Page 7 of The Lone Cyborg
“Thank you,” she murmured reluctantly, “You don’t have to do this, but I appreciate it.”
He glanced up, meeting her gaze, and there was something in his eyes that made her pulse jump.
“It’s no trouble,” he assured her. “It’s the least I can do.”
She stayed with him as he tried to restore the drill to working order. Trojan wandered a short distance away, his head to theground as if he were grazing. In a sense he was, picking up trace nutrients from the soil. Sylvester flew over to join him, perched on his back as if he were riding the big horse, and she grinned as Trojan raised his head, quizzically inspecting his new rider. He snorted and returned to his grazing as Sylvester chirped happily.
They talked a little as J-418 worked and their conversation eventually drifted to personal matters. Perhaps because of her earlier memories of the professor, she found herself telling him about that time in her life.
“I only took the job because I was desperate, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She smiled reminiscently. “He taught me so much.”
“He sounds like a nice man.”
“Nice?” She laughed. “Not exactly. He was stubborn, quick-tempered, and far too likely to get lost in his own thoughts. Not to mention the messiest person I ever met.”
His eyes flashed up to meet her for a moment.
“But you liked him.”
“Yes, very much.”
So much that his death had felt like another abandonment, another betrayal. Resolutely pushing aside the lingering grief, she changed the subject.
“What about you? Was there anyone who changed your life?”
He went still, then lifted his cybernetic hand, gleaming dully in the slanting ray of the setting sun.
“This was the biggest change in my life.”
“You were a soldier?” she asked softly.
He nodded abruptly, his face settling into its usual detached mask, and returned to his work. The rest of their conversation was carefully impersonal.
“There,” he said finally. “That should do it.”
He handed the drill back to her and as she took it, her fingers brushed against his again. The contact sent another jolt through her, making her heart stutter, and she pulled away quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction.
“I don’t know what to say except thank you again,” she said, a faint tremor in her voice.
He gazed at her intently for a long moment, then dipped his chin.
“My pleasure. If you need any more help, you only have to ask.”
There was a faint reproach in his voice, as if he were chiding her for her reluctance to ask for assistance, and she immediately felt defensive.
“I appreciate your offer, but I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can handle things on my own.”
“I know you can, Miss Carson. I’ve never met someone so resourceful and so determined to make it on their own.”
Warmth spread through her at the compliment, a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a long time. It was as if he truly saw her, not just the tough exterior she presented to the world. But it was also a frightening feeling, one that left her exposed and vulnerable, and she quickly pushed it aside, focusing insteadon the drill in her hands. She turned it on, feeling the familiar vibration as it hummed to life.
“Not bad,” she admitted grudgingly, and he shrugged.
“I’m good at what I do.”
His casual confidence was irritating and intriguing in equal measure, and she found herself wondering if his skills extended to more than just repairs. As if he could sense her thoughts, a spark of amusement flickered in his dark eyes, and she turned away, her cheeks hot beneath her mask.
“Well, I’d better get back to work,” she said, her voice suddenly husky, but then a thought struck her. “Why did you come back so soon?”
