The Passenger Ch. 04

All this makes EV work like a dance in slow motion if you do it right, or a wild fandango if you do it wrong. And because the thruster on a P-suit only has a very limited amount of reaction mass, desperately trying to regain control of yourself after a blunder is a great way of leaving you right in the middle of nothing with a depleted thruster tank, at which point you're pretty much screwed.

So I made sure to move very slowly and carefully when I reached out for the handhold set in the outer hull. I grabbed it when I floated past it, halting and turning myself at the same time. Still holding myself in place, I twisted the release that opened the compartment containing the fuel hose. I had fitted it with a thin line and a loop when we stowed it. I stuck my wrist trough the loop and pulled the line tight around it. That's all the P-suit's thick gloves would let me do. Tying a knot or attaching a clip in a P-suit is pretty much impossible; it's like trying to operate a computer console while wearing boxing gloves. That's why you usually have manipulators set into the gloves of your suit, but for this job I shouldn't need them. Manipulators are also one of the more expensive components of a P-suit, and our funds had been limited, so we hadn't included any when we bought the suit.

Slowly I pulled the fuel hose from its compartment, playing out the line around my wrist as I went along. The line would prevent the hose from taking off on its own. Space is a great place for losing things: they float just out of reach in zero gee, and finding and recovering them is a bitch. Just about every inhabited system has enough crap floating around in orbit to built several major space ships with.

"Harvey? How are you doing?" Anne's voice came over the ship-to-suit comms.

"All okay, Anne," I said. "I've got the fuel line out and I'm about to attach it on our side. You should hear the coupler in a few moments."

"Okay."

Even over the suit's tiny commlink speaker he sounded tense.

"And what about you?" I asked.

"All fine here. Just... Be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, Anne. I'll be fine."

I turned myself with one hand (that's how you work in space most of the time: one hand for yourself and one for the job) and I managed to maneuver the end of the fuel line toward the coupler. The other end of the line floated out, almost executing a slow-motion whiplash, and I was grateful for having tied it to my wrist, because it almost slipped from my hand as it did so. With some effort I positioned the end of the hose onto the coupler, then pushed and twisted it until I felt it click in place. The vacuum of space is absolutely quiet and other than your own breathing, the blood rumbling in your ears and your body moving inside your pressure suit, you can't hear a damn thing. But you can still feel things vibrating as you touch them, so you go by feel more than by hearing. And of course you check your indicators to make sure you've gotten it right.

"We're locked on at this side," I said. "Anne?"

"Green light," Anne confirmed.

"Good. Starting across."

"Copy that," Raz said.

I took a deep breath and let go of the handhold. I was still tied to the far end of the fuel line, which was now sticking out of the 'Pride's hull at a more or less straight angle, pointing toward the Slowboat. The hose was just rigid enough so that I could pull myself forward, hand over hand, across its length until I reached the end of it. Then I switched on my thruster, and I began to move forward past the end of the fuel line.

This was the really scary part. I knew I couldn't fall. I knew that the loop around my wrist still tied me to the fuel line, which in turn was firmly attached to the Starman's Pride. I knew that, even without the life-line, the thruster in my P-suit would safely get me back to either ship if the fuel hose should become detached. But none of that mattered. Right now I was a very small, very fragile ape that had just fallen out of the tree and desperately needed something firm to hold on to before he would hit the forest floor so far below him.

"Harvey? Are you okay?"

"Rrrelax, Anne," Raz said. "Harrrvey. Brrreathe calmly."

I hadn't noticed that I was hyperventilating. With some effort I got my breathing under control, and a few moments later my pounding heart began to slow down. I looked straight ahead, focusing on the Slowboat as it slowly got closer and trying to ignore that enormous, awful nothingness below me.

The fuel hose slowly stretched as I floated forward, slowing me down gradually as it did so, and its concertina structure expanded until I reached the Slowboat's aft hull. The fuel line had pulled me slightly off course and there was no handhold for me to grab, so I turned myself and used my thruster until I slowly moved toward the fuel line coupler. I stuck my foot into the rung set into the hull next to the coupler, then I grabbed the rung with my hand before the stretched fuel line could pull me away from the ship again.

