I smirked. “Six years aboard Oceanus with Commander Testosterone? Yeah, that should make for a real love fest. Imagine if I had slept with Lara. Would you be so quick to accept the Europa mission?”

“Probably not.”

I exhaled deeply. For days, I had played out this very scene in my head, the lovers’ chess game always ending in a stalemate. “I guess this is it then. Tomorrow night you guys get frozen, while I have a nice thirty-day chat with the computer.”

“What about Kevin? Your report?”

“I’m scheduled to meet with El Capitán later tonight—not that it matters. I’ve already decided to give your male shipmates a clean bill of health.”

Andria turned away, her lower lip quivering.

“Hey, you okay?”

“I screwed up.” Tears were free-falling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to leave you.”

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “I don’t want you to go.”

“What if you told GOLEM that Kevin was the sociopath? Would you come with me to Europa then?”

“Jesus, Andie.”

She unzipped her jumpsuit six inches, then pressed my palm to her left breast. I leaned over to kiss her, only to be clenched by the cursed support harness. She snapped me free, and the two of us went at it, Andria engaging the autopilot with one hand, me with the other as I tore at the zipper of her jumpsuit, unleashing those tanned breasts …

“Andria, report! Is everything all right?”

She was on top of me, half naked, tearing at my jumpsuit. Panting, she reached overhead for the radio. “Everything’s fine, Commander.”

“You engaged the autopilot.”

“Just testing the system.”

I sucked on a nipple, my fingers reaching to touch her below.

“Your batteries are below eight percent. Return to Oceanus at once. That’s an order.”

She slammed the radio back on its cradle and climbed off me, the two of us panting heavily. “Come see me tonight … nine o’clock in my cabin. I’ll cook us a real dinner.”

“Nine o’clock. What’s on the menu … besides you?”

“My favorite.” She grinned, pointing out the cockpit glass to the bundle of tentacles. “Calamari.”

*   *   *

I showered, packed, then watched the original Planet of the Apes on Lara’s micro-disc player, killing two hours. At 8:47 P.M. I left the stateroom and headed for the galley. The dining hall was empty, the lights dimmed to maintain a night-shift ambiance. Stepping up to the food selector, I scanned the beverage menu, selecting a wine cooler. “Four please.”

“Alcohol is a regulated beverage. You are permitted two servings per twenty-four hour period.”

“Two are for Andria Saxon.”

“Crewman Saxon must order her own alcoholic beverage.”

“Whatever … fine. Give me two wine coolers to go.”

“Today is October 7, 2028. Cryogenic stasis is scheduled for October 8, 2028, at twelve hundred hours. Alcohol is not to be consumed within thirty-six hours of cryogenic stasis. Request denied.”