Darrell Bain

by The Y Factor (lit)

"She's been through a lot, Captain,” Jeri said quietly. “I'd hate to think how I'd feel if I'd lost Kyle, and she's lost two men she cared about lately."

  "I know,” Becker said softly. “I hate to be asking. And that's one reason for her drink. I thought she could use it about now."

  "Thank you, sir,” I said gratefully. “So how long do I have to decide?"

  "Take a couple of days. It'll be that long, at least, before we have everything set up. Longer, if the Crispies outfit us with a bit of offensive and defensive gear. Is that enough?"

  "Yes, sir, I think so."

  "Good. Dismissed."

  * * * *

  As I headed back to my quarters, Gordon fell into step beside me. “Are you okay?” he asked gently.

  "To be honest, I dunno, Gordon,” I answered heavily. “I will be, though."

  "I know. You always are."

  That got a wan smile out of me. “You're biased."

  "Mmm ... yes and no."

  I snorted.

  When we arrived at my quarters, he followed me in. “Gordon,” I began, turning toward him, “I'm really not in the mood..."

  "I know,” he replied, “but I'm here on orders."

  "Orders?"

  "Jeri's and Dr. Honeywell's. They know—we know—how upset you are. I'm here to just be with you.” He led me to the armchair and sat me down in it, then knelt before me. “Mai, we do need to talk, though."

  I nodded, suspecting some of what was coming. He still managed to surprise me, though.

  "The reason they asked me to stay with you for now is because they know how I feel ... or at least, Jeri does,” Gordon corrected himself. “I love you, Mai. As much as Jeri loves Kyle. I didn't really know it until I'd been human for awhile, but the night you ... showed me what lovemaking could be, I ... I was certain.” He paused and swallowed. “It's been hard. I knew you weren't interested, and I tried to move on, like you wanted. But no one else was like you. No one else touched me ... here,” he put his fingertip on his breastbone, “like you do.

  "I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, Cherry,” he continued, an earnest expression on his handsome face. “I just want you to know that I'm staying on Cresperia. If you choose to stay, I'll be overjoyed, and I swear I will try to court you as properly as possible, given Cresperia isn't Earth. But if you choose to go, I won't chase you, or try to convince you differently. I'll stay here; but more than likely, I won't form a permanent attachment with a woman, or at least not for a very long time, even by Crispy terms."

  Coming from a Crispy human, that said volumes. I didn't know what to think, and I certainly didn't know how to feel. Tears welled in my eyes.

  "Hush, hush,” he murmured soothingly, rising and pulling me to my feet. “I wanted you to know that, so you'd understand that there's someone here who loves you, looking after you."

  And with that, he turned and sat in the armchair, then pulled me down into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. I went willingly.

  "Now,” he said softly, “have you cried for Juan and Gene yet?"

  "Some,” I admitted, sniffling.

  "Not enough,” he declared, putting his hand on my head and easing it to his chest. “Let it out, Cherry. Let it out, love."

  How he had turned the tables and gotten to be the counselor, I'll never really understand. But in that moment all I knew was that I was safe in the strong, gentle arms of someone who loved me. I turned my face into his chest and cried my eyes out, for a long, long time.

  * * * *

  Gordon stayed the rest of the evening, seeing to it that we both ate properly without having to go to the ship's mess, and that I had a quiet, early evening. He was a good companion, thoughtful and considerate and understanding. I didn't protest when he put me to bed, but I was surprised when he didn't leave. He rummaged in a storage closet and extracted a spare pillow and a blanket, then moved nearby. I sat up in bed.

  "Gordon, what are you doing?"

  "Following orders."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I'm supposed to watch you overnight. Jeri didn't want you having nightmares and waking up alone. And neither do I.” He plopped the pillow into the armchair and sat.

  "You ... you're going to sleep in the chair?!"

  "Yes."

  "That's going to be damned uncomfortable."

  "I told you, Cherry. I'm not going to pressure you."

  And with that, he settled down to sleep.

  * * * *

  The next morning after breakfast, Gordon led me to Jeri and Kyle's quarters and left me there with a gentle hug.

