I look around in alarm. Our “closet” of a pod consists of two bunks lining the walls and the lavatory. "There are belts? Where? How is it I'm just now learning this?"
Kaspar makes a sound of exasperation. "You didn't need them before now? Don't panic. Sit." When I thump down onto my bunk, he gestures at the wall. "In the marked spot."
"There's a marked spot?"
He taps a pale yellow design on the wall that I thought was just decoration. Oh. I sit stiffly in front of it, and Kaspar reaches over me to depress a button of some kind. I squeeze my eyes shut because the way he's looming over me, his dick is practically in my face. I wrinkle my nose, screwing my face up a little so I won't be tempted to look. Nope. I will be the bigger man here.
Except…nope, nope, not gonna think it.
I bite back a yelp of surprise as belts slither over my chest and the panels behind my back and under my butt shift and turn into something squishy. It's suddenly like I'm strapped onto a plate of jello. New belts slither around my arms, locking them at my side, and I give Kaspar an alarmed look.
"It's just making sure you're crash safe," he reassures me as he takes his seat across from me. A strap slithers across my forehead, securing my head to the jello. Yeah. That's alarming. I watch as the same scenario happens for him, straps appearing everywhere even as his chair turns into a wobbly pile of goo.
He gives me a confident smile and a wink that looks far too human.
"Please secure all valuables for atmospheric breach," the pod reminds us again. "Hospitable planet found. Please secure all valuables for atmospheric breach. Please secure…"
Over and over the damn thing repeats itself in that too-sweet, annoying voice. We remain locked in place in our seats, waiting. Kaspar stares at me. I stare back at him. His mouth curves into another smile and for a moment, this feels like when I fell out of the bathroom, naked, to find that he was jerking off.
I refuse to look at his dick to see if he's hard. Instead, blushing, I squeeze my eyes shut again.
11
KASPAR
I hate landings. Especially in a pod, where you don't have the control over your ship. Kef, in a pod, you don't have control over anything at all. As we punch through the atmosphere, I'm grateful for the straps holding us against the plas-gel pads. The entire pod shakes and shivers as if it's about to fall apart, and we're careening toward the ground at such a high speed my limbs are pinned in place. Alice's whimper is drowned out by a low whistling sound that fills the pod—
And then darkness.
I wake up a short time later, my head throbbing and my lungs tight. Hot panic flares through me. I can't breathe. I can't draw in a deep breath. I can't—I can't—
I need my data pad. I need to see the readings. I need to see if my artificial lungs are about to give out or if it's all in my head. Frantic, I tear at the damned belt releases. I'm upside down in the pod, which means we've landed, but I don't care. Right now, all I need is my keffing data pad. I gasp for air, slam a hand on the release, and crash to the floor.
Everything hurts. My head throbs harder, but I can't worry about that now, not when I can't draw a deep breath. I struggle to my feet, running my hands overhead along the pod's storage compartments, until I find the one with my data pad. It falls into my hand. The screen is cracked from our landing, but when I activate it, the readings for my lungs pop up.
All systems optimal.
I suck down a lungful of air, and then another. Hot relief courses through me, and I fight the urge to collapse. I'm all right. I'm not going to choke to death on my own saliva. I'm not going to asphyxiate because my lungs aren't working properly. I close my eyes and clutch the fractured pad against my chest, just enjoying the sensation of being able to breathe again.
It was all in my head.
I breathe deep once more, just because I can, and then look around the pod for Alice. She's no longer in her straps, which means she must have gotten up and left the pod—and me—behind. That's a foolish move, even for one like me. She should have at least waited for me to check things out first. It might not be safe to go gallivanting off. We need to strip the pod for any supplies we can carry first. Frustrated, I pick up the plas-film blanket that's fallen to the floor—