Fluency

9

Bergen, and the rest of the crew, trailed in Jane’s wake. He brought up the rear, refusing to participate in the exchange of uneasy looks being passed around. He didn’t want Jane to think he had anything but the utmost confidence in her.

She seemed to know exactly where she was going. She didn’t hesitate at intersections in the corridors. She strode purposefully to a door and tapped the control to open it, revealing a small chamber. She entered, beckoning them to join her.

Bergen shuffled to a stop as those in front of him stalled.

Bergen hated the look on Jane’s face, as she struggled not to betray whatever she was feeling.

“It’s a deck to deck transporter. It’s like an elevator,” she ground out.

Still, they hung back. Walsh was staring Jane down with a pissed expression on his face. He was making this a lot harder on her than was necessary.

Bergen shoved himself roughly between Walsh and Gibbs, taking a place at the back of the transport chamber. Ajaya nodded and joined him, Gibbs following close behind. Compton and Walsh lingered a moment longer, then followed suit.

Jane examined the eye-level controls briefly, then decisively selected a symbol. The door closed instantly, and re-opened a moment later.

Jane stood motionless. If she was having qualms, he couldn’t see her expression. Furtive glances were exchanged behind her back. They were probably all thinking the same thing he was: this hallway looked exactly like the one they’d just left. It hadn’t felt like they’d gone anywhere.

Then she was out the door, charging down the hall again.

Bergen heard Walsh say something in a low voice to Gibbs. Gibbs pulled a piece of chalk out of his pack and tagged the wall with an orienting symbol of some kind.

Bergen huffed. The fool should have thought of that before they got into the transport.

Jane paused outside a door and waited for them all to catch up. “This is it,” she said. “I’m not sure what to expect. The room inside is called the Assessment Chamber. From what I can gather, most of their medical interventions are carried out automatically. Most of the medical personnel that would be working here would be supportive staff, not like doctors as we know them.”

“Interesting,” Ajaya murmured.

Walsh was discontented. He motioned Jane back and drew his weapon, motioning for Gibbs and Compton to do the same. He tapped the door control and stepped inside.

It was an empty room with nothing more than a large disc-shaped platform in the center of it. The wall at the back of the room was curved, repeating the shape of the platform, and was replete with numerous doors.

A voice rang out, breaking the silence. Everyone, including Jane, jumped. It was a calm, even voice, non-threatening, slightly feminine. It was speaking in some foreign language. If he’d been asked to guess, he would have said Italian.

“Is that the voice you hear, Jane?” Compton asked her.

“No,” she replied, obviously confused.

Walsh looked skeptical. “What did it say, Holloway?”

She stepped further into the room. She spoke slowly—sure, but full of wonder, “It said, ‘Welcome, Undocumented Citizens.’ ”

The voice spoke again. Jane translated immediately, “Please step onto the diagnostic platform.”

Bergen shot Walsh a pointed look. If Jane was making all this up, it was getting pretty damn detailed.

Walsh walked the perimeter, his weapon ready, with Gibbs and Compton following his lead.

Ajaya stepped close to the platform and examined it. There wasn’t much to see. The platform itself was made from the same material and color as every other surface in the ship they’d seen. It was raised a good half meter from the floor, and the ceiling above it had a recess of the same dimension. When he stepped closer to look up into the vault, he could see it was inset with a dark, glassy screen.

Bergen sighed. “Ok, who’s going first?”

Ajaya straightened. “Walsh’s injuries are the most severe.”

Walsh shook his head sternly. “No.”

“Christ. I’ll go first.” Bergen made to step onto the platform.

Walsh held up a hand. “Hold on, let’s investigate further, before we jump into anything. We don’t know what this stuff does.”

But even as Walsh spoke, Jane had already stepped onto the platform. Walsh’s lips tightened. “Holloway, goddammit.”

A blue-green beam of light emanated from the recessed area above, enveloping the platform from floor to ceiling in a tube of light, casting Jane’s hair and skin in a ghastly, unearthly glow. She looked terrified, but she held her ground.

Walsh took a step toward her. “Holloway, get off—”

The voice, surely an automated computer of some kind, spoke again. Jane translated in a trembling voice, “Unidentified hominid species. Accessing files. Standby.” The light undulated in bright waves up and down her body. The voice, then Jane, “Scanning.”

Ajaya watched as if in awe. “Do you feel anything, Jane?”

Jane shook her head.

