As the Cog Turns (Mecha Origin Book 2) Read online

  “And I said no. I recall what you did to your last ship.”

  So did he. “It wasn’t my fault the planet blew up before I could get my vessel off the surface.” Nothing worse than watching a thing that cost more than the home he’d built exploding into junk metal chunks. Luckily, it happened whilst among his friends. Next thing he knew, he was aboard the Unicorn Bandit, a passenger with an ornery captain. And despite hitting a few ports since the disaster, he was in no hurry to replace his berth.

  “You should have moved faster, and maybe you would have made it in time.” Just like Ursy to place the blame squarely on him.

  “Did you forget the part where I covered your retreat?”

  “I didn’t need your help,” she huffed, leaning closer to the console of her ship. Given the asteroid field they traversed, she’d shuttered the viewing window and guided them via game board. Made of a hammered metal, it comprised a flat sheet reflecting the environment outside the ship. Objects of substance resolved themselves into bits of sand and even small tokens. A miniature pink zeppelin with a horn on its bow represented the Unicorn Bandit. Globules of dark sand that coagulated into misshapen hunks represent asteroids, and … He leaned closer to check the board before poking. “I think I found something.”

  “Found what?” She angled closer to peer. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Because there’s nothing there. Making this a perfect time to get your tired buttocks to bed.”

  “I’m not tired.” Her body betrayed her by cracking her jaw in a wide yawn.

  “I can see that,” was his wry reply. “Go. Rest. I promise to not scratch or dent your ship.”

  “What if someone attacks?”

  “Then I’ll wake you.”

  “Promise?”

  He eyed her. “No. If we’re ambushed by pirates, I’ll let us die a horrible death rather than wake you.”

  “No need to get snarky.”

  “What can I say? You’re rubbing off on me.”

  “Maybe I’ll take a short nap.” Ursy raised a hand to her mouth to cover another yawn as she lost the battle with the needs of her body. Even the most modified of Siyborghs required time to rest and regenerate.

  “Take as long as you need,” he said as she finally vacated the seat. A chair he’d coveted since coming aboard. The warmth of her lingered just like her scent surrounded him.

  He couldn’t escape it on board the ship. Since there was only one stateroom, they took turns using the bed. The smell of her permeated the sheets, invading his mind while he slept. He blamed that for the erotic dreams he’d had of late.

  Dreams involving Ursy.

  Crazy. As if he lusted after her. Never. Given his close friendship with her brother Zak, he regarded her as a sister even if they shared no blood.

  She annoyed him like no other.

  Stimulated him, too.

  She showed no interest in him as a man.

  Yet for some reason, he’d started noticing her as a woman.

  Might be long past time he visited a brothel. Apparently, his hand wasn’t doing the trick anymore if he was seeing Ursy in a sexual light.

  With her gone, he could relax and focus on the game board, watching the lumps representing asteroids, charting a path through them with the icon representing the ship. He also entertained himself blasting some of the manageable rocks in his way into small bits that would bounce harmlessly off the outer hull—layers of welded metal—which was all that stood between them and a certain galactic death.

  Zap. Zap.

  His finger, tipped with a thimble charged with electricity, dabbed at the board, squishing sandy lumps. Each poke released a zing of lightning that shattered asteroids. Kind of like the games they played as kids. Mindless entertainment until one of the meteorites exploded and released something interesting.

  A small pile of sand on the game board turned a vibrant shade of green and spun away from the shattered rock.

  Green indicated metal. Refined enough to actually appear as its own distinct shape. And that hue of green… He’d seen it only once before when they were escaping the planet that exploded and destroyed his ship.

  He still remembered watching the game board as Ursy had lifted the Unicorn Bandit from the surface. The space all around their vessel had been lit with the same kind of green specks, all zooming in different directions. Those green spots represented drones, each holding a piece of treasure, released as a final jest by the Tinqqer and creator of the God Gear, Marius Snype.

