***

Netto overlooked the agri-lot. It was the nearest to the settlement and had only taken twenty minutes of travel by watership. They never fully left the shallows and not much but schools of fish passed beneath the boat.

The mist dispersed as the morning sun came out. He rubbed his hands together, waiting for the ship to slow down. They approached a barricade of rocks that lined the agri-lot. The water within the lot was shielded by those rocks and it gave it a mirrored effect. He could see everything, straight down to the sand and nuggets at the bottom, and the abundant, undisturbed wildlife throughout.

Zeph hunched over their personal sensory system that fed them continuous updates.

“You smell like her.”

Netto looked back to see his partner wearing a lopsided smirk. He did smell like Rylie but had filtered it out. It was safer that way. “Not for long.”

Zeph’s smirk widened. “There’s not much out here. Should we be on the lookout for anything...monstrous below the waters?”

“We should always be on the lookout,” Netto replied, checking his own gear as the glass enclosure lifted away from the boat and pulled back into its panels. It went down in threes: the top deck lowered first, followed by the stern, and once that had peeled back from the seal, the doors dropped straight into the ship. What had looked like a bullet now appeared as a high-tech tugboat.

“You’ve been in these waters before,” Zeph stated more than asked.

“The oceanic survey was never completed.”

Zeph chuckled, then leaned back into a huff of full-on laughter. The noise of his sardonic snigger had Janet appearing from the steps, and it died away into a smile.

“Leave it to the government to lie.” Zeph’s eyes never left the girl as she came forward. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Netto tuned them out. The ship came to a smooth stop beneath them and when he looked over the side, the water was visible under the mist. He linked with Zeph’s readings and found nothing unusual within the vicinity. Do I even know what unusual would be?

He peeled off his shirt and flexed, running diagnostics on his internal metalloid structure. There was one thing he and Zeph had in common, that nearly all other Cyborgs couldn’t relate to: salt-water shifters had to constantly maintain themselves from the deterioration that water brought.

The need to be in it, constantly. An obsession.

The allure of an endless ocean, to which outer space could never compare, was heady. Especially to a shark.

Netto looked up when his systems finished, his nanobots at the ready to wear off the worst of it, to Janet staring at him. He couldn’t discern the look in her eye so he ignored it and prepared to jump overboard.

Montihan joined them, followed by Rylie—who looked at everything but him.

“This is our closest lot and one of the last ones to be affected. The stones here are our most viable this season,” Montihan said as he lowered a drop-off platform. “The outer lots aren’t in season.”

“Nothing is in season,” Janet murmured under her breath. She tugged off her shirt, revealing a wetsuit underneath that left nothing to the imagination. For a moment, a plume of lavender breezed by before it vanished into the fog. His nose twitched as his systems dispersed it. The smell of Earth on an alien planet, countless miles away, was strange to him.

“Why do you say that?” Zeph asked, his eyes narrowing on the blonde but her gaze was still on his partner. Netto tensed under her blatant perusal and felt relief when the girl looked away. He glanced at Rylie who seemed even more tense, her movements stiff as she pulled on a pair of water shoes.

“The swimmers have yet to arrive. They lay eggs in the jetties that pollinate the nuggets. There have been some, but not the enormous groups we usually expect. If their mating cycles are disrupted, it would affect our crops. And even if it did, if we have a rather stormy season, they move onto one of the other lots farther out. Our lots cycle with their cycle. Maybe someone is breaking the cycle?” Her question came out thoughtfully.

“I take it they cycle through all the lots up and down the coast?”

Montihan nodded.

“Has been that way since the EPED set up Kepler for colonization. There have been fewer groups throughout but we still get’em coming through. It would be a gargantuan effort for someone to harvest enough swimmers to hurt us, and I think we’d have heard about it by now. That amount of fish on the local market wouldn’t go unnoticed, not with how small our community is and not with how often my wife goes to the colony.”

The brume began to clear around them as broken rays of Kepler’s sun threaded through the mist. Their insular circle widened and as Netto looked around, he could see out into the water, beyond the rocks that encircled the inlet. He ran his tongue across his teeth, eager to transform within the waves.

“They’re good eating?” Zeph inquired, pooling information between them. They kept their wireless connection up.

“No. Not unless you like a lot of bones in your fish. The effort that goes into preparing ‘em isn’t worth the outcome.” Montihan sat down beside Netto. “So what’s the plan?”

“Check your lots and look for disparities. If the results are inconclusive, we’ll head out to the other settlements and find out what they know,” Zeph said. It was brief and vague. Netto nodded in agreement.

“So, nothing we can’t do ourselves.” Janet stood up and smiled, feigning sweetness with her blatant taunt.

Everyone looked at her. He even noticed Rylie’s head lift in his periphery. Janet walked over to her sister before descending the stairs to the lower deck; Rylie quickly disrobed down to her wetsuit and followed her.

