodded, then threw her a tired grin. They had us 



cleaning out a new section all day. Looks like they mean to 



take care of the overcrowding problem. 



    Camile and Dalia exchanged a look. You think so? 



    I hope they didn't have us lugging all that stuff around for 



nothing. 



    He seemed so certain, that Dalia felt her anxiety diminish. 



    None of them were greatly surprised, therefore, when 



they'd finished the evening meal and been herded through 



the particle baths once more to discover that some of them 



would be moving to new quarters. They were surprised when 



they learned it would only be the females. 



    Pierce, Dalia realized feeling a surge of anger, had been 



right. Everything they'd said the day before had been heard, 



and everything they'd done observed. Reuel didn't want her, 



but he wasn't about to let her be with anyone else. 



    Pierce was angry, as well, but not so much because he 



would be deprived of Dalia's company as he was because the 



move prevented him from watching over her. He could 



complain, of course, but he doubted it would do any good. 



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Instead, after studying Camile speculatively for some 



moments, he pulled her aside. I need to ask a favor of you. 



    Camile looked him over suspiciously. What? 



    Look out for my little Dally for me. Ordinarily, I wouldn't 



worry about her, but she can't defend herself right now. I'm a 



dead man if anything happens to her because I'm going to 



have to kill somebody, but I'd much rather prevent it. 



    Camile nodded, but then shrugged. I would have 



anyway, she said, smiling faintly. 



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                            Chapter Sixteen 



    After nearly three months, Dalia woke to the sensations 



that told her the cargo ship had arrived at last at its 



destination. At first, she thought the scarcely noticeable 



vibration was no more than the shudder of an engine, or the 



hull of the ship being pelted by micro meteors. The vibration 



increased steadily, however, quickly becoming a hard rattling 



that was impossible to interpret as anything but a descent 



into a gravitational field. 



    Sitting up, she looked around at the vibrating walls of the 



bulkheads and then at the faces of the other women who 



shared the compartment with her. Their fears and uncertainty 



reflected her own. 



    They'd arrived. Would they be freed? Or would they find 



that they were only exchanging one prison for another? 



    Do you think they'll let us out? Camile asked, voicing her 



own question. 



    Some, at leastI think, Dalia responded cautiously. 



    As they had when she'd first been captured, the cyborgs 



had begun to allow them the run of the ship in small numbers 



and for short periods after they'd been kept isolated for more 



than a month. 



    It was as effective a strategy on most of the hunters as it 



had been on her. The natural fear of the unknown, coupled 



with incarceration, had made them cautious of their freedom, 



and careful not to abuse it. They were openly watched, of 



course, and certain areas were still off limits, but being 



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allowed even so much after so long was enough to make 



them grateful. The cyborgs were neither welcoming nor 



hostile, but that, too, seemed almost calculating, as if they 



knew the hunters would be suspicious of any overtures of 



friendship. 



    Little by little, they had begun to relax their guard, to feel 



less like prisoners and more like mutual travelers. She'd 



noticed that some had even begun to form tentative 



friendships among the cyborgs. There was no reason that she 



could see that the cyborgs would consider it necessary to 



continue to imprison them. 



    Even if they'd wanted to leave, none of them had any idea 



of where they'd been taken. They had no way to leave short 



of stealing the ship they'd just spent the past three months 



on, and she rather thought most of the hunters would prefer 



almost anything to spending three more months on it. 



    The truth was that Dalia was almost certain that most of 



the hunters would find themselves absorbed into the cyborg 



community immediately. There were others, however, who 



wouldn't, some who might never be accepted and that was 



the part that worried her. What would happen to those who 



wanted nothing to do with the cyborgs? Would they simply 



disappear'? Or would the cyborgs, as Reuel had hinted, 



simply take them elsewhere and leave them? 



    She couldn't help but wonder if she fell into the latter 



categorynot because the cyborgs in general didn't accept 



her, because they seemed far more welcoming toward her 



than any of the other hunters, but because Reuel, in 



particular, didn't accept her. 



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    Reuel had been most conspicuous by his absence. She 



didn't think it was purely coincidence that he was rarely to be 



seen when she was allowed the freedom of the ship. She 



thought he was aware of everything that happened on the 



ship, including the schedules and that he made certain he was 



occupied elsewhere when she was allowed out. 



    She wasn't certain why. It hardly seemed necessary. He'd 



made his position clear enough the last time he'd spoken to 



her. It might still hurt. She might still care, but she certainly 



had no intention of making either of them uncomfortable by 



forcing any sort of confrontation. 



    Of course, she supposed, after the incident in the rec 



room, he might have reason to think a chance meeting could 



get ugly. 



    She might have been tempted except that that incident 



had cost her Pierce's company and she didn't particularly 



relish the thought of giving Reuel any reason for further 



retaliation. She missed Pierce almost as desperately as she 



missed Reuel. Having someone for companionship would have 



made the trip less unbearable. It would have left her less time 



to dwell on unpleasant memories, to worry about things 



beyond her control. She'd caught no more than a glimpse of 



Pierce from time to time after they were separated, and she 



knew that that was Reuel's doing, most likely because she'd 



very nearly created a serious disturbance by her outburst. 



    As the vibration of descent became a hard rattle and then 



a gentle bumping and finally a horrendous bucking that 



threatened whiplash, Dalia clung to her cot and mentally 



clocked their descent through the atmosphere. As many times 



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as she had made descents, each and every one terrified her 



as much as the one before. The bucking was a very graphic 



expression of having reached the absolute peak of danger. 



From the time the ship began until at last the bucking slowed 



to the occasional jolt or sudden, weightless drop, she could 



never manage to do anything but listen intently to every 



rattling bolt, waiting to see if something would break off and 



send them spiraling planet-ward at a speed that insured that 



their grave marker would be a crater. 



    Sighing in relief when they at last passed through the 



critical zone, Dalia consciously peeled her fingers loose from 



the bars of the cot and sat up once more. She was almost 



immediately sorry she had, for the artificial gravity was 



disengaged at that moment and a wave of nausea rushed 



over her. She lay back again, closing her eyes and waiting for 



the planet's gravity to right her internal gyro. 



    She could feel the ship dropping steadily and wondered if 



they'd entered the atmosphere close to their destination or if 



they might expect hours more of cruising before they landed 



at last. Concentrating on that instead of the sickness, she 



almost felt as if she could count the miles they dropped, see 



the land rushing up toward them. 



    The gravity was noticeably different. 



    It was a smaller world than Earth then, almost certainly, 



but not much. Or, perhaps, the planet spun more slowly? Or 



the sun that warmed it was more distant? 



    When the whine of decelerating engines filled her ears, she 



opened her eyes. Around her, she saw the other women 



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perched on the edges of their cots, staring hopefully at the 



door to their compartment. 



    They were excited, but afraid to show it. She felt the 



same. 



    She hoped they weren't all going to be disappointed. 



    A sudden jolt announced their arrival. As abruptly as it had 



begun, the noise of deceleration ceased. The silence was 



nearly deafening. 



    Too nervous to stay still any longer, Dalia struggled off of 



her cot and began pacing the compartment, listening to the 



sounds of doors banging open and closed around the ship. 



Finally, she heard the tramp of approaching footsteps and the 



door to the compartment swung open. Everyone simply 



stared at the cyborg standing in the entrance, wanting 



desperately to stampede the door and afraid if they did he'd 



slam it shut again. 



    He motioned for them to follow him. Exchanging glances, 



they surged to their feet almost as one and moved quickly 



toward the door. Dalia, the only one already on her feet, was 



the last to reach it. When she stepped into the corridor, she 



saw it was crowded as the men disgorged from the 



compartment before theirs into the corridor. In front of her, 



she caught a glimpse of Pierce's blond hair as he stepped 



through the door to the men's compartment. 



    He glanced in her direction, surveyed the females passing 



closest and finally plastered himself against the bulkhead, 



allowing everyone to surge around him as he searched for 



her. Relief and pleasure washed through her. In the next 



moment, however, she caught a glimpse of Reuel, standing 



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by the gangway. Unnerved, she ducked her head down as he 



glanced over the heads of those shuffling toward the door. A 



sense of panic rushed through her. 



    She wondered if he was looking for her, and if so, why? 



    It occurred to her that he might not be, that he might 



merely be watching to make certain everyone disembarked in 



an orderly fashion, but it didn't matter. Even if he wasn't 



looking for her in particular, she would have to pass by him 



unless he disembarked before she made her way to the door. 



    When she reached Pierce, she met his easy grin with a 



look of panic. I think Reuel may be looking for me, she 



whispered. 



    Pierce frowned, glancing quickly around the crowded 



corridor. Nodding finally, he grasped her hand and allowed 



her to trail slightly behind and to one side of him. Relieved 



when she saw that Pierce almost completely blocked her view 



of everyone around them and assuming the same was true 



from Reuel's viewpoint, Dalia did her best not to attract 



attention by appearing conspicuous. 



    She'd almost made it through the door and onto the 



gangplank, when a hand clamped onto her tunic, pulling her 



to a stop. She glanced around, knowing even before she saw 



him that it was Reuel. He glanced from her startled face to 



Pierce's, his expression hardening. We have ... matters to 



settle between us, he said. 



    It was apparent she wasn't going to be able to avoid the 



confrontation she'd been dreading. Finally, she nodded and 



tugged at her hand until Pierce reluctantly released her. I'll 



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meet you later, she said to Pierce, smiling up at him to allow 



him to know she was all right with staying. 



    He searched her gaze and finally lifted his head and looked 



directly at Reuel. I'll wait. 



    You won't, Reuel said grimly. 



    Dalia glanced from one man to the other nervously. It's 



all right, Pierce. Really. I need to talk to him about ... about 



his baby. 



    The comment brought two piercing gazes upon her. She 



glanced from one man to the other, feeling a sinking 



sensation in her stomach when she saw that both were 



incensed. Finally, Pierce nodded and strode down the 



gangplank. Dalia followed his angry departure with her gaze, 



glancing blindly at the scene of chaos below as the 



passengers and crew of the ship collided with the cyborgs that 



had come to welcome the ship, and finally, reluctantly, turned 



to Reuel. 



    Who is he? Reuel demanded tightly. 



    Dalia tilted her head to one side, studying him. A dear 



friend, she finally said. 



    Something flickered in his eyes. He lifted his head, 



watching Pierce until he disappeared into the crowd below. 



    Dalia didn't really like the look on his face, or the way he 



watched Pierce. A shiver skated along her spine. What do 



you mean to do with me? 



    As she'd hoped, the question brought his attention back to 



her. He considered her for several moments, glanced around 



the corridor and gangplank as if he was looking for something 



and finally caught her upper arm and led her down the 



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corridor in the opposite direction from which she'd come. 



Finally, he stopped before a door and pushed it open, 



indicating that she should enter. 



    She glanced inside, saw that it must be his cabin and 



looked at him uncomfortably. I'm fine standing. 



    His lips tightened. I'm not. 



    She debated for a moment and finally stepped inside. 



When he'd followed her, he closed the door. She moved 



across the room to a chair, but instead of sitting, she turned 



to face him. She saw that he'd propped a hip on the top of his 



desk and was watching her. His gaze flickered over the 



rounded mound of her belly and finally returned to her face. 



    Thirty to forty days, she said. 



    His brows rose questioningly. 



    You were wondering about the ... your infant. 



    He looked at her piercingly. Ours. 



    Confused, Dalia tilted her head curiously. I don't ... oh! 



She shrugged. I prefer not to think of it that way. 



    Something flickered in his eyes that made her heart jolt 



uncomfortably in her chest, but he looked away and she 



wondered if she had misinterpreted it. 



    Why? 



    She let out a shaky breath and stared down at the mound 



that prevented her from looking at her feet. I don't really 



want to talk about it. 



    He scrubbed his hand over his face tiredly. Why didn't you 



come to me and tell me about the problem with the female, 



Zenia? 



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    Dalia glanced up at him in surprise. I didn't think about it. 



I didn't know how even if I had. 



    He made a sound of frustration and got up from the desk 



abruptly. Damn it, Dalia! You could have spoken to the 



guards. Don't you know I would've done something sooner if 



I'd known? 



    She shrugged. No, I didn't, but it doesn't matter now, 



does it? 



    It matters. 



    She sighed. I didn't think about it at first. I had no idea it 



would take so long to get here, or that the infant would grow 



so fast, or that Zenia would only become more hostile with 



time instead of less. After a while, I realized she was only 



awaiting an opportunity to strike. I didn't know what you 



might do to me if I was embroiled in a fight and the infant 



was hurt. After a while, I realized I couldn't defend myself 



anyway. I'd gotten too slow, too clumsy and too weak. She 



shook her head. I didn't think any of the others would help 



me, because they would expect me to be able to defend 



myself, but then I remembered Pierce from the academy and 



I knew he would take care of me. 



