Inseminoid by Larry Miller Page B

what she has to say about it in the morning when she wakes up.”
    Holly took a long hard look at Karl. His hair was dishevelled. His white coat still bore stains of Kate’s blood and there were dark bags under his eyes.
    “Pack it in for the night. You look a mess.”
    Karl managed a laugh.
    “What’s so funny?” Holly asked.
    “Just that Sandy said almost the same thing to me early this morning before everything fell apart. The whole thing seems like a bad dream, a nightmare.” Karl glanced at Sandy, still fast asleep. “She’s dead to the world till tomorrow. I’ll just check on Kate and then I promise to get some shut-eye.”
    Holly returned to command while Karl moved slowly to the laboratory. He really was dead in his feet. The lab was dark when he got there. Only the green and red lights from the life-support machine glowed through the blackness. He went over to Kate’s unconscious body and stood over it for five long minutes. His mind jumped from image to image. He recalled the emergency operation he’d performed on her only a few hours earlier. It had been a slapdash job at the very best. But it was the best he was able to do being so vastly underequipped. Staring down at the woman, hearing only the machine-instigated forced breathing, the doctor wasn’t optimistic about her chances of staying alive long enough to reach the space-station hospital. At any moment infection could set in and he was afraid that opening her up again would be the final nail in the coffin.
    Karl turned away from her and stared into the darkness where he knew the creature, or rather the body of the creature rested. It wasn’t going anywhere. An autopsy and dissection could wait until the morning. The time had come to end what had been for him and the rest of the crew, a physically and emotionally draining day.
    Mark had finished writing his diary entry for the day and was in his underwear, just about to turn off the light, when there was a firm knock on his door.
    “Yes,” he called out.
    “It’s Sharon. Open up.”
    Mark ran his finger tips over the sensor and the door opened. Sharon was still in her work clothes.
    “I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”
    “I need a release. I know I won’t be able to get to sleep without one and I’m not in the mood for anything artificial.”
    “Want a drink?” Mark offered.
    “Stiff,” Sharon replied. She lay back on the bed while Mark poured her a double shot of whisky. “Here.”
    Sharon gulped it down in one swallow. “What a bitch of a day.”
    “It should be our last week here.” Mark said. “Holly doesn’t know she’s in over her head. We can’t do any more than we’ve already done here. I say, gather up the tablets and the remains of the creature and take it all back to the space station for study. Too many things have gone wrong since we got here.”
    “Holly is the commander on this mission,” Sharon reminded him.
    “That was a mistake.”
    “I’m not in a position to argue with you. Petty jealousies and power struggles have no place here and I’m not wasting my time or effort talking about them. Drop it.”
    “Okay, I will, but I’m bringing court martial action against her when we get back.”
    “That’s up to you. I’m here to fuck. How about it or do I have to break rotation?”
    Mark took a sip of alcohol straight from the bottle and stripped off his underwear.
    “Remove my clothes,” Sharon ordered him. Her words and her harsh tone sent a wave of desire flowing to Mark’s loins. He reached out and unzipped her one-piece jump suit. Her breasts were small and she neither needed nor wore a bra. She stepped out of the pile of clothes at her feet.
    “Now the panties.”
    Mark fell to his knees and slid the silky material over her hips and down her legs.
    “Now stand up.” He did and she took his hardness into her hands and squeezed until he could stand the combination of pain and pleasure no longer. Sharon released him and ordered him to lie