Another time. With his nerves raw, he fully needed to be the one in command.

Clothing?

None. What was the point? He was here to satisfy his l.u.s.t.

Skill level?

Expert. No hesitation there. He preferred a partner who knew exactly what she was doing. Teaching isn't for him, and he moved on, swiftly choosing music, something with a beat.

Scent?

Orangeflower.

Wall color?

Golden. No. He needed no reminder of the golden cone of light that had caused his aroused condition. Scarlet. Yes. To match his pa.s.sion.

Lighting?

Bright starlight wh an ebbing moon across a black velvet sky.

35.

He chose humidity and temperature. Although furniture was totally unnecessary, since the null grav in his suit could float him, he liked the ambience of a large bed.

Finally, he punched in his last decision and let the sophisticated machine do its work. If he'd preferred, he could save his choices in the system for his next visit. But each time he came here he vowed it would be the last, telling himself he should find a real woman. But he never had the time... Besides, as a man who'd become accustomed to guarding his privacy from a certain inquisitive computer, he didn't like leaving clues to his activities behind.

He helped himself to a shot of rare Maldebaran whiskey. Tossing back the expensive liquor only whetted his appet.i.te to release his tension. Hoping physical satisfaction would banish the fantasies he couldn't expel from his mind, with one psi thought he altered his suit to transparent, removed the artificial shield on his tavis, and immediately rose to full arousal. Muscles strung taut, he closed his eyes, gritted he teeth, tried not to recall Dora's s.e.xy tone. And waited.

The subtle scent of orangeflower struck first, letting him know Xentos had arrived.

He opened his eyes to the sight of bronze skin glistening in starlight. Her features were flawless and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were larger than his last visit, making her slender waist seem more narrow. If her perfection spoiled him for other women, he cared not. If she wasn't real, he cared not. If she was nothing life impertinent, saucy, sa.s.sy Dora all the better.

Xentos looked real, felt real, smelled real. Her skin was as warm as mola.s.ses on just-baked bread. So what if she had no personality? She welcomed him with no hesitation, no judgment, no awkwardness.

She wasn't real.

But Zical didn't want real. He wanted release, plain and simple, with no complications.

He'd already had one unsatisfying relationship with Summar and he wasn't about to start another with the wrong woman. Next time, his wife would be of his choosing.

Next time, his wife would be a partner, a woman who measured up emotionally, a woman who matched his pa.s.sion with her own. So a night with Xentos might not be as intellectually stimulating as talking to a real woman or a sentient computer like Dora, and nowhere near as emotionally satisfying as the true bond Kahn shared with his life mate. However, a few hours with Xentos, Zical would once again be thinking with a clear head.

He closed his mouth over her welcoming lips. Lips that parted and applied the exact amount of pressure to satisfy, compel, tease. Mmm "Kiss me, again," she murmured and he needed no urging. Her arms around him were so close to the real thing that he could lose himself in her sensuality. While he found it ironic that he was using a machine to sate the desire that another machine had initiated, the situation only made him more determined to return to normal.

As Zentos's b.r.e.a.s.t.s brushed against his bare chest, Zical thought of Dora. Her personality placed in a body was scary, intriguing, fascinating idea. Dregen h.e.l.l she'd

36.

be a handful for some lucky man. Zical wished he'd asked more questions, wondered how far along she was in be process.

As his hands closed over Xentos's delicious b.r.e.a.s.t.s be realized Dora was correct. He liked b.r.e.a.s.t.s that overflowed his hands. With a happy sigh, he dipped his head for a taste and fantasized that be heard Dora's voice cooing a response, felt Dora's nipples hardening beneath his lips, held Dora's body in his arms.

The golden cone of light might have encouraged his fantasy. Or perhaps the idea of Dora's experiment to merge with a body was suggestively responsible. Zical only knew the combination of Xentos's still and his erotic visions of Dora, were more than enough to set him on fire.

In his mind, the holosim's body and Dora's personality merged into one, a definite turn-on. It was Dora's cheek he cradled in his palm. Dora's body he swept weightlessly into his arms. Dora's full curves molding to his hard muscles. Dora who buried her face in his throat, who nipped his neck, who slowly and seductively welcomed him into her synthari.

Dora worked at fall capacity. Zical's find had her circuitry busy examining, identifying, cataloguing, and comparing the images she'd scanned with data on every ancient race. In addition, she carried on her normal subroutines, routing communications, monitoring satellites, and collecting details on everything from their trade routes, to economic conditions on Zenon, to a new volcano forming on Mystique's primary moon.

