The Virgin’s Cyborg by Candice Gilmer

6

Shall I just die now? Eleanor thought to herself as the Charro mercs stared at her. Their orange skin and tails bobbed behind them like snakes bouncing around. Their freighter smelled like sweat and urine, and she wondered if any of them had ever cleaned anything.

Likely, it seemed worse since she knelt on the floor in the middle of their dirty hold.

The floor had a grit to it. She could feel it through the dress on her knees. She convinced herself it was from ship engines and the ever-found space dust that could get anywhere on a ship when it was in space for a long time.

Long haul freighters were dusty due to the space dust they encountered during sub-light travel.

One of the privileges of being a princess, she never had to travel on sub-par vessels. Everything she was ever in was the best possible version of that kind of transport.

Some would call her spoiled, but she never had a choice in the matter, either. It was expected, as being a princess came with certain duties and standards.

This ship was not one of those standards.

Even the engine noises had a sort of hiccup in it like it wasn't sure how to do its job. She was more afraid this ship would fall out of the sky than her escape pod when it had a hole in the side. She'd seen the spot when she'd boarded Jedriek's ship. She could not thank the universe enough, knowing how lucky she was that she didn't get sucked out of that hole. Why would her own people shoot her down?

Or why the Charro? Why were they a part of this? They were mercenaries. They were hired by the bounty. Granted, the Terran Empire could pay well if they did hire mercs to do a job, but this was above the usual "go get this law breaker and bring him in" type of deal.

She looked over her captors. They did not look like the type who cared much about what kind of job they got. Or the filth of their ship.

She grimaced as a smell radiated toward her from one of the Charro who had passed gas. Loudly.

"What's the matter, girly? Don't like the smell?" He burst out laughing.

She bit her lip to keep from speaking. She just didn't know what they were going to do. Or worse, what else they might do. They'd already pulled her and Jedriek out of the sky. What was next on their agenda?

Gassy Charro had his thick tail on the floor, supporting his bodyweight as he aimed his weapon at them both.

"Well, isn't this fun," came another Charro from one of the blast doors. He carried a large blast rifle on his shoulder. Not ready to be fired, but there, so they didn't miss it. It was the kind that blew holes in walls. Or humanoids. "We thought this was going to be just some Rhimodian target practice, and look what we found, instead!"

Obviously, the leader. He had the biggest mouth of the mercs, so he must be. There was something about him that said he was the one in charge. The others looked to him regarding what they had planned for them. Were they transporting them or just killing them on the spot?

The waiting was the worst for her.

She would rather, if they're going to kill them, that they'd just get it over and done with.

Eleanor doubted that Jedriek would be spared, so most likely, they were going to kill him. He was probably considered collateral damage.

With her? She could not imagine. Actually, yes, she could imagine what they would do. None of it was pretty or fun, either. She'd heard plenty of stories of space pilots and mercs who take advantage of a female prisoner for a while before they delivered the bounty. Whomever put a prize on her, that person needed to have his head chopped off.

This was going to get ugly quick, she thought to herself. And I just had to come to do this, didn't I? I just had to be with my sister. Support and help my sister stop this war.

Who were we kidding? How could we, two young women, end a war and bring a peaceful resolution to the conflict?

We were stupid.

Crazy.

Foolish.

She prayed her sister was not facing this kind of adversary. Hopefully, she was already back where she needed to be and sipping wine, wondering what was taking her so long. That she was just fine, back on their main world, and feeling great. Yeah. That's what she was going to hold onto. That was what she was needed to think, that her sister was fine. And these guys were unable to find her. That she was okay.

Because this was her vision, her dream to stop the suffering of the Terran people. Caoimhe needed to live to make that happen.

No matter what happened to Eleanor. Caoimhe had protected her enough in her life. It was time for Eleanor to protect her sister for once.

"And a pretty one too. All dressed in her red finery."

Ugh. Was he still talking?

She shook her head.

She didn't know what he was saying, but she didn't care. It didn't matter.

"Her face is covered up, though, Boss. Maybe she's ugly."

