Seth: Futuristic Spy Romance (Cyborgs: More Than Machines) (13 page)

It didn’t entirely surprise him when Anastasia confronted him, gun in hand, tears streaming down her face, intent on killing him.

And despite her not pulling the trigger, a part of him did die. It died because no matter how much he loved her, and she loved him—
I know she did
—the military had ruined it. Ruined them both. No longer were they in control of their lives, their destinies. Heck, Seth barely controlled his body or his mind.

As f
or Anastasia? It was a wonder she didn’t immediately pull the trigger. He could tell her machine side warred with her human, urging her to obey and kill.

Not wanting her to live with the guilt, he did the easy thing, and yet the hardest
. He left.

But it didn’t mean he stopped loving. He couldn’t h
elp but dream and remember the girl with the bright eyes and spitfire attitude who’d climbed the wall. The woman he’d set off on an adventure with. The woman who’d stolen his heart, owned his soul, and without whom life lost meaning and color.

A woman the galaxy had in its inexplicable actions brought back to him.
For a second chance.

Back to the future, this time to stay
.

Despite Seth’s constant flirting and teasing within the privacy of their minds, they didn’t manage to find time alone. On the contrary, between keeping Jerry happy, her commanding officer from grumbling, and maintaining her cover, Anastasia barely saw Seth, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware of him.

Despite his initial balking at his task, she heard through the grapevine about the handsome explorer
she’d rescued who was flirting like crazy with the head of the chemical science division. It seemed Seth was playing hard to get, but not so hard that Stanley, his target, was giving up. On the contrary, the wagering among the crew was how long John/Seth could keep him at arm’s length before capitulating. He’d already managed to get nicer quarters and brand new clothing instead of recycled uniforms like the rest of the grunts. He was dining with the officers on board instead of in the cafeteria, and, in general, having a lot more fun than her. Was it any wonder when she finally ran into Seth in the flesh that her tone was less than genial?

“Why if it isn’t the lady who saved me,” Seth exclaimed when he
came across her in the hall.

Her lips pursed
, mostly in annoyance at herself because, despite her constant inner conviction that she wanted nothing to do with the man, every time she saw him, her defective metal heart skipped a damned beat—and her libido kicked into overdrive.

So unfair.
She’d fought hard to forget him over the years, to build a life for herself. Perhaps she didn’t exactly bask in happiness, not like she’d once enjoyed and briefly touched again during their reunion, but she wasn’t about to throw all she’d accomplished away on something she couldn’t have.

And what exactly is stopping me?
She couldn’t blame Jerry for her reticence. She knew she didn’t love him, so he wasn’t the one holding her back. It wasn’t a lack of attraction. One wink, one word, one touch from Seth, and she turned to putty. So why did she not cave at his thinly veiled attempts to win her back? What was she scared of?

I fear nothing.
Except the heartache she’d never quite recovered from. Sure, their relationship had cooled during the many missions they’d gone on. The military, she could see now, had done its best to plant the seeds of doubt even before the final fiasco. When she’d thought Seth betrayed her, she’d gone through an agony worse than even her transformation into a cyborg. To find out that she had been manipulated into believing it? It not only added fuel to the burning need for vengeance but also reinforced her belief that they could never recapture what they’d once enjoyed.
How could he ever forgive me for doubting him? How can I ever forgive myself?
Perhaps she’d not loved him enough to recognize the truth.

All of this passed through her mind in less than a second, not long enough for anyone to notice, but him. He could always read her. At the silent query in her mind,
Is everything all right?
, she didn’t reply, not via wireless at any rate. She stuck to keeping things public and impersonal. “John, how nice to see you. I trust you are settling in comfortably?”

“Marvelously so. I have to say the crew on board has been most accommodating.
Especially a certain gent by the name of Stanley. Why, we’re planning a lovely evening, just the two of us with some imported earth foods, wine and
talk.
” He winked.

Letting her BCI handle a mundane conversation aloud, s
he switched to internal speech to ask the real questions.
This hall is clean of microphones, but just in case, let’s keep this short. Have you gotten anything yet?

Not quite. But tonight is the night.

So you implied. How far are you going to go? And will you be on top or the bottom?
She couldn’t help but internally smirk.

Kinky girl. Wouldn’t you like to know
?

Actually I would. I’ve got a decent chunk of credits riding on this. The pot on that and the exact time has gotten huge.

You’re wagering on me getting lucky with Stanley?
Despite their mundane outward conversation, he arched a brow at her inner jibe.

Just trying to blend in with the humans.

You’re a sick woman. I love it!

Freak.

I’ll take that as a compliment. Back to the evening I’ve got planned. After a little dinner and a little conversation, I plan to adjourn with my special friend whereupon he shall fall into a trance-like state.

And why will he be in a trance
-like state?

Because of the drug I plan to slip him of course. I smuggled a vial of hypnotic serum from your boyfriend’s lab. He’s got some disturbing shit going on in there.