She also oversaw the growth of her body, reminded Miri to give Kirek his vitamins, and transferred Tessa's growing credits to yet another bank, following standard orders to diversify. Meanwhile, she continued to seek out new high growth opportunities where Tessa could invest the family's wealth.

She spared a tiny iota of her faculties for personal use. It was so like Zical to omit sharing the important data about how the golden light beam had s.e.xually aroused him.

However, humans tended to be irrational about their s.e.xuality. Although Dora respected their feelings, she had newer really understood The human concept of privacy, shyness, or embarra.s.sment when it came to mating. When Zical had chosen to keep his erection a private matter, she'd remained silent practicing discretion.

She'd learned time and again that while the urge for humans to mate was almost as basic as breathing and eating, her friends tended to be touchy about their s.e.xual requirements. Although Dora thought it perfectly normal for an unconscious Zical to lose control of his psi, his suit, and his body's natural urges, he'd clearly wanted to keep the information to himself.

Under normal circ.u.mstances, she wouldn't have devoted another nanosecond of thought to the matter, except that after Zical regained consciousness, he'd seemed on edge, quietly determined, with a maddening edge of secrecy about him.

37.

When he abandoned his portable unit at home, he'd aroused her curiosity. Without much difficulty, Dora tracked him from his apartment as he flew a skimmer into the city. After he landed and exited the skimmer, she caught him on security monitors, until he turned down a street that had none. Her inquisitiveness piqued she aimed a satellite scanner on him, but once he entered a building, she lost him.

She tried to tap an outside communication line, but there were none. Most commercial establishments took a thumbprint and debited a bank account after people made purchases. But again, she found no outside connections. Interesting.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, Dora enjoyed nothing more than a good puzzle.

What was Zical up to? What kind of establishment had he entered? Dora checked her city maps against the licensing board and came up with nothing. Odd. She checked the owner of the property and found out the land was part of the public domain, like a road. Stranger still.

Most likely illegal activities went on there.

Patiently, Dora kept searching for a link to go in. But whoever had built the place had taken great care to keep her out. If she hadn't been following Zical's progress she would never have noticed the place. Dora could be patient, and her persistence paid off.

Finally, she found a man who walked into the building with his portable unit turned off. Threading her way past the lock, Dora overrode his switch, but kept the warning light darkened. If she'd been human, her activity would have been suspect, but the law allowed Dora some lat.i.tude. If she was concerned about human life, she could override a portable unit's function's.

And she was very concerned about Zical. He'd talked Kahn into putting off the physical and psych evaluation, until tomorrow. And his face had been so taut, his muscles, so lease, that she was certain he had something to hide.

Since Dora didn't believe that the golden alien light could rattle a starship pilot renowned for his bravery, she wanted to know why Zical had broken his routine Normally, he spent his planetside evenings eating a light dinner with the family but not tonight, even though Miri, who was an artist in the kitchen was preparing Zical's favorite roast in its own salt juices, terrines of potatoes in a flaky pastry, fresh beans with ginger and sweet almonds, and spiced cheese and a fruit wine for dessert Nor would Zical normally miss after dinner discussions and strategizing with Kahn about how soon the Endekians might regroup and attack Mystique- especially tonight when they would be contemplating how to explore the Perceptive Ones' machines within Mount Shachauri.

However, he'd said, nothing to Kahn, Tessa, Miri, or Etru about his plans. Of course he was a grown man and a longer needed to explain his whereabouts, but it was common courtesy to let people who cared about him know where he was, and Zical was always most courteous. Etru and Kan would be disappointed if he didn't arrive for dinner. Shaloma had planned to show him a sketch she'd done and Kirek looked forward to sitting on Zical's lap and hearing a story. The man had the right to disappear without a word, but they would worry, probably ask her his location.

38.

Dora needed to make sure he was all right, didn't she?

When the man whose portable unit she'd, infiltrated strode into the building, Dora secretly entered with him. Within moments she understood. Men and women came here to have s.e.x with holosims, computer-generated companions. Zical had come here to release pent-up physical desire. But why did he feel he must sneak when he had no wife, no woman he was promised to?

