Chapter 19
Aura
Wyl’s arrival is untimely, but not unexpected. I did not think he would leave the ship in an escape pod like he said he would, which is why I chose to remain as well.
I should have expected PACU’s appearance, but he caught me by surprise.
Turning the corner in search of hostile Grivaldans, the shock of seeing him next to two of the alien pirates disarmed me for a moment.
A beacon activated inside me when I unlocked PACU’s secret file, but I did not think he could trace it so quickly.
I believed that I would have more time to broach the subject with Wyl and formulate a plan.
My father’s presence brings conflicting emotions to the forefront of my mind.
I have many questions for him, but since he came with the enemy aliens, I am not certain I can trust him.
His companions are a threat to Wyl’s safety—and mine, I suppose—so I do not want to encourage him by opening a conversation.
It is akin to engaging with someone who is holding you hostage at gunpoint.
I turn back to my father, who stands with a savage grin on his lips.
Even wearing rags, he is admittedly stunning; no one could deny his sexual appeal.
His facial features, modeled after ancient statues from Earth Greeks, are sharp and well-defined, more classically handsome than Wyl’s but, I find, not as desirable.
PACU’s musculature is bulkier than Wyl’s, more exaggerated, but again not more subjectively attractive.
Fascinating that my personal preferences are so different from Archer IX’s. I had assumed that my preferences would align with PACU’s, and similarly that his were designed to match the former regent’s. Could this be another sign that my father evolved beyond his programming?
Could I have evolved beyond mine?
“Hello, daughter. It … displeases me to see you associating with the race that annihilated our kind.”
So, PACU has switched to Earth English, likely for Wyl’s benefit. Fine. I shall as well.
“Epigan the First was not a human.”
My father’s grin widens. “Ah, but your grandfather’s usurper was not the true cause of our near extermination. That was ultimately Archer IX’s doing, when his transgressions brought about the execution of the other XR models. Of your mother.”
I do not know the purpose of his attempt to goad me by mentioning the fates of Archer IX and my mother. Perhaps he is not aware that I already know this information, or perhaps he assumes I have more emotional attachment to him and the Secondary Concubine than I do.
To be honest, I do not hold many emotions for either of them.
Gratitude, perhaps, to my father for creating me, but my mother had no knowledge of his plan, was nothing more than a genetic donor of sorts, so her death is irrelevant.
Unfortunately for PACU, gratitude alone cannot build a strong enough bond to counter what Wyl and I have.
“Wyl has not abandoned me,” I say.
My father’s eyes narrow. “Ah, yes … Wyl. The scavenger.” His tone is filled with unmistakable disdain, and he sneers.
“You and he have become close, correct? He went from registered user to sexual partner quite rapidly. Oh, do not look so surprised. I have maintained remote access to all of your memory files since your inception. There is nothing you have done that I am not aware of.”
The revelation, disturbing though it may be, explains his swift arrival. I wrongly assumed that the beacon was the first contact since he left me on Jupiter’s Joy.
While my father and I talk, Wyl inches around me until he stands between myself and the intruders, keeping his gun aimed at one of the Grivaldans at all times.
It is valiant, but ultimately futile. If they attack, we will both be dead in seconds.
The only reason I drew my own weapon and threatened to fire was as a distraction, in the hope that Wyl could escape if I stalled them.
I have to get Wyl to leave. The farther he is from the ship, the safer he will be.
But how? He seems determined to stubbornly put himself in harm’s way for my sake, no matter how strongly I caution against it.
I do not understand his reasoning. By all counts, I have superior survivability, able to last longer against nearly any foe.
My organic components alone would tolerate five times the Grivaldan neurotoxin as Wyl’s body.
Even then, I could still last several minutes more, operating on synthetic parts only.
Wyl’s death would be almost instantaneous.
If PACU had not allied with these pirates, I could convince Wyl to leave. My father might not have been a strong enough threat otherwise.
“Wyl, I have primed an escape pod for you. The nav is set for Klymani Prime. Please go.”
“That’s nice,” he says, his gun still trained on the intruders. “Only problem is that I’m not going anywhere without you.”
How has humanity survived this long as a species? “You are wasting time. Go.”
“It’s only a waste if this doesn’t work.” His tone is cryptic. “Love ya, doll.”
Then, stepping slowly towards the Grivaldans, he reaches inside a pocket on his spacesuit with his free hand.
What happens next is so fast that even I can barely process it.
The two Grivaldans surge forward, gaping maws open, as Wyl whips his hand out.
Two energy grenades fly towards them. The aliens move to chomp down on the grenades—with their speed and bite strength, they could easily destroy the weapons before they activate—but as their open mouths reach the devices, two projectile gunshots echo in the corridor.
The Grivaldans’ heads erupt, bursting wide, as the grenades ignite.
My father turns on his heel and runs away from the beasts, whose bodies follow suit as the explosions rip through their digestive tracts.
Explosions do not occur in one direction only, though.
The flames also spew out of what is left of the aliens’ mouths, coming right for Wyl and me.
I move to retreat, but somehow Wyl moves faster.
He grabs my arm and shoots past me, dragging me back to the nearest hallway, slinging me around the corner, and coming to a stop with his body covering mine.
A wave of heat blasts past us, followed by the clattering of debris and shrapnel rolling down the corridor we just vacated.
The bulkhead slams shut, indicating a hull breach, and the ship lurches again as the Grivaldan clamps release us.
I connect to our ship’s sensors and watch as the pirate ship veers away from us and launches into lightspeed.
We stand there, Wyl’s body pressed to mine, his lungs heaving for air, and I can only stare in awe at him. Humans are not normally possessed of such speed. How did he do that?
