Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other Titles

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

Cyborgs on Mars

Honey Phillips

Copyright © 2020 by Honey Phillips

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author.

Disclaimer

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design by Pro Book Covers Studio

Edited by Lindsay York at LY Publishing

Chapter One

“You’re not serious?” Harriet stared at her landlord in dismay. “The new rate is ten times higher than the current rent.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the going rate these days.”

Unfortunately, she believed him. Like most residences on Earth, the apartment was small, but it had two tiny bedrooms and an actual window with a sliver of a view of the dirty grey waters of Miami Bay. Both of those were amazing luxuries in these times, but she was supposed to be protected from this type of increase.

“I don’t understand. My mother signed the lease under the old rent control protocols and I’ve lived with her my whole life. I should inherit the same rent.”

For the first time, Mr. Gonzalez looked uncomfortable. A short man with an oversized stomach, he chewed on the toothpick he always had wedged into his mouth and avoided her gaze.

“We ran the standard check when she passed. You’re not her biological daughter.”

“I know that,” she said as evenly as possible. “But she adopted me as a baby. I am legally her daughter.”

He shrugged, still looking off into the distance. “I don’t make the laws. New rent is due at the first of next month.”

Panic started to rise but she forced it back down. Between the endless rounds of doctor’s visits and the constant struggle to make ends meet, she had a lot of experience with hiding her fears. The rent had been barely manageable with her salary and her mother’s small disability income, but she had assumed that without the expense of nursing care, she would be able to afford the apartment on her own and might even be able to get ahead a little. But even working twenty-four hours a day, she wouldn’t be able to pay for the new rent.

“The lease allows for two occupants,” he added after a minute. “Maybe you could get a roommate? You got a friend with money?”

A friend with money? She almost laughed out loud. Since her mother’s illness had been diagnosed when Harriet was in her early teens, all of her free time had been devoted to her care. Even her workmates were no more than acquaintances and they certainly didn’t have this kind of money.

“Is there any alternative? Maybe a smaller apartment in this building?” As much as she hated to give up the only home she’d ever known, she didn’t really need a second bedroom, or any bedroom for that matter.

Mr. Gonzalez finally looked back at her and there was a hint of sympathy in his eyes as he shook his head. “Nothing you could afford. One of the ring developments might be your best shot.”

The ring developments were the latest housing projects to be added to the consolidated Miami-Tampa metro area. Moving there would mean a commute of over an hour and a half each way, and that was assuming she could even find a place.

Tears threatened but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and forced a smile.

“Thank you for the suggestion. I’m sure I can find something.”

He chewed on his toothpick, then nodded. “I have someone coming to look at the place tomorrow.”

Still refusing to give in to emotion, she said quietly, “I’ll make sure everything is tidy.”

Not that there was much to clean—everything except the necessities had been sold long ago. But both she and her mother had always kept the place neat and even in the final days of her mother’s sickness, Harriet hadn’t let it go.

Mr. Gonzalez departed without another word and she wandered over to the small window. The usual thick brown smog obscured much of the surrounding buildings, but she could still catch a glimpse of the ocean. Even though the sea was dark and polluted, she had always found something soothing about the expanse of water stretching out into the distance—a promise that there was more to life than the narrow confines of her home and job.

Unable to help herself, she went to the door of her mother’s room. The medical equipment had been returned to Hospice, leaving only a narrow single bed. Even though she had known this moment was coming for so long, she still missed her with an almost physical ache.

“What am I going to do now, Mom?” she whispered.

Only silence answered but she took a deep breath and lifted her chin. I’ll find something, she told herself.

Two weeks later, she couldn’t fool herself any longer. She had read about the horrors of the housing situation but in the safety of her own little home, she hadn’t paid much attention. Now, it was all too obvious.

She stared at the message on her phone. Another apartment no longer available—if it could even have been called an apartment. She had been too appalled by the dirty, windowless single room barely large enough for a bed and a shared bathroom to sign a lease when she first viewed it. After a fruitless search for an alternative, she had convinced herself that it would be acceptable only to find that it was too late. Three days remained until the end of the month; what was she going to do? The prospect of having to stay in one of the vast homeless shelters haunted her. Although Earth Government tried to control them, the crime rates kept rising and for a single woman… She shuddered.

“Is something wrong, Harriet?”

Her boss, Winthrop Lewis, stood over her desk with a worried look on his face. Of course, he usually had a worried look on his face. As Managing Director of Product Development for GenCon, he had direct responsibility for producing profitable new products, but despite the pressures of his job he was always kind and soft-spoken. A tall, thin man with stooped shoulders, he was one of the few people she didn’t tower over, another fact that endeared him to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said hastily. “I didn’t mean to bring my problems to work.”

“Not at all. You’ve always been a model employee.” He hesitated. “I was sorry to hear about your mother.”

Her lips trembled but she forced a smile. “Thank you. Even though we knew it was coming, it’s been… difficult.”

“Do you need to take some more time off?”

“No!” she cried, then forced her voice to a lower pitch. “I mean, no, please. I really need the money.”

He frowned and studied her face. “Harriet, what’s wrong?”

“I’m going to lose my apartment.” The words burst out before she could stop them, the relief of having someone to tell too much to resist.

“I don’t understand. Aren’t you in one of those rent-controlled apartments?”

“I was,” she said, aware of the bitterness in her voice. “But now that my mother is dead, the rent is increasing to ten times more than I can afford.”

“But the rent control applies to heirs as well.”

“Biological heirs. I’m adopted.”

“Oh, I see. I remember when they added the biological requirement, they said it was to keep people from cheating the landlords by claiming to be an heir. Not that that’s your situation,” he added hastily. “I could probably manage a small increase in your salary if it would help…”

“Thank you, Mr. Lewis. That’s very kind of you, but it’s not just the money. It’s the fact that there just aren’t enough places.”

“I’ve read the reports.” He shook his head. “It’s one of the reasons I have such high hopes for this Mars project. Opening it up to settlement has got to help.”

Mars. Like everyone else, she had followed the stories—stories of how they had managed to deploy a magnetic space shield that blocked enough of the solar winds and radiation to make terraforming possible, stories of mechanical cyborgs preparing the way for man, stories illustrated with pictures of gleaming white buildings set against the vast Martian landscape. GenCon was investing heavily in the project and was, in fact, sponsoring the first Martian city, New Arcadia.

“I can’t even begin to imagine all that empty space. It must be wonderful.” Although she knew that the vast factory farms filled the empty land between the mega cities, the closest thing she could imagine was her expanse of ocean.

“Yes, indeed.” He hesitated, then took a quick look around the administrative area. Two of her fellow assistants were out to lunch and the third was engrossed in a telenovel. “Come into my office for a minute, Harriet.”

“Yes, Mr. Lewis.” Frowning a little, she picked up her tablet and followed him. He rarely gave personal instructions to any of the assistants, preferring to communicate via email.

Perched in an upper corner of the building, his office had a whole wall of windows with an expansive view of the dark grey waters of the ocean. She gave it a wistful glance before turning her attention to him.

“Have a seat,” he urged, but instead of taking his own seat behind his desk, he paced nervously back and forth.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Lewis?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that the company wants me to go to Mars. As a settler. To see for myself what it’s like and to conduct some business on their behalf.”

“You? To Mars?” She couldn’t conceal her shock and he smiled ruefully.

“I know I don’t exactly look like pioneer stock—that’s one of the problems. Although the company has a lot of influence, they want me to appear as though I fit in. It occurred to me that a wife might be just the thing.”

“A wife? Are you engaged?” she asked, then blushed at the realization that she had asked her boss such a personal question. It was just that over the ten years she had worked for him, she had never seen any signs that he had a female in his life.

“Um, no.” His pale cheeks flushed and he pulled out a silk handkerchief to wipe a suddenly damp forehead. “But I was thinking… You don’t have anything holding you here… And I find you an admirable woman… So perhaps we could help each other out?”

“Help each other out?”

“Yes. You could—that is, if you’re willing—you could marry me and accompany me to Mars?”

The expression on his face reminded her of a picture from one of her childhood books—a dog staring at his master with that same look of eagerness and doubt.

“But, why me?”

The Lewis family was incredibly wealthy, and he must know hundreds of women who would be only too willing to marry him.

“Women of my, uh, class,” he flushed again, “aren’t interested in giving up their lifestyle and leaving Earth. It had never occurred to me to look elsewhere, but the more I think about it, the more I think it’s a good idea. You’re a sensible woman and a hard worker. It would be a chance for a new future.”

A new future, but with him. She studied him again—the thin body and the already receding hairline, but also the kindness in his eyes. Despite his family’s wealth, he also worked hard, and he was always polite and respectful to everyone. Perhaps he wasn’t the man of her dreams, but she was past thirty and had spent most of her adult life caring for an ailing mother. She didn’t expect a hero to come riding in on a white horse.

“When could we get married?” she asked slowly.

“When does your lease run out?”

“Thursday.”

“Then we could do it tomorrow. That would still leave a day to arrange for your belongings to be transferred to my home. Of course, I wouldn’t expect to, um, consummate the marriage until after a reasonable time had passed. That is, if you’re willing to marry me?”

The shy, hopeful look decided her. “Yes, I’m willing.”

They were married the next day.

Six months later, they landed on Mars.

Chapter Two

Four months later

“You’re not serious?” Harriet stared at the GenCon representative in dismay as a horrible feeling of déjà vu swept over her. Once again, she was about to lose her home.

“I’m afraid so.” Unlike her former landlord, Quilby showed absolutely no sympathy. There was even a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He was a big man, muscle beginning to turn to fat, and he could have been attractive if not for the constant sneer on his face. “The claim is registered to two people and now that Winthrop is dead…” He shrugged.

“This is my claim, just as much as it was his,” she said fiercely.

“It’s registered to you and your husband. That means there have to be two people living here in order to meet the homestead requirements. The claims inspector will be here at the end of the week. I suggest you start packing.”

“What am I going to do?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“I hear you’re friends with Madam Cherry. Maybe she’ll give you a job.” He gave her a long, slow leer, licking his lips with a thick red tongue. “You’re kind of bony and old but I reckon those miners won’t mind. Hell, I might even take you for a spin myself.”

“Get out,” she said through gritted teeth.

“No need to be getting uppity about it.”

“Get out,” she repeated, her hand going to the butt of her gun. She’d started wearing it the day Winthrop died.

Quilby tried to shrug but he kept a watchful gaze on her hand as he donned his breathing mask and sleek, expensive thermal coat. The terraforming project had succeeded in eliminating the need for pressure suits, but the air was still cold and low in oxygen.

“We’ll see how high and mighty you are in a month.” With that parting shot, he let himself out through the airlock, leaving Harriet to sink down on a bench and wonder how she had ended up back in exactly the same position she’d been in after her mother’s death.

But she hadn’t made it through the past ten months by feeling sorry for herself. She gathered her thoughts and started putting together a plan. First of all, she needed to check the actual terms of the homestead contract. Winthrop had taken care of most of the arrangements, but she did remember that the claim was filed primarily in her name. He had insisted on an actual paper copy of the contract as well, although at the time she had wondered why.

Digging through their small collection of paperwork, she pulled out the file.

Plots 0001-1A and 0001-1B granted to Harriet Lewis and partner.

Partner? She hadn’t remembered that wording. Winthrop had told her that putting the claim in her name was to protect her in case his family decided to contest the will he made leaving everything to her. It had been almost a month since he died, and she had yet to hear from his family. Not, of course, that they had ever had much use for her. They had made that abundantly clear during the short period of their married life that had been spent on Earth. A tall, skinny “commoner” was not their idea of the ideal mate for a Lewis.

He had simply shrugged off their disapproval and done his best to make sure that she was not made uncomfortable in any way. She smiled reminiscently. He had been a good man and a decent husband. She only wished she’d had the time to develop warmer feelings for him than the polite friendship they had shared. But then again, he had always kept her at a distance. Even on the transport ship, after he had revealed his heart defect to her, he had rejected her sympathy.

“I’m so sorry.” Despite her concern for him, part of her had still shuddered at the possibility of watching another long, slow decline.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he assured her.

“How did you manage to get approved for the Mars mission?”

He had given her his small smile. “Everything is possible if you have enough credits. And in this case, the company wants me on Mars.”

“Why are they so anxious for you to go? Don’t they realize how dangerous it will be?”

“Perhaps not. My doctor even speculated that the weaker gravity might be good for me. It will ease the strain.”

She had noticed that he didn’t respond to her question about why GenCon wanted him on Mars, but she had let it drop. He might not have been willing to accept her sympathy, but he was forced to accept her help as they maneuvered through the intricacies of claiming their plots and setting up their homestead. Credits did indeed ease the way, but Mars was short of so many things that even an open pocketbook wasn’t enough to take care of everything. She had worked hard for this claim and, by God, she was going to keep it.

As she read through the homestead contract, a spark of hope appeared. The “partner” mentioned in the paperwork was unnamed. Theoretically, it would be possible to have someone else step into place as her partner, although it would extend the time required for her to take ownership for at least another six months. She’d waited this long; she was willing to wait even longer if that was what it took to finally own a place where she could never be forced to leave.

The next order of business would be to find that partner. Even with the wages they had been willing to pay, it had been hard to find men to work the claim with them. The small population of Mars consisted primarily of settlers, miners, and power plant workers, along with scientists and government employees. The other settlers were intent on their own claims while the miners all hoped to find a treasure trove of minerals. Which left the power plant workers, and the only ones available for hire had already been fired for their drunkenness or their unwillingness to work. They had been through three hands in as many months. Still, putting up with a drunken layabout was better than losing her land. Adding a rifle to her armament, she went to prepare the rover for a trip to town.

“What do you mean I don’t have any credits?” Harriet stared at the banker in disbelief.

“Um, it’s not that you don’t have them. The account is still intact. However, your husband’s family has frozen all of his assets.”

“They decided to contest the will after all?”

“Yes.” Mr. Alliston gave her a sympathetic look. “Unfortunately, my hands are tied. I received the communication this morning.”

What a coincidence. First Quilby, then this. Weariness swept over her, but she forced it back. She was not going to be defeated by a bunch of snobby bastards who weren’t even on the planet.

“The terms of the will were quite clear,” she said as evenly as possible. “You know that, you saw it.”

“I agree, but…” He shrugged helplessly. “I can’t overrule a court order.”

That meant she needed a lawyer. She shuddered. New Arcadia had a grand total of one lawyer and Mr. Hanover preferred drinking to legal work. He wasn’t much of a choice, but he was all she had.

An hour later, she fumed as she left Hanover’s office. He had agreed to represent her—for an exorbitant percentage of any recovered funds—but he didn’t think he would be able to get the hold order lifted any time soon. Basically, she was still in the same situation. She needed a partner living on the claim as soon as possible, and if she couldn’t pay for one… What was that her mother used to say? There was more than one way to skin a cat.

Leaning against the wall of Hanover’s office, she studied the town. New Arcadia had been built inside one of the Martian canyons so that the domes enclosing the town only needed to span the distance between the sides of the canyon, with airlocks at either end. The buildings sprawled between the central main street and the rock walls. At one end of the wide street, the neatly stacked white blocks of the GenCon headquarters bore the only resemblance to the idealistic images of Mars so frequently presented on Earth. The other buildings were a hodgepodge of metal sheets recovered from abandoned rockets, blocks made from compacted regolith—Martian soil—and iron frameworks covered by inflated panels. With the exception of Madam Cherry’s gaudily painted building, everything was covered with the pervasive orange dust. The small collection of businesses was as varied as their materials but since the town had originally been founded to support workers and miners, bars predominated.

Raising her chin, she stomped down the dusty street to the first bar and charged inside before her courage failed her. If the outside had been shabby and disreputable, the inside was even more so. A weird mishmash of salvaged ship parts and the cheap plastic furniture produced by the 3D printers, it looked like something from an old movie. As soon as she walked through the door, the men inside turned to look at her. A quick scan showed no other females in the place.

“I need a partner,” she said boldly, glad that her voice didn’t shake.

No one responded at first, then a skinny man shoved his companion on the shoulder and wandered over. Unshaven and unwashed, he might have been handsome once, but his clothes hung on his thin frame and his blue eyes were bloodshot.

He seemed a little shaken by the fact they were of equal height, but he gave her a cocky smile. “I’m Nick. What kinda partner you looking for, lady?” He ran his eyes over her appraisingly in a way that made her skin crawl. “Kinda old, ain’t you?”

“I’m looking for a partner on my claim,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

“Whatcha paying?”

Several of the other men approached when he asked, and her hand instinctively moved to the butt of her gun.

“I’m not paying anything except the chance to own one half of the land once the homestead period is over.”

Nick sneered, and the others looked bored. They moved back to their original seats and a low thrum of conversation resumed.

“It’s good land,” she said quickly, raising her voice. “We—I already have three greenhouses producing.”

“That might not be too bad,” Nick said thoughtfully. “If the work’s already been done.”

She knew she should agree and take him up on it, but despite her earlier impulse to take anyone, she needed a partner who would stick it out for five years. She needed someone who was prepared to put some effort into the place.

“No. There’s still a lot to be done. More greenhouses will need to be built. The crops have to be monitored and produce collected. We also have to finish covering fifty percent of the land with lichen.” One of the homestead requirements was improving the soil on the claim.

“Are you part of the deal?” He flashed her what she thought was supposed to be a charming grin, but it made her shudder instead. “Been a while since I had a woman.”

“I most certainly am not,” she said, her hand gripping her gun more firmly.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a proposition to me.”

“Then you’re not the right man for the job.”

He laughed harshly. “Maybe not, but I don’t see anyone else willing to take on a lot of hard work for an uncertain future and a skinny woman.”

“I’m willing.” The deep voice cut through the noise of the bar and she turned to see a man—a cyborg—step out of the shadows. The cyborgs had been used to do the initial work of terraforming the planet. As the environment eventually became more suitable for humans, many of them were repurposed into ranger squads that administered what passed for law and order. Of course, she had seen cyborgs in town before, always dressed in black, so obviously not human, but this one in particular had always drawn her attention. He was just so big and broad that she couldn’t help but notice him. At least that’s what she had always told herself. No decent woman would feel an attraction for a machine, would she? Especially not a married woman.

“I am Ranger M-231, at your service.” He lifted a metal hand to tip his hat to her.

“Yeah, well, you can’t do it,” Nick announced. “You ain’t human.”

“Is that a requirement?” the ranger asked, looking directly at her and ignoring the man. Her heart beat a little faster as she met those pale grey eyes, striking against his weathered brown skin. She actually had to tilt her head back to look up at him.

“I don’t think so, but I would have to check with the claims office to find—”

“Dammit, he’s a fucking machine,” Nick interrupted. “What is wrong with you women? I’m a much better bargain than that heap of metal.”

He started to reach for her arm, and she flinched instinctively, but he never touched her. The ranger intercepted his hand, snatching it high and wringing a pained cry from the man.

“You do not touch her. You never touch her. Do you understand me?” M-231 looked around at the rest of the men in the bar, all of whom were silent and staring. “That goes for all of you. She is under my protection. Is that understood?”

There was a smattering of nods and muttered assents. The ranger abruptly released Nick, who clutched his hand and glared at the big cyborg but didn’t say anything.

“Shall we go?” The ranger offered her his arm. Still shocked by the rapid turn of events, she could only stare at him. Something flickered across his face—something that could have been hurt. He started to withdraw his arm, but suddenly, impulsively, she put her hand on his elbow. Even through his shirt, she could feel the firm muscles and the heat of his skin. Her body responded instinctively to all of that masculine strength and for the first time in a very, very long time, she was suddenly conscious of herself as a woman in the presence of an attractive man. Firmly suppressing the thought, she gave him her best polite smile.

“I’m ready.”

Ignoring the gaping bar patrons, together they turned and walked out of the bar.

Chapter Three

M-231 couldn’t believe that he had a woman touching him—and not just any woman, but her. He had been obsessed with her since he had seen her departing the ship with the initial group of settlers. Tall and slender with graceful movements that reminded him of a flag waving in the wind, the weak Martian sunlight had sparked golden lights in a cloud of soft brown hair. Mine. The thought had appeared from nowhere, but he didn’t think to question it. He had started to step forward and then she had turned to assist a human male. Also tall and thin, the male appeared almost fragile, and her obvious solicitousness made their relationship all too clear. He had withdrawn back into the shadows he preferred.

Even knowing she was not for him, he had not been able to resist hacking into the computer to find out more about her. Harriet Lewis. He didn’t think the name suited her and, in his mind, she had become Hattie. Although he had wanted to dislike her husband, he had heard nothing negative about the man. A shy, soft-spoken man, he treated everyone with a quiet dignity despite his obvious upper crust background. M-231 had resigned himself to the fact that there was no hope—yet many a night he found himself riding out to their homestead to check and make sure that all was secure, that Hattie was safe.

When he heard that her husband had died, an apparently weak heart finally giving way, he had wanted to go to her, but he had no reason to expect that she would welcome him. Instead, he had contented himself with watching her from afar, spending many of his nights patrolling her land. He had followed her into town today as well. Last night he had seen tracks—not of the mechanical horses that the rangers used, but of the rovers the humans drove. Most of the humans avoided travel during the freezing nights and the fact that someone had gone out in the bitter cold just to visit her claim made him strangely uncomfortable.

They entered the Claims Office and Hattie removed her hand, leaving a cold emptiness where it had been. Smith, the claims officer, looked up, his eyes widening at the sight of them.

“Mrs. Lewis. Ranger. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to ask you about my claim filing.” Hattie approached the desk with her quiet, graceful step and he had to force himself not to demand that Smith step back.

“Ah, yes. I remember this one.” Smith took the paper, then peered at her over the top of a pair of old-fashioned spectacles. “Most unusual.”

“But it’s legal, isn’t it?” she asked anxiously.

“Definitely. The wording was approved before it arrived. Your husband, poor soul, made quite sure of that.”

“What does it mean by partner?”

Smith looked from Hattie to him. “It means someone who lives on the claim and works the land. You can claim a half portion at the end of the five years. The other portion isn’t available until your partner has also spent five years on the land, but the rights to the land go to you, not him.” He paused thoughtfully. “Or her, I suppose. There is no specification regarding sex.”

He saw the speculative look cross her delicate face and his chest ached. No doubt she was trying to decide if there was a female she could ask in his place.

“And the ranger, is he eligible?” she asked, surprising him.

“Hm.” Smith peered over his glasses again, then went to his computer. After a quick search, he nodded slowly. “It would appear so. Since the land will only be in your name, the fact that he is a, um, cyborg, isn’t a factor. But of course, the other rules apply—occupancy and working the land.”

“Then I guess it’s settled. That is, if you’re sure?” Hattie turned and smiled at him, a little uncertainly perhaps, but with enough warmth that he could feel his body responding. Desperately forcing his unruly cock under control, he managed to retain a neutral expression as he nodded. He had made the offer impulsively, driven by the desperation on her face, but he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more.

“Yes, I’m sure. Does this need to be registered?”

“Of course.” Smith’s long fingers flew over his keys before he frowned and looked up. “Do you have a name, Ranger? A human name?”

“Morgan Gentry.” The words sounded strange on his lips. He had only spoken his name once in the past twenty years and that was to a fellow cyborg.

“Morgan,” Hattie said softly, and the sound of his name on her lips sent a surge of excitement to his cock. “It’s a nice name.”

“Thank you, Hattie.”

“Hattie?” She looked shocked, then laughed. “I haven’t been called that since I was a little girl.”

“It had been a long time since I have heard my name as well.”

“That’s kind of nice. Like we’re both starting over.” Her smile was more certain this time.

“Okay. The records have been updated. I need a… fingerprint?” Smith cast a doubtful glance at his cybernetic hand and frustration filled him when Hattie’s eyes followed the same path.

Gritting his teeth, he held out his left hand, which looked more human. “Here.”

“Of course, of course.” Smith laughed nervously, then passed him a small touch pad.

He dutifully pressed his finger to it, even though any of the cyborgs would be able to replicate the print, and the claims officer nodded.

“That’s it. Everything is in order.” He looked between them again. “I dated this today. You will take up residence immediately?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, covering Hattie’s slight hesitation. He would need to make arrangements about his ranger duties, but he didn’t want to leave her alone any longer.

“I wish you both the best of luck.” Smith started to extend his hand to Hattie and M-231 found a low rumble coming from his throat.

“Did you just… growl?” Hattie asked, her eyes wide.

“A slight malfunction,” he said quickly, then, greatly daring, took her arm to escort her out of the Claims Office before the agent made another attempt to touch her.

“Are you really going to move in today?” She peeped up at him from under her lashes.

“Yes. It is best to start right away. That is, unless you object?”

“No,” she said slowly. “It’s been awfully quiet around the place. I think it might be nice to have some company.” Her cheeks turned pink. “But I, um, don’t have a second bedroom. You’ll have to sleep on the couch and it’s not very big. Maybe I should give you the bedroom…”

Fighting down the inevitable reaction to the word bedroom coming from her sweet lips, he shook his head firmly. “I do not need much sleep and I can rest in any position.”

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “You don’t have a bed?”

“I do now,” he said briefly. He wasn’t about to tell her of the many long, lonely nights he had spent with nothing but a rock against his back. Even that had been better than his initial trip to Mars, crammed into a small stall that bore an unmistakable resemblance to a coffin—because cyborgs didn’t need to move or breathe or to be treated as human. The reminder made his face harden.

“I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I will escort you to retrieve your rover and then I will get my horse and meet you at the South Airlock.”

“How did you—oh, of course. How else could I get here?”

Her startled look faded and he breathed an internal sigh of relief. She didn’t need to know that he had been stalking her.

“Okay, Morgan. Let’s go home.”

Morgan escorted Harriet to her rover, then left, assuring her he would be back shortly. She stared after him, still stunned by the events of the morning. The knowledge that she might lose her claim, the seizing of the bank accounts, and then this—the cyborg ranger she had thought about one too many times stepping up to help her. Her eyes followed him, noting the broad width of his shoulders in the faded black shirt and the long, confident stride. And he was going to be living with her all the time? A mixture of excitement and trepidation sent a shiver down her spine.

“Everything all right, girlie?” Cyrus, the man in charge of the supply depot where she had left the rover, asked. A stocky, grizzled man with a brusque air that hid an unexpected layer of kindness, she had always found him pleasant to deal with.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “Yes, I think perhaps it is.”

“Sorry to hear about your husband.”

“Thank you.” Unexpected tears filled her eyes. She might not have loved Winthrop in a romantic sense, but he had become a good friend and companion over the past months, and she missed him. Was everyone she cared about going to be taken from her?

“Don’t like thinking of you alone out there.”

“I’m not going to be. Since it’s a double claim, it needs to have two occupants. One of the rangers volunteered.”

A bushy eyebrow rose. “You don’t say?”

She tensed, waiting for the same type of vitriol the man in the bar had spewed. She knew the cyborgs were regarded with distrust and suspicion by many, but all Cyrus did was scratch his head thoughtfully.

“Might be a good thing at that. Ain’t no one gonna mess with you with him around.”

“Mess with me?”

His mouth opened, then closed abruptly. After a noticeable pause, he muttered, “Not many women up here.”

Although she suspected that he had originally intended to say something different, she shrugged.

“I was already informed that I was too old and bony to be of interest,” she said lightly, even though the words still stung.

He frowned. “Who the hell would say that? You’re a damned attractive woman.”

She blushed, surprisingly touched by the gruff words. “Thank you, Cyrus.”

He shrugged, his weather worn cheeks darkening also. “I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Still a good thing that the ranger will be out there with you. Which one is it?”

“Morgan. I mean, M-231,” she added quickly.

Cyrus barked a quick laugh. “Good choice. That one won’t put up with any nonsense.”

As if in response to his words, Morgan appeared in the large door opening. He looked from Harriet to Cyrus, then crossed the space between them with unexpected speed.

“Is there a problem?” he growled, stepping in front of Harriet.

“No, not at all.” She frowned up at him, a little intimidated—and a little turned on—by his fierce protective stance. “Cyrus was just saying that you would look after me—”

“I will.”

“—although I am quite capable of looking after myself.”

The two men exchanged a quick look but neither one responded. At least they had the sense not to openly disagree with her. She shook her head but didn’t bother to pursue it.

“Shall we go?” she asked.

“Yes. My horse is waiting.” He gave a low click and his horse appeared in the open doors.

Not an actual horse, of course, but one of the mechanical constructs of the legendary Earth animals that the rangers used for transportation. Since the cyborgs didn’t require supplemental oxygen like the human settlers, they had no need for the enclosed cabins of the rovers. The horses were flexible enough to traverse most types of Martian terrain and much faster than the bulky vehicles. Many of the horses were composed of metal in a rusted hue but Morgan’s horse was made of a pale silvery material, glowing almost white in the artificial lights of the depot. This was the first time she had seen it up close and her breath caught as it approached, the mechanical stride oddly graceful.

