Edge of Tomorrow

by Wolf Wootan

“I’m glad you like her, General, because you are right: she is not like anyone I’ve known before, and I love her deeply. I’m going to ask her to marry me!” Hatch informed him.

  “You’re not! Well! You are! I guess it’s about time you found someone. She’s certainly a looker, too!”

  “Don’t say anything to Mom. Syd could very well turn me down, and I don’t want Mom getting all excited and then being let down,” replied Hatch, taking another puff off his cigar.

  “Why should she turn you down? You’re the richest fucking man in the world! And you have my good looks!” laughed the General, raising his wine glass in toast to Hatch.

  Hatch touched his glass to the General’s and answered, “Money doesn’t impress her. She believes in things like human values and honesty and love. I’m not sure I’ll measure up. She’s still trying to figure me out.”

  “Well, give her the hard sell, and I’m putting in my order for a grandson right now! I love my granddaughters, but I’d like to see the Lincoln name carried on,” ordered General Lincoln.

  “Don’t you dare say anything like that in front of Syd! We’ve never discussed how she feels about children,” snapped Hatch.

  “All right, all right! Go get her, son!”

  “Why don’t you go back in and stay with Mom and ask Syd to join me out here with her drink. I’ll do it now. I need her answer now!”

  The General went back inside and Syd wandered out with her Zorbatini in her hand.

  “What’s up, sweetie?” she smiled. “Need company while you finish that cigar?”

  “I always crave your company, cigar or no,” he smiled.

  “I like your parents. Your mother’s a doll. I see what you meant about your father, but I either tamed him or pissed him off. I’m not sure which,” she chortled. “Got a cigarette? I’ll have a couple of drags with you.”

  He gave her one and lit it for her, then clinked his glass against hers in a silent toast.

  “There’s something I’ve been dying to ask you ever since yesterday, but I wanted the atmosphere to be just right. Also, I thought it only fair that you meet some of my family, to put things in perspective,” he said, groping for words.

  “Whatever are you rambling about, Hatch?” she laughed. “Spit it out!”

  “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Syd. I think you feel the same way, don’t you?”

  “Of course, sweetheart! We said all that yesterday, but I don’t mind saying it again, and again,” she replied as she kissed his cheek.

  “Well, there’s only one proper way to do that, dear one.”

  He went down to one knee, peered up at her, and said solemnly, “Will you marry me, Syd? Please?”

  Syd went into shock! She had not seen it coming, even though she should have. Somehow, it had never entered her mind that he would make such a commitment so soon, if ever.

  “Are you serious, Hatch?” she gasped, nearly spilling her drink.

  “Very! I want you to be my wife!” he affirmed as he stood.

  “Have you thought this through? Your lawyers will have you committed! Marrying someone you’ve known less than a month! They’ll know I’m just some friggin’ gold digger!”

  “Fuck my lawyers!” he snapped as he put his hand on her shoulder. “My lawyers work for me! They do what I tell them, nothing more.”

  He sat his glass on the railing, than took hers and did the same with it. He snuffed out his cigar in a bucket of sand, then took her cigarette and crushed it out also. He then took her into his arms and kissed her gently on the lips.

  “I want to marry you, darling. Nothing else matters. Please say yes,” he whispered in her ear.

  Syd began thinking of all the reasons why this could not work, then her mind skipped to planning a wedding, then back again to the problems.

  “Screw it!” she finally blurted. “Screw the problems! Yes! I’ll marry you, Hatch! We’ll solve the problems together!”

  The next kiss was much more sensuous, tongues dueling.

  “Stop!” she sighed as his hand sought her breast. “This will get out of hand quickly! Let’s save it for our room—where we can do it right!”

  Hatch stepped back from her and laughed, “Thanks, Syd! I forgot where we were for a moment. I’m just too friggin’ happy! Let’s go tell your future in-laws!”

  “They’re not going to approve, are they?”

  “You’ll be surprised about that, I think. Why don’t we go and find out?”

  They returned to their seats at the round table inside and Hatch ordered two more double Zorbatinis and refreshed his parent’s snifters from the Metaxa bottle. The General raised an eyebrow at Hatch, who winked at him, and the old man smiled. When the drinks arrived, Hatch raised his glass.