  He, Ursy, and his other friends were on a quest to find all those parts. In a strange twist of fate, on his way to follow up on a clue, had he accidentally found one of the drones they hunted?

  Only one way to be sure. Glancing over his shoulder, he briefly entertained the notion of waking Ursy. However, he didn’t dare leave the cockpit for fear of losing sight of the still spinning green speck. Not to mention that if he woke her, she’d probably come waltzing back to the cockpit and shove him out of the seat, once more taking control and snaring the treasure.

  Not this time. For once, he’d get there first.

  Wulff subtly angled the direction of the ship, lips pinched as he brought them into a denser part of the asteroid field.

  He did his best to zap the stray debris in his way, but he wasn’t fast enough to get them all. The ship shuddered a few times, but held. Even more important it wasn’t enough to wake Ursy.

  The green blob—that he was more and more convinced was a drone—slammed into a big asteroid and stopped moving. He aimed the vessel for it and realized that flying parallel to the moving rock would be unfeasible, hence why he maneuvered close enough to launch the clamping legs.

  Kree. Clunk. Shudder.

  The clawed feet hit the surface of the asteroid and dug in, holding the ship in place. Perfect.

  Since he needed to actually see for the next part of the operation, he slid open the shutters, revealing all the windows in the nose of the ship to the outside. All the better to see the mechanical arms that projected from the hull. Unlike some of the slicker vessels roaming the universe, the Unicorn Bandit, and indeed many Siyborgh vessels, eschewed computerized devices, preferring a more tactile and mechanized experience. It led to fewer deadly malfunctions, and without an onboard AI, they didn’t have to fear being taken over.

  However, when it came to some tasks, such as retrieving small objects in space while clamped to a hurtling asteroid and hoping the docking feet didn’t lose purchase, it could be trickier.

  Wulff stuck his arms inside a set of rubberized sleeves attached to the arms projecting from the belly of the ship through a series of pulleys, gears, and other moving parts. He had to really squeeze to get situated and grumbled at their tightness. Obviously, they were meant for someone of smaller stature. It took a moment to orient himself enough to see the object partially buried in a crevice. He swung the arms over and then squeezed his fingers into fists, extending the arms far enough that they could reach the partially buried drone.

  Thump. A stray asteroid hit the ship, and it wobbled.

  He needed to do this fast before Ursy noticed.

  He lowered the hands, the metal digits open wide, and yet the edge of one struck the drone, which tilted, slipping a little deeper into the crevice.

  “Oh no you don’t” he muttered, carefully gripping a protruding edge.

  “What are you doing?” Ursy snapped, startling him enough he almost dropped the drone.

  “What’s it look like I’m doing?” he grumbled, pulling it out of the hole.

  “You were supposed to be flying us out of the asteroid field, not making us into a target on one.”

  Arms still sunk to the shoulder in the rubber sleeves, he carefully drew the dusty drone toward the ship, noticing its bent shape. Gaze intent, he didn’t turn his head to look at her when he replied, “I saw something and worried I’d lose it if I wasted time poking you awake.”

  Ursy finally paid attention to the scene outside the window and whistle
d. “Is that one of Snype’s drones?”

  “Looks like. Still want me to stop what I’m doing?”

  “Shut up and bring it in.”

  “I’m trying.” But the asteroid had entered a dense field of flying rocks that appeared determined to thwart him. A few zinged past, bouncing off the arm. One hit the drone and shifted it in his metal grip.

  “Don’t drop it.”

  “I’m not dropping it.” He grunted through gritted teeth. He drew the broken machine into the belly of the ship and didn’t relax until he heard the clang of the hatch shutting behind it.

  “Sending a decontamination cloud through it,” Ursy announced, pressing a few buttons and twirling some knobs.

  “How long before we can look at it?” he asked.

  “Not until we get out of here. We’re about to get pummeled,” she noted, staring at the game board and the sudden mass of chunks aiming for them.

