His expression was grim and focused, but concern warmed the gold of his eyes. With the last encouraging squeeze, he let go of my shoulders, then produced a device from the holster under his arm. It took me a few moments to realize that he was holding a weapon.
I only had some theoretical knowledge of guns. To me, they were mostly costume props we used when filming historical movies. I knew just enough to distinguish between the projectile shooting handguns that the captain had used to threaten his crew the day of my arrival on the Dark Anomaly, and the slightly more modern laser gun that Wyck was now holding in his hand.
Both kinds of weapons had been long eliminated from use by civilians back on Earth. I’d never had a chance to see a real gun until I got to the Dark Anomaly.
“Are you planning to use it against your own crew mates?” I asked. My hands started to tremble from the anxiety caused by that thought.
“Let’s hope I won’t have to,” he replied with an ominous note in his voice.
Clutching the tablet so hard my fingers hurt, I nodded silently, following him to the door.
Wyck clipped the end of Lesh’s chain to his belt, holding the gun in one hand while he took my arm with the other.
As we walked down the corridor, his hand gradually slid down my arm. By the time we stopped in front of the entrance to the mess hall, his fingers were laced through mine.
I gripped his hand tightly. It was large and rough, warm and strong and most importantly, unlike mine, it did not tremble. That alone was more comforting to me than anything.
The air in the room was rich with sweat and charged with lust. I tried to avert my eyes from the half-naked male bodies. It was challenging to find a safe place to rest my gaze, however. Every chair in the room was occupied. Some of the crew were reclining on the floor, leaning against the walls. Others clung to the walls or the pipes and cables under the ceiling.
The mass rippled and stirred with excitement as Wyck and I entered. I felt the weight of their attention on me, their gazes sliding down my body, their nostrils flaring to suck in my scent.
“Show us what you’ve got, sweet thing!” someone yelled.
“Yeah but give us more to see this time!” another one warned.
I stopped myself from raising my eyes to search for them. The less I saw, the less I’d remember and the fewer nightmares I might have later.
Letting go of Wyck’s hand regretfully, I turned on the tablet. The upbeat music of my selected song filled the space, drowning out the noise of the crowd.
“I’m ready,” I said to Wyck quietly.
Hands on my waist, he lifted me up onto one of the tables that had been pushed next to each other to form a makeshift catwalk-style stage. I glanced back at him, getting some comfort from having him here.
His yellow eyes focused on me with wonder and anticipation.
Was Wyck just as excited as the rest of them to see me strip?
What would it matter if he were? He was one of them after all.
I drew in a deep breath, letting the music take over my senses. The dancing part was easy. I hadn’t practiced the choreography beforehand, it just came to me as I went. Letting my heart guide me freed my mind. After having spent a week locked in a room, I found any movement liberating. I twirled, leaped, and glided, wishing I could simply keep dancing like this, lost to the world.
Except that they were waiting—the world of the Dark Anomaly.
Blindly, I found the tie of the top layer of my outfit and tore at it. The long, wrap-style dress fell away. Someone snatched it out of the air before it had a chance to flutter to the ground. I was left in another long, flowing skirt and a cropped, sleeveless top.
A roar rolled through the room.
“Too many clothes!”
They didn’t want to be teased. They demanded everything, and they wanted it now.
I glanced Wyck’s way. His expression momentarily made me forget about the restless crowd. Wonder and appreciation shone on his face—the expression that every artist longed to see on the faces of their audiences.
Out of the hundreds of individuals here, Wyck was the one who truly appreciated my dancing. He appeared happy to watch it even as I remained fully clothed.