I raise a hand, recoiling as she sprays our surroundings with spit and snot. "This is your plan?"
"Yes," Alice sneezes. "You tell them I'm sick." Sneeze. "I have some sort of human pathogen." Sneeze. She pauses and sprays herself again. "And they can't open the airlock or else they'll contaminate their ship."
"That's keffing brilliant," I murmur, taking the spray back from her when she holds it out. I pause, douse her again, and then hide it. "You think you can keep this up?"
Between sneezes, she nods. She looks utterly miserable, her eyes swelling and her nose bright red at the tip. She's leaking all over her face now—eyes, nose, mouth. Ugh.
Just in time, too. Our escape pod settles gently on the floor of the cargo bay and the enemy ship hails us. "Come out with your weapons down."
I look over at Alice, who sneezes again. There's a look of fear in her watery eyes, even as she gives me a pleading look. Begging me to answer them. Begging me to fix this so we can escape.
I move to the control panel and tap into the comms. "I'm afraid we can't do that. Our pod is contaminated. My human cargo is diseased."
Alice gives me a quiet thumbs up and then sneezes a wealth of phlegm into the air. Ugh. Even the recyclers are going to have a hell of a time with that.
6
ALICE
I don't know which is worse—the constant sneezing I've subjected myself to or the realization that Kaspar wants to jump out of our pod and knock around heads. This alien has obviously never heard the term “knife at a gun fight” if he thinks punching people is the answer to our problem. I cling to his belt as I sneeze and choke for breath, partially so I can try and stop him if he heads out the door. I don't have to be a space pirate to know we're fucked if he gets out.
Through the small, square window of our pod, I can see several people standing on the dock of the other ship, whispering to one another. I count heads—at least six, all of them big, bruiser-looking aliens except for one scraggly-haired man with an eyepatch. They stare up at our pod uneasily, and I rub my nose, inciting another round of sneezes.
One finally steps forward and speaks loudly enough for us to hear, a large space gun cradled in his arms. "Open the pod."
Kaspar puts his hand on the communication panel again, speaking. "I just told you guys. She's sick with some sort of human contagion. If we open the doors, your entire ship's infected. Why do you think we were jettisoned from our old ship?"
Ooh, that's a good one. I tug on his flicking tail approvingly, but Kaspar turns and gives me an alarmed look when I do. Okay, tail tugging is apparently bad. I release it and take a step back, giving another wet, miserable cough.
"How do we know you're not lying?" the alien with the gun asks. He doesn't look confident, though.
Kaspar makes an indignant sound. He slaps the comm panel again. "Look at her!" And before I can ask how that's going to happen, he hauls me up under the arms like I'm a freaking toddler and presses my face to the window. The movement makes me sneeze again, and I do my best to look miserable and snotty. Kaspar sets me down again and hits the comm one more time. "She's a keffing mess."
"How come you're not sick?" the alien retorts, but he's not moving closer to our pod.
Kaspar's answer is quick. "It takes time for it to start showing symptoms in mesakkah, but I've definitely been exposed. The med-bay on our ship couldn't treat me, either. It's a foreign pathogen it's never run into before." He shakes his head. "You don't want any part of this, trust me."
They continue to wait, watching us. I cough helpfully as much as I can, knowing that we're being scrutinized. Through the small window, I watch as another alien stalks forward, this one…female? I think. From a distance it's hard to tell but there's a ponytail and lots of glittery jewelry and a feminine swing to her hips that makes me think it's a woman. She scowls up at us and talks to one of her men.
Then she takes a step forward. "Bring the human to the window again."
Kaspar helpfully grabs me and shoves me against the glass one more time. I struggle against him, but it only smears my face—and all the tears and snot—on the window. The female blanches, an expression of disgust on her lean face.
She takes a step back, clearly thinking things over. "How long has the female been sick?"
Kaspar responds, leaning over the panel. "A little over a week."
"And you show no signs of sickness?"