The Last Holidays

by Grover Young

  That had changed, which was why I was here on this table. Prometheus linked you with another 'you' in a universe that had real live superheroes, or so was the current theory at least. That explanation seemed to fit what facts we had. To change, you had to push that Q-Box button, but with time and practice, you could make yourself change without the button.

  What it did not do was affect your 'normal' body. However, my bald spot was gone and I'd lost so much weight I looked liked someone else. Perhaps that helped contribute to my looking younger instead of the ten years older and the extra pounds that had added. That did not account for me being able to keep up with guys in their twenties running one of the hardest obstacle courses in the world.

  The good news was my Skins would stop Doc's taser cold, that's if I had them on. Instead, I was in a very drafty paper hospital gown feeling just a mite vulnerable.

  “I have a theory,” he said, still looking more than a little demented despite his smile, “You're as healthy, no, more healthy than a horse. That's the problem.

  “This,” he waved the stun gun, “will either prove my theory or make me feel very bad as you flop on the table like a fish.”

  Lunging, his stun gun crackled again as the electricity arced between the electrodes.

  Gritting my teeth for the expected shock, I exhaled in relief as none came.

  “Very funny, Doc,” I glared at the scientist, “I really don't appreciate the prank.”

  The crackle, zap of the stun gun buzzed again.

  “And will you stop with that thing!” the sound was sending shivers up and down my spine.

  “Craig,” Doc directed rather softly, “look at your hands.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” I stared at him, still cross at the tasteless joke.

  He held up the inactive stun gun with a quirk of his bushy eyebrows.

  My mouth dropped open as I saw the electrical arc between my fingers.

  “Congratulations, Craig!” he grinned, while bouncing on his toes, “You're a superhero!”

  A half hour later I was still sitting on the table.

  “How could this happen, Doc?” I asked, “I thought this was impossible.”

  “It is,” he replied handing me a lollipop, “however, it's the only available explanation.”

  “Those scans and tests we did all came back with errors,” waving some X-rays in the air, he tossed them on his desk, “It was as if you were coated in lead or...”

  “I was absorbing the energy.” Just like Halcyon, went unsaid.

  “Precisely!” Doc grinned, “Which makes no sense given what we know, unless there are not two quantum patterns involved, but three!”

  “I thought my original pattern was over written by Halcyon's. It's not?” scratching my once bald spot, this was way over my head.

  “Perhaps that's what happened to the Sha'leians,” Doc said the Alien's name with relish. Being a man of science, he loved having the proper names and terms for stuff.

  “However,” He lectured, “our process simply forms a link where this,” he held up a Q-Box, “this is the switch that can open or close that circuit. That's why the Prometheus Gifted can change back and forth.

  “It is, I think, the superior, method,” he put his hand on my shoulder.

  Nodding, I agreed with him. Doc Schneider was the reason why I hadn't been pushed into a suicide mission at the very beginning. As a matter of fact, he bitterly protested the entire concept. At the same time, the government was full of very scared old men who did what they always did to the young in time of war. They sent them off to die.

  It was hard to protest too much when whole cities were getting flattened and casualties were in the millions, and that was just in the United States. World Wide, it'd hit the billion mark and was rising everyday from the Impact Winter alone, as well as continuing enemy action.

  Recently, Russia had taken one right on the chin. Dzerzhinsk, Russia had been hit by a nano-bombardment. The city had a history of being a center of chemical manufacture as well as, at least at one time, making chemical weapons. Unlike Japan, they hadn't been able to stop the attack which had left hundreds of thousands of people homeless in the middle of the bitterest winter in memory, as well as the huge economic loss.

  “So what is happening with me, Doc?” I asked him.

  “Mind you, this is only a guess,” he sat at his desk, “but I think the clue here is how different Halcyon is from you.”

  “How so?” I really wanted to get dressed, but I'd learned you couldn't rush Doc. Besides, I wanted to know what to expect, too.

