After approximately five minutes I heard another pair of shoes, coming from nearby. Assuming Honeysuckle was still barefoot, it would have to be Cinnamon. I was reclining against the pillow and wall hoping that she was coming to see me. I was happy to see her face as she leaned into my room.
"Hello stranger," she said with a smile.
"Hi, Cinnamon," I replied, doing my best to act cool. "Did you want to come in?"
"Ummmmmmmm," she answered. I waited for either a yes or no that did not come. Finally, I threw my legs over the edge and sat up. Maybe she was here to lock me up for the night. I preferred more association before that happened, if it was possible.
"Did you want to talk?" I asked, patting the bed where Vanilla had just sat a moment ago.
"No," she replied, more cautious and less sensual than I was hoping. "I mean yes, we can talk. But not in here. Did you want to join us in the galley for some conversation?"
Well, of course I did. My quarters would be the best setting for accelerating a close relationship, but the other room with two beautiful young women would work just fine for me. As long as I wasn't getting locked up just yet.
We sat there at the plain white galley table and talked for a while about our lives. I learned that they both grew up on Infinity Station Vega, but that they did not know each other until after they were recruited for the Arketa Koreta. Their station orbited the star that it was named for, very close to a massive asteroid belt. Mining those space rocks and selling the ore or refined products made from it to visiting ships was the primary source of income for the station.
The huge circular construction was home to more than forty thousand people but functioned primarily as a manufacturing and trade facility. When hotels were full of crews from visiting ships, the population could double. It was not all that surprising that they had never met before their recruitment.
I did my best to be vague regarding my life on Earth. I needed to include enough real details to be convincing, but twist things to have me look like an astronaut or a marine instead of a criminal. It was harder than I had anticipated. I found myself deflecting several times before I could manage to raise too much doubt to my authenticity.
I discreetly asked about their skin modifications. Apparently, that was something that women took a lot of pride in, and it wasn't impolite to ask. It gave me the opportunity to exam their sexy slender bodies with curiosity and not be considered a pervert. Honeysuckle even let me lick her wrist with Cinnamon's urging. Between the two, the white-haired girl was the more flirtatious.
Honey's eyes were bright white, which I would have thought to be more disturbing than they were. Upon closer examination I saw a dark green border between the iris, which was usually colored, and the softer white sclera part. She told me that Vanilla had the same thing to separate her creamy eyes as well, only hers was a dark brown.
They asked about my tattoos and wondered what happened to my vest. I didn’t particularly care for the fashion statement that it made, so it was stashed in a locker in my quarters, along with many of my tools that were not confiscated.
They told me that the three women that were yet to return from their mission were Sage, Coffee and Strawberry. Coffee was the only one of the three that they seemed to have any fondness for. From their brief description of her, I looked forward to her return. My last girlfriend was dark skinned, like Coffee was said to be.
"There was another girl," Honeysuckle told me as she slowly looked down at the table in sadness. Cinnamon matched her gesture a moment later, though she did not seem to be as emotionally affected by the topic. "But she was the first one to be killed."
"I'm sorry. Was she a friend of yours."
"Yes, we liked her a lot," Honey replied. Cinnamon bowed even lower. Perhaps she was saddened by the girl's death as well. "That was before we knew to mask our scent with the paste that Vanilla makes for us. It was before the guys got killed, too. The men liked her even more than the rest of us did."
"What was her name?" I asked.
Honeysuckle did not reply right away. In fact, the pause was lengthy, during which Cinnamon's body started trembling. Was she crying?
Finally, the green skinned babe answered. "Her name was Bacon."
Bacon? For real? I knew the look on my face revealed how shocked I was that a girl was named and modified to smell like the super tasty and popular fried meat. Honeysuckle held her composure surprisingly well. It was Cinnamon that gave them away. She wasn't crying after all. She was laughing.
The joke was on me. There never was another girl. After getting over being the target of the humor I realized that was super fucking funny. These girls had a sense of humor that I could work with. Once I had some material, I felt good about my chances of making them laugh. That would only help endear me to them more speedily.
I accidentally let the f-word fly a couple times as I got more casual in their presence. It turned out that the word had not been used widely for a very long time. They did both understand what it meant, and the many uses for the word. It was just extremely outdated. They had no problem with reviving it for my sake, though. They just laughed each time that it was used. It was like me hearing someone say cool beans or totally rad.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
I was locked in for the night as I had expected. Cinnamon apologized for the lack of trust just before the door slid shut. I told that I understood the situation. A metal basin, possibly the same one that received my semen specimen earlier in the day, was provided in case I needed to urinate.
The attractive tan skinned sweetie also informed me that a low volume alarm would sound five minutes before my door would unlock. I was free to come out and use the toilet or shower after that. I wouldn't need to wait for someone to retrieve me. Apparently, they were providing me some level of freedom to see what I would do with it.
