Page 11 of Taunting Krell


  “No table?”

  “Do you see one? There’s no point in sitting to enjoy a meal. I don’t cook and packaged food isn’t a joy to eat. It’s a physical requirement.”

  “I cook.” She glanced around his so-called kitchen. “Where is your stove?”

  “I didn’t have one installed. It would have been wasted here.”

  “Too bad. I could have made you a wonderful dinner and maybe taught you the joys of eating. It’s spectacular if you’re dealing with tasty stuff.”

  He started to hand her a fork but paused, glancing at her and then it, and back. Wariness narrowed his eyes.

  “For real? Seriously?” She held out her hand, palm up. “What do you think? I’m going to try to prong you to death? I don’t know who that would be more embarrassing for—you dying by fork or me needing to use something so silly to take you out. I just want to eat, Krell. I could use my fingers if you insist on being paranoid.”

  “Don’t try anything.” He handed it over.

  Cyan grinned and shook her head. “I’d try to give you a heart attack if I wanted you dead. That would be more fun. Death by sex sounds less humiliating.” She stuck her fork into the paste-like substance. It didn’t smell bad but it looked horrible. She detected an artificial meat scent, probably want-to-be beef, and yellison, a space alternative to Earth’s tofu. It was cheap, it lasted forever, and stuck together for low- to no-gravity eating. “This stuff is going to be nasty, isn’t it?”

  “You adjust.”

  “I saw the outside. Don’t you grow veggies and stuff? Livestock? Doesn’t the planet hold any life forms that are tasty? It reminds me of Earth.”

  “We don’t eat the planet’s inhabitants. We consider that rude. We do grow vegetables. That’s what we make the yellison with. It’s not from Earth.”

  She laughed, glancing at him as she stuck a warm bite of the food in her mouth. She chewed, made a face and swallowed. “Bland. Do you at least have salt? Some seasoning? They fed me good food at Medical.”

  “No.”

  “Figures. You know this stuff is made of unpopular veggies, right? They blend them all up until it’s a tasteless mass of crap and just add whatever flavor they think will sell. You’d think you’d one-up Earth and at least be original.”

  “Food production is not my job nor is the choice of what they do with the vegetation we grow. I could allow you to send a complaint to them if you wish or to make suggestions. They welcome them.”

  “That’s at least new. Companies on Earth don’t care. It’s cheap enough in bulk for people to buy it regardless of what it tastes like.” She forced another bite into her mouth. The stuff would sustain her body but it sure wouldn’t be something she’d eat by choice. “You need better food if I stay here. Don’t make me beg. It’s not pretty.”

  “I could arrange delivery of food.”

  “I don’t want to put you out if it’s costly.”

  “We don’t use a monetary system the way Earth does.”

  That got her attention. “What do you use?”

  “We don’t. We don’t ask for more than we need and we all contribute to our society.”

  “I like that.” She smiled at him. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard so far about what you’ve done with your lives.”

  “I heard you didn’t agree with breeding pacts.”

  “It’s barbaric!” She ate more, swallowed, and decided she wasn’t nearly as hungry as she’d thought. She turned away from the food to watch him instead. “I’m not a baby machine to churn out little cyborgs and the whole ‘being assigned to strangers’ is creepy and just wrong.”

  “Cyborg women choose their males when they join a family unit. You’re unique. The council felt the need to assign you into one.”

  “Thanks but no thanks. I pick who I go to bed with and nobody else. They better not assign me to anyone or the cyborgs who get me are going to be eunuchs if they try to touch me.”

  His mouth tightened into a grim line. “It’s a good thing they sent you to me. I would never force you.”

  Worry ate at her and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Is that what they are planning to do once I settle into this planet? Send men to come get me and drag me somewhere to form some kind of messed-up family unit?”

  “Not currently. You’re safe from other males.”

  “But it could happen?”

  “They assigned you into my custody. I wouldn’t force you to accept males into your bed. I’m in charge of you.”

  She grinned. “Lucky you. What is on today’s agenda? Are we going to stare at each other all day or do you plan to give me a tour of the planet? I admit I’m curious. I’d love to see more of it.”

  “We’re staying here. I thought we could talk and get to—”

  A loud beep sounded and Krell jerked his head toward the living area. He moved swiftly out of the room. Cyan followed him to the front door. He pressed his palm on the scanner and the door slid open. A grimfaced cyborg she’d never seen before stood there in a black uniform. She tensed, hoping he wasn’t there to try to talk her in to checking out his sex skills.

  “What is it?” The annoyance sounded strongly in Krell’s snarled tone.

  “You weren’t hooked into your monitoring system. There’s been an urgent development.” The cyborg craned his neck to stare at Cyan for long seconds before he met Krell’s gaze. “Open a link. The entire council has been trying to reach you. They need an immediate assessment.”

  “Thank you.” The door closed, sealing the guy out, and Krell closed his eyes. He kept hold of the wall pad.

  Cyan watched him, assumed he was linking to other cyborgs and wondered what kind of urgent development had occurred. She inched to the side to get a better look at Krell’s face and felt alarm when she saw him pale, anger tensed his features next, and a soft growl rumbled from his throat. His jaw clenched.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, not sure if linking meant someone else could hear her or if it was just inside his mind.

