Marry me, Thena, please.

I tried to sigh and would have managed it, had he left me enough air space. If he intended on kissing me like this a lot, I was going to need a nose-mask and oxygen tanks in the future.
Yes, I said reluctantly, I think I must.
It was perfectly clear to me that the poor man had become disturbed in his reason, and in those conditions it would be cruel and unfair to send him to space alone, much less when space had become so dangerous. I must marry him, just to make sure he stayed safe. It was the least I could do, since I was fairly sure I'd started him on this road by trying to garrotte him and reducing his supply of oxygen to the
brain.
Yes, yes, you must, he said. It gets very boring in the Cathouse, without anyone to kick me.
Poor man. Madder than a broomer hopped up on oblivium.

Sarah A. Hoyt