Imposition

by Juniper Gray

  He watched the screen news for a minute while Gen dressed again.

  “You seen the news about Carbera?” Gen asked him.

  “Yeah,” he said after a while. “Navy fleets are arriving there already—most of the really nasty shit is going to happen now.” He turned back to look at Gen, who was now thankfully re-dressed. “Anyone arriving late to the party is going to get tasked with clean-up duty.”

  “Us, you mean?” Gen clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, heading for the door.

  Therse wanted to tell Gen the truth about his reassignment—the truth that meant from the moment they landed at Gogh Planetary Hub, he and Gen wouldn't be serving together any more. That from then on, he'd be leaving Gen behind. But it was just too difficult. “...Right,” he said, swallowing it all back down again.

  On the way out of Gen's quarters, Therse remembered something he'd been meaning to ask. “So where's this biohab anyway? You haven't shown me yet.”

  “No, I haven't, have I?” Gen replied, smirking and backing away.

  Therse raised an eyebrow at him, then realized what he was planning. “Don't you fucking dare.”

  Gen skipped backwards a little. “If you want to see it, you're going to have to keep up.” He turned and ran for the transporter module, about a hundred meters down the corridor.

  “Fucking bastard, there's no way you'll lose me!” Therse yelled after him, feeling the grin he'd had earlier in the games sim return.

  As they pelted down the empty hall, Therse had the uneasy realization that Gen was promptly pulling away from him and accelerating. When he reached the module, slamming the button to call it with a victorious fist, Therse was still at least twenty-five meters away. Gen waved at him and disappeared into the wall. Therse forced his legs to go faster against their ample protest, not wanting to miss his ride.

  As he rounded on the module, the doors were already shutting. From inside he heard a distant “See ya.”

  He slipped in just in time, catching his elbow on one of the doors as he flew through and slamming straight into Gen on the other side, pinning him to the wall of the transport. Their faces close, bodies up against one-another. The vague understanding he was between Gen's thighs in an awkward orientation. The vague realization they were groin-to-groin and exchanging heat.

  He shoved off the wall quickly as though it had never happened at all and rubbed at his bashed elbow. “Damn it,” he said, not entirely to the pain shooting through his arm.

  “How the fuck are you so slow after all that training?”

  “I run long distance, idiot. Of course you could still beat me on a surprise sprint.”

  “Of course,” Gen repeated, in that goading tone. Therse ignored him. “And you should really be able to tell the difference between closed and open doors by now.”

  “Shut up.”

  But Gen was too busy staring out over Therse's shoulder. Therse noticed the difference in heat as warmth and thick, humid air washed into the module. “We're here,” Gen said, shoving past.

  It was like no habitat Therse had ever seen before. It was vast, extending up and out further than he could see in the haze of humidity. He reckoned it must be at least a kilometer tall, and if what Gen had said before was to be taken on face value, it took up three entire floors.

  Therse stood on the threshold and peered out. A jungle. A dense, overgrown jungle in the middle of a space ship.

  There was a path of sorts that led from the transporter module out into the thick of it, apparently made of real dirt. Come to think of it, the whole floor might be built on dirt. He frowned. This certainly made the ship an impressive type of hypocrite if it wouldn't allow even a little steam in his bathroom but would happily cultivate an entire environment of seventy-five percent (and up) humidity.

  The trees seemed tall around him even here, safe in the module. Stepping out there would be like stepping into another world. A world the likes of which they were both somewhat familiar with.

  Gen turned back and looked at him, still standing hesitantly on the doorstep. Gen sighed and walked back along the path, stepping over wandering fern leaves, boots crunching in the coarse earth.

  “I had no idea it would be like this. It's just like—” Therse started.

  “Don't tell me you're thinking about that. Look, just come on,” Gen told him, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him out of the safe little white cylinder. The doors closed silently behind him. “It's great, you'll see.”

  He followed Gen, trying his best to disguise his nervousness. The eerie quiet, the heat, the dark, towering trees tangled with vines—it all felt uncomfortably familiar.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm fine.”

  “It's just a jungle, you pansy,” Gen told him, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't land with much success. “Funny how I don't have any response like that at all,” Gen said almost apologetically, rubbing at his neck again. “Well, maybe because I was unconscious a lot of the time, eh?” He thumped Therse on the chest. “Really though, it's like a garden in here. Just ahead it gets a bit more civilized.”

  They walked down the path a little way, and the jungle opened out into a small clearing of perfectly flat ground backed by a polytunnel, both lush with various crops.

  A number of small machines hummed about, tending the garden, pruning and weeding and scanning the little plants with tiny precision instruments extending from their shells.

  Therse felt a little less claustrophobic here than out in the jungle.

  “You'd think this ship likes plants more than humans,” he muttered, watching the miniature mechanized ballet. He wandered over to the edge of the clearing, bordered by a small projected field, the purpose of which he presumed was to stop unwanted species getting into the garden. There was a rather exotic-looking tree growing just outside the border, its thick, gnarled trunk a twisted deep yellow, surrounded by dense variegated purple foliage. It was fruiting—large red ovals the size of Therse's fist hung temptingly just out of reach. He looked over at his friend. Gen was chuckling to himself and fastidiously blocking the path of one of the little machines as it tried politely to move around him, eventually letting out an exasperated sound and whizzing up over his head. He moved on to annoy another one, busy in the polytunnel.