It took some awkward maneuvering, but I managed to get the connector at the end of the fuel hose lined up with the coupler. A push, twist and click later, both ships were connected to each other. This was the risky part of the whole operation. If the 'Pride and the Slowboat were to drift too far apart, the fuel line could break and we'd be scuttled.

"Green light," Raz confirmed. "Anne, start the transfer."

"Starting fuel transfer," Anne replied.

Suddenly the fuel line started to move as if it was alive. It shuddered, then thrashed around wildly as the fuel rushed into it. But soon its movement slowed down.

"Rrreceiving fuel," Raz said. "Looking good."

"Great," I answered. "I'm starting back to the 'Pride."

Taking a deep breath, I removed the loop from around my wrist, which meant that I was now completely disconnected from either ship. Trying very hard not to think about that, I turned and switched on my thruster. Keeping my eyes on the airlock that I was aiming for, I let the gentle push drive me forward before switching off.

Slowly I coasted across, turning the thruster back on and hunching my shoulders slightly to adjust my course about halfway through. A second or so of that was enough. Because I had kept my speed very low, all I had to do was reach out and grab the handhold next to the 'Pride's outer airlock door to bring me to a gentle stop. I carefully maneuvered myself into the open airlock, pulling myself forward hand over hand on the rungs set into the bulkhead. I heaved a sigh of relief as I slammed the big red button with my gloved hand.

The outer door slid shut, and gravity dropped down on me like a ton of bricks. The Slowboat's onboard artigrav was equipped with a soft-start feature, but the 'Pride was much older, or maybe the soft-start wasn't working any more. I just managed to keep standing as my feet hit the floor. Blood rushed down from my head to my legs, making me feel dizzy for a moment, and I gasped as my internal organs suddenly settled back into their usual configurations. I also felt my cock swell and strain against the inside of my suit for a few moments as blood rushed into the lower half of my body. My legs felt like they were about to burst, and I swayed for a few moments until I recovered.

The suit lost its tension and half-collapsed around me as the pressure in the airlock slowly rose. Eventually the gauge reached the green line. The red ceiling light went off, and I grabbed the T-bar and turned it. The inner airlock door slid open. I stepped through and with a sigh of relief I released the clamps on my helmet. As soon as I had my helmet off and one of my gloves removed, I thumbed the intercom button.

"Back on board, Anne," I said.

"Good," she replied. "Glad to have you back here."

She sounded tinny through the Intercom unit, but I could hear the relief in the voice.

"That makes two of us," I said. "I'll be there as soon as I'm out of my pressure suit."

"No problem. The fuel transfer is still going."

I got out of my pressure suit, which is much more of a pain in the ass than it sounds like, and stowed it in its cabinet before making my way back to the bridge. On the way there I took the opportunity to scratch myself rather thoroughly. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to have an itch while wearing a P-suit?

The look Anne gave me when I sat back down next to her was a mix of relief, happiness, worry and something else, something that I could not quite put my finger on.

"Glad you're back," was all she said.

"Me too," I replied. "How're we doing?"

"Fuel transfer is almost complete."

I looked at the screen and saw that she was right. All other systems were still green, too, and the nav computer was still keeping both ships on a similar course without varying the distance between them more than a few inches. Before long the indicator on the screen reached one hundred percent, and when I tapped the controls the fuel valve status changed from open to closed.

"Valve closed on this end, Raz," I said into the ship-to-ship comms.

"Rrroger that," Raz said. "Closed herrre as well. Rrready to cut."

"Copy. Jettison in three, two, one..."

I tapped the control that would release the fuel line from the coupler at our end. Raz would do the same at his, and our fuel line would join the tenuous cloud of space debris orbiting Ursa's sun.

"Fuel line jettisoned," Raz said.

"Same here. Stand by for jump solution."

"Rrrogerrr."

I tapped out the sequence that would transmit our jump calculation to the Slowboat's navigation computer. Being on the same course and having the same velocity, both ships would be able to use the same jump solution and emerge from hyperspace in the same location. Or so the plan went. Hyperspace can be funny, but all things being equal we should be able to rendezvous upon reversal without too much trouble.

"Data rrrecieved; courrrse laid in," Raz reported.

"Great. So let's get the hell out of there. Raz, are you go?"

"Grrreen boarrrd."

"Same here. Ready to increase separation."

"Rrrogerrr."