The voice spoke again. “Genusis Terrano. Homo sapiens. Afirmeu opu neu.”

Jane said, “Terran species. Homo sapiens. Confirm or deny.”

Compton joined the crowd around the platform. “Terran?”

“That’s the Latin term for Earth, is it not, Jane?” Ajaya asked.

Jane nodded, then said, “Afirme,” and seemed to brace herself.

Bergen swallowed hard, his heart slamming into his rib cage.

A full-sized, three-dimensional, transparent hologram appeared in front of Jane, mirroring her in every aspect, even down to her slightest movements. The voice spoke, then Jane, “Please state your full name for the record.” She raised her chin and said clearly, “Jane Augusta Holloway.”

All color flashed out of the hologram. What was left was a transparent outline of Jane’s body. Then several areas on the hologram began to glow bright red—her hands, the area between her shoulder blades where her hair had touched, and her right leg in small patches. The voice spoke again, this time going on for a bit. Jane hung on every word.

When it finished, Ajaya prodded, “What, Jane?”

“It knows I’m burned with chemical as well as abrasion burns. It knows the chemical I’ve been exposed to and the species it comes from. The proper name of the creatures is Coelusha limax—literally ‘space slug.’ It says when I’m finished it will open a door to a chamber where I can take a medicated shower to neutralize the alkaline substance and then receive polarized light-based healing therapy and a medicated cream to recondition my skin.”

Ajaya nodded slowly, her brow furrowed.

The hologram changed. Jane’s skeletal structure glowed red as well as a few of her internal organs. When the voice finished, Jane said, “It says I have multiple, mild, nutrient deficiencies which can be corrected with either a prescription diet or an infusion regimen.”

“Interesting,” Ajaya murmured.

The hologram transformed again, highlighting a small, t-shaped object in Jane’s abdomen. Jane went quiet and didn’t translate anything. The light went out and she stepped off the platform. One of the doors opened, revealing another chamber. “Who’s next?” she asked.

“What was that last bit about?” Walsh asked gruffly, then motioned for Compton and Gibbs to check out the room that had just opened up.

Ajaya stepped between them. “I know precisely what it was about. Jane and I will discuss it privately, later.”

Walsh didn’t like that answer and he didn’t make any moves toward the platform, so Bergen hopped up next. It was obvious that Jane trusted this stuff. If she could trust it, he could too, because he trusted her.

The blue-green light lit up instantly around him. The voice asked a question. He thought he got the gist of it. He grinned at Jane. “It’s asking if I’m human, right?”

She nodded.

“Afirme,” he answered, mimicking her. She nodded again and produced a slight, tremulous smile.

The voice spoke again and he grimaced. Would he say his whole name, or edit himself? Ah, shit. Jane did. “Bartholomew Alan Bergen,” he said, loud and clear. Jane’s smile went a little wider. He fixed his gaze on her.

Then his hologram appeared. From there it went on pretty much the same as Jane’s stint on the platform had. It highlighted his injuries and nutritional issues caused, he assumed, by the long microgravity flight. He stepped down.

So far, nothing was a surprise. Jane led them there and it checked out as advertised. Everyone turned to Walsh, waiting to see if he would step up there too. It was pretty obvious that he didn’t like how things were unfolding.

Walsh turned to Ajaya. “Varma, recommendations. Do you think these treatments sound safe? How do they compare to what you would do?”

“I recommend they do only the burn treatments, for now. They sound benign and minimally invasive. Alan has a large second-degree burn on his dominant hand that will take weeks to heal—and, honestly, Commander, hand burns are very tricky. All I can do is put a soothing cream on it, control his pain, and hope for the best. This treatment protocol—well, I’d like the opportunity to observe its effects. This ship was built by people with greater technology than our own—on Earth, medical technologies develop on scale with other technologies. I cannot help but believe that Alan and Jane would be better served here than by my own hand. The nutrient infusion can wait until we know more.”

“You want to make them human Guinea pigs?”

“With their consent, sir. I’d like Jane to ask the computer lots of questions about each treatment before it’s begun.”

Walsh’s lips were pressed in a thin line. He sent Bergen and Jane hard, evaluating looks. “Are you volunteering for this?”

Jane nodded firmly and glanced at Bergen. He nodded too. At this point, he’d do anything just to get out of the flight suit.

Walsh turned back to Ajaya. “Fine. Go with them. Make sure they don’t do anything stupid. We’re going to secure the area.”

