Boson stopped in front of one of the larger quarters. “The door sticks but it goes with enough force.”
Beckett used his mech hand to open the door. His obsidian fingers convulsed before finally releasing the wheel. The tremors were getting worse. It wouldn’t be long before he wouldn’t be able to open his hand at all.
As soon as Beckett closed the door behind them, Boson’s mouth captured Beckett’s. Boson was halfway to undressing Beckett before Beckett caught up to him. The boy was eager; that wasn’t something Beckett was used to with the men he paid for. The stiffness of Boson’s erection burnt against Beckett’s thigh even as his own member began to swell.
Beckett took hold of the boy to slow him down, to prepare him.
“I’ve got some mech parts.” Beckett always hated the undressing. “But I’m all man where it counts. Dim the lights.”
“I want to see, if you don’t mind.”
Boson asked so politely that Beckett felt like a marvel rather than a monstrosity.
“Alright.”
The boy’s face lit up with fascination as Beckett stripped, first revealing the mech left arm anchored into a partially rebuilt ribcage.
“Magnificent.” Boson’s fingers trembled as he traced the copper ligaments. “Please continue.”
After a few awkward moments of shifting from one foot to the other, Beckett’s pants were off. His right leg ended at the ankle where a thirty year old artificial foot began.
“Mining accident on the moon when I was a boy.”
Boson nodded then turned his attention to Beckett’s left leg that ended mid-thigh.
“Got a promotion to first mate for that one.” Beckett ran his obsidian fingers through Boson’s blond strands careful not to flex too tightly. “Stopped a quantal furnace on a hauler from over-heating. The stream melted everything down to the bone.”
The boy didn’t grimace or flinch but pointed to Beckett’s left arm and chest.
“Reefing solar sails during a flare.”
Whenever Beckett closed his one good eye, he still saw the brightness that encompassed eternity. It was the closest he’d ever come to feeling complete. The flare had only lasted a fraction of a second, but the energy had incinerated his upper left side taking with it the sight in one eye, an arm and most of his ribcage. It earned Beckett a rare quantal coal generator that powered his implants and kept him alive.
“May I see the eye?” Boson rose to his feet and pushed his body into Beckett’s.
The boy was tenacity. Beckett lifted up the patch over his left eye. His vision swam in a rainbow of colours that his brain tried to make sense of without the filter glasses Beckett wore to detect everything from quantal signatures to solar waves while sailing the gap.
“Amazing. I’m afraid I’m not as impressive.” Boson blushed.
Waves of fabric tumbled to the ground until Boson stood naked before Beckett. The boy was slender and fine. Other than his head, not a blade of hair marked his cream-coloured skin. He was flawless.
“I’m not gentle.” Beckett cradled the boy’s head in his obsidian hand. One twitch could crush his skull.
Boson nuzzled Beckett’s mech hand.
“I’m tougher than I look.”
Beckett claimed Boson. Where he was soft, Beckett was hard. Where he was refined, Beckett was coarse. The contrast intensified the electric current that raced around Beckett’s ribcage. He gasped when Boson’s fingers wrapped around his cock.
“Down.” Beckett’s guttural command masked his emotional fragility.
“Aye, aye.” Boson saluted then promptly dropped to his knees and enveloped Beckett’s erection in his mouth.
Soft lips replaced cold air with velvet warmth. Beckett savoured every masterful flick of Boson’s tongue until Beckett thought he could take no more. The boy was enthusiastic in his torment, bringing Beckett close to coming several times but always stopping short.
“Enough,” Beckett grabbed Boson by the shoulders and guided him to his feet. “Turn around.”
“What if I’m not ready?” Boson wiped his mouth against his arm with a grin.
“It’s too late for that.”
Beckett pushed Boson against the wall and kicked his feet apart. It didn’t take Beckett more than a few seconds to retrieve his bottle of parts lubricant and a condom.
“Are you sure?” Beckett said poised to penetrate.
Boson nodded and braced himself against the wall. One thrust was all it took to shatter Beckett’s self-control. Two thrusts and he was pumping hard against an orgasm that threatened to short his relays. He didn’t care. Buried deep in Boson, Beckett felt more human than he had in years. When Beckett finally slumped against the boy, Boson’s supple body supported his weight. Beckett’s quantal core shuttered in time with Boson’s breath. The frantic pace of the time bomb in his chest slowed and steadied. Beckett could have crawled into bed with Boson, but it wouldn’t change anything. It was time to face the inevitable.
“You don’t have to go.” Boson said when Beckett pulled out.
Beckett was halfway dressed when the boy handed him his coat. The boy would no doubt soon be looking for his next customer. Beckett had to meet with Doc Jay.
“I have to.” Beckett threw a handful of shill on Boson’s neatly made bunk.
“This is too much,” Boson said without counting it. “Stay so I can earn it.”
Beckett was already through the hatch still pulling tight his belt. The warmth of Boson’s touch already just a memory. After a few steps, the crusting semen on his skin was a minor inconvenience for the reminder of what it felt like to be alive.
