A Small Moon
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Science Fiction,
Desc: Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Jack Adams is a planetary computer specialist sent to a prison planet to solve a strange problem, but along the way his spaceship has some mechanical issues. He ends up being stranded on a moon in the middle of nowhere with no hope of rescue. He tries to make the best of his situation.
It was late afternoon as Jack Adams watched through the rain streaked window of a taxi as the spaceport came into view. It was a sprawling gray concrete structure stained darker by the rain with a smattering of trees and bushes parked around it. The building matched his mood perfectly. Bleak. Ugly.
Ships of all sizes zoomed up from the terminals and down from the clouds following laser guides, leaving streaks of white contrails in their wake.
The man driving the taxi leaned his head back and grunted to get Jack's attention. "Eh, what's your terminal?"
The taxi driver nodded, "Eh, you going to Pelargan or Dorcen? Me, I'm from Dorcen. Nice little place." The face in the rear view mirror was friendly, smiling.
"I'm going to Pelargan."
The driver shrugged. "Eh? Well, I hear it's not so bad there, either. Just don't loose all your money in the red light district." He waggled his eyes and grinned, showing his teeth.
The driver laughed. "So am I, brother, so am I."
Jack turned to look out the window again. The taxi drove into the terminal gates which sped past the window in a wet blur, then braked to a halt. The driver announced, "Here we are, sir. That'll be seventy-two credits even."
"Thanks," Jack said, and transferred eighty credits to the driver then opened the door and stepped out into the rain.
The driver jumped out, dancing through the puddles and heaved Jack's bag down from the trunk. "Eh, thanks for the tip. Have a nice trip!"
Jack nodded and splashed his way into the building.
The building had a high ceiling that reflected back the sound of voices and shoes as they tapped against the marbled floor causing a sound almost like static, or like the burbling of a waterfall. The ticket counters were busy with a crowd of damp, cranky people. Jack moved to the back of a line and waited behind a tired looking mother with three little children.
The room was warm. Almost too warm. He felt the rain that had soaked his hair begin to trickle down the back of his neck, and he wished that he was home, or somewhere else. Pretty much anywhere else.
"Maybe I'm just tired", he thought. "Maybe I'm just always tired. Maybe I'm depressed."
He pulled his flight ticket out of his pocked. Pelargan. Next to the destination name were the health board stamps showing that he was current in his vaccinations, and under them was a box for the reason of the visit. He had written in, "business."
The Pelargan system has two occupied planets large enough to need planetary computers to function and run correctly. Pelargan 2 was having a problem routing system resources correctly and as a result it was occasionally shutting itself down for an hour or so to reorganize. This meant that essentially the whole planet shut down for that time, during which all hell would break loose. This was especially bad because Pelargan 2 had been converted into a penitentiary back a few years ago when the Greens were still in power over the council. The prisoners were getting exceedingly uppity and the prison staff were threatening to all walk off the job. There was no red light district on Pelargan 2, just the prison. The redlight district and other civilization would be found on Pelargan 1.
When it was his turn at the front of the line, Jack stepped up to the counter and handed the girl his ticket. She had brown hair, short and curly. Like his wife's hair. Her lips were lush, painted red with a hint of glitter.
She smiled a smile that never met her eyes and said, "Well, Mr. Adams, would you like us to take your bag and have it stowed for you.?"
"Please." He heaved his bag onto the conveyor belt where she tagged it and then handed him his boarding card.
"I hope you have a nice flight."
He boarded the ship and made his way to sleeper cabin 13A where he flopped down onto his bunk with a sigh. He closed his eyes, and then jerked them open again when his jaw communicator buzzed in his ear.
He tapped his right jaw just below his ear to answer. "Hello?"
"Hi." It was his wife, her voice sounded small like she had been crying.
There was silence for a moment and then she said, "Are you on the ship yet?"
"Yes," he said, unconsciously nodding his head. "I just boarded."
"Oh," she said.
"I won't be gone long, love. I'll be back before you even realize I'm gone."
"Yeah." she said, her voice cracking. "And then you'll be gone again before I realize you've even gotten home."
Jack sighed, not knowing what to say.
"I know, I know," she said. "You don't have a choice because this is your job. Well maybe you should find a new job, Jack. I'm tired of always waiting for you to come home and then dreading the fact that you'll be off again, gone for days. I'm just really tired of it."
