So what makes you think I'm impotent?" Thorgan asked, his voice tightly controlled.
Jolie looked everywhere in the lounge of the small space station except at him. She just couldn't meet his eyes right now. If she did, she just knew she'd break out in a horribly unprofessional blush, a blush that would make her feel even more young and incompetent.
Even though she was used to dealing with cyborgs--humans enhanced with improved mechanical and computer functions--Thorgan was a particularly intimidating example. He was huge and muscular, with craggy, masculine features that made her think about professional wrestlers and mercenary soldiers. The information in his file said that he had most of the strength and speed enhancements required by soldiers, so that made sense. You needed a strong body to support the stresses of those mods. And that imposing wall of muscle and testosterone and duplinium bones and computerized reflexes was glaring at her like she'd just attacked his masculinity.
Oh, wait a minute. She had attacked his masculinity. This wasn't good.
She chewed on her bottom lip. "Um, we have intelligence information that leads us to believe..." She took a deep breath and tried again. "Other Union cyborgs tell us that one of the standard techniques that the Union uses to control their cyborgs is to install hardware that makes an erection impossible, and then promise to fix it if the cyborgs work for decades with no pay."
She flicked a glance at Thorgan's face. His face still looked like a storm cloud--a very big storm cloud, since the top of Jolie's head probably wouldn't even reach to his chin. He made the small, shabby lounge seem even smaller. But she couldn't tell how he felt about hearing her claim.
"We'll fix what they did for free, if you join the Federation," she said in a rush.
Dead silence.
"But if you're not one of the cyborgs with this problem, I'll just be on my way." She stood up and started edging toward the door, panic flooding through her mind. If he really wasn't impotent, she had nothing to offer him. She was several parsecs away from the Union-Federation border, deep into enemy territory. He could turn her into the Union. Goddess, she might end up doing hard labor in some asteroid belt work camp.
He gestured sharply, and she stopped dead. "Sit down," he barked. "I'm not done talking to you."
She slumped back into the hard chair, and put her trembling hands into her lap.
He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his intense gaze taking in every last twitch of her face, she was sure. She had never been very good at acting, or even normal social interactions. What had made her think she could do this job? She must have been crazy.
"So, who are you, anyway?" he drawled. "Besides a scared little rabbit who shouldn't have come into this space station by herself without backup." A slight, wicked grin twitched one corner of his mouth. "Very large, strong backup."
Okay, she could handle this question. She cleared her throat. "I'm a cyborg doctor. I install and maintain cyborg systems and monitor the health of the cyborgs in my care. I have a degree from Altima University and did a residence--"
"Stop," he said. "I don't want to hear about all your degrees and training." His eyebrows rose. "So why did they send a cyborg doctor all the way out here? If it was to act as an expert witness, I don't know why I'd believe you any more than some vanilla Federation agent."
Now was the time for her sales pitch. They'd gone over how she was supposed to introduce this to the patient--uh, Thorgan--but she'd blown the whole first part of the routine. She tried to adopt a cheery, friendly look, and chirped, "I have my medical equipment with me. If you're prepared to sign up with us, I can offer you the reversal in a state-of-the art, portable medical facility, certified by the top medical board of the Federation Cyborg Medical Council. We're prepared to do tune-ups and..."
Thorgan stood up and stepped toward her, a definite threat in the tension of his massive, muscular body, his dark blue eyes narrowed on her face.
Her voice trailed away, as her throat tightened and her eyes widened in terror.
"You're saying you have the equipment to fix me here? Now?" he snapped.
"Yes." Her voice was a breathy croak. "Yes, I can even do the procedure today. It takes less than an hour."
Strong emotions passed over his face, but Jolie couldn't decipher them. She could guess, though. If she were a horny cyborg who had been rendered incapable of sex by his bosses, and just offered a fix, she thought she knew how she would feel. Anger, betrayal, anticipation...
"Why did you decide to offer me this deal?"
"You're by yourself on this space station with no other Union personnel around. It was a lot simpler than trying to contact a cyborg surrounded by people, or trying to extract a cyborg from an inhabited world."
He nodded. "How will I know that you've really fixed me?"
Jolie could feel her eyes widen even farther, and her gaze darted from side to side, but she saw only ancient cerastic benches and an outmoded entertainment console--no rescue. And that blush, the one she'd been trying to avoid through this whole interview, that blush made her face feel like it was on fire. "Uh, I think you should be able to tell in the ... the usual way."
He looked her up and down slowly. She was sure he was imagining her naked. A wicked, teasing smile spread over his craggy features, giving his face a sort of boyish charm. "My usual way is by having sex. With a woman." He turned around and sat back down on his chair, made a steeple out of his fingers and looked at her over them. "At least that's what I did before the Union put me out of commission six years ago. And it looks like you qualify. As a woman, I mean."
Oh, no. He wasn't suggesting ... He wasn't thinking ... He couldn't be. Not her. She wasn't that kind of woman. Men didn't just demand to fuck her. This wasn't, of course, the typical situation. She looked wildly around the room, as though some other female would pop out of the air, when she knew perfectly well that they were alone on this space station, without another woman within millions of miles.
His voice was smooth as butter now. "I'll accept your offer--if you put yourself totally in my hands sexually." He nodded, his lips twisted in thought. "Yes, you agree to be my sex toy and I'll sign up." There was more wicked amusement on his face.
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