Defying Death (16 page)

Ada-971 said nothing.

“You aren’t treating her. Oh, no.” Tifara slid her
hand in his. “Death, we have to help.” Her fingers trembled. “Even
a scratch can lead to a lifespan-ending infection.”

“Helping her doesn’t benefit us.” He planned to
return to the three dead males’ camp and raid their supplies. They
should have sufficient nutrition bars to nourish Tifara until they
reached the next viable planet. “It will also put you in
danger.”

“She must be in so much pain.” His female’s eyes
were wide and pleading.

Death jutted his jaw. He wouldn’t relent. To do so
would be a mistake and he’d already made too many of those.

“She’s a female, Death.” Tifara looked up at him.
“She doesn’t have a medic or a big, strong male to protect her.
What if that female were me? What if I was in excruciating pain?
Wouldn’t you help me?”

He’d battle the entire Humanoid Alliance to repair
her damage.

“Death?” A sheen of moisture covered her eyes.

That struck the deciding blow, rendering him
helpless to refuse her. He glared at the clone female, blaming her
for this complication. “Give me your weapons.”

Ada-971 disarmed. Death added her gun and three
small knives to his collection.

“Ada-972 will discard her weapons also.” He barked
instructions. “You’ll leave them outside the cave. I’ll enter
before my female does.” He’d scan the area around them to ensure no
other beings entered the territory. “If you threaten her in any
way, I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, yes, she knows you’ll kill her.” Tifara waved
her hands.

“I saw what you did to the males,” the clone female
confirmed. “You tore Ric-954’s limbs off.”

“He shouldn’t have touched me.” His softhearted
medic defended his lethal actions.

Death looked at her, shocked. Had she accepted the
violence, the killing, that dark, hard part of him?

She ducked under his arm, avoiding his gaze. “I
assume you’re a clone, as Ada-972 is.”

Tifara spoke with the clone female, her voice
lilting with interest, warming with friendship.

She had no sense of caution, trusting every being
she met. A male had threatened to kill her and she had pleaded for
mercy for him.

She was now treating this strange female as a close
friend.

Death shook his head and followed them. They
chattered. He scanned their surroundings while keeping one eye on
Tifara’s swaying ass.

She talked about cloning and genetics, asking
questions about the discovery a being called the original had made.
That breakthrough had allowed the genetic code to be boosted,
solving the deterioration problem that had plagued scientists for
solar cycles.

His female didn’t attempt to be quiet, the heels of
her boots clunking against the sand, her voice carrying over the
landscape. Her gun was tucked in her pocket, the metal handle
reflecting the sunlight.

She trusted him to protect her.

And he would. With his life, if that was needed.

He smelled the cave before he saw the entrance. His
nose twitched. The putrid scent of rotting flesh filled the
air.

Tifara smelled it also. Her top lip curled slightly
and her face paled. Her gaze met his, her eyes wide with a silent
plea.

Her lack of words communicated how rattled she was.
She needed his help.

Death squared his shoulders. “We’ll wait here while
you instruct the damaged female to disarm,” he said to Ada-971,
taking command of the situation.

The clone female looked at Tifara, then at him,
nodded and entered the cave.

As soon as she disappeared from view, Tifara flung
herself into his arms. “Death, the smell.” Her lush form shook. “It
reminds me of the outbreak, of my family, the loss. I was alone
and, the rotting corpses were all around me, staring at me with
wide soulless eyes and—”

“Hush, my female.” He curved his body protectively
around hers, trying to save her from her past. “You’re not that
offspring anymore. You’re a grown female and you have me now.
You’re not alone. You’ll never be alone.”

“I know that stench. It’s the scent of death, of rot
to the bone,” she whispered into his chest. “What if I’m too late?
What if I can’t save her? What if I fail this patient as I’ve
failed others—my mother, my brothers, my friends?”

His female continued to torture herself over past
deaths and that yanked at Death’s heart. “You’re the best medic
I’ve ever met.” He stroked her wild curls, seeking to comfort her.
“If you can’t save this female, I know no being who could.”

“You believe so?” She peeked up at him.

“I know so.” He pressed his lips to her
forehead.

