Chapter 9 Jean
Over the past several hours, I’ve learned a few things about this planet.
Mainly that it sucks.
I’m currently hunkered down inside the hollowed-out shell of a giant bug, taking shelter from the sandstorm that’s raging outside.
Actually, it was more like ashes than sand.
It came blowing in fast, like a dark gray blizzard, until I could barely see my own hand in front of my face.
It was pure chance that I ran across this bug shell, which is about the size of a small hut.
In fact, it may actually be someone’s hut. I’m not the only person who has used it for shelter, I can tell you that.
I know, because there’s a skeleton by the wall.
An alien skeleton.
I guess it should be obvious that it’s an alien skeleton, considering I’m on an alien planet.
Still, it was pretty disturbing to find.
I didn’t even see it at first, because of how dark it is inside this bug.
It was only after I’d been in here for several minutes and found the flashlight in my survival pack that I realized I had company.
I immediately ran outside in terror, but the ash storm drove me back inside again.
That and the fact that I’d left Gerber and all my survival gear inside.
Whoever the guy was, he wasn’t a Znthian. The proportions aren’t right, and the shape of the skull is all wrong. I’ve since dubbed him Al. Get it? Al the alien. But maybe he’s actually a she. Maybe I should be calling him Ally instead.
Yeah… I think I might be losing it.
Dehydration will do that to you. I’ve got a canteen of water in my survival pack, but I can’t drink it with my breathing mask on.
I need water though. The last thing I had to drink was my coffee back on the Scarlet Ship, and I already peed that out several hours ago.
I’m not sweating too much now, but I did a lot of sweating while I was walking.
Lost a lot of fluid. If I don’t drink something soon, I’m probably going to pass out.
Then die, shortly thereafter.
I’ve got a plan.
I grab the flashlight and flick it on. Gerber is still sitting right beside me, his back propped against the bug shell for support.
The metal of his partially exposed endoskeleton gleams in the light.
I’ve been hoping he might spontaneously reactivate at some point, but so far that hasn’t happened. He’s still out of commission.
Beside Gerber is the survival pack. The one I took from the escape pod before it sank in the sludge.
I open it and search through its contents.
The clothing is still there. I haven’t tried it on yet.
I probably should. It seems to be more durable than the ridiculous concubine outfit I’m wearing.
But that’s something I can worry about later.
Right now, I need water.
I slip the canteen out of the pack and nestle it between my legs. Then I prop the flashlight against the outside of my thigh so I can see what the hell I’m doing. I unscrew the top from the canteen. There’s a little plastic tether to keep it from getting lost.
Okay, here goes nothing…
I take a deep breath to fill my lungs with air, then I quickly pull the breathing mask off.
For a moment, the straps keep it firmly in place, but when I apply a little more pressure, they let go.
I set the mask on the ground beside me and pick up the canteen instead.
I lift it to my lips and drink, being extra careful not to breathe.
I allow myself two good-sized gulps before placing the canteen back between my legs.
Then I replace my breathing mask. As before, the straps automatically adjust to make it snug.
All in all, it takes me about fifteen seconds.
Not bad.
The water eases my thirst a little, but it doesn’t quench it completely. I want more, but I know I have to ration carefully. The canteen is all the water I’ve got, and I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to reach the crash site—or whether anybody else will even be there.
I turn off the flashlight to conserve the battery. Then I lean back against the inside of the bug shell and listen to the wind howling outside.
Here’s something else I learned about this planet.
The horizon is farther away than it looks.
I remember reading that Earth’s horizon is about three miles away, assuming you’re at sea level and you’re standing someplace flat. I know I walked more than three miles today. A lot more.
Of course, the smoke from the crash site probably wasn’t actually on the horizon. It was beyond it. Maybe a good ways beyond. How far away can you see smoke from? Now that’s a factoid I am not in possession of, and I wouldn’t even know where to start with the math.
All I know is that I must have walked ten miles or more, and it didn’t feel like I had gotten any closer to that damn crash.
What if this planet is bigger than Earth? That would make the horizon farther away.
But if it’s bigger, it would also be more massive. Wouldn’t that make the force of gravity stronger? Yet the gravity here feels the same as on Earth.
God, who knows?
Gerber could probably tell me, if he was working.
All I can do now is keep walking in the direction of the crash site. I’ll either reach it, or I’ll die trying. There’s not much else I can do at this point.
If only this stupid storm would let up.
