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Zorn

“These were the best I could do,” Billy says as she holds up a pair of stretchy turquoise exercise pants. She makes a show of setting the pants and blankets on the floor out of my reach. “Show me.” Her eyes focus on my thigh as she waits silently for the unveiling.

She’s not acting like the weakest of her group now. She’s bold, ordering me around. I sit on my bunk against the back wall, both feet on the floor, and open my legs until they’re shoulder-width apart.

She steps as close as possible, both feet slipping between the bars, her hands gripping the metal tubes as she presses as tightly against them as possible.

“A real cock,” she sighs dreamily. “Two of ‘em.” Her eyes glaze over as she takes them in. I can’t entirely blame her. Although I controlled myself better, I felt just like that when Annora and I began our explorations.

“Make them hard,” she orders.

“That wasn’t the deal,” I tell her firmly.

“I don’t have to keep my end of the deal,” she threatens as she tosses her head, then steps away and grabs the bundle of blankets and pants.

“Nor do I, Billy. I already gave you the peek, but I can rescind my promise to keep this a secret.”

Her eyes widen in fright for a moment, then narrow. “I’ll deny it. They’d never believe you.”

“You’re probably right, but they’d never fully believe you again, either. You’ll never have their trust. You’ll never rise in the organization.” I spear her with a hard gaze.

I conduct a quick debate with myself before I say, “I have more to offer, Billy. I can make myself hard, just like you asked. I can let you touch them. We can do . . . more. But nothing comes for free.”

I feel dirty. Filthy actually. What I just said makes me sick to my stomach, but I want to see Annora and my brother again. I won’t be able to see Annora or help Zoriss if I die in this cell.

“You would? Do . . . more?”

“That would cost you.” Every muscle on my face goes into lockdown as I stare at her. “I need to get out. My brother’s dying. I need to save him. Do you have sisters, Billy? Can you imagine how awful it would be to know one of them was dying and not be able to help?”

Every ounce of training I’ve had, and every iota of cunning I possess is active in this conversation.

I’m playing on her guilt, increasing her empathy for me as well as my species, and appealing to something she wants so much it overrides her hatred of wogs.

She wants to find out what sex with a male would be like.

“What’s the cost?”

I need warmth more than anything. I need the blankets that are just out of my reach in the hallway.

“First, give me what I’ve earned.” My eyes flick to the pile.

When she hesitates, I add, “You won’t get in trouble for helping me.

If Mary or any of the others complains, tell them you searched the Internet and found that wogs can die if they get cold.

Tell them I’m of no use to them if I’m dead.

They’ll think you’re brilliant. You won’t get in trouble, they’ll thank you. ”

Brilliant? I force myself not to snort in derision.

She feeds a blanket and the pair of pants through the bars and lets them land on the floor. She held one blanket in reserve to bargain for more.

“Now, what’s the cost?” she demands.

“Let me out, Billy. You know what you’re doing is wrong.” I pause for a moment, hoping my hunch is right. Aren’t all Gods loving and merciful, at least in theory? “Your God really doesn’t want you to hurt other sentient beings, does he?”

Instead of her face softening as I thought it would, her eyes narrow and her mouth puckers.

“No. My God says you’re an abomination, hisser.

” She turns on her heel and storms toward the steps before I can lure her back by fisting myself.

Fuck. That miscalculation might cost Zoriss his life. As well as my own.

I pull on the pants that come halfway up my calves, but at least the stretchy turquoise fabric hugs the waist and they’ll stay up. My nose twitches as I wrap the blanket around my shoulders. It’s musty smelling and threadbare but better than nothing.

Turning my attention to the small window, I see it’s now just a pane of black reflective glass. The sun has already set. I cast my mind out through it for Zoriss, my clutchmate, my brother.

I search for the male who saved my life when I was separated from my team and felled by an enemy sniper on the ice fields of planet Pythian.

He left after sunset to find me, going against direct orders because our superior officer wisely decided it was too cold for Draals to survive.

I was hours away from bleeding out from a wound that nicked my carotid artery.

The cold put me into torpor which actually saved my life by slowing the bleeding and my body functions.

