The sister and the sister’s mate had been repaired. His female wouldn’t suffer additional emotional damage.
And she had said the humanoid love words to him.
Warmth spread across Doc’s chest. “I love you too, my mate.” He forced himself to remain still, to not react physically.
His beast prowled within him. If he kissed her, deepened their embrace, he’d lose all control and ravish his female, breed with her right there, right then, in front of her loved ones.
That would emotionally damage her and he would never do that.
His pretty little humanoid’s eyes widened. “I must have misheard you. You’re in your medic role. You couldn’t have said what I thought you said.”
She had an exceptional auditory system…for a humanoid. There was a mere 5.6978 percent probability she had misheard him.
But he would repeat the message as often as she needed to hear it. “There is scientific proof the humanoid love emotion exists. I have confirmed that in myself. Hormones and chemicals in my organic brain—”
“Vauva.” His female’s sister bolted upright on the sleeping support.
Confessions of love were temporarily pushed aside. Both Doc and his female moved toward the sister.
“You’ve come back to us.” Allinen’s eyes glistened with unshed tears.
That was happy damage. Doc suppressed his urge to repair it and grasped a handheld. He scanned the sister.
“I need to see my daughter.” The confused female looked around her. “Take me to wherever you’re keeping Vauva.”
Lanko wrapped his arms around his mate and gazed at Allinen expectantly. The male wanted her to undertake a task belonging to him. He desired Doc’s female to be the one to tell his mate of their child’s death.
The sister would hate the being who relayed that message.
Doc’s top lip curled.
He wouldn’t allow Allinen to be emotionally damaged in that way. Hooking his arms around his female, he drew her back against his chest, protecting her smaller form with his muscle.
“Your daughter is dead.” He bluntly told the sister, preferring she hate him and not his mate.
“My daughter isn’t dead, not anymore.” The sister glared at Allinen, her focus remaining on the being she knew. “You brought me back. You can bring her back…if you want to do that.”
That wasn’t how nanohumanics or nanocybotics worked. “The repair is only effective on living organisms.” It couldn’t revive the dead.
Other technology could do that, but that had side effects he wouldn’t relay to his worst enemies. He shuddered as images of those beings flashed through his processors. Being dead was the better alternative.
“You don’t want to bring my daughter back.” The sister continued to ignore him. “You want Vauva, an innocent little girl, to remain dead. That’s why you brought this illness into the settlement. You wanted to kill my daughter.”
Allinen flinched as each accusation was flung at her.
Doc held her close, trying to shield her with his body. “Your daughter brought this illness into the settlement. Your sister and I obtained the repair that brought you back, brought your mate back.”
“You have always hated me.” The sister’s eyes were wild with grief and agony and desperation. “You envied me because I had everything and you had nothing, so you decided to take away a being I loved, and you brought me back from the dead to force me to live with that pain.”
Her fingers curled into tight fists. She leaned forward.
Doc growled, baring his teeth. His beast perceived the sister to be a threat to its mate. He coiled his muscles, preparing to attack.
“Don’t.” Allinen pressed one of her slender hands against his right upper thigh.
Her touch was enough to stop him, was the one force in the universe that could have done that.
That was the power she had over him. She was the only being his beast responded to.
“Let her hate me.” His female’s voice was soft. “Let her vent and rage and blame me for everything. It will help her cope.”
His little humanoid would endure the pain if it lessened her sister’s agony.
“I love you.” He said those words so only she could hear them.
She was strong. To be worthy of her, he could be strong also.
His female’s shoulders squared.
“You killed my daughter.” The sister wasn’t yet done. “And I will live with that. I have no choice. But you will have to live with it too. And you will live with it alone. I will never speak to you, never associate with you again. As of this moment, you are as dead to me as my dear sweet Vauva.”
Those words damaged Doc’s female. Her body trembled.
He rubbed her arms, her chest, trying to soothe her.
The sister turned to her mate.
Lanko had been silent during her tirade, had said nothing, done nothing to defend Allinen, the female who had given him back his mate.
He wasn’t an honorable being.
“Take me away from this domicile, from her.” The sister told the Khambalian.
Lanko glanced at Doc, at Allinen, as though silently apologizing for his mate’s behavior. It wasn’t enough, not in Doc’s opinion.
