“I—oh.”
She kissed him on the neck and released him, sliding down to the deck. Her knuckles brushed against his clothes, and she winced, shaking her hand. Yes, that definitely smarted. Punches should be avoided in the future.
Leonidas faced her and caught her wrist, his grip gentle as he turned her hand to look at her knuckles. “Wait here,” he said, gesturing to his bunk. “I’ll find you something in sickbay.”
“Just not one of the doctor’s potions, please. They all make me have to use the head.”
“I was thinking of an ice pack.”
“Ah, that sounds good.”
He left, closing the hatch behind him. Alisa hoped he did not cross paths with Abelardus. Even though he had calmed down, she could envision his rage returning at a glimpse of that smug face.
She wiped away the remnants of her tears and sat on the edge of Leonidas’s bunk. She ran her hand over the rumpled sheets, wondering if he had been resting well or having nightmares. Something must have woken him—she and Abelardus hadn’t been talking that loudly, not until after Leonidas had come in. She now wished she had knocked on his hatch and joined him instead of going to NavCom. Even if Abelardus hadn’t gotten far with his advances, she felt dirty and disgusted with herself for letting him even touch her. A squeeze bottle of water rested in a wall nook next to the head of the bed, and she pulled it out, dribbling a few drops into her hand. She rubbed the water on her lips, then scrubbed them off with her sleeve, wanting all trace of the bastard off her.
The hatch opened. Fresh relief came over her when Leonidas walked in. She wondered what he would say if she asked to sleep here, on the floor if need be. Abelardus would not bother her in here, not with Leonidas nearby. But he might pester her if she went back to her cabin and he could get her alone again. She hoped that pestering would only take the form of an apology, but she did not want to deal with even that.
Leonidas handed her a squishy cold pack, then poked into his duffel bag. It leaned against his crimson armor case in the corner of the room. He pulled something out and came over to sit beside her.
“Is that chocolate?” Alisa asked, catching a glimpse of a cherry and what might have been a cacao bean on a wrapper.
“Yes.” He unwrapped the end of the bar, handed it to her, then took her wrist again. He rested it on his thigh and positioned the cold pack across her knuckles. “I got it on Arkadius Gamma,” he said, “while Dominguez was talking with a contact.”
“For me?” Alisa smiled and leaned against his shoulder. Even if he had purchased it for himself, she would be inordinately pleased at his ability to produce it to share at this stressful moment.
“For you,” he agreed, meeting her eyes.
“Thank you.”
Alisa melted a little inside, the gentleness in his gaze making her want to kiss him. Or to cry. Or maybe both. She could feel the warmth of his thigh under her palm, contrasting with the chill of the cold pack. She could also feel the musculature beneath the soft togs he wore to sleep in. It would be easy to run her hand along his leg, to inch closer. But his obliviousness, as she had called it, made her hesitate. He hadn’t corrected her or offered an explanation. More than once, it had crossed her mind that he might be gay. But he didn’t drool over Beck either. Of course, Beck called him mech and daydreamed of collecting his bounty.
Maybe he was just shy. It seemed almost ludicrous from someone who had no shortage of self-confidence and no reason to feel uncertain about himself, unless one counted his discomfort about being labeled anything less—or more—than human.
Hells, maybe she should just kiss him and find out if he would allow it, or if there was even a spark between them. Or if kissing someone—without someone subverting her mind—would bring thoughts of guilt rather than arousal, thoughts that it was too soon and she was betraying Jonah’s memory. She knew he wouldn’t begrudge her going on with her life, but she also didn’t know if she should wait longer, if this was inappropriate. She was good at being inappropriate. She certainly wouldn’t have gone out and sought someone so soon of her own accord, but Leonidas’s appearance in her life had been unexpected.
“Alisa?” he said softly.