  “A toast,” he said, “to Sydney Steppe, the woman I love!”

  They all clinked glasses, then took sips. Syd was actually radiant. Hatch retrieved the ring box from his pocket.

  “Mom, General. I have just asked this gorgeous woman to marry me and she has done me the honor of accepting my proposal!” Hatch announced proudly. He opened the box so they all could see the ring. Syd gasped when she saw it.

  Hatch continued, “I thought I would share with you the ceremony of placing this ring on Syd’s finger. I hope you like it, Syd! I tried not to be too ostentatious.”

  Syd was stunned by the size of the diamond and the beauty of the ring. She whispered, “Oh, my … God! It’s unbelievable!”

  “Congratulations!” boomed the General while Hatch placed the ring on Syd’s finger. It fit perfectly, since he had measured one of her dinner rings without her knowledge.

  Carrie had tears running down her face as she got up and went to Syd. Syd stood and they hugged, then Carrie hugged her son. When Papa Papa saw what was happening, he grinned and signaled the band to start up the song he had prearranged, just in case. Otus Andros played a lively melody, then began a raucous song about a woman losing her virginity to a handsome sailor. Fortunately, he sang it in Greek, so Syd never knew why all the regulars were clapping to the beat, looking at her, and laughing boisterously.

  At the conclusion of the song, the band switched melodies and several customers got up, put their arms on the shoulders of the people next to them, and began dancing the traditional Greek line dance, the hassapiko. The place was a madhouse of frivolity.

  “The ring is gorgeous, Hatch!” said Syd, holding her hand out so all of them could admire it. “You did good! Are you sure Mrs. C. didn’t pick this out for you?”

  “No, but I had the help of an excellent Greek jeweler.”

  The General chipped in, “You should have gotten her something bigger, Hatch! What are you saving your money for?”

  “She wouldn’t have worn anything much bigger, General.”

  “No, General,” cooed Syd, “this is at the outer limit as it is. But I think I’ll keep it!”

  She thought her fabulous bracelet paled by comparison. They all laughed and watched the dancers for a moment. When the line dance ended to much clapping, stomping, and whistling, the music changed to a slower, more sensual melody. Syd recognized it as the music from the scene in the movie The Greek Tycoon—or, at least, something very similar. A young couple in their early twenties—the woman could have been even younger than that—appeared on the dance floor and began a very sexy, slow dance—neither touching the other. The woman was three inches shorter than Syd, and wore an off-the-shoulder blouse pulled low to reveal cleavage, a skirt similar to the one Syd wore, and her red shoes had four-inch heels. Her legs were bare. The man wore a white shirt unbuttoned to the waist, tight black pants, and short black boots with two-inch heels.

  Hatch told Syd, “Those two are shills—professionals. The hunk is Papa’s cousin Orion Costi, and that hot girl is Orion’s wife Kyrie. Watch their moves closely so we can join in later—not the precise moves, but the style, the feeling, the responses. This is a variation of a passionate, sensual dance from Crete called the sousta. Kyrie
will become quite flirtatious as the dance heats up. As the customers pair off and join them, the plate breaking will begin. Papa makes a lot of money on plates. He puts them on the participants’ bill at three times what he pays for them. He buys them by the truckload!”

  “My God, they’re good! I suppose they’re on your payroll, too!” laughed Syd.

  “And worth every penny! Look! I haven’t quite mastered that move yet! He does it so well!” replied Hatch with enthusiasm.

  “Jeez, she’s inviting rape right there on the dance floor,” giggled Syd.

  “It looks too consensual to be rape!”

  The General was enjoying the dance immensely, while Carrie stared in astonishment at the sensual moves of the dancers.

  Syd leaned and whispered to Hatch, “I can tell you right now, Hatch Lincoln, that I will not do that dance in front of your parents!”

  He leered at her.

  • • •

  By 10:45 P.M., Carrie was yawning. The good food and more alcohol than usual had taken its toll on her. The General was still feeling good, and had even danced a regular two-step dance with his future daughter-in-law, but agreed it was time to let Carrie get some rest.

