Page 19 of Her Alien Cyborgs
Feeling slightly abashed, she belatedly released Kalan’s hair and lowered her arm.
“Consent,” Fyr’enth spoke the word slowly. “I see. I give you my consent to touch me any time you like, Hezza.”
“Me too,” Kalan agreed.
“That’s not exactly how it works but close enough.” She gestured to Kalan. “Time to take a step back, Kal. Proximity to each other makes this more intense, and I think we could all use a time-out.”
She caught their confused expressions and winced. “Right. Your language database won’t include many colloquialisms and slang. I’ll try to remember that. I’m saying that we need some time apart. A lot has happened, and there’s been no time to process any of it.”
“The more time we spend together, the more it affects us?” Fyr’enth asked.
“As far as I understand it? Yes. I’ll tell the ship to dial up the air scrubbers to maximum. That should help for now. There’s more I need to tell you about all this, but first I have to make sure I know what the hell I’m talking about. You’re welcome to read up on it, too. Or anything you’re curious about. If you need more information, we’ll put in a request for it the next time we’re in port.”
They both nodded, and she got the sense they wanted to hurry to their rooms so they could start learning. It was a good time to step away.
“I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, ask the ship. If you want to talk to me, just tell the AI to connect us.”
She walked away and headed toward her own quarters, which were only a few short steps from the cockpit. She had work to do, but first she needed to pull herself together.
“Ship, what’s the current temperature in the freezer section?” she asked.
“The temperature in that compartment is currently minus eighteen degrees Celsius.”
Perfect. Hezza made haste to the nearest ladder to the lower levels. Why waste time with a cold shower when she had a better option? She’d simply walk into the bracing air of the freezer andstay there until she could think straight. “Hey, ship, send an extra-large serving ofja’kreeshto that area. Will you?”
“Request confirmed. However, I must remind you that consumption of that much stimulant is not recommended. Do you wish to proceed despite this information?”
“Yes, I wish tofraxxingproceed,” she muttered and then raised her voice to be sure the system heard her. “Do it.”
“Confirmed.” The ship’s flat reply held an almost imperceptible hint of reproach.
Wonderful, now she was being judged by a machine. Or, she admitted to herself, maybe she was projecting. As hot as that kiss had been, she still didn’t feel right about it.
Her cyborg companions didn’t need a mate. They needed a mentor. Someone who could guide them as they learned to navigate their new lives. Could she do it? Yes. But they deserved more than a gray-haired cynic with a long track record of questionable decisions.
She slid down the ladder to the next deck, her hands and feet on the rails instead of the rungs. Was it the safest way to navigate the ship? No, but it was fun… and yet more proof the two cyborgs deserved someone better.
In a fit of pique, she raised one fist and glared up at the ceiling. “I’ve heard that the Vardarians believe they find their mates with the help of their ancestors. If any of you can hear me, I’ve got a message for you. Youfraxxedup. Badly. If there’s any way to undo thissharhalthing, do it. Let them have a chance to discover who they are before they’re mated for life. They deserve to enjoy their freedom. And then, when they’re ready, maybe you could find them a pretty young thing who isn’t as old and jaded as me.”
Once she put her feelings into words, she felt a bit better. Would it change anything? Probably not. The universe had never listened to her before, so why start now?
CHAPTER 8
Kalan lingeredin the passageway to watch as the feisty human female walked away from them. He wanted to chase her down, push her up against the nearest flat surface, and show her just how deeply thesharhalwas affecting him.
He was supposed to be stronger than any ordinary being, so how thefraxxcould she walk away so easily?
“She’s tougher than she looks,”he sent to Fyr’enth. He could have spoken out loud, but he wasn’t sure how good Hezza’s hearing was.
“She is,” Fyr’enth agreed aloud. “And if you go after her right now, you might find out just how tough she is. She asked for space. We need to give it to her.”
“I know,” he grumbled. “And I heard what she said about consent, too. Adjusting to freedom will be more difficult than I imagined.”
“Agreed. But one thing I am looking forward to is falling asleep without having to listen to you snore.” Fyr’enth turned and walked into his cabin, the door closing before Kalan could think of a scathing reply.
He flipped two fingers toward Fyr’enth’s cabin and then retreated to his own. Once the door closed, he slowly assessed his new home. Just the idea of having such a thing was strange. His home. His bed. His…anything.
Hezza had said the room wasn’t fancy, but to him, it was a palace. The ship itself wasn’t much different from Orio Station with chipped and faded paint of some nondescript color, metal grates underfoot and overhead. That’s what he’d expected the cabin to be like, but he was wrong.