“Commander—”

“That’s an order, Varma.” Walsh didn’t wait for a reply. He made for the nearest door, opened it, and went inside, gesturing to Compton and Gibbs to follow. They disappeared, leaving Bergen, Jane and Ajaya looking at each other. Jane turned and strode through the door that had been opened for their treatment.

This second chamber was larger, but minimalist as well. Every wall and fixture was the same putrid green color that everything else in the ship seemed to be. There were several alcoves and the walls jutted with geometric protrusions in varying sizes. He wondered if it was for aesthetics or if it were some kind of storage system.

Jane moved around the room slowly.

“What’s the first treatment?” Ajaya asked.

After a brief interchange with the computer, Jane replied, “A shower. Or, more precisely translated, a waterfall, in this recess.” She gestured limply. “It says it’s a slightly-acidic, lipid emulsion with a variety of salts, mineral oxides, and clays, all naturally and sustainably mined and harvested from unadulterated worlds.”

Ajaya nodded. “That sounds like calamine lotion. I think it sounds harmless.”

The voice spoke again. Waiting for the translations was getting really old. One of the first orders of business was going to be learning this language. Jane and the computer voice had an extended exchange. Bergen shrugged in his clothes. He wanted to get on with it. The stuff was eating through to his skin in patches and was starting to burn in new spots.

Jane was acting uncomfortable. “It expects us to shower together to conserve resources.”

Ajaya raised her eyebrows at this. “Really, Jane? You can’t talk it out of it?”

Was Jane blushing? He probably shouldn’t be looking so hard, but it was a pretty awesome predicament from his point of view. Except for Varma hanging around, of course.

“No. It just keeps saying it’s waiting for us to disrobe.”

Her expression was completely forlorn. Geez. Was it really that terrible? It’s not like they hadn’t seen each other before. Sure, he knew he wasn’t supposed to be peeking, but she wasn’t innocent of that either. He’d caught her looking before. More than once.

He tried to look blasé. “Look, I’m sorry, Jane, but this shit hurts.”

He turned his back to her to put her more at ease, and kicked off his boots while tugging down the zipper on his flight suit awkwardly with his left hand. He peeled off everything, including the wrappings on his hand, and stood there, covering up his junk with his hands to keep her from freaking out. Just getting the flight suit off was a relief.

He heard some rustling. Then Jane said, “Paratiso.”

There was a sound of rushing liquid coming from the alcove nearby.

He turned slightly to see Jane stepping under a running curtain of a milky white liquid that disappeared into a grate in the floor directly underneath. He followed, keeping himself turned away from her. It coated his body in a chalky film that was instantly soothing.

“How are you doing, Alan?” Ajaya called.

“Great. Feels great.” Damn, it felt good to be in a shower, even if it was some weird alien fluid. It was warm. It felt fantastic.

The flow shut off. He was dripping from head to toe in what looked like milk of magnesia. Now what? He glanced at Jane. Her back was to him. Her hair was saturated with the stuff, grey and stringy. She…damn, she has a nice ass.

Ajaya was wandering around the room, testing various projections on the walls. A drawer slid out at her touch. “I’ve found something that resembles towels,” she boasted.

Jane translated the newest set of instructions. “We’re supposed to stand here for a few minutes and then we can rinse and wash before the next treatment.” She peeked at him timidly, over her shoulder, her arms wrapped around herself.

“Jane, I’m not going to jump you.”

“I know that!” she retorted.

Better change the subject. “So, ah, how can you be so fluent in this language, Jane? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. I only know what he told me, which isn’t much. It feels like I’ve always known it, somehow….”

She looked so vulnerable, standing there, hugging herself with her head bowed, her hair dripping, hiding her face. He wanted to reach out and touch her, reassure her, but that probably wouldn’t be wise.

“Are you cold?” Ajaya asked.

“No,” they replied, almost in unison. The floors were heated or something. He was pretty comfortable, for being covered in wet, chalky goo.

He gestured at her, though she wouldn’t see it, “Maybe you have—always known it, I mean. On some level. If it’s really some kind of genetic thing. Do you think we all have it? Or just you?”

“He made it sound like all humans have it, that it just has to be woken up.”

The shower sprang back to life. It was a thin sheet of water, this time, rinsing most of the other stuff away. It was the perfect temperature. He forgot everything else for a minute, turning his face to the ceiling, letting the water flow over him.

“There’s some kind of soap here, Alan. It doesn’t suds up, though.”