    The blond one. 



    She looked at him. It wasn't really a question and in any 



case he knew very well who Pierce was. What did you do 



with Zenia? 



    He shrugged. She is being treated. It seems doubtful that 



her mind can be repaired, but there is nothing we can do but 



try. 



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    Dalia nodded. She was relieved, not because she 



particularly cared about Zenia herself, but because she was 



glad to know that she hadn't misjudged the cyborgs. They 



might not be human, but they were capable of humane 



treatment. What will you do with me when this is finished? 



she asked, gesturing toward her abdomen. 



    He said nothing for several moments and finally Dalia 



glanced up at him. The pain she'd thought she glimpsed 



before was evident now and he made no attempt to hide it. 



Do you hate me so much? 



    Dalia was startled. I don't hate you at all. 



    He searched her face and some of the anguish left his 



expression. I'm ... as defective in my own way as Zenia, he 



said at last. I made mistakes and because I was angry, I 



made more mistakes, until I didn't know how to make it stop. 



    Then, when I saw you with ... him, I knew it was too late 



and I'd completely screwed everything up. 



    Dismay filled her. Don't. She smiled wryly. We're all 



defective, I guess. I've made so many mistakes, but I'm 



learning. I think, I hope, next time, if there is a next time, I'll 



do better. But I don't hate you because I know you were 



right. I thought about it a lot. I know what I did was 



unforgivable. I can't even forgive myself. I wouldn't expect 



you to. And it was more than that. I was programmed to 



fight, to kill, not to nurture. I don't think I can. Maybe, in 



time, I'll change. 



    He swallowed with an obvious effort. I didn't mean the 



things I said to you. 



    She nodded. It's all right. I'm over it now. 



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    Are you? 



    She chewed her lip. Mostly. 



    Mostly? he said pensively, taking a step toward her. Not 



completely? 



    Dalia eyed him nervously and glanced toward the door. 



She could see that he'd locked it. She held up her hand. 



Don't. Let's just leave it at that. 



    I can't. 



    Why not? she said plaintively. 



    You know why. 



    You don't love me, Dalia said a little desperately, taking 



another step toward the door to put some space between 



them. You couldn't love me and hurt me like that. You 



couldn't love me and not forgive me. 



    How do you know? he asked quietly, following her step 



for step. 



    Because ... I just do. I know that when you love someone 



you don't expect them to be perfect and you love them in 



spite of their mistakes. 



    He shrugged. I don't know. I never had love before. I 



never felt love before. You'll have to teach me. He braced his 



hands on either side of her head as she flattened herself 



against the door, unable to open it. 



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                          Chapter Seventeen 



    Reuel bent his head, kissing her cheek when she twisted 



her face away, then nuzzling her ear. How is it that you 



understand it so much better than I, little flower? he 



whispered huskily, tugging at her earlobe with his lips. 



    A shiver of sensation skated over Dalia's flesh. Warmth 



followed it and a dizzying weakness that made it necessary to 



lock her wobbly knees. She swallowed. I'm so horribly 



swollen. How could you want me, now? 



    He pulled away from her and looked down at the huge 



bulge that kept them apart. Lifting one hand, he skated it 



lightly over her distended abdomen, as if testing the 



circumference. When he looked up and met her gaze once 



more, his eyes glowed with passion. You are as beautiful to 



me as you were when I first saw you. This only makes you 



more beautiful to me, more desirable, not less. 



    She was more inclined to believe he was too desperate to 



join his body with hers to care, but she felt much the same. 



This time when he lowered his lips to hers, she tilted her head 



up to meet him. Heat seared her as his lips met and clung to 



her own once, twice. Then he brushed his lips lightly across 



the sensitive surface of her lips in a tentative caress, as if he 



was testing his welcome. She inhaled sharply, sucking his 



breath into her, tasting him on her tongue. The effect was far 



more devastating to her senses than she remembered. 



Sighing in defeat, she lifted her hands to his chest and skated 



her palms upward, clutching his shoulders. 



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    It was all the encouragement he needed. Groaning, he 



covered her mouth with his own and thrust his tongue inside 



her to explore her intimately. Another rush of stinging 



pleasure sparked along her nerve endings. Her skin flushed 



with sensation. 



    Her belly clenched painfully with long denied desire. 



    The baby kicked reflexively. 



    Reuel jumped back as if he'd been scalded. He stared 



down at her stomach with such a look of stunned surprise 



that Dalia burst out laughing. 



    He glanced at her and slowly a grin dawned. He placed his 



hand on her stomach tentatively. Sensing the pressure, the 



baby kicked again. I felt him. 



    Dalia laughed. I'd have been more surprised if you 



hadn't. 



    After a moment, he slipped a hand behind her back, bent 



and put his other arm beneath her knees, and lifted her up. 



Turning, he strode across the room and set her on her feet 



beside the bed. Without a word, he caught hold of her gown 



and pulled it off over her head. Dalia covered her stomach 



self-consciously, but he pushed her hands away, skimming 



his own hands over her belly. 



    Dalia sighed, feeling the heat of burgeoning desire slowly 



dissipate. 



    He glanced at her and a slow smile dawned. This will 



require some experimentation. 



    She felt a rush of pleasure. Will it? 



    Stripping his tunic off, he tossed it, grasped her, and 



climbed into the bed with her. Pushing her flat against the 



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mattress, he levered himself over her and covered her mouth 



in a kiss that spoke of a hunger that matched or surpassed 



her own. Instantly, she lost awareness of everything but the 



feel of his mouth on hers, his taste, the scent of his flesh. The 



heat that had scarcely waned, surged back tenfold as she 



stroked his chest, his back, his arms, relishing the feel of his 



bare flesh. He skated his hands over her in a restless caress 



of his own, massaging her swollen breasts and distended 



nipples, caressing her belly and thighs. 



    When at last he broke the kiss, it was only to follow the 



path of his hands, to caress her already sensitive flesh with 



the heat of his mouth. She had missed his kisses most of all, 



she thought as she watched him moving along her flesh. 



Whatever he said, whatever he did, he loved her with each 



hungry kiss, adored her, and it made every touch, every kiss, 



exquisite, profoundly satisfying. Tell me you love me, he 



whispered hoarsely. 



    She kissed his shoulder, slid a hand along his hard belly, 



searching for the distended flesh she could feel digging into 



her thigh. He shifted upward and it skated along her palm, a 



heated, throbbing, hard length of flesh that filled her hand 



and made her heart labor even harder, made her lungs 



struggle to drag air into her chest. Closing her hand around 



his erection, she stroked him, nipping love bites along the 



bulging muscles of his upper chest. He groaned, surging 



against her clenched hand as he sought her lips once more. 



Say it, he murmured against her lips before he covered her 



mouth with his own, kissing her deeply. 



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    Abruptly, he tore his mouth from hers and rolled, carrying 



her with him until she was straddling his belly. She looked 



down at him in surprise. He placed his hands along her thighs 



and surged upwards and she felt his cock slipping along her 



cleft. Say it. 



    She gasped, closing her eyes and focusing on the luscious 



feel of his hard flesh, relishing the heat and length and 



breadth of it. 



    When she opened her eyes to look at him once more, she 



saw that he'd tucked an arm behind his head, lifting his 



shoulders off the bed so that he could watch her. Her mouth 



went dry, moisture and heat flooded her sex with anticipation. 



Holding her gaze, he looked down at the place where their 



bodies met. She followed, rising up slightly at his urging and 



watching as he reached for his cock and rubbed the head of it 



along her cleft, nudging that place where she desperately 



wanted him teasingly. 



    You love me. 



    She nodded dizzily, rotating her hips in an effort to fit their 



bodies together. 



    I need to hear you say it, he ground out. 



    Dalia opened her eyes to look at him as she felt him push 



the head of his cock past the mouth of her opening. I love 



you. 



    His features went taut. He swallowed convulsively, his 



gaze searching her face. She smiled, lifting her hand to stroke 



his cheek. I do love you. 



    His eyes slid closed. Groaning, he thrust upward. 



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    She gasped with pleasure as she felt the muscles of her 



passage yielding to him, pushing back to encompass him 



completely, until she could feel him nudging against her 



womb. He caught her hips, urging her to rise up. She lifted, 



watching his face as he studied the joining of their bodies 



intently. 



    They teased each other unhurriedly, holding their rising 



passions at bay mercilessly, watching the ecstasy flicker 



across each other's expression. The time came, however, 



when Dalia knew she couldn't contain it any more. She 



reached between them, massaging the nub of her clit. Reuel 



went still, watching her, holding his breath. 



    Abruptly, he sat up, catching one distended nipple in his 



mouth and suckling it so hard Dalia's climax struck her 



shatteringly. She cried out, moving faster now, feeling it rip 



through her in a scalding flash of heat. He nuzzled her 



breasts, caught her hips, and forced her to move faster until 



his own body convulsed in exquisite pleasure, holding her so 



tightly to him she could scarcely breathe. 



    Almost reluctantly, he loosened his hold after a few 



moments. Dragging her down to lie beside him, he stroked 



the damp hair from her cheeks. I want.... He paused, as if 



he was uncertain of how to continue. I want a family unit. 



    Dalia swam upwards from near oblivion in surprise. 



What? 



    His gaze flickered over her face speculatively, doubt 



surfacing in his eyes. Will you contract with me? 



    Fear surged through her. Dalia sat up abruptly. I can't. I 



don't think I can do that. 



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    Reuel sat up, as well, his face a mixture of confusion and 



anger. Why? 



    I've no skills ... for that. 



    He frowned. You could learn. 



    You're angry with me. You would always be angry with 



me, because I'd make mistakes and ... you don't know how to 



forgive. 



    He caught her face between his palms, forcing her to meet 



his gaze. There was desperation in his eyes, pain. Teach 



me, he said earnestly. 



    Dalia studied his face and finally sighed. I thought you 



meant to send me away, to take the baby. I've spent months 



trying to accept it. I've spent months trying not to love you 



anymore, because I didn't think you loved me. Before, I 



thought it was what I wanted, anything that you wanted. I 



can't think now. 



    He swallowed convulsively and finally pulled her close, 



tucking her head against his shoulder. We must start again, 



from the beginning. 



    Dalia sighed. That's just it. I'm not sure I want to again. I 



tried to tell you. 



    His arms tightened. If you hadn't wanted to, if you had 



stopped caring for me, what just happened between us 



wouldn't have happened at all, and certainly not as it did. 



    She said nothing for several moments. Finally, she 



chuckled. Do you ever tire of being right? 



    He pulled away from her, studied her searchingly and 



finally smiled faintly as he stroked her cheek. Not nearly as 



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much as I tire of being wrong. Get dressed. I want to show 



you your new home. 



    Dalia felt a surge of both relief and excitement. 



    Both deflated as she pulled her shift on. 



    Pierce would almost certainly be waiting and watching for 



her. I forgot about Pierce, she muttered. 



    Reuel's head snapped up. Frowning, he returned his 



attention to dressing. You care for him? 



    She studied him, realizing he was containing his anger with 



an effort. It irritated her. Yes, I do. Too much to want to hurt 



him. 



    He studied her speculatively for several moments. I will 



show you both your new home, he managed finally. 



    Dalia turned her face away, biting her lip to keep from 



smiling. Is it beautiful? 



    He relaxed fractionally. It is. 



    She'd more than half hoped she'd been wrong about Pierce 



when she saw that the crowd that had been below some 



twenty minutes earlier had vanished, but she saw as they 



walked down the gangplank that she hadn't been. The 



moment they started down, Pierce stood away from the 



column he'd been leaning against. His gaze scanned her 



briefly, and then zeroed in on Reuel. 



    Dalia's heart sank. She forced a smile, glancing at the 



structure at the edge of the landing platform, and then up at 



the sky and the landscape as far as she could see. 



    The building had been erected of stone, and built for 



beauty as well as function. The column Pierce had been 



leaning on was one of twelve. Each looked to be nearly fifteen 



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feet in height and perhaps three in diameter. At the tops, 



which supported the roof of the structure, long, broad leaves 



of had been carved into the stone. 



    The light of a bright yellow sun shone down upon it, 



illuminating the interior of the building through tall, wide 



doors and windows, splashing across a floor paved with 



colored stones. 



    Beyond the structure to the east, a young city budded 



from a flat, green plane. 



    The air was clean and sweet, the sky bright turquoise. 



    It is beautiful! Dalia exclaimed, turning to encompass 



Reuel with her smile of appreciation. 



    Pierce's face was taut when they reached him. With an 



effort, he disengaged his gaze from Reuel's challenging one 



and looked down at her. If you don't need me, I should go, I 



think, he said stiffly. 



