Zero's Return (74 page)

She swallowed, hard.  Like
she thought his next experiment might be to impregnate her with Huouyt-Human
crossbreeds.  Which, of course, would be utterly awesome if she was interested. 
Slade could definitely handle a few little Sladelings running around, doing
theoretical physics as they played hopscotch and marbles.

Well, maybe not marbles. 
Slade had despised marbles.  He’d never had the dexterity of some of his more
physically-inclined, non-genius classmates, so after trying his first game and
losing—which he hated—he had decided to do something about it.  His simian
companions had offered him other games, practice ‘freebies’ with no penalty for
messing up, but Slade had waved them off and gone home.  Instead of screwing
around trying to practice something as pointless as shooting beads of glass
across an arbitrary line in the dirt, he’d taken a weekend trip to visit his
MIT fanboys and, with their excited blessing, had designed, built, and
programmed a tiny AI robot to play marbles for him over the course of a
three-day weekend.  After the thumb-mounted machine obliterated six different
opponents, wiping out their bags completely, nobody would play marbles with him
anymore, and Slade had felt better.

Still.  What poor
losers.  It never said in the rules he couldn’t use a robot.

Rat was still staring at
him.  “You don’t look impotent.”  Like he was lying about being half Huouyt or
something.

Slade sighed.  “Okay,
look.  I
was
impotent.  Like, last week.” 

“Last week.”  Like he was
speaking ancient Ayhi or something.

“Yeah.  But then I found
you
.”

“Me.”  Still that blank
look.

Damn, she wasn’t making
this easy on him.  In fact, the woman of his dreams was peering at him as if he
were dribbling brain matter down his earlobes.  Slade sighed again.  “Okay,
truth is, I haven’t had sex in thirty-two years.”  There.  He said it.  It
wasn’t that hard.  It only made him feel
slightly
inadequate.

“Sounds about right,” she
said.

Slade narrowed his eyes. 
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“You do if you want to
live once I get free,” she said.

“You’re not getting
free,” Slade said.

She languidly raised an
eyebrow at him, looking utterly secure in the fact she was getting free.

Slade swallowed.  Though
he certainly didn’t intend to free her, he decided to hedge his bets.  “Okay,
look.  I
was
impotent for thirty-two years.  But there’s something about
you that’s…uh…making it all come back.  I think I could actually blow my load,
you know?”  Then, at her look of distaste, he blushed and said, “Listen, you’re
a girl, so you’ve got
no idea
how cool it is to get hard for the first
time in thirty years.  It opens up
so
many possibilities.  Now I just
wish I could put it to use.”  As soon as the words left his lips, his mouth
fell open.  Wow.  Had he
really
just said that?  He glanced down at his
cock, wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

Against the tree, Rat
swallowed.

Oh greaaaaaaat way to
ease her mind, you dumbass furg.
  Holding up a hand in peace, Slade quickly
said, “Wait, lemme back up.  That’s really not what I meant.  I mean, it’s
great you get me hard, but I’m not really interested.  It’s
intellectually
exciting, get me?  I want to get to the
root
of the problem.  I’m a
scientist
. 
Basically, I just wanna use you to figure out what chemicals you’re carrying or
excreting and replicate them so I can actually
breed
, you understand?” 
Hearing himself dig an even deeper hole, watching her eyes go wider, Slade
suddenly had the urge to crawl under a rock and die.  “I’m not going to hurt
you,” he muttered again.

They shared an
uncomfortable moment.  Then, softly, Rat said, “You want to breed?”

Slade’s heart gave a
startled hammer and he swallowed.  He’d heard of Congies’ general promiscuity,
but her offer was disconcerting coming so soon upon finding her, and the
unfamiliar throbbing in his groin was making it hard to think.  Still, the
world could use
more of him.  Even genetically diluted, half-Congie
versions of him.  Surely
some
of his intelligence would pass on to his
children.  Hell, he
owed it to the world
to attempt to pass his genius
on to the next generation.  A lot.  Multiple times a night.  Yeah, he needed to
make sure to do it every single night.  Sometimes during the day if he could
get away from his devotees long enough to do his patriotic duty.

She was peering at him
like a chicken eying a bug.

Slade blushed and cleared
his throat.  “Um.  Do you?”

