“Armor—”
He tries to stand again and falls. A pained grunt leaves him. “Must help them.”
I get down beside him and summon his eyes to mine. “It’s an awful feeling, I know. Trust me. But right now, we have to save you before you can have any hope of getting to anyone else.”
He chokes up and hangs his head, where he lies on his elbows in the dirt. Finally, he gives me a single nod.
“I can’t carry you,” I admit.
Armor folds his wings up behind him and turns them into a sort of sled shape, then rolls onto them. He lifts his arms, crosses his hands, and gives me the same pleading look I saw hours ago.
I’m exhausted, but I take his massive hands in mine and begin the long journey of dragging him up the slope and into the trees. My legs are shaking and on fire by the time I have Armor in the brush of the low forest. It scrapes over him and makes it much harder to lug him up toward the cave. I begin leveraging both legs for one pull, slowing our progress.
“Armor,” I wheeze.
He opens his eyes, looks up at me, and rolls onto his stomach. Armor crawls the rest of the way into the cave. He stops in the middle of the floor and stills.
I catch the sounds of rustling brush outside and look out the entrance, but I can’t tell if it’s a squad of Solcrue or mutant wolves. Both have retro-reflectors in their eyes. I scramble for my gun and fire with shaky hands. A yip tells me it’s a pack.
One of Armor’s wings jerks and smashes over the entrance, blocking my escape but also the wolves from coming inside.
“Can you hold that with as tired as you are?”
“Automatic. Power or not,” he mumbles. “My design.”
I scrounge together my gathered berries, a jug of water, and strips of jerky and sit beside Armor. It’s a challenge to get him to eat the way he’s fallen, and I have to hold his arms aside so I can reach his mouth. It gets frustrating enough that I decide that rolling him onto his back is best.
Propping his head up, I straddle his chest and help him drink more water.
His hands find my thighs with curiosity. Armor opens his eyes wider and blinks up at me. “Human.”
“Yeah.” I cup his chin and ready the bottle again.
“Serve you.”
“Sorry, big guy. I think it’s my turn to take care of you.” I trained for it enough back home. I just never had a live cyborg to practice with.
Armor’s eyes roll back in his head. His hands grip me harder, then rub up my ass to my waist. “Soft. Smooth. Not metal.”
Beneath me, his chest rumbles faster, like his ultro’s spooling up. Armor wraps his arms around my back and hugs me against him, spilling my handful of berries. “Protect.”
“Why don’t you just focus on resting?” I ask from where I’m squished against him. “I’ll get you cleaned up.”
Armor’s eyes lethargically meet mine. He scours my face, strains to lift his head, and sniffs my breath, my face, and my neck. “I am broken.”
“Can you tell me where?”
“Everywhere outside. Mostly inside. Damage is significant.”
Then he grabs the back of my neck and pulls my mouth to his. Armor kisses me with a passionate surge I don’t have any training to handle. I frantically brace myself on his virile body, trying to grasp how a Titan could rationalize such action toward a human. But I wager his cyberpsyche is just as likely to crack in a hot desert as any human’s.
He sucks on my bottom lip before saying, “Thank you.”
I’m still frozen in surprise. He tastes like synthflesh, nanosolution, and berries, an odd combination but one I like.
But even as Armor rests back, he won’t let me go. His eyes gloss like he’s drunk. I think it’s more likely that he’s a wreck inside and just grateful to be free again.
It’s a struggle to get myself upright enough that I can keep hydrating and feeding him.
Stars, if this is what he’s going to be like, it’s going to be very difficult to heal him.But I’ve got to try. I think there are others buried out there. Many squadrons went missing during the war. I haven’t picked up a lot of signals, but even leaving one Titan behind feels like a crime.
“Hang in there, Armor. I’m going to get you up and running again. Promise.”
You are the hope humans need.
And I’m starting to think I like this one more than I should. All this time, I had barely a clue what I was digging up. Now that I do, I wish I had dug faster.