After finding me, he carried me over the ice to get me back to our platoon.

He can’t be dead. I love him too much. I swallow several times to stem the feeling of sadness that threatens to overwhelm me.

It’s different here than it was near all the cities.

The scarcity of humans leaves my thoughts open to travel over the countryside.

And then I feel it. Zoriss’s thought signature.

I can’t read him, not like I did at first when he was faint but I sensed rage.

I don’t know what’s going on with him, only that he’s alive.

Good. At least one of us will make it off this forsaken planet.

I send him my love, then sit back on my bed wondering if I can convince Billy to take me up on my next offer, and wondering if I will have the nerve to go through with it.

Annora

I’m not counting on anyone to come save me. Who knows, my friends could get stopped at the checkpoint or run out of fuel. I’m going to get Zorn out and I know just the way to do it. All I need are his coordinates and I’ll be able to do this myself.

“Okay, boys, welcome to the army.”

The reason I wound up driving this work van to my mother’s house instead of my sleek new Transcend-90 was that our No Shame tech guru is on mating leave. She just got a new mate and the company gave her ninety days off.

I was taking some returned bots to one of our work-from-home employees who was going to see if she could repair any of them. The van was full of bots and repair equipment. I’m going to make them work—at least some of them.

The first thing I need to do is take inventory.

There is a pile of bots in boxes and the Jason and Eric that aren’t boxed whose sexual commentary supplied Zorn with a script.

A few minutes later, I’ve opened all the boxes and sorted the guys into two piles.

On my right are the too-damaged-to-save bots.

On the left are ones that hold more promise.

Sometimes these things are really messed up when they leave the factory, which pisses me off because we should have better quality control, but it happens.

Sometimes they’re damaged in shipping. Some, though, are returned because the owner got cold feet about the expense, got a better deal elsewhere, or just didn’t like the size of the man’s genitals. I’m going to start with this pile.

Less than an hour from when I hung up with my mom, I have four working bots. Three hours later, I have eight bots with complete mobility. I think that’s all I have time for. Now all I have to do is reprogram them.

“All you have to do, Annora?” Shit.

I’ve never been good at the nitty gritty of programming, much less reprogramming. I love the engineering phase. I’m a big picture woman. Designing the Draalian thruster was thrilling. The concept was obvious—two cocks, not exactly rocket science.

However, getting just the right material that wasn’t too soft and wasn’t too hard was just the first step. Getting the distance between primary and secondary cocks was a nightmare. Except for our most expensive personalized model, this was a one-size-fits-all product.

Women are not one-size-fits-all. The distance from one hole to another can vary by over an inch. I stop myself. My mind definitely went down a rabbit hole. I bring myself back to the present.

I’m great at designing and problem-solving. Not so much at writing code. But I can do it.

I find all the drinks in the stash we bought and pick the ones that have the greatest punch of caffeine.

“We’re gonna be up all night boys, and we’re gonna get up-close-and-personal.”

First, I have to figure out what these guys need to do.

“Think, Annora,” I scold myself, then I start on the list.

Finding weapons in the short amount of time I have is not feasible, not to mention I’m a thousand miles from home and have no idea where to find a black-market underground in the wilds of Amity.

What I’ll have to do is enhance my bots’ strength and hope their sheer number can compensate for the fact I only possess two stunners.

I pull the bots out of the van and make sure they all have the balance to walk. I imagine what it will look like when these guys come attacking the anti-woggers looking like the Zombie Apocalypse.

Do I remember from school that Caesar described the Celts painting themselves blue before battle?

As I recall, the shock of their appearance helped them win.

One thing is guaranteed, my little army is going to shock them.

A few are wearing clothes, I’m definitely going to strip them.

Those mean, prudey ladies being confronted with all that naked cock? Definitely a shocker.

Zorn

“I’ll bring him some more water. We wouldn’t want him to die, would we? That would defeat the purpose.” Billy’s voice drifts down the stairs toward me.

I tried to get the second blanket she threw against the wall across from my cell. Neither my arm nor leg could reach. She’s manipulated her way back down here, though, which means she’s ready for round two of negotiations.