Baby, it's Cold in Space: Eight Science Fiction Romances

by Margo Bond Collins

  He never treated me like his daughter after that.

  That is, until he met Jessica and his coldness melted away.

  I owe Houston and his mother for bringing my father back to me, even if our relationship is strained. It’s still better than it has been since I was twelve.

  I’m snapped out of my memories when the console in front of me fires to life. The depleted solar power stores fire up and I have .001% charge. That is far more than it has had since my mother’s death.

  “He did it,” I whisper, touching the panel. “He repaired it.”

  The automobile mechanic from Earth with no experience on spaceships or extraterrestrial travel repaired what my mother couldn’t. I’m crying now. Crying because of what this means.

  The panel ticks up to .002% charge.

  “Houston, you did it!” I exclaim, hoping that Sli’vier has enough sense to switch the channel to public. “The solar panels are fixed!”

  At first there’s no answer, and I’m annoyed that the AI hasn’t opened the channel. Then I hear from him, “It’s…a…Christmas miracle…” He’s wheezing, his voice strained with exertion. Even when he’s not speaking, I can hear how labored his breathing is.

  He has put too much strain on his heart.

  “Houston, get back in here! That’s an order, soldier!” I shout.

  No answer.

  “Sli’vier, where is he?”

  “Heading back to the airlock now, Soldier Kear’yl.”

  “What is the status of his heart?”

  “Prognosis is, he is having angina and tachycardia, with a heartbeat of 189 bpm.”

  I curse under my breath. Why do humans only have one heart?

  “Houston,” I say, praying to the cosmos that he’ll hear me. “Houston, I’ll meet you there. Just hang on.”

  I start moving, grasping the walls for balance. I’m nearing the edges of my own consciousness. The only thing keeping one foot in front of the other is the knowledge that if I pass out, he’ll most likely die.

  “Sli’vier, synthesize medication to treat high blood pressure, chest pain, and lowering heart rate.” I have a first aid synthesizer on board, it would have everything—

  “Power is too low to synthesize medication.”

  “What?”

  “All power reserves are directed at maintaining the ship’s environment and position in space. To divert any would be catastrophic.”

  “Sh’vieth.” I seem to be cursing more on this trip than any other voyage I’ve been on. The floor tilts dangerously, and I stop, heaving heavy breaths. “Is there anything else I can do to help his heart?”

  “Cardioversion can be achieved through an electric shock through the heart.”

  I hesitate. “Defibrillation?”

  If there’s too much of a shock, I’ll kill him just as though I hadn’t done anything. Yet, at this point, I have nothing to lose. My hands start shaking. Plus, I don’t trust my own hands to be able to handle holding anything with an electric charge.

  But if that’s my only option…

  “What voltage?” I ask, dreading what I’ll have to do.

  “300-volts in less than 1/1000 of a second,” Sli’vier replies.

  I blink at the numbers. It’s such a small amount of electricity that could potentially keep him alive. Really, it’s barely enough to power the lights in the passageway for a few moments. Humans are such fragile beings. With one heart, their small bodies, and their strange sense of humor, it’s amazing that they’ve lasted this long. And if Houston dies…

  “Passenger Eastwood is in the airlock, Soldier Kear’yl. Outer hatch sealed.”

  I set my jaw. “I’m there now.”

  I reach the metal doors, but panic seizes me as I don’t see him in there. I slam my hand against the panel, then remember that it’s all manual with the ship’s systems mostly down. I manually override the airtight seal on the door and then grunt as I pry it open. Blue blood drips onto the floor. I must look terrible with my head wound being untreated.

  First, take care of Houston.

  When I finally get the airlock open, I cry out at seeing him on the floor, the Vzekian-sized spacesuit engulfing him. He’s not moving.

  I kneel beside him and tug off the helmet, hoping against hope that he’s all right. His beautiful face is pallid and still. In my panic, I don’t remember where to look for a pulse on him, but I operate on the assumption that he’s still alive. I unzip the top of the space suit, exposing his bare chest which I know is where his heart is supposed to be.

