Page 32 of Pets in Space 10

Zach settled in the chair next to Cass, content just to watch her work, admiring the intensity of her focus as she began analyzing the lichen sample he’d brought her.

She looked up from her work, her eyes bright with excitement despite the situation. “Look at this, Zach. The lichen you found — it’s nothing like what we’ve been cultivating. The cellular structure is completely different.”

“Indigenous?”

“It has to be. And if plant life evolved here, then the presence of that creature makes more sense. It’s part of an ecosystem we never knew existed. What I don’t understand is why none of the earlier scans ever showed any evidence of organic matter.”

“Maybe it was waiting for us.”

He’d intended it as a humorous statement, but instead of smiling she nodded thoughtfully.

“I wonder if that’s possible. Perhaps the fact that the terraforming process is increasing the levels of water and oxygen has triggered something new — or something old. Look at this.”

He joined her at the monitor to look at the images of the lichen. The alien nature of the lichen was obvious even to his non-scientific eye — strange, intricate patterns unlike any of the Earth-based varieties the colonists were planting on the surface.

A sharp pain in his side interrupted his thoughts. The wounds from the creature’s claws were healing, but slower than usual. Something about the injury wasn’t responding normally to his enhanced healing abilities.

She noticed his discomfort immediately. “You’re hurt worse than you let on.”

“It’s nothing. My nanites will handle it.”

She stood, hands on her hips, suddenly all business. “Let me see.”

“Cass — ”

“I have basic medical training. And whatever that thing is, we don’t know if it carries pathogens or toxins that might affect your healing systems.”

He’d never heard of anything the nanites couldn’t handle, but then again, they’d never encountered Martian predators.

“Fine.” He followed her to the small medical alcove at the side of the room and took a seat.

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered, pulling out a scanner from a drawer.

He hesitated. His torso was a patchwork of human and machine — scars from his military days intermingled with the metallic skin that covered his right hand and extended up over his shoulder and onto his chest. No one other than his fellow cyborgs had seen him without his shirt since the change.

“I need to see the wound properly,” she said more softly, reading his reluctance.

With a short nod, he pulled the torn and bloodied shirt over his head.

The cool air of the station hit his skin, making him acutely aware of his exposure.

The wound on his side was a set of three parallel gashes, the edges already knitting together but still seeping a mixture of blood and some clear fluid he’d never seen before.

Her sharp intake of breath made him tense, but her face showed no disgust, only concern as she examined the injury.

“These are deep,” she murmured, running the scanner over the area. “And there’s something interfering with your nanites.”

“I can feel it. They’re working slower than normal.”

She set the scanner down and reached for a sterile cloth, gently cleaning away the fluid. Her touch was light but confident, and somehow intimate despite her professional demeanor. He found himself holding his breath as her fingers traced the edge of the wound.

“There’s a residue here,” she said, showing him the cloth. The apparently clear liquid had stained the white material light blue. “Some kind of secretion from the creature’s claws, I suspect.”

“Poison?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But it’s definitely affecting your healing rate.” She reached for a vial of gold liquid. “This should neutralize most biological agents. It might sting.”

The solution did more than sting — it burned like fire as she applied it to the wounds. His muscles tensed, but he made no sound. He’d endured far worse during his conversion.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her face close to his as she worked. “Almost done.”

He could smell the faint scent of her hair — something clean and sweet that reminded him of the hydroponics gardens in New Arcadia. It was distracting in the best possible way, taking his mind off the pain.

“There,” she said finally, applying a synthetic skin patch over the wounds. “That should help your systems process whatever was interfering with the healing.”

She didn’t step back immediately, her eyes traveling over the rest of his torso, taking in the mix of flesh and technology and the numerous scars. He had to fight the urge to cover himself, to hide the evidence of what he’d been and what he’d become.

“Does it bother you?” The question escaped before he could stop it.

Her eyes met his, clear and direct. “What? The cybernetics?”

He gave a sharp nod.

“No,” she said immediately. “They’re part of you. They’re what keep you alive, what make you… you. The scars bother me more because I hate the thought of you being injured.”