    Dalia grasped his hand, stopping him. Shaking her head 



ever so slightly, she smiled at him coaxingly. Reuel offered 



to show us the city. You're not going to run off? 



    Pierce glanced from her hopeful face to Reuel's 



unwelcoming one. Finally, grinning, he looped his arm 



through hers. It doesn't look like a complicated layout. I 



expect we can find our own way around. 



    Reuel's eyes narrowed. Matching his pace to theirs, he 



caught Dalia's other hand and looped it through his arm. The 



two men exchanged challenging glances above her head. 



    Dalia tugged at both of them. What is this building? I've 



never seen anything like it. 



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    Smiling in a faintly triumphant way, Reuel glanced down at 



her. I designed it after an ancient human structure. I made 



some modifications, naturally. 



    I couldn't help but notice you have a ... passion for 



ancient things. 



    Reuel sent her a smoldering glance. I have a passion for 



beautiful things. 



    She could hear Pierce grinding his teeth. It doesn't look 



very practical. I'd think it would take a great deal of energy to 



keep this comfortable. It wouldn't meet the conservation laws 



of the confederation. 



    Human laws do not apply to us. In any case, it is very 



efficient. It uses virtually no energy to maintain the comfort 



level because this area we chose to build our city has very 



little fluctuation in temperatures throughout the year. We 



wanted to build a city that was beautiful and preserve the 



natural beauty of our world at the same time, not despoil it as 



the humans did theirs. Every effort has been made to 



incorporate the latest conservation technology, because it is 



wiser to do so than wait until there is no choice. 



    Dalia sighed with a touch of impatience as they strolled 



through the structure and out the other side. It seemed likely 



that Reuel and Pierce would be snipping at one another 



throughout the tour, but she decided she wasn't going to 



choose between them and hurt one to please the other, or 



allow them to spoil her enjoyment. 



    Determinedly, she forged onward as they left the building 



and started along the stone paved road that led to the city. 



She began to tire, however, long before they reached the 



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outskirts, the muscles in her distended belly straining from 



the walk. Tugging her hands free, she slipped one beneath 



the weight to support it, rubbing her aching muscles absently 



with the other. 



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                           Chapter Eighteen 



    What's wrong? Reuel and Pierce demanded in stereo. 



    Nothing! she said irritably, struggling to maintain an 



even breath and wondering why she felt as if she were 



climbing when the road seemed perfectly flat. 



    Reuel stopped, glancing from the building they'd just left 



to the city. You're tired? he asked, disbelief evident in his 



voice. 



    Dalia gave him a narrow eyed glare. Try strapping twenty 



pounds to your cock and carrying it around! she snapped. 



    Pierce let out a bark of laughter before he apparently 



thought better of it. She sent him an evil look. He lifted his 



brows, assuming a carefully neutral expression. When she 



glanced back at Reuel, she saw his lips were twitching on the 



verge of a smile. Quite suddenly, despite the throbbing ache 



in her back and stomach, Dalia chuckled. Sorry. It hurts, 



damn it. 



    Without a word, Reuel scooped her into his arms. 



    Pierce glared at both of them, but Dalia found she was too 



relieved to be off her feet to worry about the prick to his ego 



at the moment. I don't suppose there's any ground 



transportation? he said tightly. 



    Reuel glanced at him. I have personal transport, he said 



slowly. But it's across the city, at my home. 



    Not very helpful. Why don't you let me take her and you 



go get the transport? 



    Reuel's face darkened. I can carry her. 



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    She'd be more comfortable in on a padded seat, though, 



wouldn't you? 



    Dalia glared at both of them. It would serve you both 



right if I dropped this thing right here! 



    A look of horror washed across both men's faces as they 



looked at each other sharply. Majia's balls! You're not going 



to, though, right? Pierce exclaimed. 



    Now? Reuel demanded, twisting around and glancing 



from the building they'd just left to the city once more, 



realizing it looked much further away than he'd thought. 



    Until she'd said it, it hadn't occurred to Dalia that there 



was even a possibility of it. The pain had not really subsided, 



however, when Reuel had picked her up, and she realized 



that she'd been struggling to ignore the pain in her back and 



belly for some time. 



    Reuel had effectively distracted her for a while, but almost 



as soon as she'd begun walking it had returned, rapidly 



becoming much worse that before. 



    Frowning, she activated her inboard computer. Computer, 



analyze the pain radiating from my back through my 



abdomen. 



    Contractions. 



    What kind of contractions? Dalia asked uneasily, 



wondering if she shouldn't have made love to Reuel after all. 



    Birth contractions. The skull of the unknown life-form has 



been engaged in the pubic cavity. Descending canal. 



    Dalia felt the blood leave her face. Can you scan the life- 



form, computer? 



    Scanning. Carbon based life-form. Humanoid. 



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    Stage of development? Dalia asked fearfully. Can you 



ascertain whether or not the life-form can survive without the 



assistance of the host life-form? 



    Calculated stage of development, 90%. Internal organ 



development sufficient to sustain life-form. 



    If it's only 90%, why is it being born now? 



    Unknown. 



    Should it be stopped? Can it be stopped? 



    Negative. 



    She looked up at Reuel fearfully, then at Pierce, swallowing 



with an effort against the lump of anxiety knotting her throat. 



She licked her lips. Now. 



    The single word was sufficient to strike terror in the hearts 



of both men. They froze, staring at one another as if each one 



expected the other to come up with a solution. Abruptly, 



Reuel turned and started walking quickly toward the city. 



    Pierce fell into step beside them. Where's the med 



center? 



    The center of the city, Reuel said grimly. 



    How long? 



    Fifteen minutes. He glanced down at Dalia. Maybe 



twenty. 



    Here, I'll carry her a while. 



    No. 



    Do you mind? Dalia demanded, gritting her teeth. 



    Pierce switched sides. Moving around Reuel, he reached up 



to stroke her hair back from her face. Sorry, Dally, he 



murmured, ignoring the glare Reuel bent on him. Is it bad? 



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    No, she gasped, and then groaned as the pain intensified 



suddenly. Yes! 



    Reuel walked a little faster. 



    Dalia panted. Stop! 



    Reuel stopped as if he'd hit a brick wall. What? 



    This makes my back hurt worse. Put me down. I'll walk a 



little. 



    Again, the two men exchanged panicked glances. 



    Will you stop it! she snapped irritably. 



    Reluctantly, Reuel set her on her feet. Grasping her 



stomach, Dalia managed a half a dozen shuffling steps before 



she bent double. Son of a bitch! she yelped. 



    Pierce caught hold of Reuel's wrist, tightening his grip 



when Reuel would have pulled free. We'll make a chair for 



you, baby. Put one arm around his neck and one around 



mine. 



    Dalia nodded, hobbling over to them and sitting carefully 



on their joined arms. 



    Better? 



    Gritting her teeth, she nodded. She didn't have the heart 



to tell him that sitting up only made her belly hurt much, 



much worse. She dropped her head on Pierce's shoulder, 



trying to concentrate on filtering out the pain. She could 



handle it. She knew she could. 



    She had to. If she scared either one of them any worse, 



they were liable to drop her and flee. 



    Once the reached the edge of the city, they gathered a 



crowd. What is it? What's wrong with her? someone 



questioned them sharply. 



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    She's having a baby, Pierce snapped. 



    What? 



    She's the one? 



    Get the hell out of the way, Reuel growled. 



    She's having a baby? It can't be a baby, can it? 



    Of course it's a baby! What the hell else would it be? 



    Cyborg? 



    It's still a baby, fool! 



    Dalia's head swam. Go away, she said faintly. 



    They didn't. The growing crowd followed them every step 



of the way until the threesome reached the med center. The 



word apparently having spread, more rushed up as they went 



until they had to fight their way through the gathering throng. 



    At long last, they reached the med center. Reuel grabbed 



Dalia from Pierce and rushed inside, Pierce on his heels. The 



moment Pierce cleared the door, he slammed it shut and 



locked it. 



    There were five techs in the waiting and treatment area. 



They stopped, lifting their heads like deer that had caught the 



scent of the hunter. Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on her 



bulging belly. 



    She needs ... something, Reuel growled. The baby's 



coming. 



    The med techs merely stared at him blankly. You mean 



birth? one of them finally said. 



    Yes! Pierce snapped. Birth. Now! 



    But ... she's not supposed to now. They told me it would 



be months. 



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    Dalia groaned, demanding to be put down and Reuel set 



her carefully on her feet, supporting her with an arm around 



her waist. Her feet had no sooner touched the tile floor than 



something hot and wet rushed between her thighs, running 



down her legs and forming a puddle on the floor. Dalia 



gasped fearfully. What is that? What's happening? 



    Urine? the med tech nearest her guessed. 



    Dalia glared at him and slapped him square across the jaw. 



It's something from the baby! 



    Abruptly, all five med techs sprang into action, launching 



themselves in five different directions at once. Unfortunately, 



their paths converged. They slammed together with a noise 



like a clap of thunder. One of the females bounced backward, 



slammed into the wall and then hit the floor on her hands and 



knees. Before she could gain her feet, two of the other three 



fell over her. 



    You were supposed to be ready! Reuel roared furiously. 



    Wordlessly, the med techs scrambled to their feet and 



rushed away. In a few moments, one came barreling down 



the corridor pushing a gurney in front of him. As he slid to a 



stop in front of Reuel and Dalia, another med tech rushed up 



with some sort of monitoring device on wheels. When Reuel 



had lifted her and settled her on the gurney, they turned and 



went back down the corridor to an examination room. 



    Reuel and Pierce exchanged a long look and followed. 



Taking up position on either side of the door, they folded their 



arms, leaned back against the wall, and watched the 



proceedings suspiciously. 



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    Pierce glanced at Reuel. Do they know what they're 



doing? 



    They damn well better, Reuel growled, but he didn't like 



the way the med techs kept exchanging nervous glances. 



Finally, one of the techs dashed past them and out the door. 



Ten minutes later, he returned with an antiquated computer 



on wheels, pushed it across the room, and hooked it up. 



    Reuel covered his face with his hands when they pulled up 



an even more ancient, pictorial medical encyclopedia and 



began clicking through the pages frantically. By the time 



they'd found the passages they needed and began a checklist, 



Dalia looked and sounded as if she was dying, her panting 



gasps escaping more like hoarse screams of agony. 



    White-faced, Reuel stood away from the wall abruptly and 



left the room. 



    Pierce stayed, watching as one of the med techs moved to 



the foot of the gurney, pushed Dalia's legs up until her knees 



were almost perpendicular and parted her thighs. After 



leaning close and studying her for several moments, he poked 



his head up again and looked at the computer screen. What 



did it say it was supposed to look like? 



    The question was bad enough. One glimpse of the round 



black blob protruding from her body and the blood trickling 



out around sent a wave of dizziness through him. With an 



effort, he felt his way blindly out the door, slid down the wall 



and put his head down. 



    Reuel stopped pacing, staring down at Pierce in abject 



terror. What's wrong? 



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    Everything, I think, Pierce said a little sickly. When you 



were checking out this natural reproduction thing, did you 



happen to check to see if many of the females survived it? 



    Feeling the blood rush from his face, Reuel thrust the door 



open and reentered the examination room just in time to see 



a horrible, bloody mass slither from Dalia's body and into the 



waiting hands of one of the techs. He knew then that Pierce 



was right. Dalia was dying and the infant he'd looked forward 



to with so much hope was nothing more than a bloody mass 



of biological material that looked as if it had gone through a 



defective particle transporter. Blackness swarmed around 



him. His knees suddenly felt like jelly. He felt himself sway. 



    The next moment he was aware of, he was staring up at 



the ceiling and listening to a weak, strange noise that 



sounded like a combination of crying and choking. 



    Confused, both by that and the fact that his skull felt as if 



he'd cracked it open, he sat up slowly, holding his pounding 



head and trying to figure out how he'd gotten back into the 



corridor when he didn't remember leaving the examination 



room. 



    Hey! Pierce exclaimed, chuckling. It looks like a baby! 



    Hope surging through him at that announcement, Reuel 



struggled to his feet with an effort, reentered the examination 



room, and shoved Pierce aside. Relief flooded him as he 



watched one of the techs carefully wiping the bloody residue 



off of the screaming child. He could tell nothing about the 



face, beyond the fact that the mouth worked. It was wide 



open. There were slits where the eyes were supposed to be. 



He sincerely hoped that only meant that it had squeezed 



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them closed. It was red with fury and waving two arms and 



two legs, with two hands and two feet. He counted ten fingers 



and ten toes. It was definitely humanoid. A slow smile curled 



his lips. It's a female. 



    Dalia chuckled weakly and reached for the squalling infant. 