“Yes?” She pulled her wandering thoughts in and realized she was leaning her chest against his arm, her chin almost resting on his shoulder. She could feel the hardness of his body beneath the thin material of his shirt and couldn’t help but think of slipping her hand under the hem and stroking his warm skin, of tracing the contours of his stomach.
Leonidas lifted his hand to her face and cupped her cheek. Her heart nearly lurched out of her chest as anticipation ricocheted along her nerves, making her even more aware of his body—and of hers. His thumb brushed her lips, and she shivered, thoughts of crawling into his lap and kissing him rampaging through her mind. Only the expression on his face made her hesitate again. It wasn’t lust or ardor. No, there was the faint crinkle to his brow, as if he was trying to figure her out.
Damn it, what was there to figure out? She wasn’t complex.
“Leonidas,” she said, her voice somewhere between exasperation and passion.
He opened his mouth to respond, but she decided in that instant that she would make her intent utterly clear, make it so even the most oblivious man would understand it. And more than that, she wanted to kiss him, out of pure, selfish hunger and desire.
She lifted her hand, not caring that the cold pack tumbled to the floor. She clasped the side of his head, twining her fingers into his hair, noticing its softness, the only soft thing about the man. His lips remained parted, whatever words he’d had in mind unspoken, and she lifted herself up to meet them, finally pressing her mouth against his.
He did not draw back. For a moment, he did not move at all, but then one of his arms slid around her waist, and triumph rushed through her, mingling with her desire. He wouldn’t push her away. He wanted this. He kissed her back, his mouth gentle, his concern for her coming through in the gesture.
She closed her eyes, sliding her tongue along his lips, enjoying the taste of him, the pleasure of being close to someone she cared about. It had been so long since someone had held her, kissed her, protected her. Cared about her.
It did not take her long to realize she wanted more than a kiss. She shifted her weight, sliding her leg over his lap, smiling as she imagined demonstrating what she’d had in mind with her comment about riding him.
But he drew back, his lips leaving hers. Her fingers tightened in his hair. What was it? She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to push him back onto the bed and bring some pleasure to both of them. There were enemies and betrayal everywhere they turned, but couldn’t they have this? Couldn’t they have each other?
“Alisa,” he said, regret in his voice. “We need to talk.”
“Talking isn’t what’s on my mind right now,” Alisa said.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just—” She stopped at the anguished look in his eyes and dropped her face to his shoulder, struggling not to feel disappointed. She wanted to keep kissing him, to do more than kiss him, not to talk. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be good. Nobody ever started good news with the words, “We need to talk.”
He did not let go of her, but he shifted her off his lap.
“I can’t be with you,” Leonidas said softly.
Alisa tried not to feel rejected, but it took a Herculean effort. The urge to slink off to her cabin came to her, Abelardus be damned, and she looked toward the hatch.
“I can’t be with anyone,” he amended.
She frowned, meeting his eyes. “What?”
“No cyborg can, not the ones made for the military.”
Made. As if he were some machine, like one of those androids, and not a human being.
A human being who had agreed to a lot of unpleasant surgery for the empire. The first inkling that it had involved more than replacement bones and implants came to her.
He was watching her
warily, and she realized that he, too, must be worried about rejection.
She rested a hand on his chest and scooted back on the bunk so she could lean against the wall. “Tell me.”
He hesitated, but then scooted back with her, shoulder to shoulder. “It’s part of the surgery. They tell you about it, and it’s a deal-breaker for a lot of the men. There’s a reason that enlistment bonus is so high. Others think that it won’t be real, that they’re virile enough to find a way around it.” He snorted. “Others are just… motivated to join the Cyborg Corps, no matter what the repercussions.”
Alisa remembered his story, how he’d needed the money to save his mother.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “I mean, I get why the men would be forced into accepting the deal, but why did the military do it to start with? What could be gained?”