“I’m not interested in
sex, you jenfurgling itch,” the Congie snapped.  “I want to know if you’re
planning on having
kids
.  Like, soon. 
Do
you already have kids?”

Slade blinked at her. 
Now
that
was a leap he hadn’t expected.  He’d planned sex first, maybe a
few years of practice getting back into the hang of things,
then
blessing the world with needy, hungry, attention-seeking Sladelings.  “You’re
sterile,” he said.  “I’ll have to grow you another womb.”

Rat looked like she was
going to bark something else at him, but then her frown faded and her mouth
fell open.  For a moment, she just stared at him.  Then, in an uncertain
whisper, she said, “You could
do
that?”

“Oh sure,” Slade said,
waving it off dismissively.  “I’d just need to make a pit-stop in a major city
and find a good lab.  Easy.”  He raised an anxious brow at her, trying not to
fidget.  “Why?  You game?” 
Please
let her be game…

Immediately, her shock
faded, replaced with irritation.  “No, I’m not ‘game’.”

Damn.
  Ah, well.  Disappointed,
Slade went back to trying not to nod off—and therefore die—as he waited for
dawn.

“You can untie me,” she
muttered.

“I
can
,” Slade
agreed, “but
you
can also kill me with your big toe.  Hell, maybe even
your
little
toe.  You ever killed anyone with your little toe?”

She got a thoughtful look
on her face.  “Maybe.  Depends on whether or not boots count.”

Slade groaned and dropped
his head into his hands.  He was screwed.  So totally screwed.

“You untie me,” she said,
“and I won’t kill you with my toe.”

Slade gave her a flat
look.

“…or anything else,” Rat
added, grinning.

Yeah, right.  Like
that
was going to happen.  “I’ll get right on that,” Slade said, pointedly leaning
back against his boulder.  He needed to get his priorities straight, he
decided.  Priority One:  He needed to figure out what it was about her that was
making his long-lost friend rise to the occasion.  Priority Two:  He needed to
take her home with him.  Priority Three:  He needed to figure out how to not
die in the process.

Then Sam frowned. 
Priority Two had come from nowhere, but when he thought of leaving her behind,
tied to a tree, while he bailed at a run, his heart started to pound like it
did when he thought about running out of gum.  He really
did
want her to
warm his bed, he realized.  Which could get…complicated.

Nervously, he looked at
her again.  Her face was barely visible in the dim light.  She hadn’t stopped
staring at him like a predator.

Suddenly, Sam knew what
it had to be.  A predator.  She was a
predator
.  Since her death had
been so obviously faked, she must have been working for the Dhasha
Representative for the last twenty turns.  He felt this little rush of glee,
realizing he’d found a way to have it
all
, and not die.

“Ka-par,” he said.

There was a brief flash
of surprise that crossed her face before her eyes narrowed.  “You can’t declare
ka-par.  You’re not a warrior.”

“No,” Slade agreed.  “But
you can.”

She frowned.  “That’s a
lose-lose situation for me.  If I lost, I’d be bound by honor.  If you lost,
you’d just go back to kidnapping me.”

Slade frowned at her. 
“I’d follow the rules.  On my honor.”

“
What
honor?” she
snorted.

“
Family
honor,”
Slade snapped back.  “I haven’t hurt you yet, have I?”

There was a brief flash
of uncertainty in her eyes before her face hardened again.  “I don’t believe
you,” she snorted.  “You’re giving me a fifty percent chance of becoming your
slave on my honor…or being your slave by force.  Burn you, I’m going to
kill
you.  No ka-par.”

Slade scowled at her, his
pride prickling, now.  “You don’t think I’m honorable?”

Rat narrowed her eyes at
him.  “You trapped me like an
animal
.”  She jerked violently against the
tree for emphasis.

Slade swallowed and
leaned away from her motion, his throbbing face and nuts remembering the last
time she’d lunged at him like that.  “Because you scare the shit outta me.”

“But you want to take me
home,” she growled.  “As your slave.”

“Well…” Slade cocked his
head, “…yeah.”

She squinted at him. 
“Are you stupid?”

“No.  Ka-par.”

“You
can’t declare
ka-par
!” she snapped.

“No, but you can,” Slade
said.