I punched the controls and watched the indicators as both ships slowly drifted further apart. When the distance had increased to a safe limit, I keyed the ship-to-shop commlink for the last time.

"Ready here, Raz. See you in five days. And thank you."

"My pleasurrre," he rumbled. "And please feel frrree to use my cabin. The bed is much biggerrr. I have a feeling the two of you arrre going to need it."

Anne smiled.

"Thanks, Raz," she said. "But please get the medpack out and take care of yourself, okay?"

"I will. If you take carrre of Harrrvey forrr me."

"Always, Raz," she said. "See you soon."

"Not soon enough," I said. "Next stop, Manaka. See you there, Raz. And look after yourself. Starman's Pride out."

"No prrroblem. See you therrre. Slowboat out."

And with a metallic click the ship-to-ship comms closed down.

"Is he going to be alright?" Anne asked.

I nodded.

"Raz can take care of himself. He wasn't boasting when he said he's had worse. A blaster burn like that is no fun, but I've seen him take bigger ones and walk away. They're made of stern stuff, Gawrrans."

"I feel terrible about him going through all of that for us."

"Yeah. Me too."

"We owe him. Big time."

I smiled.

"Raz and I have owed each other for a long time. I don't think we're keeping score any more. But yes, we do."

I ran through an abbreviated version of the normal preflight checklist, then gave the computer the go-ahead. The 'Pride's sublight drive came to life behind us, sounding subtly different this time as we gradually built up to a higher acceleration than before to make up for the time we'd lost. We'd have to arrive at our jump point as if we had been under constant normal acceleration, or our jump calculation would become invalid and we'd end up in the middle of nowhere. The fact that we'd lost some mass during the fuel transfer made it a little easier, but the drive still had to work at a far higher output than it normally did. Fortunately we were still within safe limits. The 'Pride was old, but Raz had looked after her very well.

We spent the next few hours in our seats, watching as the view ahead changed very little. We didn't pass any planets or other objects circling Ursa's blue-tinged sun, which meant we didn't need to worry about any course changes, but that also meant that there was very little to see on our way out.

We didn't talk much. I suppose we both were a little apprehensive. I know I was. I still expected Vergence to come after us and somehow overtake us before we could make the jump to hyperspace. I'd feel a lot safer once we'd made the jump. Raz had filed a flight plan for the Starman's Pride to Manaka, along with the documents for his cargo of agricultural equipment. There was no reason to assume that Vergence would know that the Slowboat was going there as well, but then, there was no reason to assume they didn't, either. So I kept watching our aft view for signs of pursuit, and I think Anne did, too.

As it was, we reached our jump point without problems, and with our jump capacitors fully charged we completed the countdown. Space turned itself inside out around us and threw us tumbling head over heels in a direction that could not exist within normal, three-dimensional space. It's something you never get used to; at least I haven't, so far. And then it was over, and we both sighed in relief as the vaguely luminous black nothingness of hyperspace replaced the star-speckled blackness we had been watching a moment before.

"Well, that's it," I said, locking down the controls. "Nothing's going to change for the next five days, no matter what happens."

"And then?" Anne asked.

"We'll be fine," I said with a confidence I didn't quite feel. "If they were going to follow us, they would have done it by now. But they haven't. Instead we're in a ship they've never heard of, delivering plows and hoes to some backwater mudball. And the Slowboat didn't file a flight plan at all. She just took off with not even enough fuel to leave the system. So we're fine for now."

"And later?"

"We'll burn that bridge when we cross it."

Anne smiled.

"I think you got your metaphors mixed there."

"Yes, and I'm quite proud of it. Also, I'm hungry."

I unbuckled myself from the pilot's chair, stood, and stretched.

"What about you?" I asked.

Anne stood up as well, and watching her stretch was one of the three greatest pleasures in life I could think of right then.

"Yes, I could do with a bite," she said.

"Good. Let's see what the autokitchen has to offer."

The 'Pride's autokitchen wasn't quite as good at the one on the Slowboat, but it was still pretty decent. The selection was a little heavy on the red meats, but there was still plenty of good stuff. While Gawrrans are mostly carnivores, these days their diets usually include a lot of foodstuffs that humans enjoy. Except for caffeine, that is, but a little programming later I had managed to solve that particular problem and I took my first sip from a steaming mug of the hot, good stuff.

