Manhood

To Doryn 7, the ship's computer estimated that the entire journey would take six days, seven hours, and forty-seven minutes. The crew of the Kyara had become accustomed to the inevitable boredom of interstellar travel after three days of travel.

 Nora was left to wander aimlessly through the ship's corridors. As Luna and Nayla once again dominated the simulator, Yan and Amelina were probably "Wrong idea," she told herself, shaking her head a little like she was clearing cobwebs. Her hands needed a break from tapping at the tablet after sending the most recent chapter of her novel manuscript to StellarNet through the ship's communications. Kieran was where? Perhaps there was a glimmer of interest in whatever he was doing. Most likely not, but what the devil? She thought.

 What would he probably be doing? With sporadic electronic blips, the loudest continuous humming came from the engineering wing's propulsion section. Nora made her way to the sound. As she got closer, the doors opened with a soft swish of servomotors.

 Inside, Kieran was kneeling in front of an open access panel that cast a spooky blue glow over the surrounding area. Inside was a complicated maze of relays and wires. Inside the panel, a complex mess was linked to a diagnostic monitor steadyed by his mechanical right hand. His large toolbox was open on the deck next to him, and his natural left hand held a strange instrument that looked like a cross between a wrench and something he had rescued from a junkyard.

 "Whatcha doing?" With a purposefully grating sing-song tone, Nora inquired.

 Kieran turned, a little startled. His left hand had multiple new minor burns, and the front of his work vest was more scorched than usual. He said, "Hey, Nora," but it was obvious from his tone that he was not interested in talking.

 But Nora continued, looking into the throbbing blue light. "Blinky. "What is it?"

 He gave a blunt response, "The primary router system for the ion storm drive,"

 "What are you doing to it?"

 "Trying to squeeze a little more power out of it."

 "While it's running?"

 "Yeah."

 Well, that explains the burns, Nora thought. She inquired, "How high have you pushed it?"

 "One hundred seventeen percent of maximum sustainable output."

 "Isn't that kind of dangerous?"

 "Yes. The entire ship might be reduced to its component atoms if I make a mistake. Now, please leave." He spoke in a low, authoritative voice, but there was a hint of extreme fatigue in it, as though he hadn't slept since the beginning of time. Kieran had kept his gaze on the monitor the entire time, only looking up when he started talking. Nora scowled. Kieran wasn't usually like this. No, hold on a second, she told herself, he's usually in a completely neutral mood. This is... antagonistic. It must have happened.

 Softly, she said, "Okay, what's wrong?"

 "Nothing," he said in an unconvincing and much too hasty manner.

 "Come on, you can tell me," demanded Nora.

 With a deep sigh, Kieran finally removed the monitor and carefully put it back in his toolbox. As he spoke, he gathered his strewn-about tools and secured the latches to close the access panel. "Hiding out is something I dislike. Who in the world are we fleeing from?

 Nora reflected, "We don't exactly have much choice," "We are being pursued by the Solyn authorities and, consequently, the Inner and Outer Core police forces. Furthermore, Lek must have had influential Senate friends who were probably less concerned with legal etiquette than the official police.

 "I still don't enjoy running," Kieran complained.

 "Then why did you just spend hours trying to make the ship go faster?" Nora made a reasonable point.

 Kieran snorted, a faint smile flickering across his lips before he burst into grudging laughter. "Good point," he said in agreement.

 That was simple enough, Nora thought contentedly. Still, something had to be done about the oppressive boredom that hung over the ship. Something extreme

 The next day, Yan started to stir at 1134 ship time. Slowly, his eyes opened, and he looked at the room next to him, where Amelina slept soundly, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He quietly slipped out of bed and padded to his dresser, where he opened the top left drawer to reveal a brand-new pair of boxers. His senses still functioning in the usual daze of awaking, he picked up a pair and put them on instinctively. He went to the bathroom, gathered the rest of his clothes, and switched on the shower. He looked down at his reflection as he stood in front of the mirror, putting nutrient paste on his tooth cleaner.