***
By the time Beckett was finished at Doc Jay’s, he’d spent his last shill to be told it was not a matter of if, but when, his quantal core gave out. Unless Beckett could find another power source with a matching resonance, the energy build-up would be too much to contain. Doc Jay took perverse pleasure in the fact that Beckett would go out in an explosion that could take out the better part of a station let alone Beckett’s clipper.
“Ahoy, Captain. I said ‘Ahoy’ Captain Beckett.”
By the time Beckett realised someone was calling to him, Boson had just about reached him through the throngs of merchants. Now dressed as a deck hand, the boy’s boisterous wave didn’t go unnoticed by the decency constables guarding the lift to the proper decks.
“What are you doing here?” Beckett grabbed Boson and dragged him off to a more discrete corner. “And why are you dressed like that?”
“Isn’t this what deck hands wear?”
Between the green cap, navy vest and white leggings, the boy looked like he’d stepped off a luxury cruiser.
“Why are you wearing it?”
“I can’t stay here.” Boson’s orchid eyes sparkled. “I’ll do whatever you need, whatever you want. Just take me with you.”
Beckett looked over the boy. He had no business even considering taking him along. His roster was full. Boson would only be a distraction. It would be selfish to take the boy on what could be a suicide run.
“Do you even know how to haul a sheet?”
Boson shook his head. “No, but I could be useful in other ways.”
The space between them dissolved. Boson pressed his body against Beckett. His hand cupping Beckett’s balls. The surge nearly knocked Beckett off his feet. He grabbed Boson’s hand and forced him away.
“Not here.”
Beckett should just leave Boson where he stood.
“Please.” The resolve in the boy’s eyes made him look so much older. “I need your help.”
“You are too clean.” Beckett ran his hand on the bulkhead and smeared filth on Boson’s cheeks and clothes. “Just let me do the talking. And don’t make eye contact. Those implants of yours will get you into
trouble in respectable company.”
***
A Captain’s rank and Royal Commission were their tickets up the decks. No one questioned the eager lad following two steps behind Beckett.
They hadn’t been asked for proof of identity even on the proper decks, but that would change. The dock guards that were on duty when Beckett had signed out would have finished their shift hours ago and been replaced by guards who wouldn’t recognise Beckett, much less the newcomer in his wake.
“Incredible.” Boson looked up through the glass bubble of the docking hanger to the array of ship tethered like balloons by the glass tube lifts. “Which one is yours?”
Beckett pointed to one of the less majestic buckets of bolts. A patchwork of parts salvaged from a dozen scuttled clippers, Icarus’ Revenge looked as cobbled together as Beckett was.
“She’s got a three span solar sail array that generates 50K knots per hour.” Beckett felt his chest swell with pride. Never mind that he owed more on his ship than most working folk earned in a lifetime. “She can make the route from here to Alpha Centauri in a month.”
“Impressive.”
Beckett wasn’t going to mention that he’d achieved that feast only once by hoisting an improvised spinnaker, cranking the quantal furnaces to max and jettisoning everything that wasn’t bolted down. Half the bonus had been gone to repairs, but they’d made it in time for their contract.
“Let’s go.”
The guards at Icarus’ lift were watching them.
“Look sharp,” Beckett said.
Boson snapped to attention.
As they neared the lift one guard stepped forward while the other one placed his hand on his Enfield MK CXV revolver.
“Halt. By royal decree, this ship is in the employ of the Queen’s armada. State your business or be off.”
“Captain Riley Beckett of Icarus’ Revenge.” Beckett extended his credentials. “And crew mate Higgs Boson.”
The guard examined the tattered papers then handed them back to Beckett. As Beckett stepped passed the guards into the lift, Boson followed close behind.
“Hold on,” the second guard stepped between Boson and the lift. “What’s your name again? I don’t remember you being on the manifest.”
“He’s with me.”
“He still needs crew clearance.”
“I must have forgotten to register with the deck master.” Boson wore the most innocent expression of bafflement. “Captain, I am so sorry. Please don’t let this reflect on my performance. I promised you an able body, and I swear that is what I am. Even if I’m forgetful.”
Beckett hardly knew what to say or what was going to come out of Boson’s mouth next.
“Please, sir.” Boson bowed to the guards. “It was an honest mistake. It is my first day as a deck hand. That’s why my name wasn’t on the list. I was supposed to register and, in all the excitement of leaving, I completely forgot. I am at your mercy.”
The operations of the entire deck had ground to a halt and a crowd had begun to gather.
“Get up.” The guard took hold of Boson shoulders.
“I beg you.” Boson clutched the guard’s uniform and looked him in the eyes.
The guard’s face went sheet white. He stepped back.
“Forgive me, I didn’t realise.” The guard stammered while staring at the deck plate.
Beckett grabbed Boson and shoved him into the lift. “I promise, I’ll deal with it before we get to the next station.”
The lift sealed and they were finally on their way to Icarus’ Revenge. The ship above them grew larger as the station below grew smaller. While Boson studied the view outside, Beckett cursed himself for not being able to say ‘no’ to the boy. The guards wouldn’t forget those eyes. Hopefully, they’d assume Boson was some fancy slumming it and not report the incident.
