AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He weaved between hooded cloaked beings. 86.2568 percent of them were human, according to his life-form scans. The rest were a variety of humanoids.
None of them turned their heads in his direction or indicated in any other way they’d noticed his presence.
He was moving faster than their visual systems could track. All the beings would see was a blur of darkness between the overhead lights.
Strike reached the Minister of Manufacturing’s domicile in mere moments. The structure was situated at the edge of the settlement. It was surrounded by high walls with recording devices positioned on top of them.
He slowed his speed.
That was a necessity. A rambunctious crowd had gathered close to the gates.
Beings argued vehemently with the guards. Despite their passionate pleas, the guards shook their heads and slashed their hands through the air, denying them entrance.
They weren’t on the invitation list, they were told.
Land transports waited outside the walls. Beings milled around the small ships, chattering and laughing and, in the case of a female and two males, breeding.
Faces and forms were concealed to human-level visual systems.
Mostly.
Every twentieth heartbeat, on average, there would be a flash of a bare leg or a glimpse of a nose. And that display caused the crowd to shout and cheer.
Strike saw the countenances in the hooded cloaks. He noted their expressions—their glee, their desire, their confusion, and their excitement.
And he heard everything.
He stood in the middle of the mass of beings and listened. Being a cyborg, he could track millions of conversations at once. He searched through the din for any mention of the pulsing sound.
There was talk of a peace agreement with barbarians, much relating of potential breeding partners, odes to the excellence of different types of fermented beverage, rumors of a possible decrease in credits allocated to the planet’s military.
There was no mention of unusual sounds or the creation of a potentially world-threatening weapon.
Strike shifted his weight from his right booted foot to his left. The beings on Syndiculous 5 had no useful intel. His time on the surface had been wasted. He should resume his journey and?—
A small humanoid bumped against his back.
He ignored that jostling.
A pointed elbow then jabbed his body armor-clad lower back. Hard. That assault seemed…deliberate.
Strike turned.
A female in a shimmering multicolored cloak tilted her head back. Her gaze met his. Her eyes were so pale blue they were almost white. “Your female needs your protection.” The female’s voice was felt, not heard. It seemed to bypass his auditory system and go straight to the center of his chest. “Look toward the east.”
He couldn’t resist glancing in that direction.
A being ran after a departing transport. They wore a black cloak with bright-green edging. The fabric stretched around a curvaceous form.
They had both of their hands raised. Their fingernails were short and immaculately clean. Their skin was the brown of uncovered soil touched by a sun’s rays.
A gust of wind blasted Strike’s face. The most decadent aroma accompanied it.
He breathed deeply. The scent was warm and rich and tantalizingly feminine.
Need rushed through his circuits. His cock hardened, pressing against the confines of his body armor. One word dominated his processors, replaying over and over.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
