Things were starting to settle down a little in the small lifeboat. The moments of sheer panic as air whistled out into vacuum and the wailing of alarms became attenuated by lack of atmosphere had given way to the shaky relief of relative safety. It seemed that only the two of them had managed to make their way to the boat bay as the ship shook itself to pieces around them.

Sam looked over at Henry taking readings to make certain that what they suspected was true. Two hours had been enough time to realize that they were well and truly stuck but Henry wouldn’t accept it until he had worked out just exactly how badly screwed they were and in what specific ways. They both knew the answers but apparently it took Henry’s mind off of the situation to get lost in its minutia.

“Well, we got nothing for subspace coms. The radio beacon is working fine but it’ll be 200 years before anybody hears it. No subspace engines on this tub, but we’ll never run out of power and the holoenvironment and replicators are top of the line.” He turned to Sam with a wry grin “Dude, looks like you and me get a long vacation in total comfort!”.

Sam snorted. “Hey man, at least I got stuck here with you. I mean, I think if it’d been Velasquez I’d have just offed myself. A nastier asshole was never born, least not that I’ve met. I mean what was his malfunction anyway? Man, that’s one guy I will not miss.” He focused on his display for a moment, intent on something. “Dude, I just found and disabled the narcotics controls on the replicators.”

“Well then, since there’s nothing really to be done for a while, I can’t wait to have some real booze instead of that damn synthahol. Whaddya think, Scotch?” Henry spun in his chair and stood, walking into the back of the small ship. A moment with the replicators and he held a decanter filled with amber liquid and two rocks glasses. “Computer, I need a pool table and some comfortable chairs.”

The requested items faded into existence and Henry sat pouring out large measures into both glasses. Sam finished triple checking their course, then joined him. They both raised their glasses. “Here’s to our crewmates, I never met a finer batch. We’ll remember them always” Henry voiced his agreement and they clinked glasses, taking deep sips of sighing as the liquor burned its way down their throats.

“Damn that’s smooth. I always wondered what 150 year old Scotch would taste like. Hey, we gotta have something to smoke with stuff this good, dude. How bout a cigar?” Henry walked back over to the replicators and returned with 2 large cigars. His jaw dropped when he saw Sam sitting there with a very nice humidor and sitting between the two chairs, a hookah. “What the fuck?”

“Dude, you gotta learn how to live in a holoenvironment. No point in going over to the replicator when you’re essentially sitting in one. Now put that nasty Cuban thing down and taste a decent cigar. Dominicans are way better.”

That started a friendly argument which lasted through a full decanter of the Scotch and several restockings of the hookah bowl. Somewhere in the middle of the third decanter, talk turned to old girlfriends. More specifically, Henry’s old girlfriends Sam kept quiet on that front while Henry rambled on (by this time, quite drunkenly) about some girl he’d once spent a 3 month shore leave with on Utopia Planetia.

Sam kept quiet because he didn’t have any old girlfriends to talk about. He’d never wanted to be with a woman that way, but he put on a good front. He looked at pretty women certainly, but more with envy than desire. In most of human space this wasn’t an issue, but Sam had wound up on freight runs to the back of nowhere and sometimes the kind of people who were willing to crew such ships had problems with that kind of thing. So Sam had hidden himself from people like Velaquez, going along just to fit in and not raise suspicion.

By the time he drained the last drop from the fourth decanter, Henry had passed out and Sam had made up his mind. He wasn’t going to hide anymore. With that determination in his mind he weaved over to the pool table and stretched out on it face up. “Computer, autodoc please.” The pool table faded out to be replaced by a bed surrounded with medical instruments. “Computer, initiate full genetic sex change, male to female.”

“Process will require 3 months, beginning treatment now.” The computer replied. Sam passed out drunk and lay there as the autodoc began analyzing his body and preparing the first dose of medication. If it had been programmed to do that, it would have clucked disapprovingly at the level of alcohol in his blood, but it wasn’t so it simply administered an antidote.

By the time Henry awoke with a nasty hangover Sam had already gotten up and had a shower, then called up a holoenvironment of a beach complete with crashing waves. Henry cracked an eyelid open and decided that light was not a good thing. Neither was that pounding noise that made his skull feel like it was going to split open. He wordlessly took the glass Sam handed him and chugged it down, then waited for a moment while he fought the urge to barf up his shoes. He knew all about Sam’s hangover cure and knew it worked wonders, but the first couple of minutes were always torture.

Once his stomach settled, he was ready to face the world, but food was needed first and they both indulged with gusto in a large breakfast of steak and eggs. After soaking in the sun while waiting the required hour, they both changed to board shorts and spent the rest of the day riding nearly perfect waves. They spent the evening watching vids, drinking and smoking. Some variation on that became the routine for them over the next few days. There was nothing else to do, after all, so they might as well enjoy themselves.

It was almost 2 weeks before either of them noticed anything different. They were both becoming toned and taut from all the physical activity, but where Henry was gaining muscle mass, Sam was losing bulk. By the third week, Henry was teasing Sam about his chest getting flabby. At the end of the fourth week, Sam decided it was time to tell him what was going on, especially since his breasts had started to grow rapidly.

Henry was stunned and withdrew for several days, but soon was back to his old self. He found it very strange to watch his best friend turn slowly into a woman before his eyes. It was a real shock to him when he realized he was thinking of her as attractive. They became intimate before her transition was even halfway through, when he could still see some of his old friend in her face, and fell madly in love with each other.

200 years later

Captain Harris had read through the logs of the lifeboat, telling a story of two long and relatively happy lives spent almost entirely aboard a small ship and the love they shared. Now she was at the final entry.

The voice of an old woman was quiet. “Henry died today. It has been a great 80 years together and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. He told me he loved me and then just didn’t breathe in again. I’ve cried for a while and now I’m going to join him. Whoever finds this, please make sure we are buried on Earth. Goodbye.”