The Virgin’s Cyborg by Candice Gilmer

7

Jedriek could not believe his luck.

Or his bad luck.

He was not sure yet which it was.

But the princess with the eyes he'd been mesmerized with before was now under his protection. From the moment she'd taken off the covering and he'd seen those eyes, he knew. He had to protect her with every part of himself.

Her eyes had been powerful on the holographic image, but to see her in person was far more intense.

Like the air had been drained from him.

She was truly breathtaking.

He stood at attention, attempting not to stare, for her eyes were so startling, he wanted nothing more than to admire them. He had seen other colored eyes before from other humanoids. Still, for some reason, hers jumped out at him far more than anyone else's ever had.

"Do you go there a lot?" she asked.

"Where, again?"

"The pleasure women," she said. There was a different timber in her voice. This, for some reason, was an uncomfortable subject for her.

"Not as often as I like, no," he said.

"You like to see them?"

Something about the way she spoke seemed almost hostile. A warning tingled in the back of his mind. What it meant, he wasn't quite sure, but he knew it was something. He'd had that sensation before, and it was usually right before a fight broke out.

"They are a means to an end," he said. That sounded safe enough.

"What, do you get cravings or something?" she asked.

"Do you know of The Craving?" he asked. He was not aware that Terrans knew about the Craving. But if she did, it would make explaining things much easier.

"I was kidding," she said. "Mostly."

"I am not. Do you know of it?"

"No. I guess I don't." She continued working on removing her dress layers. It was curious how many sections she had on. Each layer she removed revealed more of her shape to him, making the Cravings even more potent.

"We experience The Craving. It is part of our primitive makeup."

"Your primitive makeup? What are you, exactly."

"Rhimodian."

"But you're cyborgs."

"We haven't always been. We were just primitives that lived on our homeworld. Then we were enhanced. And eventually, we became this." He held out his arms.

"Were you always so large?"

"I am the newest version. I am larger than many of my brethren. So no, usually they are not as large as I am."

"So, do you like it?"

"Like what?"

"Being a cyborg. Do you like it?"

"I have no choice."

"Of course you do. Take out the parts. then you could be your primitive self."

"If I do that, I will not survive."

"You said yourself that you were enhanced. So just take them out."

"The enhancements started our evolution. I am the latest version of this evolution."

"Will you die without your cybernetic parts?"

"I will."

She started folding up her layers, left in a simple white dress thing. It gathered at her waist and hung down almost to her feet. "I'm sorry. I'm being too personal."

"Why?"

She shrugged. "It felt like I was asking too much."

"You cannot ask me too much."

"Do not tempt me."

"I will do whatever I can for you."

"Anything I ask?"

"If it is within my power, of course, I will."

She raised her eyebrow, and her expression shifted like she was about to test that.

He might have told her too much.

Because it was true, he would do whatever it was that she needed or requested of him. That was his programming. But for her, in particular? The girl with the sparkling blue eyes? He would not hesitate.

"So kiss me."

He did not hesitate.

He strode over to her, cupped her chin in his hand, and leaned down.

She gasped.

He touched his lips to hers.

The feel of her skin touching his sent the Craving into overdrive. He hardened so fast it shocked him. Every part of his primal side kicked into gear. He wanted to yank her against him. To keep her soft curves against his lines. Imagine buring himself into her over and over.

She clutched at him, and her mouth opened.

He deepened the kiss, and she leaned into him. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her against him.

The taste of her burned on his lips in the most fantastic way.

She felt so wholly made for him. Even though she was smaller, she was his match. He felt it inside him. Where this came from, he didn't know. The primitive side. The part that the Rhimodian programming given to them by the Orlicians was supposed to dampen or make go away. That primitive part of himself seemed confident that this female was his match. His mate.

Which meant nothing.

Not in their world.

He pulled back.

She sighed. "That was, well..."

"Very nice," he said. "And pointless."

She blinked. "Pardon?"

"Pointless," he said.

Her posture shifted, and he wondered if she was going to throw something at her. She flexed her hands, making fists, then releasing them. She did it twice, staring at the floor as she did. Then when she brought those icy blue eyes back to him, they were suddenly colder than Sol-1 and its frozen tundra.

