Little had been seen of Jackie and Brian. With the help of Kyle and Tony, they’d moved his stand-alone sleeping berth into one of the less-crowded upper deck compartments. Brian had become increasingly self-conscious about his appearance—his total lack of mobility. Basically, Jackie had become his full-time on-call nurse, and for that Cuddy gave her all due credit—never hearing her complain, not even once.
Cuddy, currently seated in the rear of the bridge, where he’d set up a makeshift desk of sorts, had three separate query terminals positioned for easy access into the AI’s extensive memory banks. He found it easier to write things down using pencil and paper. Bob had spent a significant amount of time providing him with a close facsimile of paper, and then a pencil—now stacks of notes were strewn all around the top of the desk.
Cuddy’s thoughts, as they inevitably did, turned to Jackie. He did his best to bury his feelings—envious of the increasing amount of time Jackie spent alone with Brian. So when he heard her voice behind him, he was pleasantly surprised.
Jackie entered the bridge, looking rumpled and tired, then plunked down hard in the seat next to him, and stared over at the Viewscape display. “Bob, how much time do we have left… before the Howsh reach us?” she asked.
“Less than one hour, Jackie.”
Cuddy watched her expression. She looked irritated and began to chew on the inside of her cheek. Something he knew she did when she was overly frustrated.
“You doing okay?” Cuddy asked.
She didn’t look at him, at first. Didn’t say anything, either. Cuddy shifted in his seat, not really knowing what to say next. Did I do something wrong?
Jackie glanced over to the AI orb and asked, “Bob… can you give us a little privacy? I need to speak with Cuddy alone.”
“Of course. I will take care of some maintenance issues in Engineering.”
“Oh, and close the bridge hatch as you go,” she added.
Cuddy wasn’t aware the bridge even had a closable hatch, but on hearing it slide closed, he realized it did.
“What did I do? Or forget to do? Go ahead and yell at me, Jackie. I’ve been so immersed here on the bridge…”
“Yell at you? What for?” she asked.
“I don’t know… you don’t look… all that happy.”
“So I don’t look happy, uh… I wonder why? I mean, according to AI Bob, we’ve probably got less than an hour to live. And let’s pile on a little more shit. I’ve been playing nursemaid to an ungrateful, misogynistic ass for five days, and the one person I need attention from… is too daft to notice.”
It was as if Cuddy had been shocked with a cattle prod. This was uncharted territory for him. No amount of information downloaded from the orb could prepare him for this conversation. “Well, I thought you and Brian were… still close. I heard you kissing in the hold, and…” he let his words hang.
Jackie closed her eyes and shook her head. “No, he kissed me, I didn’t kiss him back. I’d just told him that he and I were over. That I didn’t love him anymore… that maybe I never did.”
Jackie leaned forward in her seat, her knees lightly touching his. Then, resting her hands on his upper thighs, Jackie stared into his eyes. “It took me a while to get over who you were before… and who you have become. You were a boy. Now you’re not. Now you’re a man, in every sense of the word. I see the way you look at me, Cuddy. I know you want me… in the ways a man wants a woman.”
Cuddy began to squirm and looked off toward the Viewscape display as if distracted.
The corners of her lips turned up. With surprising agility, she scooted off her chair and onto Cuddy’s lap. Then her voice, a mere whisper, murmured, “I know this is all new to you, Cuddy. Just relax… I won’t bite.”
He looked at her, now up so close, and saw things he’d never noticed before: The dusting of freckles on her upper nose—a tiny mole on her left cheek—how perfectly straight her teeth were. Without rushing, she took his face in her hands and looked at him. Then she kissed him—gently. Her lips were soft and wet and tasted salty. Both their eyes remained open as their kissing became more passionate. He noticed her cheeks had flushed and could feel her breath quickening. She turned her kisses onto his neck and, as her lips brushed lightly against his ear, she whispered, “I’ve wanted this for such a long time, Cuddy.”
Then Cuddy felt her take his hand in hers and guide it into the fabric of her unbuttoned shirt. She cupped his hand into hers then guided it over her left breast. He felt her hard nipple tickle the inside of his palm, which she then gently squeezed. “Yes… gently… just like that.” They kissed harder now—probing—exploring each other’s mouths with their tongues. He was hard, under the fabric of his jeans, sitting beneath her. He felt Jackie pressing down onto him. Their rapid breaths escalated—now in perfect sync.
In the background, Cuddy heard a repeating chime—one that progressively got louder and louder. Then, just as quickly as she’d slipped onto his lap, Jackie was off, moving away. As the bridge hatch slid open, he heard her let out a long breathy sigh and laugh, saying, “Oh boy, oh boy…” Then she was gone.
The AI orb, now hovering in view, moved to the forward console. “The Howsh fleet has significantly increased speed. They will intersect with the Evermore within ten minutes.”
“That’s not possible! How did it go from an hour to only ten minutes?”
The orb did not answer.
Cuddy glanced over to the stacks of paper atop the desk and tried to recall all he’d learned over the course of five days; the many hours of practice he and Bob had endured. Are we ready? Then wondered, is Bob ready?
“Bob… can you open a communication channel to the commander of the approaching Howsh fleet?”
“Yes, I can open a channel, although it will be up to them whether they want to answer the hail or not.”
“Remember, Bob, you cannot sound like a… an AI. You need to sound like an old Howsh supreme commander…”
Sub-Forgue Molth paced the circular raised dais while keeping his eyes on the elevated screen. To him, there was no clear indication the Evermore was even out there, but the four bridge crewmen assigned to tactical assured him that indeed it was.
What he was now viewing was nothing more than a miniscule scattering of spatial artifacts that didn’t look like much of anything. Molth was a nervous Howsh officer, told numerous times that he came across as trying too hard to please his superiors. Was too needy. But considering the fact that two previous first officers to Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh had been demoted for incompetence, Molth was determined to make a far more positive, long-lasting impression.
He vigorously scratched the growth between his eyes then noticed it had started to bleed again. He casually glanced around the command center, checking to see if anyone had noticed him wiping his claws over the dark trousers of his uniform.
“Sub-Forgue Molth, there is an incoming hail coming from the Evermore, sir.”
“Who is it?”
“It is not that foul Pashier, the one called Tow. He says he is Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph, and he is ordering us to stand down.”
“Preposterous!” Suddenly nervous, Molth raised a claw to scratch his face again, but caught himself, and lowered his arm back down. Could that even be possible? he pondered. Lorgue Supreme Eminence Calph, a Howsh legend, was reportedly lost in space some ten years earlier. Molth was fairly certain that Calph was Lorgue Prime Eminence Norsh’s mentor. A hero—numerous monuments, on their home world, had been erected in Calph’s honor. How could this possibly be?