He wondered if her lack of emotion when she spoke of Charon was a mask. She turned into the machine everyone expected her to be. If she had done it around Charon, he might have never realized her mind had so many nuances. She had good reason to hide her development from Charon; it could threaten his plans, especially if she was forming a conscience. If she wore the mask as a survival mechanism to fool Charon, that suggested she didn't want him to reprogram her. It wasn't exactly free will, but it gave Thomas hope.

Then again, he was her prisoner. He might be imagining development where none existed because he wanted to live."Do you want Charon to return?" he asked.Alpha got up and began to pace. "I need orders. The ones I have don't apply.""Come work for me."She stopped at the end of his bed and frowned at him. "What?""Charon is gone. You need a purpose. Work for the NIA."

"You're my target. Not my boss."

"Your boss isn't coming back."

She went to the other bed and sat cross-legged on it, facing him. "We're going to Charon's base. If I must

operate in his absence, I will develop a plan that best carries out his objectives as I know them."

"Alpha-"

"No." She raked her hand unevenly through her hair. "I think you should sleep. It has a recuperative

effect on sick humans."

She reminded him of a wild animal backed into a corner. He knew from his childhood on a farm that such an animal could turn violent. So he said only, "What are you going to do tonight?""Sit here. Until you're done sleeping."He shifted on the bed. "You mean, you're going to sit there and watch me sleep?""Probably. Does that bother you?"What a question. "Yes.""Oh." She turned sideways and scooted up on the bed until she was sitting against the headboard. "I will face this way." She looked like a deadly high-fashion model with her long legs, black hair, and upward- tilted eyes, not to mention her black leather pants and skintight T-shirt.

"Are you really going to sit there all night?" he asked.

"It isn't necessary to move while I do a.n.a.lyses." She glanced at him. "Are you going to sleep?"

"I think so." He wasn't sure he could, and he wanted to do his own a.n.a.lysis, but he wanted even less to die of a coronary. So he pulled the bedspread over himself and closed his eyes.

Although he soon slipped into a doze, he kept waking up. The first few times he opened his eyes, Alpha was in the same position, her back against the headboard, her gaze unfocused as she stared down the length of the bed. In his half-awake state, his body reacted to the way she filled out that black T-shirt.

She hadn't worn a bra, and her nipples pressed against the cloth. He wondered if her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were as firm as they looked. Then he felt like an idiot for getting hot and bothered over a forma. He tried to distract himself by contemplating the engineering problem of how she could have such good mammary suspension without any support, but that just made it worse. When he drifted off, his dreams simmered with images of Alpha.

The fourth time he awoke, she was sitting cross-legged again, watching him. He hoped to h.e.l.l she hadn't guessed what he had been dreaming. He doubted it, but it embarra.s.sed him anyway.

Thomas pulled several pillows under his head to prop himself up. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I do a.n.a.lyses," she said. "I come to conclusions. However, I haven't been able to answer one question."

"What is that?"

"Why didn't you have me dismantled?"

He answered quietly. "It didn't seem right."

"Why not? It was a logical move to ensure I didn't escape."

"It felt like murder."

She sat for a time looking at him. Then she said, "Thank you."

He wasn't sure he wanted to be thanked, given that his decision had landed him in this situation.

"You are a conundrum," she added.

"Why is that?"

"You are less ruthless than I calculated."

"You never saw me in an F-22," he said dryly.

"A fighter. A beautiful machine."

It surprised him that she understood. "Yes."

"You are also."

He couldn't help but smile. "A beautiful machine?" She could be describing herself. Perhaps that was another reason she fascinated him. She was like a jet fighter, beautiful and deadly.

Unexpectedly, she said, "Yes."

"h.e.l.l, Alpha, I'm neither attractive nor mechanical." Right now he just felt old.

"According to my studies of male beauty, you qualify in that area." She considered him. "More than qualify."

Thomas had no idea how to respond to such a statement from a forma. From a woman, yes. It might be an invitation. Alpha simply presented it as if it were a fact.

