They sprint across the beach, the tips of waves shining in the moonlight. The jungle is silent and the wind is still. In her mind, Myrha can still hear the clacks of teeth and the ripping of flesh. As they run, it feels as if the island is a lot bigger than it seemed from space. Myrha just hopes it’s big enough to hide them from those things.

The cave is right up against the beach, nestled in a long line of cliff-like features that rise up from the sand. They dive in and Myrha sags against the cave wall, gasping for breath. She’s never run so much in her life (well, except for that one time with the punch and the authorities). Surprisingly, Lynne sits down as well.

“What, do androids get tired now?” Myrha jokes.

She figures the radioactive things will take at least a night to catch up to them. They have time for jokes.

“No, but we do run out of power.”

“Oh shit.”

“I did not anticipate having to do so much work,” Lynne admits.

Myrha gets to her knees and takes a closer look at Lynne. She’s not sweating or out of breath; she doesn’t look tired or frazzled or like she’s been fighting and running from an evil radioactive army all night.

“So, what happens when you run out of power?”

Lynne gives her an ‘are you an idiot’ stare.

“Right. Dumb question. You just like, shutdown?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t like, die or anything?”

Lynne looks at her with sympathy and Myrha bristles because it’s not like she’s worried, she’s just…concerned. Curious. Whatever.

“I would simply need a charger to reanimate.”

Charger. Great. The thing they don’t have.

“So basically, after you shutdown, I’m going to have to lug your body around until I find a charger?”

“Lug me…? You will not lug me anywhere. You will leave me here and find means of survival or escape.”

“You want me to just leave you at the mercy of those things?”

That does not sound cool to Myrha. Not fucking cool at all.

“I’m sure they will leave me be. They seem compelled only towards human flesh.”

But Myrha doesn’t like the idea of leaving Lynne lying in a cave forever, uncharged and dead to the passing of time. Myrha scoots closer and presses their sides together.

“I never thought this is how I’d be spending my vacation,” Myrha says.

“Of all of the disasters that could befall a Starline flight, this is something I never considered.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy.”

And Myrha figures they’re about to die, so she gives in and lays her head on Lynne’s shoulder. She just sort of wants to cling to her.

“I also never predicted I would share a bed with a human,” Lynne says.

“Yeah? I never thought I’d share a bed with an android, so I guess we’re even.”

“I never thought I’d ever have cause to lie in a bed at all.”

“Well, I never thought I’d have cause to invite an android in my bed. And then not have sex.”

Lynne doesn’t respond.

“I mean, that’s not a bad thing,” Myrha says quickly, “that’s actually sort of an accomplishment for me.”

“You’ve engaged in a lot of sexual intercourse.”

Lynne is so jealous.

Totally and completely jealous.

Myrha tries to play it off, “Well, yeah. Not that it meant anything.”

“So, you frequently engaged in anonymous, meaningless sex? Why?”

Myrha’s never justified her behavior to anybody, but she shrugs and answers, “What else is there?”

“You don’t believe…how do humans phrase it...you don’t believe in love?”

She has her ‘science voice’ on again, but Myrha thinks she can sense something else, something in the fragile way she says ‘love’.

“I don’t think of love as a belief. It’s more of a…state of mind.”

“So, you don’t debate its existence.”

“It’s not some sort of mythological creature. I know it exists, but it’s not like a destination, it’s something one can experience.”

“You haven’t experienced it?”

“No, and I hope not to.”

“Are you afraid of it?”

Yes, Myrha thinks as she snuggles against Lynne’s shoulder. She’s afraid of what love will do to her.

“The only thing I’m possibly more afraid is an evil radioactive army.”

“I see.”

Lynne plays with the edge of Myrha’s jacket, an oddly human gesture.

“They are not evil or radioactive,” Lynne corrects, “they are contaminated with a substance.”

“A substance that makes them mindless except for the desire to kill living beings.”

“Yes, like in a horror story.”

“Yeah, they’re kind of like…zombies.”

“Zombies?”

“Yeah,” Myrha grins so hard her cheeks hurt, “zombies in space.”

“This thought amuses you.”

“In a very morbid fashion.”

“I am not amused, morbidly or otherwise.”

Lynne’s voice is distinctly sour.

And Myrha thinks that she isn’t really, either. She slides her arms around Lynne and gives up and clings. Lynne rests her cheek on the top of Myrha’s head.

It’s a beautiful night, muggy and warm, and a gentle breeze rolls through the cave. Not exactly weather that screams ‘zombie apocalypse’. The light from the distant moons and stars falls at the edge of the cave’s mouth. She sniffles a little and wonders if one of those bright dots is Earth’s Sun.