“He’s beautiful.”

“He?” Morgan turned to look at her, a strange expression on his face. “It is a machine.”

She shrugged, studying the metallic frame. “He looks like a stallion to me. Does he have a name?”

“BH-495.”

“That’s not a name.” Did he wince? She hurried on. “I think we should call him Ghost.”

Running a hand down the rows of flexible tubes that made up Ghost’s mane, she smiled when the animal seemed to press against her hand, then turned to find both Cyrus and Morgan staring at her with almost identical expressions of amazement. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she ignored it and gave a determined smile.

“Shall we go?” she repeated.

Morgan inclined his head, then opened the door to her rover. As she prepared to climb up into the big six-wheeled vehicle, her foot caught. Two large hands spanned her waist—one warm and human, one cool and mechanical—and he lifted her into the cabin with effortless strength. He released her immediately, but the feeling of his hands seemed to linger on her skin despite the layers of cloth that had separated them. She stared at him and the grey eyes that met hers no longer seemed cool and distant. The air between them thickened, then Cyrus coughed, and Morgan abruptly stepped back.

Without another word, he pulled on a worn black duster then mounted Ghost in one smooth, powerful movement. The horse started for the entrance, but it wasn’t until he paused and looked back that she managed to get her wits together and start her engine. As she turned to close the rover door, she found Cyrus looking at her as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Goodbye, Cyrus.”

“Goodbye, girlie.” He looked from her to the silent figure waiting by the door and suddenly laughed. “Definitely think you made a good choice. Just watch your back, both of you.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he turned and disappeared back into the depths of the depot. After a puzzled frown in his direction, she shrugged and went to follow her ranger.

Chapter Four

M-231 led the way through the airlock and out on to the barren plain surrounding New Arcadia. Even though the settlers had begun to establish their claims, they had made little difference as yet to the surface of the planet. The occasional small shelters and the increasing amount of lichen and other primitive plant life had done little to change the overall impression of rocky, red desert. But he had been one of the first on the planet and he could spot the subtle differences. His system no longer had to fight so hard to compensate for a lack of oxygen or sub-zero temperatures. Those first years had been hard, and he’d forced himself not to feel, to ignore the cold, the loneliness, the sense of betrayal that had haunted him since he woke up in the laboratory to find himself no longer human.

And now… now his hand burned with the warmth of Hattie’s skin, with the softness of her slender waist beneath his touch. His other hand, his mechanical hand, was still curved in the shape of her waist and he had to force himself to let it relax into another position. She hadn’t flinched at his touch. Had she just been too shocked? Or did she genuinely not feel the disgust that most humans exhibited towards the cyborgs? Several of his fellow cyborgs hated all humans for that, but he had never hated individual humans—only the government that had stolen their lives. But he had buried even that emotion during the long, lonely years of work.

He took another look at the woman riding next to him in the rover. She might not have recoiled from him, but he would be foolish to imagine that she would want more from him than his help. And yet, they would be working together, living together for five years. Perhaps as the years passed, she would realize that he was still as much man as machine. Even telling himself that he was a fool, he let part of his mind drift into foolish dreams, even as the rest of him kept an active survey of the surroundings. He noticed the strange tracks as they approached her homestead and immediately signaled for her to halt. To his relief, she obeyed, although she frowned at him through the windows of the cabin.

When she started to put on her breathing mask and open the door, he shook his head.

“Wait there. I want to see where these tracks lead.”

Her chin came up, but she nodded. Keeping one eye on the rover and the other on the ground, he followed the tracks up a slight ridge overlooking Hattie’s claim. The homestead was nestled in a small valley and he could clearly see a strange rover parked next to one of her greenhouses. Even from this distance, he could see the plastic covering flapping in the wind, and he swore.

They were trying to sabotage her means of making a living.

He started to spur Ghost in their direction, but then he looked back at Hattie still sitting alone and possibly vulnerable in the rover. Pulling his gun from its holster, he fired a shot in the direction of the vehicle instead, but despite his excellent aim, the capacity of the gun was too limited, and he couldn’t reach that far. Still, the shot was enough to chase them away. A brief blur of movement and the vandal’s rover tore off in a cloud of dust. Even with their head start, Ghost could probably catch it, but he wasn’t about to leave Hattie defenseless.

A moment later, her rover pulled up next to him and she pulled on her breathing mask and jumped out.

“What happened?”

“Vandals,” he said briefly, gesturing down at the valley.

“I can’t see any damage.”

“At least one of your greenhouses has been damaged.”

“Fuck,” she swore, then glared up at him. “Why didn’t you go after them?”

“I’m not going to leave you alone.”

“I can take care of myself.” Her hand dropped to the butt of her gun.

He dismounted and strode over to her. “Hattie, in one day you have been threatened with losing your claim, had your bank accounts frozen, and now someone is damaging your property. I think there is more going on here than we realize and until I know you’re safe, I’m not leaving your side.”

“Oh.” She stared up at him, green eyes wide, and he realized that he was probably much too close to her, but he didn’t step back. The dry Martian wind swirled around them and her scent filled his head. He took another step closer, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off her body.

“Do you understand me?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He lifted a hand and heard her breath catch but once again, she didn’t flinch. He gently adjusted the breathing mask across her nose, then turned her towards her vehicle. “Get back in the rover. We need to see what damage has been done and determine if we can make repairs before nightfall.”

With her back to him, she nodded and returned to her vehicle. Her steps looked a little shaky and he berated himself for frightening her. And yet, she hadn’t looked frightened and she hadn’t pulled away. Pushing those facts aside to process later, he waited until she was safely in the vehicle, then turned to lead the way to her claim.

Harriet increased the oxygen level in the rover and took a deep breath, then another, trying to calm her rapid pulse. Just a shortage of air, she decided, but as her eyes went to the tall figure on the white horse, she suspected she was lying to herself. When Morgan stood over her like that, grey eyes blazing, she hadn’t wanted to run away despite his obvious anger. She wanted to lean into him, to press her body against the long hard strength of his. But it was more than just his physical presence. For most of her life she had been a caretaker—first of her mother, then Winthrop. Having someone want to look after her for a change was annoying, but also unexpectedly comforting.

He’s just doing a job, she reminded herself, even though the thought rang hollow.

By the time they reached the first greenhouse, she thought she had managed to convince herself that they needed to keep their relationship professional. A conviction that went out of her mind as soon as she stepped out of the rover and got a good look at the damage.

“Those bastards! Do they know how long it took me to build this?”

The long building had a frame of Martian iron, covered with inflated plastic panels. Their third hand had quit while they were assembling it and she had spent the better part of two weeks painstakingly completing the assembly and covering the frame with the panels. Now the plastic on one end hung in tattered shreds from the frame.

“It took you to build? You didn’t have any help?”

“No. The worker we hired quit.” She sighed. “That was our last attempt at hiring help.”

“But your… husband assisted you, did he not?”

“No.” She started to pick up shreds of plastic, avoiding his eyes. “He was not well enough for physical labor. And he had a business meeting during part of the time I was building it.”

“What business?”

“Something to do with GenCon. He met with them at least every few weeks for several days each time.”

“And left you alone,” he said grimly.

“Well, yes. But I told you, I’m—”

“—capable of looking after yourself. I know. But you don’t have to anymore.” Before she could respond, he frowned at the neat beds of bare ground inside the frame. “At least nothing appears to have been damaged. You have not planted crops yet?”

“Oh, this greenhouse isn’t for crops. I’m growing dirt.” She laughed as he raised an eyebrow. “More specifically, I’m enriching the Martian regolith with organic matter and microorganisms so it can be used for planting. The different beds are experiments with different types of soil enhancements.”

“Then it is undamaged?”

“For now, but it won’t remain so overnight. The temperature drops too far.” Thanks to the initial terraforming efforts, the daytime temperatures could be quite pleasant, but they dropped rapidly below freezing after dark. “Each of the greenhouses has its own RTG—a radioisotope thermoelectric generator—to provide heat and keep the temperature high enough to prevent the plants from dying, but the area has to be enclosed.” She kicked the ground. “All of that work lost.”

“Not if we can get it sealed by nightfall, correct?”

“No, as long as the RTG wasn’t damaged—but it’s impossible.”

“Is it?” He shot her a quick smile, the expression turning his face from stern to breathtakingly attractive. “Do you have more panels?”

Despite her skepticism, by the time night fell, the greenhouse was once again safely enclosed. She had found enough panels to cover most of the destroyed section and Morgan had patched together a final piece large enough to cover the end. Working with him had been truly amazing. He moved with a rapid strength that made her feel extremely clumsy, but despite his attempts to get her to rest, she had insisted on helping him. They had settled—or rather he had reluctantly agreed—that she would inflate the panels while he added them onto the frame. But even with her more limited role, she was dirty and exhausted by the time the light disappeared completely and the temperature began to drop.

Morgan started the heater in the greenhouse, then led her towards the habitat. As the inner door of the airlock opened, she heard the clucking and sighed.

“I have to go tend to the chickens. If you want to take a shower—”

“I will tend to them.”

“You know, you really need to stop interrupting me.”

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head without looking the least bit abashed. “But I am not going to cleanse myself while there is still work to be done.”

“Do you know how to take care of chickens?”

“I assume you will tell me.”

She shook her head. “It would be easier to show you. Come on.”

The chicken coop was located in its own small dome down an enclosed corridor leading off of the main one. The small flock clucked excitedly when she entered and rushed towards her.

“They seem happy to see you.”

“They know I’m bringing them food,” she said dryly, and showed him how to scatter the pellets. While they ate, she checked for eggs, triumphantly producing three from the nesting boxes and finding a fourth hidden behind a corner of the coop.

“Flora likes to lay her eggs back here for some reason.”

“Flora?”

“The small white one.” She laughed. “I think she likes keeping me on my toes.”

As soon as the chickens finished eating, she dimmed the lights and herded them to their roosts.

“I was not aware that any flocks were producing yet,” Morgan said as he followed her back down the corridor.

“GenCon gave them to Winthrop when we arrived. They had already reached the age to lay eggs.”

“A very generous gift.”

“I realize that now. At the time, I was just trying not to panic at one more thing to figure out.” She walked across the main room to the wall of windows looking out over the homestead. Night had fallen and she could see little of their surroundings, only the outline of rocky hills etched against the sky. “Do you think they’re still out there?”

“I suspect I scared them off. They departed very quickly.”

“Why would someone want to do that kind of damage? Everyone knows how hard it is to establish a claim.”

“Perhaps they are jealous.” He looked around the large dome and she followed his gaze. A comfortable couch, a well-fitted kitchen area, and even a dining table filled the space. “You have a nice home, chickens, greenhouses. Most of the other settlers are still living in one room and surviving on MREs and a few scraps of green from their hydroponic gardens.”

“I work just as hard as they do,” she protested, fighting back the usual feeling of guilt. Winthrop’s wealth had overwhelmed her on Earth. The amount of luxury that he took for granted was almost obscene to someone who had spent her whole life fighting for more than the bare necessities. She had thought that here on Mars the differences wouldn’t be as dramatic, but she knew how much further ahead they were than most of the settlers.

“I know you work hard,” Morgan said.

“How? You don’t know me.”

“I have… seen you around.” Before she could respond, he gently took her hands and turned them palm-up in his. “These are not the hands of an idle person.”

She had always had big hands for a woman and now they were scratched and calloused and dirty, but he cradled them as if they were precious. They looked almost dainty against his two big palms, one firm and human, the other of smooth bronzed metal. She stood looking at the contrast for just a minute too long, then hastily pulled her hands back.

“Do you really think that’s what it was about? Jealousy?”

“I don’t know.” Morgan’s face turned grim. “But I intend to find out.”

“Could you see who it was?”

“No. My vision is still human—enhanced to the maximum amount that human eyes can manage, but still fundamentally human. My… friend Clint has cybernetic eyes. I suspect he would have been able to identify them.” His mouth twisted wryly. “This is the first time I have ever wished to be more mechanical.”

“Did you get to choose?” she asked.

“Choose?”

“When you volunteered. Did you get to choose which enhancements you received?”

“I did not volunteer.” The half-smile disappeared beneath his usual stern mask. “I will make a circuit around your land to make sure that all is secure. I will lock the entrance behind me.”

Before she could respond, he disappeared through the airlock as she stared after him in dismay. His words echoed in her thoughts before she finally shook her head and forced herself to move.

He hadn’t volunteered? Earth Government had told everyone that the cyborgs were volunteers—men who chose to give up their humanity in order to help the human race. Of course, they had also been quite clear that the cyborgs were no longer human and shouldn’t be treated as such. Her head spun at the implications, but she was too tired to make sense of it tonight. With a weary sigh, she headed for yet another one of the luxuries that GenCon had provided.

Adjacent to the main dome was their personal hydroponic garden. That in itself was not a luxury—all of the settlers had the gardens to filter water, provide oxygen, and produce additional food. No, the luxury was in the large round tub in the center of the dome. Removing the insulated top, she uncovered a steaming pool of heated water. Ladling water out of the tub, she washed quickly, letting the water trickle down under the floor slats to be processed and recycled. As soon as she finished she slipped into the tub, settling down on the interior bench with a moan of pleasure.

Water had been so strictly rationed back on Earth that she had never taken a real bath until she moved in with Winthrop, but she had quickly come to appreciate the difference between a short, timed shower and a long soak. Despite the desert atmosphere, Mars actually had an abundant supply of clean water trapped in subdural ice. All of the settlers had a pumping system to convert the ice to water and pull it to the surface, but she doubted that anyone else had arranged for a soaking tub. Did anyone know that it was here? Perhaps knowing about it would be enough to inspire jealousy, but this time she refused to give in to guilt. Instead, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift back to the tall figure of her ranger on his white horse.

Chapter Five

M-231 stalked out of the habitat and tried to fight back his anger. Volunteer? As if anyone would volunteer to be made less than human. Fucking Earth Government had taken the choice away from him. He had been seventeen and desperate when he signed up for the military, too grateful for guaranteed meals and a place to sleep to worry about the details. It had taken a year for the steady diet to finally allow his body to catch up to his height, for his emaciated frame to fill in and muscles to appear. And he had still been grateful. Grateful until—no, he refused to think about that now. He steadied his heart rate and his breathing, slowed his pulse, and resumed walking with a more measured stride.

As he began a circuit of the habitat, he wondered if his suggestion that jealousy had been the reason for the sabotage was true after all. Not quite ready to expand on his other suspicions, he had thrown it out to divert her, but she was incredibly wealthy by the standards of most of the settlers. A connected vehicle shed held the rover, a small ATV, and a transport wagon. In addition to the chicken coop, another larger, empty dome was obviously intended for more livestock. A small science laboratory also adjoined the main corridor, as did her sleeping quarters, a bathroom, and…

He came to an abrupt halt as he turned the corner and saw the hydroponic garden. The transparent walls were veiled with rows of greenery, but they did not completely obscure his view. Unable to look away, he watched as Hattie ladled water out of a central pool, letting it stream down over her body—her naked body. His cock turned rock hard and pressed against his pants as he greedily drank in the sight. Long brown hair, darkened by the water, streamed down over her shoulders but did not hide two small, rosy-tipped breasts. His cock throbbed as she slid a soapy hand across them, down her slender stomach, and between her legs. She obviously did not know she was being watched—her actions were not intended to be erotic, simply a woman cleansing herself, but the unexpected intimacy of the sight had him harder than he had ever been. As she bent over the tub to get more water, revealing the full white globes of her ass, he actually took a half-step forward before he regained control.

He wanted to be in there with her, to come up behind her and bury himself in all that lush human softness, to make her cry out with pleasure, over and over again. His cock jerked at the thought, and with an impatient yank, he freed his erection. She lifted her arms over her head in a smooth, graceful gesture as she poured more water over her body, her expression rapt, and he exploded, his seed shooting out into the freezing air to fall on the barren Martian soil.

Completely unaware of his presence, Hattie stepped into the tub, sinking down into the water with a soft moan of pleasure that had him stiffening again, but as the water covered her, he came back to his senses, looking down at the icy, damp spot on the ground with a feeling of disgust. What was happening to him? Watching a woman from the dark, unable to control his lust. No wonder human females were warned to stay away from cyborgs. Determined not to repeat his shameful action, he returned to his patrol. Keeping his eyes firmly away from the dwelling, he vowed to stay outside all night, away from temptation.

With a start, Harriet forced herself awake. The combination of physical labor and warm water left her feeling almost too relaxed. Knowing that her cyborg ranger was patrolling the homestead made her feel… safe in a way that she hadn’t felt for a very long time. He was just so tall and strong that she couldn’t imagine anything hurting him. But still, that didn’t give her the right to lie around while he was working. She would make him a nice supper, she thought as she toweled off, then hesitated. Did the cyborgs eat?

She couldn’t remember if she had ever heard—and based on his reaction earlier, she likely couldn’t believe a word of it anyway. As she dressed, she decided she would make enough food for two, well, three considering his size, and if he didn’t want it, she would just eat leftovers for the next few days. At least her pantry was well-stocked. In addition to the original rations supplied to all settlers, GenCon sent weekly deliveries. Winthrop had shrugged them off as part of his salary when she protested the influx of food.

“But we really don’t need them,” she had argued.

“Just put them in the pantry.” An unexpectedly serious look had crossed his usually mild face. “You never know when times will get worse.”

Had he anticipated something like this happening? She wondered as she prepared the meal. She still wasn’t sure exactly what he had been doing for GenCon. He never liked to discuss his meetings with them, and she hadn’t pushed him. Even that last time when he had been obviously ill, he had insisted on attending and refused to let her accompany him. And he had been right in one sense; the trip hasn’t hurt him. He had been safely on his way home when the storm hit and the stress had proven too much for his fragile heart.

The memory made her shiver and she realized that the temperature was dropping. The wind had picked up as well and the anxiety that had haunted her since the day Winthrop failed to return made her pulse increase.

Where was Morgan? No matter how tough the cyborgs were, he shouldn’t be out in one of the terrible Martian dust storms. Her nervousness increased when she finished cooking and he had still not returned. She tried peering through the windows but the increasing amount of dust in the air made the night even darker than before and she couldn’t see anything. Had she offended him? Was he reluctant to come back because of her words? After pacing back and forth for another few minutes as the wind increased, she went for her outer clothes, pulling on a long thermal coat and a heavy-duty breathing mask before wrapping a long scarf around her head and neck.

The icy blast of the wind almost yanked the outer door of the airlock away from her, but she managed to shut it behind her. Dust swirled around her, whipped into clouds by the gusts of wind.

“Morgan,” she called. “You need to come inside.”

No response except the howl of the wind. Maybe he was down at the greenhouse, checking on the repairs? She took another step away from the airlock, but the frigid wind slammed into her. He might be able to survive the storm, but she couldn’t. It would be foolish to go any further. She forced her way back to the entrance, but she couldn’t make herself go inside, not yet.

“Morgan!” she screamed. “Come inside!”

She kept calling until her throat was raw, and she could tell that dust was beginning to clog the breathing mask. With a muffled sob, she gave up and opened the outer door. Once again, the heavy door flew out of her hands but this time she couldn’t pull it back. Sobs choked her throat as she wrestled with it, pulling in vain against the force of the wind. If she opened the inner door to the airlock without closing the outer door, she would lose most of the interior oxygen and it would take some time for the habitat to recover. Frantically, she tried to remember which of the interior doors were closed. The garden door, had she closed it? She didn’t always because she liked the scent of growing things, but she was almost sure she had closed it tonight.

Her arms trembled and it was getting harder to breathe. If she didn’t take the chance now, she might not even have the strength to manage the inner door. She made one last pull at the door just as a tall figure loomed out of the darkness. A startled cry escaped her, and she stumbled back before she recognized Morgan. Stepping into the airlock next to her, he grabbed the outer door and pulled it closed with effortless ease.

As soon as it sealed, she threw herself at him, sobbing behind the mask.

“You’re all right. You came back.”

“Of course I came back. I told you that I would be by your side and I keep my promises.” His voice was hoarse, scratchy from the dust, but she didn’t care. She buried herself in his chest, still sobbing. Once the pressure equalized and the inner door opened, he pulled off her mask.

“Hush now, Hattie. Everything is all right.” His voice had already assumed its normal deep, smooth tone.

“I was so worried about you,” she choked, trying to stop crying.

“Worried about me? Oh, sweetheart, you should never worry about me.” And he bent his head and kissed her.

Shock held her motionless for a moment but then she felt him start to withdraw and she threw her arms around his neck. As soon as she responded, he didn’t hesitate, parting her lips and taking her mouth in a demanding kiss that sent a thrill shooting through her. This was no gentle, respectful, passionless kiss. Instead, he awoke a part of her that she had suppressed for years and she met him just as passionately. Her breasts ached and demanded, and she rubbed them against the hard warmth of his chest, trying to get closer. She could feel the iron bar of his cock against her stomach and she writhed impatiently against it, seeking more. He brought his hand to her hair, and a few strands caught in the metal, the unexpected tug shocking both of them.

Chapter Six

With a muttered curse, M-231 started to step back, then stopped when he pulled Hattie’s hair again. As gently as possible, he disentangled the soft brown strands first.

“I apologize,” he said stiffly. “I did not intend for that to happen.”

A dazed expression had covered her face but at his words, her eyes narrowed. “I suppose you tripped and fell against my mouth?”

“No, I kissed you.”

“But you didn’t want to?”

“I wanted to very much, but I didn’t intend to. You are under my protection for the next five years.”

Her anger appeared to fade, and her shoulders slumped. “You’re right, of course. We shouldn’t be complicating matters with sex.”

Sex? Had she actually considered having sex with him? His cock jerked impatiently but he used all of his will power to force it down. She undoubtedly would not have gone through with it. Especially now that his cybernetic arm had made itself known. He scowled at his clumsy hand, then forced a more neutral expression.

“I apologize again.”

“Oh, stop it,” she muttered. “I’m more upset about you disappearing out into the storm than I am about the kiss. What the hell were you doing? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”

“I didn’t know if I would be… welcome. I intended to bed down in the vehicle shed with Ghost.”

“Not welcome? Listen, we have an agreement. We’re partners. That means you are entitled to one half of everything, including this habitat. Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

For the first time, he noticed her appearance. She was covered with dust, her face smeared with dirt and tears, and his chest ached. She looked beautiful and vulnerable—and worried. Attempting to ease her tension, he ran one of the fingers on his human hand across the dirt covering her soft cheek.

“It looks like your bath was wasted.”

“I guess so.” She gave a rueful smile, then frowned. “Wait a minute. How did you know I took a bath?”

“I, um, smelled your soap,” he said quickly. It wasn’t a lie, but he was uneasily aware that he was not telling her the entire truth. How could he confess that he had stood outside in the dark and watched her the way a starving animal would watch a feast?

Her suspicious look vanished. “Your sense of smell is that good?”

“All of my senses are enhanced, although again, only to the maximum range for human physiology.”

“Does that include taste? I made us some supper.”

“You cooked for me?” He couldn’t hide his shock. To the best of his recollection, no one had ever prepared a meal for him.

“Well, yes. Do you eat… I mean do you want to eat?” she asked hastily, her cheeks turning pink.

“I can go for long periods without human food, but yes, I do eat. I would be honored to share your table. That is… do you have enough?”

“Oh, yes. GenCon kept us well stocked. I assume that won’t continue but we have plenty of supplies, plus the chickens and the gardens, of course. Just let me wash up—no time for a bath.” She grinned at him as she disappeared into the small cleansing room.

When she returned, he was still standing in the middle of the room, fighting his guilt. She gestured him to the table and turned to the small stove. “I was thinking about what you said earlier, about how we are wealthy by Martian standards.”

“Yes?”

She kept her back to him as she broke the eggs they had gathered into a small pan. “I was just thinking how ironic it was. One of the reasons why Winthrop asked me to marry him was that the women of his class—wealthy Earth women—weren’t interested in giving up any of their money or status. But they would have had it here as well.”

“I suspect they would not find the other conditions tolerable.”

“No, I suppose you’re right.” The contents of the pan were divided onto two plates, then she added more food and brought them to the table. “Nothing fancy, I’m afraid. Scrambled eggs, mushroom risotto, and salad. But the eggs, mushrooms and the salad are all from my… from our homestead.”

The food smelled wonderful, but he would have happily eaten anything she put in front of him. He took a bite and groaned with pleasure. “This is wonderful.”

A delighted smile crossed her face. “I’m so glad you like it.”

She smiled again a few minutes later at the sight of his empty plate. “I guess you really did like it.”

“I’m sorry. I haven’t had much use for manners lately.”

“Please don’t apologize. It’s a nice change to see someone enjoying the food I prepare.”

“Your… husband did not enjoy your cooking?” The word never came any easier. He hated the thought of her with another man.

“He was ill for much of our time together and he rarely had an appetite. And before that, my mother was the same way.” A shadow crossed her face before she forced a smile. “Would you like some more?”

“If you have enough…”

“No more eggs but I made a lot of everything else. You’re so big I thought you might eat a lot of food.” The look she passed over his body was definitely one of admiration before she blushed and turned back to the stove, and he had to force his unruly cock back under control.

This time, he managed to eat more slowly, watching her as she ate with quick, dainty bites.

“You said one of the reasons,” he said thoughtfully.

“One of the reasons?”

“One of the reasons your… husband married you.”

“I used to work for him. After my mother died, the rent on our apartment was more than I could afford. I was desperate and he took pity on me.”

“Pity? Did he tell you that?” A surge of anger roared through him. “You are a beautiful, capable, desirable woman. He should have been honored that you agreed to marry him.”

“Oh.” Her eyes went wide and startled and for a moment he was afraid he had overstepped in his anger, but then her face softened. She put a small hand on his, not even seeming to notice that it was his cybernetic hand. “Thank you for saying that. But, no, Winthrop never told me that. He was always a gentleman.”

Something he had never been. He had grown up on the streets, half-starved and wild. The only manners he had learned were the ones drilled into him in the military.

“He sounds very… nice.”

“He was, and he was a good friend to me.” Her eyes focused on something in the distance. “But he never loved me.”

“Impossible,” he said sincerely, and he heard her breath catch.

“You really need to stop saying things like that. My head is going to swell.”

“I never say anything I do not mean.”

She blushed again and patted his hand before rising from the table. “I’ll just get things cleaned up.” The wind howled outside, and she shivered. “Maybe I’ll make it an early night. I hate listening to the storm.”

“I will clean up from our meal,” he said firmly. “Do you want to take another bath?”

“That’s all right. Once I washed my face and brushed the dust out of my hair, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. You really don’t have to clean up.”

“Of course, I do. You cooked. And we are partners, are we not?”

Her brilliant smile dazzled him. “Yes, we are.”

“Why don’t you sit by the heater and warm up? Once I’m done here, we can make plans, if you’re not too tired.”

“No, I’m fine. I’ll just get a sweater and be right back.”

She vanished into the bedroom and it took most of his self-control to turn back to the dishes rather than follow her.

Hattie returned wearing long draped pants and a matching long-sleeved top in a deep shade of green. The color suited her and although she was completely covered, he was still excruciatingly aware of the soft curves of her body beneath the cloth. She grinned at him.

“I changed into my jammies—I’m treating you like a roommate already.”

“I want you to be comfortable,” he said gravely.

“What about you? Do you have something comfortable to change into?”

He hesitated but went with the truth. “I usually just wear my uniform.”

“Even to sleep?”

“No.”

“But—oh.” Her cheeks turned pink as her eyes seemed to drop almost unwillingly to his groin, but she didn’t shrink back. “Would you like some pajama pants? I bought them for Winthrop, but I don’t think he thought they were appropriate. He never wore them.”

She looked so eager that he didn’t have the heart to refuse.

“Yes, of course. If you would like me to wear them.”

“Oh, good. And you can take your shower now as well.” She cast a somewhat doubtful look at his arm. “It’s okay if you get your arm wet?”

“Yes. It can survive a wide variety of environments.”

“And you? I mean the rest of you? You can survive too, right?”

A small frown line appeared between her brows and he couldn’t resist the temptation to smooth away the line.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Nothing is going to happen to me.”

For a moment, she almost appeared to sway towards him, and his body froze, but then she gave a determined nod.

“Good. I’ll just get those pants for you.”

Standing under a cold shower a few minutes later, he did his best to remind himself that this was a partnership, not a relationship. She was simply lonely and looking for reassurance. But his mind traveled back to the image of her bathing and his cock stiffened. Giving into temptation, he tugged at it, his hand rough and demanding, so unlike Hattie’s long graceful fingers. What would it feel like to have her touch him? To caress his aching flesh or perhaps even to use that small pink tongue on him? The image was too much for him and he came with a hoarse groan. He felt like the randy teenager he had never been. At the age when most young men were discovering girls, he had been fighting for his survival. The few females he had encountered were already worn down, toughened by life on the streets.