The Khambalian male gathered his mate into his arms, and staggered across the chamber with her, exiting the domicile.
“There is an 82.6952 percent probability he’ll drop her.” Doc relayed that projection as soon as the door closed and they were alone.
“I shouldn’t care about that.” Allinen faced him. “My sister is stubborn. She’ll do as she says—she’ll never speak to me again.”
To reprimand his female for an action she didn’t take was foolish and cruel, but he had learned long ago that foolishness and cruelty was in some humanoids’ and many humans’ natures.
His female sighed. “I lost my sister twice this planet rotation—once when she almost died and again, just now, when she recovered.”
She gazed up at him. Her cheeks were surprisingly dry.
“You aren’t crying.” Her tear ducts must be malfunctioning. He cupped her chin and studied her eyes. They were tinged with red pigment but there were no signs of permanent damage.
“I’m all cried out.” Her shoulders slumped.
He didn’t know that was possible for humanoids. It suggested they had special liquid set aside for tears, yet, when he had laved the remnants of his female’s sorrow with his tongue, he could determine nothing unique about the tears.
There was much he had to learn to ensure his female remained fully functional.
He retrieved a container of her beverage, opened it, pressed it to her lips. “Drink.”
She lifted her eyebrows but did as he ordered.
When she was done, he set the container aside, studied her again.
Her eyes remained clear. Refilling her tear ducts must require additional time.
“We have enough nanohumanics to save the rest of my kind.” His female’s processing turned once more to the plight of other beings.
Doc didn’t care about the rest of her kind. And he didn’t trust them. They had treated Allinen poorly, hadn’t valued her the way a logical being would.
But he would follow his female’s lead. If she wanted to save the others, they would do that.
“I could calculate the probability the rest of the Khambalians will agree to be repaired.” He could provide additional inputs for her decision.
“There’s no need to do that.” His female shook her head. “I know the probability of them accepting our help is 0.0000 percent. I’m one of the unmated. You’re an outsider.” She blew out her breath. “They might not listen to what we have to say. And they certainly won’t agree to be injected with any repair we’ve derived.”
The probability her kind would accept their help was 3.2569 percent, but those better odds still didn’t warrant the risks involved. Her kind was more likely to reprimand them…severely…for their perceived role in the spread of the illness than accept their repair.
He wouldn’t put his female in peril to save beings who didn’t want to be saved. “We’ll allow them to determine their own futures.”
Allinen looked at him for several heartbeats.
“We’ll allow them to determine their own futures.” Her head dipped.
She hadn’t fought him on that decision and that pleased him.
“As we will determine ours.” His tired little humanoid summoned a smile. “You mentioned taking me with you when you left this planet. I’m ready to leave now. Paha teeth, I’m ready.”
They hadn’t gathered the genetic information on everyone in the settlement, but based on the rapid spread of the illness, everyone in the settlement, excluding the sister and the sister’s mate, would soon be dead.
Technically, he had completed his mission.
“Then we will leave.” He glanced around the chamber. “Gather the possessions you wish to take with you. We also require a container of your beverage and samples of your nourishment.”
He would strive to replicate both of those. The beverage, especially, was essential for his female to maintain her glow.
She sorted through objects, relaying their history as she made her decisions about what to take and what to leave behind. The information transfer intensified their connection and provided explanations for many of her past words and actions.
He secured the sample of the nanohumanics. As the B Model cyborg had predicted, the nanohumanics had self-replicated, filling their container once more.
In the wrong hands, that sample could be extremely dangerous.
Something or someone scratched against the domicile’s door. A lifeform scan relayed there were fifteen humanoids standing on the other side of it.
“Position yourself behind me.” He told his female. “They could be hostile.”
He was an outsider. Her kind hated outsiders. The illness made their situation increasingly precarious. Beings facing death took illogical actions.
Doc extracted a gun from one of his holsters, opened the door a crack.
A female peered inside, saw him. Her eyes widened. “Please, Outsider. My son is sick. You must help him.”
Her hair was damp. Sweat glistened on her skin. The female was ill also, but her only concern was for her offspring.
He looked over his shoulder.
Allinen stood with her hands clasped together, her beautiful countenance grave. “They do want our help. I was wrong about that.”
His calculations had been inaccurate also.