"Doesn't matter, fine clothing like that. She's someone, that's for certain," Boss said. "But the question is, little Terran, who are you? Because if you're important, we might keep you alive. But if you're not, well, we'll just kill you and get it over with."

The boss looked away. Then back. "Well, maybe not kill you right away. The boys may want to have a little fun."

Out of the corner of her eye, through the mesh fabric, she could see her Rhimodian rescuer. Held down by two Charro and a droid, his muscles pulsed from the shocks of whatever the droid was doing to him.

It stabbed at her that they were hurting him. They'd taken off his helmet, and she had been able to see his face for the first time. Like the rest of him, he had strong features--a wide, square jaw, short, cropped hair, and white eyes. She couldn't be sure what he looked at because he didn't have a traditional dark iris, but she knew he was watching her. She just had that feeling. At least she had someone watching over her. She was going to need all the help she could get to get out of this one.

She wasn't best friends with him or anything, but the fact he'd saved her, even when he had no need to, twice, in fact, now angered her that she could not think of a way to return the favor. Surely, she could think of a way to get through this and get them both out of this mess.

It wasn't like when she was younger, and she could cry that she was the Imperial Princess, and it would get her out of most situations. Too many people, no matter what humanoid species, did not want to irritate the Terran Empire.

Hmm...

She had an idea, but it was far out there. They obviously didn't know who she was. Maybe she could work that to her advantage. Keep them off balance?

And now she had to figure out the best way to get out of this situation with these monsters.

Decision time.

Who she was may be her only advantage here.

Rather, who she told them she was.

She ripped the scarf off her face. "I am Imperial Terran Princess Caoimhe London Montgale Bron. If you lay one finger on me, I will bring the weight of the entire Terran military down upon you and your worthless lives. I will make you wish you'd never seen my face."

Jedriek gasped.

Which made her laugh. Or rather, it would have, had the circumstances been different. But she had to maintain her composure. This was a make-or-break moment. She had to convince them of her power and position.

"Well, you are a pretty girl. With your deviant eyes. And we know who you are now."

"And you will regret ever coming near me."

"On the contrary," Boss said. "You, my dear, are exactly who we were hoping to find."

She held her head back, shifted her posture as best she could on the floor, so she seemed more confident and strong. "What do you think you can do with me?"

"Whatever we want," he said, leaning down to her, a snarl on his face. "As long as you're dead in the end."

Jedriek growled, and his skin electrified, for there was no other way to describe it. His veins lit up with white lines like lightning flew through him. His cyborg systems powered up or something incredibly strong because he was not staying where he was. He squeezed his arms together, slamming the two Charro who held him together. Their heads cracked, and he flung them toward Boss.

"You will not touch her," he snarled.

Boss stumbled to the side when the Charro hit him.

Eleanor didn't waste any time hanging around to see what happened next. She leaped up and ran across the ship bay. Were they still in the atmosphere? Or had they headed up into the stars? She had no ideathough, and no time to think about it.

She just ran away.

Gassy Charro came after her. He was a lot taller and had much longer legs than she did. In a few strides, he'd caught her.

Shoved her into a wall.

"No, you're not going anywhere, girly." He stabbed a blade in her side.

The point ripped through her layers and scratched her skin. She felt a drop of blood going down inside her dress, a surprise because of all the layers. He must have stabbed hard but not have anticipated all the fabric.

He shifted the blade as though he thought he'd be able to control her movements with it.

"We're going to enjoy this. Never had a princess before. You'd better make the story worthwhile."

She thought she was going to be sick.

Maybe she should be...

His tail slithered almost like a snake around both their bodies. It floated right in front of her face.

Eleanor had not had much in the way of formal training for fighting, only the most basic self-defense. She had always assumed she'd have guards with her.

Today she regretted the oversight. All she had were her own instincts. And maybe a little luck.

Possibly.

Perhaps she should have Veta teach her some techniques when they get back. Again, she assumed Veta was with Caoimhe and the others, and they were all fine. Drinking wine and wondering why she was taking so long.

No. She would not assume the worst.

No. None of them were fighting for their lives. They were fine. They had to be.

