“When Twin Orbs Collide” – Extract of a SL novel by Lady Heady Antfarm.
(Soon to be found at Grignano Books)
Commander Wrench gazed off into the infinites of his own space, the space around him being small and encased in metal and not worth a gaze. But the space beyond that space was infinite like the space inside him that he now gazed at. He was a troubled man and he knew it. The space he gazed into seemed small and constraining, and not at all infinite any more and that troubled him all the same.
“Commander?” squawked Torque the ships main service droid, “You seem troubled and I can tell from your broad, strong, rippling shoulders that something is troubling you.”
Wrench turned from the wall unit he had been facing and looked at Torque instead. He couldn’t help think that she was a far better view than the wall unit and he allowed his eyes to follow the curves and lines of her robotic body like two drunken skiers tumbling into the valley between her lovely, pert K2s. He felt his flight suit tighten as if his hips were coming out of a 10G loop-the-loop and looking to punch through some likely looking barn doors. “Down Big Guy,” he mistakenly said out loud.
“Commander?” beeped Torque milliseconds before the bio-information from the flightsuit’s stress gusset informed her of his reaction to her twin presences. “Ooo, why Commander…” she then purred and popped her eyestalks out for a better look.
“Oh… Oh God. I’m sorry Torque. I… I just… I mean I’m your Commander and the leader of this mission to impregnate the Co-Ed Nebular with the JockSeed1 pod. Failure is non-imaginable, even by one single degree or a near miss. And yet here am I contemplating how my flightsuit feels when you are around. I was contemplating it a lot last night. And the night before. I feel I may drive myself insane and maybe even blind with all my long contemplations!”
“But Commander, you shouldn’t have to wrestle with such a weighty thing on your own,” Torque used her wifi connection to dim the lights but the signal was weak so she used her hand instead. She slid her other hand across her metallic breasts and gently tweaked a chrome-plated nipple to activate a vintage Barry White MP3 she had been storing for just this occasion. “You never have to do anything alone when you have me to lend a hand. Or a service duct…”
Wrench’s flightsuit gave up and his biplane of desire exploded out of its hanger, eager to get back to some real barnstorming rather than the endless practice runs of late.
“Ooo Commander!” popped Torque and trundled towards the log-in of a lifetime.
Meanwhile, air began to hiss from the crack in the plexisteelforcewinsheildow caused by a shard of stray zipper…