Havoc grinned. "You do not make me despair. You make me want to clasp you."
"In due course, Havoc. I long for your clasp. But first you need to fathom the reality of my mission."
"By studying you, I will appreciate the enormous power of the machines?"
"In part. Allow me to make a small demonstration. You will want samples of my substance to analyze in your Science Chroma laboratories. I will give them to you, in the process providing you with a hint of my potential."
"We have seen machines before."
"I am the most sophisticated machine ever to be released to this system. You have yet to grasp my properties."
"What of Mino?"
"Ask him."
Havoc turned to the arboretum's ceiling. "Mino," he said.
A panel became a window to the huge machine's control room. "Havoc," it acknowledged.
"This is Shee, a visiting machine. How does she compare to you?"
The intellect beyond the panel focused on Shee. "I am type 2 technology. She is type 2.5. She can destroy me."
"From here?"
"Affirmation. She has but to speak an applicable code, and I will become useless, or her slave. You should not have admitted her to your sanctum."
"She loves me."
"A machine does not love."
Shee lifted her hands and snapped her fingers twice.
"Correction," Mino said. "She is beyond the threshold, and does experience emotion. But I must warn you: her love is dangerous, because it is supported by power you are not equipped to comprehend. She—"
Shee snapped her fingers once more, cutting it off. The ceiling panel returned to its former state.
That was impressive. Havoc had never seen Mino controlled in that fashion. Shee evidently did know the codes.
Still, it wasn't certain.
"Conjecture," Havoc said. "One machine supports another, to make the demonstration more impressive."
"Now I will impress you directly," she said. She removed her slippers, dress, and headband and stood nude.
Havoc studied her carefully. He had assumed that her clothing had supported and confined her body to enhance its form, as was the case with most women, but now it was apparent that it was the other way around: her form supported the accouterments. Her feet were shapely, the toenails delicately iridescent, matching her eyes. Her hair now hung luxuriously loose to her waist, softly waved, flexing with her every minor movement. And her body—was man's desire. Havoc had seen many breasts, buttocks, and torsos, but none to match these proportions. She had indeed been crafted from an ideal template. "Awe," he murmured.
"First, one hair of my head. Do you care to snap it loose?" She separated her tresses to isolate a single long hair.
Havoc shrugged and took the end of the hair between thumb and forefinger. He jerked on it—and it didn't snap.
He took hold of it near her scalp with his other hand, and pulled hard—and it didn't snap. This was interesting, because as a Glamor he had inhuman power and could snap wires barehanded.
"Lift your hand high," Shee said.
"But that could hurt you."
"Hurt a machine?"
He clamped his finger on the hair and lifted his arm powerfully upward. And Shee came up with it. She dangled over the floor, suspended by the single hair. She was no heavier than a living woman her size would have been, but no such woman could be suspended this way.
He lowered her until she could stand again. Then he brought out his knife and cut at the hair. Unsuccessfully.
The thing was impervious to damage.
"Impressive," he conceded. "Every hair is similar?"
"Affirmation." She smiled. "Perhaps just as well, as my hair does not grow. It would not replace itself if cut. It is inorganic."
He stroked her hair with his hand. It was soft and flexible. He brought a hank to his face and sniffed it. It smelled faintly female. He would not have known it was not natural if he had not tested it.
She took the single strand, brought it to her mouth, and bit on it. It separated. She gave the severed strand to him.
Her teeth could cut what his stout knife could not. That spoke for her teeth as well as for her hair.
"Now your laboratory will want a sample of my urine."
"I will fetch a cup." Would she urinate in front of him? Many women would indulge in all manner of sexual exploits with abandon, but would not urinate in the sight of a man.
"Needless. Cup your hands."
Would she really do that? He bent down and extended his cupped hands.
She squatted over them, her thighs to either side of his arms. She jetted a small amount of warm liquid into them, then rose. "This actually is plumb juice. You may drink it if you wish."
Was that a challenge? Havoc raised his hands to his face and sipped. It was plum juice. He drank it all, rather than let it spill on the floor.
"You are succeeding in surprising me," he said as he licked his hands clean. It was a barbarian mannerism he seldom showed as king.
"All part of the demonstration. I can evacuate the pulp also, if you wish."
He smiled. "Another time, intriguing as the act might be to watch."
"Now you will need a drop of my blood. Take it." She held out her bare right arm.
"Hesitation: You wish me to cut you?"
"Satisfactory."
He brought out his knife and carefully sliced her forearm. The knife made no impression. He cut harder, still without result. "Invulnerable? Like the hair?" He put away the knife.
"Accuracy." She brought her left hand across and ran a fingernail across her right wrist. A cut appeared, from which welled a bright drop of blood.
Havoc hastily fetched a vial and captured the blood. Then she ran her finger over the cut, and it disappeared.
Havoc snapped his fingers. A manservant appeared. "Take these two samples to the science lab and have them analyzed," he said.
The man nodded and left with the samples, not even seeming to notice the nude woman standing there.
"Question," Havoc said. "What will they discover?"
"Invulnerable fiber and inorganic blood. They will be mystified, as neither matches anything they will have seen before."
"So you have demonstrated some of your special physical qualities. Accept my wonder as a given. What is next?"
She laughed. "I suppose I should seduce you, as long as I am naked. That would save me the trouble of dressing and undressing again in short order."
"Interest. But I have not kissed you thrice."
She frowned, prettily. "Expletive! He remembered."
Havoc enfolded her and kissed her.
She returned the kiss savagely. Then paused. "Request."
"Granted."
She smiled. "This first time, allow me to do it. All other times may be at your wish and manner. I will never deny you."
This was curious. "Virgin?"
"Nor will I deceive you. But I prefer not to answer that question."
"Withdrawn."
"Appreciation."
Then she got to work. She led him to a bed of moss she had spied, and took off his clothes, and laid him down upon that bed. His erection stood stiffly. She stroked it, then squatted over him and carefully lowered herself onto it.
The penetration was slow and not deep. There did not seem to be any obstruction; she did not have a hymen. But she was a machine; she could have been made without it. He withheld his orgasm until she was ready.
She put her hands on the floor beside him for additional support. Then she lifted one foot over his body, not breaking her shallow connection with his member. She continued turning, using hands and foot for support, until she faced away from him. Then she lowered herself the rest of the way, taking him in wholly, and lay back on him. Her head came to rest on his collar bone beside his neck. She reached out to find his arms, and lifted them up over her, placing his hands on her breasts.