I slept in the nude, happy to be out of my clothes once again. There had to be a laundry facility onboard somewhere, I figured. I preferred to continue to wear my own clothes each day instead of a dead man's uniform. Additionally, his footwear was too large. My boots wouldn't match the clothes of the ship's crew, but fashion was not a big deal for me. Considering how important appearance was for these women, though, it could be the deciding factor for them. I would have to inquire.
The ultra-thin sheet had almost no weight to it but somehow provided the comfort of a blanket. I was able to stay reasonably cool during the night and sleep well. I only woke up twice in the dark room scrambling to remember where I was. If there was a night light function, I did not know how to use it. I managed to grab one of my flashlights from my pack for future use.
One particular nightmare had me searching for the bed pan. The green dragon's long face smiling above me, sharp claws holding me down. In my dream he even spoke to me, telling me to be cautious. I had no idea what it meant or if my subconscious was just fucking with me.
I woke just before the alarm, which turned out to be a repeating buzz near the headboard. I was fully dressed and sitting patiently on the side of the bed when I noticed a tiny green light flash three times by the door button. Sure enough, the lock had been released. I stepped into the hallway expecting to see someone. There were only three people besides me, and the ship was stationary, so it wasn't like there should be activity.
When no one appeared and no sounds were coming from the galley, I grabbed my bed pan and tip-toed to the toilet room. I was able to rinse it out and use the facility without being interrupted. It was funny the kinds of things that I worried about in different situations. Just a few days ago I could take a shit in front of a guard without hesitation. Now I didn't even want people to know that I pissed in a pan.
After exiting the restroom, I stood motionless for a moment debating on what to do with the clean basin. Should I put it back in my room, or take it to the medical bay? It was quite possible that the cleaning job that I had done would be considered unacceptable for either. Was there a place to put dirty things?
When the door to the shower room whisked open beside me, I almost dropped the thing. Honeysuckle stepped casually out into the hallway wearing a white wrap that resembled a tucked in towel. She had nothing else on.
Due to the skimpiness of her regular uniform I was already familiar with most of her enticing body. The wrap did not expose anymore skin but clung to her torso in a way that revealed every detail of her form beneath. My jaw dropped as I examined her marvelous physique. Her waist was tapered and thin, but tight in her abdomen. I could see the muscle grouping there indicating that she must be the queen of sit-ups.
Ample breasts for her size jutted out getting my immediate attention. They were round and firm, perfect in shape. Both nipples, though small, were pointing forward. The material clung to every inch like a wet t-shirt. There was very little gap between her lovely mounds. I had assumed that the uniform pushing them together had made them so appealing before. Apparently, the bobsy twins were as awesome as advertised.
"Do you see something that you like?" Honeysuckle asked with a smile. She was not embarrassed, nor should she be. It was funny to hear that the seductive question she posed had lasted centuries, but the f-word had faded from use.
"Yes," I replied, making no attempt to alter my gaze. She wasn't being modest. Why should I? "Two things, actually."
Honey giggled, then walked past me without another word. Her room was the one closest to the rear of the ship on the left hallway, opposite of Cinnamon's. I deduced that they were stationed farthest from the control room due to their jobs.
Cinnamon explained the night before that she was in charge of cargo management on the ship. I remembered that she mentioned studying that field at her home station, claiming that it was the easiest way to land a job on a freighter. Her work required organization skills, of course, but not much heavy lifting. A robotic loader was included with the ship. She could program it or operate the thing via remote control. The standard computer tablet that every crew member was provided could be used, or she could opt for the dedicated handheld unit that resembled a video game controller.
When I asked why we didn't use the loader unit to carry water for us she explained that it was forbidden by Sage to let the valuable piece of equipment leave the ship. The woman in charge was worried that it could be lost or damaged irreparably by the wildlife. Or by Cinnamon's carelessness. Apparently, the highest-ranking crew member lacked fondness for my two young friends. And the feeling was clearly mutual.
After Honey's sexy slim form disappeared through the doorway of her quarters, I heard a thump on the top of the ship. Then the sound of heavy footsteps for a few seconds. Then nothing. I was surprised that the petite green girl wasn't as shocked by it as me. Or, maybe she was naked and didn't want to open the door again until she was dressed. I decided not to wait. There apparently was no reason for alarm.
I returned the basin to my room then went into the galley. The movement I heard there turned out to be Vanilla operating the food processors. She invited me to take a seat, informing me that the other two girls would join us soon. As I watched her shapely body move from behind, I sang one of my perverted altered songs in my head:
Nobody has to know, you saw me blow my load,
Nobody has to see, the things you did to me,
You made me get hard, because of your hot bod,
It wasn't from the stream, that boner was all me.
