I trust the spaceship more than anyone else in my life.
“Yes,” I answer protectively, “and you can refer to her as the Sli’vier Biel.”
“Her?” Houston asks.
I cross my arms. “Yes, her.”
He opens his mouth, but is cut off by Sli’vier.
“Is this the secondary passenger?” the AI system asks, making Houston jump and look around for the source of the voice. He’s so naïve, it’s almost adorable.
Almost.
I hide my snicker. I have to remind myself that human technology is several centuries behind Vzekian technology. I remember reading that there was some sort of era in human history called “The Dark Ages” that set them back for a good four hundred years. Then again, humans are so stubborn, I doubt they would have pushed themselves so hard.
At least, I know one stubborn human, and if he’s indicative of the rest of them, then I’m surprised they haven’t doomed themselves to extinction. They have spaceships, sure, but nothing as sophisticated as Vzekian technology.
Yet another thing they aren’t sophisticated at.
“Yes, Sli’vier,” I say to the ship. “This is Houston Eastwood. My zn’Ethri.” I give him a pointed look, hoping that he understands the significance of the distance that puts between us.
He doesn’t, of course. “So your spaceship talks to you?”
“Please remain still, Houston Eastwood,” the AI says in her clinical voice, “while I scan you for your vitals to be sure that you are fit for space travel.”
Houston shakes his head. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Scan complete,” the AI says.
“I didn’t even stand still for that!” he exclaims, and I hide my own smile.
Then, my smile falls.
“Uncontrolled arrhythmia detected in a single cardiovascular organ,” the AI says. “A contra-indication. Space travel is not recommended at this time for passenger Houston Eastwood.”
I look at Houston. “Arrhythmia? You have an irregular heartbeat?” This wouldn’t be a problem for Vzekians unless the irregular heartbeat was present in both hearts. As I understand it, though, humans only have one heart.
The rigors of space travel could kill him.
Houston’s cheeks turn red and he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal!” I say, stalking over to him. I poke a finger in his chest. “You could die launching into space! Or if we have to leave hyperdrive at any point! Or even using the lavatories and it flushes too early! Why did you waste my time if you can’t fly?”
This close to him, I realize how tall I am compared to him, at least a head taller. He’d be very short for a Vzekian male, and I don’t know why I’m noting that right now. I should be more pissed off. After all, I traveled halfway across the universe for him, and he’s unable to fly.
“Sh’vieth,” I curse. “Why did your mother want to put you at risk?”
He averts his eyes, and I still.
“She doesn’t know,” I realize. “Jessica doesn’t know that you have a heart condition.”
“I found out a few weeks ago,” Houston says. “I’ve started taking medicine for it, but it takes a while for it to take effect. I didn’t want to worry Ma. Plus, Christmas is her favorite time of year, so…”
“You didn’t want to ruin it for her?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah. That’s a big reason.” He chuckles mirthlessly.
“Why didn’t you get a heart replacement?” I do know that humans are at least advanced enough to print new organs.
“Have you seen our health insurance rates?” I shake my head and he scoffs. “As a mechanic, I don’t get great benefits, and new hearts don’t come cheap. It’s still new tech here.”
I’ll never understand humans. As a member of the Space Corps, I get great health benefits wherever I go in the galaxy. And on Vzeik, we don’t have to worry about healthcare as everything is free.
“So you haven’t treated it?” I ask.
Houston combs a hand through his hair. “As I said, I’m on a new medication for it, and I’m eating healthier.” I’m still not convinced, and he notices. “I promise you, I’ll be fine. Stop acting like you’re the concerned sister.”
“I’m not—”
He laughs. “I know you’re not my sister. Or is that you’re not concerned?” He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep, steadying breath. “Just…I promise, I’ll be fine. Scout’s honor.”
I don’t know what honor this scout has, but I sigh. There’s something heartbreaking about his voice, that he really, really wants to go celebrate this Charis-must.
“Override ship’s recommendation,” I grumble. “Captain fully recognizes contra-indications and takes full responsibility for patient.”
“Confirmed,” the ship says.
“Thank you, Kear’yl,” Houston breathes in relief.
“Don’t thank me,” I say as I hit the button to lower the ramp. “And don’t you dare die on me.”
“I never knew you cared,” he says blithely.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t. It’s just that my father would have me court martialed if I did anything that killed his wife’s son.”
“Right,” he says, although the corner of his mouth is quirked up. He doesn’t look particularly happy though, at least from what I can tell. Humans are so contradictory. When I don’t say anything, he pushes past me and starts walking up the entrance ramp. “Well, the good news is, I’m not going to die on you, Kear’yl.”
“Good,” I retort as I follow him. Into my ship, doing our parents a favor.
Ugh, this is going to be the longest flight ever.
***
“I should have brought a booster seat,” I say as I help strap him into the passenger’s seat in the cockpit. “I forget how short you humans are.”
“It’s just because you Vzekians are so damn big,” Houston tells me. “You’re, what, seven and a half feet tall?”
“Whose foot?” I ask suspiciously. “And why are there seven of them?”