  Therse turned back to the tree, to that succulent-looking fruit. He wondered what the flesh might be like under that dimpled skin, mouth watering as he reached for it, stretching on tip-toes and almost there —

  Gen grabbed his hand away. “I asked the ship when I was here before; they look really good but they aren't edible. The trees produce copious amounts of oxygen, which is why they're included in the habitat. Just don't eat anything that comes off them, because you'll get the shits.”

  “Right, thanks.” Therse said, smiling awkwardly.

  Gen grinned at him as though he'd suddenly thought of something good. “When was the

  last time you ate a strawberry?”

  “There are strawberries here?”

  “And blackberries and blueberries...come take a look. They're just ripening, by the looks of it.”

  Therse followed him into the polytunnel, an expansive covered set-up where plants grew in floor-containers or raised trays. It was all incredibly neat and well-ordered.

  There was a whole row of raised trays containing strawberry plants, laden with large, plump red fruits. Gen plucked one and tossed it to him. It was a little green at the top, but still looked so damn good. He bit into it and made a face like he was having a religious experience. “It would be such a crime if all of these went to waste,” he chewed. Gen put on a serious expression and nodded, shoving yet another one into his mouth.

  Therse grabbed a few up, followed by a few more, and went to have a closer look at the vegetables growing outside the polytunnel. Cabbages and lettuce he could easily identify, and some other things that were probably potatoes and carrots. He squatted down, strawberries cradled in one hand, and started to dig away the eart
h to see what the crop was like. He could hear Gen behind him, still chewing away.

  And then it started to rain.

  “What the fuck!” he heard Gen exclaim through a mouthful. “It's raining inside a ship?!”

  “It must be the sprinkler system!” Therse shouted above the din of the increasing deluge. The polytunnel wouldn't offer any refuge—its sprinklers were on too. They had no choice but to run for it.

  Therse pelted out of the clearing and along the path back to the transport chute, Gen close behind him. It opened immediately and they rushed inside, laughing and soaked to the skin.

  “Third, sector twelve,” Therse told it.

  Gen looked down at himself, holding out his arms. His hair was plastered to his face. “Well, that was unexpected.”

  Therse wrung his shirt out, watching the water pool in the transport module. Let the ship worry about that after turning the sprinklers on them. “No kidding,”

  And then Gen's arm was around Therse, pulling him in close, holding him. “See? Having fun isn't such a bad thing,” Gen said, heat slung over Therse's shoulders, lips so near to Therse's cheek he could feel the words on his skin.

  “I guess so,” Therse said, allowing himself to return Gen's friendly embrace momentarily, feeling the stiff, lithe muscle barely covered by the wet fabric of Gen's shirt. He wanted so badly to press in tighter.

  Gen pulled away smiling as the transport arrived at their floor, apparently thinking nothing of it.

  * * * *

  After returning to their respective quarters and drying off, they met up again in one of the ship's officers’ lounges. It was a small room with softer lighting than the rest of the vessel and furnished with items that made Therse feel comfortable just by looking at them.

  He and Gen were sitting cross-legged opposite one another at a long, heavy-looking black coffee table perched on a massive white deep-pile rug. It was so big that Therse could probably lie back and stretch his hands out and still not be able to find the edge of it. Its luxury made a nice change to the minimalism of everywhere else.

  He turned to look over his shoulder out of the two massive windows behind him, stretching from floor to ceiling. Except that they weren't really windows. None of the ‘windows’ on the ship were actual transparent portals looking out into space. Instead they were screens displaying a representation of whatever was outside the ship from that particular view. So for all intents and purposes, you got the same end result, but it wasn't quite...the same. Therse liked to imagine that they could be whizzing through a nebula, great towering pistons of dust surrounding them, birthing stars every direction you cared to look in, but the ship was keeping all the fun to itself and showing them a repeated recording of black nothingness for its own entertainment.

  Of course, to imagine the ship was conspiring to exclude them meant imagining the ship cared enough about them in the first place to do something so resentful, and he was pretty sure it didn't.

  He watched the unending dark sail past them with a protracted sigh.

  Something touched his knee and he looked down to find Gen's legs spread either side of him, the toes of his socked feet wriggling.

  “Excuse me,” Therse complained, flatly.

  “What?”

  “Fine. It's your own damn fault if I should accidentally crush your balls.” Therse pretended uncrossing his legs to do just that.

  “And spend the rest of your life apologizing to all the poor unfortunate women disappointed that they don't get to bear my children?”

  Therse snorted a laugh and took a sip of his drink. “You're insufferable.”

  “Do we have to play this?” Gen whined, and Therse noticed he still hadn't made a move on the chess board.

  “You wanted me to relax, remember?”

  Gen scratched his face, rough blond stubble starting to show through. “I meant like we were in the sim, not like this. This is dull.”