Disturbing how? Was he experimenting on a cyborg?
Despite her claims to Seth that she wouldn’t blow her cover, it had bothered her when she found out about the testing. She’d done her best over the years to slyly intervene, such as falsifying results or changing a cyborg status from active to defective, which meant the cyber unit in question got shipped to a remote outpost to be used as slave labor. Not an ideal situation, but better than the alternative.

No
, he wasn’t getting freaky with one of our kind, but I took the time to read the labels on some of his stuff and peek through his files. All I gotta say is, once we blow this joint, it might be a good idea to make sure he and that lab are dismantled first. It’s in need of a serious nuking. He’s delving into some pretty heavy territory, most of it real bad for us.

Are you sure? He keeps talking about
how his tests are failures and whining about his inability to break through.

Then he’s either lacking some serious self
-esteem when it comes to his work, he’s an idiot, or he’s fucking with you. What’s wrong? Haven’t been putting out lately?

For your information, our relationship isn’t about sex.

I know. He’s been bitching about it.
How smug Seth sounded, even in wireless mode.

He’s what?

Apparently he’s getting tired of your sealed thighs, which is why he’s been banging a private who works in the engine room.

Why that two
-timing asshat!

Jealous?

No. But, still, is it that hard for a man to keep it in his pants and show a little restraint? We are, after all, dating.

I’d point out the irony and flaws in your statement, but we don’t have time. I need to get ready for my date.

Are you sure this hypno drug is going to work? And what about after? How much will he remember? Should I plan for an immediate evac?

Nope. If all goes well, loverboy will wake in the morning believing he had the time of his life. I shall break up with him so as to avoid any further contact and possibility of triggering a memory. And
, at the first way station, we come to, we shall disembark to continue on our quest.

Only if needed. Once we know the location of the company head
quarters, we can re-evaluate.

Oh we shall because if I have to go one more day without touching you I might just explode.

Excuse me.

You heard me, wife. I miss you.

I’m right here.

No you’re not. Our bodies might be having a mundane conversation, I might be able to see you, but I’m
not
with
you. And I need you. Need to touch you. Kiss you.

His words aroused a longing in her for the same thing, a longing she kept trying to deny but couldn’t quite stifle. But she tried.
I’ve told you I’m not interested in becoming a couple again, or being with you.

Liar. You can’t tell
me you’re not missing me too.

How did he know? She kept trying to ignore it
, but the unmistakable fact was she missed him. Irritating as he was, distracting, fun, intelligent, and so much more. She missed their intimate moments, and not just those without clothing.

Unlike the other humans on board, she could be herself with him. She didn’t have to lie or adopt a persona or pretend. To him, she w
as Anastasia. Cybernetic organism, part machine, part woman. He knew her past, was determined to be part of her present, and wanted to plan for a future. He was everything she wanted in a man. Everything she’d missed, and without the lie she’d used to push him away so long ago, a possibility that frightened her.

Now is not the time to discuss this.

Then plan a time because I’m getting tired of waiting and faking it. It’s time we reclaimed our lives, time I reclaimed you … wife.

And
, with that bold statement, he saluted her and walked away, and this time, she was the one watching his sweet ass.

Ever get the feeling that something wasn’t right?
Seth had that feeling as he sat at a table set for two in Stanley’s private chambers. But why? A true cyborg would dismiss the sensation or file it under illogical. Some cyborgs would even check themselves in for a full diagnostic, assuming something was defective with their programming. Seth, though, knew better than to ignore the human instincts remaining to him. Some things even science and math, and even the best BCI, couldn’t explain. Although he tried.

He
first attempted to analyze the situation and pinpoint what was setting off internal warning bells. Romantic setting with holographic candlelight, a red blanket turned into a tablecloth, and subtle, soothing music in the background. His date had made an effort to look nice with freshly ironed slacks, a button shirt, and freshly washed hair that showed signs still of moisture. On the surface, things appeared perfect, and yet …

Despite Stanley’s aggressive pursuit of him, now that they were alone,
the man appeared nervous, easily evidenced by his sweaty palms, rapid chattering nonsense, and the way he kept bobbing up from his seat to fetch things. Seth almost had to wonder if he’d misread the signs. Perhaps Stanley wasn’t as ripe for picking as he’d thought. Perhaps the guy was all about the public show. Or he was just genuinely nervous about their first time together. A pity Seth couldn’t put his mind at ease and let him know nothing would happen. This dinner and supposed seduction was just a ruse to get the guy alone. On the one hand, Stanley’s distraction made it easy to slip something into his drink; on the other, the frustrating man never sipped enough to get him into the trance state Seth required.

“Is something the matter?” he finally asked
, twirling his own wine glass, an extravagance in space. Most of the items allowed on board tended toward the sturdy side, given replacing them was so difficult and expensive.

“Wrong?”
Stanley’s reply emerged high-pitched and guilty sounding. Seth’s danger meter rocketed up several notches. “Nope. Nothing is wrong.”

He’s lying.
Was it simply nerves about the planned evening? Could it be that, despite Stanley’s interest in Seth as a partner, he wasn’t very experienced when it came to the actual intimate part of the relationship? Possible. But, still, this level of unease seemed extreme, especially given Stanley was the one who’d planned this intimate evening.