“I must go to the stars again, to the lonely constellations in the sky,” Lynne says softly.

She doesn’t continue. Myrha wets her throat a little.

“And all I ask is a clear night and a prayer to get me by,” Myrha says.

“And a good wind and a glowing moon and a finely tuned motor.”

“And a last kiss from a pretty girl for this wayward boater.”

Lynne shifts against her slightly.

“I find it interesting,” she says, “that the last thing Turobeck would ask for before exploring, is human contact.”

“I thought it just meant he was looking for a little pleasure before setting off for months on his own, you know?”

“I would not know,” Lynne says slowly, carefully, “I have never experienced physical pleasure.”

Myrha wants to sit up, to look into Lynne’s eyes and see if she’s telling the truth, but she’s too comfortable clinging.

“So you mean you don’t have…?”

“I am not a pleasure droid,” she says, “having genitals would be…illogical.”

“Then you haven’t – you’ve at least kissed, right?”

“No,” Lynne sits up straight, voice attentive, “I have not.”

Myrha’s face warms and she also sits up, slowly, nose just a hairsbreadth away from Lynne’s chin.

“Oh.”

She’s never kissed an android before. Really, it’s one of the few things she hasn’t tried. Lynne sits there, patient and silent, until Myrha can meet her eyes, can see that she wants this.

Lynne’s eyes are green.

That’s all she really has a chance to see before Lynne leans in very close. She waits there, frozen, like she knows how this dance is supposed to go, but never learned all the steps. Myrha, a veteran, decides to help her out. She gently tilts Lynne’s chin, to get their noses out of the way…and kisses her.

Her skin is different. It’s soft and dry and cool. There’s no heat, sweat or saliva. She has a tongue. It simply feels like rubber. It’s nothing like Myrha’s ever experienced. It should be like kissing a very silky calculator.

Myrha pulls back, and it’s her own spit that dots Lynne’s lips, and there’s no hot breath on her face, but Lynne’s looking at her and her lips are moving, as if testing out kissing maneuvers.

It’s a little funny.

Lynne gives her a calculating look, but she’s not computing numbers, and Myrha feels a flare of heat because that is one damn sexy look. This is nothing like kissing a calculator.

“I think I understand how it’s supposed to work now,” Lynne says and then leans forward, “let us try again.”

Myrha lets Lynne take her mouth, cool tongue plunging inside and sweeping her mouth as if tasting it. Lynne can’t taste, but Lynne doesn’t really taste like anything, so she supposes they’re even. Myrha grasps Lynne’s arms and pulls her closer and gets a lapful of android and thinks of all the things Lynne doesn’t have and can’t experience. She’s intelligent. She’s gorgeous. She’s willful and adventurous. But some horny scientist who heard from the advertising team that sex sells designed her as a glorified piece of eye-candy, and never bothered to give her the ability to experience sex for herself. It’s so fucking shallow.

Myrha wraps her hands in Lynne’s hair and is determined to make it good for her. One doesn’t need dedicated sex organs to have a good time…no, a fucking fantastic time. She’s going to blow this android’s circuits. With her tongue she feels out Lynne’s mouth until it is wet with Myrha’s own saliva, and then rubs her tongue against Lynne’s teeth and the roof of her mouth. Lynne shivers.

“I can register the sensation, the pressure. It sort of tingles,” Lynne says.

Myrha runs her fingertips very lightly over Lynne’s arms, up her neck and finally over her cheeks. Lynne strains forward as to chase the sensation, to fully experience it and analyze it. Myrha brushes against her sculpted nose and over her pink lips. Then, she grins and locks eyes with Lynne. With her tongue, she traces the path her fingers made.

“I like that,” Lynne says immediately.

Myrha giggles breathlessly, pleased. Lynne, like the learning and adapting android she is, takes the opportunity to give Myrha a kiss, sweeping her tongue against Myrha’s. Myrha is the one who shivers.

“I like that,” Lynne says again, quieter.

“Me too.”

Her throat is a little clogged. Shit. She’s an interstellar playgirl, but it still feels like too much too fast. She’s very sure she’s never felt so much during sex before. Surely, surely, surely she can’t be having feelings for an android.

Lynne tangles their fingers together, initiating a new kind of contact, and Myrha’s thoughts are becoming all jumbled.

“May I touch you elsewhere?” Lynne asks.

Myrha has difficulty swallowing as she imagines Lynne’s hands on her, touching her in intimate places and she wants, she wants so bad, and they’re probably going to die anyway. It wouldn’t mean anything.

Lynne patiently tucks a piece of hair behind Myrha’s ear, as if it was obscuring her view of Myrha’s face.

The little gesture makes Myrha weak in the knees. Fuck. It would mean everything.