"They
called their planet Nibiru and yours they called Tiamot. When the two worlds collided
in their orbits, most of Tiamot was destroyed and the Earth was born of its
remains. The asteroids which plague us, even now, are the left over pieces of
its shattered half."
Lord Kelnor Din, "Legacy of the Obolids",
Chronicles of the Visitor, 2382 TS
CHAPTER II
Neila slipped out of
the bland khaki uniform and into a cool white jump suit. She secured her shoes
with the Velcro fasteners and set out for a long jog on the 10k-alumaturf
track. She was strikingly beautiful on the track with her long wavy walnut mane
flowing behind her olive bronzed skin glistening with a dewy layer of sweat
under the contrast of white. Her eyes were enormous; clear, alert and a
brilliant shade of green. Her cheeks glowed with a slight flush from the
exertion and her lips were full, moist and slightly pursed to exhale.
As her body settled
into the easy rhythm of the run the effect on psyche was hypnotic. In this
relaxed state, she could ponder problems and sort out issues from a less
subjective vantage point. She could better identify the parts that were
important and separate them from the parts that were emotional. It was a
technique she'd learned as a very child when she first learned of the death of
her mother.
The problem uppermost
in her thoughts lately centered on her relationship with her CO. Looking at
John from an objective stance had grown more and more impossible through the
months. When she was alone she could be rational, but the bond between them
prevented her from maintaining that rational objective when they were together.
He was her first lover and the animal lust for him was overpowering when he was
there. As soon as he came within arms reach, she knew she would submit to the
lust and leave the rationality on the jogging track. Half way through the run,
she gave up on the idea of the sorting out the problem and allowed herself to
relive their first meeting, instead.
It was on her first
excursion to the planet surface. He was a squad leader for the security team
and piloted the shuttle for the Extra Stellar Research Team. The attraction was
immediate, intense, and quite mutual. He stood something over six feet and bore
a lean muscular physique under the skin like flight suit. She remembered she
had never before experienced hormonal bombardments and the sensation was
frightening, confusing, and exciting all at the same time. She didn't know what
to do or how to handle it, so she tried to ignore him and avoid eye contact in
hopes that it would be discouraging and allow her to focus on her work. But he
was not so inclined to ignore the drive and tried everything he could think of
the get her attention. When he wouldn't take the hint, she resorted to
belittling him and throwing hurtful words at him to drive him away. Then she'd
go off and try to figure out why she being so cruel. He'd eventually toned down
the pursuit, taking on a nonchalance to cover the embarrassment; but to her
dismay his altered attitude did nothing to quell the butterflies that tickled
her tummy whenever he was around. In fact, it made it worse. Now the
butterflies fluttered when he was no where near her; when the sound of his
voice or shape of his face would invade her thoughts uninvited. It was
beginning to interfere with her concentration and she thought her work might be
suffering. She remembered the expression on Joe Thompson's face the time she
suddenly dropped a specimen they were analyzing and grabbed at the tickle in
her tummy. He thought she was having an adverse reaction to the bacteria they'd
extracted from the specimen. Her face had flushed bright red and he was
determined to shoot her up with a strong antibiotic. The more he insisted the
redder her face grew, as she fought to avoid telling him that she just had the
hots for their pilot.
Suddenly, her daydream
was interrupted temporarily. She'd caught a glimpse of people looking at her
oddly and realized she had been laughing out loud for no apparent reason.
Embarrassed by the faux pas, she feigned a weak smile and trotted past the on
lookers. After a few paces, she returned to her dream.
They were so young,
she thought, and in spite of his cocky self-confidence, she remembered how
vulnerable he really was to her insults. She had been so cruel, omitting no
opportunity to insult and degrade him, especially when she wanted him the most.
She knew her digs had
cut deeper than she'd intended, but she felt so out of control. Both wanting
his attentions and rejecting them at the same time. She wondered if her
reactions were at all normal for sixteen year old girls with normal hormones.
She recalled the guilt she felt for her conduct the feeble attempt she'd made
to apologize for her behavior. "Perhaps we'll meet again," she'd told
him as they were departing the shuttles. "Someday, when we've both matured
and my work is no longer so important to me. Good bye, Lt. Decker."
