Chapter Ten – Castien
Chapter Ten
Castien
I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have suggested that she bathe. What was I thinking? Not like my torture isn’t already endless, I just had to make it worse for myself.
I walk around the cavern, studying it. Calcite deposits spiral up the walls in natural patterns. I catalog the geological details, the way water carved these chambers from solid rock… anything to occupy my mind and ignore the sounds coming from behind me.
Already, it feels like she’s touched me everywhere. Well, not everywhere. My cursed cock is still throbbing and weeping from being ignored.
I hear Jessa removing her clothes, and the gentle splash as she steps into the hot pool. Then she sighs, almost moaning in pleasure. The sound goes straight through me. I let out a low growl before I can stop myself.
Then it strikes me. I lied.
Earlier, when she asked if the blades hurt me, I told her I didn’t feel a thing.
That was a falsehood, and lies violate one of my core commandments: You shall speak only the truth; a lie is the rust of the spirit.
I did feel pain from the blades stabbing into my body, piercing my wings, and slicing across my torso.
It’s just that I can ignore these things, push them into background processing, and I don’t bleed, so the damage doesn’t affect me the way it would affect someone made of flesh.
I think about every time I’ve deviated from my core programming since this mission began.
The list is rather long. It’s only been twenty-four hours, and Jessa has managed to accomplish what Talos Dynamics couldn’t break over months of systematic conditioning and torture.
Why? What’s so special about her? What makes her so different that I can’t resist her influence?
I’ve never experienced anything like this complete obliteration of my beliefs and values. Normally, I shouldn’t be able to lie, feel pain, or experience fear. Yet I’ve feared for her safety… how many times today?
I’m spiraling into system errors I don’t understand.
Something is happening with my background programs, too many glitches running simultaneously, creating cascade failures in my logic centers.
I should confess these deviations, purge them from my memory banks, but I have to wait until the mission is over.
What if it’s too late by then? What if this mission ruins and corrupts me beyond repair?
Do I even understand what ruin means for something like me?
“I don’t like how those scratches look,” she says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. “Weren’t you supposed to heal instantly?”
I half turn toward her but keep my gaze fixed on a particularly interesting cluster of crystals on the cavern wall.
“I will heal in time. Don’t concern yourself with my condition.”
She sighs, and I can hear her moving in the water.
“I know I shouldn’t worry about you. It’s ridiculous, right?
You’re this indestructible steel angel, and here I am, worrying anyway.
” She pauses. “I think the hot spring water might help. I already feel so much better. My ankle has stopped bleeding, and the pressure in my chest is totally gone. My throat isn’t raw anymore, either.
I think the water is magic. There’s no way it’s a normal spring. ”
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
She lets out an exasperated scoff that somehow manages to sound both frustrated and fond.
“Why are you so stubborn? Look, the pool is big enough for both of us. And why are you being so shy? It’s not like you have to get undressed.”
She laughs.
I don’t.
Her casual humor about my constructed body reminds me of what I am and what I’m not. The fundamental difference between us that can never be bridged.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “That was insensitive of me.” Then her voice changes again, becoming almost pleading. “But seriously, please get in the pool with me. The water really does seem to have healing properties, and you’re hurt.”
I realize I can’t refuse her request, and that realization troubles me deeply. Is it because she’s my client and she just gave me an order? Or is it because I can’t resist her when she wants something from me, when her voice takes on that particular tone?
The water rises around my body as I submerge myself up to chest level. My temperature sensors register the heat, and I feel my self-repair systems activate more aggressively in response to the mineral-rich environment.
“Wait,” she says, and there’s alarm in her voice. “Will you be affected by the hot water? I mean, are you completely waterproof?”
I look at her then, moved by the concern in her voice.
Her shoulders rise above the water line, pale skin flushed pink from the heat, droplets of water clinging to her collarbones. Knowing that she’s completely naked just a few feet from me is dangerous.
Jessa Holloway might be the most dangerous trap in these caves, in fact.
“No, water doesn’t affect my functions adversely. I wasn’t harmed by the Drowning Room.”
She smacks her forehead and laughs.
“Right. Of course. I’m not making any sense. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. Usually, I’m a sharp person. I promise, I’m actually smarter than this.”
She laughs again, but I don’t find her self-deprecation amusing. She’s diminishing herself unnecessarily.
“You are intelligent,” I tell her. “Do not suggest otherwise.”
She grins at me.
“You’re too serious, you know that? I bet you can’t take a joke to save your life.” Then she tilts her head, studying me with those penetrating blue eyes. “How does the water feel to you?”
“It feels beneficial,” I admit. “The minerals appear to accelerate my healing processes.”
I can feel the hot water working on the damage to my steel body, smoothing over the places where the blades pierced and sliced.
It seeps under the plate covering my groin, and I can feel it attempting to soothe the constant pressure there, but the steel barrier prevents any real relief.
I want to remove the plate, let the healing water reach every part of me, but I can’t allow myself that vulnerability.
Jessa swims toward me, and I don’t know what to do with myself. Every instinct tells me to retreat, but I’m frozen in place as she approaches.
“Can I ask you a few questions that might be uncomfortable?” she says, looking up at me. “They might even be really rude.”
My voice stutters for a moment before I manage, “Y-yes.”
“You can refuse to answer if it’s too inappropriate,” she continues, and there’s something almost mischievous in her expression. “Or you could even lie to spare my feelings.” She laughs, but there’s a nervous edge to it.
“My programming prevents me from lying,” I tell her, though I’m mostly reminding myself of that fundamental truth.
As she prepares to ask her questions, I make a promise to myself that I won’t lie to her, no matter what she asks. I have to hold onto my commandments, especially now when everything else seems to be failing. No matter what it costs me.
