A Riddle For Love (Beyond Fairytales)

by Lara Nance

  The official made some additional entries. “I’ve forwarded your qualifications to the directorate. Likely you’ll have a job when you arrive, given your expertise. I’ve credited your living quarters account as you instructed so that will be available when you land and your luggage will be delivered there. Any questions?”

  “When do we, uh....” Lily bit her bottom lip.

  “Enter hibernation?” The man continued to stare at his screen. “One hour. I’ll have an escort take you to the lounge where you can have something to eat and drink first. Then the medical team will take you for insertion of sensors and fitting of stabilization suits. They’ll explain the process after that.”

  Avar placed an arm around her shoulders. Now that they were here, the process seemed overwhelming. He had to keep reminding himself that they’d eventually be together and they’d be safe.

  A woman in the same style green uniform arrived, and the male officer handed her a data pad. “They’re ready to head to the lounge.”

  “Very good. This way.” The woman smiled and led them along a corridor lined with silver metal and round, blue lights. “Feel free to enjoy a meal and your favorite beverage while you wait. It’s included in the transport price.”

  She led them into a room with curved glass on one side, exposing a vast view of space. Tables scattered the rest of the space and several other passengers had already started their meals. Small screens at each table played videos about the different mining colonies and tried to make the bleak environment appear as appealing as possible.

  He couldn’t help staring at a strange little man at a corner table, away from the others. He couldn’t have been more than four feet tall. It might have been possible to mistake him for a child had it not been for his long gray beard twisting into brittle ends that curled in his lap. His green trousers and red shirt appeared garishly out of place in the metal and plastic environment of the dining hall.

  Avar nudged Lily to observe the man and her brows rose. The man didn’t acknowledge their regard. He remained focused on his meal, spooning large bites of some sort of stew into his beard-shrouded mouth.

  They continued across the room and took a seat beside the panoramic window. Their escort placed tablets on the table. “Take a look at the menu, then key in your choices on the last page. Your food will be delivered shortly after that. The medical team will come for you in about an hour.”

  “Thanks.” Avar took a seat across from Lily.

  She pointed out the window. “Look, you can still see the Galaxy ship.”

  The hulking vessel seemed to be moving slowly, but in reality it streaked through space.

  “When will we enter hyper-space?” She swiped through the pages of the menu.

  “I assume it will be as soon as everyone has entered hibernation.” He glanced at the offerings...definitely, a bottle of wine.

  “What about the crew? Do they hibernate as well?”

  “No. They stay active. They work for five years and then get two years off. The pay is great, I hear. After two or three rotations, you can retire. For the right person, it’s a good deal, I guess.”

  “I like the thought that there will be people watching over us while we sleep.”

  “Are you still certain we made the right choice?”

  She keyed in her order, and placed the tablet to the side. “I can’t regret anything at this point. We have to make the best of it.”

  “I suppose it won’t seem like we were asleep very long. That will be good.” He placed his order and included a bottle of red wine. Might as well enjoy the last meal. He’d drown that creeping vine of panic once and for all.

  Lily reached across the table and took his hand. Her worried frown melted as she gazed past his shoulder and her eyes grew round. “Avar....”

  He turned in his seat, following her gaze. His breath caught in his throat. An Imperial Police Cruiser streaked past, blue lights blazing as it headed toward the vanishing Galaxy liner.

  She grabbed her tablet and placed another order.

  He laughed. “What are you ordering?”

  “Champagne.” She raised her face to him, grinning, and they both laughed. “We did make the right choice.”

  The rest of the diners stared at them as if they were crazy.

  “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to that mining colony,” she said between giggles.

  Their meals and champagne arrived and they raised a toast to the departing blue lights of the police cruiser.

  Avar’s chuckles faded as the odd little man in the corner left his table and started toward them. He used a steel pipe as a walking stick and its clink, clink on the floor caused the rest of the diners to pause their meals and glance his way.

  “Lily,” Avar whispered and nodded at the approaching figure. Strange, it appeared the man’s knees bent backwards, like a bird. What sort of creature looked like that?

  She turned in her chair as he reached their table. His sharp eyes twinkled amid the creased folds of his face, as his gaze traveled over them.

  “Hello,” he finally said in a creaky voice. “Greetings, gentle travelers. My name is Nicodemus, a roaming bard I be.”

  Avar and Lily shared a puzzled look, then he nodded to the man. “Greetings to you as well. My name is Avar and this is Lily.”

  “You’re a bard?” Lily asked. “That’s an old-fashioned term, isn’t it?”

  “It is indeed, little lady. But then, I started telling me stories a long time ago.” He chuckled and his belly bounced up and down. “Now I travel the universe, sharing interesting tales with those who have a moment to listen.”

  “Are you going to stay on in the mining colonies, too?” Avar asked.

  “I may, and then again I may not. Lots of stops along the way.” He rubbed his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Seems to me there be a story right here.”

  “What do you mean?” Lily tilted her head to one side.

  “You two.” Nicodemus pointed his short, stubby finger at them. “I’m good at seeking stories and knowing what will interest people. I’ve a feeling yours is worth hearing. Would you do an old man a favor and tell me why you’re toasting an Imperial Police cruiser?”

