The first time he did it, I swatted his hand away, but he’s bored and drawn to making fun of the guys through the vid screens like a little kid. He angles the stylus between Ansel’s legs and moves it slowly upward, mock-impaling him. So childish, but who am I kidding? I love his smile and the way he laughs, even when he’s pretending to f**k Ansel with the stylus.
On another screen, Paol pokes at a small puddle of that green s**t. It’s hot outside—the temperature gauge reads into the upper forties Celsius and the heat index is worse out here in the wastelands. The green scum looks iridescent in this weather, like insect wings, and heat waves radiate from the ship, filming the screens until it feels like we’re in an oven looking out.
Nearby, Jareth watches the captain, his gun aimed at the