I think of the Azerith race and their seven legs. A bunch of greedy, power-hungry bastards. I’ve put a few of them behind bars. I’ve always been suspicious of Houston, and the fact that he knows the Azerith raises a red flag. I know I should report him, and…
“No,” he says, breaking into my frantic thoughts. “It’s a unit of measurement. I mean, I’m six four, and you’re at least a head taller than me…”
“A human head, yes. With our headtentacles, a Vzekian head does not match your description.”
“True.” He chuckles, and this close to him, I can feel his breath on my skin. Human breath apparently is slightly damp and hot. I swallow, trying to keep myself from being distracted. It’s not that I enjoy that sensation anyways.
He does look ridiculous in the seat, like he’s a child ready for his first ride ever. It’s strange because I remember Houston being taller. But ten years ago, I was much shorter and much more innocent, too. Every new thing seemed big and impossible. Now, the only thing that is impossible is making sure that Houston is secured enough not to trip my safety alarms. The straps cut him too high across his chest, and if we did get into any trouble, he’d be decapitated in an instant.
With a bit of finagling, I finally have everything strapped and tucked to where he’d only get minimal damage if something terrible happened. And if there’s worse trouble, well, then safety straps aren’t going to save him.
“I think I’ve got you situated,” I say. “Just don’t move and you should be all right.”
“Trust me, I ain’t moving.”
I fight the urge to say something else as I sit my own bottom in my chair and strap myself in. This takes a lot less time, mainly because I’ve modified the captain’s chair to my liking. Once in my captain’s chair, I feel more at peace and in control of my life.
“Sli’vier,” I say, going through my launch protocols and flipping switches and hitting buttons. “Initiate la
unch sequence.”
“Launch sequence initiated,” the AI says back. “Thrusters will fire in T-minus fifteen seconds.”
“The exits are at the front and the back of the aircraft,” Houston murmurs, “and in case of turbulence, put your head between your knees and kiss your ass good-bye.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask him incredulously.
“Ten… Nine… Eight…” Sli’vier says.
“Old joke,” he tells me. “Also, I guess, it’s not the right time to tell you that I’ve never left Earth before.”
“Three…two…”
“You’ve never been off-world before?” I thunder, turning my head to look at him. He’s grinning widely, like a little Vzekian child who is about to go into the combat arena to kill his first Vzu-han. He looks excited, ready. Not at all terrified like I imagined someone leaving his home planet for the first time.
Humans are such an enigma to me.
The thrusters fire, slingshotting my ship out into the atmosphere and then into orbit. As the G-forces hit my body, I cringe and situate myself squarely in my seat. Houston, insanely, whoops in excitement as we break free of Earth’s gravity and the feeling of weightlessness hits us.
I swivel in my seat again, giving him a questioning look.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he explains.
I shake my head and right the ship, inputting the coordinates for our destination. Just three days of this, I tell myself. Three days until we get to Fl’steri. And just a few more after that until I get to have my life back again.
Without warning, I hit the hyperdrive accelerator, throwing the Sli’vier Biel into faster-than-light speed. At least that throws him back in the chair and momentarily shuts him up.
This time, I smile broadly.
Chapter Three
AT LEAST HOUSTON’S HEART DIDN’T FAIL HIM during takeoff, so when my father calls my ship a few hours later, my zn’Ethri is alive and well to talk to our parents.
Also, I now regret breaking my handheld communicator after my conversation with my father earlier because I now have to pull them up on the visual communicator. Meaning that they’ll see both of us, including my embarrassed cheeks, which I’m sure won’t escape my father.
“Good to see you both on your way,” my father says with a curt nod. I realize now how much I look like him. Tall, broad shouldered, blue-skinned with a dozen headtentacles pulled up and out of his face, he casts his stern gaze down on us.
Curled up next to him is Jessica, who keeps playing with one of his tentacles. I try to keep my revulsion from my face—it’s a very intimate gesture in Vzekian culture, so seeing her play with that is like watching the two of them copulate on screen. I’m surprised that my father hasn’t stopped her before, but he looks both embarrassed and pleased by the action.
I feel thoroughly sickened, so I just focus on Jessica’s face. I can see a lot of Houston in her, even though she’s wearing a pair of cutoff pants I’ve heard humans call “jorts”. Brown hair, blue eyes, and pronounced, proud cheekbones, I can tell immediately that she is the stock that bred something as confounding as Houston.
“ETA is three days, sir,” I tell him. “We’re currently out of hyperdrive in order to map the fastest route, but we should be on Fl’steri on December 21st as requested.”
That’s the thing about traveling faster-than-light; every so often, you must map out your coordinates, or you risk shooting yourself into a supernova.
My father opens his mouth to answer, but Jessica cuts him off. “You don’t have to call him ‘sir’, Kear’yl,” she says with a laugh. “It makes it seem like you’re reporting to him or something.”
I frown, because that’s exactly what I was doing. It seems to catch my father off-guard as well. Trust humans to always complicate things, although I secretly like the fact that my father is off his game with her comment.
“Anyhoo,” Jessica says with a smile, filling in the silence. “How is my son?”
“I’m over here, Ma,” Houston says with a wave, directing her attention over to him.
