STARCROSSED Part: 2

2.

         Blocks of data scrolled across the interface panel and I ticked off each status-marker in my head, alert for anything that wasn't what it should be.  According to everything I was reading, after nine days and seventeen hours the escape pod was still performing optimally.  I'd had flight training but I wasn't a pilot so the degree of automation incorporated in this bucket's design was a good thing.  Synchronized intuitive processors intent on assuring our continued survival tirelessly managed tasks ranging from navigation to our caloric intake.

         But it never hurt to double-check.  At least once every twenty-six hours I would, keeping myself apprised and keeping the command/control network on its nonexistent toes.  It never complained  and it never lied.  When the diagnostics completed, equations involving our current heading, velocity, distance traveled and estimated time and distance to the nearest registered worlds took over the display.  I looked at the estimates and rubbed the bridge of my nose; honesty was not always comforting.

         Following the escape protocol I selected when we launched, the pod was obediently continuing along the course the Bonaventure had been on.  Agencies handling search & retrieval would backtrack the logged flightpath but they weren't regulated and they never worked for free.  Last I checked I wasn't wealthy and there wasn't enough of the Bonaventure left to fill an ashtray, much less salvage.

         Simply put-- and mathematically confirmed by the computer-- we were fucked.  Insult to injury, the propulsion system was built for minor maneuvers not the superluminal speeds needed to cover interstellar distances.  At it's maximum velocity the pod might reach Olyn Prime in a few thousand years.  I deactivated the interface and went back to my chair, the numbers stacked against us pissing me off.  Shysaanah-- still sleeping-- nuzzled up against me.  Warm and soft, she laid her head in my lap like a cat finding its place in the sun.

         She said I'd saved her life but I was a soldier and I knew my job wasn't done.  Yeah, we'd escaped that explosion but if we weren't picked up by a passing ship or didn't find a hospitable planet we'd die in this can.  The way she was, the way she made me feel...Shysaanah deserved better from the universe.  Karma had its past-due accounts on me but she was different.  Carnality notwithstanding she was...innocent, something I hadn't been for a long time.

         Amid our bleak situation we'd found an incendiary intimacy and she'd opened much more than her delicious body to me.  Over the past week I had truly come to know her and I'd even exposed things about myself that possibly nobody but me had ever known.  She believed in me, trusted in me to make everything alright.  Watching her sleep calmed me and I needed that.  I stroked the high curve of her cheek then down and across her lips, her exhaled breath hot on my fingertips.

         Moving, she rolled over, curling toward me.  Beautiful.  Her heavy lids opened and she looked up with those impossibly bright eyes.

         "Didn't mean to wake you," I apologized, wondering what my face was giving away.

         "You didn't wake me," she smiled.  "And I'm not sleepy anymore."  It was a lie but I accepted it without question.  My hand was on her cheek again and she interlaced her fingers with mine, keeping my palm tight against her skin.  "I know you didn't sleep, have you eaten?"

         "Nope, figured I'd wait."

         "Solomon, as good as I must taste you need actual food as well."

         I laughed and she squeezed my hand, smiling.  She was addictive...

         "These rations are absolute pa'Zuhkt but its all we have."

         "Pal-zooked?"

         "No," she giggled.  "pa'Zuhkt, it means shit."

         "Trust me, plenty of emergency rations taste worse."

         "Worse...?!?"

         "So bad it makes day-old dog shit seem gourmet."

         "Well, since you put it that way..."

*****

         The dispenser prepped two meal packs and every so often as we ate Shysaanah would look at me studiously, like she were making a decision.  I kept eating, knowing she'd speak up eventually.  She was from a different world, another species but women were women.

         "I had a dream today, the most wonderful dream."

         Bingo.

         "You were between my legs, in me, tickling me with your tongue and your fingers.  I felt you; you licked me, you stirred me, but I couldn't see you."

         "Maybe I was invisible."

         "No, it wasn't that.  It was...well, my belly was in the way."

         My mouth went dry.

         "It was so strange, so round and full.  I'd never thought of myself that way before..."

         "You were pregnant?"

         "Yes, and what you were doing to me...oh, Solomon, it felt so good it even made them move and--"

         "Them...?"

         "The Nystari always conceive in twins...or triplets."

         Well, that was new info.

         "Uhm, are you--"

         "Pregnant?  Oh, no...no.  It isn't nearly my time but when it is, after we are rescued, would you like me to be?"

         You've only known me nine days!

         I finished chewing and swallowed with effort, using the mouthful to stall my response.

         Damn, these meals really did taste like shit...

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