The frost at melted off the pod surprisingly quickly, the remaining condensation dripping and steaming away. Iain stepped back when the transparent covering slid up without warning, revealing the naked, mostly human looking woman, apparently none the worse for all the centuries she’d spent as a living popsicle.
She looked a little different defrosted. For one, she did have a somewhat more purplish hue to her skin than appeared the first time around, certainly not any skin tone he’d ever seen in real life. But maybe that meant she’d been picked up after people could change their skin color , or perhaps it was a complete body if light colored hemangioma. She did appear to have all the requisite human appearing parts, though.
Iain leaned over the rim to try and work out whether or not she was waking up as he had, was even breathing - alive. After a few moments, he did spot that she was breathing, her alluring chest rising up and down. Then he held his own breath as she took in a deep breath, stretched, and then opened her eyes wide. They were the most unexpected shade of bright yellow-orange.
The woman looked up at him, then at herself, and then her expression turned to one, not of fear or embarrassment, but of annoyance. The kind where you realize you’ve done something incredibly stupid, like say, woken up in an unfamiliar setting after a long night of drinking. It was expression Iain was all too sympathetic with.
“Yamulka!” she swore. It sounded like she meant it as a curse. “I hate it when this happens!”
She turned her gaze back on him.
“All right, what do you want?” she asked in a perturbed tone, pushing herself up on her elbows.
Iain was speechless. He hadn’t actually prepared anything to say for when she woke up.
“To wake you, free you?” she narrowed her orange eyed gaze at him, waiting for his response. “For company?”
Then she rolled her eyes, as if having determined his reasons weren't that noble. Well, she was right.
“Really, you abducted me for that?” She didn’t sound at all happy, but more resigned than angry.
“No…” Iain forced out. “I didn’t- I wasn’t the one that abducted you.”
He pointed up the bare metal ceiling with its tubes and conduits and harsh lighting.
“I think the ship did,” he explained. “It abducted me as well. It seems a little… off.”
The woman seemed to ponder that a moment, then nodded, and reached out a hand.
“Could you get me out of here, then?” she asked. “This metal is really cold. You think they’d for once design a cryopod for warm blooded beings.”
“I agree,” he told her, grasped her hand and helped her out of the capsule. Her hands were as cold as he expected but they didn’t feel as rigid as he as he was accustomed to where it came to human hands. No matter. She was up and talking and seemed friendly enough. Not to mention rather physically attractive and by her own admission, warm-blooded as well. That had to be good news.
That’s evolutionary biology for ya. But remember, almost twelve percent of consentient species practice some form of sexual cannibalism. Sure, they’re enticing, how better to get you close enough to eat ya alive!
Ian shook more nasty images out of his head. Tried. Damn parasites!
The woman cocked her head.
“You all right?” she asked.
“I’m good, perfectly fine. What’s your name?” he asked as she surveyed the compartment, looking left and right. Iain still had hold of her arms, and didn’t really want to let go. Her indigo shaded lips had a very alluring curve to them.
“Cygnus,” she replied holding his gaze again with those orange tinted eyes.
“Really?” he asked. The swan? Was this his brain parasites again, making things seem comfortable, familiar, even goofy?
“Really,” she replied, smiling. Her left cheek dimpled when she smiled. The dimple disappeared. She seemed confused. “Cygnus Phi, I think. No, no its Phi. Just a moment.”
She held up a hand.
“Okay,” she said, lowering the hand, forcing him to step away. “Mixed up the ordering for a moment. And you are?”
“Iain,” he replied. “Iain Compton.”
Cygnus offered him a puzzled look, narrowed her gaze at him as she appeared to examine his features.
“Really? Iain Compton? That? Is that the best you can come up with?”
