Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Luam, the big humanoid Drift’s female clearly loved, was one of the beings who was too damaged for Cure or anyone else to repair.
The growth on his chest had been visible from the top of the mountain. And the male swayed slightly whenever he projected he wasn’t being watched.
Drift’s female would suffer additional emotional damage when her friend died. Drift couldn’t process how to prevent that.
But he could decrease her damage now by holding her. Physical contact repaired him. He projected it might repair her.
He also liked touching her. She was soft and she fit against him perfectly and she smelled like everything that was right and good in the universe.
He breathed deeply while he rubbed her back.
His body curved around hers protectively. Granules of sand pinged against his boots. The sun’s rays heated his shoulders. The wind mussed his female’s simulated hair.
The fact that she changed her appearance the way some beings changed garments fascinated him. He looked forward to seeing what she’d look like next.
In every persona, she remained beautiful and strong and his.
“We really should go.” She swept the back of her right hand over her dry cheeks. His defiant female hadn’t allowed herself to cry. “The longer we stay here, the more likely we are to draw attention.”
And that would place her friend in increased danger. She didn’t have to say those words.
Drift processed the issue. “Then we’ll go.” He linked his fingers with hers.
They walked back to the mounted transport together. He matched his stride to her much-shorter one.
“And we’ll go fast.” He grinned.
“We’ll go fast.” Her lips curled upward also.
Both of them used the thrill of flying fast to deal with their emotional damage. They would leave their troubles behind them on the trip to wherever his female was heading.
She climbed onto the machine first.
He sat, as he was growing accustomed to doing, behind her. Having her between his legs and in his arms as they flew over the sand dunes ranked high among his favorite activities in the universe.
Only breeding with his female and chattering with her and holding her ranked higher.
They shot forward and both of them hooted with joy. He couldn’t project where they were going, but as long as he was with his female, he was happy.
The pilot of the mounted transport and also of his heart navigated the boulders and guided them between mountains and across some open stretches of sand. The machine vibrated her against him.
His cock strained against his body armor. His form didn’t process that breeding while moving that fast was dangerous.
He was tempted to try it with her…on a virtual mounted transport.
That was an intriguing prospect for the future.
In the present, he focused on her, on the flight, on the wind rushing over them.
The route wasn’t efficient. Intentionally. His clever female flew them to the west and then the north, back east, and then south, until finally she pointed the mounted transport toward her caves.
Their speed alone would’ve caused them to lose any being trailing them. Few vessels could maintain her modified mounted transport’s pace.
Varying their direction numerous times ensured they weren’t being followed.
They coasted to a stop in front of her partially hidden home.
“I want you. Fiercely. My female.” He murmured that message into her right ear and then bit her earlobe with lip-covered teeth.
She shuddered. And the scent of her need escalated. “I want you also, my cyborg.” She slid off the machine. “But we have tasks to complete. And that’s easier to do when we have light.”
“Tell me what you need me to do, team leader.” He followed her to the mouth of a different cave than the one they’d entered at sunrise.
“Is there anyone situated close to us?” She looked at a device attached to one of the stone walls.
“I detect no lifeforms.” He touched the device. It monitored both energy levels and motion within the space. Energy levels were within human tolerance levels. And no motion had been detected for three planet rotations. “Very clever.”
“I altered it myself.” His female lifted her chin.
“A cyborg couldn’t have done any better.” He was proud that she was his. “And we’re half machine.”
Her head dipped. Pink pigment flooded her cheeks. “The Invaders don’t enter the caves if they aren’t forced to do that. They know how dangerous the monster-maker ore is, and the caves are the most accessible source of it.”
Drift looked around them. There were containers set in the space. “So you sleep and grow nourishment and store supplies in the caves.”
“ I do that.” She opened one of the containers. “Most of Cancris are as scared of the caves. They tell stories of beings entering the caves and then turning into monsters. Cyra, my medic friend, thinks those monsters were, in reality, humanoids severely afflicted by tumors. But in the old stories the monsters also devour beings, and the tumors don’t cause that .”
Hunger would cause that. Drift had seen beings eat other beings on battle-ravaged planets. “You don’t believe you’ll turn into a monster.”
“I’m more scared of being found by the Invaders and then tortured than being turned into a monster.” She pressed a button on the device, and a hum vibrated through the air. “This fucks with their listening devices. They shouldn’t be able to hear us now.”
It was fucking with his machine’s auditory system. He had to rely more heavily on his organics to hear her. “It’s effective.”
“Yeah, it is.” She extracted the digger from her pocket. Her friend had crafted that for her. “I designed this also.”
She unscrewed the knob at the end of the tool’s handle, and she tilted the digger for him to survey. The hand grip was hollow. There was a small narrow space inside it.
