I shake my head, still typing, mumbling lines of code to myself so I don’t forget them before I can tap them out.
“You sure? A catnap?”
I shake my head more savagely. “Line forty, execute logi-dot-bat iff var1 equals Y...”
“I think you do.”
I turn around furiously. “Kodiak, I . . . oh.”
He’s lying out on the ground, right here in the blind room, on his side, his head propped up in his palm. He pats the floor in front of him.
“Do you mean... a cuddle?” I ask, face hot.
He blanches. “That’s not what we would have called it back in training.”
I roll my eyes. “This was called, what, ‘tough-man companion time’?”
He laughs. “Not so far from that, actually.”
I look at him, at the drape of his jumpsuit, at the line from hip to shoulder, and from hip down to ankle. His ankle is surprisingly delicate on a body of such force.
“Only for twenty minutes,” he says. “Then we go back to work.”
“Okay,” I say. “Only for twenty minutes.”
I get up from the terminal, stretch nervously, and then lower myself so I’m on my side, parallel to Kodiak, not touching him. I’m a little baffled by his sudden openness,though I realize that finding copies of yourself is probably enough to scramble anyone’s hardwiring.
He eases forward so the heat of his body is along my back and legs, and any remaining confusion vanishes.
I gasp. I can’t stop myself. This touching of bodies slakes a need I didn’t know was this strong.
I study his body with mine, observe his stomach with my hips, his thighs with mine, his chest with my neck. His crotch with my ass. I sigh and snuggle in closer. “This is nice,” I say.
“Yes,” he says softly into the top of my head. “I could get used to this.”
_-* Tasks Remaining: 80 *-_
I manage to fall asleep, my dreams riddled and chaotic. I wake an hour later. “Welcome back,” Kodiak says as I yawn.
“Did you sleep?” I ask.
“No,” he says, getting to his feet. “But I feel rested.” I look away as he adjusts his suit over his crotch.
Only a few hours later, and I’ve got the shell set up and debugged and loaded onto an offline bracelet.
When I stand, Kodiak removes his headphones. “Ready?”
I nod.
“Now we upload it to the ship?” he asks.
I laugh. “Sweet lords, no. If I forcefully replace the OS of the ship, we could lose life support, our course for Titan, our protocols for Minerva’s communications, everything. I’m running a shadow OS within the bracelet, completely independent. This one will reveal everything it knows to us. We can call it OS Prime.”
“Ah,” Kodiak says. “That is a better idea. There is quite a brain in that pretty head.”
Pretty head! Hey now. I’ve had better compliments—Sri was particularly good at them—but wordsmithing isn’t where Kodiak’s best qualities lie. I savor the words as I remove the bracelet and set it on the ground, out of view of Rover. “Want to watch?” I ask Kodiak.
“Are you kidding? This is the best game in town. I’m not going to pass it up.”