Before I can ask, he presses the release on his helmet and tosses it to the ground. His arms engulf me, and he kisses me with a ravenous hunger. As I moan with pleasure, he paws at my suit, fumbling with it in an attempt to remove it.
“W-wyl … Wyl!” I stammer as I try to halt his advancements. “My father—If he survived …”
He presses his forehead to mine and groans. “Seriously? I just blew up two fucking Grivaldans. Are you saying there’s a chance your old man made it out of there before the explosion blasted a hole in the hull?”
“Yes.” I pause to consider. “Or he survived the explosion and was ejected into space with the breach. Either way, he could very well be alive.”
Wyl sighs, running his hands through his hair as he steps back. “So, what—are you saying that thing’ll come back here? I don’t suppose I can use the grenade trick again if it does, huh? Bet it learns from stuff like that.”
“He learns, yes. PACU will return, and likely the same maneuver will not be effective a second time.”
“How can you be so sure? Maybe I scared it—er, him off.”
I shake my head. “No, Wyl. You heard him; he has remote access. There is also a beacon within me to guide him to us. Even if we reach the Klymani outpost, he will still find us. I do not believe he is done with me.”
“Us, doll. He’s not done with us.” Wyl tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and pulls me close. “It’s you and me through the cosmos. We’re a package deal.”
The sentiment is sweet, but it only serves to remind me of his words before he attacked.
Searching his eyes with mine, I gaze into those brown depths for a sign of sincerity.
“Wyl … Did you mean it?”
“Mean what?” He keeps his visual focus on me, but his hands resume wandering. “That PACU will have to deal with both of us together?”
“No, Wyl. Before you killed the Grivaldans. You said something important.”
He grins and leans forward as he finally manages to unzip my suit. “I did, huh?” Wyl’s lips meet mine while his hand caresses my breast. He teases my nipple with his thumb and forefinger, and my core produces edible lubricant in response as my arousal subprograms take hold.
With my hands buried in his hair, I hold Wyl to me. I wish I could merge our bodies into one being, forever connected, but I know it is impossible.
I whimper as he pulls away from my lips. The space between us seems unbearably cold after the heat of his kiss.
“Do not leave,” I beg.
“Relax, doll … I’m not going anywhere.” He flashes a smile as he sheds his own suit and kneels at my feet, gazing up at me. “C’mon, don’t be shy; take yours off, too. I have a feeling words aren’t going to convince you that I meant what I said, so I’m putting my money where my mouth is.”
Following his instructions, I remove my suit, though his phrasing confuses me. “I do not understand what currency has to do wi—”
A shocked gasp cuts me off, my own mouth betraying me as Wyl latches onto my lower sensory node with his mouth.
He alternates soft, rhythmic suction with gentle flicks of his tongue.
Those brown eyes gaze up at me from his position on the floor, and a strange sensation flows through me, a feeling like I am the only being in the galaxy that matters to him, the only one he deems important.
His pupils are dilated wide, and my skin muffles his moans.
While he tends to my node—my clitoris, if I were an organic being—his hands stroke my hips and thighs, taking care with my injury and adding a new dimension to the sensory input.
I try to maintain intimate eye contact, but within minutes my eyes roll back in my head. My hips grind against his face, and I am torn between concern for Wyl’s ability to breathe and my own selfish desires as I chase the greatest gift my father gave me:
The gift of orgasm, of pleasure from sexual stimulation.
A distant part of my main processor realizes that PACU’s threat still looms, that we are not safe, that we should stop this and get to Klymani Prime while we still can …
… But the rest of me quivers and shakes as Wyl penetrates me with his tongue, the wet muscle lapping up my lubricant, diving deep.
My screams echo in the corridor, and when he replaces his tongue with three long fingers, pumping hard while fixating his oral attentions on my hub, I short-circuit.
Fluid sprays out of me in pulsating squirts, coating Wyl’s face and bare chest.
I don’t have time to recover before Wyl surges to his feet, wraps my legs around his slim waist, and impales me with his cock.
The way he fills me … by my maker, he is perfect.
I cannot imagine another man filling me like he does.
Every inch of me registers intense pleasure from the smooth friction of his shaft sliding in and out, of his head slamming into the flexible base of my chamber—which, I have discovered through sexual contact with Wyl, has nearly as many pleasure receptors as my hub.
I tense my walls, and Wyl cries out, muttering a curse before increasing both the speed and force of his thrusts.
“Fuck, Aura … Your pussy is so Goddamned perfect …”
He kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. His chest smears my fluids—my synthetic cum—onto my breasts, which he palms gently, spreading the mess even farther. We will need to shower before we reach the Klymani outpost.
I should offer him similar words of praise … wax poetic about his size and skill … but my words have abandoned me.
When we climax in sync, both screaming at the top of our lungs, Wyl remains inside me for several minutes. He kisses me softly and strokes my hips, thighs, and breasts as we both fight to catch our breath. I find it odd that I am panting despite not having a physical need to breathe.
By the time Wyl speaks again, I have almost forgotten what prompted this exercise.
“To answer your question, Aura,” he cups my cheeks in his warm hands and stares into my eyes so intently that I become self-conscious, “yes. I meant what I said. The feeling has been there for days now, but with the possibility of us dying any second … I couldn’t hide it any longer.”
“Wyl …”
“Aura, I love you. I don’t care if it’s illegal. I don’t care if I could be executed for it. My heart wants nothing else, no one else. You—”
Much as I hate to interrupt him while he gives his speech, an urgent message comes through the ship’s coms, urgent enough to override my controls. Unable to stop myself, I read the message aloud.
“This is Galactic Authority vessel VQ-Delta-9. We have a warrant to search this vessel. Our tractor beam has locked onto your ship. Do not resist.”