SOMA (LGBT-scifi-romance)

Chapter Seven: Queen to Pawn

Sector 06: Cita Avis

Jan. 16, 462 AC

Soma woke. Briefly, he thought he still dreamed because everything was warm and clean. He lay in the cargo bay of a ship, across a plain, soft cot. Engines hummed around him. The air smelled of mint and something sharp. The bay was lit by warm strips of yellow. The ship spun lazily.

Half a dozen containment cells lined the cargo bay, glass gleaming. Three of them held strangers with cataract-ridden eyes and cavity-black teeth, with skin falling off them in sheets. One, hidden at the back, was mostly obscured. Mrs. S occupied a fifth cell, snarling weakly with the sack still over her head. Soma lay on his side in a corner, under a dish-shaped window. A black strap dug into his waist, securing him to the cot. His right arm tingled, pleasantly numb and bound at his side with bandages. His red coat was folded at the edge of the cot, next to his pack.

Panic set in. He was inside the black ship.

Gasping, he curled up as far as the strap would allow and fumbled at the buckle. The latch beeped smugly, but didn't open. He cursed, then writhed in the restraints. Idiot, he berated himself. Maybe he could blame his stupidity on possible concussion—Mrs. S had kicked him pretty hard. He'd seen the juvenile sky fish, so why hadn't he been on the lookout?

The sky fish—covered with shining scales in peacock splendours—nosed up to him, sphincters attaching to the side of his neck. It suckled gently and made contented popping noises deep in its throat. Slime slicked down Soma's temple.

Soma squawked. His eyes squeezed shut and his useless right arm flailed.

He heard a laugh. "Leave the hero alone, guppy." The sky fish obediently withdrew from Soma and curled above a fire canister on the wall. Its glowing fins bunched up.

Across the cargo bay were the two humans. Both had removed their oxygen masks and stripped off their fitted thermal suits, revealing a pale knee-length dress and a tapered white tee.

The young woman looked a few years older than Soma, with dainty features and eyes that took up a quarter of her face—too luminous and large to be natural. Everything about her was pale, from her silver hair to translucent skin that showed the shadows of her blue veins. She still seemed familiar, but Soma didn't know how. "You're awake," she said sweetly, leaning in and fluttering her white lashes. "Sorry about the rough handling. Pretty boy there can be a bit forceful."

The second human lounged against the wall, long limbs splayed. He rolled his eyes. "Not that you'll ever know, Lady."

Lady turned her shining eyes back to Soma. "I have a few questions."

Soma pinched his lips tightly shut, and closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see this... this parody of Leanne interrogate him.

"Don't be afraid," Lady coaxed. "See, papa just acquired this colony, so I'm looking to locate some stolen property that might've been smuggled here... oh... must've been twelve years ago." Her long manicured fingertips tapped along the frame of the cot. She was so close Soma could smell the soft accord of daisies and citrus in her hair. "Do you know anything? What we're looking for would've been small. Cute. Lab-grown."

Did Soma say he wasn't scared of humans? He lied. He was terrified. Beautiful though this human was, her smile never touched her eyes. There was steel and broken glass in her—something that made Soma dizzy and sent his pulse galloping. Sweat coated his palms.

"If this was a normal commodity, I wouldn't press," Lady said. "But this was a weapon." She put a hand to her pink lips. "I can't imagine the harm it could cause in the wrong hands."