We had a light meal. Anne indulged her sweet tooth again, and I couldn't help wonder if her fondness for sweet foods had anything to do with the way her body processed food to recharge its power source. That would make sense, I supposed, since sugar is a fully oxidizing, high-energy carbohydrate.

As I dropped the bowls and cups into the autokitchen's return chute, I suddenly found myself yawning. Ann saw it and smiled.

"We need to get out of this flight suits," she said.

I gave her a lecherous smile.

"Don't let me stop you."

"You have a one-track mind."

"Uh-huh. But at least it's the right track."

She stuck out her tongue at me.

"Don't use my own words against me."

"I'm the captain. I can get away with it."

"I know. It's terribly unfair."

I yawned again.

"But you're right, I said. "We need some downtime."

She got up from the Pride's small mess table, put her arms around me and kissed me.

"Well, Raz said we could use his cabin," she said. "Let's go see what it's like."

I held her close, the lovely, honey-blond curls of her hair soft against my face.

"He did give us the run of the ship," I said, "So yeah, let's do that."

To be honest, the idea did make me feel a little uncomfortable. Privacy is one of the most valuable commodities on small ships like this, right after oxygen, fuel, water and food. To enter Raz' private cabin somehow felt wrong. But he had okayed it, so I supposed it was alright. Still it felt weird, like using someone's toothbrush without their permission.

Anne keyed the door controls and the entrance to the cabin slid open.

"Oh, my," she said.

I had to agree. Raz' cabin was fairly large but it was also as sparse, tight and scrupulously clean and neat as the rest of the ship. The available space was almost entirely taken up by an enormous bed, which was covered with some shiny synthetic fabric that was probably fur-repellent. It was also large enough for at least two Gawrrans. Interesting. But Anne didn't notice my raised eyebrows and the amused smile on my face, because her gaze was fixed on the door at the back that led to the cabin's sanitary facilities.

The bathroom was about as large as the cabin. The head, while large, was fairly standard, but the shower stall was double-sized just like the bed, and through the transparent partition I could see an array of several dozen sprayers at all sorts of heights and angles. A hot air dryer was fitted at the top, and the outlet set in the floor was fitted with a large fur trap, which is more or less the common arrangement for furry species.

Anne slowly walked toward the bathroom, gazing at it as if hypnotized.

"This," she said softly, "is exactly what we need on the Slowboat."

"That would be good," I agreed. "Although there has to be a massive water tank and recycler unit somewhere to support this thing. Ours isn't nearly big enough."

"Details," Anne dismissed my concerns absentmindedly.

She ran her thumb down the front of her flight suit, undoing the fastener. She shrugged it off and stepped out of it. Then she turned, reached out to me and undid the fastener on my flight suit as well. She moved the fabric aside and pulled it down until I could step out of it. I wasn't slow to take the hint.

Then she held out her hand.

"Maybe you should come and wash my back for me," she said softly. "There's plenty of room for both of us. I might even get lost in there, all alone..."

I took her hand and she led me into the bathroom. We stepped into the shower stall and the door slid shut behind us. I studied the control panel set into the wall, then tapped the zone that would activate the shower. For a moment nothing happened, then the nozzles moved into position.

The first spray was a very fine mist, warm and humid more than wet, but gradually the water flow increased and we were bathed in millions and millions of pleasantly warm droplets that hit us from all sides: above, below, and anything in between. Some of the nozzles slowly moved, sliding up and down as they changed direction, while others remained fixed. It was just the sort of thing you'd need if you wanted every bit of fur on your body thoroughly cleaned, but on our furless skins it just felt amazing.

Anne closed her eyes and raised her hands to her face, and all I could do was stare and remember to breathe. She was so achingly beautiful. Small streams and rivulets of water ran down the curves of her body: down her breasts, along her stomach, across the swell of her buttocks, the curve of her hips... By raising her arms, she lifted her breasts, displaying them in all their full, rounded glory.

I stood behind her and put my hands on her shoulders, gently rubbing her smooth skin. She sighed as I caressed her neck, her shoulders, her back. I held out my hand and the soap dispenser set into the wall delivered a quantity of fragrant liquid soap into my palm. Slowly and carefully I began to soap her shoulders and her back, covering her skin with a creamy lather. I moved down, soaping her lower back, my hands moving in lazy, gentle circles.