  Hatch said, “General, you can go back to the ship if you prefer, but Mom looks like she’s dead on her feet. Why don’t you two use the suite tonight. Save you a chopper ride in the middle of the night.”

  Carrie interjected, “That’s a good idea, Larry. I am very tired, and I threw a few things in my tote bag, just in case.”

  The General grumbled, “A conspiracy, huh? OK, dear, we’ll stay here.” He turned to Hatch and added, “I’ll see you two at 0600 for breakfast.”

  Syd saw the twinkle in his eye and knew he was ribbing them, but she replied with a laugh, “I don’t think so, General!”

  Carrie said, “He’s pulling your leg, dear. He never is up at 0600 anymore!”

  After many hugs all around, the General and Carrie left and headed to bed.

  “I like them, Hatch,” murmured Syd.

  “They like you, too, Syd. You have the General mesmerized. Just like his son! How do you do it?”

  “Just an overabundance of charm, I guess,” she giggled.

  There had been a turnover in the crowd. The real party animals began arriving around ten o’clock. The broken plates had been swept up, and it was time for Orion and Kyrie to work the new crowd and make more plate money for Papa Papa. Five couples joined them on the dance floor, and Syd thought it was beginning to look like a choreographed orgy.

  Hatch said, “My folks are gone now. Are we going to try this dance?”

  “Get us a bottle of white wine first, please. No more Zorbatinis for me. Let me watch some more.”

  A bottle of Amethystos fume—a Greek white wine by Lazariois—appeared at their table, and was poured by Papa Papa himself. The dancers were really heating up now and plates were breaking all over the dance floor. Syd watched Kyrie closely, etching her moves in her mind. She also noticed that Kyrie’s blouse was pulled down so far that the entire top half of her breasts was exposed. On some moves, Syd expected her breasts to pop out, or at least show some areola, but it never happened.

  How does she manage that? Special bra? No bra and tape or glue of some sort? Hmm.

  Syd pulled her own blouse down a little, exposing as much as she could without showing her white, strapless bra. It did not equal the exposure of Kyrie and some of the other women on the floor, but it was the best she could do. She wanted to be as sexy as she could for her new fiancé, but there were limits to where she would go.

  The dance ended and the floor was swept again; Syd and Hatch sipped their wine. Then Hatch motioned to Otus and the band began playing the slow, rhythmic melody from The Greek Tycoon again. Hatch took Syd’s hand and led her to the dance floor and—without touching her—began the slow mating dance. Syd began her moves, coy at first, then more flirtatious. Sounds of slow clapping to the music came from the crowd, and cries which sounded like “oh-paw” to Syd accented their moves. Nobody joined them on the floor, because Papa Papa had passed the word that this was their engagement dance. As the tempo slowly increased, and the two of them became immersed in the fervor of the dance, they saw only each other—they were in a universe by themselves. Syd was unaware of how much of her long, beautiful legs she was exposing as she swished and twirled and flipped her skirt. There was only Hatch, his eyes, the hypnotic dance. At the peak of the dance, the plate breaking began to increased shouts of “oh-paw.” Syd joined in on the plate throwing, as did Hatch, all in sync with the fervor of the dance and the urging of the crowd.

  When it ended, Syd was facing Hatch, staring into his hazel eyes. They still had not touched, but she felt as if he had ravaged her body, chewed on her nipples, kissed every inch of her body, and finally thrust himself inside her. She had never imagined such a thing was possible. She wondered how Kyrie could do the dance several times a night.

  The cheers and applause of the customers brought her out of her reverie. Her knees were weak, so she held onto Hatch’s arm as they returned to their table. She felt as if she had been dreaming, but she looked at the ring on her finger, touched it, and knew this was all real. She realized that the power of that dance was such that a virgin dancing with a stranger would lose her virginity without any resistance. What an aphrodisiac! Or was the love she felt for Hatch the real culprit? She did not care what the reason was—she was spent emotionally! And physically. She felt just like she did after experiencing an orgasm. She poured herself another glass of wine and swallowed all of it in an attempt to slake her thirst.

  “That was incredible, Hatch!” she gasped. “When Bob Kelly mentioned dancing a sexy dance with me in Greece, I never imagined I would be doing it with my fiancé! And how unbelievably sensual the dance would be!”