It began to grow quieter almost at once and Reuel moved to 



the head of the gurney, smiling as he watched it wiggle 



around in search of a comfortable position. Finally, it 



managed to get one of its waving fingers in its mouth and 



began sucking. Dalia flicked a look up at his face. I'm all 



right, thanks, she said dryly. 



    Reuel flushed uncomfortably. Catching her hand, he lifted 



it to his lips and kissed the back and then leaned down and 



kissed her lips. You're wrong if you think I wasn't worried. 



I've never been that scared before in my life. I'm just so ... 



overwhelmed. 



    Guess that's why you fainted? Pierce commented. At the 



withering glance Reuel sent in his direction, he added, I'd 



say that probably makes it unanimous. He turned to study 



the departing med techs. They need reprogramming. 



    Reuel gave him a look. We'll all need some. We've got 



nearly six thousand cyborgs on Mordal and three thousand in 



the city Gallen, most of whom were designed as soldiers and 



damn few with any other kind of training. He gestured 



toward the group that had just left. They were programmed 



as med techs for battle wounds, not medical conditions, 



sickness, and most definitely not for delivering babies. 



    Pierce shrugged. Guess that's why they didn't know their 



ass from a hole in the ground? He transferred his attention 



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to Dalia and the infant. Anyway, you've got a beautiful baby, 



Dally. 



    Dalia looked at the baby a little doubtfully. You think so? 



    No. 



    Dalia glared at him. If you had any idea of the hell I just 



went through, you'd lie. 



    Pierce sobered. I've got a pretty good ideaand I was 



just teasing you. She's strong, healthy and got everything 



she's supposed to have. That makes her beautiful. 



    Dalia shifted the baby so that she could study its sleeping 



face. A smile tugged at her lips. She looks like Reuel. 



    Really? No wonder she's ugly as hell. Poor little tyke. 



    Dalia chuckled at the look on Reuel's face. It was obvious 



he didn't know whether to be more insulted by her remark or 



Pierce's. Before he could think up a suitable retort, a great 



roar filtered through the building to them. 



    What was that? Dalia asked uneasily. 



    Reuel and Pierce exchanged a glance and left the room. 



Pierce was grinning when they returned and Reuel looking 



very pleased with himself. They're celebrating, Reuel said, 



his voice threaded with pride and excitement, the birth of the 



first cyborg. 



    The birth of the first child born on Mordal, Pierce added. 



    I should take her and show them, Reuel said, studying 



the infant a little doubtfully. 



    Dalia gave him a look. Don't even think about it. The 



computer said she was only 90% matured. They can see her 



when she's a little older. 



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    Yeah, Pierce added. Hopefully, she'll look better, too.... 



What? he added when Reuel and Dalia both gave him an 



indignant glare. 



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                           Chapter Nineteen 



    Dalia was overwhelmed when they left the med center two 



days later. Hundreds of cyborgs, both male and female, lined 



the walks on either side of the street, trying to get a glimpse 



of the infant, cheering almost hysterically each time she lifted 



it up for them to see it. 



    Reuel, despite his suggestion of taking it out to show the 



day it was born, wasn't terribly anxious to hold it. He seemed 



perfectly content to stare at her for hours, but every time she 



handed the infant to him, he went rigid, hardly daring even to 



breathe. That was usually followed by a sickly, greenish pallor 



to his skin and a cold sweat. 



    Pierce didn't do much better. As long as he wasn't holding 



the infant, he was completely nonchalant about the care of it, 



and eager to impart the wisdom of infant care that he 



remembered from his childhood programming. The moment 



she suggested he hold it, however, he thought of something 



else he had to do and disappeared. 



    She couldn't say that she blamed them. She was terrified 



of it herself. She hadn't expected it to be so tiny, or look so 



fragile and helpless. It couldn't even feed itself, let alone look 



for its own food. And it almost seemed as if, when she did 



feed it the liquid diet the med techs assured her were all the 



sustenance it needed right now, the food poured right 



through it and out the other end. It was constantly soiling 



itself, which was another reason neither Reuel nor Pierce 



wanted to hold it. 



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    She hadn't wanted to voice her fears aloud, but she 



couldn't help but worry that something was very wrong. 



    The new residents of the cyborg world had been assigned 



to the homes of those who'd come before them until they 



decided to stay and build their own abode or leave. And Dalia 



discovered that she was to make her home with Reuel, which 



didn't surprise her. What did was that Reuel had arranged to 



take Pierce, as well, until it occurred to her that Pierce was 



one of the minute few who had any prior knowledge of 



infants. 



    Reuel's abode, or home as he referred to it, was what he 



called a plantation about a mile beyond the outer rim of the 



city of Gallen. He grew food, but also plants that were used to 



make other things. 



    She'd been surprised to learn of it, until it occurred to her 



that they would have to have something like it to provide a 



continuous supply of food. It had taken them three months to 



get to Mordal. Even if it hadn't been dangerous to regularly 



travel between the planet and others for supplies, it wasn't 



practical. 



    Then, too, Mordal had no monetary system like the known 



universe. The cyborgs traded for what they wanted. The fact 



that Reuel grew food and everyone needed food meant that 



Reuel was one of the wealthiest cyborgs on the planet, 



particularly since he also seemed to understand the 



techniques of growing better than anyone else and produced 



far more than any of the other planters. 



    His abode was startling even after all of the other buildings 



Dalia had seen since she'd arrived. For one thing, it was an 



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enormous structure of many rooms. On Earth, one was 



fortunate even to have soul possession and use of one large 



room. Reuel's house had ten rooms of staggering proportions. 



Even the rooms for bathing were larger than the quarters 



she'd had. Most of the storage compartments were larger 



than her quarters. 



    He was obviously fond of what he referred to as porches, 



which were, basically, rooms on the outside of the building 



that had a floor and ceiling, but no walls or windows beyond 



those that made up the outer wall of the houseand 



columns. A porch ran the width of the building on the front 



and was lined with tall columns that supported the outer edge 



of the roof. These columns were not smooth like those at the 



flight terminal, however. They had regular, concave gouges 



running vertically around their circumference, which Reuel 



referred to as fluting. The decorative tops of the columns 



were also more elaborately carved. 



    It had windows everywhere, most of them tall enough they 



could've been doors if they'd been set nearer the floor. The 



doors were big enough for giants. 



    Staring at the enormous white structure as they neared it, 



Dalia felt her stomach go weightless. She wasn't certain 



whether it was the beauty of the building itself that inspired 



such awe, or if that was only part of it, but she was aware of 



equal parts of admiration and gut wrenching fearof so much 



space and of occupying it with Reuel. 



    He hadn't said anything else about contracting as a family 



unit, but she was fairly certain that wasn't because he'd 



forgotten it or dismissed the idea. She had the distinct feeling 



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that he thought she would grow accustomed to it by sharing 



his abode with him and the infant. 



    She wasn't certain she would. She hadn't experienced 



anything since the birth of the infant to convince her she'd 



been wrong about not having nurturing instincts. The infant 



seemed to trust her, which only proved the poor thing hadn't 



developed adequate logic capabilities, because she hadn't a 



clue of what she was doing, or if she was doing any of it 



correctly. The only reason she hadn't handed it to Reuel and 



fled was because he wouldn't take it long enough, she didn't 



think the city of Gallen was large enough for her to hide, and 



she hated for everyone to know how incompetent she was. 



    Since the techs had insisted that she must refrain from 



sexual activities for at least a few weeks due to the condition 



of her body from the birth, Reuel settled her in a room by 



herself ... well, almost. He had set the room up with a tiny 



bed that had sides for the infant. She would've rather he'd 



put the infant in another room, but, she supposed since the 



food went through it before it had time to assimilate much of 



it, it had to be fed every few hours to keep it from starving to 



death. And, for some reason, Reuel and Pierce, who never 



agreed on anything else, decided she was best qualified for 



that job. 



    She decided to accept the decision without argumentfor 



the time being. She fully intended to see to it that she wasn't 



saddled with the entire responsibility of nurturing, however. 



Reuel had contributed, and he could damn well accept that he 



was going to be sharing the responsibility of parenting. For 



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that matter, she saw no reason for Pierce not to if he was 



going to continue living at the plantation for a while. 



    Despite that resolve, she resented the fact that their idea 



of helping was to leave the house altogether so that they 



wouldn't accidentally wake the infant, especially when she 



wanted to do nothing but sleep and she was only allowed a 



few hours at a stretch. But she found that it was oddly 



satisfying to cuddle the tiny thing and hold the bottle while it 



drank. 



    It had developed the habit of clutching a fistful of her tunic 



while she held it. She didn't know whether that meant it 



sensed she might drop it and didn't fully trust her, or if it was 



just trying to stay close to her because it had been attached 



inside of her so long and thought it was still supposed to be 



attached. 



    We should name it, she announced to Reuel and Pierce 



once they'd settled into their rooms and gathered in the 



small informal living area that adjoined the bedrooms, which 



were all on the second floor of the house. 



    Reuel smiled faintly, glancing around the room with 



obvious pride. I did. I call it Tara, from one of the ancient 



paper books I've collected. 



    Following his gaze, Dalia rolled her eyes. The infant! 



    Oh. Reuel looked at her sheepishly. 



    Reuela? Pierce suggested. 



    Dalia looked at him suspiciously. Reuela? she echoed. 



    He shrugged. You said it looked like Reuel. I don't see it 



myself, but she does have black hair like his. 



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    My moth... Dalia stopped self-consciously. After a 



moment, she cleared her throat and started over. My 



mother's second name was Claire. 



    Reuel studied her, his expression unreadable. Then we'll 



name her Claire, he said finally, then turned and left the 



room. 



    Pierce's eyebrows rose. What's his problem, you think? 



    Dalia sighed. I think its because he doesn't have 



memories like we do. Of course, we know now they were only 



planted, but ... even knowing it, I still feel like it happened. 



He ... none of the cyborgs have that. I think there's just sort 



of an emptiness, a feeling that they missed something 



important. They don't have a ... history. I think, maybe, 



that's one of the reasons Reuel is so fascinated with historical 



things. 



    Pierce frowned. They've done a hell of a job building this 



place. Why don't they just program it in like we were 



programmed? 



    Dalia shrugged. Pride, maybe? They don't want to admit 



they feel inferior in any way? But I don't think they have the 



technology to do anything like that anyway. You saw the 



thing the med techs were using. It must have been a hundred 



years old! We were cutting edge, even for the company. 



Short of taking one of us apart for study, I wouldn't think 



they'd be able to develop the technology to do it if they 



wanted to. 



                                   * * * * 



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    A week after Dalia had given birth, the four of them were 



summoned to attend a general meeting of the council at the 



municipal center to address the state of their tiny nation. 



    Dalia was nervous. She knew at least a part of the reason 



for it was to reassure the cyborg community that reproduction 



among them had been a success, but Claire still couldn't talk. 



She had begun to actually look much better, but she still 



looked strangely misshapen to Dalia's mind. She was stronger 



and she showed signs of developing mental capabilities by 



looking around her curiously, but Dalia still had the uneasy 



feeling that she'd somehow fucked up the most momentous 



assignment she'd ever been given and that the infant wasn't 



normal'. 



    It was only to be expected that she would be small. She 



would have to be considering the limited space she had to 



grow, but shouldn't she be just a smaller version of a full 



grown female? And, if it were just a lack of maturity, how 



long would it take before she looked more like she should? 



    The data banks were still gathering information. The data 



gathered by her own inboard computer regarding the changes 



in her body and the development of the fetus had been 



downloaded into it before she left the med center. She was to 



take the infant back for weekly scans to gather developmental 



information and had already taken Claire to her first the day 



before the meeting, but there simply wasn't enough data yet 



to make a determination. Until and unless they were able to 



gather information on more than one subject, they had 



nothing to compare the data they gathered on Claire against 



except the information in the computers about human infants. 



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    Physiologically, she was almost identical to a human 



infant, except for the fact that she contained cyborg DNA and 



a far higher metal content than found in humans. Her bone 



structure wasn't titanium as Dalia's and Reuel's were, but it 



wasn't primarily calcium either, like human bone. It was 



something with a high titanium content that the computer 



was unable to identify. Developmentally, the med techs 



indicated that Claire was maturing at a faster rate than a 



human infant. That fact seemed to disturb the med techs, 



who apparently had expected that she would mature at a 



similar rate. And Dalia went from worrying about Claire being 



underdeveloped to worrying that she was maturing too fast 



and then back again when it dawned on her that the med 



techs hardly seemed to have a clue of what was happening 



themselves. 



    And why should they when the entire thing was 



unprecedented? 