“It’s a hidden container.” He was impressed. “Is it to send messages?”
He processed his female often talked in code with her friends. She was cautious and clever and assumed the Humanoid Alliance was always listening.
“This is for much more than sending messages.” She clucked her tongue and reached inside the open container. Her female pulled out a small black cylinder and showed that to him also.
A slit of clear material on the side of the cylinder revealed the contents.
A chill skittered down Drift’s spine. “That resembles Erinomean Green Fire.” That material had ended the lifespans of several cyborgs and one equally precious genetic match.
“It doesn’t merely resemble it.” His reckless female gazed at the tube. “It is Erinomean Green Fire. Or at least that is what the Invaders called it.”
“That’s highly volatile, my female.” Drift resisted the urge to snatch it from her. “If activated, it could dissolve you, me, and everything in this cave and beyond.”
It could kill them all. Easily. And instantly.
Erinomean Green Fire was one of the few substances in the universe that could liquify a cyborg’s frame. It scared the circuits off him.
And his female was holding it in her fragile human hands.
“I’ve been assured this container stops that activation.” She was undaunted. “And I’m counting on it being able to dissolve everything. Monster-maker ore, once it is in its solid form, is blasted difficult to destroy.”
“And the Humanoid Alliance’s weapon is fabricated from monster-maker ore.” Drift processed her logic. He didn’t like it but he processed it. “You plan to use the Erinomean Green Fire to blow up the weapon.”
“Yeah.” She tapped one end of the cylinder. “It comes equipped with a release mechanism. All we have to do is program a trigger, which I’ve done.” She took out a handheld from her other pocket, pressed it against the cylinder, looked at the device’s small screen, and nodded. “And it’s now good to go…or to blow…in this case.” She grinned at her own joke.
“You’ll hide the cylinders in diggers.” He projected that was her plan.
“They’ll be hidden in a variety of tools the Invaders have forced the Cancris to use while building their weapon.” She slid the cylinder into the handle of the digger. It fit perfectly. “This digger was crafted merely to test the sizing.” She screwed the knob back on. “And to test that the detonation will work.”
Fraggin’ hole. His female planned to activate the tube of Erinomean Green Fire. “All the cylinders have to be detonated individually?”
“Yeah.” Her lips twisted. “That will take a fuckload of time to program, but it’s a safety precaution.”
It was a safety precaution Drift didn’t 100.0000 percent trust. The Humanoid Alliance, according to the stamp on the cylinder, had manufactured the mechanisms, and they had a history of being sloppy.
“We’re testing it far from here and detonating it from a safe distance.” He wouldn’t risk his female’s lifespan.
She narrowed her beautiful eyes at him.
He gazed back at her. There would be no modifying of those parameters.
“Okay.” She sighed. “We’ll take the mounted transport to the sand dunes north of here.”
“The mounted transport isn’t necessary.” Flying it was too risky. One bump, and they could be evaporated. “I’ll carry you there.”
“Ugh.” His female stomped out of the cave. She carried both the digger-enclosed tube of Erinomean Green Fire and her handheld. “Getting there on booted feet will take all planet rotation.”
“It won’t take all planet rotation if we get there on my booted feet.” He grinned as he scooped her into his arms.
She yelped.
He secured her to him with one hand and reached out his other hand, prepared to catch her dangerous cargo if she dropped it.
But his female didn’t clutch his shoulders, seeking to steady herself.
She gripped her tool and her device tighter in her fingers.
His grin widened.
Because she trusted him not to drop her.
He would never betray that trust. Holding her to him, Drift ran.
Faster than he’d ever run in his long lifespan.
The intel other matched warriors had shared over the transmission lines was true.
A cyborg, after claiming his being or beings, was stronger, faster, more powerful.
His female hooted. Her gorgeous face was illuminated with glee. Her eyes sparkled.
Drift’s joy expanded. And he added another entry to his list of best-ever experiences.
Running with her in his arms was exhilarating.
He raced forward at his new top speed, conveying his female. And they soon reached the point where they were out of range of the storage cave.
Once they hit a level stretch of sand, decorated with no boulders, he stopped with her.
“We’ll fabricate a pit.” He set his female down on a dune.
“I have a digger.” She held up the explosive-laden tool.
“That digger is a bomb.” Drift shook his head. “We’re not utilizing that. ”
He moved the sand with his bare hands. The granules were hot and coarse. But his skin was designed to tolerate both.
His female shoved the sand to the side with her booted feet.
They cleared a space deep within the dune.
“The Invaders have many more containers filled with these cylinders.” His female stated that fact not-so-casually. “We don’t know what they’re planning to do with them. But I suspect whatever it is, it won’t benefit the Cancris.”
