Though Rutger headed to the door, she caught him saying something quietly. And was fairly sure it was along the lines of: “I’ll give you big daddy soon, all right.”
Nowthathad her grinning. They were in as much sexual agony as she was.
47
Those wordsfrom Willow about a secret were ill-timed, Rutger decided. All they’d done was stir everyone, especially Cyn, who would have to be the most impatient person ever. She grumbled while they showed her through the rear segments of Big Daddy. Luckily, they’d kept her pink jeans and black shirt, or she’d be butt-naked, which would’ve made following her a cock-tease and a half. His cock was totally on board with doing her even minutes after she awakened from a damn coma.
There were benches in this first part. One side had computers and screens as well as porthole-like windows similar to those on a plane. On the other side was a bench with reagents, bottles, centrifuges and Lord knows what else that Maura was using to make nanites. The table Cyn had lain on had been recently bolted to the floor and as they went deeper into Big Daddy he noticed other things that must have been recently added.
“If she wants the Lure to be controlled, it’s obvious what that means. And you knew nothing of this? Either of you?”
“Yes. It means we forget about it for now. When Willow wants to say, she will.” She’d become their leader by default.Mads could have stepped up but had chosen not to. So far it was working out well.
“I cannot forget. I feel all fired up.” Cyn rolled her shoulders and stumped down the corridor, using the broom he’d given her for a crutch. Upside-down with the brush under her arm, it did the job.
Vargr smiled at him over her head as if to say, yes, she’s back to normal. Maybe the man hadn’t noticed the fine trail of red scales on one of her arms. It’d been extending as the days passed and now seemed to be twining up her biceps. It could be mistaken for a tattoo.
“Are there no weapons on this thing?” She turned to frown at him.
“There are.” He gestured at the next door as Vargr opened it.
This was a makeshift armory with semi-automatic weapons lining the wall on new racks. The screw holes still showed metal filings. There was also a shower and bathroom facilities. The bathroom was being used to store ammunition.
They trudged on, past a bedroom with crates piled up to the ceiling, even on the bed, though much of that seemed canned food. It was useless to stock up on food, unless you were afraid to leave thisbastardium-shielded cube.
Unless you were a plain old human, as Doctor Nietz had been.
He did like the way the man had chosen names.Bastardiumhad a ring to it. If he was allowed to name anything, in this terrifying era, he’d call it fuckonium.
At the very rear was the last room, where he twisted the handle, pushed the door, and stepped through.
“Here are the papers.” These were stacked to the ceiling like the crates. A desk held another PC, as well as more papers. Some stacks had neat, color-coded folders, or notepads withcoded names on them. Some were fully in code, and about half appeared to be printed copies.
The floor was strewn with loose sheets of paper. From behind some of the stacks peeked a hexagonal glass-fronted, ceiling-high display case. Inside that were what he assumed were antiques—vases, bottles, a sword and a dagger, an old pistol that might be a flintlock, jewelry.
If this were the doctor’s study, it made sense. He had been a known collector, fascinated by history as well as science.
From the antique desk, Cyn picked up a folder of print-outs. “Printed yet no digital record?”
“Not that we know of. Big Daddy was wiped or never had access. When or if he wakes, we can ask for clarification. Mo has limited access to the files that would help us make sense of this.”
“I see.” She gnawed on her lip then dropped the papers. “Phew.”
“Phew?”
“Tired. I guess. I’m not ill anymore, though. I think healing, yes. I need to do that so we can get Willow to cough up her secret.” She pursed her lips, as if by thinking it that would happen faster. “Hey. I can have my gun?” She planted her free hand on her cocked hip, while her other hand clutched the broom crutch.
“You’re not well enough!” Vargr sounded exasperated.
He chuckled at his beaster friend. “Let’s get you to a bed, Cyn, so you can rest. After some rest, okay, maybe you get that gun.”
“Maybe? In this land of desperate times? With those above doing fuck knows what that Willow knows about and we do not?” she said, challenging them both, with her hand out, palm up.
“It’s only a pistol.” He made a what-the-hell face at Vargr.
He eyed her. “Okay. When we get out of here, but then you rest.”
“Done.” She grinned triumphantly. “Though… you two need help with the reading too, yes?”