“I’m truly the best medic you’ve ever met?”

“Yes.”

“You think I can do this?”

“I know you can,” he assured her, not knowing
exactly what ‘this’ she was referring to.

“I
am
the best medic you’ve ever met.”
Confidence firmed her voice.

“You are.”

There was a long pause. Death could almost see his
female’s big brain working.

“Wait a moment.” Lines appeared between her
eyebrows. “You’re a cyborg. How many other medics have you
met?”

None. She had been his first.

Ada-971 exited the cave before he had to answer. She
hefted a pack filled with weapons. The females had clearly taken as
much as they could carry when they were exiled.

“This is all of it.” She plunked the pack down by
the entrance. “We will be at your mercy completely.”

“We won’t hurt you,” Tifara spoke for both of
them.

As long as they didn’t threaten her, that would be
the truth.

“Let’s do this.” She clasped his hand.

Knowing how hard this would be for his female, Death
allowed that visible sign of caring, giving her the reassurance of
his touch.

He scanned the interior of the cave. There was only
one lifeform—a female humanoid and she was horizontal, unlikely to
be a threat to his female.

Death walked into the cave with his Tifara. He
ducked, the overhang at the entrance low.

His vision system immediately adjusted to the dimly
lit space. Tifara, being human, stopped, her vision system
requiring more time.

A female lay flat on the stone. Her face was beaded
with sweat, her white hair damp, her lips chapped and bleeding. The
rancid smell originated from her.

“I’m Tifara.” His female snapped her hand coverings,
renewing them. “I’m a medic. This is Death.”

“Death?” Both of the females stared at him.

“He’s not as scary as his name suggests.” Tifara’s
smile didn’t conceal the concern in her eyes.

Death frowned. He
was
as scary as his name
suggested.

“He’ll assist me. As I hope you will also, Ada-971.”
She moved to the damaged female’s side. “Where is her injury?”

“No.” The damaged female continued to stare at him.
“Males cannot look upon a female’s form.” Her fingers twitched,
plucking at her ragged leg coverings. “It is forbidden.”

“We’re exiled, Ada-972,” the other female reminded
her, her voice soft. “The rules no longer apply to us. Even if they
did, I doubt your injury will inspire lust in this young male’s
heart.”

Ada-972 gazed at him, her concern palpable.

“Tifara is my female,” he announced. “She’s the only
being I will ever lust after. I want her and only her to suck my
cock.”

The clone females inhaled sharply. Tifara turned
bright red.

Death didn’t know what he had said wrong. They
talked of lust. He did also.

“Fornication is forbidden.” Ada-972 attempted to
lift her right hand, winced and set it back down on the rock. “It
sullies our genetics and adds impurities to our species.”

“I don’t think he cares,” the other female informed
her. She tugged on the damaged female’s garments. “I should have
stripped her before I gave up my dagger.”

“Males cannot look—”

“We know, Ada-972.” Ada-971 stopped her clone
sister’s protests.

Tifara looked at him, her gaze dropping pointedly to
the dagger strapped to his side. Death hesitated and then handed it
to her.

He would help, but he suspected touching a female’s
form was forbidden also.

Ada-972 continued to watch him, her pain-glazed eyes
filled with worry. He understood her fixation on the rules, had
seen the same fixation in his brethren doomed to be decommissioned.
They’d hoped that adherence to all of the other rules would
compensate for the one they’d broken.

Their hopes had been misplaced. They were always
decommissioned, killed in the most painful way imaginable.

The damaged female’s adherence wouldn’t reverse her
exile either. That was malfunctioning logic.

Death said nothing. He crossed his arms and braced
his booted feet apart, guarding the entrance to the cave, as the
females worked.

“I’m assuming that cloning is your sole means of
reproduction.” His female chattered as she examined her patient.
“How do you decide how many females and how many males will be
cloned?”

“The original decided at the beginning of
existence.” The question temporarily distracted Ada-972. “He knows
all, sees all.”

“Three of each line are cloned.” The other female
ignored her. “That ensures one of the beings lives a full
lifespan.”

“If that one being didn’t defy the rules and join
the other in exile,” Ada-972 grumbled. “I didn’t ask you to make
that sacrifice.”