“Any number of things. When the Cyborg Corps program was first started, the fleet used a lot of convicts, offering them a life in the military as an alternative to life in prison. In the beginning, the military scientists were worried about giving a lot of power to people who might abuse it. They didn’t want their cyborgs raping women, enemies or otherwise. Later, I think they also realized it was useful not to have their super soldiers having divided loyalties between wives and lovers and the outfit, and it also meant they wouldn’t be susceptible to pretty spies or assassins seeking to seduce them. Either way, it continued to be a part of the program, even after the fleet started taking regular men with no criminal pasts. They made them—us—physically incapable of penetration by tying off something somewhere—” he waved vaguely toward his groin, “—but there’s a mental component, too, an adjustment to the brain chemistry, so you don’t even think of sex or arousal. I’m not sure what, exactly—I was unconscious for the surgery. It’s not hormonal—if anything, the increased production they give us in that department ought to make us more interested in sex, not less.”
Alisa rested a hand on his forearm, not surprised they had tinkered with his hormones. Every cyborg she’d seen had the proportions of a body builder. She wondered what the long-term side effects were and what the life expectancy was for them. For him. She blinked, finding tears in her eyes again as she looked at him.
“Everything is still intact,” Leonidas said, giving her a concerned look, probably misinterpreting her moist eyes. “And I have the hope that it may be reversible. Now that I’m not working for the empire anymore, at least not directly, I have the freedom to look for a solution.”
“That’s what you were looking for on that research laboratory? And that’s why you were interested in Admiral Tiang?”
“Yes. Dr. Bartosz performed my original surgery. I figured that if anyone knew how to undo what had been done, it would be him.”
“All that for—uhm.” She stopped herself, not wanting to make light of his problem, but she had expected that something more grandiose had been motivating him.
“I’d like to have a family,” Leonidas said. “Children.”
“But you could have children without having sex. There are any number of ways that could happen.”
“I’d like to have a wife and mother for my children too,” he said dryly. “I imagine she might be disappointed if the marital relationship didn’t go beyond hugs.”
“Depends on the woman,” Alisa said. She had known plenty of women who wouldn’t mind not having sex with their husbands of many years. Some had never been that interested in it to start with.
Leonidas looked frankly at her, his eyebrows raised. “You wouldn’t be disappointed?”
“Uhm.” She was tempted to say it wouldn’t matter, that she could see accepting him as he was, but was that the truth? It wasn’t as if he was unappealing in any way—quite the opposite, rather. And yes, she would be disappointed to sleep next to him every night and not sleep with him. Early on, she might have told herself that he wasn’t her type, and maybe she had believed that, but even before he had saved her life and stood up for her all those times, she had found herself thinking of him with his shirt off. And imagining other things coming off too. “Yes, I’d find that… frustrating.”
He nodded, as if he had expected nothing else. She wished it wasn’t the truth, and felt selfish for her greedy desires.
“Losing the orb is for the best, then,” Alisa said. “Now I can continue my mission and you can continue your mission.”
He snorted, but a wistful expression entered his eyes. He might be loyal to the empire, and he might be willing to help Alejandro, but she’d never gotten the impression that he cared much about the orb—or this staff, now that he knew about it. Maybe he, like she, realized that giving a boy such a weapon—or giving it to anyone—would be asking for trouble.
She clasped his hand, threading her fingers through his, and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Alisa, I hesitate to ask anything of you, or to say anything at all, because it’s not fair to you… but it makes me moderately crazy when you joke with other men, especially knowing that I can’t…” He sighed. “Apparently, cyborgs are perfectly capable of feeling possessive and jealous.”
She bit her lip, secretly pleased at the admission. “Then you probably need to show greater appreciation for my humor so I don’t feel the need to share it with others.”
He grunted. “I don’t think you would ever lose that need. You share it with everyone, even enemy commanders.”
“Hm, it does seem to be a compulsion. But I don’t want to share more than humor with them.” She met his gaze again. “I would like to share the rest of myself with you.”