    The municipal hall was already packed by the time they 



arrived, but they were shown to seats at the front that had 



been set aside specifically for them. It continued to fill for 



another thirty minutes before the president of the colony 



called for order and stood up to address the assemblage. He 



looked out over the sea of faces for several moments before 



he spoke. 



    We want to welcome those of you who have just joined us 



here in Gallen. I am well aware that you were not given a 



choice, but it was never our intention to deprive you of a 



choice. Rather, we hoped to gain the chance to make friends 



of our enemies. Some of you will almost certainly decide that 



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you prefer the world you have known to the one that we are 



building. We hope that most of you, however, will find a place 



for yourselves and that, eventually, we will all live together as 



friends, neighbors and allies and no longer consider ourselves 



enemies. 



    Any of you who feel after spending a year here that you 



would prefer to leave will be escorted beyond our system to 



one of the worlds near the outer rim. 



    I caution you, however, to consider the matter carefully. 



Once you have been expelled, you will not be welcomed again 



for the simple reason that we are in agreement that anyone 



who cannot adjust in a year cannot adjust at all and would 



never be a useful citizen. 



    He paused for questions after the announcement. The 



question and answer session went on for almost an hour, but 



he continued to take questions until everyone appeared 



satisfied that their doubts had been addressed. 



    Dalia, Reuel and Claire were summoned up onto the 



platform next to display the infant. A quiet fell over the 



auditorium that might have been awe or dismay, as everyone 



stared at the baby. Dalia wasn't certain which, but it 



unnerved her. Reuel didn't seem to share her reservations. 



He looked as proud of her as if she'd actually been beautiful 



and intelligent instead of an odd lump of uncoordinated flesh 



whose only accomplishments to date were staring around 



curiously, evacuating its body waste with regularity and 



screaming every time it was hungry, wet, soiled, tired or just 



bored. 



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    More accurately, she supposed, he looked as proud as if 



he'd single-handedly accomplished something no one else had 



ever accomplished. 



    An odd sort of warmth filled her as she watched him, 



however, an odd sense of fulfillment and she realized with a 



little surprise that it was the other side of sexual love. It was 



a feeling of being connected to someone else, happy, content, 



comfortable. 



    It confused her and troubled her. When they'd returned to 



their seats, she glanced surreptitiously at Pierce, who sat 



beside her holding the baby on his lap now. 



    She'd almost always felt that way, or a lot like that, about 



Pierce. He'd never stunned her breathless with desire only by 



looking at her. As attractive as she thought he was, she'd 



never been tempted to cross the line and defy company law 



by engaging in sexual activities with him, but he had a way 



about him that had always made her feel safe just being 



around him. He made her laugh. It made her feel good, both 



content and comfortable, just listening to his almost constant 



banter. 



    Did she love both of them? Or was it simply that she'd 



didn't grasp the emotion as she'd thought she did? 



    The president drew her attention once more and she 



looked up at him almost with a sense of reprieve from her 



troubling thoughts. 



    He looked uncomfortable now and she frowned. She didn't 



think it had to do with the baby, however, not directly 



anyway. He'd read out the information they'd gathered after 



she and Reuel had left the platform and he'd, once more, 



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answered all of the questions put to him. Though, naturally 



enough, there was still far more they didn't know than they 



did. He'd managed to convince everyone, however, that Claire 



was a resounding success, and exactly as had been expected. 



No one had seemed particularly thrilled about the idea of 



producing such helpless, underdeveloped creatures and then 



having to nurture them to maturity, but they seemed content 



to accept that it was normal'. 



    We have some serious issues that must be addressed, 



the president said finally. Before I announce the new laws 



that we've passed, I want to assure everyone that these 



issues were not taken lightly or the decision an easy one. We 



spent months deliberating and debating and have finally 



reached what we feel is the solution most beneficial to 



everyone. 



    He paused, either to allow that much to sink in or because 



he was still wrestling with the best way to make an 



announcement he expected to be taken poorly. Baby Claire 



is the first offspring of our kind, but we have great 



expectations, tremendous hopes, that she will not be the last, 



that many of us will also be given the chance to found our 



own bloodlines. 



    Those hopes led to the decision to form family units to 



ensure a stronger bonding of our community members. Our 



creators have ceased to see the value of family units except 



on underdeveloped worlds like ours, but their conclusions of 



the benefits of family units in developing worlds leads us to 



consider it essential to our own growth. 



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    The problem arises that we are not just small in numbers, 



however. A traditional family unit among the humans would 



consist of a male, a female and offspring, as most of you are 



aware. We have four times the number of males than females 



and we cannot even be certain at this point that they will 



agree to stay. Half the females included in that number are 



among the newcomers. 



    If we allow our community to simply pair off, more than 



half the males will have no chance of finding a mate or family 



partner. This is unacceptable, not the least of which because 



it will almost certainly create a great deal of resentment in 



half our population, strife, conflict, competition for the 



available females that could wreck our chances of building 



what we want. 



    The only solution we could come up with that would serve 



the community is to pass a law prohibiting contracting of 



family units of pairs. Contracts must be left open to provide 



for at least one additional male, but not more than four. 



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                            Chapter Twenty 



    The president's hope of heading off an outpouring of 



outrage by explaining the circumstances before the 



announcement proved forlorn. The words were hardly out of 



his mouth before the entire room exploded, half of them 



jumping to their feet. It took almost thirty minutes to bring 



order. By the time it had been restored, the president looked 



as furious as everyone else. 



    Considering your displeasure with our solution to our 



problem, I think it should be clear enough that anything short 



of that would have been received far more poorly. None of us 



were completely satisfied. We don't expect you to be 



completely satisfied. However, it is the law. It will be strictly 



enforced, because it is in the best interests of all. 



    I'm sure those of you who have already formed an 



attachment are more disturbed than others who haven't, but 



you must consider whether it would be better to accept and 



adapt, or better to have to constantly guard your female from 



theft and wage battle against challengers. 



    We cannot hope to establish any sort of civilized societal 



structure under those conditions. 



    Emotions might be difficult for the cyborg community to 



handle, but logic was still strong in them. They quieted, 



settled into their seats once more, and considered the 



situation while questions were answered. Finally, still 



displeased, they accepted that the solution had merits, 



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especially since it increased their odds of a mate, even if it 



was a shared one, substantially. 



    Dalia wasn't certain how the other females in the group 



felt, but she wasn't completely comfortable with it. What no 



one had pointed out was that, even though the solution 



sounded logical and was best for all concerned, the cyborg 



males were nearly as territorial as their human counterparts, 



perhaps more so. Many of the females were almost as 



territorial, which meant that the majority of the battles would 



be fought in the homes instead of on the streets. 



    She hadn't dared even glance in Reuel's direction since the 



announcement. He'd been furious, and he and Pierce had 



been engaged in a glaring match above her head ever since. 



If she chose them, and she certainly wouldn't consider 



choosing anyone else, she would have to be standing between 



them constantly, at least until they adjusted to the idea, 



assuming they ever would. 



    It was almost more tempting to consider leaving the 



colony and taking her chances with the company. At least in 



that instance, she would have some peace. 



    They returned to the plantation in complete silence. Once 



they reached it, Dalia fled to her room and locked the door. 



She knew she wasn't going to be able to simply ignore the 



issue altogether, but she thought it best to allow Reuel time 



to come to terms with the law itself before there was any 



discussion on a more personal level. 



    Remaining single wasn't an option for the females. If they 



stayed, they were expected to play a pivotal role in 



establishing family units, not create more conflict by refusing 



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to accept even one male. So, unless she wanted to leave, 



which she didn't, she couldn't avoid Reuel's displeasure by 



simply refusing to commit at all. 



    For a week, everyone seemed determined to avoid 



everyone else as much as possible. Peace reigned in the 



household until the second week, when Pierce decided to 



court her since Reuel didn't seem to be making a push in that 



direction. 



    Conflict erupted almost immediately, but it didn't manifest 



itself in actual violence until the third week, at least as far as 



Dalia knew. Unfortunately, it appeared to be her effort to 



prevent that eventuality that provoked it. 



    They had taken up the practice of spending time in the 



informal living area in the evenings before bed and continued 



to even after the competition between Reuel and Pierce 



reached a point two weeks after the president's 



announcement that made it uncomfortable. 



    We have to establish some house rules, she said 



resolutely, standing up and addressing both Reuel and Pierce. 



    Reuel's eyes narrowed. It's my house. It's my plantation. 



I make the rules. 



    Dalia studied him for several moments in tight-lipped 



silence. Finally, she sighed. You're right. She glanced at 



Pierce. I'm going down to the land office tomorrow to see 



what's available. Would you mind coming along to help me 



with Claire? 



    Pierce sent Reuel a wicked look and grinned at her. Sure. 



I've been thinking about trying my hand at being a planter 



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since I started helping Reuel around here. I think I could be 



good at it. 



    Dalia nodded and got up. She stopped on the way to her 



room and looked back at Reuel. Actually, Claire's yours, too. 



I'll just leave her here with you. 



    She could see Reuel was already furious. Her parting shot 



pulled the rug out from under him. I'm willing to hear you 



out, he said ungraciously. 



    That's so magnanimous of you! she retorted tartly. 



    He ground his teeth. Do you want to talk about it or not? 



he ground out. 



    Not if you don't plan on being reasonable. 



    He's a borg, Dally. In case you haven't noticed, they're 



not very reasonable. 



    Dalia glared at Pierce. Before she could comment on such 



deliberate provocation, however, Reuel slugged him across 



the jaw so hard he flew backwards over the couch and 



skidded across the carpet almost to the wall. The moment he 



came to a halt, Pierce jumped to his feet with a roar of fury 



and launched himself toward Reuel, leaping over the couch. 



Reuel made no attempt to avoid him and Dalia was just 



thinking that he'd thought better of engaging in a full out 



battle in the house when, having waited until Pierce was 



within arm's reach, he executed a lightening fast punch that 



knocked Pierce's feet out from under him. 



    Pierce landed on the floor at his feet, flat of his back. He 



wasn't stunned long, however. Swinging one arm, he clipped 



the back of Reuel's knees hard enough that Reuel fell 



backwards. 



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    The baby had merely gaped at the two men in stunned 



surprise when Reuel had thrown the first punch. When he 



slugged Pierce the second time, she let out a blood-curdling 



shriek and kept on screaming. Cuddling her close, Dalia went 



into their room and slammed the door. It took her nearly 



thirty minutes to quiet the baby and she discovered that 



thirty minutes of infant wails were more torturous than 



anyone unfamiliar with that particular noise could possibly 



comprehend. It would've been easier, she thought, if not for 



the grunts, growls, meaty thuds, crashes of furniture and the 



tinkling sound of breaking glass. 



    Finally, Reuel and Pierce either reached an understanding, 



exhausted themselves, or reached unconsciousness. Silence 



fell and she managed to quiet the baby and get her to sleep. 



When she did, Dalia went out to assess the damage. The 



room was a shambles. Pierce was sitting on the floor in the 



middle of the wreckage, massaging his jaw and grinning at 



Reuel, who gingerly examining a black eye using a piece of 



what had once been a three foot square wall mirror but was 



now in fragments, most of them less than two inches. 



    Plunking her hands on her hips, Dalia glared at both of 



them. Claire is asleep. If either one of you makes a single 



sound that wakes her up and sets her off again, I swear, I'll 



kill you myself! I've changed my mind! I don't want either 



damn one of you! 



    When she returned from the land office the following day, 



the room was spotless. The broken furniture had been 



removed and replaced or repaired. Reuel and Pierce were 



sitting in chairs on either side of the room, glaring at each 



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other, but the moment she stopped in the doorway they 



assumed carefully neutral expressions. 



    Reuel cleared his throat. I apologize for last night. This 



isI'd like for this to be our home. 



    He seemed sincere enough, and the truth was Dalia didn't 



want to have to choose anyone else, but she wasn't about to 



contract with anyone who wasn't willing to treat her as a full 



partner. You have a real problem with ownership, Reuel, 



she said quietly. That's the main reason I didn't agree to a 



contract between us before. I think I understand why. And I 



know it's something you probably can't change, but you'll 



have to at least make an effort to restrain your 



possessiveness or find another partner because I will be a full 



partner in any contract I agree to. 



    He frowned, but thoughtfully, and finally nodded. 



    We'd like to hear the house rules, Pierce said coolly. 



    Dalia glanced at him. Good. Up until now I'm the only 



person here who has done any of the work in taking care of 



baby Claire. I love her and I don't mind. What I do mind is 



not being treated as an equal around here. So, the new house 



rule is that everybody takes a turn tending to baby Claire for 



however long it takes until she can take care of herself. 



Before, I didn't know any more about nurturing than either of 



you. If I can learn, both of you can learn. So, from now on, 



we rotate, bedtime to bedtime. She goes to sleep at seven. 