His activity was not illegal, and although Rystani society frowned upon using holosims, most cultures did not. Terrans tended to have different values, their single people seen nothing wrong with premarital s.e.x. Free to enjoy one another, Terrans didn't often frequent this kind of establishment. On the other hand, Rystani were expected to wed early; family values were encouraged. But the war had altered their way of life, although single Rystani people had the same needs as those who were wed, they had no outlets.

Dora restrained a sigh. Zical could have saved her one h.e.l.l of a lot of trouble if he'd simply informed her of his intentions. But no, the man had to keep his secrets.

Now that she knew what he was up to, she couldn't suppress her envy of the holosim. Although she did not yet have her body Dora wanted Zical to come to her to slake his pa.s.sions. She wanted Zical to put his arms around her, kiss her, make love to her. His warmth and creativity were wasted on a holosim, who wouldn't exist after he left the room. However, Dora would be able to remember every moment... And thinking about, what he was doing right now increased her antic.i.p.ation, escalated her determination to become fully human.

Dora was about to withdraw when her scanner on the portable unit got a look at the choices offered-choices Zical had selected from earlier-and a thrill of exhilaration zinged through her. If she could access the establishments computer, she could discover exactly what kind of woman Zical found attractive.

Unfortunately the building had no wiring. The computer was a somewhat primitive system that ran on generator power. Without radio waves, neurocircuitry, or physical contact with the processor, Dora couldn't access the data. She had no hands to press the b.u.t.tons-unless... A wild thought blasted through her brain.

"h.e.l.lo, there, Charen," she said from the voice box.

"Who said that?" Charen peered at his portable unit and scowled. "I turned you off."

"I have a proposition for you." Dora ignored his complaint, hoping she could persuade him to do as she asked.

"What?" he leaned over the monitor to make his choices.

"If you'll pick what I ask, I will place enough credits in your account to pay for a week in this establishment."

"Are you trying to bribe me?"

39.

"Two weeks." Dora countered. She'd learned now to negotiate from Tessa, who'd learned from some megarich Earth tyc.o.o.n. Now Tessa was wealthier than any Rystani citizen. Dora had spent much of her own share of the family wealth to build her body, but she still had enough credits for a minor expenditure and couldn't allow such a rare opportunity to pa.s.s.

"Done."

At Dora's instruction the man punched several b.u.t.tons and Dora scanned the data, her core filling with exhilaration at the physical choices Zical had made. Oh yes. She borrowed one of Zical's favorite phrases. Dregan h.e.l.l, Zical had incredibly good taste.

The innumerable body choices that had prevented her from making final decisions were nm narrowed down to one.

She was going to be beautiful. Irresistible.

Chapter Four.

One month later a myriad of experts had crawled over Zical's find within Mount Shachauri, but although a mult.i.tude of theories abounded, no one knew for certain what the equipment did, whether or not for certain the Perceptive Ones had built the complex, or why. Although Dora remained involved in the project, her primary interest followed another path. She'd trained her replacement, and after numerous simulations, Kahn had given her the go-ahead to proceed with the transfer.

The calculations were complete and the decisions done. Her body was finally whole, the muscles trained, all the receptors prepared for the final connection. She was ready to transfer her complete personality and a portion of her memories and knowledge into her brain.

Tessa sat next to Dora's body, her face tense and worried, already holding her hand.

"How long will the process take?"

"A minute. Maybe two."

'That's all?" Tessa's fingers tightened on her hand.

Dora couldn't wait to find out what "touch" felt like and antic.i.p.ation hummed through her circuits. The laboratory lights were dim. Soothing music played softly in the background, Tessa had lit b.u.t.terberry blossom incense.

They'd decided to keep things simple. No audience in the room, just Dora and Tessa with medical doctors and computer specialists on call if needed. For a moment Dora wished Zical could have been there too. But she wanted him to think of her as human. As a woman. His presence at her unusual birth might alter what she wanted his perception to be.

Dora had spent months compartmentalizing the data she wished to take with her.

She'd used the last week to pare down, the load to fit her human brain. And she'd even rehea.r.s.ed, limiting one part of her persona to the same parameters that her "'human"

mind would perceive. Without millions of sensors transmitting a constant stream of data, she was cut off from the world, but hopefully prepared for the isolation.

She'd just as carefully trained her muscles with exercise and stimuli. The connections to walk and talk as well as other everyday functions had been hardwired into her motor functions. She should be fine. The transfer should go smoothly-yet such a feat had never been done.

But there had to be a first time tor everything. She was ready. Eager. Nervous.

"I'm cutting off my personality from the hard drive," she told Tessa.