Bodies of Light by Lisabet Sarai Page B

alarm wailed in the long-short-short pattern that meant emergency. The mess hall was mostly dark, but a red beacon flashed in the corner. Christine sniffed the air. It smelt stale and she thought she detected a hint of smoke.
    She swung herself off of the table, noting that every muscle ached. The room was empty. Where were Alyn and Zed?
    “Report ship’s status,” she called, loud enough to be heard above the alarm. There was no answer. Then she remembered. She’d switched off the computer’s voice functions.  
    She clambered up to the bridge. There was no sign of her lovers. The viewport was still open, offering an unchanging view of star-strewn space. Heedless of her nakedness, Christine punched in the code to reactivate the ship’s communication capabilities.
    “Report ship’s status,” she demanded, her voice shrill with anxiety.
    “Serious hull breach in section B-7,” the computer replied, calm and mechanical as always. “Bulkheads have been sealed to slow atmospheric loss.”
    “Oh shit,” Christine muttered.
      “Electrical fire in port engine now extinguished. Engine shut down to avoid radiation leakage. Major fracture detected in tail structure…”
    “What? What happened? Did something hit us?”
    “No collision detected.” The ship paused for a second or two, as if to allow her to interrupt again. “Estimate that tail section will separate in one to three hours. Additional fractures detected in sections C-2, C-5 and D-4. Recommend immediate evacuation.”
    Christine sank into the pilot’s seat, overwhelmed. Evacuation? To where? The ship had an escape shuttle, but it was intended for use in the vicinity of a planet, not in deep space.
      What was she going to do? And what had happened to Alyn and Zed?
    As if summoned by her desperate thoughts, the aliens appeared on the control deck, Alyn to the left of her, Zed to the right. She rushed into Alyn’s embrace. He stroked her hair, holding her tight. After a moment of self-indulgent surrender, she pushed him away.
    “What’s going on? Where were you?” she demanded.
    “Checking the damage from the outside,” said Zed.
    “But why…? Did something happen while—while we were making love?”
    Alyn shook his head, his face grave. “No—not then…” He seemed too upset to continue.
    “Then when? Please, tell me!”
    “Our best guess is that this is a delayed effect,” Zed answered, stumbling over his words. “The stresses of the initial collision—when we emerged at the same space-time coordinates as your ship and then your ship was whisked through hyperspace—as I said before, I was surprised there had been so little damage…”
    He looked thoroughly unhappy. Sympathy and concern drowned Christine’s anger. She took him in her arms, planting soft kisses on his lips and brow. “Oh, Zed! You couldn’t help it.”
    Alyn came up behind her, pressing his lean form into her back and sandwiching her between them. “We are responsible nevertheless,” he murmured. Christine noticed that, for once, he was not erect.
    “Oh, my darlings…” She clung to them, feeling safe even though she knew, intellectually, that her life was ticking away. The warmth of their skin against hers, the firmness of their muscles, their earthy scent—it was sweet, regardless of what came after. She would have been glad to have them take her, there on the floor of the bridge. She wanted to spend her last hours joined with the men she loved.
    It was clear, though, that sex was the last thing on their minds. Finally, she released them. They sat in a triangle, gazing at each other in silence.
    A thud shook the bridge. “What was that?” Christine cried.
    “Microwave antenna three has separated from the ship,” the computer intoned. Sure enough, they could see a hunk of debris tumbling off into space to the left of the ship. “New breach in hull at section F-2. Bulkhead sealed.”
    Alyn rose from his seat. “We don’t have long, Christine. We’ve