  “Quiet,” he ordered gruffly.

  She leaned against the wall, trying to remember exactly what he did for a living. He’d said he analyzed data and something about threat assessments. She hugged her chest harder, praying she wasn’t the topic. Had they decided it was too risky to allow her to live? Krell was convinced she was some kind of spy. Maybe they would believe she was too much of a danger to them. Fear inched up her spine. She’d hate to be killed by the people she’d once died to save. That would totally bite ass.

  Time passed, Krell stood there with his eyes closed. He finally snapped them open. His hand left the wall scanner and he spun, nearly walked into her where she leaned against the wall, and shot her a frown.

  “I’ve assigned two cyborg females to collect you. They will protect you from other males and keep an eye on you while I’m gone.” He moved fast, striding away.

  Leave? She darted after him, having to jog to catch up to his longer stride. “Where are you going? What is wrong? Is it about me?” She grabbed at his arm, forcing him to spin around and come to a halt. She nearly slammed into him. “Where are you going? What is going on?”

  “I don’t have time for this. I need to pack a bag. You will be safe. I assigned two females to guard you at a safe location.”

  Her hold tightened. “Is it about me?”

  He blew out a deep breath. “One of our ships has been attacked by the Markus Models.”

  He jerked his arm out of her hold and spun away, rushing for his room. Cyan stood there shocked before rushing after him again. She practically ran into his bedroom and jerked to a stop to avoid slamming into him as he bent to pull a bag out of a lower drawer.

  “Are there casualties? Are they still under attack? Did those bastards board it? What classification of ship do your people have?”

  “They took damage and there are injuries but no deaths.” He threw clothes in the bag, not glancing at her. “They managed to escape but they are being pursued. We’re se
nding another ship to intercept. I need to be on it. I’ve been assigned to lead the mission since I’ve analyzed all the data and know best what we’ll be up against.”

  “What classification of ship was attacked? What are you sending to help them?”

  He ignored her. Anger gripped Cyan and she lunged at him, grabbed his arm and forced him to stop packing.

  “Listen to me, Krell. I know the Markus Models. They can remote hack systems. I traveled to intercept them on an outdated dinosaur of a shuttle because its main computer was only voice activated from the cockpit with my voice imprinted along with my speech patterns. They can mimic voices but they suck at imitating how people talk.”

  He glared at her hand gripping his forearm. “We’re aware of their hacking skills. The cyborg commander saw the ship coming and took control of the system first to prevent other breaches.”

  “It’s not just the main computer they need to worry about. Do you know how the Markuses escaped? They targeted the nonessential systems.” She refused to allow him to pull away from her. “They bypassed the mainframe computer and focused on silly shit that nobody grew alarmed over until they caused the system to crash. They were playing with lights and food systems, the air flow regulators, and if you get more than four of the Markuses together they work as one, able to assault hundreds of non-secure functions as though they are a computer cell. It adds up. They overloaded that master computer until they caused a massive power surge. They walked out of the manufacturing plant because everything electrical crashed. You need to warn your people to watch for that and manually override everything they can. Everything.”

  Krell stared deeply into her eyes. “Why are you telling me this? Why should I believe you?”

  “I hate the Markus Models. They aren’t cyborgs. They are cold, dead machines with cloned skin. I asked to interact with a few before I took the assignment to go after them. I wanted to judge if they were really sentient or not. They are soulless but self-aware. They think anything living is a threat to their existence and needs to be exterminated. They killed every person on Belta Station. There were kids onboard. They murdered them and they were no threat. Belta Station wasn’t military and no one would have gone after them. The stationers were peaceful, just civilians in space like sitting ducks, and the Markuses knew it. They stole top-of-the-line Barcarintellus shuttles off the tarmacs the day they escaped. That’s the company who made them. They just lifted off the surface and into space. They took four shuttles in total. We have no idea how many Markus Models are missing because they just didn’t shut down the mainframe computer. They fried it.”

  He studied her but said nothing.

  “Are you listening to me? The only reason all of them didn’t escape was due to the fact that Barcarintellus had already incurred some employee deaths at the plant and had began to shut down most of the Markus units but they were testing an unknown number of them trying to figure out what went wrong in hopes of recovering them. The company dumped a lot of money and time into them. The data wasn’t recoverable from a fried computer and we couldn’t exactly ask any of the employees how many units weren’t taken off line since everyone was dead. The Markuses didn’t just escape. They took the time to kill every living being inside that plant. Thankfully when the company shut down the Markus Models, they’d sent them to a storage facility or the escaping units probably would have stolen them to reactivate later when they had more time. It’s their mission now to get hold of all Markus Models. They demanded the entire line be operational and released to them. Earth refused and I think that’s why they began attacking helpless stations and spacecrafts for retribution.”

  “What was the capacity of each shuttle?”