But Hattie…

Even though he suspected that her life had not been easy, she still retrained a degree of optimism and a sense of hope. He would make sure that wasn’t taken away from her.

He toweled off and picked up the pants she had provided. Picturing her reserved husband, he found it easy to believe that he hadn’t been a fan of dark-red silk pajamas. For that matter, they weren’t anything he would have chosen either, but he wasn’t about to disappoint her. The silky fabric felt luxurious against his naked skin as he pulled them on, but the loose fabric would do nothing to conceal an erection. He would have to make sure he remained in control.

Once he was dressed, he realized that without a shirt, his cybernetic parts would be completely revealed. Would she recoil from him? She hadn’t so far, and he decided that it would be foolish to hide—nothing would change him back to the man he had been. Despite his resolve, he still had to gather his courage before reentering the main dome. His earlier resolution to remain in control was immediately tested when Hattie looked up and smiled at him, her gaze appreciative rather than repulsed.

Chapter Seven

Oh my. Hattie’s breath caught as Morgan strode into the room. Broad, bare shoulders—the right one merging seamlessly into a fascinating arrangement of bronzed metal—topped a wide muscled chest and a ladder of abdominal muscles leading down to… The burgundy silk pants hung low on his narrow hips, but despite the loose fit, she could clearly see the outline of his cock beneath the thin material, hanging heavily against his thigh. Even as she watched it twitched, starting to thicken, and she hastily snatched her gaze away.

“Do you want me to put on a shirt? To cover my arm?”

His voice sounded strained and she looked at him in dismay when she realized he had misinterpreted her averted eyes. “No, of course not. Unless… are you cold without a shirt?”

“Not at all.” He shrugged one big shoulder, muscles rippling. “I told you I can withstand a wide range of temperatures.”

“Withstanding and enjoying are not the same thing,” she said tartly. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes. I find this temperature very pleasant.”

“Good.” She settled back into the couch and smiled at him. “I brought out the plans I made for the next five years if you’d like to take a look.”

“You made?”

He sat on the other end of the couch and the large piece of furniture seemed to shrink. She was overwhelmingly conscious of the heat emanating from his big body, of the scent of clean male, but she forced herself to respond to his question.

“Mainly me, I’m afraid. By the time we were on the journey here, Winthrop had begun to… deteriorate. His limited energies were more concentrated on his role with GenCon. He wasn’t as interested in the day to day details of the homestead.”

“Unlike you?”

“Exactly. I am determined to make this place succeed. And on its own—without the need for Lewis money or assistance from GenCon.”

“You are quite a woman, Hattie,” he said solemnly, and she blushed.

“I haven’t done it yet. And really, all of this is just based on the information provided to us by Earth Government.” Handing him a sheaf of documents, she began to explain her plans.

Several hours later, she finally wound to a close. Unlike Winthrop, Morgan had been an interested, involved participant. Once he realized that she wasn’t offended by his comments, he had several interesting suggestions.

“Do you really think we should devote a section of the greenhouse to grain and hops?” she asked.

“Yes. We could sell it to one of the bars in town or even set up our own brewery.” He shot her his twisted grin. “If there is one product that is always in demand, it’s alcohol.”

“I suppose you’re right. Speaking of which, would you like a small glass of brandy? I’ve been saving it for a celebration and somehow this feels like the right moment.”

When Morgan nodded, she went to retrieve the bottle of brandy and, after a moment’s hesitation, the two cut-crystal glasses that Winthrop had brought along with them.

“A remnant of civilization in the wilderness,” he had said with his small smile when he told her he planned to bring them.

“Is that what you think Mars will be? A wilderness?”

He had sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

“Why are you doing this, Winthrop? Do you really even want to go?”

He had swirled the brandy in his glass, looking at the crystalline gold liquid rather than at her.

“It’s what I must do.” Then he had looked up and lifted his glass to her. “Thank you, Harriet. Thank you for accompanying me. Your… enthusiasm helps to make this easier for me.”

“I will make sure I do everything I can to make us a home. We will have a good life there.”

He had smiled and taken a drink, but she wondered once again what he had been thinking. The good life she had promised him had never really happened, but she was still determined to make this a home—a home she would never have to leave.

Shaking away the memories, she poured a healthy portion of brandy for Morgan and a smaller amount for herself and returned to the couch. Their fingers brushed as she handed him the glass and she had to fight to prevent herself from reacting. She had been overwhelming conscious of him all evening, a constant low hum of arousal running beneath the talk of greenhouses and crops and planting lichen.

“So, Morgan,” she said, trying for a lighter note. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I was a soldier. Now, I’m a cyborg. And a ranger.” He didn’t look at her, concentrating instead on the crystal snifter, impossibly delicate in his big hand.

She waited but he didn’t add anything else.

“And that’s it? No family? No friends?”

“No family that I remember. I was placed in one of the government orphanages at birth.”

Earth Government had tried—with a limited degree of success—to control population growth. Because of the penalties associated with unlicensed children, many of them were turned over to the government at birth.

“I was too,” she said quietly. “But my mother adopted me when I was only a few weeks old.”

“She was good to you?”

“Very good. She became sick when I was in my early teens and I spent a long time caring for her. But I treasured every moment we had together.” Her lips trembled.

“I was not adopted.” The stark words fell between them and for a moment she thought he wouldn’t continue, but eventually he sighed. “Almost from the moment I could think for myself I was determined to leave the orphanage. I don’t know how many times I ran away, but they kept hauling me back until I reached the age of twelve. Then they washed their hands of me.”

“Twelve?” She stared at him in appalled horror. “You were on your own at twelve?”

“Yes.” A muscle in his cheek flexed. “It was… difficult, but still better than the orphanage. I joined the military as soon as I could.”

She took a sip of the brandy, relishing the smooth burn sliding over her tongue and down into her stomach. When she looked back at Morgan, she expected him to be gazing off into the distance. Instead, he was looking at her and the heat turning his eyes to gleaming metal made her breath catch. They stared at each other for a moment, then her gaze dropped, snagging on the seam between his chest and his cybernetic arm.

“Earlier you said you didn’t volunteer to become a cyborg,” she said slowly.

“No.”

She waited but this time he didn’t continue. With a slight, impatient noise, he drained his brandy then stood abruptly.

“The storm has died down. I should go and do a last check.”

“Now? But it’s so late.”

“Darkness doesn’t prevent people from misbehaving,” he said dryly.

“Do you really expect trouble?”

He took a look at her worried face and seemed to relent. “Probably not. But I would feel better if I took a quick look around.”

“And then you’ll come back in?”

“You are sure that is what you want?”

“Yes, of course.” Trying not to blush, she added, “I meant what I said before. You’re welcome to have the bedroom. I’ll be fine on the couch.”

“Under no circumstances. You go on to bed now and I’ll try not to disturb you when I come back.”

Before she could respond, he disappeared back into the bathroom and returned moments later, once more clad in his faded black. He headed for the airlock door and she jumped up, catching his arm before he opened it.

“Please be careful, Morgan.”

He looked down at her and his stern face finally softened.

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” He dropped the briefest of kisses on her lips, no more than a faint touch of warm lips, and was gone.

Her hand pressed to her mouth, she peered out into the darkness for a long time before she could make herself go to bed. Leaving a light burning in the main room, she was still listening for his return when she finally fell asleep.

M-231 decided to leave Ghost in the vehicle shed and do a quick patrol on foot instead. As he had told Hattie, he didn’t really expect trouble. The temperature was already well below freezing and most humans didn’t have the resilience to broach the frigid cold. Still, his sense of responsibility drove him to check. That and his sudden discomfort with her questions. She didn’t need to know the kind of life he had led, the horrors he had seen—and committed.

Sitting in the quiet room, drinking the best liquor he’d ever had from the finest glass, it was all too easy to forget that he was there as her partner because she needed help, not because they were a couple. Pushing aside his longing, he picked up his pace, heading for the ridge where they had stopped earlier at a speed no full human could have matched. Once he reached the vantage point, he surveyed her land—their land.

The earlier storm had died down completely, leaving only a fresh layer of dust on everything. Even the ever-present wind seemed to have taken a break and silence hung over the small valley. Overhead, millions of stars were clearly visible through the thin atmosphere and only a few ice clouds trailed across the sky. The habitat dome glowed a soft gold and he realized she must have left the light on for him. His chest ached and he rubbed it absently, the feel of metal reminding him that he had no grounds for longing. Still, his steps quickened as he headed back, and he returned even faster than he had left.

As he let himself quietly back into the habitat, he could hear the soft sound of Hattie’s breathing. She hadn’t even closed the bedroom door, he realized, his chest aching again. How could she trust him that much? Even more determined to protect her, he assumed a position in front of the windows, set his systems to keep watch, and let his body relax into a resting position.

With his senses on alert, he heard it the moment her breathing quickened. A soft sob followed, and he sprang back to full awareness. When she sobbed again, he could no more have stopped himself from going to her than he could have stopped his heart from beating.

The light from the main room was enough for him to see her slender body in the middle of the bed, her eyes closed and her cheeks glistening with tears. Another pitiful sob escaped her lips and he eased himself down on the bed next to her, stroking her soft brown hair lightly.

“Hush, sweetheart.”

At the first touch of his hand, she stilled, then she grabbed him and buried her head in his chest, sobbing even more loudly.

“She l-l-left me,” she stuttered. “They all l-l-leave me.”

“Well, I’m not going to leave you.”

She tightened her fingers in his shirt and cried even harder. All he could do was hold her and whisper reassurances. Her sobs finally stuttered to a stop and big green eyes opened for a second, looking up at him with tear-soaked desperation.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” he promised, and her eyes closed again.

He wondered if she had even been awake. But her hands were still firmly clutching his shirt, so he carefully eased them both back down on the bed. She sighed and snuggled closer and his cock began to stiffen but he firmly suppressed it. He was here to comfort her, nothing more. But with an armful of warm, soft woman, it was very difficult to remember that. Her soft hair brushed his chin and the dark room wrapped them in an illusion of intimacy. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Eight

Harriet awoke feeling exhausted, yet somehow lighter than she had in a long time. Her sinuses ached and she suddenly remembered crying—crying for her mother, crying for Winthrop, crying for herself—in a way she had never let herself before. Despite her sorrow, she had felt safe, just as she did now. Safe and warm and… wrapped in Morgan’s arms. Cheeks flaming, she tried to slip away but his arms tightened around her briefly before they loosened.

“Are you all right?”

The deep, rumbling voice close to her ear sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine. With a start, she realized that while it had taken her a moment to catch on to where she was, her body hadn’t had any doubts. The tight, aching points of her nipples were pressed against his chest and she could feel the slick warmth between her legs.

“I’m sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “Did I cry all over you last night?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really. I just remember being sad and lonely and then… I wasn’t alone.”

“You begged me not to leave.” He eyed her as if he expected her to object.

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“Of course. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“My mother.” She looked down, studying his shirt rather than his expression. “I’m not sure that I ever gave myself a chance to grieve. We both knew it was coming and I thought I had accepted it. But perhaps you never do.”

“No. Death is never easy to accept.”

He looked at her and for a breathless moment, she thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, he gently disengaged her and sat up.

“What do you plan to do today?”

Hiding her disappointment, she sat up as well and forced a smile. “I want to go back down to the soil farm and make sure everything is all right. I’ll check on the other two greenhouses as well—those two have actual crops. Then I need to do some lichen planting.”

Part of the homestead requirements was to spread a specially-bred lichen over fifty percent of the claim. The dark lichen was designed to help absorb heat from the sun and to restore bacteria to the soil.

“I will try and get back in time to assist. But first I want to try and follow the tracks from yesterday to see if I can find out who was attempting to sabotage the claim. Then I need to return to New Arcadia. We left so quickly yesterday that I didn’t get a chance to make arrangements on handling my duties.”

She bit back her immediate protest to his plans; she had no right to tell him what to do. Instead, she started with the easier subject. “Does that mean you won’t be a ranger anymore?”

His twisted grin appeared. “I will always be a ranger. I’m just going to change my territory so I can stay close to the claim and do my share.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you cover the power stations?” She might have done her best to hide her interest in him, but she knew that he frequently took long patrols up to where the huge stations were generating greenhouse gases.

“I did. But now I intend to be… home here, every night.”

Ducking her head to hide her delighted smile, she took a deep breath and brought up the other subject.

“Do you really have to follow those tracks? I’m sure it was just foolish vandalism. You said people might be jealous. Now that you’re here, it probably won’t happen again.”

“It’s definitely not going to happen again,” he said grimly.

The words escaped before she could pull them back. “I don’t want you to get hurt!”

His face softened. “Sweetheart, I assure you I am more than a match for any human male.”

“But you don’t know how many people were behind it.”

“And I don’t care.” Before she could continue her argument, he climbed out of bed. “Is there something I can prepare for the morning meal?”

“I usually just have a protein bar.” She gave him a rueful grin. “I still miss coffee. Winthrop didn’t care for it, so he only stocked up on tea.”

“He should have considered your needs.”

“He did,” she said automatically, then shrugged a shoulder. “But he was used to getting whatever he wanted. I think he assumed that I would do the same.”

“I will do my best to ensure you get whatever you want,” he said firmly. “I’m going to brush last night’s dust off of the solar array and do a quick check of the property. I’ll let you know before I leave.”

He disappeared without another word, but after she washed and dressed, she found a protein bar and a cup of tea waiting for her on the kitchen table. His thoughtfulness made her chest ache.

True to his word, he returned to tell her farewell, then departed on Ghost. As she watched him ride off into the distance, the homestead suddenly felt lonelier than ever before.

Don’t be ridiculous, she told herself. You’re used to being on your own.

After her check on the greenhouses—all intact and in good shape—she went to gather her lichen supplies. The powdered plant material was mixed with a nutrient liquid, then spread over the surface of the ground with a long-handled pole. It was a boring, tedious job and the constant dipping and sweeping made her back hurt but it was a requirement to own her land and she was going to make sure that she met every requirement.

Just after noon, she finally completed the section she had assigned herself for the day and trudged back to the habitat with weary steps. Just as she reached the airlock, a rumble made her look up eagerly before she remembered that Ghost wouldn’t make that much noise. Her heart sank as she recognized Quilby’s rover. The last thing she wanted was another confrontation with the man, but she couldn’t ignore him, and she would rather face him out here than have him inside her home again. With her hand on her gun, she waited by the door for him to park the rover and dismount.

“Mr. Quilby.”

He gave her a broad, insincere smile. “Ms. Lewis.”

“Why are you here?” She raised an eyebrow. “I now have a partner and the claim is entirely legal.”

The smile disappeared. “A machine is not a partner.”

“According to the Claims Office, he meets all of the requirements.”

He snorted. “And just where is this theoretical partner of yours?”

Her chin went up. “Working.”

“I’m telling you—you can’t trust those machines.” He took a step closer. “They’re dangerous. All of them. That’s what happens when you turn a killer into a robot.”

“What do you—”

She stopped but it was too late. Quilby’s eyes lit with an evil smirk.

“You mean you didn’t know? Reckon the government didn’t want it to get out at that. All of them cyborgs are killers. That’s why the government chose ‘em. They use them too. Use them to put down any humans that go against them.”

A thousand thoughts swirled in her brain, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing that he had worried her. “I have no doubts about my partner. Now, why are you here?”

“I might have been a little hasty in my first visit. Didn’t realize you were so determined on homesteading.”

“Instead of whoring myself out, you mean?”

He scratched his head and tried to look regretful. It wasn’t convincing.

“Like I said, a little hasty. Anyways, I got a client who wants to take over this claim.” He held up a hand when she started to speak. “Now that I realize you really want to homestead, we’re prepared to offer you another plot in exchange.”

“I don’t understand.” She frowned at him. “Why this one? There are millions of acres of land available on Mars.”

“Let’s just say she, I mean they, have a… sentimental attachment to this plot.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

He shrugged. “Maybe so, but you could come out of it really well. My client is prepared to offer a triple plot in exchange.”

“Triple? That’s impossible.”

“No. You see, this wouldn’t be a claim but an outright sale. All yours right from the start.”

A triple plot? And an outright sale? She looked at Quilby, who tried to beam at her, but his smile felt just as slimy as it had the day before. As tempting as the offer sounded, she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

“I would have to talk to my partner first,” she said slowly.

Anger flashed across his expression, then disappeared just as quickly. “He’s a machine. No say in this at all. I thought you wanted land?”

“I do. But I don’t mind working for it and I’ve put a lot of work into this property already.”

He scowled. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours to think about it. No more.”

“Surely a sentimental client would appreciate that it’s a difficult decision?” she said innocently.

Quilby had apparently stretched his good-natured act as much as possible. He stormed back over to his rover, pausing for one last parting shot.

“Twenty-four hours,” he said. “Or you’ll regret it.”

Chapter Nine

As M-231 mounted Ghost and rode away from the habitat, he had to force himself not to turn around. He hated leaving Hattie, especially after the closeness they had shared last night and this morning. Yes, he needed to investigate the sabotage and, yes, he needed to make arrangements to switch duties, but leaving his woman still felt wrong.

His woman? Perhaps it was just as well that he had errands to run if he already felt so possessive. In the orphanage, then on the streets, he never had anything to call his own. The military had also never encouraged the soldiers to claim personal ownership of anything. And as a cyborg? He was not even allowed to own property, let alone to marry. He needed to keep his instincts in check.

Despite his warning, he had to force his attention back to the tracks, almost missing the point where they veered off along the rocks. Between the rocky terrain and the increased dust from last night’s storm, the faint markings grew more difficult to follow and he swore when he reached the end of a small canyon only to confront a rock wall. They must have taken another path through the maze of rocks. He tried retracing his steps, but he was unable to identify another path. Reluctantly admitting defeat, he turned to head for town. In addition to arranging for a change in his duties, he intended to obtain a security system that could be used to monitor the claim. He was going to make sure that no one else interfered with her hard work.

The sun was approaching its zenith by the time he reached New Arcadia, but the town was still quiet. He headed for the cheap plastic building that served as both an office and temporary quarters for the cyborgs. C-487—Clint—was leaving just as he arrived. It still felt strange to think of the other cyborg as more than just a fellow victim of Earth Government, to think of him as a friend.

“Clint.”

“Morgan.” The other man studied him from behind the sunglasses that partially hid the red glow of his cybernetic eyes. “I hear you have moved out to a claim.”

He forced his face to remain calm. “Hattie, Mrs. Lewis, needs my help.”

“I heard her husband had died.” A brief but perceptible pause. “Is she the one?”

He found himself curiously reluctant to discuss Hattie and regretted having mentioned to Clint that there was a woman to whom he was attracted, but they were friends of a sort and Clint too had a human female to protect.

“Yes,” he said, then admitted, “I am concerned about her safety. Do you worry about your female?”

“All the time.” The other male gave a rueful grin. “But I can only do as much as she will let me.”

“I think Hattie may be in trouble.”

Clint’s expression turned serious. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. She was threatened with losing her claim—that’s why she agreed to take me as a partner. Then her accounts were frozen.”

“I assume you can take care of any financial needs?” They were paid a token salary and even though the majority of it was withheld in order to pay for their “improvements,” with nothing and no one on whom to spend the income, most of them had acquired a sizeable store of credits.

“Of course, although there is no immediate need for additional funds. It just seems… odd that everything is happening at once. In addition, someone tried to sabotage one of her greenhouses yesterday.”

“Sabotage?” Clint frowned at him. “That’s not exactly a common crime on Mars. Have you tracked down the culprit?”

“No. I tried following their vehicle tracks, but they disappeared into a maze of canyons. I was unable to find where they emerged, but I will search again.”

“I don’t have time today, but perhaps Josephine and I could come to visit tomorrow? My cybernetic eyes have their uses.”

“I would appreciate that,” he said sincerely.

“Of course. What are friends for?”

“Apparently to prevent you both from working,” a voice snapped, and M-231 bit back a groan as they both stood at attention.

“Sir.”

S-756 scowled at them. A weathered older man, he could have passed for human at first glance, but M-231 knew that his heart and the left side of his chest were completely cybernetic. He had held a high-ranking military position on Earth and had been placed in charge of the rangers. He also served as the chief judge for any disputes in their territory. In spite of the fact that he despised humans, his rigid sense of justice made him an impartial judge.

“Finally dragged yourself away from that human?” he sneered at Clint.

Clint’s face darkened. “Not at all. I merely came to town to file my report and pick up some additional supplies.”

“And what about you, M-231? I heard that you have fallen into the same trap.”

“I have partnered with a human female who needs my help,” he said stiffly.

S-756 snorted. “And I suppose you were only too willing to let her use you? Fools.”

“I am not a fool,” Clint snapped.

“Both of you are. You’re willing to let some human order you around as long as they need you. As soon as they’re done with you, you’ll be back out in the cold.”

To his surprise, Clint didn’t lose his temper but simply shook his head. “My Josephine is not like that.”

“Neither is Hattie.” He hoped. S-756’s words taunted him, despite the assurance he tried to project in his answer.

In response, S-756 snorted again but let the subject drop. “I suppose that means you’re here to tell me you need to switch your duties?”

“Yes. I can’t make the power station circuit.” His usual route would keep him away from Hattie for at least two weeks and he wasn’t about to leave her alone for that long. “I am required to stay on the claim.”

“You know the fucking humans won’t let you take ownership of a claim.”

“The claim will remain in her name, but I am her partner.”

“I seriously doubt that.” Before he could protest, S-756 continued, “I’ll take the power stations. You patrol the Eastern half of the valley and take your usual shift in town.”

Surprised, it took him a minute to respond. “Thank you.” After a brief hesitation, he added, “Clint and I have begun using our human names on occasion. What is yours?”

“S-756.” The older cyborg scowled at him. “I have no desire to pretend to be a fucking human.”

“We are all part human,” Clint pointed out.

“No. We are more.” S-756 turned to depart. “I’ll check in with you when I return.”

They watched in silence as he left.

“Bastard,” Clint said, scowling after him.

“It was nice of him to take my circuit.”

“Perhaps,” the other cyborg agreed reluctantly. “Maybe he just wanted more time on his own. But I have no desire to spend any more time thinking about him than necessary. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Clint grinned. “I suspect Josephine will enjoy having someone to talk to other than me.”

They parted without any additional conversation and M-231 headed for home.

He found Hattie pacing inside the main dome, muttering to herself.

“Is something wrong, sweetheart?”

“Wrong? I don’t know. Do you know Mr. Quilby?”

“The GenCon representative? Yes, I know him.” Even for a human he was a poor specimen and M-231 despised him. “Why?”

“Did I tell you that he was the one who originally told me that I was going to lose my claim?”

“No.”

“He seemed delighted to deliver the news as well. Then he showed up again today.”

Outrage vied with concern. “He was here? While you were alone? Did he bother you? I should not have left.”

“He was actually kind of polite, well for him anyway.” She shrugged. “But this is the strange thing. He offered us a triple plot as an outright purchase in return for this claim.”

His heart sank. If she could take ownership immediately then he would no longer be needed. S-756’s words rang in his ears.

“Congratulations,” he said stiffly.

“You think I should take it?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” She stared at him. “Well, for one thing, I’ve put a lot of work into this place. For another, because we have a partnership. We’re working this claim together, remember?”

He kept his face immobile. “I would not hold you to that.”

“Are you that eager to leave?” she asked quietly. “You don’t want to stay with me?”

He took a half-step forward before coming to an abrupt halt. “Of course I want to stay with you, but this is a great opportunity for you.”

“Forget the damn opportunity. Do you really want to stay with me? Even though it means five years of work?”

“There is nothing I want more.”

She threw herself into his arms and his restraint vanished. He kissed her and as soon as her soft mouth opened to him, he was lost. Her body pressed against his and still he wanted her closer. He slid his cybernetic arm under her ass and lifted her higher into his arms. She immediately wrapped her legs around him, and he could feel the warmth of her cunt against his stomach. His enhanced senses swam with the dizzying scent of her arousal.

The hard points of her nipples pressed against his chest, but he wanted more. His hand slid under her shirt, then up to cup the small, perfect mound of her breast. She moaned and arched into his hand, the taut peak stabbing his palm. He squeezed gently and he could feel the heat between her legs increase. He let her drop back, trusting his arm to support her, so he could lower his mouth to her breast, sucking on the hard little nub through the fabric of her shirt. She reached up and for a terrible moment, he thought she was going to push him away, but instead she fumbled with her buttons.

He lifted his head long enough to rip the fabric away.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?”

“Oh, yes.”

The small red peak had stiffened even more as the damp flesh was exposed to the air and he couldn’t resist lowering his head again, working her nipple until she was writhing against him.

“Take me to bed, Morgan. Please.”

“You’re sure?”

Her eyes fluttered open, pupils dilated with excitement, but there was no hesitation in her response. “Yes, I want this. More than I’ve wanted anything for a very long time.”

He didn’t ask again. In seconds he had them both naked on the bed, but he slowed his heedless rush long enough to admire the long, slender lines of her body. Her rosy nipples were taut and swollen and the small patch of brown curls between her legs was damp with excitement. She blushed as he studied her, her hand rising to cover her breasts.

“Don’t hide from me, Hattie.” He gently moved her hand away. “You are beautiful.”

The fiery color returned to her cheeks, but she didn’t try and cover herself again. He started to caress her face, then realized he was using his cybernetic hand and hastily pulled it back. Her brows drew together but before she could question him, he kissed her until she was wiggling beneath him. Careful to use his human hand, he caressed her body, gradually working his way down until he could slide it between her legs. A wonderful slick heat met his touch and he gently urged her legs further apart, then lifted his head so that he could see the delicate pink folds glistening with excitement.

He gently traced the length of her slit and she shivered and clung to him when he swept a finger across the swollen pearl of her clit. He circled it again, barely able to believe that it was his hand touching her so intimately, then probed carefully at her small entrance. The tight channel clung to his finger as he slowly, carefully inserted it, and she cried out again.

“You’re very tight, sweetheart.”

“It’s been a long time.” Her eyes fluttered open again and she bit her lip. “My marriage was in name only.”

A feeling of triumph swept through him, although he did his best to keep his expression neutral. He knew she was meant to belong to him.

Her teeth worried her bottom lip. “Um, because of the circumstances of my marriage, I’m not on birth control.”

“Don’t worry. I can’t get you pregnant.”

Yet another thing that had been taken from him. His nanites rendered his sperm infertile. Despite his attempt to keep his voice neutral, some of his bitterness must have leaked out because she reached up and cupped his cheek.

“Mars probably isn’t the kind of place to raise kids anyway.”

The understanding in her eyes helped erase his anger.

“Then we can focus on more important things. I will take it very slowly,” he promised.

“You don’t need to. I’m not a virgin.”

“Slowly,” he repeated in a firm tone. He would not risk hurting her.

As he swept his thumb across her clit, her eyes fluttered shut again. He kissed her, a slow sensual kiss that had her limp and helpless in his arms, her channel loosening around his finger. Only then did he add a second, feeling her body strain to accept him as he gently, persistently entered her. When he added the third, her eyes flew open.

“Oh!”

“Too much?” he asked, starting to withdraw, but she put her hand over his, holding him in place as she wiggled experimentally.

“No. But I feel so full.”

His aching cock would fill her even more.

“Perhaps we should wait.”

“I said I’m fine. I want this, Morgan. I want you.”

The tight hold he had over his self-control began to weaken. He slid his fingers in and out, not quite so carefully, and increased his attention to her clit. She responded eagerly, whispering his name, and he could wait no longer. Over her protesting cry, he withdrew his hand, then notched his cock at her entrance. Slowly, he reminded himself as he started to push.

Oh my. She had thought he was stretching her before but now his cock began to enter her, larger still. Her body gradually opened for him, stretching almost to the point of pain but he moved so slowly that she could adjust to his size as he gradually impaled her. When he finally reached the end of her channel, she was quivering, her body damp with excitement and a hint of nerves.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Y-yes.”

“Let me help.”

He moved slightly and she fought to keep from wincing but then he swept his thumb across her swollen clit and the aching fullness turned to a shocking pleasure. She cried out and instinctively tried to tighten her muscles, but she was full, too full, and her pussy ached at the pressure, yet somehow that only added to her excitement and she rocketed back and forth between pleasure and the edge of pain. He remained motionless inside her, but his thumb moved faster, harder, adding to the loop of sensation until she tumbled over the edge, her vision sheeting to white as she convulsed helplessly in his arms.

She barely had time to catch her breath before he began to move, sending more shockwaves of pleasure through her system. A cool metal hand clasped her bottom, pulling her more tightly against him as the speed of his thrusts increased. She couldn’t move; she could only feel as he stroked harder, deeper, building her own excitement as he became more frantic, more forceful, his cock driving impossibly deeper until he shuddered and she felt the hot rush of seed filling her, sending her into a second shivering climax.