  “Stay alive,” I whisper to him. “Please, stay alive. Sli’vier, I’m sorry to do this.”

  I don’t wait for her to answer. I reach towards the wall, my fingers finding the edges of a panel and I pull it off. The metal cuts the pads of my healing fingers, but I only notice with passing disinterest. I’m not worried about my fingers right now.

  I’m worried about Houston.

  True to what I’d been hoping for, there are wires in the wall here. Electrical wires. I grab a few and yank them out, giving me enough slack to reach his chest. I tear one wire apart, the electricity arcing between the exposed wires.

  “Kear’yl, those were for the airlock doors—”

  “I’ll fix it later, Sli’vier. For now, divert 300 volts of electricity to these two wires and when I say go, give it power for 1/1000 of a second,” I say, remembering the defibrillation directions Sli’vier gave me.

  That’s asking my AI system a lot, but I just have to hope that she’s sophisticated enough to handle it.

  I think it is, and I hold my breath, waiting for her to respond.

  She says, “That will—”

  “I just need them for a minute, please,” I beg, wanting something to go right on this forsaken trip. For Houston.

  My vision continues to tunnel. I blink furiously to push away the blackness. Just stay awake for a few more minutes. Just a few…

  “Done,” Sli’vier says.

  I hope that Sli’vier is correct in her allotment of voltage for this task.

  I touch them to Houston’s chest.

  “NOW!”

  The jolt of electricity shoots into him, causing his entire body to spasm. He gasps—in pain, but there is an indication that he is alive—and his eyes flutter open. The two places where I touched him on the chest are burned and will probably hurt him for weeks.

  But he’s alive.

  He fills his lungs with precious air as his eyes focus on me.

  “Kear’yl?” he asks, his voice weak.

  I can’t hold onto consciousness any longer, but I smile at him as exhaustion hits me. “Merry fucking Charis-must.”

  I pass out, collapsing onto the cold metal next to him.

  Chapter Eight

  I WAKE UP WITH SOMEONE WRAPPED AROUND ME. It’s…nice…warm… And makes me feel things that I shouldn’t as my twin hearts beat together faster than they should.

  I blink a few times in the darkness, taking stock of my situation.

  I’m in my quarters and the red emergency lights are still on, meaning that there have not been any further repairs—but I’m breathing air, so life support is functional.

  And Houston is in my bunk with me, his body flush against mine as he spoons me. He’s a lot shorter than me, but he’s propped up on some pillows, and I feel his breath on the back of my neck.

  Nice, slow, easy breathing.

  He’s alive.

  As if on cue, I feel his arms tighten around me as he stirs out of sleep himself.

  “Morning,” he whispers.

  “We’re in space,” I tell him. “Therefore, the sun does not rise or set.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says with disinterest.

  His lips are at the base of my neck, sending shivers all throughout my body. This must be what kissing is like when it’s not on the mouth. I want his lips all over my body, so I can discover what it does to my body then.

  But, first thing’s first.

  I twist in his arms
to look at him, sending a throb to my aching head. There’s a flicker of disappointment in his face, as if he wanted to keep kissing me like that.

  “What happened?” I ask. “Are you all right.”

  His wonderful mouth curves up into a smile. “You saved my life, Kear’yl.”

  I look down—his chest is bare, and I can see the burn marks where the electrical wires shocked him. I gently brush my fingers against the skin and he hisses in pain.

  “Not without hurting you,” I assess.

  He takes my hand in his and kisses the back of it. “It got my heart in working order again, didn’t it?”

  “You promised me that you wouldn’t die,” I tell him, the accusation in my voice.

  His face falls. “Well, I tried keeping my promise. But some things are worth putting my life on the line.”

  “What things?”

  “You, dummy.”

  I frown in irritation at being called dimwitted, and he laughs, combing a hand through that glorious hair of his. I gingerly reach up and touch my own head and feel the bandages wrapped around my skull.