An aching in her knees
dragged her away from her thoughts this time, and told her it was time to stop
running. She greeted acquaintances as she made her way to the locker room,
where she pealed off the sweaty jumpsuit and wrapped a plush Turkish towel
around her naked body. Wrapping her hair into a loose bun on top of her head,
she stopped in a solar cell for two-minute sunning. She didn't bother to
replace the towel for the short walk to the Jacuzzi, but tossed it on the deck
as she stepped down into the warm swirling waters.
The soreness in her
knees began to dissolve as soon as she positioned her head in the padded
support and allowed her body to float suspended. The lull of the rhythm of the
water jets and the relaxing warmth penetrating every inch of aching muscle
lured her back the past, and her second encounter with the former pilot.
It was her first day
at Security Central. Her quad was a short walk to the trams which shuttled city
passengers through the Star City V complex. It was a notoriously prompt
commuter system and at precisely
She arrived on the
station only to find that there was no one available to escort her to her post.
She was immediately lost and wasted several exasperating minutes following
confusing halls and unmarked passageways. She walked into walls she'd expected
to open and fell through the ones she'd thought were solid. It was through an
unmarked wall that she fell right into the arms of a very grown up and filled
out John Decker.
She quickly wriggled
free of his grasp and tipping her head back, discovered whose arms she'd fallen
into. Two amused hazel gray eyes twinkled down at her and the old warm of long
forgotten butterflies attacked her abdomen. Se remembered feeling lost and very
weak in those eyes - and knowing she was in trouble, again.
"Care to dance,
Ms. Winter?" His voice was deeper and more confident than she had
remembered it and his overall confirmation was bigger and more solid.
She was not amused by
the jest and felt that unexplainable need to repel him creeping up from her
solar plexus. "No," she replied flatly. "Where the hell is
Dispatch Headquarters on this tin can, anyway?" she demanded. "Who's
the idiot in charge of this dump? Don't you people believe in signs?"
The amusement suddenly
vanished from his eyes, taking on the color of cold steel. "Welcome to Tin
Can Headquarters, Miss Winters," he growled. "I am the Commanding
Idiot in charge of this dump."
"How nice for
you," she said with a sickly grin. He stepped aside slightly, leaving her
a very narrow opening for her to slip through sideways. She quickly did so and
all but pounced on the empty console. She worked her entire shift under his
piercing glares. When they broke shift for short break, Max told her he never
stayed to orient a new trainee personally before. "He's too demanding and
impatient. Nobody wants to come back after first break."
Being stubborn by
nature, that piece of news managed to inspire a new resolve in her; and she
felt determined to stand up to any insults he threw at her. She held her
dignity up under every humiliating bow he could dish out, and even managed to
return fire from time to time. She spent her breaks with the computer, gleaning
every piece of information she could about the workings of post. After two days
she'd become proficient in most aspects of her duties, and though she no longer
required close supervision, he continued to hover over her. She gave him very
few opportunities to pounce on mistakes, so for the next nine days they stole
glances, averted eye contact, batted butterflies, and made each others life as
miserable as possible.
On the last day of her
workweek, a small meteor shower had passed very close to several satellites in
one of her sectors. The shower was close enough to require a shift in the obit
lane of two satellites until it passes. Star City VI was struck before it could
be moved and the solar sails that powered the gyro were destroyed. The entire
population was evacuated to Cities V and VII while the sails were being
replaced. It required several hours of intense concentration for her, and John
sat next to her the entire time. His command and technical skills were flawless
and absolutely perfect. He embodied a masterful display of calm control and
extreme patience, even when she'd made a critical error which could have been
disastrous had he not been there to rescue her. When it was over, she felt
overcome with a profound respect for the awesome responsibility of the security
teams and the man who commanded them. She looked directly in his eyes, dying to
say what was on her mind, but too timid let it happen. John must have read her
thoughts, because his face suddenly flushed pink just before he retreated to
his office.
Max saw the moment and
snickered, "I don't think you'll have to worry about him bugging you
anymore."
"Why do you say
that?"