Something shifted inside of him and it wasn’t his metal plating. A voracious need bloomed from his chest that affected every muscle, every fiber of his crafted being. It was more than the need to protect, though he couldn’t quite place what it was. But as his eyes drifted across the slim lines of her toned body, her skin bronzed to perfection under the ocean’s sun, he wanted to exert himself over her.

Netto’s heart pounded. It was primitive and visceral, consuming and dangerous. He pictured himself sinking his teeth into Rylie’s perfect skin, her blood flooding his mouth, as he claimed what he wanted.

Her.

The breathy, beach smell that she emitted called to his baser instincts. Both of his hands clenched into fists at his sides. An erotic image of her small body, exposed to his beast and under his command, flooded his eyes with red.

He heard the splash of water as the girls entered the ocean. He was barely aware of Montihan popping open a beer, ignorant of the danger both of his daughters were in.

It wasn’t until Zeph clasped his shoulder that brought him back to the present.

“You need to calm down.”

“She’s mine.” The words were a low but audible hiss through his teeth. Netto didn’t care if Montihan heard him.

“You’re going to kill her if you don’t find control.” Zeph’s hand tightened its grip on his shoulder. The words burned through his thoughts. The raw tension slowly eased. His partner’s hand lifted away.

When the red vanished from his eyes, apprehension took its place as Zeph came into view. “Thank you,” he grunted, glancing at their host, who was busy poring over his wristcon and a hologram of data.

“You’re welcome,” Zeph lowered his voice just enough for only him to hear. “If this was any other mission, I would encourage you to take her, but this isn’t. It’s diplomatic. And her father is sitting not twelve feet away. Fuck, Netto.”

“How do you control yourself?” Netto asked.

“Are you asking me for advice?” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re a...virgin,” Zeph guffawed, and leaned forward, eyes searching him. “And here I was, about to rip you to shreds and plant your twisted head on a spike.”

The statement caught Netto off-guard. In fact, everything about the last several minutes unnerved him, from his loss of control to Zeph's amused rage.

Netto bared his teeth at the Cyborg. "You'll be dead before you land your first blow." The plating in his back shifted, ready to expand out and attach itself to his head, to his legs, to every mechanical part of him.

Zeph laughed and tore off his shirt. But didn't move forward in challenge, instead, he moved away from him and strode to the ladder.

“We're wasting daylight. My advice? Stay here and focus. I'll check out the lot,” he said, slipping off his boots. Netto approached him, his frame towering over the other Cyborg, inhuman in his height.

‘I'm not done with you.’

To anyone who would see them, Montihan or his daughters, potential spies on the horizon, they looked as if they were having a tense conversation. No one would guess that he and Zeph were on the brink of a fight.

“For someone who is needling me to lose control, Zeph, I wonder who actually needs the time to focus.”

“Sharkman, we want the same thing. We just want a different prize. You haven't told them what you are, what we are yet, and right now the beast is about to erupt. We can't risk you changing in front of them without warning. I can't risk it because if you do, their terror will spur my beast to come out as well.” Zeph kept his voice low and looked out over the inlet.

Netto followed his gaze, feeling the turmoil ebb, as his eyes followed the water that crystallized more with each passing second as the last of the fog dissipated.

He's right. They don't know what we really are. His eyes caught the girls perched on a nearby rock with what looked like a giant oyster between them.

“Keep away from her,” Netto said. His eyes landed on Rylie, who glanced back at him at that moment. Her beautiful murky blue eyes went wide for an instant before she looked away. The thought of Zeph near her was enough to splinter his composure.

“I'll stay.” It took everything within him to relent. Even his beast couldn't argue with the part of him that truly ruled his mind...his systems.

Without a word, he turned away and heard Zeph get into the water. The Cyborg was as silent as he was deadly, and though he heard the telltale signs of his partner’s glide, he knew no one else would. He knew because he was just as quiet in the water.

“Don’t get your hopes up.”

Netto caught Montihan looking at him through his holo-screen. He took a deep breath and tried to find that control, that focus that Zeph talked about even though his auditory system zeroed in and picked up Rylie’s heartbeat.

“Sir?” he asked and sat across from him.

“She doesn't like contact. Buggy’s always been hesitant to take one step off our land.” Montihan sighed. “It's a shame but we did the best we could for our eldest. And it's hard to raise a kid so far from civilization, all you have is hope. Hope that you don't fuck’em up. We raised her on the job, learning the tech. She spent most of her time with machines and the ocean but not much else. Rylie tolerates those who live and work on the settlement but she prefers being alone. I think strangers...large groups make her anxious. Sheryl and I did our best.” He laughed, looking beyond and out into the horizon. “At least she isn't stupid. Buggy thinks with her head and not her heart. She won't follow you if you choose her.”

Netto didn't know what to say, not at first. He always had retorts running through his head but rarely ever spoke up. This time he felt comfortable opening his mouth but had no words to do so.