On the other side of the ship bay, Jedriek and the Boss fought. Slams and clatters and punches filled the air. But no blaster fire.

That was good, she felt.

The tail got close to her face. Ran down her cheek. It wasn't slimy, but it sure did stink. She winced as it passed by again. Maybe it was supposed to intimidate her.

"Oh, I will make it worth it." She bit it as hard as she could. Tried not to gag because she didn't want to speculate how filthy that tail was. And it tasted worse than it looked. The Charro cried out and released her. Sort of.

She jerked out as she shoved an elbow into his ribs. She broke free enough to start running, but he caught her by her robes.

She twisted and cried as she worked the outer clasps, trying to get the layers off so she could flee.

In the distance, more thumping.

"You're not getting away," he said.

She didn't turn back to look. She just wanted to get that robe free. Get herself free. She could do this.

She just had to--

A distinct cracking of metal against skull made her look.

Jedriek had slammed his forearm into the Charro's head. It was enough force that his head bent at an awkward angle. One of those angles that couldn't be repaired. His grip on her disconnected, and he fell to the ground.

Jedriek turned to her. "Are you well, princess?"

Eleanor ran to him, she was going to hug him but stopped a hand's width from him. "I am, uh. Fine. Thank you." She doubted the cyborgs were big huggers.

He stared at her, his white gaze on her eyes.

She forced herself to look away from him. The anomaly, the imperfection of her appearance, having these blue eyes. They weren't dark and formidable like the Terrans were supposed to be. She was weird. And everyone made sure she knew it too. She tucked her hand behind her back. At least she can hide that imperfection.

"We need to get you out of here."

"No doubt," she said.

She looked around. "Where is your ship?"

"Over here, I believe," he said.

"Are there more Charro on the ship?"

"My scans say there are four more on the ship."

The way he said it felt like he had more to say. "And?"

"There are also some Terran soldiers."

She blinked.

Oh no. They would know immediately who she was.

The Charro? They were likely as cluelessas these here. But Terran officers? They would know she wasn't Caoimhe. They'd recognize her blue eyes and be certain she was the other sibling, the spare, and not as appealing as perfect Caoimhe. "Yes, we need to get out of here as soon as we can.."

"Are you comfortable riding on me again?"

Her cheeks blushed at the implications of his words hit her, and she looked away.

"If it gets us out of here faster, then yes. I'm all about it." Pressed against him had been strange at first, but she was almost used to it. And how could she complain, truly? He was incredibly well shaped--she'd love to explore those...

Focus.

You must stop that derailed thinking, she told herself.

It was the kind of thing a mother would say.

Wouldn't she?

Bianca would have said it, and she was the closest thing Eleanor could remember of having a mother.

She couldn't help admiring his backside though, as he sprinted ahead, looking for the ship.

Nearby, they found it secured. The landing gear had been attached to the hull by bars, probably so he couldn't just fly it away.

"Inhibitors are not good." He started to yank at the bars holding the fighter in position.

"What can I do?" she asked.

He glanced at the locking mechanisms, then at her. "Watch for more to come."

His eyes went back to the ship's landing gear and he held out his hand. A large blaster appeared, like the metal just poured out of him and manufactured it, and this one was bigger than what he'd had before.

He fired off two quick shots into each restraint on the ship.

It damaged the landing gear, and his ship teetered off balance. He held up his hand, and the weapon disappeared back into the metal around his gauntlet.

"What did you do?"

"What I had to." He started to climb up to the cockpit. "They will be here soon." He held out his hand to help her up.

She accepted his help and marveled at how his hand swallowed hers.

How secure it felt. And how trusting.

She brushed off the thought. She couldn't be worried about trust right now. She'll explain later about her identity. This wasn't the time.

He climbed into the ship, and she laid on top of him like before. It made her blush as she got back into position. His body felt so strong. She listened to his breathing and the beat of his heart.

The fact that she could feel his heart beating surprised her. The thin flight suit he wore allowed her to feel every bulging muscle. How that protected him, she couldn't imagine, exposing every bit of him like it did.