He turned. She was pointing at a boxy object, poking out of the wall. He strode over next to her, trying to keep his eyes to himself. “How does it work?”

“Put your hand under it.”

Ajaya spoke up from behind them, “I’m going to track down Ronald. He’s got your clean flight suits. Don’t start the next treatment without me.”

A layer of fine crystals sifted onto his hand. When they touched his damp skin, they swelled to form a dense mat. He rubbed it over himself experimentally. It was like a slippery, soapy glove that seemed to dissolve the residue left by the chalky substance. He wiped himself down then stuck out his injured hand, coating just his fingertips, and concentrated on his hair, which hadn’t really been thoroughly washed for almost a year. He snuck a stealthy look at Jane. She was working the cleanser through her hair too. Her back was still coated in a fine sheen from the chalky shower and she seemed to be struggling with her hair, which had grown really long over the last year, despite the fact that she’d just lost a good chunk of it. He stepped back under the waterfall to rinse off.

“Ah, Jane?”

“What?”

“Need any help?”

“Definitely not.” She sounded exasperated, maybe with a hint of amusement.

He grinned. “Oh, good. My back…a little help?” He thumbed at his own back.

He could hear her grumbling under her breath, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying over the rush of the water. He clamped his own mouth shut.

“I’ll scratch your back, if you scratch mine, eh?” she said sarcastically.

“Maybe,” he said noncommittally.

She touched him then, tentatively at first, then with quick broad swipes. He immediately realized his mistake. Things were getting tumescent—way more than he wanted or could have anticipated. He cursed mentally and took a step forward. “Thanks,” he said in a clipped tone and dived away from her back under the water. He hadn’t felt that awkward since he was a teenaged boy. He contemplated asking her if she could make the water colder, but that would be too obvious. He’d better just get the hell out of there. Thank God Ajaya was still gone. She’d left a couple of fabric-looking things lying nearby, so he stepped out and grabbed one.

“Hey,” Jane called playfully. “What about me?”

He held the soft cloth in front of himself as casually as he could. “Oh, you want me to—”

“Well, yeah. I’m sure my back looks just like yours did.” She smiled shyly over her shoulder. Oh, God. If she only knew how enticing she looks….

She turned her attention back to her hair, tipping her head back under the water. She seemed to have miscalculated her angle as she stepped over the inclined floor under the flow of water. She was in profile now and that wasn’t helping his problem in the slightest. She’d lost most of her Rubenesque roundness after the conditioning in Houston and the long flight, but what was left of it was still in all the right places. He couldn’t help it. He was mentally filing the image away. It was just more fuel for the fantasies that filled his quiet moments.

His mind would wander and he’d find himself imagining Jane under him, moaning. Jane draped over him, satisfied. Jane pressed against a wall, her legs wrapped around him, kissing him as he…. He tore his eyes away and mentally cursed himself for being such a dick. She was going through some terrible thing and all he could think about was sex.

He tried to wrap the towel around himself, but that didn’t actually conceal anything. The fabric was too thin. It was just comical. He looked around but couldn’t see any other recourse. Fuck. He stood there another minute, trying not to look at her, trying to think through complex equations, baseball stats, conjuring images of dead puppies, anything that might make his problem go away.

“Anytime now, Alan.”

Now? Now she decides to use my first name? Her back was to him again, so he stepped forward, dropping the towel, and loaded his uninjured hand with the crystals. He stayed well away from her and rubbed it over her back. She pulled her hair forward, out of his way, bowing her head. Her skin was unbelievably soft, smooth. He ran his hand over her shoulders and couldn’t seem to stop himself from being thorough and getting it all, all the way down to her ass. He’d gone too far, surely, but she didn’t complain, didn’t move, just waited patiently.

He said in a strangled voice, “Your hair is, ah, still….”

She sighed and picked the tail of her hair off her shoulder, examining it. “I know. I can’t get it clean. It was so dirty, I think it just soaked up that stuff.”

He should turn around and walk away, but instead he offered, “I still have a lot of soap on my hand. I could—”

“Ok.” She swung her hair back and it landed with a wet slap between her shoulder blades. Like him, she’d probably been a tow-head as a child, and couldn’t give that up as she aged. The tips of her hair were still bright, golden blonde, the same color it had been when he’d met her, but as her hair had grown over the journey, it had grown in several shades darker.

He caught her hair in his hand and raked his fingers through it gently, trying to evenly distribute the cleanser.

