Just then, a powerful fan cut on and the fume hood began to spin blue smoke around in a giant funnel. The faster the fan spun, the tighter the spiral of smoke. Soon a pair of arms became visible, and then an upper torso. Finally, the spinning smoke traveled up the body and past the neck. It almost appeared that the fan had enough suction to pull the person’s head off. With one last loud suction noise, the smoke was sucked out of the hood, leaving the head still attached to the body.
To their surprise, the person reappearing was Connie. She was hacking out the blue smoke, and tears were rolling down her cheeks.
“What happened to you, Connie?” said Libby. “Did you catch on fire?”
“No, child, I was conducting a breathing experiment,” said Connie with a cough.
“Well, it doesn’t look like it worked,” said Libby.
“A scientist must always experiment. Sometimes you are successful and sometimes you are not. Never give in to failure, my dear Libby.”
Looking around to make sure no one else was in earshot, Connie said, “Now, little one, I have tested this plant many times before and continue to blend it to make it a suitable medicinal aid. After all, now that Earth is gone, we will have to make our own remedies. So if you see me standing under the hood in blue smoke, know that I am making medicine for the crew.”
“Will the medicine always make you cough?” asked Libby.
“Only new, stronger strains will,” said Connie.
“Do Dozer and I need medicine?”
“No, honey. When you get old enough you will. Then come to me and I’ll give you some. Until then, this medicine will be our little secret. We don’t want the crew getting scared about getting sick.”
“Good thinking, Commander,” said Libby in a serious tone.
“The medicine is already helping me think better. Follow me.”
Walking over to a polished table, Connie attached the half-dissected pig fetus on the med board. Taking a scalpel, she made an incision from the corner of the mouth through the cheek. She then made the exact same cut on the other side of its face. It made the pig look like it had a smile that went from ear to ear. Placing the bone saw blade into the incision’s opening, Connie switched the saw on, and immediately the saw’s teeth devoured the bone. The exact same cut was made on the opposing side. The last and final incision cut through the floor of the mouth all the way around, freeing the mandible from the skull.
Connie placed the mandible in a vise and anchored the jaw. She then removed lower molar forceps from a drawer. The idea was to squeeze the handles together and have the root be forced up and out of the socket. It took Connie several tries, but finally she extracted the pig tooth. She used a high-speed handpiece with a microthin cutting disc to section the tooth. Placing the cut molar segments on a clear glass slide, she slid them into the gene sequencer.
While she’d been smoking pot, she remembered that in decomposed bodies, the only intact DNA to be extracted was found in molars. Connie had high hopes that she had solved the DNA dilemma.
Reprogramming the sequencer, she turned and said, “What did you kids come down here for anyway?”
“The captain told us to get our RFID chips implanted and freeze all our eggs,” said Libby.
“Go through those doors and Pickle will hook you right up.”
After Libby and Dozer left, Connie turned back to the computer model and tried to clone fallopian tubes for Pickle. She had already swabbed Pickle’s cheek for cells to clone. Connie felt a strong dose of anxiety around harvesting Pickle’s eggs. The balance of survival could hinge on having just a few more with greater cellular diversity.
Knowing she had several more hours of stress before the sequencers had a match, Connie lit up another joint under the fume hood. Soon her upper body disappeared in the blue haze.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Spuds was very excited. She had spoken to Captain Kriss in private about a matter very dear to her heart. In two weeks it would be Christmas. She knew that the crew was stressed, and that no one would remember the upcoming holiday. But she hadn’t forgotten.
As a little girl in rural Montana, she’d grown up in a large log home along the flowing waters of the Snake River. The home was modest but robustly built, with a homemade woodstove centered in the middle of the house and a long chimney that went up through the ceiling. They had flushing toilets and running hot water, all from gravity. The top of the stove was flat like a commercial kitchen grill, and it was here that her mother did most of her cooking. Her mother had been a wonderful cook, and Spuds still cooked from recipes passed down from her and her grandmother.