He smiled and turned
back to his console. "Because he's hooked," he muttered under his
breath.
Neila's report seemed
to take forever to complete. Since the incident was a new experience, she had
to refer back to training manuals for terminology and protocol. By the time she
finished and ran to the docking bay, she found that the hopper was long gone.
John was just
preparing leave for Star City VI when she burst into docking and raced to the
hopper platform. He watched her look around, scratch her head and try to figure
out how she was going to get home. He scratched his nose and just watched her
for a few minutes, then slipped his hands into his pockets and strolled over to
where she stood. "You planning to pull a triple tonight, Miss
Winters?" he asked.
"Not
hardly."
"Well, what are
you planning to do for the rest of the night?"
"Go home and
sleep. What else?"
"Oh. How are you
planning to get there?"
"On the next
hopper."
"That might be a
long wait."
"Why?"
"Because the next
hopper won't show up till tomorrow. When you report for duty. Only civilians
use them, and they all work your shift."
"There's good
news," she exaggerated. "The perfect end to a perfectly crappy
day."
"Come on, I'll
give you a lift home," he offered. She didn't refuse the offer right off,
but did hesitate to accept it. "Oh, come on. I promise I won't bight you
before we dock."
"That's not
exactly what worries me," she said, looking around the bay for some other
alternative.
"It'll be
okay," he softly. "I promise."
With one last look
around, she sucked in a deep breath and blew it out deliberately through tight
lips. "I guess it'll be all right."
She climbed into the
copilot's seat and John helped her with the launch restraints before taking the
controls. "You’re lucky I was still here," he told her. "I don't
normally hang around this late."
"You live off
base? I thought security officers had to live on site."
"My mother lives on
VI, I check up on her everyday."
"I hope she
wasn't too frightened by the evacuation."
No way, she's been
through too many of them. She keeps a bag stashed in the bathroom. Always
packed and ready to go. I sent Stringer out to pick her up. She was drinking
brandy with my sister on III before you moved your first station."
"I see."
They sat in silence during the launch and remained that well into the orbiting
lane, until the silence started to feel a little thick and a lot uncomfortable.
Then they both tried breaking it at the same time. The awkward exchange made
them laugh nervously, until John offered to let Neila talk first. "You
were really very good, today," she said shyly. "Easy to work with.
Patient. You're very impressive when the heats on."
He looked away to
control the blush and said, "Everything went smooth, that's all. I'm still
a real bastard when it doesn't."
"But it wasn't
smooth at all. I nearly lost VI," she reminded him.
"You recovered
it. You didn't panic or freeze up like most trainees do when they're in
trouble, and you knew when to ask for help. You followed my instructions,
didn't argue and didn't make lame excuses. That's what made it smooth and
easy," he assured her. "You did all right. Very professional."
"I think I was
just trying to keep up with you," she smiled.
They spent the next
hour catching up on each other's lives since their last encounter so many years
before. John talked about his advancements through the ranks and Neila told him
about her research. They laugh at themselves for being so serious and
remembered the friends they'd made on the expedition. Eventually the
conversation came round to Neila's attitude. " . . . I had to be rude to
you," she confessed. "You were in the way. I couldn't concentrate when
you were around."
His face wore his
confusion and astonishment. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to say you like
me?"
"Well . . . yes .
. ." she stammered, "kinda, sorta."
“‘Kinda, sorta?'"
"Well, I was only
sixteen years old back the. How the hell would I know? I had nothing to compare
it to."
"You actually
liked me," he chuckled to himself, seeming to ignore the answer to his
question."
"Now don't go and
made it into a big deal," she warned. "I was a child, easily
influenced and very naive. I never even met a man under forty. You can't take
the irrational emotions of an adolescent seriously, they're too . . .
irrational. That's why they call it a crush." She wanted to say more, but
he had cupped her face in his hands and was planting a very tender kiss on her
lips.
It was a good kiss.