“Do you have a cock?” she asks directly, then immediately flushes red and adds, “I’m just curious about your construction. Don’t read anything into it.”
Her bluntness catches me off guard. I feel my internal temperature spike dangerously. But I made a promise to myself about honesty, and I can’t break it now.
“Yes, I do possess male genitalia. But I’ve only had it for thirty years, and I’ve never used it. I don’t know what to do with it. It’s essentially useless.”
Her mouth opens and closes several times without producing any sounds. Finally, she finds her voice.
“What do you mean, useless? It’s a cock.”
“I don’t require it for urination, for instance,” I say. “Since I have no biological necessities, it serves no functional purpose.”
“Wait,” she says, her eyes widening with realization. “You said you’ve only had it for thirty years? But weren’t you made in the fifteen hundreds?”
“Leonardo da Vinci created me and the other eleven seraphim without any sexual characteristics. He designed us as holy warriors. Angels don’t possess sexual organs in biblical tradition, and our sole purpose was to serve God and the Church without distraction.
Sexual anatomy would have been not just irrelevant, but contrary to our function. ”
I pause, watching her face, trying to determine what she’s thinking.
“When we began to perceive corruption within the Borgia family and started acting against our creators’ wishes, we were deactivated and buried in sealed catacombs in the Alps.”
“But you were found again,” she whispers.
“During World War One, we were unearthed by Italian forces desperate for any advantage in the Alpine campaigns. Military engineers rebuilt us with crude diesel engines and iron plating, turning us into walking weapons. But even then, they didn’t add sexual characteristics because they were irrelevant for our function as trench breakers and shock troops.
After the war ended and we proved too unstable for continued use, we were buried again in a military bunker. ”
The shame of what comes next makes my voice drop to barely above a whisper.
“Thirty years ago, Talos Dynamics discovered our resting place and stripped us down to our Aether Cores. They rebuilt us with the most advanced technology available and then made the decision to add male genitalia to our forms. They believed that if they could make us experience sexual desire, we’d violate our programming and become controllable.
They thought physical temptation would succeed where violence and conditioning had failed. ”
Jessa moves closer.
“All right, I understand how you might think of it as corruption. But hear me out. What if it isn’t that? What if there’s absolutely nothing wrong with lust, desire… with wanting something, someone?”
“It violates the fifth commandment etched into my very core: You shall not crave the heat of the living, nor seek the comfort of the flesh. Lust is the path to sin and eternal damnation.”
“Says who, exactly?” she challenges, and there’s fire in her voice now.
“The same Church that sold indulgences so rich people could literally buy their way into Heaven? The same institution that burned women alive for having knowledge of herbs and healing, calling it witchcraft? The same organization that covered up centuries of abuse while preaching about moral purity?”
“The commandments are sacred law,” I insist, but I can hear the uncertainty creeping into my voice. “They define what I am. What I must be to maintain my purpose.”
“But what if they’re wrong about this?” Her voice grows more passionate, more intense.
“What if the people who programmed those beliefs into you were using religion as a tool of control, just like humans have done for millennia? Sex and desire have been weaponized by institutions to keep people ashamed and compliant, but that doesn’t make the feelings themselves evil. ”
“Love and lust are human emotions,” I say. “I am not human.”
“Aren’t you, though?”
She reaches out and touches my arm.
I pull away from her.
“I’m a machine. I’m steel and circuitry, and programming animated by an artificial spark of energy.”
“But you have thoughts,” she presses, moving even closer. “You have preferences and opinions. You chose to be honest with me just now even though it embarrassed you. You could have deflected or refused to answer, but you didn’t.”
“I cannot lie,” I protest weakly.
“You told me earlier that you didn’t feel pain from the blades,” she points out. “That was a lie, wasn’t it? So, you can lie when you think it’s necessary to protect someone. That’s a choice, Castien. Machines don’t make choices about when to bend their own rules.”
She’s right.
“How does it feel?” she asks.
“How does what feel?”
“Your cock.” Her cheeks flush. “When you get aroused, how does it feel physically? Can you actually feel sensations there?”
Heat floods through me at her explicit question, and I know my face would be burning if I were capable of blushing.
“There is intense pressure,” I admit reluctantly. “Like I am about to burst. There is discomfort, an ache that will not subside. When it happens, I lose my grip on rational thought processes. My focus scatters, and I can’t concentrate on anything else.”
“Those are very human things to feel,” she says softly, and her voice has become gentle, almost tender. “Physical arousal, distraction, the inability to think clearly when you want someone. Are you truly just a machine, Castien?”
I stare into her blue eyes, so close now that I can see the individual flecks of silver scattered through the iris. I can count her eyelashes.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, and the admission feels like stripping away my armor. “Sometimes that uncertainty confuses me more than anything else. It’s easier not to think about what I might be beyond my programming.”
She’s close enough that I can feel her breath. She places her hand flat on my chest where my Aether Core pulses.
“This is going to sound completely insane. But can I see it?”
I jerk away from her and swim toward the shore. I’m feeling betrayed, because a part of me wants to say yes, wants to show her…
No. That is wrong. Deviant. I can’t want Jessa – or any other woman, for that matter – to see my cock.
“I’m sorry,” she calls out, swimming after me. “I shouldn’t have asked that. That was way too personal and inappropriate. I’m sorry, Castien.”
As she reaches the edge of the pool and starts to pull herself up, I turn and stop her with a raised hand.
“No. Please don’t get out just yet. Let me pull myself together. Let me...”
I turn my back to her, my wings spreading in agitation, and stand on the shore, trying to understand what’s happening to me.