“Why don’t you sit down? Have a drink with me? Relax. We have all evening
to
talk
,” Seth purred, adding a little wine to his own glass before shaking it at his date.

He took a sip then another as
Stanley finally perched himself, a nervous animal ready to take flight at the first sign of motion.

Would you drink the wine already!
If Seth wasn’t worried his target would remember, he’d have forced it down his gullet. As it was, he had to smile and play the part of interested lover, drinking away at the bitter vintage, which was more vinegar than wine.

Oddly enough, the crappy alcohol had more of an effect than expected. Which is to say, Seth actually felt it.

What the hell?

Usually his nanos took care of any
inebriation unless he specifically ordered them to stand down. Not this time. Despite his BCI requesting immediate nullification of the wine, his body felt heavy, sluggish. He opened his mouth to speak, and his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He could only blink as his body refused to obey and gravity tugged him. He landed face first on the floor, paralyzed.

But aware.

He drugged me!
Someway, somehow, the fucking jerk he’d strung along had found a way to incapacitate him, which meant—

“Stupid cyborg.”

—he knew his secret.
This is really not good.
Seth’s second thought was he needed to warn Anastasia. However, much like his body refused to cooperate, so did his BCI. No matter how he strained to send a message, it failed. Wireless transmission was out.

“You almost had me fooled,” said a not
-so-nervous Stanley. On the contrary, now that he’d rendered Seth into a cognizant statue, he assumed a cocky tone and attitude.

You just wait until the effects wear off
, you little prick. I’m going to wipe that smug smile off your face and find out the location of the company while I’m at it.

Multitasking, something all cyborgs excelled at.

“I have to admit to being most excited you fell into our laps. Or my lap, I should say. You’re the first spy model we’ve managed to recover, and while I’d read the reports, I have to admit I’d not realized just how human you would seem. Or how advanced compared to the other models I’ve been working with. Passing metal detectors and the cyborg body scanners we’ve had built into our medical equipment? I have to say, that’s very clever. We’ll have to examine you very closely to see how you did it so we can prevent cyborgs from infiltrating in the future. We can’t have you learning our secrets.”

If the scanners didn’t give me away, what the fuck did?

Lucky for him, he got an answer. “You might have managed to pull off whatever diabolical plot you had in mind if not for one thing. Someone recognized you. And quite by chance. We took on some passengers last night, more like evacuees. It seems our plans to rendezvous with one of our experimentation facilities came too late. Some of your friends got there first and destroyed it.”

Booyah!
Seth did a mental fist pump.

“But it wasn’t the most vital one, and at least its lead scientists and administrators made it out alive. My brother, Arthur
, was one of them. You probably don’t know him. But, from what I understand, you know our grandfather. Dr. Osgoode.”

Funny how no matter how much of him they’d transformed, that name could still make
Seth’s blood run cold.

“I happened to tell Arthur about you and showed him an image. He thought you seemed familiar and sent that picture to granddad. Imagine my s
hock when I found out that you aren’t John Tweed at all, but unit SO101. A cyborg spy model.”

A spy who’d
been outed by the one enemy he’d never managed to find. Fuck.

“
I’ll admit you both surprised and excited me. And when I say excite, I’m not talking about your good looks. On the contrary, you could look like a troll, and I’d still be in heaven. The things I could do to you to advance my research. The knowledge your body and brain hides.” Stanley sighed. “Alas, it seems granddad has missed having you around. Lucky for you, or not I guess depending on your view, you’ve been commandeered. A squad of soldiers is on its way to place you in stasis so we can safely transport you to granddad’s laboratory.”

Safely? Ha. That
was what the little prick thought.
I beg to differ.
Seth’s baby finger twitched. Not much but enough to let him know his nanos, while sluggish at the moment, were working at freeing him from whatever drug Stanley had concocted. It seemed granddad and dear old Stanley weren’t aware that the freed cyborgs, unlike their captured brethren, had spent the last few years improving their programming. Adapting and advancing, always striving for improvement to keep themselves from being made slaves again. These modifications would play to his advantage, if given enough time.

What a pity he wasn’t going to have much of it.

The buzzer for the room rang out, and Stanley uttered an oral command for the door to open.

I need to
get my nanos to wake up and take care of the sedative before it’s too late.
Seth flexed a finger. Two fingers. He heard more than saw the bodies taking up position around him. He didn’t pay much attention, not when all of his focus needed to be on regaining control of his body. Unbeknownst to them, his muscles tingled as they shook off the temporary stupor. He didn’t let it show though, not even when he heard a gasp of feminine surprise when they rolled him to his back and a bevy of guns was aimed at his head.

It seemed Stanley had
invited an audience. Awesome. He’d give them something to remember, even if it would prove short-lived. Muscle functions came back on line with a slowness that grated. He wasn’t quite ready to make his move. But he was close. So close. So—

H
e heard Anastasia’s voice and had to scrap his half-assed plan to take out the ring of guards around him.
What is she doing here?

Whatever her motivation for showing up,
his mission oriented wife, who swore she wanted nothing to do with him, did the one thing he never expected. She came to his rescue.