Rylie didn't seem strange to him. She was guarded and that was a trait he cultivated and understood. It was a strength, but as he pondered Montihan's words he did recall her tension, her shuffling, her eyes always looking everywhere but at him. He thought it had to do with his horrid appearance, but now he wasn't certain.

Far in the background, laughter rose up with Zeph's voice accompanying it. Netto all at once wished this mission had ended when it was supposed to, before yesterday's dinner, before he met the Montihan family, before he felt the ever-burning desire to protect those who didn't want his protection.

“What do you plan on doing with her?” Montihan asked.

“Nothing.” Netto wished it were honest. He wanted it to be the truth.

“I know you Cyborgs have a 'way' when it comes to something you desire. I've met a few of you in my younger years. A soldier of the first order, front lines of the space fleet, and I often flew a drone alone. I commanded. Fought behind the walls of a spaceship. I also fought by hand when I had to. A man doesn't set his feet on the ground during a space-war without the ability to do so. I've met your kind before.”

“Thank you for your service.”

“Don't thank me for shit. You may outrank most red-blooded, woman-borne men but I'm retired and you're on my land now.” He turned off his wristcon and sat forward, wariness and age slowed his movements. “Cyborgs lose control.”

Netto stiffened and narrowed his eyes at the man. He had misjudged him. Montihan knew exactly what was happening with his daughters. “I don't,” he said under his breath, and for the second time that morning, he felt challenged by another alpha male.

“My girls can take care of themselves. They're adults and I've long since given up trying to control them. I know when to lose control and when to command it. She won't follow you. I trust you to not do anything stupid.”

With that, Montihan stood up and leaned over the side, calling out to his daughters for an update.

Netto sat back and looked up at Kepler's sun. He had seen many in his life but this one was different. It was frightening in its size, appearing closer to the planet than it really was. The sound of swimming roared to the forefront of his thoughts. He already knew Rylie's movement pattern and followed her progress back to the watership.

Control. He dreaded and waited for the moment she would step over the side.

Montihan had called him out and Netto knew it should have surprised him. Men rarely engaged with a Cyborg the way he had. It was dangerous, bordering on suicidal.

Janet stepped over the side and came straight toward him. He looked beyond her to catch sight of Rylie but was blocked by the other sister.

“You didn’t join us. I would’ve liked to see you swim,” Janet smiled down at him, standing closer than he liked. Rylie looked at him but he lost her as she turned away and went down to the lower deck. “You have the abs for it.” Netto turned toward the dripping wet blonde who trailed her finger over his stomach.

Netto caught her hand. “Don’t.”

“Don’t?” She canted her head, exuding a vulnerability that he didn’t think she had. Zeph came over the side at that moment, loaded with the oyster-like rocks under his arm. Netto expected murder, but what he got was stone. “I was told you guys are different than most of your kind.” Janet leaned in and put her hand over the one that still held hers. “Count me curious.”

“Every Cyborg is different.”

“Are they?”

Netto nodded and dislodged his hand from between hers as he stood. “Like every human is different. Let's go see what you've collected.”

He stepped toward Zeph and Montihan, who both looked over a table now scattered with the sea-rocks. Several were cracked open to reveal the interior contents, while some were pushed aside with their stones already removed.

“They're all cloudy,” Zeph muttered, annoyed.

Netto fished through the muck and couldn't find a stone that was clear. At least not clear enough to use. But he did smell the faded, almost indecipherable scent of blood.

He left the group and followed Rylie down the stairs, regardless of the eyes of the trio boring through his back.

The subtle smell of blood became clearer and he followed the trail back inside the ship and into the small kitchenette space opposite of the quarters. Netto stopped as Rylie hunched over a waterspout, still in nothing but her wetsuit and shoes. She was small, too small, too slight for any Cyborg, especially for a Cyborg like himself.

He caught her hand and the cut she was washing. She jerked away from him but couldn't stray far.

“You're hurt.” Netto peered down at the small scrape. It was nothing, a chafe at most, but he hated that it marred her skin.

“It's only a scrape. Happens all the time,” she huffed and tugged her hand. He didn't let her go.

“It can get infected.” He lifted the tiny wound to his face, the beautiful smell of blood filling his systems, and licked it. Rylie struggled away from him but he held her tight, licking and sucking on the blood.

“What're you doing!?”

She went unheeded as her taste filled his mouth. It made him hungry. It made him ravenous.

It made him lose control.

Netto didn't hear her protests as he positioned her into the corner, the smell of her sweat and her heart beat flooding his other senses. Her tiny body, toned and lovely, caught up against his.

He understood why Zeph wanted to kill him.

He dropped her hand.

Netto stormed out of the corridor, needing to get as far away from Rylie as he could.

Because if he didn't, he would force his will on her and feast on her flesh.