Avion (Cyborgs: More Than Machines, #7) (4 page)

She couldn’t help but shiver. How strange. Her temperature, while a little elevated, shouldn’t have provoked such a reaction.

He’s the one doing it.
His words caused her body to react. Attraction was the theory of her inner voice, but other than the shiver, it could provide no empirical proof.

Seth, assisted by Laura, who had appeared at one point, punctured her skin—only because she allowed it. Early on in her rebirth, her mentor had taught her the art of shielding, how to make an energy barrier to repel objects, like needles or bullets. But in this instance, she didn’t activate her self-defense mechanism and allowed them to run an IV line. She glanced for a brief moment at the suspended tube, marveling at the rich vermillion that flowed from her, spiraling and arcing before entering Avion.

Thank you.

His heartfelt thanks tickled her. It warmed her in a way she wasn’t familiar with, but liked.

It didn’t take much blood or very long to see a difference. His pallor went from gray to a healthy flesh tone. He breathed easier. His heart adopted a regular rhythm.

“I don’t believe it. I think it’s working. His levels are stabilizing. And hot damn, the bleeding from the gunshot is stopping.” Seth couldn’t stem his happiness at Avion’s recovery.

Laura, a scientist who had also escaped the military, peered at Avion and palpated him.

Lilith restrained herself from slapping her hands. It seemed she had some strong protective instincts when it came to Avion.
The female is only trying to help him.
But if she did anything to hurt him...

Stay calm, vixen. We’re all friends here.

Avion’s mental touch soothed her, and Lilith turned her attention from the groping doctor to the machines hooked to Avion. They posted numbers, things like heart rate, blood pressure, brain activity. Who needed all that useless data when the physical evidence spoke for itself?

The change was slow.

An immediate improvement didn’t mean everything cured quickly. It took time for nanos to fully infiltrate a human system.

Bit by bit, her healthy nanotech flushed the dead bots in Avion’s body and repairs to the damage in his body began, if sluggishly.

Just in time, too, because those alien ships were back, this time with a few extra reinforcements.

Look at that, they’ve brought friends. Goody. Fun. Fun.
Giggle.

Oops, she might have let out that strange inner chuckle. She tried to stifle that other person, the one who lived inside and who laughed inappropriately. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t quite quell that illogical inner voice with its penchant to indulge in irrational decisions—and get her into trouble. Logic was the building stone to a harmonious life and world.

Or it should be.

Lilith really had to wonder about her mentor’s teachings, given she’d indulged in rational thought, and yet her life seemed anything but harmonious.
It’s a bloody hellish existence. Admit it.

She really needed to find a better method to gag that inner voice.

However, first the alien threat. These new arrivals weren’t running after them, trying to play catch-up.

No. These fighters were cunning and held a position of blockade just ahead. They’d set a trap.

It’s not a trap if we know about it. Evade it and use it against them.

But to do that, she had to... “I need to speak with the commander. I need access to the ship. The enemy has been sighted.”

She didn’t wait for permission or a reply. She tugged the IV from her arm before rising from the bed.

She’d done her part.
How generous of me. I did a good thing.
Already Avion improved. He just needed fresh blood from the source. From me.
Lilith.

Where is my Garden of Eden? I could use another bite of the proverbial apple of knowledge. I know so much. So little. I must open my eyes and truly see what I cannot perceive.

Namely, she needed to figure out how to be,
me.

As she exited the location labeled as medical bay on the diagram layouts for the ship, she took a sharp left and followed the corridor. It took a bit of time to reach her destination as she took four more lefts, two rights, and a jog up a flight of stairs all because she couldn’t bring herself to enter the confined cabin of the elevator.

Eventually she reached her destination. A door barring her way irritated her. Open, sesame seed bun. Special sauce. Lettuce, cheese. She really had an urge for a McDonald’s Big Mac, which was odd because she’d only ever tasted one smuggled in to her by a nurse, along with cold salty fries and an actual soda. How she’d loved that forbidden taste and for months after, craved it.

She waved her hand, and the door slid open. She strode in and met the muzzle of a projectile firearm.

