Interlude
An excerpt from Peripatetica, by M. K. Sebastien, Engr., ret.
Sunday, 06 Nov 2518
Kuiper II Class, Summer’s Gift
En Route to Persephone
22:30 hrs, ship’s time
I came off watch duty on the bridge and detoured through the galley for something to drink. Atmo aboard a ship gets dry and I was thirsty. I snagged some juice and closed the refrigerator door before my head caught up with my eyes: mine was the last bottle in the fridge, possibly on the entire ship, and there would be no more til we kissed dirt on Persephone. I put it back. We still had injured crew aboard and they’d need the vitamins. I pulled out a bottle of water and took it with me with a clear conscience. The water was cold, at least, and it would feel good going down.
My cabin was dark when I walked in. Odd. I’d left the desk light on when I’d left. Had it burned out? There are damned few windows on a ship and there were none in my quarters. The darkness was complete. I fumbled for the overhead switch.
“Leave it off,” Mike said from my bed, his voice thin. “Please.”
Migraine.
I said nothing and closed the door gently to spare him pain, and carefully felt my way to the bed. I made it without banging my toes and put the bottle in Mike’s hand. Sloshing followed by a sigh told me he’d put it to his forehead, easing the pain a notch. I slid down to sit on the deck, wincing as my pocket tools rattled and clinked. They sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness.
“Bad?” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
“That explains your comments at the table earlier.” Vicious underneath the humor, uncalled for and unlike him. The bottle cap scraped on its threads and I heard him drink. A swallow, a sigh, and I sensed his arm looming as he held the bottle out to me.
“Want some?”
“Thanks.” I took it from him and drank gratefully. It went down as I’d thought: cool and soothing. I passed it back to him. “Should I rustle up something from Arden?”
For the migraine, I didn’t say.
“Took ’em. Waitin’ for ’em to work.”
“I hate to do this to you, Mike, but I need to rack out.” I rose and put my hands on the folding bunk above him. “Plug your ears. It’s a squealer.”
I’d only just grabbed the pulls when Mike’s arm snaked around my knees, and the bottle hit the deck as he swept me under him.
“I thought you had a headache,” I managed when we finally came up for air.
“Endorphins’ll take care of it,” he murmured, nuzzling my ear.
“Is that why you were malingering in my bunk instead of yours?” I grinned into dark as I got his shirt off him and I felt his chuckle rumble beneath my fingers.
“Your blankets smell better.”
Mike moved in, I rose to meet him and nothing more was said. Later, I had to admit he was right: mine did smell better. I pulled them closer around us and drifted off to the sound of his breathing.
Habit woke me before my watch began beeping and I turned off the alarm before it could start. Mike was already awake and sitting shirtless at my desk, awash in the glow of my ’box which he had booted up and running. Several windows sat open on the screen and he was flipping through them quickly. I checked my watch: 05:30 hrs.
“Don’t you ever sleep?” I sat up and put my feet on the deck. He didn’t answer immediately but typed a note and closed a window, then opened two more. His eyes narrowed and content shifted on the screen.
“Did it before you walked in.”
“Four hours,” I said, doing the math. “That’s not much.”
“It’s enough.”
It was an old argument and a friendly one. I quit the bed to search for my clothes and something on the screen caught my attention.
“What happened to the ads?”
“Got tired of resisting ‘suggestions’ to buy rhino horn supplements,” he snorted. More windows opened and closed, and notes made. “What I’ve got works fine, thanks.”
“Mighty fine,” I affirmed and found my coveralls loosely folded at the foot of the bed. His doing, preferring tidiness to clutter. By its weight, I could tell he’d left my coverall’s pockets loaded and I stepped into it gratefully, spared chasing down the myriad items in the dark. I pulled on my boots, adding, “Show me that trick later?”
“If I recall correctly, I already did.” Mike turned around, the screen’s glow glinting off his eyes as he grinned. “For at least an hour.”
“With the ads, you.” I swatted him on the shoulder as he turned back to the ’box. “Though if you want to show me the other, I won’t say ‘no’.”
“Maybe. I’m behind here and need to catch up.”
I could hear the smile in his tone and I zipped my coveralls with some snap.
“And maybe I’m behind in the engine room and you’ll sleep alone tonight.” I leaned over and kissed the top of his head, breathing in the scent of him. “Don’t burn your eyes out. Breakfast’s in two.”
I left him to it and grabbing a fresh change of linen, went to the crew head to clean up.
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