  "Hi,” Kyle greeted me cheerfully. “You're off duty, pending your decision, so don't even think about going to your office today."

  "So ... what am I doing here?” I wondered.

  "Spending time with grateful friends,” Jeri smiled. “Friends that have been there and listen well if you need to talk. Or can talk about other things if you'd rather. Or just be silent, or play card games, or whatever you need right now."

  I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak yet. After a few moments of swallowing a very large knot that had formed in my throat, I finally managed, “I don't think I'm ready to ... to talk, yet."

  "Then we do something else,” Kyle decreed. “Movie, cards, general scientific shop talk, old Playboys, charades?"

  "Hell, Kyle,” Jeri muttered, “what a list.” Kyle's eyes twinkled mischievously.

  That managed to get a snicker out of me. “It's too early for a movie,” I decided. “How about a game of cards?"

  "Name your poison,” Kyle declared, going to the wall and opening one of the hidden cabinets. “Poker, bridge, spades, rook, hell, Jeri even brought along Old Maid."

  That got more than a snicker, which was, judging by his smirk, exactly what he'd intended. “Poker and some whisky—no, it's too early for that, too. Just poker."

  We played poker, mostly Texas Hold ‘Em, until lunchtime, but we didn't play for anything except fun. At lunchtime, Gordon stopped by, and Jeri invited him to join us for the meal. He shot a quick, querying glance at me, then relaxed, and I realized his perceptive sense had told him he was welcome.

  We headed for ship's mess together, a companionable foursome. No, a companionable double date, I suppose I should say. Because that's how it felt.

  We got a table for four and sat down to eat. By and large, everyone else left us alone, although a few of the soldier types came by and patted each of us on the shoulder, a silent, comrades-in-arms acknowledgement. Of ability, and of grief shared. I accepted it as it was offered, and handled it okay, I suppose.

  After lunch the four of us went back to Jeri's and Kyle's quarters. By that time it was tacitly accepted that Gordon would stay; even though I hadn't made up my mind, it was good knowing he was there and that he cared. We made some small talk initially, then Jeri turned to Gordon.

  "I'm glad you're here, Gordon,” she said. “I've been wanting to talk to you ... about..."

  "Yes,” Gordon agreed. “Me, too. The sickbay experience, with the dying marine."

  "Exactly. I wanted to ... I dunno, compare notes, try to understand. Kyle and I have done a lot of discussion, but since he didn't feel it, I wanted to talk to you, too."

  "I think that is an excellent plan, Jeri,” Gordon agreed immediately. “But ... where to start?"

  "How about by explaining what you ... sensed ... to Kyle and me?” I suggested. “I've always found that teaching is the best way to understanding. If you grasp a concept well enough to explain it to someone else, you have to understand it pretty well."

  Jeri and Gordon nodded thoughtfully. “Very well,” Gordon said. “It seems reasonable. First of all, you know that our mathematicians have constructed a proof that there is no Supreme Being. And likely no afterlife."

  Kyle and I both nodded.

  "Yet,” Jeri pointed out, “as a mathematician myself, I have begun to realize there may be more than the one way to interpret that proof."

  More nods. />
  "So imagine my agitation,” Jeri continued, “when, instead of the simple diffusion of ... of, essence, into the quantum foam that I expected, that I'd always encountered before, that young marine just..."

  "Left,” Gordon said blankly, finishing for her. “Not a dissipation, not a dispersal, not even an abrupt vanishing into nothingness."

  Jeri nodded. “He left,” she elaborated, “just ... left. Without fear."

  "Maybe he willed it,” I suggested. “Even the human mind is powerful enough for some amazing things."

  "Maybe,” Jeri agreed. “I know that a few Crispies believe that, when we die, we go into another existence in the quantum foam, but I've never experienced it. The only other time I've ever experienced anything remotely like it was when Swavely died. He didn't exactly dissipate, either, but it wasn't ... he didn't ... he didn't leave,” she finally finished, somewhat lamely. “He went, more or less all at once, sort of like what we're talking about now. Not as, as ‘firmly,’ though. Swavely and Murphy both went into the quantum foam, but...” She hesitated.