The ship sealed around them when more attackers came. Both Charro and Terrans yelled to stop them, to keep them in the Charro vessel.

Jedriek was even more determined to get out.

Blaster fire rained down on the ship from all sides. "Do you think you can negotiate through that kind of hostility?" Jedriek asked as he piloted the fighter toward the blast doors.

"I will do what I must," she replied.

* * *

Fortunately,the Charro ship had only been in orbit of Sol-2, so Jedriek started to head back down to the surface as soon as he broke free. As they flew away, he blasted the ship in a few spots from outside, claiming the shots would shut down their sensors so the two of them could get away clean.

"At least we can breathe now," Eleanor said. They had no communication with any of the other Rhimodians, so they were alone.

She was alone with this alien.

What was she going to do with him? As she ran her fisted hand down the curve of his side, she could think of things she might like to look into. She may not be able to stretch her fingers out, but she could still feel.

He tensed under her touch.

She pulled her hand back and tucked it behind her back. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Accepted," he replied, almost as quietly.

She hated that all she could think about though, as she laid against him, was what he might have been like as her first, and not that unimpressive experience with the guard, Colt. Why she found him so attractive, she wasn't sure.

Well, the size of him. That was one thing. He was thick and strong and large and made her feel very protected.

But was it the need for protection that made her so attracted to him?

Maybe that was why she picked a guard in the first place.

To be with someone who protected her from her father?

That was a psychological discussion for another time, for certain.

"What is the plan?" she asked. "Where to next?"

"I have a place in mind." He zoomed through the atmosphere. So far, no one was following them. Whether the fighters had regrouped, or if the Rhimodians had just contained things, she didn't know. He said only that the stars were clear. They flew around the planet to the dark side, opposite the gas giant. Not that she could see anything, other than it just got dark and seemed to stay dark.

Looking at his chest was pretty much all she had. Some telemetry was visible if she twisted, but even that was hard to make out. Instead, she relied on what she felt.

Like the ship descending, it started going down slowly, then took a sharp pitch.

"We are going underground," he said moments before the engine noise shifted.

The ambient light diminished even more. The glow from the controls seemed to be the only light around them. More light came on around them, but it was different. It was inside light.

They traveled for a few minutes, at least it seemed that way-- wherever they were going, they were heading deep into it. She could not tell if he'd sped up or slowed down. She liked to think he'd slowed, since they were supposed to be underground, but the engine did not reveal much.

He touched the ship down gently, and as the fighter's engines went into rest mode, he opened the cockpit to let her out.

She rose up and was surprised by the first thing she smelled--clean air. She didn't realize she had been missing it on the Charro vessel until she was climbing out of Jedriek's ship and all that she could not smell.

They were in a loading bay, similar in size to the one on the Charro ship, but this one was far nicer and cleaner. Good ambient light--not too bright, not too dim, and everything looked much cleaner here. Used, but cleaner. No other ships were parked, but storage containers lined the edges of the room.

She started to climb out. A loud thud made her twist around. Two heavy blast doors had sealed behind them, echoing through the chamber. The sound bounced off the wall, a finality to it.

A good kind of finality. Heavy blast doors meant that no strangers could get into the room without making a lot of noise.

The place seemed empty. Noise echoed off the walls, and it seemed a little cold. Not frozen, but cold like abandoned.

She pushed herself off him, careful not to press on any intimate parts, before climbing out of the ship. He helped her up and out so she could slide down the side.

She took a few steps away as he got out, her footfalls echoing on the floor, though her attention remained on Jedriek and his stoic manner. She appreciated that she did not feel any male arousal while flying--though really, how would she know? Even in his normal state, he looked massive.

And yes, she could make out every detail of his body. She could probably count body hairs if she wanted to. That's how tight the suit was that he wore. He sat up and pulled off his helmet, and it gave her a chance to really look at him.

He indeed was a handsome figure. Giant-like but handsome. In any other situation, she would have admired his form, for certain. This was not the time for such outlying thoughts.

Probably why she felt them so strongly.

Especially since it seemed he was intrigued by her as well. He kept staring. A strange sort of look on his face. She couldn't be sure if it was attraction or revulsion.