“Burn you, you’re a
criminal,” she snapped.  “It takes a warrior and a warrior’s honor to ka-par.”

“Listen, pussycat,” Slade
said, “you want outta those ropes?  The moment you declare ka-par, I’ll let you
go.  We won’t start until you’re free and clear.  On my honor.”

She glared at him, desire
obviously warring with distrust.  “I’m weak,” she finally muttered.  “You’d
win.”  The reluctance with which she said it actually made Slade’s heart ache.

And pound.  She was
thinking
about it.  This was
awesome
.

“Okay,” Slade said
quickly, “You declare ka-par, I’ll let you go, we feed you until you’re up to
it, then we give it a go.”

She frowned at him. 
“What makes you so sure you’d win?”

“I’m smarter than you,”
Slade said.

Rat squinted at him for
over a minute.  Then, “You’re sootin’ on, you jenfurgling prick.”

Slade actually
bounced
from his seat and went over to her to start untying her.  Then he paused at the
ropes and gave them a pointed tug.  He lifted a brow.  “Ka-par?”

She squinted up at him. 
“You’ll let me completely go and feed me to regain my strength.”

“Sure,” Slade said.  This
was going to be a
blast
.

“Are you burning insane?”
she finally asked.

“Yes,” Slade said.  He
frowned at her.  “Why?” 

She just peered at him,
her mouth still slightly open in confusion.  “Ka-par,” she finally said,
looking almost curious, now.

“Ka-par,” Slade agreed,
barely able to contain his glee.  Then he realized that his rock-hard boner was
getting painful from the proximity, and he said, “Okay, no offense, but before
I let you go, I’ve gotta smell you first.  Just in case you turn me into your
depraved slut and won’t let me near you again—or you kick me in the head, take
my food, and run off, okay?”

Her face darkened in a
scowl.  “I’m not going to run off.”  Then she leaned as far from him as
possible and gave him a wary look.  “What do you mean, ‘your depraved slut?’”

“What else would you do
with a six-foot-seven hunk of a certified genius?” Slade said. 

“Make you carry my gear.”

Slade grinned at her. 
“I’m
much
too pretty for that.”

She narrowed her eyes at
him.  “You look like a fucked-up albino.”

“Details,” Slade said,
waving it off dismissively.  “Now seriously, don’t bite me or anything, but I
need to smell you.  You wear perfume?”

She just peered at him.

“Are you going to bite
me?” he asked warily.

She was still giving him
that wary look.  “Possibly.  Smell me where?”

In reply, Slade warily
lowered his nose to her shoulder and inhaled.  He was pleased when she just
continued to stare at him rather than sever his jugular with her incisors.

“Are you really a
genius?” she demanded.

“Certified by the
California State School Board,” Slade said, groaning at the way his body
suddenly seemed to spasm in response to her scent.  He trailed his nose down
her arm, intrigued.  “Then MIT, then the government investigators, then the
Congie Peacemakers, then the California Department of Corrections, then—”

“You can stop smelling me
now,” she growled, as he neared her breast.

Slade blinked, then
reddened and sat up.  “I’m pretty sure it’s on your clothes. 
Do
you
wear perfume?”

She just scowled at him. 
“Perfume draws predators.”

“Okay,” Slade said, “what
about laundry detergent?”

“I’ve been wearing the
same clothes since Koliinaat.”

That was…nasty.  But with
Congies, who had different body chemistries from all the drugs they fed them,
not unheard of.  Slade grimaced.  “Okay, what about places?  You go into any
pleasure-houses before they sent you back to Earth?  Anything like that?”

He saw a moment of
recognition flash in her eyes, but she just continued to scowl at him like she
expected him to try and give her an STD.  “Maybe.”

Slade’s heart gave
another leap.  “Which one?  They use a lotion?  A salve?”

Rat gave him a long
look.  “Release me, feed me, ka-par, and then, depending on who wins, you’ll
find out.”

Slade’s mouth opened to
argue, then he sighed.  He raised a brow at her.  “On your honor?”

“Yeah,” she said.  “On my
honor.  Sam…” she hesitated at his last name, “Jungle Man.  By the blood on my
paws, I challenge you to ka-par.”  Hell, she almost seemed to be looking
forward
to it.