Author : Geoffrey Cashmore
â€œI hate this bit.â€ Tress settled back into her trans-seat and blinked as the young man in the blue uniform smiled and sprayed a puff of Tranq into her face.
â€œBlurq!â€ In the next seat, her husband lay back too as his host closed the canopy and set the dials, â€œWhy canâ€™t they make this stuff taste better? I hate peppermint.â€
Tress leant over to whisper â€œTheyâ€™re all so good lookingâ€¦the hosts.â€
Pol grunted â€œYeah. You know theyâ€™re all gay, donâ€™t you?â€
â€œNo, thatâ€™s just a myth.â€ Tress lay back again, giggling at the idea. â€œYouâ€™re just jealous.â€
â€œMe? Jealous?â€ Pol flapped a large hand dismissively in the air, â€œIâ€™m telling you, common knowledge. All gay.â€ He let out a long yawn, â€œNot that it matters â€“ â€˜cept if you think about it too hard â€“ then itâ€™s kinda weirdâ€¦â€
Tress felt the oxygen lamina start, â€œOh, I donâ€™t know. I think itâ€™s quite a turn on.â€ She didnâ€™t hear Polâ€™s reply â€“ not in her own ears. By the time the couple were ready to board the cruiser, their identities were established in their respective hosts, ready for the risky trip to Rigel-12.
Dozens of similar looking men in snug fitting blue uniforms stood in rows at the foot of the boarding ramp.
â€œPol? Is that you?â€ Tress thought her voice sounded rather deep.
â€œYeah, hey, lookâ€¦put your badge on so I can find you in the crowd a little easier.â€ One man helped another fit a small plastic card with Tressâ€™s photo onto his collar clip. â€œOkâ€¦I think weâ€™re ready to board.â€
The other man turned away for a moment, looking over towards the trans-bays â€œBye, me.â€ He said, then ran to catch the others as they climbed the boarding ramp. â€œHey, Polâ€¦nice butt!â€