“How in hell did you get inside?” Aramus barked. “I put the bridge access and all essential doors on repel, in case we were boarded.”

That flimsy lock was supposed to repel? He needed a better security system. “I told the access panel I wanted in.” Lilith wondered what the hint in her voice conveyed. Had she managed a smidge of sarcasm? The eye roll she performed was a touch disturbing. Normally her eyes behaved themselves.

“You asked, and it just...” Aramus trailed off. “You know what, I don’t want to know how you did it. Instead, I’d like to know, what the fuck did we get into? Girl—”

“I am called Lilith now.”

“Whatever the bloody hell your name is, what are you?”

“I am Lilith.”

“Which is what?”

“The sum of who I am.”

She noted a lot of silence and blinking. Given their vast differences, did the cyborgs not see their individuality? Before she was One. Unique and alone. Now she was Lilith, unique, and still just one, but able to interact with other uniques.
You really need to chill out,
her inner voice chided.

“I have no idea what that means, so I’m going to move on. I suppose since you’re here maybe I should see if you’ve got any skills or if you’re more useless than an eyeball on my ass.”

“I would think an orb in that posterior position wouldn’t provide much advantage, especially given the vestments covering said location.”

“Two words for you, lady. Lighten up.”

“As in—”

A stranger sitting at a console, to her left, placed her hand on Lilith’s arm. Unexpected and startling.

Lilith almost reacted, but held back. She didn’t break or incinerate the appendage.

She chalked it up as an accomplishment on her reintegration with other beings. Thou shalt not kill. One of the Ten Commandments. As good as any to start with, especially given her biblical choice of name.

But she wasn’t sure what she’d do about the ‘honor thy father’ one.

He deserved everything I did.

So sorry, Daddy.

Sob. Giggle.

Sigh. Her mind was such a complicated place. How to sort the emotions and find right from wrong?

She focused on the task at hand. “We are within less than one hour until we encounter a blockade of
D’zpi
. They outgun this vessel.”

“But they can’t outsmart us,” Aramus said as he flung himself into the commander’s seat and eyed the screen, which projected a visual display of their current location in relation to other objects, including the raiders.

“The most efficient exit from this system lies through them. If we can slide through their offensive perimeter, then we can slingshot via the forming black hole,” Lilith offered a possible solution.

“You want us to play with a black hole?” Aramus repeated.

“We will use its gravitational pull to project our vessel past this solar system.”

“And you’ve done this before?” he asked.

“I might not have essayed this outside of simulation before, but I know all the theories behind it.”

“I am vastly reassured.”

She didn’t need to analyze his voice patterns to hear the heavy sarcasm in his tone. He doubted her. Well then, she’d just have to show him.

A
vion blinked, and the image glitched.

Wait a second. Image?

His eyelids were shut over his cybernetic orbs, but that was normal during a reboot. What had him cautiously optimistic was he no longer stared at a dark screen. Numbers scrolled against the inside of his eyelids as his digital receptors came back on line.

Will I get to see again?

Was it totally unmanly to admit the answer scared him? He’d definitely lose his cyborg—scourge-of-the-galaxy—membership card if his brothers ever found out. Yet, unmanly or not, he couldn’t help the trepidation. What if it didn’t work? What if—

He slowly forced his lids open.

Light made him blink. Shut. Open. More light. A ceiling with a bright lamp suspended.

I can see!

He angled his head to his left and noted the empty bed alongside him. He looked the other way and let out a very emasculating and human sound. “Eep!”

Hovering only inches from his face was Seth, a wide grin plastered on his mug. “Surprise! Aren’t you glad to see me?”

Not exactly. He’d have preferred someone else. “Hey, Seth.”

“Dude, look at you, looking at me. The rising dead. It’s a miracle. I’ll admit a part of me was skeptical about the whole blood transfusion thing.”

Join the club. He wasn’t the only skeptic. As he propped himself to a sitting position, Avion winced. “Worked, but I’m still only partially fixed. While I might not be knocking on death’s door, it’s taking time for the nanos to reach the point they were before.” While nanos could do wondrous things, replicating themselves by the thousands, even with him imbibing huge amounts of food—ores, liquids, anything really—would take time. While vastly improved, his damaged system was far from repaired.

