Page 17 of Caldar
The computer beeped. “Command unknown.”
“Do not initiate the emergency beacon.”
“Command unknown. Please relax. Your heart rate is elevated, indicating stress. Error. Two heartbeats detected. This is a single-person unit. This unit is not capable of life support for multiple individuals.”
“Stop arguing with the computer. You can’t bully it,” Sonia said. She shimmied in place, digging the bag into him. It jabbed into his injured leg. He hissed in pain.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she said.
“What are you smuggling in there?” he asked, shoving the bag down to their feet.
“Hey! That’s mine.”
“Yes, it is your bag of poking. Very necessary.”
She wiggled again, this time against his chest. It was… distracting. Her form was soft and lush. Confined, her scent of summer citrus overwhelmed the small pod.
“Stop moving,” he ordered. He was not a youth. He could control his body’s attraction to the female but not if she kept wiggling against him.
“I’m trying to get comfortable,” she said. The pod’s interior lighting cast a blue sheen on her complexion. “I can’t believe how bossy you are.”
Caldar grinned. This was good. Sonia sounded like herself. “I am not bossy. I am decisive.”
“Divisive, more like.”
“Yes, that is true,” he said.
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Agree to disagree.”
She huffed, clearly annoyed. In his opinion, being annoyed was better than being frightened. He’d take his victory.
Her heart rate returned to a normal level. This close, he could hear the steady beat and feel her pulse.
“I know what you’re doing,” she said.
“You do not. I am a male of mystery. My motivations are inscrutable and my intentions unfathomable.”
Another huff, this one sounding amused. “You’re being annoying to distract me.”
“I am very skilled. I can be mysterious and distracting at the same time.”
“How much air is in this thing?”
“Enough,” he lied. The cruise ship was in deep space, well away from normal travel lanes. The pod would automatically seek the closest habitable planet, but it would likely not be inhabited. Their best chance of rescue would come if another pleasure vessel, in the sector for sightseeing, detected their emergency beacon.
However, there was a Suhlik vessel firing on them. Best case, the pod would be too small to target, and they could make it to an uninhabited planet where they struggled to survive for an unknown amount of time. Worst case, the Suhlik destroyed their pod. Or they ran out of air before they reached a habitable planet. Or smugglers intercepted their beacon.
There was only one good outcome and a dozen unfortunate endings.
Caldar kept that information to himself. Sonia did not need to know his dismal projections.
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here,” she said.
“If I must be in a too-small emergency pod, you are my companion of choice.”
Another laugh. Good.