I turn the flashlight back on and return to the survival pack. In addition to the clothing, there are several unlabeled packages of food, and one other item that makes me very, very uncomfortable.
The gun.
I reach into the pack and pull the weapon out, being extra careful to keep my fingers away from the trigger.
It’s small, not much bigger than the palm of my hand, and the surface is polished to a high, metallic sheen.
I feel like I should test it, just to see what the hell it even does, but I don’t want to blow a hole in the side of my makeshift shelter, and I don’t want to waste any ammo either. I might need it.
Then again, it may not even be a weapon at all. It could be some type of flare gun. That would make sense for a survival pack.
My stomach grumbles.
It suddenly occurs to me that the last thing I ate was my breakfast sandwich, and that was many hours ago. Obviously I’m not in danger of actually starving yet, but if I’ve got more walking to do, I’m going to need my energy.
I set the gun back inside the pack and take out one of the food packages instead. I use my face-mask maneuver to eat it. Some type of nutrient cake. Doesn’t taste like much of anything, but at least it puts a stop to my hunger pangs.
After I’m done eating, I take another drink from the canteen to wash it down.
That’s where I mess up.
As I’m taking my second gulp of water, something flutters deep within my core. It’s a subtle, ticklish sensation, but it’s so unexpected that it makes me gasp a little. Water goes down the wrong pipe, and the next thing I know, I’m hacking and coughing.
And breathing in big lungfuls of air in the process.
I quickly pull my face mask back on, but by that point I’ve already taken in a bunch of air. I’m not keeling over dead yet, so I guess the atmosphere must not be super toxic for humans.
Still doesn’t mean it’s safe to breathe.
Think I’ll keep the mask on for now.
The ticklish feeling returns, and this time it’s a bit stronger.
It’s a sensation I know all too well. I’ve been dealing with it every night for the past four weeks.
The side effects of the breeding drugs the Znthian doctors gave me.
I was hoping that was all behind me since I didn’t receive my daily dose before the ship crashed.
Apparently not. I’ve been receiving the injections for weeks now, so there’s no telling how long it will take for the stuff to leave my system completely.
But why is it starting up now of all times? In the past, it only happened at night. It can’t be night already, can it? I wasn’t walking for that long.
Wait…
Darkness.
Darkness must be what activates the urges. It’s dark inside the bug shell, so my body thinks it’s nighttime already, and therefore time for breeding.
God, the last thing I need right now is to go into freaking heat.
I grab the flashlight off the ground beside me and crawl to the other end of the shell.
There’s a little arched opening there, kind of like the entrance of an igloo.
I guess that’s where the bug’s head used to be.
Anyway, it’s how I got inside the shell in the first place.
Now I poke my head through and check the situation outside.
Not good. The ash storm is still going strong. Even though it’s still daytime, it might as well be night. I duck back inside.
My core clenches, and I gasp as a surge of wetness leaks from between my legs. Under my top, my nipples have become as hard as two pebbles.
Not now. Please not now.
I scramble back to the far end of the shell, desperately trying to think of what I should do.
Light!
If the darkness brings the urges, then light should dispel them. I shine the flashlight beam directly into my eyes until I can’t stand it anymore. Then I turn it off. The shadows in front of me dance with stars as my eyes struggle to adjust.
Did that work? For a moment, it seems like maybe it did, but then my arousal comes rushing back twice as strong as before. My concubine outfit is wet and clinging between my legs. My nipples are so stiff they hurt. And I know it’s only going to get worse from here.
More light…
I lift the flashlight to my face again and start to turn it on. But then I hesitate.
I don’t know how much of a charge this thing has, and I may need it later. I should try to conserve the battery.
Which only leaves me with one other option.
My mind flashes back to the last thing I saw before I left the Scarlet Ship.
I’m looking through the porthole of the escape pod at my bedchamber.
Across the room, I can see the portrait of the Emperor, and below that the glass case with the orange-jade phallus.
That toy was the only thing that could quell my nightly urges, but I don’t have it with me now.
I’m going to have to do this on my own.
With a sigh of resignation, I take off the bottom half of my outfit and place it on the ground beside me. Then I lean back against the side of the shelter and spread my legs. My lips are so sensitive it almost hurts to touch them. My clitoris is so full, it feels like it’s going to pop.
God. I’ve been marooned on an alien planet for less than a day, and now here I am playing with myself inside a giant bug shell with a skeleton and a dead cupid for company.
This is, without a doubt, the most embarrassing moment of my life.
Thankfully, no one’s around to see it.