  Avar began to demur. They had little time together before the hibernation, and he wanted to enjoy it with Lily now that he had a sense of peace about their future. Sipping champagne and looking at the stars seemed a delightful interlude before their long sleep.

  A ringing interrupted his answer and a male voice came over a loudspeaker. “Attention, travelers. There will be a slight delay in our hibernation procedures, due to a need for program maintenance. We apologize for the delay. Please enjoy additional food and beverages at our expense while you wait. We anticipate resuming services in approximately three hours.”

  There were a few groans from the diners, but most seemed a little relieved at the delay.

  “Ah, now we have some time to kill. What say you? Will you share your tale?” The little man’s grin made it hard to refuse.

  Lily gave Avar a little nod.

  “All right, sir, pull up a chair.” Avar gestured to the space between them. “We’ll order another bottle of champagne and tell you how a riddle saved us and gave our love an opportunity to have a future.”

  Nicodemus rubbed his small hands together and settled in his chair. “I shall be honored to hear this riddling tale.”

  An hour later, the diminutive man took their hands and squeezed them. “That is indeed a celebration of true love. I thank you for sharing your story with me. Somewhere in the future, I shall tell this tale and others will gain hope for their own love. Continue to be good to each other and you will be blessed.”

  With a wink, he left them, his rolling gait taking him from the hall. The tap of his steel pipe echoed even after his departure.

  “What an unusual occurrence,” Lily said, a bemused smile on her lips. “Maybe we shouldn’t have told him everything.”

  Avar shook his head. “There’s
something about him.... Gathering stories appears to be the most important thing in the universe to him. He won’t betray our trust.”

  Lily laughed. “I had the same feeling. Telling him what happened left me with a sense of peace. I’m ready to face the future.”

  A lightness invaded Avar for the first time in weeks. His doubts about making the right decision had vanished. On impulse, he left his seat and knelt beside Lily’s chair. He took her hand and kissed it as her giggles subsided and she stared at him in surprise.

  “Lily, my darling, will you marry me?”

  She gasped and then her lips spread in a huge smile. “You want to marry an android?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t know exactly what you are anymore. I only know I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my love.”

  She kissed his knuckles. “Then, yes, Avar. I’d be most happy to marry you.”

  He reached into his tunic pocket and retrieved the crystal heart necklace she’d given him to keep. “I don’t have a ring, but take this and wear it as a promise of our future together.”

  She placed her hands over her mouth and tears glittered in her eyes. “You remembered.”

  He nodded and slipped it over her head then kissed her lips.

  Another bottle of champagne arrived along with a single red rose. The server said a short man sent it to them. They grew silent and raised their glasses in toast, this time to the odd man in green and red who had touched their lives.

  After clinking their glasses together, Avar kissed Lily long and deep. Five years really wasn’t too long to wait to be with her forever.

  And they lived happily ever after....

  ~A Letter from the Author ~

  Dear Reader,

  Science is making dramatic progress in producing advanced prosthetics and robots to make life better for humans. What happens when they reach the point of development as sentient beings capable of love? I’m fascinated by such speculative topics and how we as humans evolve as civilized entities.

  In A Riddle for Love, I explore this idea as a bio-engineer falls for one of his creations and then must decide how to view a mechanical device filled with the woman of his dreams. Is it possible to love someone so different, and yet so familiar? Is this similar to the racial/marriage rights issues we face today? What do you think?

  lara@laranance.com

  Beyond Fairytales

  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Operation Owl by Tara Quan

  Coming Soon!

  Chapter One

  Once upon a time….

  Maya Jain paused at the domed entrance. A sculpture in its own right, the hammered bronze lettering took up an entire wall and marked the beginning of the Nicodemus Fairy Tales exhibit. Halogen light glinted off curved metal, giving the interlaced alphabet characters a magical gleam. She took a halting step forward before courage failed, the echoing hall empty but for her presence. Even with huge posters in every Metro station, the National Gallery of Art failed to draw a crowd. At the height of summer, few tourists had chosen this air-conditioned D.C. landmark over the sunbathed monuments outside. Renaissance oil paintings often ranked at the bottom of people’s lists when it came to must-see treasures in the nation’s capital.

  Logic commanded she turn around. She had no idea what compelled her to stay put but hesitated to tease apart the jumbled emotions. Someone had either played a sick, twisted joke, or she was on the verge of aiding and abetting a known fugitive. She could just imagine herself inside a mirrored interrogation room at the Hoover Building. “But Mr. FBI Agent, sir—Zack Strong’s my best friend from college. I’m sure he didn’t do all those awful things they wrote about in the papers. Please don’t send me to jail.”

  Talk about a weak defense.

  Quoting the beginning line to every fairy tale, the piece of art taunted her, daring her to step inside. Her younger self would have met Zack anywhere. After all, he starred in her fondest memories of MIT. Two class years ahead of her, he’d tried and failed to teach her how to rollerblade, bought her first illegal alcoholic beverage, and once braved a Boston blizzard to buy microwavable popcorn for their Snow Day turned Farscape marathon. The least she could do now was hear him out.