“We can’t say no.” She met his gaze. Her golden eyes shone with empathy. “That could have been my sister…or me, if I had not met you.”
If he hadn’t arrived on the planet when he had, his female could have been one of the ill. A chill settled low on his form. She could have died.
“We’ll help you.” He opened the door wider.
“Thank the trees around us.” The female’s relief was palpable. She struggled as she carried her offspring into the domicile.
Other mothers and fathers waited with their little ones in their arms. They stood in an orderly line, their expressions fearful yet desperate.
They would do anything to save the beings they love, including accept a mysterious repair from a dreaded outsider.
Doc’s female spread a clean covering cloth over the sleeping support. The fabric was thin, would serve as no protection against bacteria and other organisms. It merely created the illusion of a sterile environment.
But he appreciated her actions. She processed like a medic.
“Place him here.” His female patted the surface of the sleeping support. “And sit beside him.”
The mother followed her instructions. “Lanko said you cured him and his mate.” She chattered, her gaze darting from Doc to her child to Allinen. “I need a cure for my son. That’s all I ask.”
“The cure will change your son.” His female carefully spaced the words, ensuring their patient’s parent understood what she was saying.
“The cure will save him.” The mother gathered her son closer to her. “Lanko told us about the changes. There will be an adjustment, I know, and I won’t be there to guide my son through it but he’ll manage.” She bent and pressed her lips against the offspring’s sweat-soaked forehead. “He’s a good boy, has always been a faster learner. He’ll get through this.”
Allinen glanced at Doc. One of her eyebrows arched.
The fate of the offspring had been agreed upon. His female was looking to him for guidance regarding the mother.
He had already made that decision also.
“A cure for your son is ineffective if he has no one to care for him.” Doc loaded the injection gun with nanohumanics. The offspring wasn’t a cyborg. He wouldn’t survive on his own. “I require that both of you benefit from the cure.”
“Both of us will benefit from the cure.” The mother whispered that revelation, her tone soft with wonder. “We’ll both live.” She gazed at her son. “I’ll see him grow up.” That female’s tear ducts were fully functional, unlike Allinen’s.
Doc injected first the son and then the mother. As he did that, he swept his fingertips over their skin, collecting their genetic information.
“I feel it working,” the mother exclaimed.
He scanned them. Their nanohumanics were increasing. “It is working.”
“Thank the trees around us.” The female hugged him, that impulsive act surprising Doc. “You saved us.” She paused. Sadness reflected in her eyes. “My mate is also ill—”
“Send him to us.” Allinen helped the female to her feet.
“He’s stubborn.” The mother’s hold on her son was more secure as she carried him toward the exit.
“Males usually are.” Doc’s female grinned at the departing female.
“I’m not stubborn.” Doc contradicted her statement.
“You didn’t give up on finding a repair for my kind.” His female turned her smile in his direction and he gaped at her, dazzled by her brightness. “That’s stubborn, but in a good way.”
If she valued stubbornness, then he would be stubborn. He shrugged and added that input to a database he’d dedicated to his female.
Doc then beckoned to the next being waiting outside the domicile.
They injected Khambalian after Khambalian. More beings joined the line. Those that couldn’t walk to the domicile were carried by others. All sought a repair. All were willing to put their hatred and distrust of outsiders aside in exchange for a future.
Allinen calmed the beings and prepared the sleeping support. Doc dispersed the repair and added their specs to his database.
Truth and Dissent reported from outside the settlement. As guards recovered, fewer pahas attacked. Truth grumbled that the repair was destroying his fun.
Doc was happy to have less fun.
Two hundred and seventy Khambalians were injected, were now modified humanoids. That number, combined with their nanohumanics-extended lifespans, would ensure his female’s kind, in their altered form, survived.
The others were either dead or would soon be dead.
Doc transmitted the specs on the beings to his Captain, along with the other information he and his brethren had gathered, as he waited with his female for beings to arrive, to request additional repairs.
Moments passed. No one else appeared at the domicile.
Their task was completed. He cleaned the injection gun, placed the container of nanohumanics in one of his holsters. “My female—”
“We’ll give them a bit more time.” Her forehead was furrowed with worry lines. “I haven’t seen Ystava or Kuollut or…” She named beings.
There was a high probability they were dead, but he said nothing because he wasn’t certain. He would linger as long as his female desired.