She peers down at him, filling up the screen and distorting her image as she examines the picture. “Houston!” she cries happily. “Oh my goodness, it’s been too long. You look like you haven’t had a good meal in years.” Her eyes fill with water, a sign of her being sad, but she’s smiling nonetheless.
From the corner of my eye, I watch as Houston smiles back, a genuine smile, the first I’ve seen from him. “I’ve been doing fine, Ma,” he says.
“I can’t believe you’re coming,” Jessica continues. “Like, I almost cannot believe it. It’s going to be a family Christmas, just like we’ve always wanted.”
My father and I make eye contact with one another, and I can tell we both share the same thought. This would be our first Charis-must together like this. I’m sure in the ten years that he’s been married to Jessica, Father has celebrated the holiday. But this will be the first time we’ve done something together as a “family”, as Jessica called it.
A “family” is such a human construction, although my hearts hurt at the thought of my Ep’pa, my mother, missing out on this. I deepen my frown and push the thought out of my head. I need to focus on the present and pilot my ship.
“Are you two getting along?” Jessica asks, bringing me back to the conversation. There’s a note of concern in her voice that I don’t quite understand, but then I fully realize what she means when Houston answers before I can process it.
“For the most part,” he says with a shrug. “Kear’yl’s been bullying me, but that’s to be expected.” He laughs. “That’s what stepsisters are supposed to do, right? Cinderella and all.”
What the blackhole is he talking about?
Then Jessica laughs. “Be nice, Kear’yl.”
I frown. “What?”
My father’s shocked expression mirrors mine. Good, so I’m not just being dense. Houston and Jessica are talking about something human-related, which means that it has no place in a Vzekian conversation. And yet, I’m traveling halfway across the galaxy for a human holiday.
Life is strange sometimes.
“I’ll see you in three days then,” my father says.
“Just be careful,” Jessica says with a worried expression. “I don’t like the idea of you going this far by yourselves. Do not be afraid to ask for directions or help.”
She must be insane. I’m a Vzekian warrior. I travel across the galaxy all the time, always for Space Corps business, sure, but I can handle myself. I glance at Houston from the corner of my eyes, and he has his arms crossed as he regards his mother.
“Will do, Ma,” Houston says with a nod.
Clenching my jaw, I reach over to turn off the transmission when we hear Jessica give one more warning.
“And behave you two.”
I blink rapidly and switch the transmission off, and the screen goes black for a moment before switching to the space shield. The light from the spattering of stars fills up the cockpit illuminating both our faces.
“Transmission ended,” the AI announces.
“Ma always did worry too much,” he tells me. “Once a mother, always a mother, right?”
I remember that there is the supposed human notion of “maternal instinct”. Jessica must be worried for her son’s safety.
Strangely enough, I am almost certain she is also concerned for my safety.
I feel a tightening in my chest. Why, for comet’s sake, do my two hearts feel like they’re constricting painfully again? I’m around human kind for a few hours and suddenly I’m reflecting their emotions and their so-called heartbreak.
What did my father ever see in Jessica? How does he put up with it?
I jump at the feathery sensation of Houston’s fingers on my shoulder.
I offer a weak smile and shy away. “You should stay in your seat while we’re accelerating,” I say softly.
“You’ve got the artificial gravity turned on,” Houston says with
a shrug. “Besides, you were playing with these again.” He reaches out and runs one of my headtentacles through his fingers and I nearly jump out of my skin at the sensation with a stifled cry.
As I said, they’re erogenous zones when someone else touches them. I can touch them all I like, and I tend to do it as a nervous habit like I’m doing right now, but the second someone else touches them, it’s all hands on deck. I fight to keep my breathing under control.
He retracts his hand like he was set on fire.
“I’m sorry,” he says in a startled voice. He wipes his hand on his pants, like I had slimed him or something. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, you didn’t know,” I mutter. I know that my cheeks are glowing purple right now from embarrassment. “Just…don’t surprise me like that again. I can touch them, but you can’t.”
His expression, for some reason, falls and he nods with a heavy breath.
“Sorry,” he says again.
To distract myself from both his touch and from the warmth spreading across my body, I busy myself by inputting the coordinates for Fl’steri.
“Initiate hyperdrive sequence,” I tell the AI.
“Preparing to initiate hyperdrive,” she responds.
“Sit down,” I command, refusing to look at Houston.
Obediently and without question, he sits back down in his seat and clicks his safety restraints back into place.
I punch the hyperdrive thrusters, and we shoot into deep space towards Fl’steri. We’re both thrown back into our seats, and I close my eyes, counting the seconds until the ship stabilizes the G-forces. This is one of the most dangerous moments in flying—when we’re at the mercy of the coordinates and the Sli’vier Biel holding herself together.
But she does. And after about twenty long pairs of heartbeats, I feel the pressure on my body release and it feels like I can breathe again.
Houston doesn’t say anything as I undo my restraints.
“I’m going to retire to the captain’s quarters,” I say. He looks over at me, curious. “The ship will fly herself until we get there. We just wait for three days. You can sleep in the skipper’s quarters.”
Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances Page 28