“You didn’t have to.” Ada-971 bent over and kissed
the damaged female’s dirty forehead. “We have always been together.
We will always stay together.”

“That isn’t possible. I’ll die.”

“You won’t die,” the clone female snapped. “I’ve
found you a medic.”

“Medics are forbidden.”

“Nothing is forbidden. We’re free of all rules.”

The two females nattered back and forth, paying no
attention to Tifara. They didn’t notice when his little medic
uncovered the wound and her face froze. They didn’t hear her
whisper his name.

Death heard her and she didn’t have to ask twice for
him. He rushed at cyborg speed to her side, wrapped an arm around
her waist, steadying her swaying body.

He gazed downward. The original damage, a gash deep
on the clone female’s upper thigh, might have been reparable
several planet rotations ago. Now, the entire leg was rotted,
dead.

Tifara moved more of the female’s garment aside.

Fraggin’ hole. The rot stretched across her hip,
over her stomach.

There was no repairing that. Even a total relay of
his nanocybotics wouldn’t reverse the damage done. They couldn’t
reanimate dead flesh.

The female would die.

“Can you help her?” Ada-971 gazed at his female,
hope in her eyes, expecting Tifara to fix everything, to bring the
being she loved back to full functionality.

Death hadn’t realized the importance of Tifara’s
role. Designed for battle, cyborgs were treated like machines by
the Humanoid Alliance. No one missed them when they died. No one
cried. No one pleaded for one more moment.

Was that still true? He lowered his face and
breathed in the scent of Tifara’s hair. Would his female miss him
if he died?

He wanted to be missed. It wasn’t logical but he
did.

“I’ll help her as much as I can.” His little medic’s
voice was low and soothing, her sadness and frustration detectable
only to him, who knew her so well. “There’s an injector gun in my
pack. The first thing we’ll do is stop her pain.”

“That’s possible?” The female retrieved the
device.

“Yes.”

“Thank the original.” Ada-971 touched the damaged
female’s face. “Do you hear that, Ada-972? Soon, you won’t feel any
pain.”

“At least, I can do
that
for her,” Tifara
muttered.

And he could stay by her side, supporting her as she
dealt with the hopelessness of the situation. Death squeezed her
hips, wishing he could do more.

Tifara worked
on Ada-972, cleaning her wound, trying to slow the rot. The light
faded. The other female built a fire. Tifara continued to labor,
her fingers shaking, and her eyes burning.

Her patient chattered with Ada-971. The two females
smiled and laughed, exchanging stories of their youth. The love
between them was palpable.

Ada-971 had given up everything for her injured
sister and that sister would die. Tifara couldn’t stop it.

“Administer the last pain inhibitor for the planet
rotation,” Death instructed, his voice a low growl.

Tifara obeyed him, which made no sense.
She
was the medic.
She
should be making the decisions. But her
brain had shut down. “I have to—”

“You have to do nothing more.” He scooped her into
his arms. “We’re done for this planet rotation, females. We’ll
return at sunrise.”

“But—”

“There will be no buts.” Her warrior carried her out
of the cave. “You require rest and a nutrition bar. I require a
breeding session. The female feels no pain.”

“She’ll die.” Tifara’s shoulders slumped.

“Yes, she’ll die.”

Part of her wished her cyborg could lie to her but
he was forced to tell the truth. The female would die. She couldn’t
stop it. “I’ve failed another being.”

“You’ve failed no one.” Death’s gait was smooth and
fast. “Every being, including you and me and all of my cyborg
brethren, will die. Your role isn’t to stop your patients from
realizing that fate. That’s an impossible task. Your role is to
give them more moments and that is what you’ve done. The clone
female will spend this rest cycle with the clone sister she
loves.”

“You’re right.” She sighed. “But I’m so tired of
losing beings—my patients, my parents, my brothers, Nymphia,
Safyre—”

“Safyre isn’t dead.”

“What?” She tilted her head back to gaze at his
face. It was as grim as usual. “No.” He didn’t know Safyre and he
didn’t know what happened. “She went to Tau Ceti to rescue Nymphia.
The Humanoid Alliance blew up the planet.”