  “I'm thinking that your original pattern has indeed been overwritten, but not by Halcyon's. The one we're seeing here is your double's before they became her.” He rubbed at his eyes.

  “I have no idea of how it was done,” Doc admitted, “Given the superhero thing perhaps it was magic or some kind of mad science. In some fashion, two patterns were pushed on top of each other and when we opened our link, that first pattern got pushed downstream, if you will, onto you.”

  “And the reason why I seem to be younger is because it’s been in a kind of stasis all this time?” I tried to follow his reasoning.

  “That is as good a guess as any of mine,” he smiled, “but you do know what this means, right?”

  I got that bad feeling as the glee in his eyes registered with my hind brain.

  “No, Doc.” Bracing myself for the bad news, I just had to ask, “What does it mean?”

  “It means we have to test both of your forms for powers!” He held up his stun gun again. “This is only the beginning!”

  I could only stare at him in horror, oh no!

  “Doc!” I screamed as the platform collapsed out from under my feet.

  “Note that Kingfisher can fly,” the Scientist told his assistant.

  I stared at the baseball pitching machine that was in the corner of the room I was told to report to.

  “Ah guys?” the door locked behind me.

  “Note that Kingfisher is vulnerable to blunt force trauma,” Dr. Schneider instructed.

  Feeling more than a little paranoid, I watched the departing Humvee throwing up a plume of snow in the crew's haste to leave my locale. Already feeling a little edgy because I was Halcyon for this test, I glanced down to make sure I wasn't standing in the middle of a bullseye or something.

  Snow flew up as a Sha'leian 'bot sat up abruptly where it'd been hidden revealing its plasma burners.

  “Note,” the Scientist observed the mushroom cloud as the blast wave from the concussion blast washed over them, “it's confirmed Halcyon can absorb and explosively release energy from a Sha'leian combat robot's short range energy weapons.”

  Macdill AFB

  “Stop fidgeting!” Sheila scolded as she adjusted the fabric.

  Staring straight ahead in the best 'guy at the urinal' tradition, I ignored what she was draping Halcyon in. I would rather be back at the snow covered sandy ranges at Camp MacKall being tortured in all kinds of demented ways by Doc Schneider and his cohorts.

  “You're acting as if I'm fitting you for a shroud,” she mocked glared at me, “It's only a dress!”

  “Only a dress,” I echoed, disgruntled, “in case you've missed it, I don't wear women's clothing!”

  “You run around in that skin tight catsuit and you don't have a problem with that.” She stuck some more pins in the cloth.

  “That's because it's my uniform,” I primly replied, “I have to wear it, but that doesn't mean I like it! There's a reason why I cover it up with my parka and gloves every chance I get.”

  “Okay,” She relented, “maybe I am being a pushy broad, but you have such a figure I couldn't wait to see you really dressed up.”

  “It's kinda my fault too,” I sighed, “I have a problem saying no to you. It does bother me because, while I do look like a living Barbie Doll, inside my head, I'm not.” I tapped my noggin.

  “However, if it makes you happy then I'm willing.” I tr
ied to graciously surrender.

  “But you're way out of your comfort zone,” Sheila continued for me.

  “At least, you're not trying to put me in heels!” I began, but stopped as she looked guiltily away.

  “Oh come on!” I protested looking at her standing on a stool just to get high enough to reach my shoulders, “I'm seven feet tall! Assuming you can even find a pair to fit me, I'll be almost two feet taller than you.”

  The little minx glanced knowingly at my chest, suggesting she knew exactly where her head would be in relation to me. My golden face blushed coppery as she smirked.

  What else could I do? I leaned forward and kissed her.

  It still amazes me that as tough as I am as Halcyon, my lips and err, other delicate parts are so sensitive. I might look like an animated golden statue, but everything works just as if I was made of flesh. Doc's tests proved that whatever my skin was made of, under magnification it appeared to be the same as the metal, gold.