  “You did this?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” He smooths back the bandage and his fingers graze past my headtentacles, giving me a heady, aching feeling throughout my body. “You passed out, bleeding all over the place. I thought you died,” he added quietly, before his mask of bravado slips back into place. He points towards the ceiling. “Sli’vier had to talk me through how to put you back together.”

  “Among other things,” my AI system chimes in. “Passenger Eastwood needed to provide his own medical attention after administering it to you.”

  Houston rolls his eyes in answer.

  “Sli’vier, what is our position?” I ask.

  “We are currently en route to Spaceport Bravo XXI-G for repairs,” she says. “Solar power is at 65%, meaning that we can use our boosters to get there without diverting power from other systems. Boosters are currently at 215% efficiency.”

  I close my eyes and sigh in relief. “So we’ll make it to Fl’steri in time for Christmas.” My father and Jessica will be pleased at least.

  “Estimated time of arrival is the twenty-fourth,” Sli’vier says. “If repairs go as expected.”

  “Just in time for Christmas,” Houston adds.

  I sigh in disappointment. “I promised your mother I would get you there on the twenty-first on your Earthian calendar.”

  He cups my chin and I sigh into it. “I’m sure she’ll understand,” he says softly.

  “There were issues that were unavoidable,” Sli’vier adds helpfully.

  “Hey, Sli, can you give us some privacy?” Houston asks. “Kear’yl and I have some things to discuss.” He seems satisfied when the AI system doesn’t respond. He gives me another cocky smile as he looks back at me. “She sure chatted a lot while I was trying to make sure that both of us wouldn’t die. We did reach an understanding.”

  “What was the understanding?”

  “That I should be your permanent mechanic on this ship,” he says. “After all, I can perform miracles.” He winks. “I have her recommendation should you need to look at my resume.”

  I blink. “No. No, absolutely not. Not with your heart condition.”

  He catches my hand and puts it over his chest where I can feel his heart beating, “Kear’yl, I’m fine. With the solar power cell filling back up, Sli’vier showed me how I could synthesize some medication to make sure that my heart is healthy for as long as I’m on this ship.” He tilts my chin towards him so I can look directly into his eyes. “My heart belongs to you, after all. It has since our parents married.”

  And his kisses me, on the mouth this time, as his hands thread through my headtentacles. Why I ever thought kissing me on the nape of my neck was amazing, I’ll never know, because this is even better. I moan against his lips and I feel his lips smile against mine.

  “I wish I could have you kiss me all the time,” I whisper to him. My hearts feel like they are pounding in my throat.

  “That’s exactly why I want to be your mechanic,” he tells me. “Or…possibly something more.”

  “Such as?”

  “Well, more than your stepbrother.”

  “Don’t call yourself that ever again,” I tell him. “My zn’Eppa was someone who I hated.”

  “Do you hate me now, Kear’yl?”

  I look up at him, at those bright blue eyes watching me for my answer. “No,” I whisper. “I can’t imagine why I ever did.”

  He kisses me again, this time with more fervor, more passion. I follow suit and kiss him back with the same intensity. I press my body against him, feeling the firmness of his chest, his stomach, and a slender hard length between us.

  Suddenly, kissing doesn’t feel like it’s enough for me.

  “Kear’yl,” Houston breathes, his voice ragged. “Do you trust me enough to show you something?”

  I open my eyes and look at him. “What?”

  I feel the rumble of laughter in his chest before it bursts from him. “I never had to have this conversation with a girl before,” he says. I see that he’s embarrassed, and I don’t know why.

  “What conversation?”

  He hesitates before answering. “How humans…copulate. Uhm, mate. Have sex.” He lets out a shuddering breath. “Make love.”

  “Oh.” I freeze in his arms, wondering if I heard him correctly. Copulation in the Vzekian culture is something that isn’t meant to be taken lightly. Sure, my people have sex for pleasure, but it’s a deeper connection, a bond that is harder to break than steel.