This…this is a really bad idea.

“I haven’t had long hair like this since I was a little girl. I’m not even sure how to take care of it properly.”

“Really?” he squeaked. He was regressing, apparently. He cleared his throat. “I used to give my little sisters their baths sometimes. They hated washing their hair.”

“That’s sweet. How old were you?”

“I don’t know. Probably ten or eleven.” He reached up and smoothed his hand over the top of her head, still combing out the tangles with his fingers. He’d gotten closer somehow and could see the peaks of her breasts over her shoulder. He tried not to groan. If she so much as brushed up against him right now, he’d probably explode. Suddenly all the repressed need of the last year was crashing over him. It’s not like there’d ever been an opportunity to take care of it himself. There were always five pairs of ears just inches away.

Oh, God this is torture.

What if I tell her I want her? Maybe she needs a little romp, too….

No. Don’t be a moron. That would ruin everything.

“Maybe I should just dump a bunch of this stuff on my head and it’ll come clean.”

He barely registered that she’d spoken. Suddenly she was twisting, turning, reaching out to get more soap. He didn’t have time to think, to react preemptively. She saw. Clearly she saw him in all his glory. She’d been less guarded, too, though, when she’d turned, showing herself fully to him as well.

He waited, stricken, to see what she would do.

She straightened and turned away very slowly. “Thank you. I think I can take it from here.”

“Jane—”

Ajaya came bustling in. “How is it going in here?”

Oh, fuck. What next?

He moved back under the sluice of water. “Jane, the water’s a little hot, can you adjust it?” he asked quietly.

“I…certainly.” She reached out tentatively to touch a symbol. “How’s that?”

The temperature changed instantly, but only by a few degrees. “More,” he prompted. “A lot more.”

“Ok.” She tapped it several more times, glancing at him with a blank expression and hooded eyes.

“That’s…good.” He closed his eyes and stood there stiffly, letting the water do its work. He tried not to think about what had just happened, but wasn’t terribly successful.

He’d always thought she secretly felt the same way, that the attraction was mutual. But now…her reaction…he wasn’t sure. She was definitely straight-laced. She played by the rules. That would always be a factor. That’s why he always knew he’d have to wait. The mission came first. He knew that logically, and yet, he’d always hoped that they might indulge themselves secretly at some point. He was too much of a hedonist to give up that hope, even now, faced with damn-near rejection.

They’d been lectured extensively in Houston about not giving in to what had been called “inevitable impulses,” citing the potential impact on crew cohesion, performance, and mission success. Then there’d been the sessions where a cognitive behavioral therapist counseled the crew on strategies to cope with long-term abstinence. He tried to bring some of those strategies to mind now, but they hadn’t been terribly memorable and he doubted they’d have been helpful in any case. He should have paid more attention at the time.

It didn’t take long to cool off. He sauntered back to the discarded towel, dried off and cinched it around his waist, then occupied himself with poking around the room, which contained little of interest.

“I found these kimono-like garments that might do for the moment,” Ajaya said, holding up a swath of khaki green fabric that could have been a bed sheet. “This is the smallest size I could find. These people must be quite tall and robust.” Bergen slipped it on and wrapped it around himself. It was a thin, filmy material. The hem was below his knees and the sleeves were deep, to the waist. The tie was really long and slung very low. It was pretty ridiculous. He was completely over the whole process, ready to be done with it.

The computer’s voice spoke again and Jane directed them back to the central room, then through a newly opened door. It was a fairly small room, dominated by another platform, this one squarish, waist-high, with just one large step in front of it. The platform itself appeared to be glass. At Ajaya’s request, Jane queried the computer about the light therapy and said that it was commonly used for many types of skin afflictions. The wavelengths used were manipulated based on diagnosis. A drawer opened, revealing small oval pieces of greenish plastic that Jane said were eye protection.

“I’ll just wait out here,” Bergen said firmly, avoiding both of their gazes.

“It expects us to—”

“Well, I’ll just skip it then. You have my clothes, Ajaya?”

Ajaya narrowed her eyes and stepped in front of him, picking up and examining his hand with a cool, professional air. “I think it would be a good idea to try the therapy, Alan. This burn is pretty severe. You could develop scarring that could impede the use of your hand.”

“We don’t know what kind of methodology they use. It could give us skin cancer for all we know,” he countered.