“I agree with your projections.” There was a 97.2538 percent probability the Humanoid Alliance planned to kill every being on the planet. “This depth should be sufficient.”
There was 0.0000 possibility the explosive would be blown out of the pit.
Drift held out his hand.
His female gave him the digger. “Can we cover it with sand? I want to see how it detonates within an enclosed space.”
“According to the databases, the range of the explosion will decrease by 6.4785 to 9.2566 percent, depending on the materials in that space.” He set the digger in the pit and then buried the tool in the sand. “But we’ll test it ourselves.”
He grasped his female’s left hand, and they walked a safe distance away from the site.
She looked backward. “I can barely see the covered pit.”
If he had his way, they’d be positioned farther away from it. “You’ll be standing behind me during the detonation.” He shifted until he blocked her view.
“No, I won’t be.” She smacked his body armor-clad back. “Move.”
He didn’t modify his stance. “I won’t allow you to be damaged, my female.”
“I’m the lead on this.” She pushed against him. “Listen to me.”
“You can’t lead your team if you’re dead.” The prospect of her dying made him a bit wild. “You’re too important to risk losing.”
“I’m too important to risk losing at this stage of the Plan.” She stopped fighting him.
His female was too important to risk losing at any stage of any plan.
“You’ll see the results, and that’s key.” He braced his feet apart and held his hands out slightly, making himself as large of a shield as possible. “We’re ready for the detonation.”
“I’m pressing the trigger.” She leaned against him.
There was a muffled boom. A hole sank into the sand and spread. Granules flew from the point of explosion. Drift partially lowered his eyelids and pressed his lips together. Particles pitted his exposed skin. The sting was painful, but it was…manageable.
The green circle of combustion spread and spread and spread.
He prepared to turn. If the aftermath reached them, he’d fling his female over one of his shoulders and run with her.
But his calculations were accurate. The radius of the explosion stopped a C Model cyborg-length away from them.
“It’s safe now, my female.” He brushed the blood-specked granules off his face and hands.
His little human ducked under one of his arms. She sported no visible physical damage.
Drift’s shoulders lowered.
“Whoa.” She stared at the terrain in front of her. “It’s beautiful.”
He followed her gaze.
The sand had fused together into a smooth, shiny, partially transparent mass. The sun’s rays reflected off that surface. It sparkled.
His female was correct. It was beautiful.
He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and drew her closer to his side. “The destruction we’re planning won’t be as beautiful as this is.”
“No. It won’t be as beautiful.” Her shoulders slumped. “Everyone within that circle will be dead. Including me.”
His heart clenched. “I won’t allow you to die, my female.”
“You don’t have a choice about that.” Her voice was edged with a soul-shredding sadness. “The Invaders have installed a kill switch in all the cylinders. If they discover we’ve planted them, they’ll block the detonations. And they’ll know something is wrong if they see me leaving their structure.”
“They won’t see you.” That was an easy feat to accomplish. “I’ll carry you and run at top speed. All their human visual systems will detect is a blur.”
She turned to him. “They have lifeform scans, Drift.”
“I have the ability to block lifeform scans.” They’d wear the cloaks Repercussion had packed.
Drift’s female studied him. “I have to detonate the explosives before I leave the structure. There’s some sort of shielding around their fake mountain.”
“We’ll set the detonations on delay.” That would earn them more time. “And we’ll plan the placement of the explosives carefully.”
That would increase the distance he could carry her before the bombs were triggered.
“The explosives I bring into the structure will be left by the leaders’ chambers.” His female trusted him with more details of her plan. “But we’d have to leave through the manufacturing portion of the structure. There’re shielded doors between those two areas.”
“I’ll jam the doors.” That would be easy for him, a cyborg, to do. Once he was inside the structure, he’d gain access to its systems.
“That’ll sound the alarms.” She pursed her lips. “Some of those alarms are hardwired.”
“Share the schematics for the structure with me, and I’ll devise a means to prevent those alarms from sounding.” He was 84.2563 percent confident that was possible.
“I do have schematics for the structure.” His female nodded.
He splayed his fingers over the small of her fabric-covered back, and he waited for the next obstacle to overcome.
“You can’t carry everyone to safety.” She paused. “Can you?”
She met his gaze. There was a tiny hint of hope in her big brown eyes.
His female wanted him to tell her he could do that. She wanted him to somehow convey everyone she cared about out of harm’s way.
Drift couldn’t give her that false optimism.
“I can’t carry everyone to safety.” Saving every member of her team, including herself, was an impossible task, even for a cyborg. “But I will carry you.”
His female would live. He would ensure that happened.