Page 13 of Atlas: Colony: Nyx #5(Intergalactic Dating Agency)

THIRTEEN

Atlas groaned in relief as he stripped out of the envirosuit. Usually, he'd have put it straight in the sanitiser, but today he left it on the ground, beside the orchard door. He'd collect it on the way out, once he was done here. And after he'd dealt with his painful erection, the like of which he couldn't ever remembering experiencing except for that one time he'd gone to summer camp on Tito as a teenager. It had to be the girl. Hercules' farm girl waitress. Something about her had him panting worse than a cave yeti with solstice fever.

Wait, could it be solstice fever? Atlas racked his brains, but too much blood had flowed south for him to think properly. He'd check the planetary phase calendar in the morning. Right now, he had a meowl to feed.

As if responding to his silent call, Miranda the meowl appeared out of nowhere, as she always did, silent flight feathers marking her as the perfect hunter. Today her prey was the sashimi he'd conjured from the food fabricator, and if he wasn't careful, she'd perch on his arm and guzzle the whole plate down in seconds. Given her discovery this afternoon, she deserved every bite, but that didn't mean he should make it easy for her.

He tossed the first piece up high, and the meowl didn't miss a beat. Up she went, darting in over the peak of the morsel's flight before swooping in sideways to snag the piece of fish, swallowing it with two clacks of her beak. Then she chirped proudly, demanding another, flapping her wings in anticipation.

Atlas threw the second piece of fish right at her, knowing she wouldn't miss. She caught it in her talons this time, perching on an apple tree branch to devour it.

Atlas grinned, taking a moment to revel in the cool breeze circulating through the orchard. This was definitely better than the restrictive suit, or the crowded fever-heat of Metropolis City.

Which reminded him...Atlas stepped up to the door controls, and locked down the observatory. No one could get in or out, not even Hercules. No one was going to interrupt his observations this time.