As she squinted to make out just who it was a song began playing. It sounded foreign … old, as if it was being played on a record player. Scratchy, definitely not stereo. Distant. A voice began singing, a man’s voice in some unknown, harsh language. From the sound of him an image came to mind of a fat, pink-faced, jovial man. It was not long before the others in the room were joining in, clanging their mugs on hard surfaces with the beat of the song. Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank. The multiple. The redhead dreamily nodded as she felt his hands slide down her body and inch up the hem of her skirt. She gasped loudly as she felt his fingers made their way around to her waist, and then down to caress her through the hot, damp crotch of her panties. Her toned legs opened wider in encouragement as he stroked her pubis through the wet, silk, his fingertips sliding under the material and immediately seeking and finding her eager clitoris. Her shaking body trembled and she realised she had. It had traveled well over 4 billion kilometers since leaving Triad Naval Base and, by all indications, neither the WestHem nor the EastHem navies-who both kept stealth ships of their own constantly on station just outside the 100,000 kilometer limit of Martian territorial space-had any idea they had even left. Calistoga and the 45 men and women inside it were absolutely and completely alone in this region of space and would remain so until they arrived at their jump off point in nine. I’ve just got a headache.’ ‘Well, I’ve got an aspirin.’ The music was turned down and I could hear laughing. The sort of laughter that starts off as a giggle and ends up raucous, indicating drunkenness. I thought I would take a look. I walked back across the road and pushed open an old wire gate. A red painted cement footpath led to a wooden verandah that was well shaded. It had a high tiled roof and was comparatively cool. Old lounge chairs marked with animal fur lined the verandah and in the.
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