  "Go on, Jeri,” Gordon urged.

  "No, you explain, Gordon,” Jeri said, obviously uncomfortable. “I want to see if you and I perceived it the same way. I didn't notice anything after Swavely died, but, but I might have been too upset to ‘see’ it. Or maybe it just didn't happen. I don't know. I'm totally confused."

  Gordon nodded. “It's like Murphy's soul went through it, or beyond it, or, or something,” he ended, at a loss for words. “Like there's something past the foam, or the foam isn't All, like we'd thought."

  Kyle considered that for a bit. “Maybe it's not. After all, there's always a new discovery just over the metaphorical horizon. Newtonian physics was fine until Einstein came along, and then there was relativity, which explained everything until quantum mechanics came along. Now there's unreality physics. Stands to reason there's something more to discover. I wouldn't go so far as calling it a soul in the classical sense just yet, though."

  "Are you saying...?” Jeri queried.

  "I'm saying that we only know what we know,” Kyle pointed out reasonably. “I never said that there wasn't Something, or Someone, Else out there. I just said I hadn't seen any proof of it, personally. If I start seeing proof, well ... that's different."

  "There's more,” Gordon stated hesitantly. “When Murphy's essence ... left,” he stated, “it ... I don't know what it was. The quantum foam ... it ... reacted."

  "What?!” Kyle and I both exclaimed in unison.

  Gordon nodded. “I'm not sure if Jeri noticed this. And I'm not certain, myself, but ... it was like it, I don't know quite how to describe it,” he said unhappily, obviously confused and conflicted. “Churned? Boiled? Swirled? Not violently, but...” He shrugged. “If I were to personify it in order to classify the reaction, I'd say it welcomed him. But personifying the foam is ... well, it makes about as much sense as saying interstellar space thinks."

  Jeri stared at him. “It reacted? Like a response? Gordon, are you sure?"

  Gordon shook his head. “No, like I said, I'm not sure,” he murmured. “I'm not sure of anything, at this point."

  We all pondered that for a moment. Suddenly a memory popped out of my mouth. “His last words were, ‘It's here!’ And the look on his face ... was like he saw, and recognized, whatever ‘it’ was."

  "Yes,” Gordon nodded. “And his emotional response, and that statement, coincided within nanoseconds of the ... event ... in the quantum foam."

  Kyle shrugged. “Maybe you were right, baby, when you postulated that we all go into the foam,” he told Jeri. “It might explain certain situations where probabilities are skewed from the theoretical. Or certain paranormal events for that matter. I've had a couple of weird things happen that can't be put down to coincidence."

  "Or maybe there's more to it than the foam,” Jeri pondered. “Oh, I don't know,” she said then, throwing up her hands in aggravation. “There isn't enough data for me to interpret. Gordon?"

  Gordon shook his head. “I agree; insufficient data. Vastly insufficient. I do know I should like to look into it a bit further, now. Especially after this incident. Perhaps humans and Cresperians together can discover something that either alone could not."

  "I'm up for that, I think,” I decided. “If I stay on Cresperia, maybe we can do some research on the subject, and even come up with some viable experiments."

  Gordon's eyes lit up. “An excellent plan, Cherry. I would like that."

  "And it would give you something to do in addition to mentoring Crispy conversions to human,” Jeri offered.

  "True,” I agreed. “Assuming,” I added with a wry, one-sided smile, “we can do it without killing anybody else."

  "Then may I suggest we adjourn the discussion for now, before we start having to shovel horse manure out of here and into the head, and go for some lighter entertainment?” Kyle said, cutting his eyes meaningfully at me. I pretended not to notice.

  Jeri and Gordon tried to hide their guilty starts. “Works for me, sweetheart,” Jeri said in a smooth segue.

  "I was watching an old science fiction movie the other night,” Gordon offered up, “and found it incredibly funny, especially in our current historical context. It had a person in a furry bipedal animal suit, saving that the head had been replaced with a crude space helmet. I couldn't help but wonder what the filmmakers would have made of us, Jeri, in our original Crispy form."

  The room burst into laughter. “I know that one,” I snickered. “A baddie, but goodie."