She put her hand lightly on his chest, just above where his enhanced heart beat a steady rhythm. The simple touch sent his senses into overdrive, reacting to the pressure, the warmth, and the slight tremor in her fingers.

“Your heart rate is increasing,” she said with a small smile. “Are your systems functioning properly?”

“It’s not a problem with my systems. It’s because you’re touching me.”

The confession hung between them, honest and vulnerable in a way he never allowed himself to be. Her smile deepened, and she leaned closer, her hand still on his chest.

“Zach?”

“Yes, Cass?”

“Are you going to kiss me again or not?”

She said it with the teasing look that broke through all his defenses. With a low growl, he pulled her against him, capturing her mouth with his. Her arms went around his neck and she returned his kiss eagerly. The taste of her flooded his senses, warm and sweet and intoxicating.

Her hands traveled along his shoulder and down his chest, mapping the line of metal and skin, tracing the scars, finding the human parts of him and making them come alive.

The need to possess her, to claim her as his own, almost overwhelmed him, but he pushed it down, determined not to frighten her with the intensity of his reaction.

Her hands moved lower, sliding over the ridges of his abdomen. Her fingers teased the sensitive area just above his waistband, and he shuddered.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” he whispered, his voice rougher than usual, his body already anticipating her touch.

“Do what?” she asked innocently, her fingers dancing along the edge of his pants.

“Touch me.”

“I’ve already touched you,” she said, her smile turning wicked.

“Not here.” He guided her hand downward, letting her feel the full effect she was having on him.

Pink suffused her cheeks, but she didn’t hesitate, tracing the outline of his erection through the worn cloth of his pants.

“Oh my,” she whispered. “Are you that big because of the transformation or…”

“That part is almost completely human.”

“Almost?”

He ignored the question, pulling her close enough that her breasts pressed against his chest. She gasped, and he could feel the stiff little peaks of her nipples even through her clothing. Her eyes went wide and dark, and her lips parted as her breath came in quick pants.

“Now your heart is beating faster,” he said.

“You have that effect on me as well.”

He kissed her again, unable to resist the temptation.

This time she was the one who growled, her fingers clutching his shoulders, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks on his flesh.

His hand slid up her ribcage, finding the small curve of her breast and brushing against the tight bud of her nipple.

She arched into his touch, and a shudder ran through her. He forced himself to break the kiss and lift her away from him, ignoring her whimper of protest.

“If you want me to stop, tell me now.”

She didn’t hesitate, reaching for him again. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He gave a low laugh and pulled her into his arms, kissing her again as he lifted her easily and carried her over to the bunk. She didn’t release him, keeping her arms wrapped around his neck, kissing him as if she couldn’t bear to be apart from him.

He lowered her to the bunk, following her down, his body covering hers. She was soft and warm beneath him, her curves fitting perfectly against the hard lines of his body as she clung to him.

The sensation sent a surge of need through his body. His shaft strained against the confines of his pants, aching to be freed, to slide into her wet heat.

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered, sitting back.

She obeyed, lifting the thin fabric over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the sight of her small, perfect breasts nearly drove him over the edge.

“Gods,” he murmured, staring down at her. “You’re beautiful.”

She blushed, but she reached for the fastening of his pants.

“Not yet,” he said, catching her hands. “I need to touch you first.”

He lowered his head and drew her nipple into his mouth, rolling it gently between his teeth.

She cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pressed herself closer.

He released her nipple, moving to her other breast and drawing it into his mouth as he slid his hand beneath the loose waistband of her pants.

Her entire body quivered, the sweet, musky scent of her arousal surrounding him. His restraint began to fray and he yanked her pants down, exposing her pale, slender legs.

Her breath hitched, but she parted her thighs, giving him better access to the small patch of blonde curls at the apex of her thighs.

“I can smell your arousal,” he growled. “You want me.”

“Yes,” she moaned, and her agreement only added to the primal need to make her his.

He kissed her again, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her as his fingers sought out the swollen nub of her clit.