Enough people looked at her both ways; she couldn't always be sure whether it was one or the other.

"Those doors are very sturdy. We should be safe here for quite some time." He turned away, and oddly enough, she missed the way he looked at her.

She truly must be tired. Or hungry. Or have trauma.

Trauma was likely.

Though she'd had enough of it in her life, just that she could remember, she should be able to recognize it when it happened.

"Maybe I need a medical scan," she muttered.

His attention snapped back at her. "Do you need medical attention?"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I was muttering to myself. "

"If you do not feel well, I can scan you and make sure that you are operating at top parameters."

She chuckled. "I am sure I am not operating at top parameters, but I'll be fine. Some food. Water. Rest. I'll be just fine. This is not my first time dealing with trauma."

"I am here to assist you in any way possible. If you are traumatized, I will do whatever is necessary to help you work through it."

She smiled. "I appreciate that. But I will be all right."

"Only if you are sure." He came down off the ship and held out the survival bag.

"I am." She stretched her arms and even attempted to straighten out her crooked fingers, though it didn't do much good. "Though I would really love someplace where I can get out of all these robes."

He nodded. "Let me show you."

He led her out of the bay and down a hallway.

The hallway, like the rest of the place, was eerily quiet. "What is this place?"

"It is a mining facility."

She figured that much. "What do you mine?"

"Citritite crystals. There is a strong supply of them here."

"I didn't know citritite was available this far out in the galaxy. Most supplies are closer to the galactic center, aren't they?" It made them harder to come by this far out on the galactic spiral. Also made them all the more expensive.

"That is correct, which is why we were so surprised to find it when we were initially mining here."

"Do you sell it?"

"We are building our reserves for it to begin sales. Much of our tech use citritite as a power source, so we utilize what we have. Though Master System has, in the last few years, had us start holding some back for reserves."

Interesting. That will prove very important in the negotiations. Not that she wanted to take it, but it will give the Rhimodians some powerful positions on certain things in the negotiations for peace.

She stopped. "Wait. If the Emperor knew there was citritite here, he wouldn't stop to get this system out of your control." The crystal was hard to acquire, but also highly in demand as it helped power more advanced modes of transportation and technology.

"I do not know if it is common knowledge."

"It would certainly be motivational." Because, of course, her father would want the system if it had resources he could exploit to his own needs. She rubbed her temples. What else did the Rhimodians have that her father would want?

There must be more. He'd been fighting so hard to take this system away from the cyborgs. His excuse was that they were a danger. A threat against the Terran Empire.

Based on Jedriek, she would not consider them a threat. So far he seemed more loyal than the guards she'd grown up around. At least, he didn't turn on her. He could have told those Charro who she was and left her there to be captured or die. But he didn't. He fought to protect her.

She trusted that.

Admired it.

They walked a little further in silence, the only soundwas their feet echoing on the hard floor. They came to a door, and he palmed it open. Inside, there was a flat table with panels over the head of it. More than one, she realized. Large, long flat tables, each one attached to the wall with panels all around them.

She glanced around. "This is a medical treatment room."

He nodded.

She turned back to him. "I told you, I'm fine."

"I know. I thought you might like it better than the quarters here."

She raised her eyebrow. "What is the difference?"

"This room, you can lay down. The table conforms to your shape, and you can rest."

It took her a moment. "Do the quarters not have beds in them?"

He shook his head. "We do not need to lay down to rest. We can recharge and meditate standing."

"So you stand, like a ro--" She stopped herself from saying 'robot.'

He knew, she could tell by the way he looked at her, that he knew what she was going to say. "I am not a robotic automaton."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean--"

"I am flesh as well. And I do have emotions. While they are repressed, we do have them."

She looked down. "I'm sorry. It was not my intention to offend you. You have saved my life multiple times in the short period I have known you. For that I am grateful." She bowed.

He made a grunty affirmation, but said nothing else.

She glanced around the room, hoping they were over her obvious faux pax, and stretched her arms as best she could in the dress layers. "So, what are you going to do?"

"Rest, most likely."

"Are you going to stay in here?"