Chapter Ten

In the aftermath of the best sex she had ever had, Harriet curled against Morgan’s side and tried to sort out her feelings. Her body felt limp and satisfied—and perhaps the tiniest bit sore—but her mind couldn’t be still. Should she feel guilty, she wondered, to be moving on so soon?

No. If there was one thing her time with both her mother and Winthrop had taught her, it was to seize whatever moments of happiness she could. At least Morgan couldn’t be taken from her so easily. She reached across to lace her fingers through his metal hand, the visible sign of his strength and ability to survive. But when she touched his hand, he stiffened and started to pull away.

“What’s wrong?”

“You do not need to touch me there.”

“Why would I mind?” She tugged his hand to absolutely no effect until he sighed and let her pull it closer. Trying not to blush at her own boldness, she placed it over her breast. The cool metal made her shiver as he curved it around the soft flesh and her nipple tightened. “I enjoy your touch.”

“Hattie,” he groaned.

“Can you feel me?”

“Yes and no. My sensors pick up the warmth of your skin, the texture of your flesh.” He used his metal thumb and forefinger to enclose her nipple, applying a firm pressure that sent a spark of excitement down her spine. “They let me know that your nipple is getting harder, tighter.”

“Mm.” She tried to shift closer, seeking more of that cool, firm touch.

“I even like seeing my hand enclosing you, the contrast of metal against your soft, pale skin. But it is not the same.”

He pulled his hand away but before she had a chance to protest, he replaced it with his human hand, firm and warm against her skin. “I much prefer this.”

“That’s nice too,” she said breathlessly.

“Or even this.”

He replaced his hand with his mouth, the warm wetness shockingly erotic, and then he sucked hard and her whole body arched with the sensation. A cool metal finger probed between her legs, briefly circling her clit before slipping into her entrance. Despite the slickness easing his passage, she winced a little and he stopped immediately, lifting his head to study her face.

“You are sore?”

“It has been a very long time and you are… not small.”

He started to withdraw but she clutched his hand. “No, don’t stop. It’s only a little sore and you’ve got me all excited.”

“Do you want more?”

His metal thumb swept across her clit with exquisite delicacy and she tried to press against it, seeking more of the sensation.

“You must be still,” he warned, but there was a teasing look in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you accidentally.”

“I can do that.”

“Can you?” His twisted grin appeared, and he repeated the soft touch.

Her whole body quivered with the effort of not moving.

“Even if I do this at the same time?”

His mouth returned to her breast, pulling and tugging at her nipple with increasing urgency, and she buried her hands in the short dark strands of his hair, clutching him in a desperate effort to remain still. Sensations washed over her—the warm, wet pull of his mouth, the delicate sweep of his thumb across her swollen flesh, the cool metal stretching her channel, the slight ache only adding to the excitement. And then he scraped his teeth lightly across her taut peak at the same time as he pressed against her swollen clit and drove his finger deeper and she exploded, her body arching helplessly into his touch as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

When she finally opened her eyes, he was smiling down at her, his face softer than she’d ever seen it.

“That was wonderful.” She stretched lazily and his eyes darkened as he watched her move. She felt the heavy throb of his erection against her hip.

“What about you?”

“I can wait until your body has recovered.”

“But…”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. As long as I can hold you, I am content.”

He rolled to his back, tucking her under his arm and they lay together in peaceful silence as she pushed all of her worries out of her mind and just let herself enjoy being with him.

“I have errands to complete before nightfall,” he said finally.

“You’re leaving me?”

“Not willingly.” He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth that rapidly turned carnal, but he pulled away just as her body started melting into his. “But I will not take chances with your safety.”

She frowned up at him. “I don’t understand.”

“One of the things I picked up in town today was some security monitors. I’ll place them around the edges of your claim—”

“Our claim.”

“—our claim, so we will be alerted if anyone approaches.”

“Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“I’m not sure, but I would rather have them and not need them than need them and not have them.”

He shrugged and stood up and she lost focus on his words. So tall and strong, he looked invincible, the cybernetic arm just adding to the impression of strength. Her eyes traveled down over that big muscled body to the cock hanging heavily between his legs. Oh my, no wonder there was a pleasant ache between her legs. As she studied him, his cock started to stir.

“Hattie, if you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’ll never get out of here.”

“I don’t mind. We could spend all afternoon in bed…”

“You are a wicked temptress,” he said, shaking his head. “But as I was saying, I would feel better about your safety with the security system in place.”

“No one ever called me a wicked temptress before.” She smiled up at him and he bent over to kiss her again.

“You are very tempting.” He teased her nipple with a gentle finger. “And very wicked to keep me from my duties.”

“I suppose you’re right. I have duties of my own. But tonight…”

“Tonight, I am all yours.”

He kissed her again before pulling on his clothes and leaving. Was he really hers? The thought sent a thrill of happiness through her, even though she sternly reminded herself that it was just a partnership—with benefits. Still, the smile didn’t leave her face as she got dressed and went to check on her greenhouses.

They were just finishing their breakfast the next morning when a chime sounded. Morgan immediately tensed and pulled out a small monitor, then relaxed.

“It’s C-487, I mean Clint, and his female.”

“Is she human?”

“Yes. As far as I know, there aren’t any female cyborgs.”

Her immediate pleasure at the thought of spending some time with another woman was rapidly followed by concern.

“Do you think she’ll disapprove?”

Hurt flashed across his face. “Because I am a cyborg, you mean?”

“No, that wasn’t what I meant,” she said indignantly. “It’s just that my husband hasn’t been gone for very long. Everything has happened so fast.”

His shoulders remained tense. “There was no reason to wait. You needed assistance right away.”

Was that the only reason he was here, she wondered. His instinct to help a damsel in distress? After his passionate lovemaking, she found it hard to believe, but then again, her experience with men was so limited. Perhaps his passion was the norm and the lack of it in her other experiences was due to her own failings. They were both silent as they watched Clint and his female approach. Instead of using a rover, they were both astride Clint’s horse and she found herself envying the obvious intimacy between them. As if in response to her thoughts, Morgan stepped closer to her side as the couple dismounted.

Clint wasn’t quite as tall as Morgan, but he was powerfully built, with broad shoulders and rather disturbing red eyes partially concealed by dark sunglasses. He too was dressed in the faded black shirt and pants that all of the rangers wore, a tarnished star on his chest. Accompanying him was a very pretty and very petite woman with a mass of curly dark hair and sparkling brown eyes. Harriet immediately felt self-conscious and oversized, but the woman’s smile was so friendly that she couldn’t help but return it.

“Hi, I’m Jo! I’m so excited to meet another woman settler.”

“I’m thrilled to meet you too,” she said sincerely. There was a definite shortage of women on Mars and it was oddly reassuring to see another female face.

“I’m Hattie.” Morgan’s name for her came easily to her lips. She was no longer Harriet, worn down by grief. She was Hattie, pioneer on a new planet.

The two men exchanged greetings but got down to business immediately.

“Do you have a map?” Clint asked.

Morgan pulled up a holographic image of the planet’s surface and Clint narrowed it down to the area surrounding New Arcadia. The narrow canyon where the town was located expanded out onto a wide stretch of desert and he brushed his finger over the area. “This plain is reserved for future expansion once there is enough oxygen in the atmosphere to eliminate the need for a dome.”

He tapped on the area where their homestead was located, just to one side of the plain. “How did you pick this claim?”

“Pick?” She frowned at him. “Winthrop told me it had already been assigned to us.”

“I thought all of the homestead plots were available for claim by the first person to register them,” Jo said. “I had a map with all of the available plots laid out when I was looking.”

“Do you still have that?” Clint asked.

“It should be on my tablet.” Jo pulled out the small device and scrolled through it. “Yes, here it is.”

The men surveyed the image before Clint frowned at Hattie. “Your plot isn’t listed.”

“I don’t understand. Does that matter?”

“Perhaps. It would be interesting to know exactly how you ended up with it. Look.” Morgan pointed at the approximate location of their claim in the image. “We’re on the border of the expansion area but there are no other plots available for another mile.”

“Does that mean I can’t really claim the land?” Her worst fear was coming to life. She didn’t want to lose another home.

“No, I don’t think so. The claim was legally filed.” His eyes turned distant for a minute. “All of the documentation is in order. Which may be why Quilby offered to trade for the property once you added me as your partner.”

“But why?” she asked, looking at all of them. “I know it’s a good claim, but is it that much better than any other?”

Jo shook her head. “Not that I saw, and I saw a lot of plots.”

“So it’s the location?”

“That’s the only logical explanation,” Morgan said.

“But what’s so special about it?”

He studied the larger map again. “This is the town, then the claim. This is where the vandals disappeared. Do you notice anything?”

“It’s in a straight line,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“But there’s nothing past that area,” Jo protested. “Just the canyons and then the drop-off.”

“We should ride out there and take a look, Clint. See if we can find anything.”

Clint nodded, then turned to Jo. “Is that all right with you, Josephine?”

“Sure. Hattie and I will be fine.”

“The sensors are armed,” Morgan added. “We will know if anyone approaches.”

“That’s fine.” He still looked hesitant, so she laughed and patted his hand. “I promise we can take care of ourselves. And this is why you wanted Clint to come, right?”

“Yes. But I do not want to leave you.”

“Aw,” Jo said. “That’s so sweet.”

“I never want to leave you either, my love,” Clint said with a frown.

“I know.” The small woman stood up on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “And I always miss you when you’re gone. So the sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll be back.”

Emboldened by the other woman’s obvious affection for her cyborg, Hattie lightly brushed Morgan’s cheek with her lips. “I agree. Hurry back.”

“As fast as possible,” he promised.

Chapter Eleven

Hattie and Jo watched as the two cyborgs rode off across the plain on their mechanical horses.

“Did you ever read about cowboys when you were a kid?” Jo asked with a dreamy sigh.

“Not really. My tastes ran more to magical realms. But now I can see what I missed.”

“Real life is so much better.” Jo turned away from the window and gave Hattie a friendly smile. “So how did you end up with Morgan?”

“I needed a partner,” she said briefly, not sure how much she wanted to share with someone she had just met. When the other woman maintained an encouraging silence, she gave in. “I was married, you know.”

“You were? Oh yes, I remember now. A tall, thin man? I think I saw him on the ship. Was he ill?”

“Yes. He had a weak heart. He was coming back from a meeting when a dust storm came up. It must have been too much for him and he collapsed.”

“I’m so sorry. That must have been very hard on you.”

Jo’s sympathy took her by surprise and unexpected tears welled up. Everyone else had been so matter of fact about the whole thing.

“Thank you.” She sniffed and tried to regain her composure.

“And that’s why you needed a partner?”

“Exactly. This is a double plot and two people need to work the claim.”

“You don’t have to answer me, but is that all it is? A partnership? There seems to be more between you.”

She hesitated. “Do you disapprove?”

“Me? I’m in love with my cyborg, remember?” Jo smiled at her. “And Clint thinks that Morgan has feelings for you.”

“He does?” A warm glow spread over her.

“You seem to like the idea.”

“I do. I’ve started to care for him very much. When I asked if you disapproved, I didn’t mean about him being a cyborg but because it’s been such a short time since my husband’s death.”

“Did you love him?”

“I respected and admired him, but I didn’t love him,” she said honestly, before her hidden doubts erupted. “I don’t think he wanted me to love him, but what if I was wrong? What if he just didn’t know how to tell me?”

“You can’t force love.” Jo’s face turned cloudy. “I should know. I came here with someone else as well.”

“You had a husband?”

“No, a partner. But we had known each other for a long time, and I used to think I was in love with him. But no matter how much I loved him then, he never loved me back—although he could put on a good show when he wanted something.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jo shrugged. “Well, I guess we’re both older and wiser now.”

“I’m not sure that age really helps,” Hattie said dryly.

“Maybe not,” Jo laughed, then looked around the main room. “Your home is wonderful.”

“Would you like me to show you around?”

“I’d love that. Did I hear chickens when I entered?”

“Yes, I have a small flock.”

“I do too. Can I meet them?”

Hattie spent the next hour showing Jo around. To her relief, the other woman was nothing but enthusiastic and didn’t seem to envy the advanced state of her claim.

“This is wonderful. You’ve given me so many ideas about what to do next on our land.”

“Winthrop’s money and connections paid for a lot of this,” she confessed. “But I’m determined to make it on our own. To have a real—”

“—home,” Jo finished with her, and the two exchanged a smile. “I know exactly what you mean.”

M-231 let Clint lead the way as they approached the canyons, trusting the other male’s cybernetic eyes to follow the faint remnants of the tracks. Clint came to a halt when the ground turned rocky.

“Did you follow them any further?”

“I tried. I found some scuff marks and a few places where the rocks appeared to have been disturbed. Do you see anything?”

“I’m not sure,” Clint said slowly. “If anything, it appears that they may have turned in that direction.”

“Towards the escarpment? That doesn’t make sense.” The spur of rock jutting up to their left was far too steep for a rover to climb.

“I agree, but…” The other male shrugged. “I see traces of passage in that direction.”

“Then we should investigate. I trust your abilities.”

As they grew closer to the escarpment, the increased signs of traffic were visible even to him. “This almost looks like a road.”

“I agree. That last dust storm hasn’t obscured the tracks completely and this route has obviously been traveled by more than one vehicle.”

“But to where? There’s nothing out here and the tracks just seem to loop back towards the town.”

They both dismounted and walked along the rock face.

“Do you see anything?”

Clint tilted his head thoughtfully, then traced a crack running up the rock. “This troubles me. It appears to be more worn than the surrounding material.”

“Like someone has pried at it?”

“Yes. But again, why?”

“The only reason I can think of is if someone was testing the rock, but there haven’t been any reports of valuable minerals out here.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense to me either. Maybe we should follow the tracks leading back to town and see if they continue the entire way.”

The other man shrugged. “It’s as good a plan as any.”

As they rode back down the side of the valley, he looked towards the habitat, but they were in a slight dip and he couldn’t even see the top of the dome.

“Worried?” Clint asked.

“Yes. I don’t like this. Too many unanswered questions. I almost wish her husband was still alive so that I could question him.”

“Really?”

He laughed. “Perhaps not.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Clint called a halt. “Do you see that?”

“More tracks? But less worn?”

“Yes, and heading back towards your homestead, I think.”

Without further discussion, they turned to follow the faint path. As they crested the slight rise, he spotted a strange rover at the same time his monitor sounded.

“Can you see who’s in there?”

Clint stared at the machine, then nodded grimly. “It’s that bastard Quilby.”

“Fuck. I don’t want him bothering Hattie again.”

With one accord they spurred their horses on, blocking the rover close to the edge of the claim. An irritated Quilby climbed down out of the vehicle.

“What the hell are you doing stopping me? I have business with Mrs. Lewis.”

“She doesn’t want to see you. And she isn’t selling the claim.”

“Why the fuck should I listen to you, machine?” Quilby sneered.

“I may be a machine, but I am also her partner. And a legal representative of Earth Government. Do you want me to ask the Judge to decide if you’re trespassing?”

Quilby visibly paled behind his mask. S-756 has a way of inspiring fear in those inclined to bend the law.

“That’s not necessary,” he said quickly. “But she’s giving up a great opportunity. Three prime plots… Hell, my client might even go to four.”

“Who is your client?” Clint asked.

Quilby pulled his shoulders back indignantly. “That’s confidential.”

“Well, you can go and tell your confidential client that we are not moving. We are happy here,” he said firmly.

“Goddamn it. You’re going to regret that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you threatening an officer of the law?”

“No, I’m warning a goddamn machine who’s too big for his fucking britches.”

Clint took a step forward, but M-231 put a restraining hand on his arm.

“Just leave, Quilby. And don’t come back.”

With a venomous look, the man climbed back into his rover. He glared at them through the window and for a minute M-231 wondered if he would be foolish enough to try and run them down. Instead, Quilby swung the vehicle around with a spray of dirt and took off back towards town.

“Such a charming man,” Clint said dryly. “But I see what you mean. Why is he so fixated on your claim?”

“I wish I knew.”

By the time Clint and Morgan returned, Hattie and Jo had lunch waiting for them. The four of them sat down together and although Morgan had initially seemed distracted, he put aside whatever was troubling him, and they had a very pleasant meal. The other couple departed after lunch, with promises of a return visit in the near future, and she immediately turned to Morgan.

“What happened? Did you find anything?”

“Just more questions.” He pulled up the holographic map again. “There seems to be a track running down this side of the claim. It goes from the town to this back corner where the escarpment is located. Have you ever seen anyone along that route?”

“No, but then I don’t think I would. It’s quite a distance and if I remember correctly, the land dips down along that side.”

“It does.” He hesitated, then marked a path from the habitat over to the boundary line. “There is also a track along here. Is it possible that your… husband used that trail?”

“I suppose he might have, but he only left when he was meeting with GenCon. Why would they meet out there? And he was always gone for at least two days, sometimes more.”

Morgan frowned at her. “He left you alone for that long?”

“I don’t think he wanted to. He grew less and less happy about leaving, but he still went. And it was fine. Nothing ever happened before.”

“That reminds me. I intercepted Quilby. I told him that we were not trading the claim.”

“I’m glad you dealt with him so that I didn’t have to.” She shot him a curious glance. “How did he take it?”

“Not well. He said we would be sorry.”

A chill shot up her spine and she grabbed his arm, taking comfort in the strength of the metal beneath her touch. “You’ll be careful, won’t you? I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

“Always,” he promised. “I won’t let him harm you either.”

“He won’t harm me—he needs me to transfer the claim—but if he gets rid of you, he puts me back in the same position.”

“I’m not worried about him and you shouldn’t be either.”

“I’ll try not to worry.” She stroked his arm. “It makes me feel so much better to know that you can protect yourself.”

His face darkened and he pulled away. “I have chores to attend to. It’s my turn to plant lichen today.”

She bit her lip. “Will you be back for supper?”

“Yes,” he said shortly and disappeared through the airlock as she stared after him in dismay. Why was he so upset?

Although he was quieter than normal when he returned, he no longer looked quite so grim. Supper passed quietly and she was still conscious of an underlying tension between them when she announced she was going to take a bath. He looked up at her statement, his eyes growing heated.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked impulsively.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second and she was afraid that the distance would remain between them, but then his face relaxed as he lazily surveyed her body. “I would like that very much.”

Chapter Twelve

Morgan followed her into the garden room but didn’t immediately remove his clothes, instead watching her hungrily as she took off her shirt and pants. Her cheeks were on fire by the time she was down to her panties and bra.

“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?”

“I would rather watch you.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Why? Don’t you know how beautiful you are?”

“No,” she said frankly. “Most of the time I think I’m too tall and too thin.”

“You are the perfect height for me.” He stepped closer and put his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. She sighed and nestled closer. They did fit together perfectly.

“And you are definitely not too thin.” His hands closed over her butt and squeezed.

A choked laugh escaped as she shook her head at him. “I could take that to mean that I have a fat bottom.”

“Not fat, lush and round and soft…” He caressed her as he spoke, and she could feel her body responding.

“Have I told you that you’re very good for my ego?” she asked breathlessly.

“You did. And I told you that I only tell the truth.”

“That puts you ahead of most men.” His face started to stiffen again, and she could have bitten her tongue. Instead, she raised her hands to his shirt and began undoing the buttons. “But I would still feel better if you were naked too.”

To her relief, he let her continue to remove his clothes. She took her time, stroking her hands across each inch of skin as she revealed it. By the time she loosened his pants, his fully erect cock sprang free.

“Mm,” she purred, stroking the thick length.

“Now you are the one wearing too many clothes,” he murmured. A quick flick of his metal hand and her panties and bra went flying.

“Morgan,” she gasped, her nipples tight and throbbing in the warm air.

“I will wash you,” he announced, and without needing any additional instructions from her, removed the lid of the tub and ladled out the warm water to pour over her.

He took his time, attending to every part of her body with gentle thoroughness and she completely forgot her self-consciousness in the pleasure of his touch. A slow persistent ache began between her legs but when she reached for him, he lifted her into the tub instead. He washed himself much more quickly, then joined her, sitting next to her on the bench and pulling her against his body, his metal arm the same soothing temperature as the water.

Her clit still demanded satisfaction but being in his arms in the steaming water had a pleasure all its own.

“How did you know?” she asked idly, and his body stiffened.

“Know what?”

“To bathe outside the tub.”

“I assume it is so the hot water can be reused,” he said slowly.

“That’s right. It reduces consumption and saves wear and tear on the filters. I’m impressed.”

His body tensed before he finally spoke. “Hattie, I have a confession.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What is it?” she asked as steadily as she could, praying her voice wouldn’t shake.

“I watched you. That first night, I saw you in here. I didn’t mean to watch but I couldn’t look away. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.”

“Oh.” A strange mixture of embarrassment and pleasure ran through her. He had been out there in the dark watching her? Rather shockingly, a little pulse of excitement traveled to her clit at the thought.

“I don’t think I mind, as long as you’re the one watching me. I trust you,” she whispered.

“No one else will ever see you,” he promised. “You’re not angry?”

“You make it hard to be angry at you when you’re so complimentary.”

“I’m glad. It has been weighing on my conscience.”

She turned to face him, brushing the short dark strands of his hair away from his face. “You’re a good man, Morgan.”

His body tensed again. “Is that how you think of me? As a man?”

“Why, yes. Shouldn’t I?”

“You seem… glad that I am a cyborg.”

“I suppose I am.” He jerked his head away and she gently turned his face back in her direction. “Is that why you were upset earlier?”

“I did not choose to be this way.”

“I’m truly sorry about that. I hope you know that I would never want your choices to be taken away. It’s just…”

His face softened. “What is it, Hattie?”

“I have had a lot of loss in my life. Illness took my mother and Winthrop. I feel… safer caring about you because I know that you’re strong.”

“You care about me?”

“Well, of course.” Her cheeks flamed and it was her turn to look away.

“I care for you too. Very much.”

Startled, she looked back to find him smiling at her, his eyes soft. An answering smile crossed her own face and time seemed to stand still as they looked at each other. Steam drifted up from the water and the scent of living things surrounded them. Outside, the frigid Martian winds swirled, but inside they were safe and warm and together.

Morgan gently tugged her closer and she went willingly, tucking her head into his neck. He began stroking her hair, following it down her body to where it curled over her breasts. With exquisite slowness, he moved to the soft mounds of flesh, barely brushing them as he circled in to where her nipples stood at attention, waiting for his touch. He lightly flicked his finger across each stiff peak, and she gasped, the slight touch sending a ripple of excitement down to her throbbing clit. She tried to arch into his touch, but he kept it teasingly light.

“You’re a tease.”

“No, sweetheart. I just want to take my time. You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Maybe you could worship a little faster,” she suggested, and he laughed, tightening his hand for one glorious moment before he drew it away.

“Do that again,” she demanded, then blushed at her boldness.

“Why do you do that?” he asked, cupping her cheek. “Are you embarrassed to ask for what you want?”

“I’m not used to it.”

“Because you were always helping others.”

She shrugged and tried to change the subject. “It’s not important.”

“Yes, it is. You can always tell me what you want. For example, do you like it when I do this?” He rolled a taut nipple between his thumb and finger, applying a firm, gentle pressure that made her squirm with excitement.

“Oh, yes.”

“Do you like it softer?” He lightened his touch to the teasing brush he had used before. “Or harder?” This time, he tightened it, squeezing almost to the point of pain, but the pressure sent a streak of lightning to her clit.

“Both!”

“Or perhaps this?”

His head disappeared beneath the water and then she felt his mouth on her breast, even hotter than the water as it closed over her nipple, licking and tugging the taut flesh. Her hand instinctively went to the back of his head, holding him in place as she pressed against his mouth, seeking more of the exquisite sensation. He went from one breast to the other, driving her excitement ever higher until she suddenly realized how long he had been under water. With a startled cry, she tugged him to the surface.

“You can’t breathe under there.”

“I don’t need to breathe.” He grinned at her. “My system pulls the small amount of oxygen I need from the water. It is the same enhancement that allows me to travel the Martian surface without a breathing mask, but a much more pleasurable one.”

It was the first time she had seen him so at ease with one of his differences.

“That’s amazing.”

He shrugged. “It’s part of being a cyborg, but right now, one I am very grateful for. It means I don’t have to surface again until you come.”

“What?”

His head disappeared beneath the water again, but this time he didn’t stop at her breasts. He moved lower, parting her legs with effortless strength before she felt his mouth close over her clit. Oh my god. The rough slick warmth of his tongue brushed across the exposed surface, hard and ready from his teasing, and she exploded. A wordless cry escaped into the steamy room as her empty pussy convulsed. A moment later, a thick metal finger penetrated her channel and her body clamped down, seeking to prolong the pleasure.

As her convulsions slowed, she expected him to resurface. Instead, his tongue began circling her clit with the same teasing touch he had used on her breasts. At first the gentle touch suited her oversensitive flesh but as her excitement built again, she wanted more. Remembering his words, she took a deep breath and urged him on.

“Harder, Morgan. Please!”

He responded to her demand with gratifying eagerness, lashing his tongue across her swollen flesh. His finger began to plunge in and out, slowly at first, then faster as her passage grew even slicker. Her body tensed, once more on the verge of climax, and then his finger began to vibrate as he pressed against her channel from the inside, echoing the movement of his tongue, and sending electric thrills of pleasure through her system, overwhelming her with sensation until she climaxed in a surge of bliss, arching against him with a helpless cry.

This time, he didn’t wait for her convulsions to die down. Before she could even process what he was doing, he lifted and turned her so that she was kneeling on the seat and bent over the edge of the tub. A second later, he parted her legs and drove into her with a long hard plunge that sent her shuddering into another climax. He didn’t pause, clasping her hips firmly as he thrust again and again, reaching so far inside her she felt as if they were one being.

“This is what I wanted,” he growled. “As I stood outside in the cold and dark and watched you. I wanted to bend you over, to take you, to make you helpless with pleasure.”

As he spoke, he adjusted his grip so that every thrust rubbed against her clit. Unable to move, all she could do was cling to the side of the tub and take him as his pace increased, his grip firm and unrelenting as he plunged impossibly deeper. He adjusted his grip again and his thumb brushed her bottom hole, sending an unexpected rush of excitement to her overloaded system and then she was coming again in a wave of helpless pleasure as he thrust one last time and buried himself in her, seeming to swell even larger as the hot rush of liquid filled her.

M-231 found himself gasping for the breath he didn’t need as he collapsed down over Hattie, his body’s instinctive reaction to the pleasure that left him limp and drained. As his nanites rushed into action, automatically lowering his pulse and adjusting his breathing, he was filled with a deep contentment until he reluctantly pulled back and saw the red mark on her hip where his human hand had gripped her too tightly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?” Her voice sounded dazed and he anxiously turned her around in his arms. She smiled up at him beneath heavy eyes. “That was amazing. Do you have any more fantasies?”

“A few,” he said with a relieved smile. “But I will take better care of you next time.”

“If you take any better care of me, I might die from pleasure,” she said. “What are you worried about?”

“I left a mark.” He brushed his hand gently over the reddened patch.

“I consider it a badge of honor.” She eyed him speculatively. “I suppose if I marked you it would disappear immediately?”

“Probably. My nanites are very efficient at repairing damage.”

“Good. I don’t want you damaged. I’m also a fan of their ability to let you breathe underwater.” Although she blushed a little, she didn’t look away from him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Enjoyed? I enjoyed it so much I’m exhausted.” A wide yawn split her face.

“We’ll see about that.”

He lifted her out of the tub, dried her off, and carried her to bed where he proceeded to prove to her that she was nowhere near as exhausted as she thought.

Chapter Thirteen

Despite M-231’s concerns about the vandalism and Quilby’s threats, the next week passed peacefully. He patrolled twice and once was called upon to settle a dispute between two miners. Although he hated leaving Hattie, he always returned in time to help with the endless tasks involved in maintaining and improving the homestead. He came back one day to find her contemplating the peppers growing in one of the greenhouses.

“You have a very serious look on your face,” he said, walking up behind her to drop a kiss on her neck in the exact place that made her shiver.

“I’m considering my options, although you’re making it hard to concentrate.”

“Maybe you need to take a break.” He curled his arm around her and cupped a breast, gently tweaking her nipple.

She leaned into his touch for a moment, then sighed and pulled his arm down to her waist. “I would love to take a break, but these are ripe. Since our storehouse is pretty full, what would you think about taking a load of produce to sell in town?”

“If you’re comfortable with what we have put aside, I’m sure there would be a market for it. I know there are plans to set up a town market but most of the settlers aren’t producing enough to trade yet.”

“Do you think that’s a problem?”

“On the contrary. Almost everyone in town is still using the processed food shipments. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have some fresh vegetables.”

“Good.” She tilted her head back and grinned up at him. “This will be our first official sale. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Not as exciting as you.” He slid his hand underneath her shirt, relishing the silky softness.

