Once aboard, the aliens had gone on a killing spree, assuming identities as needed. “We learned how they shift,” he said. “Humans produce a liver enzyme which gives the aliens the ability to take their form. Eating the liver enables them to shift. That’s why they’d disemboweled the victims.”
Miranda covered her mouth with her hand. “Althea had been disemboweled. You’re saying… it was a Tyranian, and not Althea, who came to my cabin that time Sparky went on attack?”
He nodded, hiding his dismay at how close of a call she’d had. “Yes, but we got them all.” He wanted to hold her, reassure her nothing bad would ever happen to her again.
“How can you be sure? We thought we were safe before! Can the bio scanners detect a shifted Tyranian? How certain are you of the accuracy?”
“The scanners are about 90 percent, depending on how much of the enzyme the alien ingested. It’s the enzyme that turns out a false positive.”
She waved her arms. “Ninety percent isn’t good enough!”
“No, it’s not, but—” he pointed at Sparky “—he’s 100 percent.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s one reason why we kept him so long. Your K9-500 bot is dead-on accurate in determining human from alien. He found a Tyranian our scanners had missed. So we ran him by every single person on board. I don’t know who programmed him—”
“My father,” Miranda said. “He was a geneticist as well as an AI engineer. Sparky was actually a prototype he’d wanted to manufacture. I was like the beta tester. But then my father died.”
“We would like to study Sparky’s coding, and adopt it for our bio scanners.”
“If it will help, of course! But we’re leaving tomorrow. We’re arriving at the space station, right?”
Dante nodded. “The other New Utopians will be disembarking. I would like you to remain on board. I can offer you a civilian position as an archivist.”
“So you can study Sparky?”
“That’s not the only reason.” He glanced at his boots before lifting his gaze to hers. He took a breath. “I had hoped when we kissed that you shared my feelings, and you’d stay—to spend time with me.”
“You mean you still care? I waited and waited for you. When you didn’t come, I thought you’d started to regret…”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to see you so much, but duty intervened. And when we discovered the bio scanners weren’t 100 percent accurate, we had to rerun the identification process with Sparky—and thank goodness we did—then—”
“Yes! I’ll stay!” Miranda flung herself into his arms.
He kissed her with all the longing he’d had to suppress in the past week. When he released her, his chest heaved, and she was breathless as well. He couldn’t stop grinning. He brushed the hair from her face and stared into her eyes.
“I didn’t think permanent non-military personnel were allowed on warships,” she said.
“We have civilian contractors and a few spouses of military personnel aboard. In addition, exceptions are sometimes made for others if there’s a significant need.” He grinned, trying to ease his tension. “I have a significant need for you. And then there’s Sparky.”
She smiled. “Will he have to enlist in the space force? Will he have a rank?”
“He’ll start out as Private Sparky,” he quipped. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d made a joke.
“Not even a corporal?” She laughed.
“I’m sure he’ll be promoted in short order.” He cocked his head. “You’ll outrank us both.”
“How’s that?
He hadn’t planned to pop the question now, hadn’t thought he had a chance she’d say yes. His only goal had been to convince her to remain on the ship. Yes, Sparky could help them improve their bio scanners, but mostly, he needed Miranda. He loved her, could not imagine spending his life without her.
“I was thinking you’d have the rank of…wife.”
“Wife?”
His heart thudded. “My wife. I know it’s too soon to ask you. I’m a cyborg. You’re fully human. You’re a pacifist.”
“I lost my pacifist card when I beheaded a Tyranian.”
“I’m a warrior. I’m—”
“Really talkative.” She pressed her finger to his lips. “Yes. Yes, you silly cyborg warrior who I love more than anything, I’ll marry you.”
“You must be aware what you’re signing up for,” he rushed on, still unable to believe his luck, needing to be sure. “We could be in space for months between furloughs and space-station stops. Duty will demand my time—”
“Dante?”
He stopped speaking.
“I’m staying. I’ll marry you.” She thumped his chest. “Stop wasting time and kiss me.”
Heat flared within him, and his heart swelled as if it would burst. He claimed her mouth in a long, deep kiss. He would always be a cyborg, but Miranda had awakened his emotions and enabled him to feel again.
“I love you,” he murmured.
“Woof, woof,” Sparky barked from his docking pad.
* * * *
I hope you enjoyed Stone Cold Cyborg. Thank you for reading. As I mentioned in the blurb, this short story was originally published in Pets in Space 1. For more cyborgs and pets, read on for an excerpt from Cyborg Rescuer (Men of Mettle 6). Cyborg Rescuer was published in Embrace the Romance: Pets in Space 2, and later released in my Men of Mettle cyborg romance series.
* * * *
Cyborg Rescuer
Chapter One
Hissing and growling, the Ka-Tȇ emerged from the jungle.
Solia hid her face under her good wing, feigning unconsciousness. Will it be me? Please, not me. Tears trickled from her eyes. If her life was spared, another’s would be taken.
Her hair registered disturbance in the air as the Ka-Tȇ approached. Through a tiny gap in the vanes of her wing, Solia caught sight of dirty, razor-like claws. Two sets of feet stopped beside the electro-cage.
No. no. no.
A hiss. “Save this one for last.” A long tail snapped.
Her hair prickled as they moved on; her heart pounded as she listened for an indication they’d stopped at the adjacent cage containing the human girl. She heard no buzz of the force field shutting off or cry from the captive.
It would be the other one, then—the sentient who rolled silently in her cage. Without legs, she moved on a rotae, a natural wheel. Solia had never seen such a creature and wouldn’t have guessed she was female except the Ka-Tȇ somehow knew. They’d killed the males first, reserving the females for a special torture.
The force field hummed.
“Get out.” The microimplant behind Solia’s ear translated the snarl into Faria. “Now.”
The hiss was followed by a cry of pain from the sentient. Make it quick. Make it quick. Nothing could save the creature, but Solia prayed she wouldn’t suffer for long.