  “What, too cerebral for you? Can't cope if you have to use tactics rather than your instincts?”

  “Are you still sore that I beat you earlier?”

  “Just make a move already.” Therse glowered at him. Gen made his move, and Therse took his rook. “You're really bad at this.” Therse smirked up at Gen, his smile fading when he noticed the look on the other man's face.

  “Oh, am I?”

  Gen had positioned himself to make an attack, and Therse saw that he'd been drawn into a trap by feint. A clever move, he had to admit. Gen still had the capacity to surprise him. He straightened up, realizing he'd underestimated his adversary.

  The game went much faster after that, each watching the swift moves of the other as their hands flew back and forth over the board. Gen was far, far better at this than he'd been making out, and Therse was a little annoyed with himself that he'd fallen for it.

  They were getting down to it now, only a few pieces left on the board each, and he knew he'd have to start thinking aggressively in order to win.

  Then he saw it: a hole in Gen's attack strategy. He double-checked to make sure he wasn't falling for another feint.

  “Checkmate!” he announced, a little too enthusiastically.

  Gen was regarding him with a lop-sided smile. “You're weird.”

  “So people keep telling me. Another?”

  “Sure.”

  They each grabbed up their color and started to set the board out again.

  “Heard anything from Iss and Tennar recently?” Therse asked while they both placed their pieces.

  “The newlyweds. You're kidding, right? Expect to hear from them when they have a house full of babies in a suburban district.”

  “Ugh.”

  “I know, sickening, isn't it?”

  “I meant to ask, how was the wedding?”

  “Shame you couldn't be there.”

  “Not much I could do about it. Sucks to have been the only one from the academy not there, though. Your move first this time.”

  “It was great,” Gen said, moving a pawn. “Simple affair, just a couple of family and friends and the registrar. Pretty much everyone there was Navy though, it was funny. Like a mini-parade.” He paused. “They missed you there.”

  Therse moved his own pawn and looked up at Gen. “You know if I could have been there,

  I would've.”

  Gen held up his hands. “Eh, doesn't bother me, meant I got free reign of the assorted ladies.”

  “Which means you spent the night harassing young women who were still old enough to know better with your unwanted attentions, right?”

  “Something like that, yeah,” Gen grinned.

  “You had a good time then?”

  “Oh, you know it. There was this one brunette, legs up to her chin and chest out here...turned out she was Tennar's sister so I kept my hands off, but a guy can look, eh?” Gen made his move, letting his bishop free. “But I don't know, it sort of felt like the night was missing something.”

  He was looking right at Therse. Therse studied his pieces, trying to think of something to say. “Did Vice and Byrn finally, eh...”

  Gen snorted and leant back on his palms, feet still either side of Therse. “That fucking relationship slow-cooker—everyone knows they kissed at graduation; I don't know why they don't just do it already.”

  “Well, not everyone likes to go hell-for-leather at things the way you do. That's fine when all you want is a fuck, but if you want something more than that it's difficult to make the leap sometimes.”

  “I wouldn't know,” Gen replied, oblivious.

  “And then there's knowing you'll be apart on different details for so much of the time—she's intelligence, he's engineering, there's no way they'll get put on the same posting. So maybe they just think it's best to leave it as it is.”

  “They both like each other though, right? If that's true, it shouldn't matter where they are.”

  “It gets complicated though. I imagine.”

  “Well I know we've been lucky that we've always been posted to
gether, but the rest haven't, and we're still all in close contact. And I bet it'll still be just the same when we meet up at Gogh, even though it's been over two years.”

  “I can't even remember the last time we were all together.”

  Gen pursed his lips. “A reception to celebrate Mal's brother's engagement, if I recall correctly.”

  “Oh! That's right, the one with all the punch.”

  “Yes,” Gen grimaced, tipping his head back. “The one with all the punch.”

  “I'd never fished anyone out of a fountain before; that was a unique experience.”

  “Shut up. It's not my fault her parents are stupid-rich.”

  “No, but it was your fault that you drank too much, ingratiated yourself with the new bride-to-be, and vomited all over their shrubbery of prize argonias.”

  Gen groaned. “Oh god, why the hell do you always remember this shit?”

  “Why do you think I always stay within the realms of sobriety when I'm around you? It's because you need a minder to stop you doing the really stupid stuff. Well, I lie. It's partly that and partly because it means I get to store these things for posterity.” He tapped the side of his head and smirked.

  Gen looked less than impressed. “One day the tables will be turned, you'll see.”

  Therse wasn't convinced. “So have you decided what you're going to do when we're in port?” he asked.

  “I'm going to head to the shopping district first thing, buy some stuff that doesn't have ‘property of UGA Navy’ printed on it. And then I'm going to eat some proper fucking food and find the woman of my dreams for nights of unbridled passion before we head out to Carbera.”

  “And call your mom.”

  “And call my mom...” Gen smirked and shook his head. “I can't wait to get out there though, it's going to be great. Gravity of the situation aside, obviously.” He wafted a hand in front of his face. “For the first time in ages, we'll actually have proper missions.”

  Therse picked up a piece to move it, then put it back down again.