    Reuel flushed. That's the house rule? 



    Dalia gave him a look. That's the house rule I intended to 



talk about last night. There's another one tonight. No fighting 



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in the house, period. If you two just have to slug it out, take 



it outside. It scares Claire. 



    Pierce and Reuel exchanged a sheepish glance. Pierce 



cleared his throat uncomfortably. I hope you didn't mean 



what you saidabout the contract, I mean. I'd considered 



asking you about it after the president made the 



announcement, but you didn't seem to want to talk about it. 



    Dalia blushed. I made the assumption that you wanted to. 



I shouldn't have, but I was angry. I wasn't thinking clearly. I 



can't when Claire's been screaming in my ear for an hour. 



    You weren't wrong and I wasn't criticizing. I'm just asking 



if you'll reconsider. 



    Dalia turned to look at Reuel. He looked almost as angry 



as he had the night of the announcement, but he swallowed 



his spleen with an effort. I'd just as soon not share you with 



Pierce or anyone, but the alternative doesn't appeal to me. I 



suppose if the only choice is being one of two partners, I 



mean to be one of themif you'll have me, he added 



uncomfortably. 



    Relief flooded her. Dalia smiled tremulously. I was afraid 



the two of you would behave so badly I'd have to contract 



with someone else. 



    Moving quickly across the room, she leaned over the 



baby's head and kissed Reuel lightly on the lips. Yes! I love 



you! Before he could grab her, she plopped the baby down in 



his lap. It's your night. 



    He was still gaping at her in dismay when she cut off 



Pierce's retreat by grabbing hold back of his tunic. No you 



don't! 



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    He turned to look at her, both hurt and anger in his eyes. 



    Dismay filled her. Ordinarily, even if he'd been hurt he 



would've tried to pass it off with a joke. Sit on the porch with 



me? 



    She thought for several moments that he would refuse. 



Finally, reluctantly, he nodded. She knew Reuel was probably 



no happier than Pierce, but she could only handle one 



problem at the time so she ignored the look she knew he'd 



bent upon. Unfortunately, possibly because she saw that 



Dalia was leaving without her and she'd become accustomed 



to being only with Dalia, Claire chose that moment to object, 



loudly. 



    Dalia? Reuel exclaimed, jumping to his feet. 



    Sighing, Dalia glanced at Pierce. I'll meet you on the 



porch in a few minutes? 



    He shrugged. Sure. 



    When he'd left, she went back to Reuel, took the baby and 



then sat down in Reuel's lap. You're going to have to learn to 



handle this, she said. 



    He knew she wasn't referring only to the baby. I don't 



honestly know if I can. 



    She studied his face lovingly. Nothing is going to change 



the way I feel about you. Not even you. Turning the baby, 



she settled her against Reuel's shoulder. She's not used to 



you and it'll take time. Walk her and pat her back. Sing to her 



if you know a song. If that doesn't work, try bouncing her and 



if that doesn't work try shaking something sparkly in front of 



her face. I have a bottle all ready for her, and when she's 



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eaten, she'll go right to sleep. But you can't give it to her 



while she's upset. She'll choke or she just won't take it. 



    Reuel nodded. When she got up, he stood and started 



walking the baby. Dalia watched the two of them until she 



saw the baby had stopped crying and was staring at Reuel in 



blank-faced amazement and then slipped downstairs. 



    To her relief, Pierce was standing on the porch, leaning 



against one of the columns. When he saw her, he pushed 



away from the column and started pacing the porch. Sighing, 



she glanced around the porch and finally chose the rocking 



chair and sat down, rocking as she gazed out at the stars in 



the sky. 



    When Pierce finally stopped pacing and halted by her chair, 



she got up and gestured for him to take it. As soon as he'd 



settled himself, she climbed onto his lap. I'm used to Reuel 



being quiet and not talkative when he's angry. I don't like it, 



but I've leaned how to deal with it. You're not usually like 



this, though. 



    Pierce let out a gusty sigh, as if he'd been holding his 



breath. It tears me up, Dally. I don't know if I can handle 



this. I thought I could if you'd just give me a chance. Hell, I 



guess if it wasn't for the law I wouldn't have any chance at 



all. I knew there was something going on between the two of 



you from the first. I figured he'd probably fathered the baby, 



but I still, thought, maybe, there was a chance you felt 



something for me. 



    I've been crazy in love with you, Dally, since the first time 



I saw you. First it was the damn company's laws that kept me 



away from you, and now this. 



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    Dalia laid her head on his shoulder. You don't think it's 



possible to love more than one person? 



    Pierce was silent so long she'd begun to wonder if he 



would say anything at all. I don't know. 



    Humans do. 



    No, they don't. Some of them only love themselves, and 



some of them love someone, but none of them love more 



than one female or one male at the time. 



    So ... what you're saying is you think it's possible, but 



only one at the time? If you love one person and then begin 



to love another person, you have to stop loving the first one 



in order to be able to love the second? 



    I guess. You don't see humans taking on two partners, 



except when they're cheating on each other. 



    Dalia sighed. Maybe I feel this way because I'm not 



human, then. 



    Pierce swallowed audibly. You just told Reuel you loved 



him. You're saying, now, that you love me? 



    Dalia sat up and looked at him. Don't do that. 



    What? 



    Don't compare. If you don't believe me, or you don't want 



to, or you just can't, then I'll try to understand, but I know 



what I feel. I sought you out when we were on the ship 



because I knew you would take care of me, unquestioningly. 



    He sighed. I was that obvious. 



    No. I thought you might like to be more than friends, but 



I wasn't sure. I just knew you were my best friend and that I 



could count on you. 



    I don't want to be your friend, he said harshly. 



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    She caressed his cheek. It would hurt me indescribably if 



you stopped being my friend. I want you to be my partner, 



my lover, and my friend. If you chose someone else, I'd die 



every time I saw you with her. 



    He frowned. Well maybe you understand a little better 



how I feel. 



    She shook her head. You're wrong if you think I don't. I 



understand completely how you feel. What would you have 



me do? 



    He slipped an arm around her shoulders. We could leave. 



    A year from now. I have to choose a partner within the 



next six months. 



    He swallowed. Then choose me, Dally. We can leave 



before you have to choose another. 



    I love Claire. I couldn't leave her. 



    We'll take her. 



    She shook her head and scooted off his lap. I love Reuel 



too much to do that to him. Anyway I look at it, I have to 



hurt somebody that means a lot to me. I'm beginning to wish 



Reuel had just killed me when he caught me ... or that I 



hadn't woke up when the tech was about to. 



    I'll contract with both you and Reuel. Or I won't contract 



with either of you. 



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                         Chapter Twenty-One 



    Dalia was absolutely petrified when she, Reuel and Pierce 



entered the records office and signed a family unit contract. 



She could well imagine what the clerk thought of it, for both 



Reuel and Pierce looked more like condemned men at an 



execution than happy partners. 



    It was some relief to discover that they were the fourth 



party to do so. Dalia didn't think she could have handled it if 



they'd had to endure another first ceremony. 



    The three of them had finally sat down together and 



worked up partnership rules they felt like they could live with. 



Dalia could display her affection for either partner, in any way 



she chose, at any time, and neither of the other partners 



could express or display anger either during or afterward. If 



they didn't like it, they could walk it off, but they were not to 



deliberately provoke each other either by word or deed in 



regards to possessiveness or jealousy. 



    Any disputes arising from any other source, or for any 



other reason, would be settled however they wanted to settle 



them, outside, and never within view or hearing of the baby. 



For Claire, or any other children they were fortunate enough 



to have, they would present a unified, civil, reasonably 



content family unit. 



    The three of them would continue to have their own room. 



The baby would sleep in the room with whomever was 



supposed to keep her on any given night until she reached a 



stage in development where she could have her own room. 



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    Sexual congress between Dalia and her two partners was 



to be as fair and even as she could make it so that neither of 



her partners felt as if they were favored above the other. 



    It sounded workable in theory. Dalia wasn't at all sure it 



would, but they were about to find out. After the signing, they 



decided to dine out to celebrate. Claire enjoyed the first thirty 



minutes and began to fuss as soon as the food arrived. It was 



Dalia's night to keep her, but, in the spirit of their new 



partnership, Pierce offered to hold her while Dalia ate. 



    When they returned home, Dalia looked at both her 



hopeful partners and smiled apologetically. Tonight's Claire's 



night, she said, shrugging. Seeing that both of them were 



about to object, she added, I'd rather not be interrupted and 



have to get up and walk the baby. 



    Pierce and Reuel exchanged a look. Cards or chess? 



Pierce asked. 



    Feeling far more hopeful that they might actually manage 



a comfortable relationship between the three of them, Dalia 



retreated to the room with the baby. Claire slept for the first 



time without waking once, but Dalia found she was having a 



good bit of trouble sleeping. The following day was to be 



Reuel's day to keep Claire and she found she was both 



excited and nervous about spending her first night with 



Pierce. 



    She tried to dismiss it. It seemed absurd to feel so jittery 



when she'd always felt so comfortable around him, but it 



continued to plague her dreams even after she slept and, 



despite the fact that she was busy the following day, it only 



got worse as the day wore on. 



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    She supposed, deep down, that she was worried that they 



might not click as well in bed as they did the rest of the time, 



and that Pierce would be disappointed in her. Or, perhaps 



worse, she would find that they weren't sexually compatible 



and might have trouble convincing Pierce that she found him 



as desirable as she did Reuel. 



    Whatever the case, when she finally realized that she, 



Reuel and Pierce were all watching the clock that evening, she 



decided to go to her room and try to reach a state of calm. 



There was a great deal to be said for a hot soak over the 



perfectly balanced temp of a particle bath. Bathing in water 



had its own drawbacks, but the soothing power of water could 



not be underestimated. 



    She soaked until she heard Reuel leave the living area with 



the baby. She didn't want her time with Pierce spoiled any 



more than vice versa and she thought the best way to avoid it 



was to make certain she didn't run into Reuel on the way to 



Pierce's room. 



    Hopefully, once she was with Pierce, she'd be able to focus 



on him and not think about the fact that Reuel was most 



likely in the other room gnashing his teeth. 



    She was so jittery, she dropped the gown she'd chosen 



twice before she managed to pull it over her head. All the 



sleeping gowns she'd bartered for since she'd arrived in 



Gallen were beautiful and alluring, to her mind at least, and 



all so sheer she felt the next thing to naked. She thought, 



perhaps, that something a little more conservative would 



make her feel less anxious, however, and chose the one that 



fell all the way to her ankles. Slipping her arms into the 



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matching robe, she took several slow, deep breaths to calm 



her nerves and moved to the door. 



    She was more than a little disconcerted to discover the 



sitting room was empty and dark. Hesitant now, she stared at 



Pierce's closed door, wondering if she should go to him or not 



and finally shook her doubts off and crossed the room, 



tapping lightly on his door. 



    He opened it almost at once. He was bare foot, and bare 



chested, as if he'd been on the point of undressing for bed. 



Dalia swallowed nervously, wondering if she'd never actually 



seen him half naked before or she just hadn't noticed before 



how beautifully sculpted his body was. She felt her heart 



flutter nervously in her chest as his gaze slid slowly down her 



length and then up again. Without a word, he grasped her 



hand and pulled her into the room. They stood toe to toe, 



staring at one another for several moments. Finally, nerving 



herself, Dalia lifted a hand to his chest. 



    He jumped when she touched him. Your hands are cold, 



he murmured, catching her hand between his and rubbing it. 



    Dalia bit her lip. Tugging her hand free, she dropped it to 



her side, gripping the folds of the gown. I'm scar ... 



nervous, she amended. 



    A slow smile curled his lips. Lifting a shaking hand, he 



slipped it along her shoulder, curling his fingers around her 



neck and tugging her toward him as he leaned down. Never 



be afraid of me, Dally, he murmured, plucking almost 



playfully at her lips with his own. 



    Mesmerized, Dalia went perfectly still, holding her breath 



as warmth flowed through her veins. His ragged breath, 



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sawing in and out of his mouth, brushed hers, mingled, 



flooded through her as she sucked in her breath sharply. 



    He lifted his head, slipped his hands along her shoulders 



and down to her waist. Pulling the belt free, he pushed the 



robe from her shoulders. It fell to the floor with the faintest 



whisper of sound. He looked the gown over, skated his hands 



over her breasts, cupping them, and finally hooked his fingers 



in the thin fabric at the neck of the gown and pushed it from 



her shoulders, as well. It slithered down her body, caught 



briefly on her distended nipples and then slipped free, settling 



around her hips. 