Her first, actually. Long and soft, the way a first kiss should be. It made her
feel a little dizzy, even, and she caught herself swooning in his arms. He
finally pulled away and it took a moment for her to realize that the kiss was
over, because she could still feel it on her lips. He watched her slowly open
her eyes and recover from the sensation. "I liked you, too," he
confided. "Do you think we can stop playing this hide and seek game now
and get into a serious romance with sex and everything?"
"I don't know,
John," she said thoughtfully.
"You don't
know?"
"I don't know if
I can come up with any more excuses since I got fired."
"Good," he
whispered. Then he flipped on the navicom and kissed her again.
She woke up in the
swirling waters, with that kiss still tingling on her lips.
That night, John sat
in Neila's quad on the overstuffed semicircular sofa with both arms stretched
out along the back of it and his legs loosely crossed. He was feeling very
relaxed after the filling meal she'd served, aided considerably by the wine and
brandy he'd brought. Neila stood across from him desperately trying to explain
the mountain of confused feelings she was having about him. Unfortunately, he
was having more trouble with his comprehension than usual. Between the brandy,
the sheerness of her caftan, and the two candle lights shining through it from
the mantle behind her, all he could focus on was the intriguing silhouette of
curves. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, buy kept drifting down to the other
area. He knew that what she was telling him was important to her; but the more
he emptied the glass, the more that caftan etched away his concentration.
Suddenly, she thrust both arms up into the aid, did an about face and stood
with her back to him. "I give up," she said, which seemed to
effectively snap him out of his daydream.
He quickly scoured his
foggy brain, for a replay of her words. What had she said? Why was she upset?
Oh, shit. When in doubt - bail out. Right? Right. "Look," he began
defensively, "What do you want out me?"
"I want you to
stop treating me like some kind of morbid trophy you show off whenever there's
and audience."
"You're
exaggerating."
"Exaggerating!"
she said, spinning around to face him head on. "Exaggerating? What about
what happened today?"
"Today? I don't
know, what happened?"
"What happened?
You told two shifts that you expected to get laid at
He frowned as he
thought back. "Ah, nobody thought . . . well . . . I didn't mean to. Wait
a minute, I never said that."
"Oh really. Then
you tell me what you by 'wear something sexy.'"
He struggled to think
of a comeback for that one. He feared she could even be right about the trophy
bit. "Well it's no secret we spend a lot of time together. We're a couple.
We're supposed to have sex," he rationalized. "We are a couple,
aren't we?" She turned her back to him, again, and he felt the sudden
sting of insecurity pinch him in the heart. He drained his glass and planting
both feet flat on the floor, leaned his elbows on his knees. "Are we still
a couple?"
The question had a
disturbing ring of insecurity that gnawed away at her self-confidence.
"It's just that you seem to have forgotten my feelings lately. A woman
likes to be invited, or at least asked. Women respect privacy and intimacy in a
relationship with a man. I do, anyway. But I can't take any relationship
seriously when it becomes subject to a popular opinion pole."
"All right, all
right. The next time I get horny, I'll ask for something sexy."
"I don't even
believe this. The man stands over six feet and the entire point still manages
to pass over his head."
He smiled as he stood
and crossed the floor to her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and
kissed the side of her neck. "I'm sorry I'm such an ass. I really don't
know the first thing about what women like, and I don't pretend to. The only
women I know are my mom, my sister, and the gals at the station. Mom's okay,
but those troopers are kind of rough." He paused to turn her around to
face him. "Don't you know that you've been on my mind since the first time
I laid eyes on you? When you said goodbye to me, that day on the platform, I
figured I'd never see you again. You left me feeling pretty discouraged about
my first infatuation with a woman. I guess I decided then that I wasn't going
to let anybody become that important to me again. I made a promise to myself,
and I stuck to it for years. I'd planned to keep it even when I saw your name
on the list of new recruits. I couldn't believe you were on it. When you fell
through that door and back into my life, I knew that, given half a chance, I'd
break that promise. I don't mean to put on display; but after all of the time
that's passed, I do think of you as a prize. A prize I thought I'd never have a
chance to win."
He cradled her face in
cupped hands and kissed her lips the same way he'd kissed them that first time
when they were alone in his craft. She instantly melted into his arms and
relish the sensation long after the kiss was done. "I do love the way you
kiss me."