Ke’ain walks toward me, and as he does, he nearly trips over the tubing that runs out the window. I assume it supplies my little quarantine station with clean air from outdoors. He tries to conceal his stumble as he straightens out the leg of his suit when his body is pitched forward, and I can’t help but laugh a bit at his expense. He ignores me, with an air of dignity, and presses the paperback up against the plastic wall.
I tilt my head—the book is upside down—and read the title aloud to him, “Oh…it’sLady Chatterley's Lover.”
Ke’ain looks at my tilted head, frowns, and slowly turns the book rightside up. “Is it not a good one?”
“I mean, I think it’s good, so to speak…”
“What’s it about?” my big alien asks.
“Well, I haven’t read it, but it’s”—wow, I guess that shot bolstered my confidence more than I realized—“it’s...” I cough as I say the last word, “erotic.”
Ke’ains face pulses blue before he cracks into a chest splitting laugh. “It’s what we’ve got tonight, little Opal. Do you want me to toss it out then?”
“No, no, no—I suppose it’s better than nothing.”
“Alright, let me just…” He reaches for the doorway before scratching his head. “I don’t have a hazmat suit. I probably shouldn’t…”
“It’s alright, I should probably get some sleep anyway.” I resign myself to a night alone without any entertainment.
“I could hold it up for you to read if you want. I don’t mind at all—”
“Don’t be silly, go get some sleep too. It’s fine. It wasn’t really on my to-read list, even though I do appreciate the thought.” I start to shoo him off but I get distracted by the thick fog that begins to roll in through my airflow pipes. The purple smoke curls up the walls of my clean room.
“What’s that?” Ke’ain asks dumbfounded.
“Um, why the fuck would I know?” I start to panic as the fog rises and the acrid taste of the gas hits my nose. I rush to cover my mouth and run to the locked plastic door before pausing at the keycode panel. I cough, trying desperately to not take in any more of the gas. “Ke’ain, what’s the code?”
I swivel as I hear a thud against the plastic wall behind me. Ke’ain slams his muscular shoulder into the plastic barrier, and small cracks form as he repeats the previous motion.
“Ke’ain, just open the damn door!” The gas burns my lungs. I start to panic as my air is cut off and I choke. My lungs are desperate for fresh air.
He slams his shoulder against the crack again. “I don’t—” he grunts, pushing his hulking frame against the crack “—know the damn—” until finally his shoulder comes crashing through the crack as the wall gives “—code!”
His body comes crashing to the floor along with shards of thick plastic. Air rushes into my clean room, and I take a gulping breath. It dulls the burning slightly, but I rush toward the fallen Ke’ain and try to lift his large frame from the floor. He pushes his long gray arms, pops his body up athletically, and wraps his arms around my frame. He rushes us both out through the smashed plexiglass.
The ease with which he lifts my body startles me, and he presses my face against his chest. His huge hand cradles me more gently than seems possible. He coughs, and turns his head, trying not to spit directly on me. I can’t see where we're going, but I feel the percussion of his feet as they pound on the marble floor. The hinges of a door screech at the speed at which he flings it open.
Ke’ain lays me gently on something soft. A bed? I clear the fog from my eyes and cover my mouth as I can’t stop the burning in my throat. Ke’ain slams his large hand onto a silver button next to the open door frame. With a whoosh, metal barriers roll up from the ceiling to floor, blocking off the door frame and window. The silver metal is almost corrugated in texture. It rolls over the ceiling and all the planes of metal meet; they slam shut with a clank.
“What in the world…” I say as I stare at the shiny silver that surrounds us.
The metallic surfaces shift to a forest scene, sunlight streaming through pink alien trees, with the soft hums of things that almost sound like crickets. Ke’ain slumps on the bed next to me, clearing his throat and rubbing his watering eyes…
“It’s a panic room, developed to be soothing.” He hacks a cough away from me before turning his hands to clasp my face. “Are you hurt?”
His eyes are wide and his face is full of fear. He looks up and down my body, as he waits for a response.
“I think I’m alright, Ke’ain…” I cough again, tilting my head down and putting my forehead on his chest. “I’m guessing that’s not part of my decontamination process?”
He wraps his arms around me, and I allow myself to slump into his warm body. His skin feels like smooth leather, and it’s strangely comforting. I push my body further into his, my eyelids heavy.
“No, I’m afraid it might be an assassination attempt.” He pulls me up to sit, his blue eyes staring into mine. “I need you to stay awake, sweet Opal.”
He pats my cheek, attempting to keep my eyes from closing. I know that his attempts are in vain. I can already feel my neck collapsing—I can’t support my head. Taking one final gulp of air before my consciousness slips, I slump against Ke’ain’s chest, my nose smooshing against his soft gray skin.
“You smell nice,” are the last words I’m able to get out before the blackness takes over.
* * *