His eyes continued to hold a touch of wariness, of concern. Did he worry that he would never find a solution? And that she would eventually seek someone else who could satisfy her? She didn’t know what promises she could or should make to alleviate his concerns. Would she wait indefinitely? She didn’t know.
Leonidas finally smiled and said, “Good. I’ll work on showing greater appreciation for your humor.”
“I look forward to it.” Pushing aside the worries for another time, Alisa grinned, grabbed his arm, and pulled him down onto the bed. “In the meantime, can I sleep here?”
She meant to point out that they could at least cuddle and spend time together, but the concerned look returned to his eyes, and she remembered his nightmares, the fact that he seemed to lash out in his sleep. Indeed, now that she looked, she could see dents in the bulkhead where objects—or maybe his elbows—had struck it.
“Or we could forego sleep,” she said. “The day cycle isn’t that far off. Perhaps we could share this chocolate and try out that massage I’ve been wanting to give you for some time now.” She slid her hand up his arm to his shoulder and wriggled her eyebrows.
“Or I could give you a massage,” he offered, almost shyly.
“Oh, that does sound appealing. We could take turns.”
“I would like that.”
Chapter 16
When Alisa opened the hatch and stepped out of Leonidas’s cabin a couple of hours later, she did not see anyone in the corridor, though she did hear someone talking in NavCom. The voice was muffled, the speaker having his back to the hatchway, and she was trying to decide if it was Abelardus when Leonidas came out behind her. He only listened for a couple of seconds before pursing his lips and shaking his head.
“The doctor is communicating with someone,” he said.
Alisa had been thinking of getting something to eat, but she veered toward NavCom instead, having no trouble imagining Alejandro making a deal with an android treasure hunter or someone else who might help him reacquire the orb. She would have preferred to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in the mess hall, a chance to sit in peace and appreciate her delightfully relaxed muscles as she sipped coffee with Leonidas. He could probably use some coffee too. He had been careful not to doze off during his massage. She did not know if that was because he also worried he might be dangerous to someone sharing a bunk with him or if he just didn’t want her to
witness his nightmares, the way he tried to keep her from noticing when he was hurt and in pain. She hoped he had a plan of action for those nightmares, the way he did for his other problem. Maybe he would eventually grow comfortable enough with her to talk about them. Perhaps that would help.
“…don’t have everything you need, I assure you,” Alejandro was saying to someone over the comm. The forward camera was still displayed on the view screen, but only the Alliance ships were visible in it now. The space station had once again disappeared. It must have happened recently. Several shuttles were flying away from the area, en route to the larger ships. “I’ve consulted with our Starseer resource, and he’s positive you need him. I’m also well versed on the lore surrounding the station itself, and I believe you’ll also need me.” Alejandro sat alone in NavCom, his robed butt in her seat.
Alisa could have growled at him for that alone, but she restrained herself, stopping in the corridor to listen for the response.
“If that’s true, then we know where to find you,” came the reply, an older man’s voice.
Alisa did not think it was Tiang, and it definitely was not Tomich.
“I offer my services with no strings attached,” Alejandro said, “my services and those of the Starseer.”
Alisa stared, surprised he was speaking on Abelardus’s behalf, and even more surprised that those two would be planning something together. Had they decided to join forces to keep the Alliance from getting the staff? And would they later play a game of Asteroid Bang to decide which one of them got to walk away with it? Maybe they each had plans to deceive the other.
“I shall discuss your offer with my science people, but as I told you, I doubt we have any need for your services. We’ll be in contact if I’m proven incorrect.”
“This offer isn’t on the table indefinitely,” Alejandro said.
Leonidas touched Alisa’s shoulder and passed her, heading for the co-pilot’s seat. Alejandro flinched, looking guiltily at Leonidas and then noticing Alisa in the corridor. His lips flattened together. Alisa almost sighed at Leonidas. She wouldn’t have minded listening in for a while longer before announcing their presence. Apparently, cyborgs were above eavesdropping.