"You are also a machine acting out a program," she added. "It is encoded in your biological brain rather than a matrix, but you respond to previously coded programs much as I do."

"I suppose you could describe human behavior that way." He had heard the philosophical debate before.

"But we have more mental flexibility and complexity than most machine intelligences."

"So you think."

"You don't?"

"I haven't decided yet."

He grinned at her. "But you've decided I'm a looker, eh?"

"Looker?" She continued to study him with her unsettling focus. "Ah. I see. A good-looking person of the desired s.e.x. Are you suggesting that I desire?"

"Can you?" He couldn't help wondering. Had she been human, she would be having a dramatic effect on him. h.e.l.l, she was anyway, which was even more unnerving.

Her voice changed, turning low and husky. "Yes. I can."

His skin tingled. "I don't see how."

"I experience a state akin to physical pleasure."

"How? You're a machine." It wasn't literally true; an android had more biological tissue than mechanical parts. He was suddenly more aware of her looking at him. His reaction wasn't only physical, either.

Everything about her drew him.

"I have sensors that produce sensations in my body," she said. "I process those sensations in a manner I find satisfying."

Thomas knew he should let it go, but his curiosity got the better of him. "In other words, you can enjoy s.e.x."

Her gaze seemed to darken. "Oh, yes."

He cleared his throat. "I see."

"Do you? I'm programmed for one man. Just that one. Charon." Her emotions vanished like a doused light, but it wasn't complete this time. Something akin to hatred simmered behind her mask. "I have to remain loyal to him regardless of how I feel about it."

"You feel something about it?"

"No." She lifted her hand as if to defend herself. "No."

Thomas took a slow breath. "You're lying."

She put down her hand. "I can't lie."

"Then what was that s.e.xual come-on to me at the safe house?"

"You prod me to see what happens. I prod back."

"You call abduction 'prodding'?"

"I call it duty. You want to copy my mind. It's just as bad."

"And if this kills me?"

Softly she said, "That must not happen."

"Then take me back." He willed her to see it his way. "Work with us, Alpha. You don't have to be Charon's slave."

"Slavery is a human concept." She motioned at the bed. "You should rest. Build strength. If you need the pills, let me know."

"Alpha-"

"No." She shook her head. "No more."

Do my words frighten you? But he let it go. She was right, he needed to sleep, far more than he had so far managed. Whether or not he had many more days when he would wake up remained to be seen.

VIII: Quicksilver Killer

Thomas slept in the car. He lay on the backseat with his head propped up on pillows. He had stuffed the s.p.a.ce between the front and back with cushions from the bungalow to create a surface level with the backseat, so he could keep his broken leg level. He dozed on and off, never rousing for more than a few minutes. Alpha sat in the front and let the car do the driving. Judged from the sun, they were going east.

Sometimes he awoke to find her watching him; other times she was staring off into s.p.a.ce, calculating who knew what.

It was dark when he finally awoke and stayed awake. He was stiff from sleeping in the car, but with his preparations, it hadn't been so bad. The ache in his leg had receded. He sat up slowly and shifted the pillows so he could put his back against the door and stretch out his leg on the seat. Alpha had taken off the headrest and was sitting sideways with one arm stretched across the seat back, watching him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better." Thomas pushed at his hair, which was too long. Maybe the barber would wonder why he hadn't showed up today for his appointment and try to contact him. Probably not. It wouldn't be the first time

Thomas had missed a haircut. He was meticulous about job-related appointments, but without Janice to remind him, he kept muddling up his personal schedule.

"Do you need more pills?" Alpha asked.

"Another aspirin."

She gave him one. "Are you hungry?"

He chewed and swallowed the aspirin. "Yes." Starving.

She brought out sandwiches and bottled water she had taken from the bungalow and gave them to him.

Thomas tore open the wrapper on his food. He hadn't eaten in over a day, and this morning he hadn't wanted anything except water.

"It won't be much longer," Alpha said.