“The station always seems so big and crowded.” Boson’s voice grew distant. “From up here, it is an ant hill with thousands of ants swarming inside. Do you think their lives matter any less because they are so fleeting?”
“You should have let me handle the guards.”
Boson cozied up to Beckett. “So what will my duties be on board?”
“You’ll report to the first mate. He’ll assign you a station to apprentice.”
It was heartbreaking to see Boson’s smile faltered.
“And were will I sleep?”
As professional as Beckett wanted to be, the lift ride was a precious moment alone. Beckett grabbed the boy and pull him into a possessive kiss. Even if these memories disappeared along with Beckett when he ended, he wanted to make as many of them as he could.
“We’ll have to work that out.” Beckett broke their kiss as the lift slowed.
“Aye, aye, captain.” Boson saluted with vigour.
“And none of that.” Beckett straightened his uniform. “At least not in front of the crew.”
“You don’t salute a high officer?”
Beckett frowned. “Of course not, only royals require salutes.”
They were greeted by Nelson, first mate and a damned fine one at that, with his clipboard.
“Shipshape and buttoned down tighter than a fancies’ arse,” Nelson said but fell silent instead of giving the details.
“Then why do I get the feeling you’ve got something to say?”
“We’ve been ordered to power down the furnace and keep the masts stowed.”
“Ordered?” Beckett didn’t like the sound of that. “Who by? Why?”
“Her Majesty wishes to inspect the crew.”
“What?” Beckett’s quantal core thundered against his reconstructed ribcage. “Crew to the fore deck now. And no one says anything but me.”
“Aye, captain.” Nelson gave Boson a sideways glance as he walked by. “What about him?”
“He’s my problem.”
As soon as the hatch closed behind Nelson, Beckett wrapped his onyx hand around Boson’s neck and hauled him up against the bulkhead.
“What have you done?”
“I thought you didn’t want anyone to say anything.”
Boson’s confident smile made the lead in Beckett’s boots heavier. Boson didn’t look the least bit alarmed that Beckett could crush his windpipe.
“Nothing’s going to stop Her now.”
“Maybe not. But you might not be here when She arrives.”
Panic flashed in Boson’s eyes only to be replaced by the same calm Beckett felt before a solar flare.
“I’m dead either way,” Boson placed his hand on Beckett’s quantal core. “And so are you.”
Electric current arched in a silver half moon from Boson’s hand to Beckett’s chest. It rattled around Beckett’s ribcage before striking his quantal core. Beckett stumbled backwards and released Boson. That much energy meant more than a couple of eye implants.
“Captain Beckett,” Nelson’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Crew ready and assembled.”
Beckett seized Boson by the arm hard enough to make the boy yelp.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Even though Beckett had the feeling the boy would go willingly, he still dragged Boson along. When they arrived on the fore deck, the crew was ordered by rank and looked as grim as Beckett felt. He took his place at the front of the line closest to the guest entrance with Boson at his hip. He’d brought Boson on board. Now he was going to find out the price for falling for those orchid eyes.
The hatch light flickered as the atmospherics adjusted.
“Last chance,” Beckett said to Boson. “Anything you want to tell me?”
Boson looked at Beckett. “One man can make a different as long as he knows when to act.”
The flashing red light turned green, and the hatch doo
r unbolted. Captain Beckett focused on the decking, seeing every imperfection and stain. The lightest trace of footfall muffled by layers of rustling silk satin announced Her Majesty’s arrival.
“Her Majesty Elizabeth the seventy-sixth.” A tremulous male voice announced. “Ruler of the known galaxy and all within it for the last millennium.”
Beckett and his crew saluted then knelt. Beckett glanced to his side to make sure Boson had followed suite. The boy’s clenched fist shook against his thigh.
“Rise Captain Beckett and explain yourself.” Her silvery female voice commanded.
Every metallic piece in Beckett vibrated from the force of her electrical field, but it was his flesh that felt the weight of her words in every cell.
“Why do you offend Us?”
“Forgive me.” Beckett wasn’t thrilled at facing his second death sentence that day. “I am to blame, not the crew. Punish me.”
“We will decide the punishment and who it is applied to.”
The timbre of her voice scrambled Beckett’s brain until he couldn’t think straight. All he knew was that he couldn’t let his crew suffer for his mistake. He was at least man enough to face that fact.
Beckett lifted his head against the tide of Her command. When he opened his eyes, he was staring into the deep pools of iridescent orchid. Child-like in stature, Her Majesty’s cherubic face was marred by astonishment and furry.
“How dare you look upon Us?”
Beckett struggled to keep his gaze on her. Her voice commanded his muscles to look away, but Beckett was as much machine as he was flesh. While his living being fought to look away, the metal and obsidian remained inert and unyielding.
“Punish me.” Beckett’s voice broke as he spoke. Searing pain raced along nerve endings and his right knee buckled. The left mech leg held fast.
The more he resisted, the hotter the pain got until he felt his flesh falling away from his bone. Beckett closed his eyes to block out the sight, but the smell and taste of burnt flesh assaulted him. His body was being incinerated from the inside out. Her voice was inside his head, his flesh and bones.
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