Wiping a tear from her eye and clearing her throat, she realized that was all gone, nothing but a memory. Despite her sadness, Spuds was determined to make this the best Christmas ever. She was going to try and surprise the crew. She had already discussed it with Merc, and they were going to section off half of the Great Hall and make it look like it was under renovation. Behind that plastic barrier she planned to make a winter wonderland. With a determined look, she waddled down the hall towards the garden.
*
Already in the garden, Spice deftly used the bee tool to break the frames free from the wax. Then she pried up one end of a frame and lifted it out of the super, the name given to the clear boxes that were stacked one on top of another as the hive filled with brood and honey. This particular frame was full of honey sealed in a comb; it was like liquid gold for the crew.
She gently brushed the bees off of the frame and then did the same to every frame that was ready to be removed, replacing each with one that had already had the honey harvested. She carefully brushed the bees off of her clothing, trying not to squish any. On Earth, beekeepers used smokers to move the bees off of the frames, but that wasn’t possible in space; any smoke on board would set off emergency fire protocol. The inside of the ship was a labyrinth of wiring, and an electrical fire was a constant threat.
“Commander, Commander!” yelled Spuds.
Turning, Spice observed Spuds walking at a fast pace towards her. Spuds was out of breath and sweating profusely. Suddenly, without warning, she let out a devil-like scream and ran around Spice in circles. She had her eyes shut and was running blind; with all of her cooking smells and spilt condiments on her apron, she smelled like a giant human flower. The bees were on her in an instant.
Spice was paralyzed in the moment and didn’t know what to do. She was amazed at just how fast the short, round woman could be.
“I’m allergic to bees!” Spuds wailed. “Help me!”
Inadvertently, Spuds helped herself, running straight into the moon pond. It swallowed her up like a sea lion eating a fish.
“I can’t see! I can’t see! They blinded me!” yelled Spuds.
“Open your eyes,” said Spice, humor in her voice.
“Oh, that’s better,” lisped Spuds. Already her lower lip, which had been stung, was twice its normal size. “Ouch, I just got stung again!”
“No, that was just me,” said Spice as she removed the disposable EpiPen needle from Spuds’s shoulder. She always carried them with her when she worked with the bees. “You actually look very beautiful with your full lips. You look like a movie star.”
Spuds tried to smile, but it was painful. Pushing her hair out of her face, Spuds began to talk about the food available for the Christmas banquet. It was obvious by her excitement that her near-death experience was already forgotten.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Pickle was sweating. She had been working nonstop for the last hour injecting RFID chips between the thumb and index finger of everyone on board. It stung, but was like getting your ears pierced; it hurt but was tolerable. The line of crew was stretched out of Med Bay into the hall. The cocking of the spring-loaded syringe and the snap of its release always ended with a grunt or groan from the patient, followed by a sterile swa
b swipe and Pickle saying, “Next!” Then the crew member would go to another Med Bay staffer who recorded a bio of each woman’s cycle. Their temperatures were taken, and a new drug synthesized by Connie, called Ovasynk-1, or O-1 for short, was injected. In twenty-eight days, every woman on board would ovulate, and their eggs would then be harvested.
Libby and Dozer came into Pickle’s view. “What are you two here for?” she asked.
“We heard the captain say we had to come see you. She spoke out of the box on the wall,” said Libby. “Also, Connie just sent us here.”
“What was the chief science officer doing?” asked Pickle.
“I think she was working on a new medicine or something,” said Libby, then remembered her promise. “I’m not sure, but Connie seemed frustrated about something, sir.”
Must be the DNA problem, thought Pickle as she reached for Dozer and placed the RFID chip with a snap between his shoulder blades. The giant cat didn’t even flinch, but instead remained calm and watched Libby guardedly as the same thing was done to her. But before Pickle could squeeze the trigger and release the chip, the cat was on her. He bit Pickle in the meaty part of her thumb with his four long canines.
