Machine Man (serial)

“Clavicle,” I said. “Well, let’s talk bones. They’re only strong and lightweight by biological standards. I can think of six carbon polymers that are lighter and stronger off the top of my head.”

“Because I don’t want to break.” Lola probed her clavicle with her fingers. Her skin glowed almost red in the light of the setting sun.

“Exactly. You don’t.”

“It feels vulnerable.” She took my hand and pressed my fingers to her clavicle. “Don’t you think?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“And my ribs?” She guided my hand lower, over her sweater, until my fingers rested on the Better Future logo. An inch lower, the word DARING rose and fell across her right breast. “Should they be carbon polymer, too?”

“I…”

“Because I got shot. My ribs were not bulletproof.”

“Exactly. If they… if we had… done something about that…” The air was thickening. I could barely suck it in. “Carbon polymer is… just… an example. There are several… lightweight…”

“They put pins in my ribs. Can you feel them?” She moved my hand lower. I touched DARING.

“Oh, God.”

“I like you, Charlie.”

“I… like…”

Her fingers closed over my other hand. I was wearing a glove, because earlier I had attached some remote-sensing digits for electronic work, and I didn’t want to knock them on things. “Can you feel… with this one?”

“I’m… not sure. They mainly convert electromagnetic signals into language my nerves can understand. For example, the radio spectrum around three gigahertz feels like candy floss.”

“What do I feel like?” She moved my hand up, toward the side of the sweater that said VISION. Her eyes locked onto mine. It was a highly charged moment. Then my hand twitched and I jabbed my fingers into her sternum.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry!” I pulled back my hand. “I didn’t…”

“It’s okay.” She pressed closer. “Try again.”

“Um,” I said, distracted. Because pulling my hand away from Lola’s chest, that had been harder than it should have.

80.