“Harvest first,” she said firmly, even though he could scent her arousal. “Then we play.”

“This is going to be the fastest harvest on record,” he promised as he picked up a container. She laughed and joined him.

The next morning, they loaded several bushels of produce into the rover. They didn’t need the larger transport wagon yet, although that would come as the size and variety of their harvest increased. After an internal debate with himself, he left Ghost behind and rode with Hattie in the rover. He didn’t need the enclosed cabin with its oxygen supply, but he enjoyed the intimacy of being with her in the small space.

When they entered the first saloon, the room went silent as everyone turned to look at them. Ignoring the stares, he led Hattie over to where the owner stood behind the bar.

“This is Stogar,” he said. “Stogar, this is Mrs. Lewis.”

The man grunted.

“Hi.” Hattie gave him a friendly smile. “I was wondering if you were interested in purchasing any fresh vegetables.”

Stogar barely looked up from polishing a glass. “Ain’t got no credits to spare.”

“Oh.” Her smile dimmed a little and he wanted to snatch the man across the counter. “What about trade then? Is there anything you want to trade?”

“Nope. Not interested.” He briefly raised his head and M-231 could have sworn a sympathetic look crossed his face before he shook his head. “Won’t be interested later either. Can’t be,” he added in a quiet voice.

“Well, thank you anyway. If you change your mind, let me know.”

Head held high, Hattie led the way out of the saloon. “That was odd, wasn’t it? He didn’t even seem to want to listen to me.”

“Very odd,” he agreed grimly.

They met the same response at the next two places they tried, and Hattie completely lost her smile.

“I don’t understand. You’d think they’d be ready for a change of food by now.” She scowled thoughtfully for a moment. “I know. Let’s go see Cherry.”

“The madam?” He couldn’t conceal his shock.

“I don’t like that word.”

“She runs a whorehouse.”

She frowned at him. “She runs a respectable brothel. Her girls are there by choice and she doesn’t stand for any nonsense.”

“How do you know that?”

“Winthrop had a spell right after we arrived, and I was trying to find help. It was the middle of the night and everywhere else was closed. She helped me contact the doctor and stayed with me all night. I’ve visited her a few times since then when I had the chance.”

He shook his head, still stunned at the idea of his Hattie in a whorehouse. “You don’t belong in a place like that.”

“If anyone knows what’s going on, she will. And besides, she serves food as well. Come on.”

She marched up the street and he reluctantly accompanied her. To his relief, she didn’t go charging through the gaudily painted front doors to the whorehouse but walked around back to a neat little prefab unit behind the main building and knocked.

“Cherry, are you home?”

“Coming.”

When the door opened, he had to look twice to recognize the woman. He was used to seeing her around town in bright, provocative clothing with elaborate hair and makeup. This woman was simply dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, her hair in a single silvery braid, with no trace of makeup. She looked just as respectable as Hattie.

“Harriet, my dear, what an unexpected pleasure.” Her voice was the same, low and husky, with the promise of pleasure. “Ranger. I heard you had moved out of town.”

“He’s my partner,” Hattie said quickly.

Cherry raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what the local gossips are saying. But come in, both of you, and tell me all about it.”

“What are the gossips saying?” Hattie’s brow wrinkled as they followed Cherry inside, and he fought back his instinctive flare of anger.

“Oh, the usual.” Cherry waved a graceful hand as she led them into a small, uncluttered living area in soothing tones of pale blue and white. “There seems to be a divide between the ones who think you killed off your husband so you could jump in bed with a cyborg and those who think the ranger seduced you with his evil ways.”

“But that’s not true!” Hattie cried, and he forgot his own anger in the face of her distress. He put a comforting arm around her waist, and she leaned into him.

“Of course it isn’t,” Cherry assured her. “And that dear little Mr. Smith has repeatedly told them about the situation with your claim.” Her eyes went to his arm and she smiled. “Although perhaps it’s just as well they aren’t here now.”

“It is a partnership,” Hattie insisted, and he started to pull away, but she put her hand over his. “But we… care for each other as well.”

“Excellent. You both deserve some happiness.”

“Your establishment is not as accepting of cyborgs,” he said bitterly, and Hattie gave him a startled look.

“You’ve been there?”

“No, it never appealed to me.” He almost smiled at her quick sigh of relief, but he focused on the other woman. “But I know cyborgs are turned away, unless they are there on official business.”

“You can’t change people’s perceptions overnight,” Cherry said. “They come here with their heads filled with Earth Government propaganda and it takes them a while to realize that you’re just doing a job. Keeping the cyborgs out prevents drunken idiots from picking a fight to prove that they’re as tough as you are. By the time they realize they’re not, I’ve lost a customer and I’m paying for damages. Besides,” she winked at him, “I know that some of my girls are more… friendly on their own time.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgment, then added quickly, “Not that I have any personal experience in that regard.”

“Of course not.” Cherry still looked amused as she turned to Hattie. “So what brings the two of you here? I’m delighted to see you, but I suspect this isn’t a social call.”

“We came to town to sell some of our excess produce,” Hattie explained.

“You have enough to sell already? That’s marvelous.”

“Not so marvelous. No one seems willing to buy.”

Cherry frowned and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I wonder…”

They waited for her to continue, but she jumped gracefully to her feet instead. “Let me check on something. I’ll be right back.”

“She is not what I expected,” he said after she disappeared.

“Part of me is really glad that you don’t know her well.” Hattie eyed him curiously. “I take it you weren’t one of those who secretly visited her girls?”

“I haven’t been with anyone since I became a cyborg.” Even after he began to accept his changes, he hadn’t been willing to face the inevitable disgust in the eyes of a woman. He shrugged. “After a while, it doesn’t really matter. Or it didn’t until I met you.”

“What changed?”

“I saw you. It was the first day you arrived on Mars. When you came into the terminal, I knew you were the one for me. But then I saw that you were not alone.”

“I noticed you too,” she confessed.

“Because I’m a cyborg?”

“No, Morgan. Because you’re tall and handsome and sexy.” She sighed. “You need to get this chip off your shoulder.” She brushed lightly at the seam where his cybernetic arm joined the rest of his body.

“My arm will always be there.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make you any less of a person. Why do you struggle so much with this?”

“I think because of the way it happened.” For a moment, he flashed back to that alley, the scent of rotten food filling his nostrils.

“Maybe it would help to talk about it?”

Before he could respond, Cherry reappeared, and he greeted her with a sudden sense of relief. He wasn’t at all sure he was ready to discuss his past with Hattie.

“That bastard,” Cherry said by way of greeting.

“Who?” he asked.

“Quilby, of course. Although he says he’s only acting on behalf of GenCon.”

He frowned at her. “What does he, or they, have to do with selling vegetables?”

“You know how most of the businesses and their owners were sponsored by GenCon?”

“I didn’t know that,” Hattie said.

“I did,” he said grimly. “As soon as we completed the initial terraforming, they won the contract to build and man the power plants and the atmosphere generators. That contract was expanded into managing New Arcadia. They built the dome and administered the facilities, but they also started bringing in entrepreneurs to provide entertainment for the workers.”

“They don’t own everything,” Cherry added. “The hotel, the transient quarters for the settlers, the Claims Office, all of the official building belong to Earth Government.” She grinned at them. “And my little establishment.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Earth Government sponsored a brothel?”

“I believe they thought that a little… relaxation would cut down on the need for your services, Ranger.”

“You may be right. But what has this got to do with Quilby?”

Cherry’s smile disappeared. “He has informed anyone who is sponsored by GenCon not to trade with you, under penalty of losing their establishment.”

“Can they do that?” Hattie asked.

“Perhaps not directly, but they control the power and water supplies to each building. They also supply most of the businesses with the food and alcohol they sell. It’s supposed to be a temporary arrangement until the town becomes more independent, but…”

“But that means I’ll never be able to sell my produce.”

He forced down his own anger in the face of her distress. “Not necessarily. Cherry, you said you were willing to buy, right?”

“Of course. I don’t owe anything to GenCon. Clarkson runs the restaurant at the hotel and I’m sure he’d be happy to buy some fresh produce. Akim at the transient quarters probably will as well, but with five or six months between settlement ships, there won’t be a big demand.”

“The settlers!” Hattie’s eyes lit up. “I know I’m a little ahead of most of the settlers, but Jo said even her hydroponic garden produces more than she needs. She’s been composting the excess but maybe she would rather sell it instead? And I can’t imagine she’s the only one with something to sell or trade. I know there were plans for a market. Maybe now is a good time to get it started.”

“There’s land allocated for it,” he agreed. “And it belongs to Earth Government so GenCon can’t stop us from using it.”

“Start with a bi-weekly market,” Cherry suggested. “I’ll spread the word to my customers. They can’t spend all their money on booze and girls.”

“I can pass along the information while I’m on patrol and ask the other rangers to do the same.”

“When should we have the first one?” Hattie was practically bouncing with excitement.

“A week from Saturday?” he suggested. “That will give us time to let everyone know. Maybe we could set up some stalls?”

“You leave that one to me,” Cherry said. “I’ve got a line on some materials. I’ll keep the rent modest.”

He shook his head. “You are quite a businesswoman.”

A shadow crossed her face. “We all do what we need to in order to survive. But your stall will be free. Fuck Quilby and GenCon.”

“Hear, hear!”

Chapter Fourteen

The day of the market, Hattie woke early, full of excitement. Morgan tried to pull her back into bed, but she was too excited to remain still and jumped up.

“You know, I have a better suggestion for all that energy you’re burning,” he said lazily, watching appreciatively as she dressed.

“Then I won’t have any energy left. You’re too good at wearing me out.” She bent over and kissed him but danced away from his hands. “I want to pick the lettuce this morning so it’s as fresh as possible.”

They had loaded most of their goods onto the wagon the previous night, but she had waited for this morning to harvest the most delicate items.

“All right. I’ll come help you.”

He stood up and despite her excitement, she lingered a moment longer to run her eyes down his body. She never tired of seeing all that hard, naked muscle. His cock twitched.

“Unless you want to be late, you’d better stop looking at me like that.” His voice was a husky growl and she felt her nipples tighten.

“Hm. Market or man?” She mimed a pair of scales. “Tough decision.”

For once he didn’t flinch when she called him a man and only returned her smile. “I hope it isn’t that tough.”

“Oh, you win out every time, but this is about our future. Can you hold that thought?”

He reached down and grabbed his shaft, giving it a slow tug. “For how long?”

“You’re such a tease. But two can play at that game.” Driven by a wicked impulse, she bent down and swiped her tongue across the head of his cock. Mm. She licked him again, more slowly this time, enjoying his taste and the way he responded to her touch.

“Sweetheart, as much as it pains me, you’re right. The market is about our future.” He brought her head up and smiled at her. “But we will definitely return to this later.”

Reaching down, she caressed him one more time before dancing out of reach. “Tonight.”

By the time they reached the market, a number of other settlers were already setting up and an air of suppressed excitement hung over the dusty ground. True to her word, Cherry had erected a number of stalls in varying sizes and was doing a brisk business renting them out, but people were setting up on everything from stacks of plastic containers to blown-out rover tires. Cherry had saved one of the largest stalls for them and the two of them began unloading the wagon.

“Do you really think this will sell?” Morgan asked doubtfully as he lifted out several crates of chicken manure.

“Absolutely. It’s great for improving the soil, or if you’re still dealing in hydroponics, it can be added to the water to improve the nutrient content.”

“You’re very knowledgeable, my Hattie.”

“I’ve been studying this since I knew we were coming.” She scanned the surrounding stalls. “But I’m really surprised at the variety. I know they provided the settlers with lots of options so we could see what would grow best but there are a lot more products than I expected. We should watch and see what sells the best.”

The noise level increased as more people flooded in. She began to suspect that every settler from the homestead ship was present, but perhaps that made sense. This was probably the first break most of them had taken from their claims. Several of them eyed Morgan suspiciously but after he helped one man to unload sacks of soil and fixed a rocky cart for another, they began to relax. One of the bar owners dragged over a keg and began serving cups of beer.

“I told you,” Morgan said in her ear. “Alcohol always sells.”

She watched one man take a drink and grimace, but he still paid for a second cup. “Is it that bad?”

“Yep. It’s reconstituted from freeze-dried beer and mixed with raw alcohol. Do you want to try it?”

“Maybe. Just to see what the competition is like.”

“The competition?”

“You mentioned setting up a brewery.” She tapped a thoughtful finger against her chin. “I wonder what it would take to make a decent tasting beer?”

“Woman, you never cease to amaze me.”

He took a step towards her just as a loud clang sounded. She looked over to see an older man knocking two pieces of steel together. He didn’t bear any outward signs of being a cyborg but judging from his size and the faded black uniform, he was one of the rangers. When he spoke, his low, rumbling voice conveyed an unmistakable authority.

“Just a couple of things. In order to give everyone a chance to return to their claims in daylight, I’m closing you down at two o’clock—unless you sell out of everything before then.”

“I hope so!” someone yelled, and a muttered laugh ran through the crowd.

The man waited for silence. “I don’t want any trouble. You got an argument, you get one of my rangers to settle it.” His voice turned cold. “Or I’ll settle it and trust me when I say you don’t want that.”

Hattie shivered and she noticed that most of the men around her looked nervous. She also realized a number of rangers were spread throughout the gathering.

“I hereby declare this market open.”

He banged the steel together again and someone let out a cheer.

“Who’s that?” she whispered to Morgan.

“S-756. He’s the Territory Judge—and my boss.”

“He’s kind of… intimidating.”

“You have no idea.”

“How much for those mushrooms?” a voice interjected, and then there was no more time for talk.

Jo and Clint appeared a few minutes later and Hattie made room for Jo’s small selection.

“Are those herbs?” Hattie asked in delight.

“Yes. We don’t have a lot of variety in our food yet, so I thought some flavorings would help. They grow fast and don’t take up a lot of space.”

“I want one of all of them and I’m sure I’m not the only one. How much are you selling them for?”

“Two credits a bundle? Do you think that’s too much?”

“I think you should make it ten.”

“Listen to her, Jo. She knows what she’s doing,” Morgan called from the front of the stall. He was handling the sales while she talked to Jo, but he didn’t seem to be enjoying it, although he grinned at her when the chicken manure was among the first to go.

“Do you really think so?”

“Yes. And I’m still buying one of everything.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m happy to give them to you.”

“Nonsense. You have to think like a businesswoman.” She grinned at her friend. “But I will take first pick.”

Putting aside her selection, she helped Jo arrange the herbs. The traffic to their stall kept growing but with Jo to help, she released Morgan from his duties. He left Clint to watch over them while he made a circuit of the market.

“How’s the competition?” she asked when he returned.

“Surprising. Although there’s too much lettuce.”

“I was afraid of that. It’s too easy to grow.”

“You have the widest variety, but root vegetables are doing well, and you don’t have any of those.”

“Maybe I should take part of the soil farm and plant some,” she said thoughtfully, and he laughed.

“I thought you might like the idea. I bought a bushel of seed potatoes.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped circle. “And this.”

“What is it?”

“Try it.”

She unwrapped it to reveal a flat brown crumbly object and after a suspicious glance at him, took a small bite. Sweetness exploded across her tongue. “It’s a cookie!”

“An enterprising settler has figured out how to bake under these conditions. He said he had experience cooking at high altitude.”

“This is amazing. Do you want some?”

“No, you finish it. It’s the last one.”

Popping the last sweet crumb into her mouth, she grinned up at him. “I wish him the best of luck.”

“You don’t want to start a bakery now?” he teased.

“Definitely not. I wasn’t any good at it on Earth and I have no desire to learn up here.” A thought struck her. “But I wonder what raw materials he’s using? Maybe we could work out a trade.”

“That busy little mind never stops spinning, does it?”

“I’m afraid not. I just want this so badly. I want the claim to succeed and turn a profit. I want us to have a home that no one will ever take away from us.”

“Us?” he asked, studying her face, his own unreadable, and she flushed as she realized what she had said.

“Yes. That is… I know I only asked for five years, but I want you to stay.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she looked up at him. Before he could respond, Clint joined them.

“Might be trouble,” he said quietly. “See that group of men over there?” He gestured towards a large crowd gathered around the beer keg. “The big ones in the coveralls look like the same ones that tried to start a riot the day the claims opened.”

“Stay with the women,” Morgan ordered. “I’ll let the others know.”

He gave her a quick kiss and disappeared before she could protest. She caught a glimpse of his hat moving through the crowd. Most of the goods had been sold—her own stall had nothing left—but the settlers still wandered around, talking and socializing. She watched anxiously as the crowd by the makeshift bar grew louder and more boisterous. Black shirts began to appear at the edge of the group but there were so few of them in comparison.

“Maybe you should go join him, Clint,” she suggested, putting her hand on her gun. “We’ll be fine.”

“Not gonna happen,” he said shortly, tucking Jo under his arm. “He’ll do his job better if he’s not distracted worrying about you.”

“I can take care of myself,” she protested.

Jo laughed. “That’s what I always say but I don’t think he’s capable of hearing it.”

A loud yell came from the crowd, then it suddenly exploded, fists flying everywhere. She winced in sympathy as she saw a man’s head snap back from a hard blow.

“I don’t like this,” Clint muttered.

Her head bobbed in emphatic agreement. “Me either.”

“It’s not the fighting. Watch those men.”

Two men in overalls had emerged from the edge of the crowd. They were pushing each other but didn’t seem to put any real force behind it until they reached an abandoned stall. The first man aimed a kick at the second, but he ducked out of the way so that the kick hit the stall straight on. The side of the stall rocked, and the man followed it with another kick. A second later, the small building began to fall.

“He did that on purpose!” she gasped.

“He did. They’re trying to destroy the market,” Clint said grimly.

Even as he spoke, the second man stomped on the wreckage, sending vegetables flying. Clint whistled for backup but the other rangers were too busy subduing the original fight. More men came to join the first two.

Clint looked from them to the two women, clearly torn. “I know I promised to stay with you, but I have to put a stop to this. You two stay right here. Duck down behind the counter. I’ll try and keep watch but if any of them come near you, shoot.”

“I will,” she said firmly, despite the nerves crawling up her stomach. She was a good shot, but targets were quite different than people.

He looked down at Jo and cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, Josephine.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just stop them,” she urged.

With a quick kiss, he took off across the market with startling speed. He whistled again as he ran, and she saw Morgan emerge from the fighting crowd. His hat was askew and there was blood on his knuckles, but he grinned fiercely as he ran to Clint’s side. The two of them laid into the gang of men who had now stopped all pretense of fighting and were systematically working at destroying the market. Bodies went flying with astonishing ease.

“That’s amazing,” she whispered to Jo from their position crouched behind the stall.

“I know. He did the same thing when we met. I’m so used to being with him that it’s easy to forget just how powerful he is.”

Jo’s words raised an unpleasant memory. “Quilby said that they were all killers.”

“I don’t believe it. I’ve never seen Clint harm anyone—who didn’t deserve it, that is.”

Two of the men broke off from the rest and headed for their position. Her stomach rolled again. “They’re coming this way.”

“I know.” Jo’s voice shook, but she stood up next to her. Both women drew their guns but before the men reached them, a cyborg raced past, moving so quickly he was almost a blur. He grabbed the men’s heads and slammed them together with a sickening sound, then let them fall carelessly to the ground. When he turned to face them, she realized it was the older male who had opened the market.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

“We’re fine. Thank—”

Before she could finish, he was moving over to assist Clint and Morgan. They had eliminated most of the vandals, but Morgan looked up as the older male approached, his eyes immediately searching for Hattie. She lifted a hand to give him a reassuring wave but as she did, one last combatant staggered out of a partially destroyed stall and swung a steel pole at Morgan’s head. The crack echoed across the open ground and Morgan dropped like a stone.

Chapter Fifteen

M-231 swam back to consciousness slowly, the smell of blood and produce filling his nostrils. For a long horrible moment, he was back in the alley.

“No, don’t take me!” he cried, flinging his arm wide.

But he didn’t hit an armored soldier. Instead, he connected with a soft body and heard a small feminine grunt. His memories came rushing back and he tried to sit up.

“Hattie!”

Hard hands held him down. “She’s right here. She was just fine until you got hold of her.”

He turned his head frantically, searching for her. She was on her knees a few feet away, clutching her stomach, but she managed a weak smile.

“Oh, God… I’m so sorry, Hattie.”

“Accident,” she gasped, her voice shaky. Jo knelt next to her, with Clint looming over both women.

“You should know better, boy.” S-756 glared down at him. “You in control now?”

He ran a quick system check. His nanites were repairing the damage to his skull and the rest of his system was recovering. “I’m fine. Is the fight over?”

“Yep.” S-756 scowled at the surrounding mayhem. “I’m putting most of these bastards in jail. Think I’m too stupid to recognize a put-up job, do they?”

“What?” Maybe he wasn’t recovering as well as he thought.

“That’s why I whistled for you,” Clint said. “They weren’t fighting; they were destroying the stalls. My bet is that they wanted to prevent another market day.”

“Fucking GenCon,” a new voice interrupted.

He looked up to see Madam Cherry, fully decked out. Her silky green dress had a high neck and long sleeves, but it clung to every inch of her curves. Her hair was piled in an elaborate arrangement on top of her head, her eyes were lined with black, and her lips gleamed bright red. It was hard to reconcile her with the woman he met previously.

“Are you all right, my dear?” She knelt down next to Hattie, her dress stretching perilously, but he was more worried about his woman. Hattie still looked pale and shaken but she managed to nod.

“I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

He shook off the last of his stupor and went to assist her. His chest ached when she visibly hesitated before putting her hand in his and letting him lift her to her feet. Fuck. What had he done?

Her knees wobbled but she let him hold her up as she looked around. “What a mess. Do you think this will be the end of the market?”

“Not at all,” Madam Cherry said reassuringly. “I think it was a great success and by the time the next one rolls around, everyone will be bragging about how well they fought. Even if all they did was hide behind a stall.”

“And I intend to make it quite clear that I will not put up with this type of nonsense,” S-756 growled.

“That’s a relief anyway.” Hattie swayed and he couldn’t restrain himself, lifting her into his arms.

He felt her flinch away from him, but he ignored it. “Maybe we should see the doctor before we go.”

“No!” she cried. “I hate doctors. Just take me ho—back to the claim.”

“Go on, boy. I’ll clean up here. Fucking worthless humans. Err, present company excepted.”

“Thank you,” Hattie said softly. “I appreciate you stopping those men. I really didn’t want to shoot anyone.”

Someone had tried to attack her, and he hadn’t been there to prevent it? His list of failures continued to grow. What a fool he had been to think they had a future together. No doubt she was already deciding how to retract her offer to let him stay with her.

“I can stay and help,” Clint offered.

Jo poked him. “As long as we’re home in time to do the chores.”

He grinned at her. “Sorry, I haven’t quite adapted to being a homesteader yet.”

S-756 snorted. “Hope you’re a better homesteader than you are a ranger. Gallivanting off to play with plants when you should be patrolling.”

“I haven’t neglected my duties.” Clint scowled at him.

“You’re doing all right, I reckon, but your heart isn’t in it anymore. Either of you.” With a final glare, S-756 stalked off.

“What a charming man,” Madam Cherry said dryly.

“I heard he had a difficult past,” M-231 felt compelled to add.

“Haven’t we all?” she muttered, then turned and smiled at them. “Ranger, take that poor child home before she faints. Josephine, would you like to have tea with me while your man does ranger things?”

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Don’t worry, Ranger,” Madam Cherry told Clint, pointing to a huge man standing silently behind her. “Bull may not be a ranger, but he is quite capable of watching over us until you come get her.”

The small group dispersed and M-231 carried a curiously silent Hattie back to their wagon. Fortunately, he had already packed up most of the items for which they had traded before the fight started.

“Are you all right? Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?”

“No. I just want to go back to the claim,” she said quietly before she turned to stare out the window.

As Morgan drove the wagon home with silent efficiency, Hattie stared out across the Martian landscape and tried to sort out her feelings. The day had been so pleasant before the fight, and even when those men had headed for them, she barely had time to get scared before the big cyborg had knocked them out. But when Morgan went down, her world had shattered. She’d thought she lost him. Another person she cared about taken from her. More than cared about, she’d realized when he collapsed. She loved him. But the knowledge didn’t bring her joy, just an aching uncertainty.

What if she lost him too? Even though he had recovered quickly, she would never forget the sight of him sprawled on the ground, blood forming a pool beneath his head. And the agonizing wait for him to open his eyes.

She rubbed her stomach absently. She had thought that his cyborg strength would protect him, protect her from the pain of losing him, but nothing could prevent the inevitable.

“I’m very sorry, Hattie.”

She looked over to find him watching her touch her stomach, his eyes tortured. She could sense the distance between them and for a cowardly moment, she wanted to let him believe that she was afraid of him, to let their relationship drift apart due to his guilt. But she couldn’t do that to him.

“I know it was an accident. And really, it doesn’t hurt. Just aches a little. I’ll soak in the tub for a while when I get home.”

She didn’t ask him to join her and he didn’t offer. Her heart ached, but she couldn’t bring herself to close the gap between them. Maybe it would be better for both of them to let it grow.

They completed the rest of the trip in silence. When they arrived back at the habitat, he lifted her down and carried her into the garden room and removed the lid of the tub.

“Do you need help undressing?” he asked stiffly.

Yes.

“No, I’m fine.”

He whirled and left the room without another word. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she painfully undressed and slid into the warm water.

Even though she tried to tell herself it was for the best, even though she tried to wall up her heart, when she emerged into the main dome and found that Morgan wasn’t present, tears threatened once more. Resolutely, she pushed them back. The cowardly part of her wanted to simply retreat to her bed and hide. She had a strong suspicion that even though they’d shared the bed every night since the first time, Morgan wouldn’t join her tonight if she didn’t invite him. Would she? Her heart and her head were still in conflict as she went to get dressed.

Before she could decide, she heard Flora clucking. The chickens needed tending to and she had chores to complete. She pushed her worries aside and went to work.

Thoughts of Morgan kept a low hum in the back of her head as she went about her business. She thought she’d decided it was best to keep her distance until he walked into the dome just as she finished preparing dinner and her heart skipped a beat. He looked as tall and handsome as always, but she could see the lines of strain on his face and she wanted nothing more than to smooth them away. Instead, she remained standing by the stove.

“Thank you for unloading the wagon,” she said, her voice sounding odd in her own ears.

“Of course. It is part of my duties.”

“I used some of it to make supper. If you want to join me…”

Her words hung in the air for a moment before he responded. “Do you want me to?”

“It’s your food as well—”

“That’s not what I asked, Hattie. Do you want me to join you for the meal?”

Yes, her heart cried and despite her fears, she listened. “Yes, I would like that.”

The lines on his face eased a little but aside from complimenting her on the food, neither one of them said much as they ate. When she stood up, she winced, her stomach muscles still a little sore, and he was immediately at her elbow.

“I will clean up. You should rest.”

“I need to enter the profits from today’s market in the books.”

“I can do that. If you trust me with your accounts.”

“Our accounts,” she corrected automatically.

He stared down at her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she whispered, but she couldn’t look at him. “Our partnership hasn’t changed.”

“Hasn’t it?”

“I’m tired,” she said, avoiding his eyes and his question.

“Then go and rest.”

She escaped into the bedroom but couldn’t quite bring herself to close the door and shut him out. Feeling the need for some physical comfort, she searched through her small collection of clothes for her oldest, fleeciest pajamas, then topped them with a worn flannel robe.

Not my sexiest look, she thought as she studied herself in the mirror, but the sorrow in her eyes was all too clear. As she sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes fell on the small picture frame she kept there. One side had a picture of her mother as a young woman, her face alight with optimism. The other side held a snapshot of the two of them together on a rare outing to one of the small parks that had still existed at the time. She must have been around ten, before her mother became ill. They were both laughing and looking at each other as the wind whipped their hair around. They looked so happy.

They had been happy. A rush of memories washed over her—holidays and outings, but also small moments like listening to her mother read her a story or when she taught her how to knit. Even after she got sick, there had been many such moments, but she had almost forgotten them in that last terrible year. But knowing that year would come, she still wouldn’t have given up any of those times. Why was she thinking of giving up on Morgan? Yes, even being a cyborg didn’t mean that he was safe from harm, but it would be foolish to give up on happiness just on the chance that it would be taken away from her someday. If, God forbid, something happened to him tomorrow, wouldn’t she rather remember that they were together tonight, not isolated by more than the physical distance between them?

“Morgan!” she cried, rushing into the main room.

He was crouched over her computer, but he jumped up as soon as she entered.

“What is it? Is your stomach worse? I knew I should have taken you to the doctor.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said impatiently. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so distant with you. Of course I want our partnership to go on.”

He stiffened. “I do not intend to abandon you.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean the whole thing—you and me, together.”

“It’s all right. You do not have to bribe me to make sure that I will stay.” He wasn’t even looking at her.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not trying to bribe you. I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I was just scared.”