With a squeal, Pickle dropped the gun and struggled to get her hand free. But Dozer would not open his mouth. He shook his head back and forth like he’d caught a salmon, which set his teeth deeper into Pickle’s hand and made her scream out loud. Everyone in line stood in shocked silence.
“Dozer, let go!” yelled Libby. Again, she yelled at him. “Dozer, let go!”
Finally, her shrieking voice penetrated his instincts and he realized the attempted assault was over. Releasing the hand, he stood between Libby and Pickle and backed up, pushing Libby further out of danger. Pickle put pressure on the oozing puncture wounds. They weren’t life-threatening, but they were painful. She wasn’t sure if she felt terrified by the attack or a little jealous—jealous that the cat loved Libby so much that he would defend her at all costs.
“Well, I guess we won’t be chipping you today, little one,” said Pickle. “It seems your cat doesn’t want you chipped. It’s ok, honey. I think I startled him. Come back later with your mother and we’ll try again.”
“Dozer goes wherever I go,” said Libby. “I’m sorry he bit you, but he thought you were hurting me. Dozer is my best friend.”
As if on cue, the cat began licking Libby’s face. The crew couldn’t take it any longer. Their laughter broke the tension of the moment, and soon, even Pickle was smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sophi was proud of her work, and held it in both hands, examining it in detail. The holster was soft and flexible and nonchaffing to her skin, but rigid enough to support the weight of the bolt gun. Instead of a hip holster, she had opted for a thigh-mounted one. She felt this option would allow the user more freedom of movement, and would allow a waist belt to carry other items of equal importance.
She was trying to think ahead. It would be terrible if she came up with a design that slowed the draw of the weapon and cost her crewmates their lives.
“Let’s have a look,” said Merc, taking the holster out of Sophi’s hands. “Nice job, I’m impressed. Listen, the captain called and wants you to supervise the sizing and distribution of the radiation suits and helmets in your section. If you need any help, give me a buzz. I’ll work on the shoulder holster idea and try to match your quality. Also, see the captain for me and tell her that the bolt guns are completed. If Med Bay has implanted the RFID chips, we can activate them and have live-fire training for all the crew.”
“Yes, sir,” said Sophi with a sharp salute.
*
It was getting late in the day, so the crew began heading towards their quarters for showers and sleep. It was easy to get confused about whether it was morning or night on board, as there was no rising and setting of the sun. To counter this, the captain had a strict protocol. Everyone got up at 0600 to exercise in the gym and get artificial sunlight from the vitamin D lamps. Breakfast was served at 0730, and then everyone did their job till 1200, followed by lunch at 1230. This was followed by work till 1700, with an hour cooldown period, followed by supper at 1800. The crew had free time till 2030, with mandatory lights-out at 2100.
The captain ran a tight ship. “Routine, routine,” she would always say to Smitty. “It’s discipline and order that keeps the ship running like a clock.” The darkness of deep space wasn’t going to smother the crew’s hopes or feelings of safety if the captain could help it. Granted, the ship wasn’t Earth, but it was in a way, now that Earth was gone. It was like the old story of the ark in the Bible. The ark had saved mankind then, and the ship would save them now.
As she slowly drifted off to sleep on the Roost, Kriss realized that she was the new leader of the human race. If there was a God, she hoped he had made Alpha-64 habitable.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The room was filled with smoke that stung your eyes. But no one even noticed; all eyes were focused on the stage. The music, which had been pulsating through the speakers like a giant human heart, had gone still. Everyone went silent as the lights dimmed, and the heavy black curtains opened.
The room was filled to capacity with women, and their mouths were wet with expectation. Alcohol was banned on Earth, but the intoxicant that filled this room was natural and manmade. It came from the desire buried deep in each woman’s crotch.