Jane touched his arm lightly. “It’s ok, Alan.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

“Good. I’ll wait out here and I expect a full report. This is quite exciting for me, you see. My graduate work was based on light therapy for psoriasis patients.”

They stepped inside and the door closed behind them.

“Turn around,” he said, more gruffly than he’d intended. She complied without comment and he untied the robe. “Are we supposed to stand up there or what?”

“We’re supposed to lie on the glass. Another panel will lower from the ceiling to sandwich us between the lights.”

“Great.” He hopped up on the platform and stretched out on the surface. There was plenty of room for Jane and probably three other people. He draped the fabric of the robe over his privates, placed the slivers of plastic over his eyes, and said, “I’m ready.”

Soon he sensed she was lying beside him. She said, “Paratiso,” and there was a quiet whirring sound as the screen above them lowered. He lifted his hand, rapping his knuckles against it gently. It was hovering maybe a centimeter above his nose.

The glass warmed. Despite the eye protection, even with his eyes closed, he could see a faint magenta glow around the edges of his peripheral vision. He wondered how long this treatment would take, but he didn’t feel like asking her any questions, so he stayed silent and spread the palm of his burned hand evenly over the glass.

“Alan?”

He sighed. “What?”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s a normal physiological response.” She sounded crisp, rehearsed.

“I know that. We don’t need to talk about this.” This was why he never hung out with any individual girl for very long. He didn’t like being drug through a bunch of emotional crap.

That didn’t deter her. She continued, sounding less assured as she went on, “I know you saw the IUD. I just…I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m flattered. I am. But I’m not interested in casual sex. You…I just thought you should know that.”

An IUD? Huh. He’d thought that was some kind of birth control, when he’d seen it. Her embarrassment seemed to confirm that. He wondered briefly if that had been her idea or NASA’s. Then he realized that wasn’t really the important part of what she was saying to him.

He needed to say something to her that struck some kind of balance between reassuring her and not shutting any doors. The minutes stretched out. What would sound like he was interested in having a real relationship with her, without sounding creepy after what just happened?

His voice came out a little harsher, a little more defensive, than he wanted. “You’re reading way too much into this. I don’t know anything about your female gadgets. I never made any assumptions about you. I don’t see you that way, Jane.”

“Oh—I didn’t—I mean—you….”

He softened his tone. “Jane, you’re a beautiful gi—” he caught himself, just in time, “—woman.” He let out a breath from between tense lips. “Look, nothing I say right now is going to sound right. You know that, don’t you? Can we just drop it, please?”

She snorted softly.

“You’ve got enough to worry about. You don’t need to be thinking about….”

“I don’t want to think about that either,” she said quietly.

“I wouldn’t either if some alien was mind-fucking me.” He immediately regretted saying it. He was all riled up. He didn’t know what he was saying anymore. He slid his left hand across the glass until he made contact with her…arm. Probably just her arm. He tapped it hesitantly with his fingertips, hoping she’d realize it was an apology.

“But he is doing it to you. I think he’s doing it to all of us.” She spoke softly, barely above a whisper, and her hand latched onto his suddenly, her grip almost painful.

He swallowed hard and squeezed back. “No, I’d know.”

“Would you? How could he know everything that’s going on? How could he know the trouble you and Walsh were in?”

“There must be sensors, cameras—”

“I thought so too, at first. But, he knew that when we went back into the capsule, I never said a word about what had happened to me to any of you.”

A cold, uneasy feeling settled in his stomach. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah.”

He squeezed her hand again. “Well, so far he seems like a good guy. He’s helping us, right? He helped you to get to us…in time.”

He should probably tell her that it really had been barely in time—that he’d forgotten where he was and what he was doing a couple of times. He’d forgotten to share the air. He’d almost let go. But how could he tell her that—that seeing her face in that moment had been such a relief, that he owed her his life, that he’d do anything for her? He didn’t know how to say that.

They went silent for a while. He let his hand go limp, but it remained in contact with hers. He wasn’t sure what that meant to her. The light spectrum had changed at some point, he realized, was less intense, more red. He wanted to ask her to tell him everything, every detail that had happened to her from the first, but Walsh would eventually get to that and she shouldn’t have to repeat everything three times. “Well, it’s pretty effed up, but it’s far better than what I expected to happen when we opened the hatch.”

“What was that?”

“I was pretty sure there was going to be something really grotesque that was going to eat us. I thought they might play with us for a while, maybe, before they started tearing us limb from limb.”