"Yeah," said Jack.
The silence between them lengthened.
His wife's tone changed then, becoming angry, hurt. "Well, I better let you go. I'm sure you're busy."
"Ok," he whispered.
He sighed, then leaned back on the bunk staring at the ceiling. Trapped. He was trapped. The pressure built inside him, the frustration eating up his insides until finally he jumped up and paced back and forth in his small cabin growling out "Damn ... Damn ... Damn."
When his anger had built to a crescendo he shouted out, "Fuck!" and punched the metal wall, causing pain to bloom in his hand.
One of his knuckles was skinned slightly, stinging. A small drop of blood formed and leaked down onto his finger. He put his hand into is mouth, sucking in the coppery tang of his blood, and then he sank back down onto the bed, tears streaming down his face and closed his eyes.
"Nothing I can do," he whispered.
"Nothing I can do."
The lights in his cabin automatically dimmed when they sensed that he was asleep.
The ship rocked slightly and bumped as it left its moorings. There was a soft chime and the lights flared back to normal brightness.
Jack squinted and groaned.
A soft female voice announced from a speaker over his door, "All passengers please prepare for takeoff."
The ship rattled slightly and the floor hummed. There was a brief feeling of falling and then the speaker popped and the voice was back. "Thank you for flying Dorcen Spacelines we hope your stay with us will be comfortable. We will have a twenty seven hour flight to Dorcen with a brief layover and then it will be another six hours to Pelargan. Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes in the commons. If you have any special requests for your comfort, please see the steward at the hospitality desk in the commons. Again, thank you."
Jack didn't want to meet any people. Didn't want to spend thirty-three endless hours talking about knitting with Shaperean wool or what amusement park the family went to over the Freedom Day holiday.
He walked to the corner and pulled his bag down from the metal baggage rack and zipped it open. He fished around for a minute till he found a small wooden box with a tree carved on the front. It was his recorder. He opened it and fitted the wooden pieces together and softly blew a stream of air into the mouthpiece.
The note wavered with his breath, tremulous and weak. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew in a breath, feeling the shape of the air filling him and then he let it out and with it the poison of anger, disappointment, and frustration. Then he drew air into his lungs again and blew into the recorder, causing a sweet, low note to resonate through the room. He nodded his head and then began to play, his notes long and soulful, matching his mood.
He played until his stomach growled at him, demanding to be fed. He took the recorder apart again and packed it into its box, then pushed open his door and went in search of food.
When he reached the commons, it was empty and the lights were dimmed. A clock on the wall showed that there were twenty-four more hours to go before reaching Dorcen.
He transferred a few credits into a machine and pulled out a turkey sandwich wrapped in rice plastic. He unwrapped it and slipped himself down into a booth and took a bite. It tasted surprisingly good, with lots of pepper. While he chewed, the clock changed slowly to say that there were now only twenty-three more hours till the ship would reach Dorcen.
A woman dressed in the white uniform of the cleaning staff entered, smiling at him and nodding when he waved. She bustled around for a few minutes, wiping tables and straightening chairs, humming as she worked. She looked like she was middle aged, with a slightly worn, but kind face. When she got to his booth, she held out her hand and asked, "Would you like me to take your wrapper?"
Jack nodded, "Thanks."
She smiled then went on to the next table.
After a moment of watching her, Jack asked, "Do you live at Dorcen?"
She was scrubbing a table when she answered, "No sir, I live on Earth."
"Do you have a family?" Jack asked.
"Yes sir, two daughters. Both are grown now."
"Is it hard leaving them? Hard being gone all the time?"
She stopped scrubbing her table and sat down on a chair before answering.
"Well," she said, "when they were younger it was hard, but there's only me now that they've gone off to college and other things. I'm never gone for that long anyway. It works out alright, and it's better than sitting alone at home."
Jack nodded, then asked, "No husband?"
She smiled and said, "Not for years. You're not offering, are you?"
Jack smiled, then laughed and held up his left hand with his wedding ring. "Sorry, already married."
The woman's eyes looked sad then. "You're gone and she's left at home wishing you weren't gone."
"Well, sir, all I can say is that one of you will end up breaking. Either you will, or she will, and then nothing will ever be the same."
Jack sighed, then nodded.