The room went completely dark, and a murmur of anticipation rippled like a babbling brook. As if by magic, a white mask floated onto the stage. It was in the shape of the upper third of a human face, showing the contour of the nose, cheeks, and forehead, but the eyes were missing, leaving behind black holes of mystery. The mask would appear and disappear at will like a haunted spirit. Then a pair of white gloves materialized and began to dance. The speakers awakened, and a slow primal beat pulsated from them.
The hunger of the women could be smelled as every pore of their skin released its stored pheromones. The beat quickened in tempo, and a thick white shaft appeared mid-torso beneath the magic mask and hands. The room erupted like a female volcano. It was deafening. The vibration of the deep bass shook the tables and chairs and could be felt between their legs.
Brooke was with her best friend and their posse celebrating a bachelorette party. They had known each other since they were little girls, and when her friend had finally decided to tie the knot, Brooke knew a party was in store.
The male dancer straddled Brooke’s leg and leaned down as if he were going to put her breast in his mouth, but instead he put his nose gently between her breasts and let the tip of his tongue glide up between them to her throat. She could feel his erect dick bulging through the silk black G-string thong that he wore; his hips were gyrating up the inseam of her jeans towards her pussy. Then he would tease her and go back down her leg in the same manner.
She no longer was aware of anyone or anything; her entire focus was on the almost naked man mounting her leg. His three-day-old stubbled face grazed her cheek as his tongue found her earlobe. He gently put her diamond stud into his mouth and tugged. His warm breath filtered through Brooke’s hair and her nipples became erect with excitement. She started moving her pelvis to the movement of his dick; it inched closer but never got where she wanted it. The experienced male dancer was educated in his art, which was to get the woman as close as possible to what she desired without actually giving it to her. The more slick you were at this seduction, the more money you had at the end of the night.
It was obvious to Brooke that this man was very good with his hips. Reaching up, she grabbed the back of his head by his short, curly hair and pulled his mouth to hers. She knew that her pussy must be dripping wet, but her jeans were stretched tight and she couldn’t tell.
Just then, she felt a finger slide into her pussy. Her blue eyes opened wide with shock. She was looking into Leea’s face, only an inch aw
ay.
Leea had gone to the bathroom and was heading back to her own bunk when she’d heard a moan coming from Brooke’s quarters. The door had been partly open, and what she saw instantly turned her on. Brooke was lying facedown, naked in her bunk. Her sheet and blanket were pushed to the side, as was the pillow. Because of weightlessness, no mattresses were needed; instead, a webbed, cargo-like net was used, stretched tight like a hammock with a soft strap across the shins and another below the sternum to keep the person from floating away.
The depression of her spine running down her back and the crack of her ass was covered by a shadow, as if a painter had brushed the shadow into a painting. Her face was turned towards Leea, but was pressed down into the webbing. Leea couldn’t tell if the gym section commander was awake or asleep.
Stepping softly into the room, Leea continued her advance until she was at the edge of the space bunk. She squatted down to admire the view. Brooke’s naked body was lightly illuminated by a bunk nightlight mounted on the wall. Both breasts were protruding through the webbing, which made a checkerboard pattern over her face and stomach. Her legs were slightly apart, and the webbing made a square over the opening to her vagina. It was tantalizing for Leea to think about what she could put in there to fill the space.
A low, deep, dreamy moan of pleasure came from Brooke’s mouth. Leea pulled her shirt off and then her sleeping pants one leg at a time. She squatted down and pulled her nude body under Brooke’s. Leea hung there in space and watched the sleeping commander. Slowly, she put her right hand into her crotch and began to play with her own clit; it was already wet. She then rubbed her right breast with her left hand and played with her nipple.
As Brooke moaned, Leea got more excited. Taking the wet, slippery precum from her pussy, she tasted it; she loved the taste of her own. It was warm, with a slight sweet taste. She rubbed a little under her nose; her pussy had a horny cum smell to it. With her own smell in her nose, she imagined what Brooke smelled like, and the thought made her moan softly, though not loud enough to wake Brooke. Leea began to finger herself and stuck her tongue out, pretending she was eating Brooke’s cunt.
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