You've Got Something On Your Eye
The giantess stomped along the steel deck—ting-tack, ting-tack—tinny echoes bouncing back. She ducked under a low beam, and hammered a fist at the wall—tung, tung.
“Mother fucker.”
Blue light flashed on at every stride, casting a gunmetal sheen over the pipes and panels of the Fénix’s orlop deck.
At a small hatch, alone in the corridor, she halted—glared at the latch. Why’d the girl go and set her cot in the most inconvenient place on the ship? There was barely enough room to stand up, at least for anyone over two meters tall. Hand on the handle, she squeezed—wanted it to break—yanked it down and threw the hatch open—clang—steel hit steel.
Crash—the girl inside flew back in her chair, metal tinking all around her.
Ducking through—finger stabbing—”It’s your turn!”
“Mariem? Jeez-us!” Simonee shouted, shoving black hair out of her face as she rolled to her knees and scooped up scattered tools. She stood, holding up an oblong piece of tech, teeth bared as she scanned it. Face pinched—pissed—she turned on Mariem. “My turn to what?”
“Your turn to…” The fire simmered as her stomach pushed up and her neck hairs stuck out—cold across her shoulders.
She swallowed. “The fuck you doing?”
Cloudy goop dripped off the device between Simonee’s fingers and her right eye... was empty. Colorful wires dangled against her cheek—the same goo seeping from the hole in her skull.
“I’m cleaning—my eye,” She grumbled.
Mariem’s nose tucked up. “That’s... ew. What is that stuff?”
Simonee rubbed it between her fingers. “Coolant. Bacteria got into it. Anyway, you said it’s my turn to do something? Can’t be the compost clean-out, because I’ve already done it twice this month.”
Mariem’s nails dug into her palms; she bit down the sting. “No. It’s Carlos. He’s...” She shook his face from her head. “In a mood. And I don’t feel like being his punching bag today.”
Simonee’s jaw dropped. “He’s hitting you?”
She squinted. “No! I’d knock his ass out.” Her head shook again. “He’s just being a grumpy pain in the ass.” But it was more than that—he’d cut deep tonight: Fucking following me around, like a puppy—I need this Carlos, I need that Carlos! And it wasn’t even his words—his eyes... hollow. All the bite was in his teeth.
She crossed her arms and squeezed, feet thudding back and forth on the deck in front of the table. “I was just doing my job, same as always, but Nav was all locked up and I needed his auth.” A fist smacked a palm—again. “Next thing I know we’re screaming at each other and all I want to do is pop his grizzly old head off like a bottle cap and damnit maybe he’ll tell you what the fuck his deal is because he likes you.”
Simonee flinched, head shaking—wires swaying. “But he loves you.”
“Which is why it’s so easy for him to hurt me!” She covered her face with her hands—hot, the sting rising. She breathed.
She wiped at her face, blinking out a stuck lash—blinking away his eyes. “Carlos has these... episodes. But this is different. Darker.” He wasn’t even drunk this time. “He likes you, and maybe he won’t be such a dick since he doesn’t know you very well yet. And I swear, if I have to deal with him like this I’ll blow him straight out of the airlock. So, it’s your turn.”
Simonee nodded, one eye soft even with the other still in her hand. “Okay. Give me twenty to finish up here. Sooner, if you can help with the tricky part.”
Simonee reached out, but Mariem side-stepped to the other side of the table. “What’s the tricky part?”
Simonee frowned and grabbed a cloth; dabbed at the thing in her hand. “Clean-out and refill are easy, but the wiring harness is delicate. I’ll handle that. If you can hold the assembly for me, I can use two hands.”
Her lips twisted. “Do I have to touch anything goopy?”
Simonee shook her head. “It’s standard coolant—you probably have a liter of it caked on those dirty coveralls. What makes this so gross?”
Mariem’s brow lifted. “The fact it’s oozing out of your empty eye socket.”
Simonee sighed. “It’ll be dry before you have to touch anything. Just give me a few minutes.”
Mariem plopped down onto the cot behind her. The frame creaked. Rivets and weld seams everywhere she looked. The single white LED overhead was losing to the purple VASIMR plume bleeding through the porthole they used for mooring inspections.
Ten years after the Eleos and Simonee still found places to hide. She shouldn’t have to here—not that Mariem had done much to argue.
Simonee poked a fresh cloth into that socket and spun it, pressing the harness tight against her cheek. More goop oozed out—squeak—and Mariem’s teeth ground on their own.
Her eyes clenched.
Simonee’s voice startled them open again. “So… this is nice.”
She nodded at the table. “What about this is nice?”
Simonee’s one eye drifted over. “You and me, hanging out for once.”
Her chin ducked. “Why?” She regretted the question.
“Really?” Simonee whined. “Mariem, we left Enceladus Station weeks ago and I haven’t seen you once without Carlos in the room. It’s like you’re avoiding me.”