"While kissing may not be an important aspect for you and your robotic existence, for Terrans, it has meaning. To be told it is pointless is an insult of the highest order. Especially to a female."

He shook his head. "No disrespect. My words were not directed at you."

"Well, then, please. Enlighten me on why you would push me away and say that I am pointless. I am not pointless in any way. I am a treasured member of the royal family of the Terran Empire! You have no right to judge me. I am important. I have value!" She trembled as she spoke, her lips shaking and the words vibrating, almost cracking as she yelled at him.

"Please, Imperial Princess, you misunderstand." This had gone in a direction he had not expected.

"How is there something that I could not understand?" She came forward, but she was still shaking. She looked both angry and terrified, her face looking pale and her eyes brimming with tears.

He had to make this right. He had to fix this. How, he was not sure. A diplomat, he was not. "Forgive me," he said. "I am not a talker. I am better at fighting things."

"You seem to be fighting me well," she snarled back.

"I know. And I am not experienced in the nuance of Terran culture. I am here because I am strong."

"Because we little bitty girls don't know how to do things." The anger and fury in her voice sounded like he'd accidentally hit a topic she carried much passion for.

"Because you are the future of our people and your people. You are assets to protect. We have already seen that not everyone wants to see you succeed."

"True enough," she replied. "But I still am not pointless!"

"Please, Princess Caoimhe, you misunderstand."

She sighed. "Eleanor."

"Pardon?"

"I am not Caoimhe. I am Eleanor. The second daughter. The useless one." Her shoulders slumped, and her posture collapsed. Like she'd lost all the confidence he'd seen thus far.

"Useless? Why?"

"Because I am the second child. The spare. The one that is only around in case something happened to my older sister. She is the valuable one. She is the leader who is trying to make this peace happen and end the war. I am here to assist her in any way I can. Defend her and protect her."

"That does not sound useless."

"Well, I am." She rocked her head back and forth.

"Why did you lie?"

"Because if they thought I was my sister, I might have had more leverage with them because of the name."

"And if they had killed you?"

"Then they would have not killed my sister, and she would be safe somewhere else."

"You would sacrifice yourself to protect your sister."

She nodded. "My sister is all I have. And she is all the Terran Empire has to defeat my father. So would I die for my sister? Absolutely I would."

"And for yourself?"

"I would do what I had to for survival." She took a step toward him and crossed her arms. "And you need to tell me why kissing me was pointless."

"Back to that," he sighed.

"Yes. And I want a straight answer."

"You are not pointless." He took a step toward her. They were getting closer again. Though he did intend to engage in more primitive acts, the Craving roared to life, just being closer to her again. He would need to learn how to tamper these feelings down to continue to be around her.

"We call our primitive side the Craving. The Craving is usually pent-up sexual frustration that needs to be released. Hence the visits to the pleasure women on Disguised Serenity where we trade." That was not the only reason they went. The pleasure women had their purpose. Some were helpful when it came to information as well.

She did not give him time to explain. "So you get horney. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I am trying to explain."

"Well, you're doing a crappy job with it."

He gritted his teeth. She was frustrating! Obviously, she was not used to high-stress situations. Perhaps she brought out his own frustrations.

"Well, you are." She climbed up on one of the beds. "Oh wow. This is, uh..." She started to sink into the top, it sculpting around her. "Wow."

"It shapes to fit you."

"Obviously." She wiggled a little, and the bed was reshaped to match her. It seemed to almost swallow her up. She took a few moments to get settled and looked back at him. "Go on. You're horney. Cravings. More info."

"The Cravings remain, regardless of the programming the builders worked into our systems. They had strived to get rid of all of our primitive urges, including the need to mate." Mating was a lost prospect of their people. The Orlicians had made sure they could not mate without any assistance from them.

Hence now, they had no future for their people.

"Why would they stop you from mating?"

"There was not any value in it."

"Except children."

"Except for having offspring."

"So what do you do now? Do your people just not have urges with each other?"

"The Craving does not work that way most of the time."

"Why not? You can't crave your own people?"

"We do not have any females."

She blinked. "You're all men?"

He nodded. "We have no females to produce more offspring. Hence my word, 'pointless' earlier." The need to mate, to desire someone, was futile because nothing could come from it other than basic desire and short-term fulfillment. While they were not encouraged to couple with other female humanoids, it was not exactly promoted. However, they were not poorly looked on it for participating.