    He swallowed audibly as stared at her, finally lifting his 



hands and tracing the slope of her breasts with the lightest of 



touches, almost as if he was afraid to touch her, or feared she 



would vanish at his touch. You're so beautiful, Dally, he 



whispered hoarsely. 



    Something warm and poignant traveled through her, not 



so much at his words but the way that he said them, that 



brought a hard knot of pain into her chest. To her horror, she 



felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked them rapidly, trying to 



dispel them, but he saw. 



    His face twisted. We don't have to do this, Dally. 



    She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak, and 



surged toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist. He 



wrapped his arms around her without hesitation, rocking her 



slightly. 



    It's all right, baby. Shhh. 



    It's not all right, she managed. 



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    He pulled a little away from her and scooped her into his 



arms. Carrying her to the bed, he sat down on the edge with 



her on his lap and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. 



No tears, Dally, he ordered, giving her a mock serious 



frown. 



    She sniffed, tried to smile and managed something more 



like a grimace. 



    He chuckled. Was that supposed to be a smile? 



    She chuckled, then sniffed again. I don't suppose I could 



convince you to lay with me and cuddle? 



    Grimacing, he released her and very carefully adjusted her 



gown, then took a deep, shuddering breath as if he were 



about to dive under water. Anything for my Dally, he said. 



Turning, he dropped her onto the bed and then lay down 



beside her on his back. Tucking his hands behind his head, he 



stared up at the ceiling as she scooted close against his side 



and laid her cheek on his chest. 



    I'm sorry, she murmured, stroking the little patch of dark 



blond hair that grew in the center of his chest. 



    He caught her fingers, holding her hand still. She could 



feel his heart beneath her fingertips, pounding hard and fast. 



He was holding his breath, struggling to regulate his rapid 



heartbeat. I know. You always were too kindhearted for your 



own good, Dalia. 



    She thought it over and chuckled. I'm a rogue hunter, 



Pierce. No one's ever accused me of being softhearted. 



    He threw her a feigned frown and then smote his head. 



No wait! You're right! That was another female. Grinning, 



he rolled over onto his side, facing her. You're the one that 



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used to look so smug every time you beat the shit out of me 



in training. 



    I never did! Dalia said indignantly. 



    He laughed. Ah ha! So you to admit you never beat me! 



    The comment surprised a chuckle out of her. They'd only 



been paired off twice and she'd beaten him both times. I was 



never smug about it. I knew I beat you because you couldn't 



get your mind off of my breasts. Smiling, she reached up 



and traced his laugh lines, wondering why it was that it had 



taken her so long to realize she loved him. 



    Shifting up on one arm, she pushed him onto his back 



once more and flicked the tip of her tongue back and forth 



across one male nipple a couple of times. Pierce sucked in his 



breath harshly, his fingers clenching in her hair. Don't. 



    She lifted her head to look up at him. 



    He swallowed with an effort. I don't have that much self- 



control, Dally. 



    Holding his gaze, she dipped her head once more and 



flicked her tongue across his other nipple. 



    He rolled, pushing her to her back, and lay half on top of 



her. There was no longer even a trace of amusement on his 



features. Dalia slipped her hands down to cup his buttocks 



and arched upward, grinding her mound against the hard 



ridge of flesh that lay across his belly. His face twisted with 



painful pleasure. Dally! he said breathlessly. 



    I love you, Pierce, she murmured throatily, arching 



against him again. Make love to me. 



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    He stared down at her, obviously torn. Don't ask me to 



stop again, Dally. I don't think I can, he ground out between 



clenched teeth. 



    I don't want you to stop. I want to feel this inside of me, 



she murmured, slipping her hand between them and delving 



beneath his trousers to curl her fingers around his hardened 



flesh. 



    He groaned. Leaning down, he covered her mouth with his. 



The moment he did, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. He 



made a muffled sound from deep in his chest and sucked it, 



sending a dizzying tide of heat through her. Massaging his 



phallus, she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked it. 



    Shuddering, he broke the kiss and leaned slightly away 



from her, studying her face. She opened her eyes with an 



effort and looked up at him. 



    Rolling off of her, he pushed his trousers down his hips and 



nudged them off, then turned to her and stripped her gown 



off. Tossing it aside, he ran a shaking hand over her almost 



reverently from her shoulder to her hip and then up again, 



cupping one breast. Dalia moaned in pleasure as he kneaded 



it in his hand and finally leaned down and covered the tip with 



his mouth, teasing the sensitive bud of tight flesh until she 



was breathless before moving to its mate and teasing that 



nipple with equal thoroughness. 



    Moving restlessly beneath him she caressed his arm, his 



shoulders, his back, every part of him that she could reach. 



Closing her eyes tightly, she felt the smoothness of his flesh 



beneath her palm and fingertips, the hard ridges of muscle. 



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The muscles in her passage quivered, tensed, clenching and 



unclenching as if reaching for him. Now, Pierce. 



    He lifted his head and looked at her, and then followed her 



gaze downward. Watching her hand as she parted her thighs 



wide and slipped it between her legs, parting the flesh for his 



gaze. He shifted down the bed. Sitting back on his heels, he 



caught her knees and pushed them upward, watching the 



movements of her fingers. After a moment, he grasped his 



sex and pushed the tip slowly inside of her, watching as her 



flesh parted for him, absorbed him. Leaning over her, he 



scooped an arm beneath her hips and pressed slowly inside 



her and then, just as slowly, withdrew. 



    Dalia leaned up to watch the joining of their flesh as well, 



felt her entire body tighten with desire as he continued to 



move slowly in and out, tantalizing her with the skate of his 



hard flesh inside of her. Groaning, she fell back, arched her 



head into the pillow. He released a harsh breath and drove 



deeply, grinding his hips against her, sending shards of 



exquisite pleasure through her as he rubbed against her clit. 



Oh, Dalia moaned. Like that, Pierce. She licked her lips, 



digging her fingers into his arms. 



    His arms began to shake with effort as he continued 



thrusting into her, pushing deeply and grinding his hips 



against her clit and then retreating. She caught his hips, 



urging him to move faster, to delve deeper as she hovered, 



suspended in a poignant torment of pleasure. A little cry 



escaped her as the first ripples of release shuddered through 



her. As if he'd been holding himself only for that, he settled 



his weight on top of her, opening his mouth over hers and 



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absorbing her cries of delight as he pumped inside of her in 



short, hard thrusts. 



    Her release seemed to go on endlessly, the convulsions of 



her body so hard she felt blackness edge in on her. A thin 



sheen of sweat beaded his back when he shuddered once last 



time and fell still, lying heavily against her. She stroked his 



hair and back lovingly in appreciation, enjoying the feel of his 



weight. 



    Dragging in a final deep breath, he slid his arms around 



her and rolled over until she was lying on top of him. He 



stroked her back, her buttocks. 



    A shiver skated over her as her body cooled. 



    Cold? 



    Only my back. My front's warmth, she murmured, 



smiling against his shoulder, feeling far too lazy to move. 



    Chuckling, he dumped her onto the bed and dragged the 



covers down, pushing and pulling at her until he had her 



arranged beneath the covers. When he was finally situated to 



his satisfaction, he gathered her against his side once more. 



Better? 



    Mmmm, she said, almost purring. 



    He stroked her shoulder and back, slowly, mesmerizingly. 



    Dally? 



    Mmm? 



    He was silent for several moments. Why did you cry? 



Because it ... because it felt wrong? 



    Sighing, she lifted her head to look at him, shaking her 



head slowly. Because I spent most of the night last night, 



and all day worrying about what you'd said, wondering if I 



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really did love you ... that way, or only as the dearest of 



friends. And then, when you kissed me, it felt so very, very 



right, that I knew you were wrong and I'd been worrying 



about nothing. She skated a hand down his stomach and ran 



it over his flaccid member. I love you just exactly that way, 



she said, smiling in satisfaction as she felt his cock grow 



beneath her palm. 



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                         Chapter Twenty-Two 



    Despite her best efforts to tamp the afterglow of their 



night together in consideration of Reuel's feelings, she 



couldn't think that she'd been altogether successful, but then 



Pierce made no effort at all to hide his satisfaction. Every time 



she looked at him he was grinning, and every time he 



happened to catch her looking at him, a dull red blush would 



creep up his cheeks. 



    Reuel spent most of the day in the fields. 



    For months it seesawed like that, with first one and then 



the other wavering from fair mood to foul. After a time, 



however, they managed to rub along without so much tension 



when both Reuel and Pierce saw that she was true to her 



word and lavished attention upon them in equal parts. 



    On the first anniversary of their contract, they decided to 



celebrate in the city as they had celebrated the signing. 



Claire, a year old and often saying some really embarrassing 



things, sat in her chair like a little angel and managed to draw 



looks of approval as well as admiration, and even, Dalia 



thought, just a little envy from the couples sharing the 



restaurant with their own infants, who were as fussy as Claire 



had been the first time they'd come. 



    They were almost through with their dinner when she 



realized that tonight was her night to be with Reuel. She sent 



him a speculative glance, wondering what she might do to 



make it extra special for him since it was their anniversary. 



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    Unfortunately, nothing really enterprising came to mind. 



Sighing in frustration, she glanced from Reuel to Pierce, 



who'd been unusually quiet. He was holding Claire in his 



arms, stroking her soft cheek with one finger, a faint smile on 



his lips as he studied her sleeping face. 



    A rush of love for both of them filled her, and then the 



realization that what she really wanted was to spend the night 



with both of her partners. 



    She wasn't entirely certain they were ready for that, but 



she decided, if the opportunity arose she would test the 



waters. It was Pierce's night to watch the baby, but she 



usually went right to bed now and hardly ever woke. 



    When they reached the plantation, Pierce led the way 



upstairs and took the baby to her room. Dalia trailed along 



behind him, casting a provocative glance over her shoulder at 



Reuel as she reached the upper landing and crossed the living 



area to her room. 



    She soaked in a hot bath, feeling the strain of the day slip 



away and the tension of anticipation take its place. Then she 



bathed in soap scented with flowers. When she'd finished, she 



dried herself and walked naked into the bedroom. The gown 



she'd chosen for Reuel lay across the bed where she'd left it. 



Lifting it by the shoulders, she examined the material with a 



sense of satisfaction. It looked as if it had been fashioned of 



gossamer. As she turned it, light gleamed off of it like 



sunlight on dew. 



    Separating the thin fabric, she pulled it over her head and 



went to study the effect in the mirror critically. The dark 



fabric lay like a shadow over her skin. Her nipples and the 



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dark, curling hair between her thighs were as clearly visible 



as if only mist preserved her from nakedness. The neckline 



plunged halfway to her navel. The hem stopped at the tops of 



her thighs. Turning, she saw it fell short of covering the 



cheeks of her ass by a good two inches. 



    She felt aroused just wearing it. 



    She was fairly confident Reuel would find itinteresting. 



    He was lounging on the couch when she reached the living 



area, his arms propped behind his head, his legs sprawled on 



the top of the low table in front the couch. He glanced at her 



lazily where she stood in the doorway, watching him. His eyes 



glittered as his gaze slid up her as sensuously as a caress. 



    Pushing away from the door, she walked languidly toward 



him. He didn't move. He looked as if he was holding his 



breath. Turning when she reached him, she lifted one leg over 



his and straddled his lap. Sliding backwards slowly over the 



hard ridge beneath her buttocks, she lifted her feet and 



hooked her heels on the edge of the cushions, then leaned 



back against his chest. Lifting a hand to his cheek, she turned 



her face against his neck, breathing in his scent, nuzzling his 



ear with her nose, then tracing the swirls of his ear with the 



tip of her tongue. 



    He expelled a harsh breath and brought his arms down, 



dropping one on her flat belly. He slipped his other hand 



through the neck of her gown and strummed the edge of his 



thumb back and forth across her nipple until it stood erect, 



then pinched the erect nipple between his thumb and 



forefinger, plucking at it almost lazily. 



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    Heat cascaded over Dalia's chest and belly like warm wine, 



intoxicating her. She sucked his earlobe between her lips, 



nipping at it gently with her teeth. 



    Shifting slightly, he lifted his hand from her belly and 



curled his fingers around her cheek and the back of her neck, 



plucking at her lips with his own teasingly before he opened 



his mouth over hers. 



    The sound of footfalls on thick carpet penetrated the haze 



of passion and both stiffened as they came near, then paused 



abruptly. Reuel's hand tightened on her when she would have 



pulled away, but she knew even without looking that Pierce 



had stumbled upon them. 



    She felt him watching. 



    Moist heat flooded her passage in a gush as her mind 



seemed to float free of her body and she found herself looking 



down upon the three of them; at Reuel, fondling her breast, 



kissing her, her legs splayed wantonly on either side of his 



thighs; at Pierce, mesmerized by the sight and unable to pull 



his gaze away. 