“So you take it slow for a few days. It’s good to see you back.” Seth leaned in for a hug.

Avion allowed it. While he’d never admit it aloud, he did find tactile pleasure in a hug. And, besides, Seth wasn’t a guy to piss off. He might seem nice on the outside, but one day he’d go postal. When he did, Avion wanted to be on his don’t-kill list so he could join him for some mayhem.

Surprised? Not to people who knew him before he’d gotten damaged. Avion liked living on the edge. His illness might have made him more cautious, but in truth, he was a male of action.

Speaking of action, this sick bay wouldn’t see any. As a pilot—and a damned good one too—Avion should be out in a fighter jet, protecting the ship.

First, though, he needed to locate some clothes. “Dude, where’s my pants?”

“Incinerated. Seriously, Avion, you really need to learn to step away from the blood spray, not into it.”

Avion snorted at the advice. “Your neat freak fetish is showing.”

“I’m not neat. I’m practical. Less blood means less cleaning.”

“You spy models are weird.”

“Says the guy with the girlfriend who can stop bullets. So jealous.”

“She’s mine.” Possessive? Damned straight. Avion was quite intrigued by his vixen. They shared a bond that had started the first time they’d touched minds. Then hands. He couldn’t wait to see what they
touched
next.

“I think everyone has clued in by now that she’s your girlfriend.”

Was she? He’d technically never asked her. “We’ve not officially gone on a date yet.” Or kissed.

“Dude, trust me when I say she is totally into you. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say she’d probably like you better if you got less blood splatter on yourself. I mean really. Wear an apron if you have to. And you might want to think about something sexier to meet her in for the first time than a tissue paper robe where your ass hangs out, albeit, despite its scrawniness, I guess it’s not bad.”

“Don’t hate me because I have awesome glutes. Hate me because I’m better endowed.”

Seth snorted. “You wish.”

“Just ask your wife.” Avion smirked, and then watched as Seth’s face went through a myriad emotions, most of them involving jealousy.

“Not funny, dude.”

Avion laughed. “I never touched her, but watching you blow smoke from your ears at the thought is awesome.”

“Fuck you,” Seth grumbled, followed by a hand gesture. “If you weren’t still recovering...”

Then Seth would probably wipe the floor with him. The spy model had some killer fighting skills, part of his assassin training.

Good thing Seth deemed him too damaged to spar. Avion doubted he could have held on for long. While his condition improved, it didn’t do so quickly. Pain still lanced through him, the chest wound taking its time to heal, but the bruises covering a good portion of his body at least no longer pulsed with rhythmic pain.

In agony or not, Avion would not let the weak state of his body stop him. He was going to that bridge. He would set eyes on Lilith so he’d finally have an image to go with the sensations he’d accumulated since their meeting.

Then he’d go blow some shit up. Destruction always made him feel better, especially when it made a pretty explosion of light and a booming sound. He thought it had something to do with a fondness for fireworks. While his memories of the time when he was still one hundred percent human were hazy, he did seem to correlate happiness with the bright sparkles falling from a dark sky.

Knowing the ship well, having traveled on it previously, Avion took all the shortcuts he knew to get to the bridge. The elevator whisked him two floors while a series of moving sidewalks increased the speed of his pace down the many corridors. After passing through several open doorways, which was unusual as Aramus usually kept them shut, he stepped into the open command center.

He turned a puzzled gaze on the door, which did not slide shut even after he entered. Was it a ship-wide malfunction?

Not his department. He took a quick moment to get a feel for the situation. Kentry, a cyborg he’d gone on a few missions with, a good, solid guy, manned a console. When it came to navigator and communications, Kentry was the expert. On the other side of the bridge, in what they labeled the offensive zone, where all the cool buttons were, sat Adam. Adam was the former Earth cyborg rebel leader. Recent events had forced him to flee the planet with Laura, a human scientist turned cyborg.