On the off chance that someone was able to produce offspring.

"Surely there are other humanoids who can carry your children!"

He shook his head. "We have looked but have yet to find one that has the proper genome to mix with ours and produce a viable child." So far, no race any of the Rhimodians had attempted to conceive with were able to make an embryo. Some humanoids had even been kind enough to donate their eggs for testing, in case it helped, according to records within Master System.

She shook her head. "No wonder the pleasure women like you."

"Why?"

"No risk of them having babies unexpectedly.'

"If one were to have our child, that woman would be adored by our people."

No truer words could be said--the Rhimodians would protect any child that was born with all that they had.

"I'm sure," Eleanor said. "I'm sorry."

"For?"

"Being a pain today. For pushing you about your people."

"Why? You asked questions. I answered them."

"I feel like I should answer some of your questions about the Terran Empire."

He nodded. "If you would like. I am here to keep you safe. You are not expected to be interrogated."

She held up her hand, a smile on her face. "I didn't sign up for an interrogation. I just thought if you had a question or two, that would be all right. After all, you answered mine. And I feel like I asked a lot of personal questions."

He nodded and thought about what he could ask about her people. He'd not met too many Terrans. Occasionally he'd run across one or two on Disguised Serenity. Some were there representing the Terran Empire, but some were not. Just humanoids looking for a place to be.

Then he had one. "Why all the heavy clothing?"

She smiled. "That's easy. It's a formal dress. Designed to make us look, special I guess. As part of Empirical culture, clothing shows status, and as a member of the Royal Family, I have to look a certain way, all the time. For a special occasion, like these peace talks, I need to have a particular look, something that shows my station."

"We do not have a wide clothing variety. We wear our lysteel body suits."

"Can you wear other things?"

"If they fit." He gestured to the pile of dressings on the table that he'd helped her remove. "But all of that. What does it mean?"

"My sister always said that when we wore our most formal clothing, that we were showing the most respect to the people we were greeting. Whether it was leaving the palace or greeting guests. The effort it took to dress meant that we spent that time preparing for you. That you should feel special because we took the time to make sure we looked our best for you."

"So your heavy clothing is for me."

"For the Rhimodians, yes," she said. "To tell you that we care to be here. It is one of those subtle signals Terrans use."

"Your people do tend to manipulate and redirect things."

She raised an eyebrow. "I am not sure if I should be insulted by that."

"In battle, your people's attacks tend to not be very straightforward. They are more twisted and calculated and against expectations."

"It's war. I don't think we would do well if we just charged at you and said 'Move.'"

"Most likely not."

She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. "Look, are we still safe? Can I sleep for a bit? Today has been quite a day."

He nodded. "Of course. I will stand post outside for you."

"As long as you get some rest too. You need your strength as well. I can be quite vexing, or so I've been told." She smiled at him. The fury in those blue eyes was gone. Instead, it was mirth.

"I am sure I can handle whatever you have," he said.

"I don't know. I drive my father crazy."

"I am sure you do not."

"I don't know," she said. "The last time I dealt with him, I ruined a treaty he was working on."

He raised his eyebrow.

She waved her hand. "He wanted me to marry the leader of the opposition to bind the two territories. I refused."

"Are you expected to marry for political gain?"

"My father thinks so. I am against it, myself."

"Is there anything you can do?" This intrigued him. Not in a positive way, though. More out of disgust that a leader would use their own child to solidify a deal in such a way.

"I have options. The most obvious is to marry someone of my own choosing before he can marry me off."

"Is that a practice of the Terran Empire? Marriage?"

"It is the Terran mating. Unlike what other humanoids do, it's not any kind of passionate, instant love, like so many humanoids seem to have. It's more planned out. You meet, date, get to know one another, and that friendship builds into, well, something stronger, and then it becomes love. And marriage usually comes after that."

"How long does that take?"

"It can take years."

He blinked. "Tedious."

She smiled again. "It can be." She twisted around on the bed and brought her legs up. "Really, though, Jedriek, I do need to sleep. I am so tired."

"I am sure you are. Get some rest, Princess Eleanor, and I will keep you safe."

She paused and stared at him for a moment.

She didn't say more, but she did look amused.

Or something.