He looked down at his arm with loathing in his eyes. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me. How can you? I am no longer a man.”

“I’m not scared of the fact that you’re a cyborg—”

“Why aren’t you?” he asked bitterly. “Especially now that you know how easy it is for me to hurt you.”

“It was an accident, Morgan. I know that.”

“But now you’re scared of me.”

“I wasn’t scared of you; I was scared for you.”

He ignored her words, pacing around the room. “How can you trust me? I can’t even trust myself.”

“I do trust you.”

“Well, don’t.” He grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “I’m going to patrol.”

He obviously wasn’t going to listen to her words but as he reached the door, an idea struck her. “Are you going to patrol around the habitat?”

“Yes, of course. Why?”

“I think I’m going to take another bath,” she said, each word slow and deliberate.

“That’s good. I’m sure you’re still hurting from my inexcusable action.” He slammed the inner door of the airlock behind him as he left.

How long would it take before he thought about what she had said? Would he understand what she meant? Crossing her fingers, she went to get ready.

Chapter Sixteen

M-231 made two rapid circuits of the habitat before Hattie’s words sunk in. She was going to take a bath? Knowing that he was outside and could see her?

I shouldn’t, he thought, but his feet were already carrying him to the back of the habitat where he could see the garden room. She had shrugged out of the robe and was slowly unfastening the top of her pajamas as he approached. His breath caught as the slender column of pale flesh appeared between the sides. Such a short time since he had stood here, alone and cold, afraid even to dream of more with the woman inside. But since then, he had the joy of being with her and felt even colder and lonelier now that he knew what he was missing.

Her top slipped free, revealing those small perfect breasts he knew so well. She slid her fingers slowly down her sides to catch the top of her pants and slip them down her legs. Every movement was an exercise in graceful seduction. How could she act so freely, knowing that he was outside? It wasn’t until she ladled water over her body and began soaping her breasts in a slow, sensual movement that he realized that she did know.

That she was doing this for him.

Her nipples were like ripe red berries when she grasped them, slowly rolling them back and forth.

“Like this, Morgan. I like it when you touch me like this.”

His enhanced hearing enabled him to hear her words clearly despite the dome, and she seemed to be looking straight at him. His cock throbbed against his pants, but this time, he didn’t take it out, too focused on the woman in front of him.

Her hand slid down between her legs, parting her lips so he could see the pink, swollen flesh.

“I like it when you touch me here as well. So much better than when I touch myself.” She brushed a finger across her clit, and he saw her shiver. “But if you won’t come in from the cold and help me, I’ll have to do it myself.”

She circled the small nub of flesh. “I’ve had to do so many things by myself. Are you going to make me do this too?”

He wanted to go to her more than he had wanted anything in his life, but what if he hurt her again?

Her breath came in rapid little pants as her hand moved faster and pink spread from her cheeks down across her chest. “Please, Morgan. I need you.”

His feet moved before he consciously made the decision, carrying him through the airlock and into the garden room with the maximum speed he could achieve. He slammed through the door and then stopped dead at the sight of her, pink and glowing in the steamy room, her arousal perfuming the entire space.

“You came,” she said breathlessly, her hand still between her legs.

“You said you needed me.”

“I do. Always.”

He caught her up in his arms, kissing her with all of the frustrated passion locked inside him. She met him just as eagerly, writhing against him, and with a harsh groan, he placed his hand over hers, sending her into a swift, shuddering climax as he held her against him.

“Mm. That’s so much better.” Heavy-lidded eyes looked up at him as she smiled, then dropped to her knees, freeing his erection in one quick move.

“Hattie, what are you—” he broke off with a moan as she stroked him from root to tip.

“I want to talk to you.”

“Like this?” he asked incredulously.

Her tongue swiped the head of his cock and he actually felt his knees buckle. “Do I have your attention?”

“Completely.”

“I didn’t withdraw because I was scared of you.”

He flinched, but she closed her mouth around the tip of his cock and sucked.

“I’m not scared or repulsed by the fact that you’re a cyborg. It doesn’t bother me at all.” She reached up her free hand and clasped his metal one. “You have brought me nothing but joy.”

“But then, why? You flinched when I touched you.”

“I’m not flinching now,” she purred and licked him again, making slow circles around his shaft. She seemed to lose the thread of the conversation, rubbing against him as she took him deeper, but she finally pulled away again.

“I wasn’t flinching then because I was scared of you. I was scared for myself. When you went down like that?” She shuddered. “I thought you were dead. I had convinced myself that the fact that you were a cyborg would keep you safe.” Slow, gentle licks.

“But I was fine.”

“I know, but it made me realize that while you are strong, you’re not invincible. You can be hurt. You can even be killed.” Her breath caught and tears sparkled in her big green eyes. “I was afraid of losing you. Afraid of losing someone else I loved.”

He froze. “You love me?”

“So much that the thought of you dying destroyed me. I know I didn’t handle it well. Please forgive me.”

“You love me?” he repeated, still stunned.

“Yes.” She gave his cock a gentle tug as she smiled up at him. “Is that so hard to believe?”

His heart too full for words, he lifted her to her feet and carried her to the bedroom before stripping off the rest of his clothes with frantic urgency.

“I wasn’t finished,” she protested as he came down over her.

“Later,” he promised and buried himself inside her sweet body in one long stroke. “I love you too, Hattie. So much.”

Her legs came up to circle his waist as he thrust, already on the verge of climax but determined to take her with him.

“Love you,” he gasped over and over as he covered her face, her neck, any part of her body he could reach with kisses.

“Yes. Yes, Morgan.”

She came with a wailing cry and he followed her over, burying himself completely in the tight, heated depths of her cunt as he exploded in seemingly endless jets of seed before he sagged down over her in limp satisfaction.

“You really love me?” he asked, as soon as his mind cleared enough to think again.

“I really do.” She smiled up at him, her face glowing with happiness.

“Then everything that has led me to this place has been worth it.”

He rolled to the side, keeping her tucked against his body. She stroked his chest soothingly.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

No. But despite his instinctive protest, she deserved to know.

“You remember I told you I joined the army as soon as I could?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I loved it. They fed me, they gave me a place to sleep, they gave me a structure that made sense. I soaked up everything they taught me. When they sent me on a mission, I never hesitated. I believed that I was doing the right thing—that I was making the world a better place. I fought for them. I killed for them.”

The rhythm of her hand didn’t stop but she stayed silent, waiting for him to continue in his own time.

“We were sent out to quell a riot. It wasn’t the first time, or even the tenth. I don’t know how many missions I had been on at that point. But someone fucked up and I got separated from my squad. I was forced into an alley and I saw… I saw…”

The scene flashed before his eyes, as vivid as it was in his nightmares.

“They were just kids, starving kids, scrabbling through scraps of rotten food for something to eat. They weren’t rioting against the government; they just wanted food. And I knew so well what that was like. I started to lower my gun, and someone shot me. I don’t know who. One of them could have been armed or it could have been one of our men. But the shot blew off my arm and I fell. I couldn’t move but I was awake enough to see the rest of my squad sweep in and shoot them down. All of those kids, dying around me, and there was nothing I could do. One of them fell right next to me and just lay there, staring at me. I knew we were both going to die, and I was glad. I was too ashamed to live.”

Hattie’s hand had stilled, and he was afraid that she would draw it away, but after a silent moment, she resumed her strokes.

“But you lived,” she said.

“I did. I tried to fight them, tried to protest, but they did what they wanted. And they gave me this arm—a constant reminder of what I did.”

“Is that why you hate being a cyborg?”

“Yes. And then they sent me to Mars. To a planet that was as cold and dead as I felt inside. And you know the most ironic thing?”

“What?”

“I don’t even need to eat any more. My body can use the nutrients in the soil, even the air, to supply my needs. I’ll never starve again.”

“Oh, Morgan.” She wiggled around until she was leaning over him. “I love you.”

Her words fell over him like a balm, easing the place inside him that had hurt for so long. He kissed her, then made love to her with slow, aching tenderness, leaving the horrors of the past behind in the joy of the present.

Chapter Seventeen

The next morning dawned clear and peaceful, but unfortunately, the peace did not last long. Morgan was watching Hattie sleep and wondering if it was too early to wake her when the monitor signaled. He rolled out of bed and crept quietly into the next room to check on the alarm. A wagon was traveling down the path at the edge of the claim, heading for the rocks. The sun was barely above the horizon and the temperature was still below freezing—unusually early for humans to be up.

With a reluctant glance at the bedroom, he decided not to leave Hattie and investigate. Whoever was in the truck was too far away to cause any harm. He watched as it parked by the rocks and sat there unmoving for a time. By the time Hattie wandered out into the main dome yawning widely, the wagon was returning to town.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Watching,” he said as he went to the kitchen area, returning a moment later to hand her a mug.

“What’s this?” She took a deep breath and an ecstatic smile crossed her face. “Coffee! How in the world did you get it?”

“I traded for it. I remembered you said you missed it. Only freeze-dried, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t care. It’s coffee.” She took a sip and moaned with happiness. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much.”

He loved seeing her look so happy and resolved to make sure she had a constant supply of coffee.

“I wonder what it takes to grow coffee beans,” she said thoughtfully as she took another sip. “I’m sure I’m not the only one that misses it. I know it grows in hot climates so maybe if we kept one of the greenhouses really hot…”

He laughed. “Maybe we should concentrate on what’s working, at least for right now. Although, we could think about adding a small experimental greenhouse.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. Maybe we could even have more than one so we could mimic different conditions. I think we have enough framing and panels for at least two small greenhouses, although we would need to buy heaters and irrigation units unless we can tap into the existing system.”

“The bank balance is pretty healthy after yesterday. Even though we took a lot of things in trade, we made quite a few credits as well.”

“That’s wonderful. Screw you, Lewis family. We’ll get by without you.” Still clutching her mug, she came and perched on his lap. “But don’t think you’ve distracted me. What are you watching?”

“You remember that Clint and I found tracks along the far side of the claim?”

“I remember.”

“A wagon traveled down it this morning. Here.” He pointed it out on the monitor. “It’s on its way back now.”

“Are you going to stop it?”

“I don’t know. Technically, it’s trespassing, but it doesn’t seem to be causing any harm. It stopped by the rocks for about half an hour. I thought I’d take a ride out there this morning and see if it left any trace.”

“Can I come?”

“It should be safe enough. There isn’t anyone out there now.”

“Good.” She looked up at him eagerly. “And can we ride out there together on Ghost? It looked like fun when Jo and Clint were doing it.”

His cock stiffened at the thought of having her pressed against him as they rode. “I definitely like that idea.”

“Good.” She brushed a quick kiss across his lips, then jumped up. “Now I’m going to use more of our trade goods and make you an omelet with fresh herbs. Can you get some eggs for me?”

“Only if you kiss me properly first.” He tugged her back onto his lap and kissed her until she was melting against him and his cock was a rigid bar beneath the lush curves of her ass.

“That’s a much better way to say good morning,” she whispered when he finally drew back and her eyes fluttered open.

“I agree. I would repeat it, but I have eggs to gather for you.”

“We could just have protein bars instead,” she suggested.

“I am very tempted, but I do want to see if I can find out what that wagon was doing out there and I suspect we would end up spending most of the morning in bed.”

“I suppose you’re right. And there’s work to be done.” Her hand cupped his cheek briefly. “But it’s so much better working with the person you love.”

After breakfast, Morgan insisted on checking her breathing mask twice and putting an emergency supply of oxygen in one of Ghost’s saddlebags.

“We’re only going to the edge of the claim and back,” she protested. “Is this really necessary?” He had made her wear the heavy-duty mask that covered most of her face rather than the smaller nose mask she usually wore.

“I’m not taking any chances with your safety, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, but I’m really very good at—”

“—taking care of yourself. I know.”

She opened up the small pack she was carrying to show him the second mask she had packed as a backup. “You see?”

“I didn’t doubt you, but please, Hattie, let me take care of you whenever I can.”

He looked so earnest that her mild annoyance at his controlling ways completely disappeared. “All right, my love. If it makes you feel better.”

“It does,” he said firmly as he led her into the vehicle shed.

Ghost waited patiently against one wall, but she thought he looked rather forlorn. “You know, we really ought to get him his own stable.”

“He is a means of transportation, even if he doesn’t look like your rover.”

“I know, but he feels different.” She walked over and ran her hand through the thin mass of tubes that made up Ghost’s mane. “Don’t you, boy?”

“He can’t respond to you.”

When she sighed and lowered her hand, Ghost immediately butted her lightly with his head as if asking for more. A delighted laugh spilled from her lips. “He can’t, can he?”

After petting the big horse for a few more minutes, she let Morgan lift her onto his back. The ground suddenly looked very far away, and she clutched the built-in saddle with a nervous gulp.

“You won’t let me fall, will you?”

“Never.”

He climbed up behind her with one smooth, powerful movement and pulled her back against his chest. His metal arm came around her waist, holding her securely in place and she relaxed back into him.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Definitely. I’m excited to see what it’s like to actually ride.”

The big automatic doors opened, and they rode out onto the claim. Everything looked slightly different from this perspective and she looked around eagerly. The habitat sprawled across the slight incline behind them while in front of them, the greenhouses looked neat and prosperous, the green of their contents a shocking contrast to the reds and browns of the Martian landscape. The lichen was already spreading, turning the dusty ground into a living carpet. The small rocky hills surrounding their valley rose up against the pale orange sky. She gave a sigh of contentment.

“This is really beginning to feel like home. Our home.”

“Something I have never had.”

“You do now.”

His arm tightened around her waist and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. It was one of the rare warmer days and she could feel the heat of the sun on her face where it wasn’t covered by the mask. They rode in contented silence for a few minutes before she looked over her shoulder at him.

“Can we go a little faster?”

He didn’t respond verbally but Ghost immediately started to speed up. She laughed in delight as they began cantering across the plain.

“Faster?”

“Yes!”

Their pace increased to a gallop. Her hair whipped around her head and she could feel Ghost’s body moving between her legs in a smooth demonstration of strength and speed. Morgan’s firm, warm body pressed against her back. Despite how safe she felt in his arms, the rush of sensation thrilled her. Her nipples tightened and a demanding ache began between her legs. She leaned forward, increasing the pressure against her clit.

“You are aroused.” Morgan’s voice was dark and husky in her ear.

“I didn’t realize it would be so exciting,” she gasped.

His hand moved, reaching up to pluck lightly at her nipple, adding to the thrill.

“Harder,” she urged.

The pressure increased, a spark of fire running from her breast to her clit. He pressed his other hand between her legs, rolling his finger across the swollen nub, as the hard vibration of Ghost’s body rippled through her system. With a startled cry, she climaxed, pleasurable shivers washing over her.

“Oh my,” she sighed, slumping back against him as Ghost’s pace slowed back down to a trot. “I can see why you rangers like your horses.”

“I’ve never had that reaction,” he said a little dryly as he pulled her against his massive erection. “But I certainly enjoy having you along.”

“What about you?” She deliberately wiggled her butt across his cock.

He groaned. “Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.”

With one easy movement, he lifted her up and turned her so that she was facing him. The sudden change in position shocked her but she still felt safe. Dark, hungry eyes surveyed her.

“Do you like these pants?”

“What?” The question didn’t make sense.

“Never mind. I’ll get you another pair.”

Before she could protest, he ran a metal finger across the seam of her pants and they split open, a rush of cool air caressing her damp flesh. Her arousal started to spike again as he stared down at her pussy, fully exposed to him with her legs spread wide across the saddle.

“So pretty. So pink and perfect.” He stroked a cool finger across her naked folds, groaning in approval at the slick heat that met his touch. She cried out as he slid the digit inside her, the cold metal both shocking and arousing, then clenched around it.

“You’re ready for me,” he growled.

“Oh, yes. Hurry.”

He freed his erection with his other hand, then lifted her hips and pulled her down over him. She clung desperately to his shoulders, the sudden shocking fullness almost overwhelming. Her breath came in rapid pants as she tried to adjust but each step that Ghost took jolted her, forcing her further down on his massive cock. Morgan didn’t try and thrust, although she could feel his hands tighten on her ass. He felt impossibly bigger this way and her body quivered, trying to cope with the invasion. He reached between their bodies and placed his fingers on either side of her clit, exposing even more of the sensitive flesh before he began rolling them up and down, the light touch a thrilling contrast to the heavy weight of his cock deep inside her. She hovered on the verge of climax.

“Morgan!” she cried desperately.

He lowered her back over Ghost’s neck, the change in position putting even more pressure on her strained pussy, and began rocking into her with the same rhythm as the horse’s movement. His eyes were focused on where their bodies came together, and she caught a flash of burnished metal before she felt the cool kiss of his finger across her swollen clit.

“Come for me, Hattie. Now.” He pressed down hard on the exposed nub, his finger vibrating, and pleasure washed over her so completely that her vision turned white as her body convulsed helplessly in his arms. He thrust into her, moving so fast and hard that she kept climaxing, a series of mini shocks running through her system until at last he buried himself in her, hot jets of liquid filling her as he shuddered and called out her name.

Trusting him to keep her safe, she brought her legs up to circle his hips, wrapping him in her love as his breathing slowly returned to normal. He raised his head and smiled down at her as he lifted her back upright.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She wanted to kiss him but the irritating breathing mask was in the way. “How long can I survive without the mask?”

“Possibly ten minutes, maybe more. There is oxygen in the air, just not enough for a human to survive on.”

Reaching for her mask, she grinned at him. “That’s plenty of time.”

With a horrified look he pulled her hand back down. “You’re not taking the mask off.”

“But I want to kiss you. Just for a minute.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not taking any chances with you.”

She sighed. “How much longer do we have to wear these stupid things?”

“By current estimates, it will be at least another ten years before the oxygen levels are high enough to begin to match Earth conditions.” He hesitated. “There has been some discussion of experimenting in another few years to see how well human bodies can adapt—like the ones who used to live at high altitudes.”

“I’m willing to try,” she said eagerly.

“We’ll see. We still have several years to go before it’s even a possibility.”

“Fine.”

“When we get back to the habitat, you can kiss me as much as you want to,” he promised.

“Anywhere I want to?”

His cock jerked and she laughed.

“Wicked temptress,” he said and pulled her closer. She snuggled against him and let Ghost’s rhythmic movements lull her into a half sleep. When Morgan finally lifted her free, she mumbled a groggy protest.

“We’re almost there, sweetheart.”

That roused her enough to pick up her head and look around. Up ahead, the rocky canyons that formed the far boundary of their claim began to climb into a steep escarpment. From the maps she had seen previously, the ground dropped away even more steeply on the far side of the massive rock wall, dropping down to form one wall of a huge crater.

Morgan brought Ghost to a halt at the bottom of the rock face and helped her down. She looked around with a puzzled frown.

“Looks like the usual Martian dirt to me.”

He pointed to some long grooves in the ground. “These are new tracks.”

Taking a second look, she nodded. “I see what you mean. Everything is sort of churned up. But what are they doing out here? There’s nothing here.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Other than the tracks, the only thing that stood out to Clint was this crack in the rocks.”

She ran her hand up the fissure but even on her tiptoes, she couldn’t find the end of it. After stepping back and studying it, she said thoughtfully, “It looks kind of like a door.”

“A door?”

“Look at how it curves across under that overhang, like that’s the top of the door frame. And if this is one edge, the other could be there, behind that outcropping.”

“That would be a massive door.” He moved closer to the rock, also following the crack with his fingers as far as possible, then tilting his head back to study the rock face under the overhang. “But there does appear to be a small fissure up there as well.”

“It wouldn’t be any bigger than the loading doors at the supply depot.”

“The supply depot,” he repeated, and they looked at each other.

“Could someone be stashing supplies out here?” she asked. “And why would they? There’s plenty of room in the town depot.”

“Except those are all inventoried,” he said slowly. “If someone had something to hide…”

“Someone? It’s a pretty elaborate setup. I can’t see anyone doing this on their own.”

They looked at each other again.

“GenCon?” she asked. “Could that be why they have been so insistent on getting us off of the claim?”

“They certainly have the credits to build something this elaborate—assuming it actually is a door,” he added. “And if they are doing something they don’t want people to know about, it would make sense that they wanted one of their own on this plot.”

“Which is why when Winthrop died, they wanted me gone.” She kicked a small rock across the ground. “But it still doesn’t make sense. They have that huge building in town. They could have ten depots in there and no one would ever know.”

“But people work in that building, plus they do a lot of business there. It’s hard to keep a secret for long, especially in a small place like this. One drunken night or one loose lip to one of Cherry’s girls…”

“Which brings us back to what? What would they be storing?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he said grimly.

Clutching his arm, she stared up at him beseechingly. “You need to be careful. Those men at the market were willing to get violent.”

“Without much success.”

“Your head might not agree,” she said tartly. “Please, Morgan. I know you’re tough but you’re not invincible. And I don’t think they’re worried about playing fair.”

“I’ll be careful,” he promised with a quick kiss, then smiled down at her. “Since I don’t have any idea how this door opens—if it actually is a door—we might as well go back home. I have an experimental greenhouse to build.”

When he lifted her back on to Ghost, she flinched when her naked flesh came in contact with the saddle. “Next time we go riding, I’m wearing a dress.”

“Is this better?” He mounted behind her, then picked her up and turned her so that she was sitting sideways across his lap, securely clasped in his cybernetic arm. “I’m sorry that I did not consider the consequences. I was just desperate for you.”

“Mm, I like hearing that.”

The ride home wasn’t quite as exciting but snuggled safely in Morgan’s arms, she had no complaints.

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as they returned to the habitat, Hattie went to change her clothes while he contacted Clint. The other cyborg gave a low whistle after he told him about their speculations.

“I’m an idiot,” Clint said. “I should have looked deeper. I just assumed it was solid rock and only did a surface scan. Do you want me to come back out there?”

“No need to make a special trip. I’ll ride into town tomorrow and pick up a scanner from headquarters. I can’t say I’m really convinced; the whole thing just doesn’t make any sense.”

Clint grunted. “How often do the wagons go out there?”

“No idea. Because of the way the land dips, you can’t see that path. Of course, now that I have the monitors, I’ll be able to track them.”

“Track them? Or intercept them?”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Really?”

“It’s just… if all they are doing is driving that route, I’m not sure it really matters. They are trespassing, but that’s a pretty minor offense. They aren’t causing any harm, so do I really want to stir up trouble?”

“Based on the incident at the market yesterday, trouble is already stirred,” Clint said dryly. “Is Hattie behind your sudden forbearance?”

“Of course. I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“I understand why you might want to drop it, but I’m not so sure that whoever is at the other end of this is going to be as willing. Not as long as you’re on that land.”

He sighed and rubbed his brow. “I suspect you’re right. So next step, scanner.”

“You said that Hattie’s husband—”

“Former husband,” he growled.

“—would make periodic business trips where he was gone for a few days. It might be interesting to know if they were on any kind of regular schedule—and see if that schedule matches up with the wagon schedule.”

“As much as I do not want to discuss him, it’s a good idea. I’ll ask her.”

“If you need me, let me know.”

“Thanks, Clint.” The bonds of friendship still felt strange to him after so many years on his own, but the camaraderie reminded him of those early days in the military before it all went so horribly wrong.

“Any time. We have to look out for our women, don’t we?”

“That we do.”

After the call concluded, he went to retrieve Ghost. The horse was standing peacefully, absorbing sunlight to power his supplemental batteries, and Morgan put a hand on his back as he gazed out over the valley.

“This is our home now, Ghost, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep it—for Hattie, and for us.”

That evening, he brought up the subject of the business trips. They had finished supper and were discussing the progress he had made on the greenhouse, but part of his mind was still worrying about the problem of the intruders.

“I’m sorry to have to bring this up, Hattie, but I need to ask you about those business trips.”

“The ones Winthrop took? Why?” She frowned up at him as he started clearing the table.

“Were they on any kind of schedule?”

“Yes. About every three weeks, I think. Does it matter?”

“I’m wondering if there is any relationship between when the wagons come and when he was gone.”

“Do you think he had something to do with it?”

He shrugged. “If GenCon is involved, they arranged for the two of you to have this claim. That would suggest that he was at the very least aware of what was happening.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She sighed. “Let me check my records. I made a note when he was away.”

While he started on the dishes, she brought up her calendar. “I was right. It was every three weeks, although not always on the same day of the week.”

“When would he have gone again?”

“Hm. One of the dates has already passed, but the next one…” A startled look crossed her face. “The next one would have been tomorrow, give or take a few days.”

“Which may mean we get another wagon tomorrow morning.”

He placed the clean wet dishes in the rack so any drips could be recaptured, then wandered over to the wall of windows overlooking their claim. The clear night enabled him to see the ridge of the escarpment against the dark sky.

Hattie came up behind him and put her arms around his waist.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if I should just stop one of the wagons and question the driver.”

“Can you do that?”

He grinned down at her. “They are trespassing, and I am a ranger.”

“But?”

“But as far as I can tell, they don’t know we’re aware of the fact that they’re out there. It might be better to keep it that way until we have a better idea of what’s happening. Maybe some worker just likes to have breakfast in peace and watch the sun rise.”

“But you don’t believe that.”

“No.”

“Well there’s nothing you can do about it tonight.”

With unexpected boldness, her hand slipped around and covered his cock. Already partially erect from having her pressed so closely against him, he sprang immediately into full, aching hardness.

“Hattie! What are you doing?”

“You promised me that tonight I could kiss you for as long as I liked.” She gave him a long, firm stroke. “Anywhere I liked.”

The memory of her perfect pink mouth stretched wide around his cock made it jerk against her hand.

“I wouldn’t want to break my promise,” he growled as he swept her off her feet and carried her to the bedroom.

The monitor alarm sounded again the next morning. He hadn’t been sleeping—he had been listening for the alert—and he stealthily slipped out of bed.

A wagon was already moving along the sunken track and even as he watched, a second one followed. His mouth tightened. Was the activity increasing because of the time frame, or because of their presence on the claim? Either way, he needed to find out what was going on as soon as possible.

By the time Hattie awoke, he’d already completed the morning chores. She yawned sleepily as he brought her a cup of coffee.

“Mm, thank you.”

Still flushed from sleep, she smiled up at him. Her hair was a wild mess around her head, her eyes heavy, and she smelled delightfully of woman and sex.

“Did I oversleep?”

“No, but you should try and go back to sleep. After last night, you deserve some extra rest.”

Her cheeks flushed even pinker. “The same goes for you. You could come back to bed.” She patted the bed next to her enticingly.

“Don’t tempt me, woman.” He sighed. “There were two wagons this morning. I need to get to the bottom of this.”

“Please be careful.”

“I’m just going into town to get that scanner. I’ll come back here before I do anything else.”

She sighed and sat up. “Well, that certainly takes the thrill out of the morning.”

“We will have a morning in bed together soon.”

“Promise? I love the way you keep your promises.” She leaned forward and stroked her hand across his cock.

“Wicked temptress,” he groaned as he reluctantly removed her hand. “All of the chores are done and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Another ping from the alarm sounded as he rode into town and he swore. Why all the increased activity? And why now?

At the ranger headquarters, he found the scanner he needed and was about to leave when a call came in from Clint.

“I was thinking about those dates you mentioned…”

“Yes?”

“Check the schedule. The business trips sounded like they were on the same frequency as your visits to the power station. Weren’t the power station visits assigned that way because that’s when supplies are shipped into town and the workers change shifts?”

He swore. “Of course it is. Why the hell didn’t I think of that?”

“Love is a wonderful thing, but it doesn’t exactly lead to clear thinking.”

“You sound like the damn Judge.”

Clint laughed. “Unfortunately, he is frequently correct.”

“Not about everything. He still hates humans.”

“From what I’ve heard, he has good reason to hate them,” Clint said grimly. “Anyway, while you’re there in the office, why don’t you check the schedule and see how closely they match?”

He brought up the schedule. “Pretty damn closely. So if someone is bringing in supplies from the power station and then quietly hiding them, this would be the perfect time.”

“Which means there must be something behind that rock face.”

“The sooner I find out the better. I’ll let you know what I discover.”

As he ended the call and turned to leave the office, he bumped into B-669. One of the last soldiers to be turned into a cyborg, he still retained some of his youthful optimism, despite the cybernetic leg that twisted his gait.

“Are you meeting the ship?” B-669 asked eagerly.

Fuck. The next load of settlers was arriving tomorrow. That meant he would be needed in town and would have to patrol every day to make sure the greenhorns weren’t killing themselves.

“I forgot,” he admitted.

B-669 stared at him. “How can you forget?”

He shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind.”

The young cyborg leaned forward confidentially. “I got a surprise on that ship. For J-817.”

A dour older cyborg, for some reason J-817 had taken B-669 under his wing. The two of them were working a mining claim far to the north. Although the cyborgs were forbidden to homestead, they were allowed to establish a mining claim—with a hefty percentage of any profits going to Earth Government.

