She bit her lip. “Well… I wouldn’t mind a second set of eyes on the readings. Maybe you’ll see something I’m missing.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The smile she directed at him was so warm that his heart actually stopped beating for a second. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms but instead, he turned towards the closest console and began to study the data.
CHAPTER THREE
Cass’s fingers flew over the controls, her mind focused almost entirely on the data in front of her. The station hummed quietly around her; the low buzz of the machinery barely noticeable against the increasing howl of the storm outside. Despite the storm, this was a familiar environment—familiar except for the huge cyborg sitting at the next console.
As she waited for the data to cycle, she snuck a look at him from under her lashes. Roland had chosen to perch on his shoulder, and Z-542 had accepted it without question.His shoulders are definitely broad enough to hold him, she thought, then blushed, but she didn’t look away.
He was focused on his screen, a frown on that weathered face. Not a handsome face, but… striking. His big hands moved competently over the keyboard, the left one gleaming silver in the harsh station lighting. It was almost the only outward sign that he was a cyborg—a hand that looked human except for the metallic skin.
What would that hand feel like, she wondered. Would his skin feel cool and metallic when he touched her?
Which he is not going to do, she told herself firmly, but then he looked up and met her eyes and her breath caught. His eyes were the other part of him that didn’t look entirely human—they too gleamed silver—and she knew they were capable of seeing things far outside the usual spectrum of sight. But as he looked at her, his frown disappeared and the warmth in those silver eyes made her heart skip a beat.
Then he cleared his throat and looked back at the screen.
“I’m not a scientist, but there seems to be an anomaly in this pattern.”
“Exactly,” she agreed eagerly. “The data from this station is different, and I don’t think it’s just a glitch.”
“A storm like this can create all kinds of interference,” he said slowly, and she gave a frustrated huff.
“I know the storm could be a factor, but the anomalies started before the storm arrived, and they don’t fit the pattern of any of the regular storm activity I’ve observed. And they’re coming from beneath the surface.”
“If it’s not due to the storm, what do you think is creating them?”
She hesitated for a long moment, not sure that she was willing to put her unspoken theory into words, but for some odd reason she trusted Z-542. He might not believe her, but he wouldn’t ridicule her or call her stupid.
“It’s as if there’s something down there. Something… alive.”
He studied her, his expression unreadable, and she found herself holding her breath. They both knew it should be impossible. Previous scientists hadn’t found any indication of life on Mars, not even from eons ago when there had been water on Mars.
“How would it survive?” he asked finally, his voice neutral.
“I don’t know. Maybe the terraforming process has awakened something.”
“Something?” He frowned and tapped the screen. “Something not small, if it can affect these readings.”
“I’m not sure,” she sighed. “I’m not even sure it is a living thing, but there has to be something down there. The signals are just too regular and consistent.”
“Maybe.” He tapped the screen again, a thoughtful frown on his face, then he gave a decisive nod. “If we’re going to find out, we need to go deeper.”
“We?”
The thought of sharing her discovery—if there was anything to discover—should have irritated her, but for some reason she felt a flash of pleasure at the idea of sharing it with him.
“You can’t do it alone,” he said, and the momentary pleasure vanished as she frowned at him.
“I don’t need anyone’s help,” she snapped, but he only smiled, and something about the way his eyes gleamed made her stomach clench.
“We’ll see.”
Then he turned back to his monitor, leaving her staring after him, trying not to admire the stubborn line of his jaw, the firmness of his mouth…
But he was right about one thing—they did need to go deeper.