  But she hadn’t seen him in five years, and he’d spent the past three months as the United States’ most sought-after criminal. When the government wished to accuse someone of espionage or treason, they often opted for the more provable charge of “mishandling classified documents.” If she gave credence to reputable sources such as the Washington Herald, CNN, Fox News, and MSNBC, which most people believed ninety percent of the time, then she had to accept that the recipient of her first kiss somehow became the evil hacker of the twenty-first century.

  According to the National Security Agency’s spokesman, her former classmate had circumvented the security protocols at the Barn—the NSA’s warehouse-sized bank of servers in the middle of the desert—and stolen information vital to national security. The most obvious course of action at this moment was to call 911 and turn him in, not accept a bizarre assignation at the National Gallery to hear his case.

  One major problem with friendship, however, was its lack of an expiration date.

  Gritting her teeth, she marched toward a small oil painting in the corner. She lifted a hand to adjust the nonexistent glasses ghosting the bridge of her nose. LASIK had freed her from the thick, round spectacles that had earned her the nickname Oolu, the Urdu word for owl. But a lifetime of near blindness caused the nervous habit to persist. After hearing her brother use the moniker, Zack had Google-translated the word and had insisted on calling her “Owl” for the next two years, despite repeated and emphatic requests on her end for him to knock it off. He’d even had the gall to reference the pet name in his cryptic video message that morning: “I saw an ad on the Metro. It reminded me of what I used to call you. Let’s take a look at the real thing today after our study session.”

  And to her shame, even though they’d shared little more than Facebook birthday wishes over the past five years, decoding his meaning took her less than a minute. So here she stood, scrutinizing the baroque-style painting titled The Owl. It featured a wooden barn enveloped in red and orange flames. A throng of farmers holding torches and pitchforks stood outside, watching the structure blaze against the dark backdrop of a moonless night. Through the top window, she could barely make out the shape of a gray horned owl—its wings turned to cinders by the man-made fire. A cautionary tale about how fear and lies could turn a harmless and beautiful creature into a source of harm, this Nicodemus fable warned her against jumping to conclusions and accepting popular opinion as fact.

  She heard approaching footsteps but didn’t turn, amazed she still recognized Zack’s unique gait by ear. His long lanky legs covered great distances in a short time. His heel always hit the floor first, followed by a light tap from his sole as the ball of his foot made contact. Unlike most people, the sound created by his left and right feet was almost identical. Balanced and even-keeled, he ambled with an athletic grace at odds with his chunky frame.

  A wall of body heat warmed her back, making her heart race. His chin brushed the hair at the top of her head. Standing a foot taller than her, he would have had to bend down for it to happen. The feather-light caress hadn’t been an accident.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” To her surprise, the sound of his voice soothed her fraying nerves. News headlines and open warrant be damned—she knew in her gut Zack wasn’t a bad guy. Being next to him triggered a sense of safety, not fear.

  Because she wanted nothing more than to turn around and hug her best friend, Maya kept her gaze locked on the painting. “The iPhone you couriered over was a nice bribe.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her back, and she couldn’t help but notice his chest seemed harder than she remembered. Where there had once existed a cushioning layer of flesh, she found defined muscle. Curiosity tempted her to look at him, but part o
f her hesitated. If a body could change, so could the man. She needed to cling to the memory of him for a while longer.

  “I owed you five years’ worth of birthday presents.”

  She bit down hard on her lower lip, for the first time understanding why Snow White had accepted the poisoned red apple. Temptation muddled her thoughts, her desire to believe him innocent overruling caution. The last thing she should be feeling right now was concern for his safety. “D.C. is a dangerous city for you. Come to think of it, so is the entire country. I thought you’d follow Edward Snowden’s footsteps and move to Russia.”

  He shivered. “You know how much I hated those Boston winters. If I ran somewhere, it’d be Venezuela.”

  She clenched her jaw so hard it hurt. “Then why are you here talking to me? There are cameras everywhere.”

  “I did some recon before I picked this spot. All the security cams are focused on the paintings. All anyone can see right now is the back of my head. It’s pretty nondescript.” His hands closed over her shoulders. The heat from his palms seeped through her silk blouse, making her want to lean back and rest her head against his broad chest. “Why won’t you look at me?”

  Steeling herself, she pivoted on her heel and kept her gaze level. The word NERD in orange and white lettering against a black cotton backdrop filled her vision. She laughed. And just like that, her world shifted. Anxiety, concern, and fear dissipated, leaving only the part of her that remembered who they once were. “You’re still ordering T-shirts from Think Geek?”

  “I’m told orange complements my eyes, which you haven’t looked at yet.” Not waiting for her response, he caught her chin and tilted her face up. Barely obscured by square, plastic-rimmed glasses, his amber gaze bore into hers with such intensity she blinked in an attempt to break the palpable link. Sporting a light tan, he looked more devastating than she remembered. As individual components, his features were unremarkable—the bridge of his nose too thick, his lips too thin, his eyebrows too bushy, his forehead too high, and his jaw too rounded. But, somehow, one look at his face could make her heart skip a beat, as it had done the day he sought her out at the end of a biostatistics lecture.