“You really thought that?”

“Yep.”

“Then why did you want to go so bad?”

“Lifelong dream. Only opportunity and whatnot.”

Her hand twitched. He imagined she was probably shaking her head, maybe even chuckling silently. “You must watch a lot of scary movies.”

“Used to. Haven’t seen a good flick in probably four or five years. Working too much. What was the last movie you saw?”

There was still laughter in her voice. “Hm. Can’t remember. Probably some chick flick with my girlfriend, Sam. I didn’t get out much.”

“You weren’t dating?”

“Since my divorce? No. I haven’t dated since high school.”

He hesitated, but he really wanted to know. “Why did you split up?”

“He’s a lawyer. You probably knew that.” She paused.

Maybe it was too personal. He shouldn’t have asked.

But she continued, her voice sounding more melancholy. “One day I just realized he and I didn’t envision the same future anymore. I began to feel like the time he spent with me was just another form of work. It felt like he was tallying in his head how many hours he was going to bill me for and I couldn’t live like that anymore.”

“He’s an ass.”

“He was involved with someone else within weeks. It had been over between us long before I came to that conclusion. I was holding him back.”

“Jane—that’s not true. He was being an idiot. You deserve better.”

“We were kids when we got together. You can’t know who you’re going to turn into when you’re seventeen. No, you—you’ve got the right idea. Perpetual bachelorhood. You get the best of all of it.”

“Hardly.”

“Oh, come on. Your place is a man-cave. You’re quite a player. It must be fun.”

He froze, clenching her hand involuntarily. “What? Who told you that?”

“Gene and Lisle when they came to visit from JPL.”

Those bastards! He’d warned them to stay away from her. He sputtered uncontrollably, “They weren’t there for a social call. They were there consulting, and I never left them alone with you!” Crap. Now he’d said too much. She had a way of bringing that out in him.

She chuckled, out loud this time. “No. You didn’t. They joined me for lunch once when you were in an engineering meeting that they weren’t required to attend. It was a very enlightening meal.”

He had a new reason to make it through the mission alive. He had to get back to Earth so he could wring their geeky necks.

“They—they’re not the most reliable witnesses,” he said sourly.

Her voice was teasing again. It sounded delicious. “I could see that. They think you’re a god.”

“They do not. They both have girlfriends. Lisle is probably married by now. They don’t know anything. They don’t know what it’s really like.”

“What’s it really like, Alan?” Her voice had turned husky. She was slowly stroking his middle finger with her thumb. His chest felt tight and his skin tingled—and not from the light. Why would she do that? Dammit. She was the queen of mixed messages. How could such a simple touch turn his brain to jelly? He could barely think.

“It’s…I was thinking about getting a dog, but I work too much.” What was this, some kind of confessional?

“Why not just settle down?”

He pulled on his arm a little and changed the position of his hand so she’d have to stop it. “I don’t know how to….”

“Settle down? Just pick one and stick around for a while.”

“That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I didn’t know—I didn’t know where to find the right one to do that with.”

“Oh. That’s not an easy one.”

“No. I should have tried harder, I guess. It was too easy to just keep going the way I was going.”

“Maybe when we get back, it’ll be easier.”

“That’s the plan.” He clutched her hand almost convulsively, hoping to transmit the message, hoping she was receiving it, interpreting it correctly.

She made a strange sound like a yelp and her hand yanked from his grasp.

“Jane? You ok?”

“Something’s wrong. I think….”

“What?”

“I have to go. I’ll be back soon.”

“Jane, wait—tell me what’s going on first!”

She didn’t answer. He pulled on her arm, but she’d gone limp. “Jane?” He felt blindly for her shoulder, grazing—oh, crap—that was definitely a breast. “Sorry, Jane. Jane?” He pushed on her shoulder, but she wasn’t responding. “Jane!”

His voice was drowned out by a blaring klaxon. He jerked, banging his forehead on the glass above them. He let out a string of curses. One of the eye pieces fell off and he realized that the lights had shut off and the screen was rising into the ceiling.

He sat up. The door opened and Ajaya peeked into the room.

“What the fuck’s going on?” he demanded.

Ajaya looked bewildered. She shouted, “I’ve no idea. The lighting changed and then this alarm started.”

He could see what she meant. The room beyond was cast in a reddish glow, making it seem darker, more sinister. He turned to look at Jane. She was slack-jawed.

“She’s out again. I don’t like this,” he bellowed.