    She kissed Reuel back when he would have pulled away, 



slipping her tongue between his lips and exploring his mouth 



as he had hers. He groaned, arching his hips upward as he 



sucked at her tongue so that his rigid flesh dug into the cleft 



of her buttocks. Her short gown rode higher as he placed his 



feet on the floor. Slowly, he pushed her thighs apart, 



spreading them until the coolness of air licked along the 



heated, sensitive flesh of her sex and she felt the damp petals 



yielding gradually to the pressure of his knees against her 



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thighs, opening like the deep pink petals of a dew laden 



flower. 



    When Reuel broke the kiss at last, he slipped his hand 



down her throat and beneath the neck of her gown to pluck at 



the nipple neglected of his attentions. Dalia moaned, arching 



her head against his shoulder even as she lifted heavy lids to 



gaze at Pierce across the room. 



    As if he sensed her watching him, he dragged his gaze 



upwards from her sex and met hers. She arched her body 



against the teasing torment of Reuel's hands, beckoning him 



closer. He swallowed as Reuel released one nipple and slipped 



that hand down her belly, raking a thick index finger along 



her cleft, smoothing the petals of flesh wide so that cool air 



blew across her body's opening. 



    Dalia gasped, squeezing her eyes closed as Reuel's touch 



sent a sharp knife of pleasure through her, making the 



muscles of her channel quake and clench with anticipation. 



When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Pierce had 



moved closer, his gaze riveted to the movements of Reuel's 



hand as he plucked and teased her clit, slipped his thick index 



finger inside of her, moving it slowly in and out before he 



traced her cleft again. 



    He shifted her on his lap, shoving his trousers down his 



hips far enough he could grasp his erection and free it. His 



cock landed, thick and heavy, against her cleft as he released 



his hold on it. He pressed his hand against it, rocking her hips 



so that his cock slid teasingly along her cleft. She moved with 



him for several moments. Finally, catching Pierce's gaze, she 



pushed Reuel's hand away and wrapped her fingers around 



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his thick cock. Lifting up slightly, she pressed the rounded 



head inside of her. A rush of pleasure went through her. 



Bearing down with careful pressure, she worked his erection 



deeper, then lifted once more, feeling the flesh of her sex 



yield, and then cling to him. 



    Reuel groaned, and she heard Pierce swallow audibly, 



heard the rush of his breath. Spreading her thighs wider, she 



leaned forward, bracing her palms on Reuel's knees and 



bearing down with slow, deliberate pressure until she felt his 



cock stretching her to her limits. Catching her buttocks in his 



hands, Reuel arched upward even as he bore down on her, 



sinking more deeply still. A groan of pleasure scraped along 



her throat. She arched her head back, feeling her breasts 



sway with the movement, swinging free of the gaping neck of 



her gown. 



    When she managed to open her eyes again, she saw that 



Pierce was absently rubbing his cock, his gaze on her swaying 



breasts. She lifted up, allowing Reuel's cock to slide out of her 



until only the head remained inside, until Pierce could see 



where their bodies joined. 



    She licked her lips. Let me see it, she said huskily. 



    Pierce's startled gaze moved to meet hers, but after only a 



brief hesitation, he pushed his trousers down his hips and 



kicked them off, freeing his cock, massaging it. Groaning at 



the heat that went through her, Dalia pressed down again, 



forcing Reuel's cock deeply inside of her. Again, he arched to 



meet her, bearing down on her buttocks harder than before. 



She squeezed her eyes shut, arching her head back as 



pleasure akin to pain tore through her. 



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    She sensed that Pierce had moved close moments before 



she felt his mouth open over the tip of one undulating breast. 



He sucked her nipple hard, sending another harsh jolt of 



pleasure through her as she lifted her hips high and then 



pushed down again. She whimpered in pleasure, her mind 



black with it, her body feeling as if it was on fire as Reuel 



forced her into a faster rhythm, each time allowing his cock to 



slide almost completely from her body before driving it almost 



painfully deep. 



    And all the while, Pierce sucked first one nipple and then 



the other, teased them with his tongue, until she began to 



struggle to keep her climax at bay, striving to hold onto the 



pleasure just a little longer. 



    Just when she thought she couldn't hold back any longer, 



Pierce ceased his sweet torment of her nipples. With an 



effort, she opened her eyes. 



    He was kneeling in front of her, massaging his cock. She 



leaned forward as Reuel began pounding into her harder and 



harder, reaching for his own culmination. Flicking her tongue 



out, she dragged it slowly over the rounded tip of his cock, 



licking the sensitive head with slow deliberation. He groaned, 



gripping her shoulder, shifting slightly closer. She opened her 



mouth over him, sucking the head of his cock and then 



running her tongue around the sensitive ridge at its base. 



    A jolt of heat went through her. Pierce groaned, his fingers 



clenching in her hair. 



    Lifting her hands from Reuel's knees, she caught Pierce's 



hips, pulling him toward her as she opened her mouth wide to 



take his erection fully inside her mouth. He shuddered, began 



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to move his cock in and out of her mouth, matching the 



jolting rhythm that Reuel set as he pumped his cock into her 



harder and faster, and so deeply each thrust sent another 



shaft of mind numbing, almost painful pleasure through her 



until she whimpered with the effort to contain it. 



    His fingers clenching and unclenching on her shoulder, 



Pierce shook as she held his erection tightly in her mouth, 



resisting his thrust and retreat, sucking on him as her body 



hovered on the verge of release. Abruptly, Dalia felt her belly 



clench, spasm with the first waves of culmination. She 



groaned, sucking Pierce's cock harder as it washed over her 



in increasingly hard waves. His cock jerked in her mouth as 



he reached his own crisis. Feeling his effort to withdraw, she 



dug her fingers into his buttocks, sucking him harder, 



refusing to release him as his crisis fed her own pleasure. He 



lost the battle, cried out hoarsely as his body convulsed in 



release and his hot seed spewed into her mouth. She sucked 



him greedily, gripping him until his body ceased to spasm in 



release. 



    With a growl of satisfaction, Reuel rammed deeply inside of 



her, bearing down on her hips as his orgasm spilled from him 



in convulsing waves. 



    Releasing her hold on Pierce at last, Dalia braced her 



shaking arms on Reuel's knees, panting for breath. Pierce sat 



back, bracing his fists on the table on either side of him, his 



head drooping forward on his shoulders as he, too, struggled 



to catch his breath. I thought you were going to kill me, he 



muttered hoarsely. 



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    Gathering herself, Dalia pushed back until she was leaning 



against Reuel's chest once more, caressing his cheek as she 



studied Pierce. It was good for me, too, she said, stretching 



in satisfaction. 



    Pierce looked up at her a long moment and finally shook 



his head. Smiling faintly, he got up, snatched his trousers 



from the floor and departed. 



    Reuel grunted. Did you enjoy yourself? he asked, 



keeping his voice carefully neutral. 



    Dalia twisted around until she was seated across his lap. 



You didn't? 



    A shiver skated through him. He caressed her cheek, 



dropping a light kiss on her forehead and then her eyelids. 



Immensely. But on my nights, I want you all to myself. 



    Chuckling, she looped her arms around his neck. I'm all 



yours. 



    His eyes gleamed. Slipping one arm around her back, and 



one beneath her knees, he stood up and strode into his 



bedroom with her. You're incorrigible, he muttered. 



    She laughed. I'm not. I'm very, very good. And that was 



an anniversary present, for both of you, from me, with all my 



love. 



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                                 Epilogue 



    Dalia felt like purring with satisfaction. There were a lot of 



reasons for it. 



    The first had been her first real dinner. She'd spent most 



of the day in the kitchen studying a computer screen to 



prepare the meal she'd planned. It was nothing short of 



amazing that it had been successful. She'd learned to use the 



strange cooking machines Reuel had in his house months ago, 



learned to use them adequately, not well. 



    On her cooking days, she managed to prepare a 



reasonably nutritious meal that was reasonably edible, but 



there was no getting around the fact that both Reuel and 



Pierce were much better at cooking than she was. 



    She had something special to announce tonight, however, 



and she'd decided that the best way to go about it was to 



feed them well, then fuck them well, and then, when they 



were completely mellowed and putty in her hands she would 



make her announcement. 



    They were surprised when they saw she'd set the table in 



the formal dining room downstairs, amazed at the beauty and 



variety of the dishes she set on the table. But they were 



absolutely stunned when they discovered that the food 



actually tasted good, too. 



    When she'd settled Claire for the night, she went into her 



room and prepared for phase two. 



    Reuel and Pierce were in the middle of a game of chess 



when she strolled from the room and sat down on the couch, 



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too involved to begin with to notice her. Finally, Reuel had 



glanced toward her with a smile on his face that froze. Pierce, 



alerted by Reuel's expression, glanced at her and then did a 



double take. 



    She smiled at them, wagging her knees casually. 



    The two men exchanged a look, as if they were trying to 



figure out who the invitation was for. Both, Dalia 



murmured, crooking her finger at them as she got up and 



headed back to her room. 



    They'd only engaged in a three way twice before and both 



times it had been, mostly, an accidental encounter. She'd 



never summoned them both and they glanced at each other 



uncomfortably for several moments before they both rose 



abruptly and followed Dalia into her room. 



    She was lying on the bed, propped up on one arm. 



    Pierce skimmed out of his clothing and joined her before 



Reuel had his boots off. 



    Grinding his teeth, Reuel finished undressing and moved to 



the other side of the bed, skating his hand down her back and 



cupping her buttocks. She rolled onto her back when Pierce 



broke the kiss and Reuel took the opportunity to fondle her 



breasts, teasing them with his fingers. Pierce watched as he 



leaned down to suckle one nipple and abruptly moved to the 



end of the bed. Catching Dalia's legs, he parted them and 



covered her mound with his mouth. 



    Dalia gasped, feeling her body rocket from desire to 



mindless passion within seconds as they teased her with 



equal finesse, unable to focus on any one point of stimulation 



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as their mouths worked magic on her body and it climbed 



screamingly toward release. 



    Gasping, she squeezed her eyes closed and allowed her 



body to respond without restraint. Within moments, jolts of 



pleasure went through her as her body convulsed in release. 



    When she opened her eyes, she saw that both of them 



were studying her. 



    Weakly, she rolled onto her side and then got up on her 



knees. Pushing Reuel to his back, she caught his cock in her 



hand and ran her tongue around the head, sucked it, licked it 



again. He gripped the bed, groaning. 



    For several moments, Pierce merely sat back on his heels, 



watching. Finally, he moved around behind her and pushed 



her legs apart, pushing inside of her. She groaned, feeling her 



belly clench, feeling it burgeon with renewed need. Moving 



slowly at first, and then more quickly as their desire built, 



they pleasured one another. 



    Her second climax hit her harder than the first, went on 



longer. She groaned as it washed over her, moving over 



Reuel greedily, until her urgency communicated itself to him 



and his body began to convulse with his own release. Pierce 



gripped her hips harder and raced to meet his crisis even as 



the last echoes of her climax began to fade. 



    Sated, exhausted, they collapsed on the bed together in a 



tangle of arms and legs. 



    Dalia rolled to her back, her head on Reuel's stomach, 



drowsing slightly as Reuel smoothed her hair. Pierce shifted 



and dropped his head on her stomach, caressing her hip and 



thigh. 



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    Dalia sighed. The only thing she liked better than sex with 



Reuel, or Pierce, was sex with Reuel and Pierce. She thought 



about and amended it to sometimes. 



    We're going to have a baby, she said. 



    Both Reuel and Pierce sat up abruptly, dumping her onto 



the bed. 



    Whose? they said almost in stereo. 



    Dalia chuckled and glanced at Reuel lovingly. He'd been 



undergoing experimental treatments they hoped would make 



him capable of producing viable sperm. He'd never actually 



said anything after that one time when he'd admitted that he 



hadn't been capable of impregnating her, but she knew it 



tormented him to think he couldn't. 



    When she glanced at Pierce finally, she saw that he was 



trying not to look crestfallen. Sitting up, she put one arm 



around Pierce's neck, and one around Reuel's. Leaning close 



to Reuel, she kissed his cheek. Yours. She turned to Pierce 



and kissed his lips. And yours. 



    They looked at her blankly. Mine or his? 



    Sometimes they sounded like twins. 



    Both, she clarified. 



    Reuel and Pierce exchanged a confused, and not very 



pleased, glance. We both did it? Is that even possible? 



    Dalia started laughing. You ask me this when we started 



out as machines on an assembly line? 



    They still looked more stunned than thrilled. Leaning back, 



she caught one of Reuel's hands and one of Pierce's and 



carefully placed them on her belly. The boy is Reuel's. The 



girl is yours, Pierce. 



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                                 The End 



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