  “Where did those rocks come from?” he exclaimed, pulling his arms free.

  “Doesn’t matter. We need to move. Help me cover the window.” She tugged on the metal shutters. While she tackled one side, he hit the other, but before they could meet in the middle, a large meteorite hit the clear covering and cracked it.

  “Breach!” she yelled unnecessarily. Immediately there was hissing as the fracture began sucking out the air inside. The loss of pressure caused the crack to spread.

  “We need to latch it now before it blows out.” He yanked the shutter into place, but her side got stuck. The whistling of escaping air vibrated every part of him then sent a chill when it turned to a groan as the clear shield began to bow outward.

  “Ursy!” He said her name in a warning tone just as she wedged her piece free and it met with his. He slammed the locks on it shut, sealing the cockpit. The air inside stopped pulling.

  He smiled. “Good thing you woke up. That was close.”

  Ursy punched him.” You idiot!”

  3

  “Even with a cog, or even two, males are dumb.” – Today’s Modern Female Siyborgh

  Hitting Wulff proved about as effective as punching a wall. All it managed to accomplish was a throb in her fist and a sobering reminder that Wulff—a man who liked to call himself the abused adopted brother in her family—didn’t need gears to be tough. He’d always been strong. Stronger than the others in their group. Darker and more brooding, too.

  Not her type at all. Not anymore at least. Perhaps as a young girl she’d fancied him for a while, but eventually her pride was stung by the constant rejection and she had moved on. And kept moving. It seemed she only ever seemed to meet males who bored her quickly and never lasted longer than the few days she spent in port. They didn’t engage her mind, rarely could master her body, and, when they whined, left her feeling cold.

  Only one male ever managed to heat all her parts. And left her frustrated.

  “Why the frukx didn’t you wake me up when you spotted the drone?” she harangued.

  He shrugged, a roll of his big shoulders that only emphasized the breadth of him filling her cockpit. Making it seem too small, too intimate. Drenching her in the sight and smell of him.

  Was it any wonder she usually insisted they take opposing shifts? One on duty, one off. She as their pilot, him as anything that kept him far away from her.

  A working plan until they entered the asteroid field. Then she needed to pilot the entire time but not because she didn’t trust him to fly. She hadn’t been entirely honest with him about why she wanted to be the only one driving, and she’d paid the price. She’d known there was a drone somewhere amidst the flying rocks. Hoped to find it and…what? Once more demonstrate she was good enough to play with Wulff and the other boys?

  They knew she had the skills. Why else would she belong to their gear-hunting crew? Did they like her? That might be a tougher question to handle, especially given she antagonized them at every turn. Beat them every chance she could. Trying to prove what exactly?

  She should have told Wulff rather than keep all her secrets, not that it mattered anymore. Her plan backfired. Wulff found the drone, and in the process, her ship got damaged. Some would call it karma.

  “I didn’t wake you because you needed the sleep. You’re grumpy when tired.”

  At the remark she arched a brow. “I’m grumpy? You’re one to talk.”

  That brought a smile to his lips. “Never claimed I had a nice disposition.”

  “What makes you think I do even when rested?”

  “I know you, Ursy Mynorr. You might show a scowl to the world, but inside, you’re a kind person.”

  She blinked at his reply. “Kind? Have you forgotten already that I punched you?”

  “Bah. A mere love tap.”

  For some reason the statement caused a stutter in her heart. Obviously, her organ-enhancing cog had a glitch. “If you call that a tap, then I need to hit you harder.”

  “If it makes you feel better, I’ll stand still while you pummel away.”

  He would, too, just to prove he could handle it, which sucked out all the fun.

  “Hitting you won’t fix my window.”

  He glanced at the closed shutters. “Sorry about the damage. We’ll get it repaired when we reach the market.”

  She grumbled, “You know I hate flying through open space with the blind closed.” She preferred to actually see what came at her rather than completely rely on the game board.

  “If you’re feeling confined, then you can peek through the ones in the common area,” he reminded.