  And he wants to share that bond with me. As more than a stepbrother and stepsister. Something more.

  “What about your heart?” I ask.

  He smiles smugly. “I told you, I’m on even better medicine now.”

  That’s right. So, the only thing that’s keeping us from mating is my permission. Then what am I waiting for?

  “Yes.”

  The lone word comes out breathless. Because I’m shivering with both anticipation and terror. I’ve never done anything like it before, and now I want to do it with Houston. More than anything else I’ve ever wanted. “Please show me.”

  He smiles lazily, happily, and goes in for the kiss, filling my mouth with his tongue. I moan against him, as his hips move up to meet mine. My body is alight, on fire with desire.

  I want him. So badly.

  Sh’vieth.

  “I need to take your clothes off, Kear’yl,” he whispers as his fingers work to unzip my jumpsuit. “I promise to be gentle.”

  “Look at how your previous promise turned out. You nearly died.”

  “Yes,” he says. “It got a little rough and bumpy at some points, but I’m still here. And it may still get a little rough and bumpy, but I will stick to my word. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  He finishes unzipping my jumpsuit and peels back the layers of clothing, exposing my naked body to the cold air. He pulls his own pants off, revealing a large, cylindrical piece of anatomy that I recognize right away. My breath hitches at the sight of it fully erect.

  He smiles gently at me. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he sighs as he trails his fingers along the silhouette of my bare body. I shiver at the feel of his touch.

  “You said since our parents got married,” I say.

  He nods. “But you didn’t want me,” he whispers. His voice is sad, broken. “You were this fiery creature that wanted to change the universe. But you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t be, Kear’yl. This trip to Fl’steri has been a shit storm from the beginning, but I wouldn’t have changed a thing about it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell your mother about your heart condition?” I ask. Even though I already know the answer.

  His expression is wistful. “Because I knew that she wouldn’t have let me go. And I wouldn’t have been able to spend any time with
you. When that was the only Christmas present that I wanted. You.”

  With that, his mouth covers one of my breasts and I cry out in pleasure. His hands play with my headtentacles, sending waves of ecstasy throughout my body. Combined with the feel of his naked body against mine, I’m riding a wave of sensations that I didn’t know existed.

  “Lay on your back, Kear’yl,” he whispers. The cocky smile is back. “I’ll take this nice and slow. At least this time,” he adds darkly.

  I oblige, laying on my back. He spreads my legs apart, and I know instinctively what he’s going to do with his male member. He kisses me on the mouth as he slides in, slowly, achingly so. I moan into his mouth as I feel myself stretching around him.

  I feel whole, complete. Like I found a part of me that I didn’t know was missing.

  “God, you feel so good,” he whispers. “You can tell me to stop at any time.”

  With that, his hips move, thrusting himself into me again. And again. And again. I pant at the movement, with the feel of him inside me as he moves. I surrender myself completely to him, the first time that I’ve ever given someone else control of my body like this. He creates a rhythm with our bodies, our three hearts pounding in time with each other as my headtentacles wrap around us.

  All I can do is hold onto him as I ride the waves of pleasure filling me. And when I cry out, I wrap myself up with him, and he does the same, shouting my name.

  I remember reading in the romance novels of Earth that women felt like their bodies were singing after sex.

  Mine was.

  Propped up on his elbows, he looks down at me with a lazy grin. “Do I get the job?” he asks. “Do I get to stay with you and we can travel the universe together?”

  My hearts are beating frantically as I look at him. The sarcasm bubbles up inside me and I giggle. “So this was a job interview?”

  He quirks an eyebrow. “I think I did pretty well with it.”

  I nod then. “Yes. Yes, I want you here with me.”

  His smile is just as bright as the solar flare that knocked out our systems originally. “Good,” he whispers. “I want you here with me, too.”

  “Soldier Kear’yl,” Sli’vier Biel says, breaking into our conversation. Houston sighs at the interruption and rolls off me.