"Outside the door. I will be there to keep you protected."

"Doesn't sound very restful."

"There is an input dock outside the door. I will plug in and let my systems get whatever updates are available. Download any necessary new modifications to the facility."

She wasn't sure what that meant, but it sounded important. "Well, okay then," she said and started unbuttoning her overdress.

He took a few steps back. "I will leave you now."

"You're fine. I may need your help anyway." She twisted so she could see the hole the Charro had stabbed in the dress. She couldn't quite see it, but she could feel the size of it with her finger. "He did some damage," she muttered.

"What do you need?" He asked.

She started undoing the dress in the front and was able to get the outer layer off. She tossed it on the bed. Sure enough, the mattress shifted to support the weight.

Well, now that looked cozy.

"The back of this has some hooks I don't think I can get on my own."

He crossed to her, his footsteps sure, but surprisingly not that loud as he came over.

"I can assist you with that, Imperial Princess." When he got behind her, she could feel his body heat. The size of him probably should have enveloped her, but it didn't. It felt secure instead. She felt petite as he started to loosen the clasps.

"How do you dress if you cannot fasten these on your own?"

"We have dressers that do it for us."

"Every day?"

"No, not every day. Just on special occasions. And this was supposed to be a very special occasion. We were coming here to stop a war." Her eyes started to water. "Worked out so well, didn't it?"

"I doubt that you expected the issues you have had today."

"My own people tried to kill us," she said. And that was the truth. No matter what she told herself, it was honestly what happened. Somehow, for some reason, her own people have turned against her.

"And what good does that do for you, Imperial Princess?"

"Your Majesty."

"My apologies. Your Majesty."

"Formality is probably a foolish gesture at this point, but if I don't practice it, then why have it?"

He didn't answer her, instead, continued to undo the clasps on her back.

"Why is your hand curled up?" he asked.

She glanced at her left hand. "It was severely damaged when my mother died."

"Why didn't you repair it?"

"We did what we could." She looked at her curled-up hand. "It is fine."

"If it is not functional, you should have it repaired."

"Sometimes, injuries are worth keeping."

They stood there in awkward silence as he pulled at the hooks, the sound of the material releasing the only sound.

"Here. This is unfastened."

"Thank you," she said and pulled down that particular layer.

He started to walk away.

"Please don't go. There's more." Her head started hurting pretty badly all of a sudden, and she rubbed her temples.

He paused and stared at her again. "May I scan you? You seem to be in pain."

"Fine," she said. "I get headaches. I have since my mother died."

He held up his gauntlet and let it run its little light over her. Eleanor half-expected she would need to move or do something, but no, she had to merely stand there, and he ran it over her. A beam covered her, and then it was done. It took the system only a few moments to analyze its data.

"What is the verdict?"

"You are minorly injured. Injection of ten percent nanites required to heal all your systems."

"Wait, what?"

He had his arm raised, and a tube was coming out, a needle on the end, just kind of floating in the air, like the Charro tails. "Nanites are microscopic robotic repair cells. They merge with your system and fix any internal injuries to maintain your system."

"I know what a nanite is. You're not the only ones who use nanite medical droids. Why do you have Terran bio-chemical information? We are at war. You shouldn't have access to our internal systems."

"We do."

"Why?"

"I could not tell you."

"You don't know, or you can't tell me?"

"I do not know."

She sighed. "Look, I don't know if I want your little robots running around inside me." Her headache picked that moment to have an intense hit, making the pain throb worse.

"Concussion headache pain. You will continue to get the sharp pains until I treat you or when this migraine stops. It is your choice."

"Well, when you say it like that," she muttered.

She wasn't a fan of nanite medicine, but what choice did she have? She needed to get this headache under control. She held out her arm. His needle hit her, and it only took a second for the nanite fluid to enter her system.

"I have had these headaches all my life. I have been told there is nothing that can be done for them."

"You have not had Rhimodian nanites."

"You seem very sure of yourself."

"I am half-robot. I know exactly what those nanites can do. You'll thank me later."

She smiled. "You seem very confident."

