Ar'Tok - Alana Khan Page 0,12

groan of the metal, every whoosh of the heating and cooling system, every hum and grind of the motor.

This ship makes strange noises. I’m not talking about the occasional laughter that spills under my door as others walk through the hallway. I’m talking about the spin of the motor, or the whir of the hydraulic panels.

When I first woke up in medbay, I thought it would be all the new people who would scare me most, but it’s the ship itself that is creeping me out. There’s the distant hum of the auxiliary fans kicking in, at least that’s what I think it is, but it’s wrong, not at all like the sounds on the Misfit.

And my bed isn’t right, either. It’s soft and mushy, not like my hard mattress from home. Ar’Tok left the bathroom light on and kept that door slightly ajar, so I wouldn’t be alone in the dark. But the light flowing in is too harsh.

I’ve been completely alone for four years. For a while after my dad died, I thought I’d go crazy from the isolation. That’s how I’m feeling now.

I slip out of bed, slap my hand on the palm plate, and turn right in the brightly-lit hallway. I’m knocking on Ar’Tok’s door before I can talk myself out of it.

Within seconds he’s standing in the open doorway, eyes flared wide in panic.

“What’s wrong, Star?”

What’s wrong? How about the fact that Ar’Tok is standing in front of me bare-assed naked? And how about the fact that I cannot stop my eyes from roaming over every square inch of him? And how about the fact that his body is beautiful and repellent in equal measures?

Out of all the Simkin pictures I’ve pored over for the last two months, studying them by day, dreaming of them by night, I’ve never seen a male form as perfect as the one in front of me. And yet, the ravages of abuse that mark his body like a roadmap of pain make my heart hurt.

“Star, what’s wrong?” his concerned voice interrupts the terrible rabbit hole my thoughts were sliding down.

“The noises,” I tell him, knowing I’m making no sense. I’m still standing in the hallway. He’s still naked as a jaybird, not one foot from me.

“Noises?”

“Can I step in?” The back of my mind wonders why I’m worried that someone will walk by and see our naked little whisper-conversation.

“Yes.” He shakes his head as if he only now realizes his state of undress, then turns, grabs some clothes from his dresser, and hurries to the head. I’m still standing, just inside the closed door, when he returns a minute later, fully dressed.

“Noises?” he asks.

My mouth is dry. I guess I didn’t find his body beautiful and repellent in equal measures, after all. Handsome trumps scars, because even though he’s fully dressed now, my mind keeps flashing me pictures of the naked body I glimpsed a moment ago.

I pull my thoughts together and say, “I know every scrape and whir of the Misfit. The Fool doesn’t sound the same. I don’t think I can get to sleep. Could I stay here? I’d be happy to sleep on the floor.”

It’s only now that I notice his bed is untouched. There’s a pallet on the floor near the far wall. And no, he doesn’t have ESP and didn’t prepare that for me. That’s where he sleeps—the sad little pile of blankets. There’s not even a pillow, both of those are on his bed.

His eyes veer from mine when I look back at him, the obvious question on my face.

“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m more comfortable there.” What’s sadder than that pile of blankets on the floor? The shame on his face as he admits his preference for it.

A huge part of me wants to apologize for waking him, turn around, and run back to my cabin. I don’t listen to her. “Thanks, Ar’Tok. I hate to bother you. I just knew I’d never get to sleep tonight alone in my room.”

A moment later, I’m in his bed, he’s in his pallet, and the silence in the room is deafening. Ten minutes earlier, the ship noises were bothering me; I don’t hear them at all now. All I can hear is Ar’Tok’s quiet breathing.

I peer over the edge of the bed and see the shine on his eyes from the scant light drifting under the bathroom door.

“Are you sleepy?” I ask.

“Not now.”

“Can we talk?”

He breathes deeply, his