  "Shall I fetch it to watch?” Gordon grinned.

  "Oh, please do,” Kyle guffawed.

  Gordon was out the door and back with the movie in short order, while Jeri made popcorn. Laughing uproariously, we all watched the movie, then a second, before it was time for dinner. We headed for the mess again, with results identical to lunch, then broke up for the evening. Kyle and Jeri headed back to their quarters, and Gordon turned away toward his. I grabbed his hand before he could leave.

  "Gordon, would you come with me? Just for a little while? I, I need to know something."

  He turned toward me, an eyebrow cocked. I had no illusions that I was hiding much from his perceptive sense, but that was okay. I simply didn't want to discuss the matter in public.

  He walked beside me to my quarters, and I let us in. Once the door was closed, I turned to him. “I need to know something before I decide anything,” I explained. “It's not exactly about you. It's about myself. But I need your help."

  Gordon nodded. “It's your move, Cherry."

  He stood very still as I slid my hand up his chest, around his neck, and into his soft, wavy hair. I tilted his head down as I leaned up. Our lips met, and he let his part. I kissed him deeply, and after only a few moments he began responding in kind. My other arm slid around his neck, and his arms gently enveloped me, holding me close while still allowing me room—to escape, I suppose.

  But I didn't want to escape. I'd learned what I wanted to know: the spark was there, and as we kissed, it ignited into flame. I pressed close, wanting more, and his arms tightened in response. After awhile he picked me up and carried me to the armchair, sitting down with me in his lap. There, we continued to kiss and caress and cuddle for over an hour.

  Finally I got up and caught his hand, tugging him into my bedroom. I reached for his shirt and unfastened it, throwing it to one side, then began caressing his chest. He had already been breathing heavily, and now a pant escaped him.

  "Cherry, are you sure about this?” he asked softly.

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  Our undressing was half utilitarian and half striptease. By the time we both got in bed, he was obviously more than ready, and I realized he'd done a little tinkering in the regions below the waist: he'd enhanced his assets. Not unreasonably so, but wow, did he look good.

  But instead of pulling me to him, or rolling on top of me, he bent over me. Delicate yet hungry kisses contacted my bare skin and trailed across my
body. Flame became bonfire as I caressed him in return.

  Finally I playfully pushed him on his back and crawled onto him. He grinned up at me, those beautiful hazel bedroom eyes coming into play again. It suddenly dawned on me that with Gordon, I didn't have to worry about my increased strength. I could turn loose and let go. And I did.

  But to my surprise, he was the one who held out. And held out. And held out. The hormonally-teenage Crispy human had matured into a man, regardless of what his chronological age may have been. By my fourth climax, he had me groaning. On my fifth, I was screaming. And he was still going strong. The hell with bonfire; this was wildfire, and I was reveling in it. By number six, I screamed out instinctively. “Gordon! I love you!” I heard his gasp, realized what my subconscious had said, and knew I meant every word. So did he. And dammit, it was his turn!

  Somewhere in the course of things, he'd gotten back on top. So I flipped us over and went at him. In seconds he was panting, then gasping, moving with me as desire built between us to the flashpoint.

  He arched and fairly roared my name, and even without a perceptive sense, I felt him finally lose control. I let go at the same time, and baritone and alto voices joined in a harmony as perfect as their owners’ bodies'.

  * * * *

  There was no question of him staying the night. We cuddled after that, content in each other's arms. “This is ... a dream, Cherry,” he whispered, almost disbelieving. “I wanted ... but I never really thought..."

  I shrugged, then grinned. “One more thing you gotta learn about us humans, Gordon. Sometimes we miss what's right under our noses."

  "You still need to grieve and recover,” he pointed out.

  "Yeah,” I said, sobering immediately as Juan's and Gene's faces flashed into my mind. “But just like you converted to human better with someone beside you to help, I'll heal emotionally a lot better if you're beside me."

  "Then that's where I'll stay,” he declared. “I assume you've made up your mind?"

  "Yep. I'm staying. I'll tell the captain ... in the morning."

  "Good,” he said with a devilish grin, rolling back on top of me.

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