by Eve Langlais
It narrowed the selection down, but some of the stuff appeared odd still.
“Earthling. Female,” he barked.
The hologram changed, and she stepped closer, fascinated. “Are you actually online galaxy shopping?”
Jules cast her a glance. “No need to purchase. I have a fabricator on board.”
“Which means?” she prodded.
“As long as it has raw material to use, and power, it can fabricate. You’ll see. Select something to wear.”
“Anything?”
“Unless you complained for nothing and would rather continue to wear my garments.”
The idea of clothes appealed. Aggie stepped closer still and cocked her head, looking at the many options. There was a cocktail dress—the red vivid, the fabric possibly clingy given the way the ghost body wore it. The ball gown also seemed a tad over the top with the hundreds of flowers sewn into the skirt. She saw some business wear—pencil-thin skirts and blouses, tailored slacks. A bikini—way too skimpy for any beach. A negligee to bring heat to her cheeks and then, finally, the comfy stuff. Yoga pants, tank top, sweater, and slipper-like shoes.
She pointed. “That one. How do we select a size?”
“You don’t. Stand still.”
“Why? EEP!” The yelp emerged as he stepped aside and a beam shot out of the cabinet.
“I said don’t move, or you’ll ruin the fabrication. These machines are rather simple at heart. It doesn’t take much to throw off the measurements.”
As he spoke, she noticed, despite the light bathing her body, she wasn’t in pain. Her skin did tickle, though.
The tickle turned to shock as the shirt and panties she wore disintegrated, falling to the floor in a fine ash. Leaving her naked.
And Jules watched!
She wanted to flip him a bird. Cross her arms over her boobs. However, his words of warning reminded her: no moving.
Aggie wasn’t entirely sure she could have, anyhow. Transfixed by his smoldering gaze, which lingered on her breasts before dropping to stare at the indent of her waist, she froze.
Literally couldn’t move. Only one part of her body pulsed with heat. Throbbed with life. Ached for him to show her that he remembered the kiss. Craved it like she did.
Desire wasn’t why her body shivered. The beam of light changed, going from a steady clear light to oddly muddy. A closer look showed teeny tiny particles, all kinds of colors. Primary colors that formed a film. They hovered around her body.
“Keep your arms and legs away from your torso,” he advised.
The command, of course, meant her arms trembled, begging to move. Her legs weakened as they struggled with the urge to run.
The strange fog around her body became denser. It also proved hard to watch. The particles blended and swirled. Knitting together quite literally, she realized.
It started to take shape, a fabric over her torso, snug bottoms. Layer upon layer.
The whole outfit was done in a few minutes, clothing her head to ankle. Still, she feared moving. “Is it done?” she whispered.
“Yes. It can’t hurt you.”
She dropped her arms and stared at the fabric. Peeled the sweater off and turned it in her hands. “That’s incredible. But if you can do this, then why did you have clothes in a cupboard?” she asked.
“Because when it breaks it can be difficult to repair. And it requires a great deal of raw material to work.”
“Can’t you just recycle stuff into it?”
He shook his head. “Would that it could.”
“It forgot one thing.” She pointed her foot. “Shoes.”
“Because the sole wasn’t accessible. Hold your foot in the air.”
A beam of light encased it and, within minutes, both feet had soft-soled shoes.
“That is the coolest thing ever,” she couldn’t help but exclaim. “What is it, like 3D printing?”
He snorted. “Tri-dimensional is not enough for an application such as this. Octensional is the only way to do it right.”
And there he went speaking gibberish again. His foreignness didn’t preclude her giving him hell though. “You should have warned me it would strip me.”
“How else would it dress you?” Said without the slightest hint of chagrin.
“You could have at least turned away.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not polite to gawk at a woman who is dressing.”
“I never claimed to be polite. Now, if you’re done haranguing and selfishly using the bed, I require some rest before we hit the eye of the worm.”
The expression was too odd not to remark on. “Eye of what?”
“The black hole that will get us out of this waste of a galaxy.”
7
“Stop insulting my galaxy. And Earth. And me, for that matter,” she growled.
Didn’t she grasp he had to? It was the only way to keep fighting her allure. A battle he might soon lose.
Her nude body remained imprinted in his mind. Made him desire her even more than before. A desire he had to fight. She asked if he was capable of empathy. Caring.
The answer was yes, but only for a select few. His crew. A few remaining family members.
And suddenly this woman. He’d known her only the shortest of time, most of it with her annoying him. Yet there was something about her that drew nonetheless. Her verbal fortitude. Her steamin’ body. And her unwillingness to cower despite everything thrown at her.
“It’s not an insult if it’s the truth. Your galaxy is ill positioned. The only thing of worth in it is your planet, and you are well on your way to ruining it.”
“We’re trying to do something about the pollution,” she huffed.