  “Useless tiny portholes,” was her mumbled reply. She preferred the vast panorama she enjoyed in the cockpit. The sensation of flying free in space, mistress of her destiny.

  “By all indications, we’re not that far from the Obsidian Market,” he reminded, tapping the edge of the board where the edges of a shiny black nugget hinted just out of sight.

  “Where they’ll charge me too much for something that was your fault.” As if she’d let him wiggle out of owning the mishap.

  “I’m pretty sure the cost will be covered by the God Gear piece I recovered. Shall we go look at it?”

  She might have complained more but for his use of “we” and the reminder that the damage didn’t come without its reward.

  We found one of the missing drones.

  With the ship coasting free of the last few stray rocks, and nothing else in sight, she nodded. “Might as well see what we got.”

  They headed to the common area, which was more of a cargo hold than anything else. While she had plenty of funds sitting in the bank, she’d kept her ship tight and small. Easier to maneuver and sneakier for getting in and out with no one the wiser.

  The hatch in the floor took a few cranks of the wheel before it released gasses, hissing as the space it hid pressurized. The decontamination phase had completed while they left the asteroid field, but a lingering chill remained, wafting to cool their skin when Wulff lifted the hatch.

  They both peered down into the hole as it exposed the crumpled drone lying within. Inert, and yet she knew better than to trust a machine. She’d had an uncle once who assumed his oven, some smart machine that prepared all his meals, had baked its last. Turned out it had one more recipe left. It took forever to get the smell of her uncle out of her nasal packages.

  She lay on her belly and shone a beam of light over the drone, the directed EMP stream meant to disable any still functioning electronics.

  Not even a twitch shook the drone. “I think it’s dead.”

  “I’ll grab it.” Wulff gripped the edge of the hatch and dropped down rather than extending the retractable ladder. He hit the floor with a thud and crouched beside the drone. “Definitely one of Snype’s.” He turned it over. “It got banged pretty good. This dent”—he traced the trench in the metal—“appears to be jamming the hatch.”

  “Bring it up. I’ve got some tools to pry it open.”

  While he heaved himself out of the cargo transport bay—a grand name for a spa
ce less than ten feet square—she retrieved a tool box and set it down with a loud clang on the table bolted to the floor in a corner of the room.

  Wulff arrived with the drone tucked under his arm. “I can work on this if you want to fly the ship.”

  “Or how about I open the drone while you drive? After all, weren’t you complaining you were bored?”

  “Now that we’re out of the asteroid field, autopilot is fine.”

  “But you insisted. And you’re right. You really should have a turn.”

  They stared at each other before his lip curled. “I found it.”

  “You’re on my ship. Besides, wasn’t the agreement to share any pieces we found?”

  Having all been present when Snype released the drones carrying the various components of the God Gear, they’d made a pact to hunt them down together—Zak, her brother, Jwls, Ray, and Wulff, all people she’d known her entire life. A crew that had been successfully working together hunting down the rare latmevilium metal and the cogs left strewn around the galaxy by the Mecha gods.

  A crew that now numbered one less since Jwls found a piece of the God Gear attached to a human, and rather than dig it out, he’d bought it—for an exorbitant price—in order to preserve her life. After which Jwls married his human and decided to hang up his gear-hunting belt.

  “Never said I wouldn’t share. But would it kill you to let me touch it first?”

  “It might.” Her lips curved into a grin. “I’m not used to letting someone else take control.”

  “You should try it sometime. It can lead to pleasant things.” The wink proved unexpected and caused a curl of warmth between her legs. Not to mention a bit of a stunned moment.

  Since when did Wulff flirt with her?

  Never. He usually scowled all the time. Acted horrified if anyone even suggested they were together in a non-platonic fashion. The wink and statement were obviously a jest.

  She angled her chin. “I don’t need any help feeling good.” Only too late did she realize how it sounded. Even if true—and perfectly normal—her cheeks heated.