  “That seems like a lifetime ago. We’ve packed a lot into only a few days, haven’t we?”

  “This is like a fairy tale! I feel like I’m dreaming!” she exclaimed, still feeling weak from her dance experience.

  “The rest of our lives will be a fairy tale—together!” he whispered as he took her hand.

  • • •

  They retired to their suite at 1:04 A.M., bringing the bottle of Metaxa brandy with them, as well as two snifters. Hatch poured them each a nightcap.

  Syd giggled, “Now that we’re alone, I could slip out of this bra and pull my blouse lower for you!’

  “It wouldn’t be the same! Besides, I’ve had more than enough foreplay! How about we skip to the main course?”

  “So like a man! Why don’t you sing ‘Whatever Lola Wants’ while I do a striptease for you? Then we’ll celebrate our engagement properly!”

  • • •

  Syd was naked at the foot of Mt. Olympus. She was leaning over, bent at the waist, her hands on an ancient stone wall, supporting her as Hatch entered her from behind. Swirling winds blew gray and white mists around the top of the mountain, but Syd and Hatch were in a ray of sunlight, like a spotlight. She pushed herself back against Hatch with each of his thrusts: ecstasy! Then suddenly a roar came from the mountain top and the sun was blotted out, but the thrusting did not stop. She became chilled as the roar became a voice.

  “You walk on earth as a mortal, Hatch Lincoln, but you make decisions reserved to the Gods. I, Zeus, punish you now with the death of a mortal!”

  Lightening bolts began hitting the ground around them, spewing stones and debris against Syd’s naked body. Then, one of the thunderbolts hit Hatch and the power surged through his body, and because he was still coupled to her, into Syd’s body. Hatch fell to the ground and Syd stood, their connection broken. She faced the mountain top and felt empowered with unbelievable energy, her breasts taut—nearly solid—and her nipples were like spikes of steel. She began deflecting the thunderbolts away from them using her bracelet, like the comic book hero, Wonder Woman. She felt like a mother bear protecting her cub. The thunderbolts must not be allowed to strike Hatch!

>   Then, out of the swirling mist, came a rider on a pale horse. The rider was wearing a tattered gray shroud, and only his face was visible, and it was a white skull: Death was coming!

  “You can’t have him! He’s mine!” she screamed into the mist, but the rider continued down the slope, gray shroud flowing.

  Syd stood her ground, and using the diamond on her engagement ring, deflected the next lightening bolt into the rider. The rider disintegrated into gray dust, which was then swirled away by the roaring wind. Syd leapt upon the back of the horse. Her black hair came to the middle of her back, and it swirled around her, her only armor. She was a lethal Lady Godiva astride her pale pony, her personal Pegasus, and it flew her up the mountainside towards the angry Gods. She snatched a thunderbolt from the sky and fashioned it into a sword, more powerful than Excalibur, which she used to parry the incoming flaming bolts. As she reached the top of the mountain, the clouds thickened, the winds increased, the roar became deafening!

  “I will bring you down from your mountain and you will harm us no more!” she yelled at the top of her voice. “My sword is wrought from your own power, and will destroy you!”

  The voice roared back, “You will never reach me! I live on the edge of tomorrow! Always out of your reach!”

  Her pale Pegasus reared, and then she spurred it with her bare heels and disappeared into the morass, sword raised, a scream rising from deep within her!

  • • •

  Syd awoke with a start! Her nightgown was soaked in sweat and she was trembling. She looked for Hatch, and he was sleeping soundly in the bed, next to her. She got up and took off her gown and threw it on the floor, a sodden mass. She got one of Hatch’s cigarettes off the bedside table, lit it, and went out on the balcony to let the breeze cool her and dry her wet body. A deep drag on the cigarette calmed her nerves as the nicotine surged through her body. She wondered what her nightmare meant.

  I hardly ever remember my dreams, and never have nightmares! What is this all about? What a friggin’ mix of history! If that was Thor throwing those thunderbolts, he was Norse and didn’t belong on Mt. Olympus! But Zeus used thunderbolts, too, and he was Olympian. And Lady Godiva and Pegasus? Wow! Maybe it was something I ate!