Mariem’s hands dropped, palms out. “I’m here now.” Chin jutting, “You’re the one who picked the ass end of the ship for your bunk. You had me grab one duffle from your apartment, and you had way better stuff there.” She patted the frame of the cot. “A real bed for instance.”
“I travel light when I get kicked out of a place.”
The wince went all the way to Mariem’s belly—she’d sent Simonee packing with nothing but a pair of sagging coveralls and an eye patch.
Simonee ran a swab around the inside of the sac—translucent—it looked too big for where she was about to put it. “Anyway, stop deflecting. I’m up top way more than I’m down here. We eat dinner, have a few laughs, talk about nothing.” She glanced over. “Then you disappear while I do the dishes.”
“I hate doing dishes.”
Simonee’s head shook a bit. “But you can’t just watch me do them and chat a little?”
Mariem’s knuckles smacked the cot frame. “What do you want from me?”
Simonee glared over. “I don’t know, maybe you’d like to hear all about the life you gave me?” Her fingers slipped and the coolant sac bounced over the table. “Fuck.” She snatched it back, waving it at Mariem. “But it takes a blow out with Carlos to get an audience with you. I used to dream about what I’d say if we ever met again. You’re the only person who can understand why anything I did was amazing.”
Mariem watched but barely saw—Simonee had the sensor in the sac and was plunging a syringe beside it. “I shouldn’t have kicked you out,” she said, then her eyes dropped. “I should have protected you.”
“You didn’t kick me out. We agreed—it wasn’t safe for either of us,” Simonee said, then let out a breath. “I don’t have any regrets, and neither should you.”
Simonee pushed the metal cap down over the coolant sac—click—and it snapped into place. She held it out to Mariem.
Mariem blinked at it—then stood, reaching—plucked it from Simonee’s hand.
She turned it over and under. “If this thing’s sealed, how did you get all that goop in your face?”
“The bacteria swelled the sac and it stuck. So I had to squeeze some out.”
Frowning, Mariem held it up in front of her. “Now what?”
“Hold it a sec.” Simonee pinched the wiring harness and tilted her head. Reaching, she waved Mariem closer.
Mariem inched the eye toward Simonee’s empty socket. Simonee leaned in with the plug—
Snap—the plug went in. Simonee cupped under the eye, twisting the plug—click—but her hand brushed Mariem’s and Mariem jerked back; the eye fell. Sssup! Simonee gasped but caught it. Her good eye glared up as she tucked in the cable and popped the implant into the socket with a hissy fart of displaced air.
“You’re totally avoiding me,” She said. “You’re afraid to touch me. The pheromones don’t work like that.”
Mariem’s gaze dropped and she turned away. “I know.”
The chair screeched back, and Simonee was at her elbow. “Then what’s wrong?”
Mariem found Simonee’s eyes gazing up, the implant gleaming purple next to the green. She turned. “What exactly do you want from our relationship?”
Simonee flinched. “What?”
“You want to be alone with me, and chat, and remember the good ol’ days, but when we were alone in those good old days... stuff happened. I don’t know if you want that again.”
Simonee’s brow dove and her head shook. “After Dalia? I don’t know. If you want—”
Mariem stormed to the hatch. “That’s just it. I don’t want!”
Simonee’s face went flat, eyes wide—and Mariem’s stomach dropped.
“It was wrong.” Her voice cracked. “You were like what 2 years old?”
Simonee’s lips thinned and her hands found her hips. “Gestationally, that’s like 16 human years.”
Mariem’s hands flew out beside her. “Not much better!” She faced bare metal and hugged herself. “I was supposed to protect you and I let that happen. Then I got rid of you.” She turned back. “And now you’re back and you’ve grown so much and I’m so fucking proud of you, but when you touched me in that closet it all flooded in and I felt... dirty. I don’t want that again.”
Simonee seemed a shade paler—if that was possible. How did she remember it?
But she swallowed—her shoulders jumped. “I want my friend, Mariem. What happened... that’s what they trained me to do.”
That hit her in the throat, and Mariem slumped down on the cot again—creak. “I’m sorry,” she said. “For avoiding you.”
Simonee nodded and went back to the table. Picking up tools. Laying them out neat on a cloth.
“Hey.” Mariem nodded at the hatchway. “It’s your turn.”
Simonee glanced and then sighed, “Yeah, Carlos.”
She left. Mariem stayed. The plume through the porthole turned her hands plum as she wrung them—knot over knot, knot over knot. The hollow of Carlos’s eyes flashed again and again—more panic than anger.
And a thought persisted—This ain’t right.
New to Simonee's story? The Cannibal of Cloud Ball 9 is Book Two of The Girl with the Cybernetic Eye. Book One — The Ice Princess of Enceladus Station — is complete and free to read. Start here.