  However, it was also alive, warm to the touch and, as Sheila had also proved, responsive. While I can honestly say I enjoy intimate relations with her more as Craig or under my new male codename of Kingfisher, Halcyon's sensations weren't bad either.

  I suppose how long our kiss lasted was proof of that.

  “Ouch!” Sheila broke off our lip-lock after sticking herself with one of the many pins holding this dress in progress together.

  It was my turn to smirk, since I was more or less completely safe from the hundreds of needle sharp pins, she'd been using to make this … clothing.

  Her smoldering stare promised I would either really regret that kiss or enjoy revenge way too much.

  “Heels,” she decreed, “definitely something sexy.”

  Sighing, I knew I'd been outmaneuvered yet again.

  On the other hand, I had something prepared for her, a surprise. It'd been great that Doc let me have a few days of leave so I could spend Christmas with her. With the extra time needed to set up more testing for both of 'me', I was set to join the first R course class at the beginning of the year.

  “Honestly Craig,” he told me, “having your two forms to compare against each other, we need time to design tests that can measure the differences as precisely as we can. We might not know what it means, but you're unique, and that alone makes the data invaluable.

  “So go!” He damn near pushed me onto the plane, “Enjoy the holidays with your girl. Just be ready for us to run you ragged when you get back. Between the new tests and starting classes, we're going to work you hard.”

  So here I am, getting fitted for a damn dress of all things. What's more, it's for a Christmas Ball that the Re-birthers had arranged. Remembering the days of their youth, they had set up an old fashioned dance, despite it lacking a big band.

  It'd begun as something smallish, but it'd grown like crazy as even the younger generations became interested. I suspected a large part was just wanting to celebrate life while War and death surrounded us.

  Sheila had talked me into this, but I was pretty sure she was making not one, but two outfits for Halcyon. One was for the dance, but the other was for Christmas Dinner which our Sha'leian, do I dare call them friends (?) are scheduled to attend.

  Thanksgiving had turned out surprisingly well. All I can say is that I have hope. With the early winter, warehoused food stocks were just about gone. Blue Soylent had shouldered the burden of feeding a large portion of the world. Considering some of the bio-matter that was going into the vats, the old 'Soylent Green is People', would be a step up, cannibalism taboo or not.

  Unfortunately, if it was her plan to put me in a dress for Christmas Dinner, I was going to have to say no. Practical considerations, such as being prepared to fight for our lives meant a more conservative attire. On the other hand, she would undoubtedly make me pay for that. Who knows, I might enjoy it!

  “Okay!” She announced cheerfully, “I'm finished. Let's get this off of you.”

  Carefully with her help and wiggling out of the imprisoning cloth and pins, I was free!

  That is until she ran her hands down my golden legs causing me to shiver, and it wasn't from the cold. The aggressor while I was Halcyon despite my height difference, she stood tiptoe on her stool to reach my lips. Together, we celebrated life in our own way.

  Well, I sighed, at least my feet didn't hurt. The evening hadn't been the ordeal I feared, mostly because Sheila and my friends helped make it an enjoyable experience. Perhaps I didn't do much in the way of dancing, but that had more than a little to do with being over seven feet tall in those 'sexy' shoes Sheila had made me wear.

  I'd learned she'd hit up one of those 3D printer shops just to get the damn things in my size. The rest was good old crafting gluing on rubber soles and putting in inner linings. That's why I said my feet didn't hurt since I'd cheated by using my flight to take up most of my weight.

  It was also cool to be able to catch up on stuff with Paul, Dave, Janice and Libby. Like most of the guys here, the gents were in uniforms with most the ladies wore dresses and gowns. Let's say it was just beyond strange to lump myself with the rest the girls.

  Of course, everyone had something to say about the gown Sheila made for me. The deep sapphire blue matched that of Halcyon's hair and the green accents really went well with my eyes, or so all the ladies said. Honestly, all I could say was it did look nice even if I did feel very much out of my element by an order of magnitude or two.

