did for the military or the corporation, though, was.
Pulling up her file, he concentrated on the contents he’d downloaded to his BCI earlier. It was incomplete , given the damage done to the records by the hard drive wipes. He began his questioning by confirming the basics. “Your name is Riley Carmichael.”
“Yes. And you are?”
“Asking the questions.”
“And again being rude.”
He glanced up from his summarized report. For some reason it didn’t please him when she wouldn’t hold his stern glare. “I am not your friend.”
“I’d say that was obvious.”
Did she sulk? Her tone seemed to indicate she did. He chose to ignore it. “You are twenty-seven years old. Single. A paltry five foot one, one hundred and forty-five pounds.”
“What do you know, all that starving paid off.”
He ignored her and continued. “You have a degree in forensic anthropology. Did an internship at a morgue. Attended—”
“Yes, yes and yes. Does any of this really matter?”
“Facts are important.”
“To you, maybe. I’m more interested in other things, such as why have you taken me prisoner?”
Every time he thought he had her pegged as weak and timid, she surprised him by speaking out. He found he preferred her small bouts of courage to her hunching when he scowled at her too long.
“ I took you prisoner because you are the enemy.”
“Enemy?” She uttered a short laugh. Peering down at herself, she gestured to her body, something he refused to look at —the size of her breasts and hips not necessary for this interrogation—before returning her gaze to him. “Exactly how am I a danger to you?”
Because , even though he kept his gaze on her face, she made his cock stir when it should remain dormant. He ground the heel of his palm into it, to no effect. “You are human.”
“And so are you.”
Thanks for the reminder. He grimaced. “Not anymore.”
“But you began that way. Surely the machines they melded you with haven’t completely eradicated who you are , or were?”
“No, the military , with help of the company, did that with their training.”
Her brow creased. “I don’t understand.”
“Like hell you don’t. You worked for the m. You saw how they treated us. Or are you going to pretend you never saw the cyborgs being kept captive?”
“The only thing I ever saw were bodies and my jailors.”
“So you deny involvement in the cyborg project?”
“Deny? Of course I am. You’re the first cyborg I’ve ever met.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.”
“The facility we pulled you from had several cyborgs incarcerated. Are you telling me they never had you examine one?”
“I think I’d kind of remember.” Now it was she wielding the sarcasm. As the recipient, he didn’t care for it.
“So what bodies did you see?”
“Lots of mutated human ones.”
“Are you sure they were human?”
She huddled in on herself. “Yes, at least they were before the experiments.”
His attention , which attempted to stray from her lips lower to a shadowy décolletage, sharpened and returned to her face. “Explain.”
She fidgeted. “I don’t know what they were doing, but I saw the results. Ever watch mutant movies where mad scientists try to blend animals with humans and end up with monsters?”
“No.” But he’d seen the result of man mixing human with machine.
“Oh. Well, imagine if you can a body that’s had its DNA reprogrammed.”
“Like I’ve never fucking seen or heard of that before.” He rolled his eyes and then almost smacked himself at his human reaction. Get a fucking grip, soldier!
She blushed. “Sorry. I forgot for a moment who I was speaking with.”
As if.
“Anyway, as I was saying, the bodies they brought to me were deformed.”
“Deformed how?”
“ Thicker body mass. Enlarged organs, and in some cases duplicates. Extra ribs. Thicker bone growth. Fused in some cases with others. The actual density and composition was changed. And then
Pulling up her file, he concentrated on the contents he’d downloaded to his BCI earlier. It was incomplete , given the damage done to the records by the hard drive wipes. He began his questioning by confirming the basics. “Your name is Riley Carmichael.”
“Yes. And you are?”
“Asking the questions.”
“And again being rude.”
He glanced up from his summarized report. For some reason it didn’t please him when she wouldn’t hold his stern glare. “I am not your friend.”
“I’d say that was obvious.”
Did she sulk? Her tone seemed to indicate she did. He chose to ignore it. “You are twenty-seven years old. Single. A paltry five foot one, one hundred and forty-five pounds.”
“What do you know, all that starving paid off.”
He ignored her and continued. “You have a degree in forensic anthropology. Did an internship at a morgue. Attended—”
“Yes, yes and yes. Does any of this really matter?”
“Facts are important.”
“To you, maybe. I’m more interested in other things, such as why have you taken me prisoner?”
Every time he thought he had her pegged as weak and timid, she surprised him by speaking out. He found he preferred her small bouts of courage to her hunching when he scowled at her too long.
“ I took you prisoner because you are the enemy.”
“Enemy?” She uttered a short laugh. Peering down at herself, she gestured to her body, something he refused to look at —the size of her breasts and hips not necessary for this interrogation—before returning her gaze to him. “Exactly how am I a danger to you?”
Because , even though he kept his gaze on her face, she made his cock stir when it should remain dormant. He ground the heel of his palm into it, to no effect. “You are human.”
“And so are you.”
Thanks for the reminder. He grimaced. “Not anymore.”
“But you began that way. Surely the machines they melded you with haven’t completely eradicated who you are , or were?”
“No, the military , with help of the company, did that with their training.”
Her brow creased. “I don’t understand.”
“Like hell you don’t. You worked for the m. You saw how they treated us. Or are you going to pretend you never saw the cyborgs being kept captive?”
“The only thing I ever saw were bodies and my jailors.”
“So you deny involvement in the cyborg project?”
“Deny? Of course I am. You’re the first cyborg I’ve ever met.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.”
“The facility we pulled you from had several cyborgs incarcerated. Are you telling me they never had you examine one?”
“I think I’d kind of remember.” Now it was she wielding the sarcasm. As the recipient, he didn’t care for it.
“So what bodies did you see?”
“Lots of mutated human ones.”
“Are you sure they were human?”
She huddled in on herself. “Yes, at least they were before the experiments.”
His attention , which attempted to stray from her lips lower to a shadowy décolletage, sharpened and returned to her face. “Explain.”
She fidgeted. “I don’t know what they were doing, but I saw the results. Ever watch mutant movies where mad scientists try to blend animals with humans and end up with monsters?”
“No.” But he’d seen the result of man mixing human with machine.
“Oh. Well, imagine if you can a body that’s had its DNA reprogrammed.”
“Like I’ve never fucking seen or heard of that before.” He rolled his eyes and then almost smacked himself at his human reaction. Get a fucking grip, soldier!
She blushed. “Sorry. I forgot for a moment who I was speaking with.”
As if.
“Anyway, as I was saying, the bodies they brought to me were deformed.”
“Deformed how?”
“ Thicker body mass. Enlarged organs, and in some cases duplicates. Extra ribs. Thicker bone growth. Fused in some cases with others. The actual density and composition was changed. And then
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