“Pollution isn’t what will kill your world.” He shook his head. “You will.” While she’d slept—longer than expected under the effects of the stunning he’d given—Jwls had finally taken a moment to study Earth and the humans inhabiting it a bit more. Curious as to what kind of creature he’d brought on board.
She continued to waste air. “Are you saying you think we’re close to a third world war?”
“War might actually slow down what will happen. Famine. You are consuming faster than your planet can renew. Things need time to break down. Reform.”
“What do you suggest we do?”
“Cull the majority of your population and make each citizen responsible for their own sustenance.”
“Not everyone is a farmer.”
“But that’s the point. Everyone should be,” he insisted. “It took a long time before my people understood. Before we listened to our planet.”
“Are you saying the cyborgs killed people off—”
“And restricted birth until the planet recovered.”
“That sounds—”
“Wildly logical and yet it took a long time for my people to accept.” Many Siyborgh ancestors balked at being told not only how many children they could birth but if they could. Only the most physically viable were chosen. Many traits died out
“Couldn’t you have just traded with other planets instead?”
“This happened before our true ascension into the universal order. And before the first gears were found. There were few other planets capable of providing back then. Our galaxy a seemingly impossibly big place.”
“But you muddled through and came out better in the end. I’m sure the people on Earth will too.”
Doubtful considering what he’d seen. “The fate of your people does not concern me. I’m fatigued. Not all of us got to scream and get carried around during the battle and then nap during the escape.”
“I did not nap, you zapped me. And are you implying I’m heavy?” She planted her hands on her hips. Anger sparked in her gaze.
Heat sparked him all over. “You are useless in a fight.”
“Yup.” She didn’t even deny it.
“I’m going to sleep.” Before he lost control and kissed her sassing lips.
“If you’r
e sleeping, who’s driving the egg?”
“The ship is on a set course.”
“What about asteroids and stuff? Shouldn’t we be watching for them?” She glanced anxiously out the dome.
“Anything large will set off an alarm. As will any black holes.”
“But I thought you said we were going to travel through a black hole. That it was safe.”
“Never said it was safe.” The small ones could tear apart a ship, splitting it up and spitting out chunks on its other side. “Now are you going to be quiet, or would you prefer I shot you again?”
“Asshole.”
Jwls fell asleep to her whispered muttering and pacing.
He woke to the same and listened for a moment.
“I’m telling you, Fizbin, he’s nuts. Maybe it’s all the metal he supposedly put in his body.”
The irony of her calling him mentally unstable when she talked to herself didn’t escape him. He rolled over in his bed and eyed her.
Blinked and said very softly, “Don’t move.”
“What?” She turned to face him, hand stilling on yellow fur.
His whole body froze. “I need you not to panic.”
“Why? Are you about to roll out of bed naked with a morning hard-on? I highly doubt it’s as impressive as you think.”
The fool woman still didn’t grasp. “You are holding a Sefalo.”
“You mean this little cutie?” She scrubbed its body. “I have to say, you don’t seem like the type to have a pet.”
“I’m not. It must have smuggled itself aboard on my last stop.”
She finally stopped rubbing its fur. “Oh.” She glanced down at the purring thing in her arms. “Oh.” The sound deepened, and he could see the moment she grasped the situation.
“Whatever you do, don’t make a sudden move.”
“How dangerous is it?”
“A single bite can paralyze you almost instantly, and then they can take their time devouring the body.”
She swallowed. “But he seems so friendly.” Indeed, it rubbed itself against her fleshy cheek.
“They are rodents.” He slowly rose from the bed, the knife he’d slept with in hand.
She hugged it. “Don’t you dare.”
“It will kill us.”
“No, it won’t,” she insisted, rubbing her face in its fur. “He’s a nice furry octopus. Or you’d already be dead.”
True, it had plenty of opportunity to feed on him. He eyed it. There were stories of people training them. He stretched out a hand, and the furball hissed, showing its fanged teeth.
She laughed.
Laughed!
“I don’t think Fizbin likes you.” Yet the damned critter appeared to adore her.
“When he kills you—”
“Then you can say ‘I told you so.’”
“You’ll be dead. Why would I say anything?”
“You have no sense of humor,” she said with a shake of her head.
“I reserve my mirth for situations that warrant it.”
“You should try smiling once in a while just for the heck of it.”
“I smile.” He bared his teeth, but she’d turned her back on him and stared out the dome.
“Before you went to sleep, you said something about us going into a black hole. Is it dangerous? Do I have to worry about it crushing your ship? What if we simply disappear?”
“The holes always have a destination. As for crushing us or tearing us apart? Only if the shields fail.” Then, because he remained annoyed with her, he added, “Which doesn’t happen often. Usually.”
“So reassured.” She glanced at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes.
“Black holes are how we travel between universes. Sometimes within a universe itself.”
“Which begs the question, who is the idiot who first decided to jump inside one?”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. The black holes have been mapped and are the fastest method of getting places.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
Her expression became a portrait in skepticism. “No lie? Because I’ve seen the movies, and in every single one, getting sucked into one is a bad idea.”