“I don’t get the impression that he enjoys surprises,” Morgan said dryly.

A blinding smile crossed B-669’s face. “He’ll enjoy this one. I’m sure of it.”

“What is it?”

B-669 shook his head. “I want to wait until the ship is here before I tell anyone. Will you be around tomorrow?”

“Maybe. I have some issues of my own to take care of before the settlers arrive.”

B-669’s face turned solemn. “If there is anything I can do, let me know.”

Apparently the bonds between the cyborgs went deeper than he realized. Or perhaps it had only been his own guilt that had prevented him from seeing it before.

“I will. Thank you.” He hesitated a moment longer. “My name is Morgan.”

The young cyborg smiled at him. “And my name is Bill.”

On the way back to the homestead, Morgan worried about the newly arriving ship. His ranger duties had never seemed so onerous. How could he go off and leave Hattie when everything still seemed so unsettled? But at the same time, he had made a commitment to his job and he couldn’t back out of it now.

Thinking of his earlier realization about the ties that bound the cyborgs together, he began to consider if another one of his brethren would be free to stay with Hattie while he was gone. As much as he hated the idea of someone else being with her, at least he would know she was safe.

He was still debating who might be worthy of his trust when he reached the habitat and she came running up from the greenhouses to greet him.

“I have good news and bad news,” she said, smiling up at him.

“And what is the good news?”

“I think we can grow coffee. The seeds are included in the government supplies.”

He laughed, his worries tempered by her obvious delight.

“And the bad news?”

“It could take up to five years for one of the trees to bear fruit.”

He swung down next to her. “I don’t think that’s bad news.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” he said firmly. “As a matter of fact, I kind of like it. Planting something that takes that long to produce is an act of faith. A way of acknowledging that we have planted our roots here. We will still be here when they are ready.”

Her eyes turned bright with tears. “That’s a wonderful way of looking at it. I love you, Morgan.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He bent over and gave her an all too short kiss, then sighed. “I hate to do it but I’m going to leave you again.”

Leading Ghost, he headed for the transportation shed and she accompanied him.

“So soon?”

“Yes. I have a scanner and I want to investigate now, while everything seems quiet.”

He had kept in remote contact with the monitor and, after the third wagon made the trek, the claim had been undisturbed. If they were trying to avoid detection, the activity probably wouldn’t pick up again until tonight around sundown.

“I suppose that makes sense,” she said reluctantly. “Will you be gone long?”

“Less than an hour I should think. I’m just planning to ride out there and run the scanner. If it reveals a hidden supply depot—and at this point I strongly suspect that it will—I’ll go back into town this afternoon to talk to S-756.”

“Can I come to town with you this afternoon? I’d like to see the Judge again.” Her eyes twinkled. “He’s such a sweet man.”

He snorted. “Not exactly the term I would have used, but of course, you can come if you would like. The town is in quite a state getting ready for the new ship tomorrow.”

“The next settlement ship? I hadn’t realized it was time for the next one.”

When he nodded, she beamed at him. “How exciting. I still remember getting off the ship that first day. Mars wasn’t at all what I expected.”

“But you looked so happy.”

“I was. I still am.” A shadow crossed her face. “I’m sorry that Winthrop never seemed happy here, but this is my home. Our home.”

“Our home,” he agreed as he positioned Ghost next to the wall and moved to the ATV.

“You’re not taking Ghost?”

“No, I don’t think so. The two of us are rather conspicuous. I can take the ATV almost to the escarpment, then go the rest of the way on foot. Just in case anyone is around.”

She bit her lip and didn’t say anything, but her hands twisted together nervously. He reached over and covered them with his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Everything will be fine.”

Another quick kiss and he was on his way. Parking the ATV a short distance away from his target, he covered the rest of the ground at a brisk jog. When he arrived at the rock face, he was shocked to see a rover parked there. It must have traveled alongside the third wagon, merging into its signal. Making a mental note to increase the resolution of the security monitors, he crept closer.

Looking beyond the rover, he realized he wouldn’t need the scanner after all. The section of rock Hattie had identified as a door was standing open, revealing a long passageway into what had appeared to be solid rock. The steady hum of machinery came from within, but it was dim enough compared to the outside sunlight that he couldn’t make out any details.

He surveyed his surroundings. Other than the machine noise, nothing disturbed the quiet of the desert. No one inhabited the rover and the passageway appeared empty. After a brief debate, he decided to go closer. He wanted to know where that dark tunnel led. From the sounds emanating from inside, this was more than just a place to hide supplies.

Once inside the passageway, he paused again to examine his surroundings. The massive tunnel appeared to take advantage of an old lava tube. The walls were naturally rounded rock but the smooth, level floor indicated human involvement. A small metal box on the lower left-hand side of the doorway glowed red and he bent to inspect it. As he started to straighten, something jabbed his neck and he recognized the sharp pain of a syringe plunging into his flesh. His nanites rushed to counteract whatever had been injected but he could already feel himself getting sluggish. When he tried to turn and fight off his attacker, his limbs didn’t want to respond. With a sinking heart, he recognized the icy cold spreading through his veins as the same medication used by Earth Government in the process of making cyborgs.

“Not so bossy now, are you?” Quilby asked from behind him as he crumpled to his knees.

Fuck. He had made a fatal mistake in assuming that the passage was empty. The noise of the machinery must have covered the man’s footsteps and the wind blowing in from the entrance had obscured his scent.

“Don’t worry, machine. I’m not going to kill you. Yet. You’re far too valuable. Although you may end up wishing that I had.” Quilby bent over him. “And as soon as I have you taken care of, I’m going to pay a visit to that woman of yours.”

“Hattie…” he mumbled as his system went into forced hibernation, the world turning dark around him. The last thing he heard was the sound of Quilby’s laughter.

Chapter Nineteen

Hattie paced restlessly back and forth. Morgan had promised to be gone for no more than an hour and it had now been closer to three. What if something had happened to him? Visions of Winthrop dying alone in his rover filled her head. Morgan seemed so strong, but if he had twisted his ankle or hit his head or… Each of her speculations was more horrendous than the last. She knew that as long as the wound wasn’t immediately fatal his nanites would heal him, but how long would it take? How long could she remain here worrying?

Maybe she would take a little ride across the plain, just to see if she could spot him. If he were already returning, they could come back together. And if he were injured, waiting to heal, at least she could sit with him. Her mind made up, she hurried to put together her pack. Remembering his insistence, she reluctantly donned the full-face breathing mask, then headed for the transportation shed. Ghost stood quietly to one side in his usual position as she opened the outer doors.

“Hi there, boy. We’re going to go for a ride. Would you like that?”

To her surprise, he walked towards her. She remembered that Morgan had said Ghost would respond to verbal commands, but she hadn’t realized it would extend to more conversational inquiries. Stroking his mane, she looked rather nervously up at his back. It seemed a long way off the ground.

“I think I’m going to need a boost. What can I use to mount you?” she muttered, looking around the shed.

Mechanical joints hummed and she looked back to realize that Ghost had gone down on his front knees.

“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

She scrambled awkwardly up on his back and as soon as she was in the saddle, he rose back to his feet. Clutching his mane, she gulped nervously.

“Don’t throw me off, boy. I’m new at all this.”

Remembering what Morgan had done, she nudged him carefully with her knees, but he didn’t move. She seemed to have better luck with voice commands.

“Walk outside, please, Ghost.”

He started forward and she gave a delighted laugh, but then he stopped once they were outside of the shed.

“Okay, now we want to walk towards the far corner of the claim where we were yesterday.”

Shocked when he actually started walking again, she leaned forward and patted his neck. “Such a good boy.”

They made their way steadily across the valley floor and while it wasn’t quite as exciting as her trip with Morgan, she would still have enjoyed the ride if she weren’t so worried. For once, the constant Martian winds had died down and the warmth of the pale sun warmed her head and shoulders. Away from the habitat, their land wasn’t much more than a patchwork of dust and rocks, but she could envision what it could become—what it would become for both of them.

As far as she could tell, they were retracing their previous route and her eyes anxiously scanned the land, searching for a tall dark figure, but there was no sign of Morgan. Her anxiety intensified as they grew closer to the edge of the claim and she found the spot where he had left the ATV. Fuck! Where was he?

“Faster, please, Ghost,” she urged, even though her heart was pounding in her chest.

The horse obeyed, taking off at a gallop that flew smoothly over the rough terrain. She clung to his mane for dear life, but she didn’t ask him to slow down until they were almost to the base of the escarpment. After she brought him to a halt, she turned sideways and slipped down Ghost’s flanks.

“Quietly,” she said to herself as much as to him as she crept closer.

Peering around a rocky pillar, she had to bite back a frustrated cry. There was nothing there—no vehicles and certainly no tall cyborg.

“I don’t understand. People don’t just disappear.”

Abandoning her caution, since she could see the site was empty, she walked over to the rock face. It looked exactly the same as it had yesterday. What was she going to do now? Having reluctantly decided that her only alternative was to return to the habitat and call Clint for help, she was just about to mount Ghost again when she heard the distant rumble of an approaching vehicle.

“Someone’s coming,” she whispered, urging Ghost back into the entrance of one of the small canyons along the rear border. He stood patiently as she peered out from their hiding place. A wagon came to a halt next to the rock face and she waited for someone to step out. Instead there was a quiet scraping noise and the rock face began to swing inwards, opening along the crack in the rock to reveal a long, dark tunnel.

Still no one emerged from the wagon, but the back of the vehicle opened. A tall transport mech trundled out of the passageway and reached into the wagon, emerging with a pallet of supplies almost as large as he. The whole thing must be automated, she realized, which meant there would be no one keeping guard, no one to see her if she slipped inside.

She could check and see if Morgan was in there.

“Stay here,” she whispered to Ghost, then headed for the opening. Despite her conviction that there were no humans present, she kept her hand on her gun, the familiar metal reassuring to the touch.

The temperature dropped as soon as she stepped inside the dark opening and she shivered, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light. An unoccupied rover was parked to one side, while a steady parade of robots passed her, unloading the wagon with practiced efficiency. They were moving much more quickly than she had expected. If they finished while she was still inside, she would be trapped unless she could figure out how to work the door. Instead of following her original impulse to charge straight ahead, she turned back to the inside of the doorway, looking for the controls. She had just spotted a metal box that looked promising when she felt the cold barrel of a gun under her ear and heard a familiar voice.

“Ah, Mrs. Lewis,” Quilby drawled. “Somehow I should have known that you’d come poking that long nose of yours where it doesn’t belong. Still, I suppose it saves me a trip.”

He reached around and unfastened her holster, his hand lingering unpleasantly on her body before he cast the gun and holster to one side.

“Where’s Morgan?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. “What have you done with him?”

“Morgan? You mean that machine of yours?” He lowered his gun and took a step back, studying her face. “You know, I think you should see. I’ll take you to him. That way.”

He gestured down the corridor and when she hesitated, he began to raise his gun again. She took a deep breath and went in the direction he indicated. If he was taking her to Morgan, at least they would be together.

The passageway turned a corner and opened up into a huge cavern, so high she could barely make out the roof and stretching into the distance on either side. She stopped in stunned amazement. Directly across from her, an enormous opening looked out over a breath-taking view of the planet. Robots scuttled around busily, and she could clearly make out the beginnings of a town. But this was nothing like New Arcadia. Wide streets ran between what appeared to be large residences and although only a few had been completed so far, they screamed luxury. Gleaming white and spacious, they looked like the pictures of Mars that were so common on Earth. As a final touch, each of the villa like buildings was surrounded by… gardens?

“How did you get those to grow?” she gasped, momentarily forgetting her situation as she gaped at the vibrant patches of green surrounding the buildings.

“Arctic plants. Specially bred for this environment.”

On a closer look, she could see that they weren’t actually the Earth gardens they appeared to be, but the resemblance was remarkable. There were even a few small trees growing here and there.

“Don’t they freeze?” she asked as he made an impatient gesture for her to start moving again.

“Underground heating in the entire complex,” he said shortly.

“I don’t understand. This is going to be beautiful. Why is it so important to keep it a secret? Everyone would love it.”

“Everyone? You mean a bunch of dirty farmers?” He barked out a harsh laugh. “They aren’t getting anywhere near this place.”

“But—”

“Just shut up and get going.”

He shoved her so hard she almost fell, but she bit her lip and kept walking. He forced her to the far end of the finished area, to the entrance of a grey rectangular building. Not even the robots occupied this section of the cavern. She balked at the door and he laughed.

“What are you afraid of?” Quilby smirked at her. “Don’t you want to see your robot?”

“He’s not a robot!”

“He’s a fucking machine. And there’s only one way to treat machines.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll show you. Inside.”

All of her instincts were screaming a warning but if Morgan was truly inside, she wanted to be with him. And with Quilby’s gun at her back, she didn’t have much choice.

She wasn’t sure what she expected to find when she walked through the door, but it certainly wasn’t a tidy office setup, very similar to the administrative office where she had worked on Earth. In fact, the neatly arranged office, the way the desk was organized…

“This was Winthrop’s office, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. He used to come here and play at working,” he sneered. “Oh, don’t look so sad. He was just another rich bastard. The only difference between him and the rest of them is that he wanted to play at being a homesteader so he bought himself a plain little commoner for a wife to help him look the part.”

The words stung a little deeper than she would have liked but she refused to let him see her hurt. “You weren’t exactly in his class, either, Mr. Quilby.”

He laughed. “Oh, I’m going to be rich soon enough, really rich. Let ‘em look down their noses at me then.”

“They will,” she said quietly. “If you’re not born one of them, they’ll never accept you.”

His face darkened and his hand tightened on her arm. “Yeah, well, I’ll be rich enough not to care.”

“You’ll care.” She knew all too well how soul-destroying it was to be so completely out of place. To see a polite smile on someone’s face and know that they would be making cutting remarks about her as soon as she turned her back. The constant little jabs and insults. She suspected that Quilby, with his inflated ego, would find it even harder to bear. But he wasn’t going to listen to her and it wasn’t why they were here.

“Where’s Morgan? You said he was in here.”

“Far door.” He actually let go of her arm as he pointed. The fact that it might be a trap of some kind crossed her mind in the few seconds it took to fly across the room, but she didn’t hesitate. She pushed the door open and froze. Morgan was chained to a metal table, eyes closed, an IV tube running into his arm, and a monitor beeping. Except for the chains, it was horribly reminiscent of her mother’s last days. She wasn’t going to lose him too. She couldn’t.

“Morgan,” she whispered. He hadn’t stirred when she entered the room and he didn’t respond now as she bent over him, tears dripping down on his chest.

“What have you done to him?” she demanded fiercely as Quilby followed her into the room.

“Do you know those chains are titanium?” Ignoring her question, he walked over to the table and yanked on one of them, the cuff digging into Morgan’s flesh. His body jerked but he still didn’t open his eyes. “They have to be to hold one of these fucking robots. That’s how Earth Government used to control them for their experiments.”

“Experiments?” she asked, horrified. He had never mentioned that.

“Not all of them. Mainly just the first ones.” He pressed a button and Morgan’s whole body locked as his muscles went rigid. “Shame he ain’t awake enough to feel that, but we thought it better to keep him under.”

“We?”

“Let’s just say my business associates.”

He pressed the button again. Even though Morgan was unconscious, his body shook and his face contorted in a rictus of pain.

“Stop that! Don’t hurt him, please. What do you want?” Tears still streamed down her face as she faced him. Her desire to keep her homestead, to claim her land, seemed meaningless now compared to having Morgan back with her. “Do you want the claim? I’ll sign it over right now.”

Quilby shook his head. “It’s a little too late for that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know about the entrance, not to mention this place.” He gave her a slow, evil grin. “I’m afraid you’re going to have an unfortunate accident. We’ll get the claim back anyway.”

Terror spiked her heartbeat, but she kept her head high. “Morgan will never let you get away with that. As soon as he gets out of here, he’ll come after you.”

“He’s never getting out of here,” he said with a cold finality that sent chills down her spine.

“I don’t believe you. And even if he doesn’t get away, they’ll look for him. You can’t just make a ranger disappear.”

“Sure I can. Driven mad with grief at your death, he’ll ride off into the desert, never to be seen again.” He assumed a pious look. “I won’t even make your accident his fault.”

“No one is going to believe that story!” she cried.

He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t they? Accidents happen all the time on Mars. The death toll is really quite shocking.” The false casual air disappeared. “Now come along with me.”

“No! Why did you even bring me here?”

His face hardened. “Because I wanted you to know what you did. You should have given up the fucking claim and gone to work on your back like I told you. You caused this and I want you to think about the hell he’s going to endure while you’re dying.”

“No!”

She darted around the far side of the lab table. When he scowled and came after her, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find—a bottle of water—and threw it at him. He ducked and swore as it caught his temple, and she took advantage of the distraction to turn off the medicine pumping through the IV. If it was keeping Morgan unconscious, maybe waking him up would give him a fighting chance.

Quilby advanced on her and she threw another bottle, but this time he ducked and kept coming, his face dark with rage.

“Enough of that, you skinny bitch.”

She saw him raise his fist but she couldn’t get out of the way in time. The impact to her jaw sent a shockwave of pain through her system and the world went black.

Chapter Twenty

When Hattie regained consciousness, the whole side of her face throbbed and it took a moment before she could focus enough to see Quilby leaning over her. They were no longer in the cavern and she was lying on the ground, her body weak and unresponsive, while his face swam in and out against the Martian sky.

“I-I can’t move.” Even her tongue felt thick and unwieldy.

“A little something from our pharmaceutical division—a short term paralysis which leaves no trace. Not usually fatal, unless, of course, someone has a pre-existing heart condition.”

“W-Winthrop?” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

“He was no longer a team player. All he had to do was manage the fucking construction project and keep his mouth shut. Instead, he got cold feet and started talking about doing the right thing,” he scoffed. “We had no choice but to eliminate him. Of course, at the time we thought removing you wouldn’t be much of a problem, but he protected you better than we anticipated.”

“B-bastard,” she whispered.

He sneered down at her. “Soon to be a very rich bastard.”

Without waiting for a response, he started positioning her limp body, his hands lingering unpleasantly on her flesh.

“W-what are you doing to me?”

“Preparing you for your tragic death. Although…” He leaned closer and squeezed her breast, hard, sending a spike of pain shooting through her slack body. She tried to fight him, but her arms were too weak to do more than flail helplessly.

“You’re such an uppity little bitch that I really wish I could teach you a lesson.” He squeezed again, then thankfully lifted his hand. “Still, don’t want to confuse the autopsy report. Just another unfortunate accident. Goodbye, Mrs. Lewis.”

To her horror, he bent over and kissed her, forcing a thick red tongue so far into her mouth that she gagged. It wasn’t until he pulled away that she realized why he’d been able to do it and why her head was spinning.

“M-my m-mask!”

“Missing, I’m afraid.” He pulled his own back down over his face. “It will be found later, clogged with dust. You really should take better care of your things.”

He turned and began to walk away. “But don’t worry. You won’t be alone. I’m just going to sit here in the shade with my nice bottle of water and watch you die.”

His words made her realize how thirsty she was, her mouth dry except for the loathsome remnants of his saliva. The pale sun beat down on her.

I have to get up. I have to move.

She tried to roll over, to work her way to her knees but her body wouldn’t obey her commands.

“Morgan…” she whispered as her eyes fluttered closed.

A sense of urgency forced its way into Morgan’s unconscious mind, and he awoke in a state of panic. Although an IV had been inserted in his arm, the debilitating medication no longer surged through his system and only an icy coldness remained. He tried to sit up, but chains fastened to his wrists halted him.

Chains? He had been chained to a metal table. Why the fuck had Quilby done that?

A further look around revealed that he was in some kind of lab—one that bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the one that had turned him into a cyborg. A shiver ran up his spine as he surveyed the room and the array of horribly familiar equipment surrounding him. At least this lab wasn’t teeming with scientists anxious to perform their tests.

Yanking at his bonds, he realized that the chains were made of titanium. Without the drug invading his system, he probably could still break them, but it would take time and he had a feeling that he had none to spare. The need for haste tugged at him.

As he methodically tested his shackles for weaknesses, a fierce grin twisted his lips. Fucking idiot. While the chains were titanium, the table they were attached to was not. Steel he could handle. He pulled steadily on one length with his cybernetic arm until he heard metal groan, then gave a sharp, hard yank. The chain came flying out of the broken steel buckle. He had never been more grateful for his cybernetic parts. Once he had a free hand, he made short work of the other restraints before removing the IV.

As soon as he was free, a quick search through the lab drawers revealed the key and he removed the cuffs before he inspected the rest of his surroundings. The room was eerily silent and he couldn’t detect any noise from the other side of the door either. He extended his senses, searching for any other presence, and caught Hattie’s scent.

She had been here; he was sure of it. And the only other scent he could detect: Quilby.

Rage and fear vied for dominance. What had that bastard done with her? If she had seen him on the table, he knew that she would never have left him willingly. He had to find her. Abandoning his caution as the sense of urgency flared again, he charged into the next room only to find an innocuous office space.

All he cared about was that the room was empty. The need to hurry was beating at him, urging him on. He flung open the door and found—a partially built city? Construction robots zoomed around busily, very similar to the ones he had supervised when building the power plants, but these were focused on more domestic endeavors. Where the hell was he?

He surveyed the far away roof and the wide opening overlooking a crater and realized that he must be inside the escarpment. No wonder they needed the constant influx of supply wagons. Although he could see several of the massive 3D printers producing building panels, it would take a vast quantity of material to construct a town of this size.

Other than the robots, he couldn’t see any signs of human life. Unless someone was inside one of the half-completed buildings…

“Hattie!” he yelled, throwing caution to the winds in his desperation to find his woman. His voice echoed out across the vast cavern.

There was no response.

No one emerged from any of the buildings and the robots continued on their self-appointed rounds. Even if she had been unable to respond, he didn’t think Quilby would have ignored him. His heart sank. She wasn’t here. But where was she?

Morgan found the central passageway into the cavern—being sculpted on this side into an elegant archway. He ran for the entrance. Just before he reached it, the gleam of metal half-concealed against the wall caught his eye. He pulled it out to reveal Hattie’s holster and gun.

Fuck! She had definitely been here, and she would never have voluntarily given up her gun. Buckling it around his waist, he hurried on.

No vehicles waited when he emerged into the pale sunlight and he swore violently. He would be traveling on foot and he had no idea which way to go. As the sound of his voice echoed across the rock, Ghost appeared from one of the surrounding canyons.

“What are you doing here? Dammit! Hattie rode you out here after me, didn’t she?”

At the sound of Hattie’s name, Ghost stepped closer, nudging him with his head.

“I know, boy. We have to find her.”

He mounted, then paused in indecision. Where to begin? The dusty surface held the same confused jumble of tracks as it had before, no new marks standing out from the rest. Should he head towards town or to the homestead? Or did Quilby have some other hideaway? Trying to ignore the panic gnawing at his insides, he forced himself to think. Although the town held the GenCon offices, the same reasoning applied as to why the man wouldn’t take Hattie there. There were too many prying eyes to make it safe, even if Quilby had rendered her unconscious.

Now that Quilby thought Morgan was out of the way, the homestead would give him privacy if he was trying to force Hattie to turn over the claim. Despite the best efforts of his nanites to regulate his body, his pulse raced and his stomach churned at the thought of what that persuasion might entail.

Homestead first, he decided and tried to turn Ghost in that direction. For the first time ever, the horse balked at his command.

“Dammit. I don’t have time for this,” he muttered as he started a quick diagnostics check. “I have to go after Hattie.”

Before he could complete the check, Ghost started off along the canyon wall. He swore again as he tried to turn the horse but the animal refused to respond. Just as he was reaching for the shut off switch, he looked down and saw the tracks. Rover tracks clearly imprinted in the dust. They might not be fresh of course—with no rain, tracks remained imprinted in the soil until they were obliterated by the wind or a dust storm—but given Ghost’s odd behavior, he was prepared to take the chance.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

He signaled for more speed and the horse took off, flying over the desert. From what he could see beneath the horse’s flying hooves, he was following the tracks. The rhythm of the hoof beats echoed the pounding of his heart, the same sense of urgency that had haunted him since he regained consciousness increasing with every step. By the time he spotted the rover in the distance, his muscles were stiff with tension.

As soon as he saw the vehicle, he brought Ghost to a halt. He didn’t want to take the chance of alarming Quilby. Dismounting, he led the horse over to one of the smaller canyons and left him there while he took off on foot, running along the rocky boundary at a speed no human man could have matched. Why the fuck had that bastard brought her out here?

As he drew closer, he saw Quilby sitting in the shade of the vehicle and leaning against one of the rover’s big tires with a bottle in his hand like a man on a picnic. What was he doing? And where was Hattie?

He crept closer, moving silently next to the rocks. Then, as soon as he got close enough, he took off at a run. Moving almost too fast for a human to see, he raced across open space between them and snatched Quilby up by the neck, holding him at arm’s length to avoid the chance of another needle.

“Where is she?”

“You’re too late, machine,” Quilby gasped, his face turning red.

“No!” he cried, shaking the man like a captured rodent. Agony washed over him. He couldn’t go back to the cold, meaningless existence he had before her.

Quilby choked out a laugh, his hands scrabbling at Morgan’s where they gripped his throat. “Let me go… and I’ll… tell you where… to find… the body,” he wheezed.

“No! I don’t believe you. Where is she?”

The bastard tried to keep his face rigid, but his eyes flicked over Morgan’s left shoulder for the briefest instance. He whirled in that direction. Hattie was sprawled across the ground not thirty feet away, her body still.

“No!” With an agonized cry, he threw the man aside, disregarding the crack of a broken bone as he raced for her.

Her beautiful eyes were closed, her lips parted as if she were calling for him. He cupped her cheek to find her skin still warm and then he realized he was touching her naked skin.

“Her mask. What did you do with her breathing mask, you bastard?”

He turned to find Quilby clutching his arm as he tried to climb to his feet. He started to babble something as Morgan approached, but he ignored him, snatching the mask off and racing back to Hattie to pull it over her head. Adjusting it to maximum oxygen, he searched frantically for a pulse.

There! Faint and erratic but beating. How long had she been without supplemental oxygen? If it had been too long, she could have suffered permanent brain damage. He rocked her in his arms, praying to any power in the universe to bring her back to him just as she had been.

“Please, Hattie, please wake up.”

She moaned, and then her eyes fluttered open. “Morgan?”

“I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

“Quilby… The cavern…”

“Ssh. It’s all right. He’s not going to get away with it.”

He turned to check on the bastard and found him gasping for breath, trying to crawl towards the rover with his broken arm dangling uselessly.

“W-what…”

“Hush now. Don’t try and talk. Just breathe.”

“Y-you came.”

“Of course I did. I was terrified that I wouldn’t find you.”

“How did you?” Her breath was coming more easily now and the color returning to her face.

“Ghost, if you can believe it. He wanted to head in this direction and then I saw the tracks of Quilby’s rover.”

A faint smile tipped her lips. “He’s definitely getting a stable now.”

“He can have whatever he wants,” he agreed, then pulled her closer. “Fuck, I was so scared. I thought I’d lost you.”

Her arm trembled as she lifted it to return his embrace. “I know what you mean. When I saw you in that lab…” She shuddered. “What did he want with you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just to torture me.”

“Thank God it’s over.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Quilby said.

Chapter Twenty-One

Morgan whirled in the direction of the voice, automatically pushing Hattie behind him. Quilby stood in front of him, gun drawn. The bastard must have managed to make his way to the rover. A breathing mask was in place once more and although his left arm hung limp at his side, he had a firm grip on the gun. His face was red with rage.

“I tried to do this the easy way, but you wouldn’t fucking cooperate. I’m tired of this shit. You’re both going to die. I don’t care how valuable you are, you fucking machine.”

“No!” Hattie cried, and he tugged her closer against him, shielding her with his body.

“You can’t make it look like an accident if you kill us both,” he said.

“I don’t give a shit anymore. Besides, I have an even better idea. I think you raped her and killed her. Then, in a fit of remorse, you killed yourself.”

“No one would believe that,” Hattie protested, and he patted her side, urging her silently to remain quiet.

“Wouldn’t they? No one trusts the fucking machines. Hell, an incident like that might even get Earth Government to do away with the whole ranger program. Always sticking their noses in where they don’t belong.”

“No doubt GenCon would be willing to provide a security force,” he said dryly, trying to distract the man while he came up with a plan that wouldn’t put Hattie in danger.

“For the right price,” Quilby agreed.

Hattie’s hand crept down his thigh and he realized she was heading for the gun in the holster still wrapped around his waist. So far, Quilby was focused on him and he needed to keep it that way.

“Your scenario will never work. There is nothing you could do to make me hurt her.”