I was about to sing the verse over again with an even bigger smile when Honeysuckle walked in the entrance from her side of the ship. Her brilliant white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, revealing more of the soft light-green skin on her neck and shoulders. I was usually a big fan of long hair flowing free like Vanilla's. But somehow the additional skin exposure on my sweet-smelling friend made her even more alluring.
Returning my smile, she asked, "What are you so happy about?"
I couldn't tell her about my songs. Not anytime soon anyway. That could be risky even after we become closer friends. Instead, I said, "I'm just happy to be here."
The slender young woman slid into the seat across from me, replying, "You like being stuck on a strange uninhabited planet?"
"I'm enjoying getting to know the three of you," I answered. "The security and comfort of this ship is a huge upgrade from sleeping out there."
"Cinnamon told us that she saw you sleeping in a dragon tree," Honey said with a grin. "That is hilarious. What were you thinking?"
"I didn't know that the trees were just for dragons. That reminds me, I heard thumping on the top of the ship earlier. Was that...?"
"Yep," Honey replied. "Dragons. They land on the ship all the time. Sometimes they have fights up there."
"I think our spacecraft destroyed some of their homes," Vanilla informed me without turning around. "They have every right to be angry."
"Hopefully," Cinnamon spoke from behind me. I hadn't heard her walk up so she caught me off guard. It was the first time that I had seen her barefoot. Her toenails matched her fingernails, which were currently violet, but slowly getting darker. She took the seat to my left. Her scent filled my nostrils with an aroma that was becoming as comfortable to me as her friend's.
"Hopefully," Cinnamon continued. "They didn't take their anger out on Coffee and Strawberry."
"Or Sage," Vanilla added, turning to sit two trays on the table. She pushed the first one to me and the other to the girl across the table. Cinnamon looked confused that I was being served first. Vanilla must have had the mentality that I was an honored guest among them.
As the gentleman that I always hoped to be, I slid my tray to the girl beside me instead. Vanilla didn't seem too shocked when she turned around with two more trays. I waited until all three of them began eating before raising my fork.
"I don't know," Honeysuckle said after her first bite of brown string meat. It was shaped like a sausage but had no variance in color. The clumps that appeared to be eggs were smooth and a consistent yellow as well. "I think we could do without Sage."
"Honey!" Cinnamon feigned her disapproval.
"That's not very nice," Vanilla told them. "Sage is one of us. You shouldn't talk about her like that."
"If we lose Sage," Honeysuckle told the doctor. "Then you'll be in charge permanently. That would be a win for everyone I think."
"Except Sage," I whispered, reaping snickering giggles from the two girls. It was worth the questionable look that I received from Vanilla. Making jokes while keeping on the good side of all three of them could be a challenge. With the doctor in charge, I should avoid alienating her. I apologized.
"You haven't met Sage, yet," Vanilla said sternly. "She can be a bit bossy."
"Yes, she can," Honeysuckle mumbled.
Vanilla ignored her and continued. "After the captain and the pilot, she is next highest in rank. It is our duty to follow her orders. Down deep, she has our best interest in mind."
"Does the ship belong to a company?" I asked.
"Yes," Vanilla answered. "But that company was owned by Captain King. He had two other ships, but I don't know where they are currently located."
"Who will take over the company? One of the other captains?"
"No," Cinnamon replied. "With King dead they'll probably commandeer their own vessels and keep all the money for themselves. The three employees back at the office on Zeus Station Sirius will be out of a job unless we go back. Interstellar law is difficult to enforce among merchant ships."
"She's right about that," Vanilla responded.
"So, Sage becomes the owner of this ship?" I asked.
"I'm not sure that the Arketa Koreta will ever make it off this planet," the doctor replied. "When we are rescued, we might all be looking for new jobs."
"So, a rescue is coming then?" I asked. I wondered what it would be like to live in the distant future. Would I be so old school that I'd never learn to fit in? Or, would I be the cool guy that lived in the past, always telling unbelievable stories. Maybe, I would be detained, questioned, poked and prodded.
The three of them glanced between themselves. There was a considerable amount of uncertainty on that subject. Then they proceed to explain the situation to me.
The Arketa Koreta did not send off a distress signal until crashing. The ship was flying close to the surface to maximize the effectiveness of their sensors. Ore, wildlife and plants found here could have value on the market. It was their first time in this star system. The planet was charted as uninhabitable and of no trade value by a large commercial entity. They knew from experience that the classification may have been a cover up to keep the find to themselves.
The chance of one of the other two ships owned by King coming to their rescue was practically nill. The signal may or may not have transmitted beyond this planet's peculiar atmosphere. The ships sensors were not able to pick up on anything until they were within two hundred feet of the surface. That indicated that there was an interference generated by the planet itself, or its atmosphere, that could have trapped the distress call. Even if it did make it into space, most people would ignore it in fear that it was a trap.
Dirty Girls Page 10
