Page 17
“The High Priestess has been promoted to Chief Moral Inspector,” Cal smirked. “I’m sure she’ll do great. Oh, and Leo is now General Secretary, whatever that means. He aims to improve the recession bestowed upon the nation by the frivolous royal family.” His thin lips formed a straight line. “That’s what The Truth says, so who am I to question it?”
Roy sighed. Instinctively, he reached to rub Cal’s forearm, then pulled back as if he’d touched burning coal when Cal flinched. “Sorry.”
“No—don’t be.” Cal tried to tuck a non-existent strand of hair behind his ear. “I like being touched.” He scooted closer, his knee bumping into Roy’s thigh.
“You sure?” Roy huffed, his fingertips brushing Cal’s shoulder. The muscle rippled, like touching a calm sea’s surface, then finally relaxed.
“Just not used to it.” Leaning into the touch, Cal clasped his palms around Roy’s hand, guiding it to the side of his neck.
The softness of his skin, the vulnerability of touching his pulsing carotid, left Roy’s mind swimming against a strong current of inappropriate thoughts. A loud beep from the radio transmission module saved him from drowning.
With a deep frown, Cal hopped back to the console. He flicked the toggle switch, letting the announcement rattle through the low-cost speakers.
Dear travellers! With only a few hours of GST added to your journey, you could visit the decommissioned terraformer RX17, currently stationed on the fourth outer ellipse orbit. Plenty of wares on board at excellent prices.
“Oh. Just an ad.” Roy shrugged. “You can ignore that. I thought they stopped broadcasting spam.”
“You sure you don’t want to check it out?” Cal turned around in his seat, folding his legs. “We could get some neat tech on a terraformer. Maybe we could build a tiny hydroponic bay in the storage.”
“A hydroponic bay?” Roy lifted an eyebrow. Last time he’d brought a plant home—a spiky little thing that was supposed to be resilient—he’d watched it shrivel and rot on his kitchen window.
“We don’t have to, if you don’t fancy that.” Cal crossed his arms, his eyes pinned to his knees. “I just thought—maybe some of your customers would prefer the spices to be fresh.”
“Yeah. Good call.” Roy glanced from the viewport. Nothing but darkness, and an occasional flicker of light as they passed through another speed tunnel.
On the second day of travel, Roy wandered around the flyvan while Cal was working on the hydroponics kit they’d bought on RX17. Visiting the terraformer—a gigantic ship meant to bring life to a hostile, rocky planet on the outer orbit, now floating helplessly after an asteroid impact— left a bitter taste in Roy’s mouth. The original crew had been replaced by merchants who looked suspiciously like scavengers, trying to make the last sales before it was scrapped.
“All set!” Cal chirped, floating with his head pointing to the deck. He’d tangled his legs around the ceiling handle while assembling the top cover. A victorious grin spread across his face as the hydroponics rack lit up. The water pumps buzzed, activating the irrigation system.
Hopping toward the tiny storage compartment, Roy couldn’t stop admiring Cal’s quick, skilled hands. And the little smudge of grease on his forehead. “You work fast.”
“It wasn’t too complicated. And besides, I love mechanics.” A blush spread through Cal’s neck—perhaps the effect of hanging upside down. “When I got my Master’s degree, I wrote a stupid letter to Leo. Asked him to run away with me and buy a spaceship workshop somewhere on the edge of the galaxy, where nobody would ever find us.”
“Did he not like that plan?”
“He never received the letter. Confiscated as soon as it arrived on Eiden’s gateway.” With a swift kick, Cal rotated himself, his mag-boots clicking onto the deck. “I thought we’d have more privacy once engaged, but… no. Anyway, I don’t think he’d want that. I probably wouldn’t follow through either. But it was a nice dream to have for a few nights.”
After a few hours staring into the void, Cal set up the gravity field and decided it was time for his evening hygiene ritual. He disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Roy alone and wondering about the nighttime arrangements. Sleeping pods were incredibly expensive, and Roy couldn’t justify spending thousands of koruns to buy and install two separate pods when the one the ship came with was exquisite, with relaxing music and a soft, ambient glow. The night before, he’d curled up in the passenger seat, pretending to have fallen asleep while reading his book. Now, stabbing pain shot through his lower back. He couldn’t sleep there again.
“Bathroom’s free,” Cal announced, his bare feet tapping softly on the metal deck. He tiptoed to the pod and hopped in, taking the left side. His thin sleeping shirt and tight shorts left little to the imagination.
Roy grabbed a bottle of dental solution from his duffel bag and hurried to the bathroom. He shut the door and flicked the lock, panting softly.
“Good evening, weary traveller!” A crisp voice, stripped of any accent, echoed in the narrow space.
He flinched, turning around. “What the—”
“I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. This is the Advanced Onboard System speaking. You can call me AVOS.”
“Wonderful,” Roy deadpanned. If there was anything he hated about space travel, it was the omnipresence of on-board assistants. He’d evaded this one successfully, until now. “What do you want?”
A latch opened in the ceiling. Two prehensile robotic arms snaked out, the end effectors shaped like human fingers with too many joints. “May I help you undress?”
“I can do that myself, thank you,” Roy groaned and slipped out of his pants.
“Very well. We’ll get you ready for sleep.”
“We?” Roy quirked an eyebrow. Mechanical arms gently gripped his shoulders and guided him toward the sink, with a mirror hanging above. A gentle nudge in the middle of his back sent him forward.