"I am. I have seen them fix much more intricate problems than headaches."

"This is a little more than a headache," she said. "These will knock me down, sometimes for days. Yet another flaw."

"Are you flawed?" he asked

"Some believe so."

"The nanites will fix whatever flaws you may have. That is what they do."

"So they will make me perfect?" she asked.

"Are you not now?"

She waved her hand over her face. How could he not tell? If they knew all this stuff about Terran humanoid body systems, surely they'd know what a perfect Terran was. "Can you not see them?"

He shook his head. "What are you gesturing to?"

She blinked. Pointed at her eyes.

"Your eyes? What is wrong with them?" He pulled up his gauntlet. "The scans reported that they were working at peak efficiency."

"But they're the wrong color."

"Why?"

"I don't know why. I didn't make them. I was born with them like this."

"No, I mean, why are they wrong?"

She paused. "Because..."

He waited.

She sighed. "Because they are not what is considered perfect."

"By who?"

"My father, I guess. He is the one that reminds me how flawed I am and how worthless I am." Saying the words out loud was like validating them. Giving them power. It punched her in the gut, and the confidence she'd been pretending to have evaporated.

Jedriek touched her. He put his hand on her shoulder. She turned into him.

He wrapped his arms around her in the most gentle and comforting hug she'd ever had.

"You are beautiful."

"You flatter me."

"I speak the truth."

She tipped back and looked at his face. He looked down at her, his white eyes meeting her gaze, and even though he didn't have a pupil or an iris, she knew he was looking right back at her. "You are too kind. And I have dumped my emotional and private feelings on you like you were a therapist."

"What is a therapist?"

"Someone you talk to about your emotional state of being."

"We do not have those."

She smiled. "I am not surprised." She released the hug, and he let her go. She had to get the rest of these layers off. No more emotional outbursts from her today. He let go of her, but it was apparent he hesitated before he walked back over toward the doorway.

She smiled at him. "Thank you. But I must get out of these clothes." She walked over to the bag and started going through it. "So tell me about yourself, Jedriek. Who are you? Do you have parents? Friends? A wife and kids? Tell me who you are."

"I am Jedriek, of the -Ek batch. We are the youngest and the largest Rhimodians who have been activated."

"Activated? Do you mean born?"

"We are grown to consciousness, yes. Roughly the same thing. I am a pilot. I also go with my unit to different space stations to sell our exports and get needed supplies that we cannot produce ourselves. I do like going there."

Eleanor removed one more layer, and she could do most of it by herself, except the clasp just behind her neck. "If you would, please, get that clasp."

He was able to unhook it with a flick of his wrist and crossed back to the doorway, where he was facing her again.

"Thank you. You were saying you liked going to the space stations? Why is that?"

"Many different humanoids there. I enjoy meeting them. I also enjoy the pleasure ladies."

Eleanor had to think. Pleasure ladies? "The prostitutes?"

"Yes, that is another word. I like them a lot."

Eleanor suddenly felt rather strange around him. Did he not know? She stopped. Because he was a different species, a different culture. Not all humanoids saw sex workers the same way the Terrans did.

Strangely enough, it also made her mad to know that he would see paid sex workers.

Instead of what?

Her?

How could she be jealous? It wasn't like they were together. So why did it bother her? It made no sense. Sure, she was attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? But she'd only met him today. What he did in the past was his business, just like what she did in her past was hers.

Get a grip, girl,she told herself.

"Why do you like them?" she asked. She was trying to make conversation. Really. That was it.

Do you really want to hear this? She asked herself. Well, too late now. Already asked.

"They are pretty. They tell me that they like me because I'm so big."

She snorted.

"What?"

"Well, sir, you are big. There's no doubting that." Her gaze ran over him.

And what the hell.

Did he just twitch?

She turned toward the bag because she knew her cheeks had to be as red as her dress--they had certainly flushed hot enough. She started digging through it, looking for something. Anything. Water tablets. Something to not look at him and his twitching body parts.

If he knew he'd done it, he didn't act like it.

No smug expression or anything.

Maybe it was a natural reaction.

Yes. She was going to go with that.