 He stopped in his tracks and fixed his intense gaze on his panties. It had a bright, wavy pattern of yellow, red, blue, and green tie-dye. Confused, he put down the toothpaste and went back to the drawer on the dresser. He opened it completely and found that all of his boxers had been given the same psychedelic treatment. Nora. His mind provided the culprit at once. Nora alone. A smirk slowly developed as he glanced down at his brightly colored skivvies once more. He made his way to the shower.

 A plan for retaliation started to take shape as the warm water poured over him. Although he admitted that there might be collateral damage, it was ideal. After taking a quick shower, he jogged down the hallways to the engineering section, leaving Amelina undisturbed. He listened intently outside the propulsion room, but could hear nothing that would suggest Kieran was there.

 Silently, he made his way down the hall to one of the main storage rooms and opened a locked cabinet to retrieve several vials of particular chemicals. He carefully combined two transparent liquids in a large beaker and then added a measure of a powdery white solid, reenacting a basic experiment he vaguely remembered from a long-ago chemistry class. The mixture turned a deep, vivid purple as soon as the powder touched the solution. Three liters of the powerful dye solution could be made from the raw materials on the shelves. After mixing everything, he decanted it into three extra water filter canisters that he had bought from the same storage area.

 He checked the corridor again with a cunning smile, but it was empty. Yan sprinted back toward the 'Life Support & Recycling Systems' door in the ship's center. Through the metal deck plating, the vibrations of four massive machines hummed softly inside. Potable water was processed in one, shower and coolant water reclamation in another, food waste and sanitation in a third, and a high-capacity air filtration unit in the final one. Numerous wires and tubes branched off to their various locations throughout the ship as they slithered from the machines into the walls.

 Yan knelt down next to the shower water filtration unit. He reached under his arm and set one of the dye-filled canisters on the ground. He pushed the current filter cylinder into his hands with a well-practiced twist and push. He took his purple mixture, set aside the standard filter, and slipped it into the machine with ease. The system hummed back into its typical operating rhythm after accepting the new canister without protest. Excellent. Yan quickly returned to his quarters after grabbing the old filter and his two remaining dye canisters.

 Yan entered with a barely contained triumphant expression as the door slid open on silent pneumatics. He quickly put the three canisters away in his room's tiny refrigerator unit, observing with a laugh how out of place they appeared next to a number of vintage thirty-year-old champagne bottles. He straightened up and rubbed his hands together, experiencing the euphoric thrill of a prankster who had just executed a legendary stunt that would make him famous in the dorm room.

 But when he saw that Amelina was no longer in bed, his sense of victory vanished. Just a moment later, he heard the clear sound of the shower running. "Oh, shit!" he cried to himself. At the moment, the woman he loved was soaking in a strong, almost permanent purple dye. Decency over bravery, he left the room without a word, not wanting to face Amelina's inevitable anger when she found out. Desperate to come up with something casual to do, he walked calmly down the hallway.

 The door of Luna's cabin suddenly slid open as he passed it. With incredible speed, a bare leg swung out, striking Yan's ribs and sending him tumbling into the wall of the hallway across from him. A rock-solid forearm slammed against his throat, pinning him firmly before he could recover. Luna was furious as she stood in front of him. Her skin was stained several shades lighter, and her normally dark hair had turned a startling shade of rich purple. She exuded pure rage, clad only in a towel, her damp hair dripping. Otherwise, Yan might have laughed at the sight, but the murderous expression in her eyes made it impossible to laugh—or do anything else that could cause castration.

 "You're going to tell me how to get this shit out of my hair," Luna growled in a dangerously low voice. At this moment."

 A sliver of Yan's typical bluster came out as he forced a feeble smile. She needed his assistance now. He was able to sign his own death warrant by asking, "What's in it for me?"

 "Your manhood," Luna said bluntly as she thrust her knee deep into Yan's groin.

 Immediately he fell, curled up on the floor, wheezing, gasping for air. After a long minute of letting him suffer, Luna reiterated her demand. "Tell me."