Imposition Read Free

brought a certain amount of privacy—once you got beyond the thought that the ship could be observing you at any time—Therse at least welcomed that. Having to rough it out with a bunch of thick-necked dimwits was limited fun at the best of times, let alone if you were all naked and standing far closer together than felt comfortable.
    It had certainly never been something that had bothered Genham. He had fit right in immediately with the rest of their squad—not that that came as too much of a shock, they were his kind of people, after all—acting just like when he and Gen had first enrolled: a dumb, bullish, insensitive asshole, strutting around in the nude, talking shit, and dishing out jibes to any unfortunate within earshot.
    Something he used to do to Therse, on quite a regular basis and with some amount of venom.
    Droplets of water tickled their way down Therse's back and slipped between his buttocks.
    He put his palm out to lean on the flexiglass, but it moved out of his way, making him stumble awkwardly out of the cubicle, dripping and naked. He definitely would have gotten a ribbing for that back at the Navy base, but now there was no one there but him, standing damp and alone in the not insubstantial bathroom of his chosen suite somewhere in the vacuum between Epsilon and Gogh.
    He remembered that he needed to get back into the cubicle to dry himself and wafted a hand hesitantly at the glass film until it retracted—rather abruptly—and stepped back in again. After two weeks of doing this, he really should have learned already. He lifted his arms up and imagined how ridiculous he must look.
    "Dry,” he told the little display. After some experience of the process and a working knowledge of what was coming next, he screwed his eyes tight shut in anticipation.
    The twin blasts of hot air hit him like a scouring desert wind, and would have knocked him from his feet had they not been in directly opposing orientations. The experience was thoroughly unpleasant—not as unpleasant as when he'd done it the first time with his eyes open—but at least he was more-or-less completely dry in a couple of seconds. The furnace vents shut off and retracted back into the wall, and Therse stepped from the cubicle onto the soft tactile rubber floor.
    His reflection stared back at him from the room's field mirror, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt. He ran a hand through his short, unruly hair and pushed it halfheartedly into some sort of order, inspected his chin and decided a bit of stubble never did anyone any harm.
    The bedroom was spacious and simple, the only things in the room a large bed and a sturdy-looking desk he would never use. He and Genham had both chosen what probably amounted to Officer's quarters, which they'd agreed they were entitled to, given that they were the highest ranks aboard the vessel, and because it was unlikely they'd be visited by a Captain or higher with nothing better to do than climb aboard the good-ship Middle of Nowhere.
    The wallscreen opposite the bed flickered lazily to life as he walked towards it and popped the wall storage open, grabbing out a new shirt and fatigues. He watched the screen again for a couple of minutes as he dressed, only paying attention to the worst of the news headlines and feeling the dawning realization he was incredibly hungry.
    * * * *
    The Officers’ mess was a sizable cafeteria supplied by a number of auto-service units situated in a cluster off to one side—the only ones they really used being the hot drinks machine and one that produced food resembling hot noodle soup. Nothing that came out of the other units seemed even remotely palatable, though the ship claimed the products were both edible and nutritious.
    Therse picked his way through the maze of tables and chairs to the unit where his crew-mate was standing. Genham smirked at him across the light, open space. Therse ignored him, sidling past and picking up the cold coffee the man had been so kind