Quilby gave him an evil grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of that part. I know how to rig it up afterwards so that it’ll look like you did it.”

“Any ranger would be able to tell you faked the scene.” Hattie’s hand reached the butt of the gun as he tried desperately to keep the man talking.

“Who’s going to believe them?” Quilby grinned again. “Just protecting one of their own. I’ll have GenCon scientists swear that it happened just the way I said. The only part I’ll regret is that you won’t be alive to see me take your woman, to watch me make her scream and beg.”

“I’d never give you the satisfaction,” Hattie said fiercely as she pulled out the gun in one smooth move and aimed it at Quilby. Morgan kept his position in front of her, poised to leap if Quilby made a move.

The other man looked startled, then sneered down at her. “You’ll never pull that trigger. None of you settlers have the guts to use a gun—all you know how to do is shoot at a holographic target.”

“I’m quite prepared to shoot you, Mr. Quilby.” Her voice was calm, even though he could feel her trembling.

“Then you better do it, because I’ve had enough of this shit.”

Morgan saw Quilby’s gun hand start to rise. He threw himself in front of Hattie just as Quilby pulled the trigger. Almost simultaneously, a second shot echoed in his ears and he saw a crimson bloom appear on Quilby’s chest before he collapsed to the ground. A searing pain ran up his side but he ignored it, frantically turning to check on Hattie. She was staring at the still smoking gun in her hand, a dazed look on her face.

“I shot him.”

“Yes, you did,” he said gently. “And it was an excellent shot, sweetheart.”

“I told you I knew how to take care of myself,” she said, her voice trembling.

He started to reach for her, and another bolt of pain shot through him. Well, fuck. He’d been shot.

Her eyes widened in panic. “Oh my God, Morgan, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s fine,” he tried to reassure her. “Just a flesh wound.”

His nanites were already rushing to the area, sealing off the blood vessels to stop the bleeding and beginning to knit the flesh back together. But their focus on the wound, combined with the lingering effects of the drug, left him feeling unusually weak.

“We need to get you to a medic,” she said frantically.

“It’s already healing. Just get me home.”

“You can’t ride in that condition. Can you climb into the rover?”

“Of course,” he said confidently, but when he rose to his feet he swayed dizzily.

Hattie immediately placed herself under his arm, helping to brace him. He managed to make it to the rover, but he was shaking by the time he climbed in, heat rushing through his veins.

“You’re so hot,” Hattie exclaimed as she helped him sit.

“Part of the healing process,” he gasped.

“Are you sure you don’t need a medic?”

“I’m sure.” His surroundings wavered as his vision started to dim.

“If you insist.” She started the rover, then hesitated. “I forgot. Where’s Ghost?”

“Behind that next outcropping,” he whispered. “Going to… sleep now. Don’t… worry.”

And he gave into the darkness.

Hattie tried not to panic as Morgan slumped against the seat, his eyes closed. He had said he was going to sleep, and she had seen for herself how quickly he could heal. He might even be better by the time they reached the habitat. He’d better be, she thought, surveying his big body. There was no way she could lift him down from the rover by herself.

Driving slowly along the canyon walls, she reached the outcropping he had indicated and found Ghost pacing back and forth next to the big rock.

“There you are,” she said with relief.

At the sound of her voice, Ghost picked up his head, then pranced over to the rover. She unsealed the door and leaned out.

“Can you follow us home, Ghost?”

Of course, he couldn’t respond but he turned and placed himself next to the vehicle. When she started up again, he easily kept pace and she breathed a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about.

Morgan still hadn’t moved by the time she pulled into the vehicle shed and shut the doors behind the rover. Leaning over, she stroked his face anxiously.

“Morgan, are you all right? Come back to me, love.”

His eyes gradually opened, dazed at first, then clearing at the sight of her face.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“You’re not fine. You have a hole in your side.”

He probed it cautiously and winced. “It’s not quite as healed as I hoped, but it will be.”

“Can you get out of the rover on your own?”

“Of course I can.”

Despite his confident words, he still swayed as he reached the ground and she tucked herself under his arm to support him as he lowered himself onto the rover’s step.

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “Just a little shaky. I suspect that the remains of the drug in my system are slowing down my healing.”

“What was that stuff?”

She wiggled onto the step next to him, taking comfort in the warmth and strength of his body.

“One of the compounds they used to control us,” he said bitterly. “It freezes our nanites so we can’t heal. Our cybernetic parts don’t function as well and our strength is compromised.”

“How horrible.”

“The worst part is the sense of helplessness. But even though it’s effective, it doesn’t stay in our systems long. I’m glad Quilby was fool enough to turn it off.”

“He didn’t. I did.” She giggled at his expression. Attracted by the sound, Ghost meandered over and dropped his nose on her shoulder so she patted his head.

“How did you do that?” Morgan asked.

“I threw a bottle at him, then turned it off while he was distracted. Unfortunately, I know a lot about how IVs work.” The familiar pain washed over her at the thought of her mother, but she suspected that her mother would be very happy that she had found someone to love.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

He hugged her and she nestled closer, the three of them sitting quietly together until at last he sighed and stretched cautiously.

“That’s better. Come along, sweetheart, we have work to do.”

“The chickens are calling,” she said ruefully.

“A homesteader’s work is never done,” he agreed, then smiled at her. “But we can handle it.”

He stood with a little less than his usual grace and turned to give her a hand. She ignored it and rose to her feet.

“I don’t want you making that any worse,” she scolded.

“It really is fine.” He looked out the big doors at the sun slowly sinking into the horizon. “I think it’s too late to ride into town today. Let’s get the chores done and I’ll make some calls.”

“You need to rest—I’ll take care of the chores. Why don’t you go take a bath? That is, if it won’t hurt your wound.”

“It won’t but it’s not quite sealed and I’m not going to contaminate the bath water. We’ll both do the chores and then after supper, we’ll take a bath. Together.”

He winked at her and she shook her head at him.

“You’re hopeless. Just please take it easy?”

“I will,” he promised, and they went to work.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Hattie, wake up.” Morgan’s urgent voice penetrated a very pleasant dream she was having about the previous night. Despite his injury, he had proven very creative, first in the tub, and then in the bed.

“What is it?” she mumbled.

“Vehicles approaching.”

“They’re taking more supplies to the cavern?” Still half-asleep, she didn’t understand his concern.

“No. They are headed here.”

Her sleepiness disappeared at once. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know, but they aren’t wasting any time. Please get dressed. Just in case.”

“In case what?” she asked, but he was already gone.

Dressing quickly, she went to find him. He was standing in front of the windows in the main dome, watching a cloud of dust approach from the direction of town. He had dressed as well, his gun fastened around his waist and his ranger star gleaming on his chest.

“I can’t see well enough to tell who it is,” she said quietly.

“GenCon.” He didn’t take his eyes off of the oncoming vehicles. “A rover and a wagon.”

“A wagon. Why would they bring a wagon?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” He turned to her. “You should take Ghost and leave. Ride back into the canyons until this is over.”

“Until what is over?” she cried.

“I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling.”

“Morgan, the hours I spent waiting for you to come back yesterday were the longest hours of my life. I don’t want to be separated from you again. Whatever is coming, we will face it together.” She buckled on her own gun, then put her hand in his.

“All right, Hattie.” He tugged her closer against his side. “I don’t want to have to search for you again either.”

The vehicles drew to a halt, the gleaming GenCon white smeared with orange dust. The door to the rover opened and a mountainous man descended.

“Is he a cyborg?” she whispered.

“He’s wearing a breathing mask so I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find he was taking some type of enhancement drug,” he said grimly.

After a suspicious glance around, the big man turned back to the rover and carefully helped a woman down. Hattie gaped at her in astonishment. The strange woman looked like a wealthy stockholder about to step into a board meeting. An obviously expensive navy pantsuit was perfectly tailored to her slim frame, her hair was exquisitely cut, and her high-heeled pumps gleamed. Even the small breathing mask looked custom designed.

“Mrs. Lewis. May I speak to you?” she called.

“We can’t ignore her. Do you want to talk in here or out there?” Morgan asked.

“I don’t want them in our home.”

“Very well. Let’s go.”

He pulled on his duster and helped her into her coat. They emerged from the airlock to find the woman waiting patiently, now flanked by two of the giant men. Morgan took up a similar position at Hattie’s side.

“Mrs. Lewis. I am Serena Gatling, Managing Director of GenCon Product Development.”

The woman’s low, pleasant voice caught Hattie off guard, but then she looked at her eyes. Although they were perfectly accented with discreet makeup, the blue shone flat and cold. Hattie had never seen anyone with eyes so dead. A shiver shot down her spine.

“That was Winthrop’s position,” she managed to say.

“Exactly. I don’t know how much he told you about his work here…”

“Very little,” she said honestly. “He said that the company wanted him to homestead a claim while he was checking on some things for them.”

“And that’s all?” Serena’s body relaxed almost imperceptibly.

“Yes.”

“I see. I’m afraid we’re in a rather awkward position. You see, this land was specifically chosen because of its proximity to the escarpment.” She gestured gracefully at the towering rock wall on the horizon.

“Why?” she asked bluntly.

“It’s a site of great scientific interest.” Serena lied so smoothly that Hattie wouldn’t have hesitated to believe her if she hadn’t seen for herself what the rock contained.

“That’s nice,” she said neutrally, and the other woman’s eyes narrowed a fraction.

“As a result, I’m afraid we really need to take possession of this claim.”

“And I’m afraid that it’s not available. It is my claim, registered in my name.”

“We are prepared to offer you a much larger replacement parcel.”

“No, thank you.”

“I don’t think you quite understand, Mrs. Lewis. This land rightfully belongs to GenCon.”

“No, Ms. Gatling. You don’t understand. This claim was legally granted to Mrs. Lewis by Earth Government.” Morgan stepped forward, letting his duster swing open to show his badge. “It belongs to her, no matter what you think.”

Serena’s eyes flicked to his badge, then to his face. Her two bodyguards tensed.

“I really do not want this to become an unpleasant situation.”

“Like the last GenCon representative?” Hattie asked dryly.

The woman gave a slight shudder. “Quilby was a horrible man. He overstepped his bounds.”

Hattie suspected that her disgust was genuine. No, Quilby would never have fit in amongst the wealthy elites he longed to join.

Serena looked speculatively at Morgan. “I understand we have you to thank for returning his body?”

He shrugged. “I made the arrangements.”

He had? When? Perhaps that was what his calls had been about last night.

“We seem to be at somewhat of an impasse.” The coldness in her eyes intensified. “But I assure you, I always get my way.”

The bodyguards made a half-step forward and Morgan’s hand dropped to his gun. Hattie followed suit, praying her hand wouldn’t shake.

“I will make one last attempt to settle this peacefully,” Serena said calmly. “I want this land.”

“You can’t have it,” Hattie said, her voice firm.

The woman flicked a finger and there was a faint whirring sound. The back of the wagon was being lowered. Hattie had a sudden horrible conviction that she didn’t want to know what was back there. Instinctively, she moved closer to Morgan.

“I don’t think you want to be doing that, missy.” A gravelly voice interrupted the tension.

Hattie barely managed not to jump. S-756 appeared from around the side of the habitat, mounted on a dark metallic horse, and looking like the embodiment of judgment day.

“And who might you be?” Serena asked.

Hattie had to give the woman credit. She hadn’t flinched at the Judge’s sudden appearance and her voice was as cool and unperturbed as ever.

“I am the Judge. I am the one who can bring hell on Mars to GenCon.”

“Oh, really?” Serena’s perfectly painted lips quirked up at the corners. “You seem to be rather… solitary to wreak such havoc.”

“Oh, I’m not alone.”

The Judge whistled and more cyborgs appeared. Clint came riding around the other side of the habitat while at least a dozen more surrounded the GenCon vehicles. Serena lost her smile.

“But that’s not actually what I was referring to. Based on the actions of your Mr. Quilby, I can bring enough lawsuits to keep GenCon tied up in court for years.”

For the first time, Serena’s polite veneer cracked. Rage flashed behind those cold blue eyes before she smoothed her face. “I see.”

“I’m glad you do. Mrs. Lewis and this claim are under my protection—under all of our protection. You will leave it alone.” It was an order.

Serena inclined her head slightly, but the rage still flickered in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let it drop. Impulsively, Hattie stepped forward.

“You want access to the escarpment, right? For its… scientific value?”

“Yes.”

“I—” she flicked a quick glance at Morgan “—we are willing to sell you a ten-foot-wide strip along the far boundary of the claim. You can use that to access the site.”

“Fifteen feet. We will want to build a wall.”

Hattie glanced over her shoulder at Morgan again. He nodded.

“All right,” she said.

“That is acceptable,” Serena agreed, and some of the tension seeped out of the air. “I will send over the paperwork.”

“I think I would prefer to meet you in town. At my lawyer’s office.”

Another brief quirk of her lips and Serena inclined her head. She headed back to the rover, turning back before she climbed in. “I consider us to have a verbal agreement. Please do not try and back out.”

“I keep my word,” Hattie said quietly.

A sharp nod, then Serena let one of the bodyguards assist her into the rover. The GenCon vehicles departed without another word and Hattie sagged in relief.

“Can’t say much for your choice in neighbors.” The Judge dismounted and Clint joined him. The rest of the cyborgs tipped their hats to her and rode away.

“Where are they going? I wanted to thank them.”

“Got work to do. Can’t spend all day babysitting you,” S-756 said gruffly.

Clint winked at her from behind the Judge’s back. “The settlement ship landed early this morning.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” She shook her head. “This little visit threw me off completely. How did you know they were coming?”

“Didn’t know,” the Judge said shortly. “M-231 suspected when he saw GenCon representatives on the passenger roster.”

She frowned at Morgan. “You didn’t say anything to me.”

“It was just a guess. I hoped that I was being overly cautious.”

“I’m glad you were.” She smiled up at him, then turned to find the Judge watching them. “Thank you again for coming to help.”

“It’s my job,” he said gruffly. “Should have known a bunch of fucking humans would be up to no good.”

“I apologize for all the trouble we have caused you.”

“You ain’t too bad,” he admitted.

“Would you like to come inside and have some coffee? Or some breakfast?”

An expression that looked like longing crossed his face, but he shook his head. “Got work to do. Take today off, M-231, but I want you in town tomorrow. These new settlers are worse than the last ones.” He tipped his hat to Hattie and rode off without another word.

She sighed. “I wish he would’ve stayed. I think he’s lonely.”

Both males stared at her but she ignored the disbelieving looks. No matter how much S-756 might rage against humans, he was still one of them.

“Do you want some breakfast, Clint?”

“No, thanks. I have a shift in town to finish before I can head home.”

“Thank you so much for coming. And tell everyone else how grateful we are.”

“I will.” He, too, tipped his hat and left.

She sagged against Morgan. “Well, that was a hell of a way to begin the day.”

“I suspect I can think of a better one,” he said, sweeping her up in his arms.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head in mock doubt. “You’re going to have to work pretty hard to top last night.”

“Challenge accepted,” he growled.

Hattie laughed up at him and then he saw her breath catch as she studied his face. Adrenaline flooded his system, despite the efforts of his nanites to control it. The encounter with Serena Gatling had disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. He knew a killer when he saw one and he had no doubt that she would have disposed of both of them quickly, ruthlessly, and without the slightest hint of regret. Even though he would rather have her on the far side of the planet, he was glad Hattie had made the deal. He didn’t want another war.

“I need you,” he said urgently as he carried her inside.

“You have me.”

“I want more.”

As soon as they were through the airlock, he set her down and started stripping off her clothes. Her eyes widened at his haste, but she didn’t protest as he revealed her naked body, pale and glowing in the morning light. She started to lead him to the bedroom but he stopped her.

“No. Here. Overlooking our land.”

He picked her up again and carried her over to the windows. Her legs circled his waist and he could already feel the damp heat of her cunt against his stomach, but he wanted her hotter, wetter. He pulled her tighter against him and dove into her mouth, demanding her response. She moaned and gave him what he wanted. The taut peaks of her nipples rubbed against his chest and he dragged his mouth away from the sweetness of her lips, lifting her higher against the glass so he could feast on the stiff little peaks. She tried to arch closer, seeking more, but he held her motionless, relishing her need, her response, as his own arousal increased to a throbbing, demanding ache. His cock jerked in a constant rhythm but she wasn’t ready yet.

He lifted her higher still, bringing her sweet cunt against his mouth, his control almost gone as he licked and sucked, feasting on her delectable flesh as he drove her into two quick, hard climaxes. There. Now she was ready. He lowered her to the ground, turning her to face the window and positioning her hands on the glass.

“Don’t move,” he warned as he spread her legs apart, then drove up into her in one long shuddering stroke. He didn’t pause, didn’t wait for her to adjust, just kept moving, thrusting in and out with a ruthless rhythm as she cried out another climax, her cunt fluttering wildly around his cock. Bent over in front of him like this, her lush ass turning pink from the urgency of his thrusts, framed against their land, their home, she was everything he had ever wanted. Her hair tumbled down her back in wild chaos as she shuddered and tried to push back against him, but he was holding her too tightly.

He adjusted his hands, the human one sliding down in front to press against her clit with each plunge while his cybernetic hand traced the place where they joined, where his cock stretched her open, gathering their wetness before moving higher to circle the pretty little star of her anus. She shivered as he probed the small entrance, gradually pushing inside, the increased tightness around his cock almost too much to take. He went deeper and she pushed frantically back against him, her clit a hot, swollen nub, and he began to vibrate, sending ripples of ecstasy from back to front, until she cried out and climaxed again, her channel an impossibly tight fist as he thrust himself in to the root and came, his seed leaving him in great pulsing jets as he called out her name.

When he recovered the ability to think, he carefully withdrew and helped her to stand on trembling legs, then carried her to the couch and collapsed with her in his arms.

“You win,” she said between panted breaths. “That was even better than last night.”

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“Only in the very best way. You ought to insure that very talented hand of yours. I never thought…”

“We’ve only begun to explore the possibilities.”

She gave a delighted shiver and smiled up at him.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why in here?”

“Because I could see it all at once—the beautiful woman I love, the home we are building together, the land we are transforming. I know it’s not always going to be an easy life, but you have made me happier than I ever thought I deserved to be.”

“I never thought I would be this happy either.” Her face turned serious as she lifted a hand to his cheek. “But Morgan, I would give up the home and the land in a minute as long as it meant I could still have you. Everything else can be replaced. You can’t.” A shadow crossed her face. “I told Quilby he could have the claim if he let you go. He just laughed.”

“You were going to give up the claim for me?” He stared at her, his chest aching. “But this is your dream.”

“No. You are my dream. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Overcome with emotion, all he could do was pull her close as they watched the sun rising higher above their land, their future. Together.

Epilogue

One month later

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” Hattie muttered to Jo as she adjusted her dress for the tenth time.

“Maybe because it’s your wedding day?”

“I was nervous for all of mine,” Cherry volunteered and they both stared at her. She was reclining on Hattie’s bed wearing a simple blue dress with only minimal makeup, but she still looked ridiculously glamourous.

“How many times were you married?” Jo asked.

“Three times. Once for love, once for money, and once because I am a fool.” A shadow crossed her face but then she laughed and the sorrow disappeared. “But this is your day, not mine.”

“Well, this is the last time I’m getting married,” Hattie declared. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” Jo said, looking up at her with tears in her eyes.

“You do look lovely, my dear.” Cherry rose gracefully, then came over to arrange the small wreath of real flowers in Hattie’s hair. They had been one of her gifts to the bride and Hattie couldn’t even imagine how expensive they must have been. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.” She smiled at her friends. “I can’t wait.”

“Sit down, boy, and balance your system. You’re making me dizzy,” S-756 growled. He had very reluctantly agreed to administer the marriage ceremony, even though there was nothing legally binding about the procedure. Cyborgs were not allowed to marry, any more than they could own property, but he and Hattie had both liked the symbolism of sealing their union with a wedding.

He tried to follow the Judge’s orders but as quickly as his nanites would regulate his breathing, his pulse would speed up.

“You can’t tell me you’re nervous,” Clint said quietly. “I know how much you want this.”

“Of course I do, but what if she changes her mind?”

“She is not going to change her mind. It’s obvious how much she loves you.”

He still found it almost impossible to believe. With her help he had finally accepted that he was both man and machine and neither part was better or worse than the other—and she loved all of him.

The bedroom door opened to reveal Hattie and all of his fears disappeared. She was wearing a long, slim dress that suited her slender frame while the pale green color she had chosen accentuated her beautiful eyes. Her hair was gathered up on her head, baring her graceful neck, and a small wreath of real flowers wound through the soft strands. Unable to stay away from her, he went to her side, taking her hands in his.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but she gave him an admiring glance in return. “So do you.”

For once, he wasn’t wearing black but had chosen to wear white as a symbol of putting away the shadows of the past.

“You were supposed to wait and let her come to you,” Cherry said dryly.

“Why would I make her come to me? I will follow her wherever she goes.”

“Very romantic, if not perhaps traditional.”

“Let’s get started,” S-756 said impatiently.

He exchanged a grin with Hattie before they turned to face him.

“Yes, Judge.”

As they walked back across the room, Jo went to stand hand-in-hand with Clint, with Cherry next to her. There were no other guests.

“Are you sure you want this traditional crap?” S-756 asked.

“Yes, sir.”

He shook his head. “Very well. Dearly beloved…”

When they came to the part where the Judge would ask Hattie to make her vows, Morgan tensed. They’d had a long debate about the wording. The Judge had wanted to say “this cyborg” instead of “this man” but he and Hattie had persuaded him to use the traditional wording.

“Do you, Hattie, take this… man to be your wedded husband?”

She smiled up at him. “I do.”

A sense of peace settled over him. He had managed to reconcile the two parts of himself and he had found a woman who accepted all of him.

When S-756 said he could kiss the bride, he swept Hattie into his arms, kissing her with every ounce of love and devotion in his soul. The room broke out in cheers.

After the ceremony, all of them sat down to a feast prepared from their own homestead. Hattie had even agreed to sacrifice a chicken for the occasion, although he had been the one to actually do the deed. As the meal wound to a close, he rose to his feet.

“I would like to propose a toast to my beautiful bride. To Hattie!”

“To Hattie!”

Even the Judge raised his glass.

“Mars has not always been kind to us,” he said, looking at Clint and the Judge, “but it was worth every minute to be where I am now. And I suspect that it is changing us as much as we are changing it. To Mars!”

“To Mars!”

The guests departed after the wedding lunch, all of them smiling and happy for them. Even the Judge’s face seemed to relax when Hattie reached up and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you. This means so much to us.”

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t be expecting me to do this again.”

She laughed. “I don’t. I’ve found the love of my life.”

As soon as the door closed, he swept her into his arms. “I thought they’d never leave, Mrs. Gentry.” Pronouncing her new name filled him with satisfaction.

“You did not. You enjoyed it every bit as much as I did.”

“Perhaps. But I enjoy being alone with my beautiful bride even more.”

“What are you going to do with her, now that you have her alone?” she asked innocently.

“I am going to worship every inch of her as the goddess she is.”

“Hold that thought,” she said and wiggled out of his arms.

“Where are you going?”

“Cherry gave me another wedding present.” Her eyes were alight with mischief. “A little something for our wedding night. Or wedding afternoon, in this case.”

“I don’t need anything except you, naked in my arms.”

“Maybe not, but I think you’ll like it. Wait here.” She whisked out of the room.

Fighting the impulse to follow her, he impatiently removed his shirt, then caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. His cybernetic arm gleamed, drawing his eye, but it no longer bothered him. It wasn’t just a symbol of his past; it was part of his future.

“What do you think?” Hattie asked, her voice low and seductive.

She stood poised in the doorway and with one look, all the blood in his body rushed to his cock. She was still wearing pale green, but this was nothing like her wedding dress. A sheer lace robe tied loosely at her waist. Beneath it she wore nothing but what looked like a series of green silk straps that cupped her breasts, crisscrossed her stomach, and disappeared between her legs.

“You don’t like it,” she said, her smile fading, and he realized he was still staring.

“I’m afraid that if I move, I will fall upon you like a ravening beast.”

Her smile returned, both playful and seductive. “So I have two options—to be worshipped like a goddess or attacked by a ravening beast?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think… Hm. Yes, definitely, ravening beast. Take me, my husband, I’m yours.”

And with a growl, he crossed the room, ripped away the pretty, erotic outfit, and gave her exactly what she asked for.

“Why do you think they are so insistent on keeping that place a secret?” Hattie asked the next morning.

She was standing in front of the window, coffee mug in hand, looking out across their land to the new wall along the eastern boundary. The first thing GenCon had done once they acquired the property was put up the big barrier between their claim and the track to the cavern.

Serena Gatling had given them a ridiculous amount of money for the small strip of land and had thrown in a much larger strip on the western boundary of their claim. The additional land consisted mainly of small rocky hills, but it had a great southern exposure and she was already wondering if she could grow grapes there.

The other benefit of settling the dispute with GenCon was that Winthrop’s will was no longer being contested. She shuddered to think how much influence the corporation must have if even the obscenely wealthy Lewis family obeyed their commands. While it would still take some time to wind through the legal process, she found she wasn’t particularly concerned about the money. She already had everything she wanted right here.

“You don’t believe it’s because of the scientific value of the escarpment?” Morgan asked dryly as he came up next to her and put his arm around her waist. She snuggled against him, still tingling from their night together. She was definitely going to enjoy married life.

She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s going to be a town, and a good-sized one at that. There’s just something about it that keeps nagging at me.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. All that space, the big houses, the gardens, everything so meticulously planned, but something is missing. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

“There’s no dome,” he said slowly.

“That’s it! But you said it would be ten years or more before humans could walk on the surface without oxygen. Why build a city without a dome?”

“Preparing for the future?”

“You saw how fast it’s going up. It’s certainly not going to take ten years to finish.”

He shrugged. “Do you really care?”

“No, I suppose not.” She grinned up at him. “But my feminine curiosity is aroused.”

His face turned serious. “I want you to stay away from there, Hattie. We already know they’re ruthless enough to kill anyone who gets in their way.”

“You mean you don’t believe that Quilby was a rogue agent, acting on his own behalf?” she asked. That had been Serena’s explanation when the Judge pressed her about the man’s actions.

“Of course not. But he’s gone and they seem willing to take a more diplomatic approach, at least for now, so I don’t want you stirring up any trouble.”

“Me?” she asked, giving him her best innocent look.

“Yes, you.” He bent down and kissed her. “I love you, Hattie. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”

How ironic that just as she had come to terms with the knowledge that she could lose him one day, he had developed the fear of loss. But he would learn, as she had, that what was important was their time together, no matter how long or short. She hugged him, trying to reassure him with her touch.

“I’ve been thinking…” he said slowly.

“About what?”

“About the possibility of having a child. Would you like that?”

“A baby? With you?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I would love that, but I thought you said you couldn’t get me pregnant.”

“I can’t. My seed is not fertile. But I believe that I can adjust my nanites to change that.”

“You don’t think I’m too old?”

“My beautiful wife? Of course not.”

The idea filled her with excitement, but…

“I think it’s a wonderful idea, but I would like to wait a little longer. To have a chance just to be with you, here in our home.”

“Our home,” he echoed, then shook his head. “You are my home, Hattie.”

“And you are mine. As much as I love this place, I’m not worried about losing it anymore. Because as long as I have you, I have everything I could ever want.”

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg! I’m having so much fun exploring this version of Mars with my cyborg cowboys and I hope you are as well. While many of the things I touch on in these books have a scientific basis, I have taken some liberties in order to create the planet of my imagination - where the Wild West meets nanotechnology and love always triumphs!

Whether you enjoyed the story or not, it would mean the world to me if you left an honest review on Amazon - reviews are one of the best ways to help other readers find my books!

As always, I have to thank my readers for all of their support and encouragement! I’m thrilled that so many of you are accompanying me on this journey! And, of course, a special thanks to my beta readers - Janet S, Tammy S, Nancy V, and Kitty S! I couldn’t do it without you!

So what’s next on Mars? S-756 is about to meet a woman from his troubled past – but is it too late for them to find their way back to each other? Find out in A Fistful of Cyborg!

Click here to pre-order A Fistful of Cyborg on Amazon!

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Other Titles

Cyborgs on Mars

High Plains Cyborg

The Good, the Bad, and the Cyborg

A Fistful of Cyborg

The Alien Invasion Series

Alien Selection

Alien Conquest

Alien Prisoner

Alien Breeder

Alien Alliance

Alien Hope

Cosmic Fairy Tales

Jackie and the Giant

The Treasured by the Alien Series

with Bex McLynn

Mama and the Alien Warrior

A Son for the Alien Warrior

The Alien Abduction Series

Anna and the Alien

Beth and the Barbarian

Cam and the Conqueror

Deb and the Demon

Ella and the Emperor

Faith and the Fighter

Greta and the Gargoyle