She drifted closer to him, her gaze flicking from his face to his legs. He pulled her onto his lap and she released a contented sigh, resting her head against his shoulder.
They sat in silence for a while. He nuzzled against her hair, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her, relishing her softness.
“You saved a lot of beings today.” Admiration was wrapped around her words.
He sat a little straighter. “You saved those beings also.” She had been a great partner. “We work well together.”
She was perfect for him in all ways.
“You showed me how to help you.” She covered his hands with hers. “I don’t know much about repairing beings.”
“You could learn as I did.” He linked their fingers. “I could show you more repairs.” He’d trained other medics. “If you would like me to do that.”
“I would like you to do that.” She nodded. “Your role is busy. Will you have time to teach me?” She paused. “I mean no disrespect by asking that question.”
“I felt no disrespect.” He smiled. Her willingness to try new things, new words, new customs, was one of the many things he loved about her. “And I will have time to teach you.”
Finding a repair for Captain’s feet and Chuckles’ knee was no longer a high priority for him.
“You will teach me to repair beings.” That prospect gave his female joy. He heard that in her voice. “Once I learn how to do that, we can be a team, and I’ll have a role on your ship.”
“You have a role on the ship.” Doc’s smile faded. Had she been inflicting emotional damage on herself over not having a role? “You’re my female and we’re already a team.”
“Now I will also be a helper to a healer.” Her chin lifted. “That’s an important role in my settlement. Others would treat me with respect.”
Others would treat her with respect because she was his. But he recognized her need to have status of her own. She had been one of the unmated, an outcast amidst her kind.
“It’s an important role on our ship.” He kissed the top of her head. “Everyone respects a helper to a healer.” He’d ensure they did that.
“I’ll be respected.” Her eyes glowed with happiness. “I—”
The door opened. Lanko stepped inside the domicile. “You have to leave.”
Doc lowered his female until her bare feet touched the dirt floor and stood protectively in front of her. “We’re leaving.”
“You have to leave. Now.” The male waved his hands at the door, his movements agitated. “Some of the recovered males have lost their mates. They’re blaming you, the outsider, for that loss, are planning on depriving you of your mate also.”
They threatened his female. Doc growled, his beast rising within him.
Allinen strapped her arms around his waist, her touch calming him, allowing his machine to remain in control…barely.
“If it wasn’t for my mate, that outsider, they would have died.” She pointed that fact out to Lanko.
“They aren’t thinking rationally.” The Khambalian male shook his head. “No one who has lost loved ones is applying logic to the situation. That includes your sister.”
“She hates me.” The sadness in Allinen’s voice tugged at Doc’s heart.
“She hates everyone, you, me, herself.” Lanko’s lips twisted. “You and I have never been close, and this might not mean much to you, but I am grateful for what you did. I still have the female I love because of you and I will always be thankful to you for that.”
“It matters to me.” Allinen admitted to that. “I—”
Doc sensed beings at the far edges of his monitoring range.
“We don’t have time to talk.” He grasped his medic pack as well as the second pack they’d filled, slung both of them over one of his shoulders. “Beings are approaching.”
He swung his female into his arms and sprinted forward, blasting through the doors. His first and only priority was to convey her away from danger.
“Take care of my sister, Lanko.” Allinen yelled that order over his shoulder. “I will always love her.” Her voice lowered.
“She loves you also.” Doc was 100.0000 percent confident of that. Anyone who truly knew his female would love her. “Grief impairs beings’ logic.”
“It impaired mine.” She nodded. “But you were there for me. You stopped me from doing anything rash.”
“I’ll always be there for you, my female.” He hefted her higher against his chest, moving at cyborg speed past the circle of guards.
His brethren joined them.
Truth kept pace to his right. There was a grin on his face. The D Model was never serious.
Dissent ran to his left. The J Model was even more glum than he usually was.
Gnaw, his miljoonasuut pet, had wanted to accompany its new master. To discourage the creature from following him, Dissent had been forced to leave a trail of lights behind him.
Doc’s light was in front of him, cradled in his arms.
His female’s presence and her caring illuminated both parts of him, his medic and his beast. She cast a happy glow on his entire being.
When he was with his pretty little humanoid, he had no damage.
He was fully functional. He was worthy.
And he was loved.