Page 62 of Mutant Mine

I can’t quite face up to what passing the pink nebula again could mean. The thought is too huge and scary — like I'm teetering on the edge of a giant pit, trying not to fall in.

I’ve already given himso muchof myself. The memories make me burn with shame and remembered pleasure: Roth kissing me, touching me, making me fall apart. How I’ve lain down for him so willingly, and cried out loud. Even tonight, in all my new uncertainty, I couldn’t resist spreading my legs for him.

And it’s not just my body. I’ve told him about my childhood, my dreams — things I’ve always kept so secret and special. I trusted him.

If he turns out to be responsible for what happened on this ship, and the deaths of my colleagues, then what am I?

A traitor. I’m sleeping with the enemy.

Well… not sleeping with. Not technically. Maybe that should have been my first clue. In bed, he’s been holding something back; I’m always reaching for him, and he’s always pulling away.

Roth has never once tried to fuck me. He’s not even taken all his clothes off in front of me since we got together. He didn’t seem to care if I saw him naked when I was just a guard gathering his laundry — but now that I’m in his bed, he’s like a blushing maiden in a chastity belt. He won’t even let me touch his cock through his clothes — always steering my hand away, and distracting me with his fingers or his mouth. The most I’ve ever felt is his naked body sneaking back into bed in the dark, while I’m half asleep. Like now.

Even before I saw the nebula, that was beginning to make me feel neurotic. Roth is the first person I’ve ever been intimate with. I thought I must be doing something wrong.Is he not turned on by me? He gets hard, but… maybe he’d rather jack off than let me touch him. I assume that’s what he’s doing when he dashes off to the bathroom after he makes me come, while I’m still catching my breath.

Maybe the fantasy of me is better than the reality? Or maybe he just likes to hold me down and make me squirm — maybe that’s what he gets a kick out of. My vulnerability. My humiliation.

No. That can’t be true, can it? He makes me feel so… I’m not ready to put a word on it, but I feel something for Roth that I’ve never experienced before. Desire, yes — I want him. So badly. All the time. But there’s also a level of comfort and ease between us. The way we can eat together, curl up to sleep together, talk and laugh... Ifthatall turns out to be a lie, it may break me altogether.

Tears burn in my eyes, and I choke them back. I can’t stand it anymore. Everything is so tangled up in my head! I miss Roth, even though he’s right here. I miss the man I thought he was a few hours ago. I want to wake him up and tell him that I’m scared, so he can comfort me — but the thing that scares me is him.

As slowly as I can, I ease my way out from under Roth’s arm, and get out of bed. He shifts, grumbling, and I freeze. But he soon settles back down to sleep. I can’t decide whether I’m relieved or disappointed that he hasn’t woken up to stop me.

I find my clothes in the dark, pull them on, then tiptoe across the room. I open the door to the flight deck.

For a moment, I stand in the doorway. I look back at Roth, sleeping in our bed, just visible in the dim light flowing through from the flight deck.

When I go, the door shuts behind me without a sound.

* **

THE FLIGHT DECKis an interesting place. I can see why Roth likes to retreat in here, away from the noise and violence of the prisoners — away even from me.

I’ve only been in here once before. Roth was with me then, so I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings. The tension between us was so electric that I could barely drag my eyes away from him — and after he kissed me, I wasn’t aware of anything else.

Now, it’s quiet. The viewing window is filled with a sea of distant, twinkling stars — the closest ones blurring as we soar through space, traveling at astonishing speeds in astonishing silence.

The tiny status lights all over the instrument panels shine and wink, too, like a mirror image of the sky. It’s peaceful. Purposeful. Everything in this room knows what it’s meant to do, and is doing it well.

So… whatisit doing? What is this machinery up to? What task is it ticking away at, minute by minute, day by day, while all the living beings sleepwalk around the ship?

Well. Most of us are sleepwalking. One of us may be awake.

I don’t understand any of this equipment. I’m not the most technologically capable person at the best of times, and this is top secret, uber technical government stuff. How does anyone remember their way around this many buttons and levers? I don’t want to touch even the smallest switch, not knowing what it will do — dreading that the lights will go off again, or the engines will shudder to a halt.

I waste some time pacing around, peering at incomprehensible displays and hovering my hand over dials without being quite brave enough to touch. Then it occurs to me: this machine cantalk. I can just ask it what it’s doing.

“Computer,” I say. “Are you in here?”

“OF COURSE,” comes the genderless, people-pleasing voice. “WHILE YOU ARE ON BOARD THE HADES, I AM EVERYWHERE!”

Okay, cool, not creepy. “Could you please tell me where we’re going?”

“I CAN SHOW YOU.”

A three-dimensional image appears, projected onto the viewing window. It’s a star chart. There are various dots and shapes to represent the stars, planets, and other major bodies around us in space, and one single dot that flashes red. That must be the Hades.

A dotted line emerges from the red dot. It goes forward through space for some distance, then turns back on itself. It loops round in an elongated circular shape, and finally joins back up with the red dot from behind.

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