Blue Light of Home Read Free Page A

power-wash and an assertive breeze.
    “There is ample room for your possessions,” he continued, gesturing towards the cupboards. “I can adjust the temperature controls if you are too uncomfortable.” He paused, but when Skye just stood there, went on, “Put your soiled bedding in the washer behind you. It’s all automatic.”
    “Okay,” said Skye, since she supposed she had to say something.
    The alien pointed to a dark bubble on the wall right behind the bed. “The light will come on when I want you. You will come to my room. This way.”
    Skye followed him back into the narrow, curving hall, past another closed door—”The exercise room,” the alien remarked. “Daily regimes are recommended. I will show you how to work the devices.”—to his room.
    It was exactly the same size as hers, which came as something of an illogical comfort to her. It was all pretty Spartan; he had a spare harness tossed over the foot of the bed, a couple alien devices casually strewn over a small side-table, and one dark stone object of unclear purpose sitting on a narrow ledge, perhaps as decoration. There was no light above his bed, but there was a small panel within easy reach of it, so he wouldn’t even have to get up when he decided he wanted her.
    Wanted her.
    Again, her nerve tried to fail her. Again, she refused to let it. She was going to be here for a whole year, maybe two. She’d just better learn to deal.
    The alien decided she’d had enough of a look and shut the door. Without comment, he continued along the hall and back to the main room through a second door.
    “When you are hungry,” he began once she joined him, and thumbed at a wide panel above a small alcove in the wall. The first button he pressed opened a cupboard full of what appeared to be gravy tureens. He took one and placed it in the alcove, then touched a second button. A thick, colorless gel began to plop heavily into the tureen; It was about the most disgusting thing she’d ever seen. “This will satisfy your nutritional needs,” he continued, watching the tureen fill. “You will require two servings each day. I require three. Have you eaten?”
    “Yes,” she lied. She wasn’t ready to down a gravy boat of clear snot yet.
    He grunted again, took the filled tureen and drank it in ten deep swallows. “Emptied vessels are placed here,” he said, wiping his snout, and set the tureen in another cupboard. He pressed a button. “For sterilization.”
    They waited while the wall hummed. He drummed his fingers now and then, glanced at her and away. The wall sounded a tone. He took the tureen and put it with the clean ones in the cupboard.
    “You can sit to eat if you like,” he added, and indicated yet another touch-panel without activating it. “Apart from these things, you will not touch anything on the bridge. That—” He pointed straight up at another hatch in the ceiling. “—is the navigations deck. You won’t be going up there. Neither will I, until my work is done. If you are unsure at all which controls are which, ask me.”
    She was pretty sure she could keep it all straight, but she nodded anyway.
    He looked at her again, from head to toe and back again. “There is certain to be a need for disciplinary measures before our time is ended. How would you prefer them handled?”
    “Disciplinary measures?” she echoed, feeling her eyes bug out slightly. “No, sir, I swear I’ll be good!”
    He rested his eyes heavily on hers. It was a singularly unamused look. He began to walk around her, inspecting her closely. “If you were one of my people, a light slap to the snout would be sufficient deterrent, but—” He came back before her and eyed her nose. “—I wouldn’t want to break anything. Where should I strike you?”
    “Does it have to be violent like that?”
    “Violence is effective,” he said evenly, and began to circle her again. “The threat of violence is particularly effective once violence has already been