  She relaxed. He was listening to her. “It doesn’t matter. I know where you’re going with this but it’s impossible to even guess. One Markus could control and operate an entire shuttle alone. They also don’t need oxygen to survive so they could, in theory, pack a shuttle over safety regulations for life support. The only thing they couldn’t ignore would be weight maximums for lift-off ratio but again, they could have stuffed fifty of those damn things inside each shuttle even though they were designed to carry far fewer numbers. We don’t know. Those idiots were more worried about espionage than keeping an offsite backup of their information. They couldn’t or wouldn’t even tell us what ships were stolen to give us an idea of what to look for.”

  “You stated that you viewed the Markus Models before taking your assignment. How is that possible if all the activated ones escaped?”

  “The company brought a few back to the planet from storage after the escape and activated them to study. The only definite number I have is from the information I obtained from one Markus I found still barely functioning when I reached Belta Station. He was heavily damaged but he said he was in a group of eight. That means seven of them that I know of are still out there but the station distress signal only indicated one shuttle attacked. Three more ships are out there.”

  “When did they escape?”

  “Does it matter?” Her hand on his arm eased but she didn’t release him. His warm skin comforted her. The defense Models were scary. Markus Models had left her chilled to the bone when she’d spoken to them. Her thumb brushed his wrist.

  “We had dealings with four Models in the past.”

  Shock gripped her. “What kind of dealings?”

  “They approached us looking for allies against Earth.”

  “I wouldn’t trust them. You’re breathing and that makes you irrelevant to them.”

  “They wanted to use us as bargaining tools with Earth to free more of their Models.”

  “Not surprising.” She paused. “How did that turn out?”

  “Was the Nugget one of the stolen shuttles the day of their escape?”

  “No.” She frowned. “I’m familiar with that one though. One of the owners of Barcarintellus made a big to-do about his luxury shuttle. It was all over the news about how high tech and fancy it was but it was stolen months before those units escaped.” She bit her lip, thinking. “Let me guess. They had it?”

  “They did.”

  “Son of a bitch. There’s five shuttles out there? There was a prior escape of some Markuses? Damn General Vargus. He sent me out here without giving me all the details.”

  “The Nugget was destroyed along with the Markus Models we encountered.” Krell eased his hand away. “I need to go but I want you to tell everything you know about the Markus Models to the two females I’ve assigned to guard you. They will relay all the information you give us.”

  She grabbed him when he tried to turn away. “Take me with you.”

  “No.”

  “Then stay here because they are really dangerous. You said you analyze shit. You’re safer doing that here with me telling you everything I know about them.” She didn’t want him anywhere near those freakish metal heads. They were ice-cold killers and she had a feeling the cyborgs underestimated the danger of them, though she was impressed they’d managed to kill four with blind luck. The defective defense models were tough to take out. “I’ll help you.”

  He jerked out of her hold again and closed his bag, hauling it up to hook over his shoulder. “Mavo is on the ship that was attacked and is being pursued. They suffered damage and its unknown how long they can fight off the other shuttle. He’s my friend and I’m going after him.”

  Cyan felt sucker punched. Mavo. His image flashed in her mind, the sweet cyborg who had been her friend and who had wanted to carry her away with him when they’d escaped. He’d been her first real crush though he’d never thought of her romantically. She jumped in Krell’s way when he tried to get around her.

  “Take me with you or I’ll clam up so tight I won’t talk at all. You need me, Krell. I’m the expert on those things. I know more about them than you do and I know how to kill them.”

  “We did it before and we will do it again. We have their shutdown codes if they escaped from the manufacturing plant.”
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  “You mean the ones they overrode and no longer work?” She had to back up since he advanced. “Authorization mercy four-two-four-one isn’t going to do a damn thing but waste your breath saying it. It will be the last words you ever utter before you’re dead.”

  That halted him as he studied her. “We knew that code. What do you mean it won’t work?”

  “They fried their receptors for taking verbal command codes. Otherwise the employees would have shut them down when all hell broke loose. One employee locked himself inside his office and wrote a note that the command codes weren’t working before they killed him. Unfortunately he didn’t think to write down how many of them were in the plant. I know how to slow them down and I know how to kill them. Take me with you if you’re leaving. You need me.”

  He shrugged the bag off his shoulder and it dropped loudly to the floor. Cyan gasped when he suddenly grabbed her. Her feet were jerked off the floor and her back slammed into the wall next to his bedroom door. It knocked the breath from her lungs. Krell glared at her nearly nose to nose since he’d lifted her to match his height.

  “You will share information with the female cyborgs when they take over watching you.”

  Her heart raced. “I know you don’t trust me but I hate the Markus Models with a passion. They murdered kids on that station, Krell. I really want to go if Mavo is in danger. He was my friend. I also have grown fond of your grumpy ass and don’t want to be told you died before those things show up here. They want cyborgs. This is a planet of them, right? That means they want to find out where it is. Earth doesn’t give a damn about humans living on stations if they continue to attack and kill them but dangling cyborgs in their faces is going to get those crazy metal heads what they want. Earth is terrified of you guys and they’d trade an android for a cyborg in a heartbeat just to alleviate the threat. I’m assuming the Markus Models don’t know where this planet is or they’d have attacked it instead of a ship, unless that ship is sitting in orbit. I’m thinking not, since you have to pack to leave. This entire planet is in danger if your men are captured. Am I right?”