“Not all sucking is bad.” Yes, the double entendre was intentional, and her cheeks turned an interesting shade of pink. “The strength of the suction depends on the size and pull of the vortex as well as the force being presented by the propulsion of the vessel.”
“So you could escape one if you had to?”
He shrugged. “You could, but why would you? The simplest option is to just ride into the heart of it and emerge on the other side.”
“What if the other side is bad?”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.” A common problem given their different cultures.
“What if there’s like nothing. What if it spits us out into a cold, dark void?”
“Then we fly to the next black hole.”
“If there is one.”
He rolled his eyes, his impatience manifesting physically. “There are always a few in each universe.”
“Fine. What if you land in the midst of something big and ugly? Like an alien war. Or a sun exploding—”
He interrupted. “A field of asteroids looking to crush. The energy leviathans that can immobilize a ship. There are many ways we could cease to exist. We adapt or die. But in this case, the universe we are going to doesn’t have any of those issues.”
“So the black hole always goes to the same place?”
“Yes. From the moment of their creation, they are charted.”
“To be used as shortcuts?”
His lips curved. “Yes. They are the only way to travel between universes.”
“Exactly how many universes are out there?”
“Thousands. Upon thousands.” Enough even a long-lived Siyborgh couldn’t visit them all.
“And do they all have intelligent life?”
“No. Some are barbarian like you.” He grinned as she stuck out her tongue.
That set the tone for their trip. Her questioning every single thing. Him patiently—and sometimes not so patiently—explaining how the universe actually worked.
Turned out she might come from a backwards world, but she did learn quickly.
And her reactions to some of the knowledge proved amusing, such as her inquiry about waste management.
“Um, Jules. Where’s the bathroom on this ship?” she asked. Even with the translation it took a moment to grasp her question.
“There is none.”
“But what about when I have to, um, er, ah…” she stammered, and he relied on his knowledge of her species to grasp her intent.
“The removal of bodily waste is done during the sleep cycle.”
She blinked. “Something is molesting me for my pee and stuff while I sleep?”
“Molecular removal, actually, with the waste collected siphoned into a holding tank.” Which was sold for fertilizer on more than one world.
“What about a woman’s, um, period?”
His turn to stare at her blankly.
“When a woman bleeds.”
Blink.
“Down there.”
A horrified glance.
Red cheeks and a giggle from her. “Don’t tell me you’ve never head of a period? Menstrual cycle?”
He shook his head.
“What about female cyborgs? Don’t they exist?”
“Yes, but none of the ones I know bleed. If they did, they’d repair it.”
“You can’t repair this!” She then launched into an explanation of the human reproductive cycle. A horrifying conversation he escaped from.
But like a planet caught in the orbit of a sun, he kept returning to her. Often finding her petting that damned rodent. Other times her face was rapt as she watched some of the holovideos he had on board. As for Jwls, he did what he always did on a voyage. He tinkered. Having a ship meant constant repairs.
The dull
routine kept him busy, but when the day ended, unlike previous voyages, he wasn’t alone.
There was someone waiting for him in his living quarters. A woman who never stopped questioning. Sometimes about things that made no sense.
“My period didn’t come,” she announced after fifteen sleep cycles of travel.
“Perhaps it got lost,” he said, making some notes on changes in this galaxy that didn’t appear on his charts. While upgrades to existing maps didn’t pay much, it was easy income given he was here and in need of something to distract himself.
“There are only two reasons a period doesn’t come. Pregnancy being the first one.”
“You’re with child?” The very idea rounded his eyes and dropped his gaze to her belly.
“Only if you’ve been doing stuff to me you shouldn’t.”
Did she imply…? He stiffened. “If you’re implying I’ve seeded your womb, then you’re mistaken. I haven’t touched you.” In the flesh. In his dreams and fantasies, though…
“Is there something in the food?” For some reason Aggie treated their meals with suspicion. His culinary fabricator was old but still highly functional.
“Did you not explain to me that reproduction was via the lower lips, not the upper ones?” His pointed remark brought the hoped-for blush.
“I meant, are you feeding me birth control drugs?”
“No. But I am going to put you to sleep again if you don’t stop asking stupid questions.”
“A wise guy on Earth once said there are never any stupid questions.”
“He obviously never met you.”
That rounded her lips. Yet despite the obvious insult, she grinned. “Nice one!”
A compliment over a barb. A strange forming of camaraderie much like he had with his crew. It bothered and pleased at once that he’d found common ground with the human.
A chime sounded, and she stiffened. “What was that? Do we need to get into an emergency pod? Is there a breach in the hull?”
And there went that moment of connection as she reverted to her simple roots.
“It’s letting me know we are approaching the wormhole.”
She moved to a chair and began to strap in.
“Travel through a hole is not that violent,” he said, walking past her, rolling his body, limbering himself. He caught her watching him. He flexed a little longer.