  It was all more of that dissociative thing again. Now, I guess, I was just better at handling it. That was a good thing since this was one of the very rare occasions I was Halcyon and didn't have my uniform Skins on. A five-eight guy in the dress and heels of a seven feet tall woman, just wouldn't be so pretty which meant freak outs and involuntary changes back weren't allowed!

  I also did my best not to think too much about the 'undies' I had on underneath. Never in a million years have I ever imagined having anything like 'these' things on me. A beautiful girl like Sheila in 'those' things had often graced my lonely bachelor dreams, but never ever me!

  So what surprises did she have waiting for me when we got back to her quarters?

  Lingerie!

  “I can't do this,” the whisper escaped me.

  “Yes, you can,” she breathed in my ear, “Let me show you.”

  Guiding me in front of a strategically placed mirror, Sheila's gentle hands sensually unzipped the back of the dress. Letting it fall to the floor as she hugged me, I learned a lot more about why women really liked those silky things.

  Waking up with her in my arms as the light came in through the curtains was a memory I tried my very best to burn into my brain. I'd changed back during the night. Even as unique as my case seemed to be, I couldn't stay changed all the time, but I was good for almost six hours now instead of just a couple. Doc had helped me a lot to get a handle on what I could and couldn't do despite his unconventional approach.

  Watching Sheila sleep in my arms, I was more and more coming to terms with the weirdness in my life. For all that aspects of Halcyon still alarmed the hell out of me, not all of being a living, golden statue was bad.

  “Merry Christmas,” she smiled looking up at me.

  “Merry Christmas,” I was lost – filled with all the things I felt for her.

  “I'm the luckiest girl in the whole world.” Sheila shifted in my arms as she pitched her voice high like Betty Boop's.

  “How's that?” I asked, enjoying the moment.

  “I get to go to bed with a beautiful woman and wake up in the strong arms of a man.” Her lips met mine making me the luckiest man alive.

  Much later we found ourselves at Dean's again. This time we weren't as quite loaded down with food, but we still had more than enough to feed everyone. From Sheila, I learned that he had far less trouble this time getting some kind of official sanction.

  The whole Alien Warfare Center had been pumping reports like crazy. They even correctly called the current lull in Sha'leian incursions.
Perhaps they did miss that Nano-bombing in Russia, but still it wasn't a bad call, since the report said no landings, but not so for all activity.

  I was personally hoping that the method the Japanese used to stop the attack on them would be shared with all nations. Then again, Russia was having to learn that the game had changed. No more could they count on their vicious winters to wear down their enemies. If they wanted help, they had to be willing to give aid to their neighbors without strings attached.

  Eventually, everyone would see the truth that a very smart man by the name of Benjamin Franklin once said, “We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately.”

  The world had never faced a threat like the Sha'leian Invasion. Even with casualties that numbered past a billion, there were still hold outs. Regional differences and old quarrels still ruled even as freezing cold blotted out the summer in the southern hemisphere. The question was, how bad did things have to get to make people put aside those old hates for the sake of all our survival?

  This time, I didn't need to do a walk-around security check, since Dean and Tamara were already here. Having help dragging in the groceries was nice. Okay, I did take a quick look around and check that the barn was clear enough to be used as hanger again.

  Everything was good with no surprises. However, what did astonish me was Dean meeting me on the way back from the barn.

  “I just wanted to talk to you.” He looked tired and had lost weight.

  “Sure,” I shrugged. It would take a lot to spoil my present mood. Sheila and I had done nothing, but give each other sappy smiles all day.

  “Just how bad are things, really?” Dean stared up at the snowy sky. It wasn't snowing hard, but it was snowing. The weather forecast called for significant accumulation, meaning we would be wise to leave early to be sure we could get back to base. Getting snowed in would not be good.