by J. M. Page
He just had to get through the bay doors, close them, and hope no one saw them or followed them.
Easy, right?
The ship left the ground, hovering up and up a little higher, still hidden by some of the behemoth warships.
Celine gasped as the movement, her hand going to Ben’s shoulder for stability. He loved the warm pressure of her hand and the way she clung to him for support. But it wasn’t the time for that. She still looked shell-shocked, completely disbelieving that this was actually happening.
Ben settled his hand overtop hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You might wanna strap in,” he said. “We’re going to have to rush take-off and it might be a little rough.”
Her eyes went wide, twin pools of evergreen ambrosia, addicting and enthralling. He forced himself to look away while she did as he instructed.
“It’s safe though, right?” she asked, a quiver of fear in her voice.
Ben chuckled. “Do you trust me?”
Celine nodded slowly without hesitation, maybe thinking better of it, but admitting it all the same. She trusted him and that meant worlds to Ben. His chest felt tight and strained, like his heart was a rapidly-expanding balloon, ready to just explode forth from the pressure of all that swelling.
Under different circumstances, he might be concerned about that sensation, but in Celine’s presence, it felt normal. The same way she filled him with an unexplainable joy, anticipation, and that strange unidentified electric hum that seemed to accompany her presence. Knowing that she trusted him filled him with pride and excitement that he could hardly contain.
More eager than ever, he turned to Celine and said “Hold on.”
The ship lifted a little more, hovering higher, as high as he dared to without drawing the attention of the guards. He double-checked to make sure Celine was strapped in tight and then tilted back the controls in one fluid motion.
The craft tilted with his guidance and then all at once, it shot upwards, past the bay doors, over the tops of buildings, higher and higher.
The force pushed them both back in their seats, but Ben was used to the sensation. He pushed the ship higher and higher still, even as it shuddered and groaned with the effort.
Warning bells rang and indicators pushed to the red, shaking and rattling. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Celine’s grip on her armrest, fingertips bright white, knuckles tight. She was wondering now if she should’ve trusted him to do this. He could see it written in her body language, but he didn’t take it personally.
Ben knew how far he could push his ship. He’d gone to the brink and back a hundred times in training maneuvers. He didn’t want them to be seen and definitely didn’t want anyone to have a chance to follow them.
Midway through their ascent, Ben tapped a button and looked down below to see the bay doors closing, hopefully nobody any wiser to their absence.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d actually managed it.
The ship blared more warnings at him and Ben couldn’t help but be transported back to the last flight he took, before he crashed in the Wastelands. That wasn’t going to happen again. It couldn’t.
It was one thing to save his own skin, but now he had Celine to think about. Beautiful, innocent, curious Celine.
Higher and higher toward the clouds, they traveled, nearly to the top of the force field dome. Soon they’d be concealed by clouds and no one would have a prayer of finding them if they didn’t want to be found.
They passed through with a faint sizzle, static making the hairs on Ben’s arm stand up, and then everything around them was silent and orange.
Now was when Ben needed to concentrate the most. It would be too easy to let his guard down and think they were safe, but the clouds held their own danger. He learned that the hard way in flight school.
Without any visual cues, it was nearly impossible for a pilot to get his bearings. Flight did strange things to the human body, and it was easy to lose sight of which way was up or down or sideways. One could be completely positive they were banking to the left when in actuality they were level.
That kind of disorientation killed pilots. If they trusted biology rather than their instruments, the ship could go into an irrecoverable death spiral. He’d seen it happen twice in his class of recruits. When Ben expressed concern about the possibility, his instructor blacked out his entire windscreen and made him fly — quite literally — blind.
He’d never mistrusted his instruments again.
At the time, it seemed like over-kill, but Ben was thankful for it now. Now he had a new reason to be safe. A new pressure to fly flawlessly. He wouldn’t let any harm come to Celine. Not if he could help it.
So the Prince held his controls steady, keeping a watchful eye on all the instruments before him. The warning bells had long since stopped, though he knew they weren’t out of danger quite yet. He’d done this a million times, no need to second-guess himself now.
Ben looked over at the woman next to him, wondering with amusement, if it was actually possible for her eyes to get any wider. She leaned forward in her seat, still trying so hard, straining with all her might to see through the clouds.
“We’ll break through soon,” he said. Celine still gripped her armrests with white knuckle force, but now she was practically bouncing in her seat. No longer afraid, only excited. It warmed Ben’s heart.
He found himself straining to see, too. Something he hadn’t done in… Well, he couldn’t remember how long. He’d been pretty young on his first trip to space, and by the time he was a teenager, he’d been all over the galaxy.
Still, he had that same kind of thrilling anticipation about flying. That pure unadulterated joy that was written across her face. He’d lost that somewhere along the way, buried under the weight of politics and bureaucracy.
“Aaaaaany minute now,” he teased her, an unquenchable smile plastered on his face.
She didn’t just make him remember the joy and excitement he’d once felt at flying. She made him relive it. Her energy was infectious and it was impossible for him to not be just as excited by her expression.
In other circumstances, it would feel silly to be straining to see the first glimmer of light through the clouds, but Celine didn’t make him feel silly. They were in this together, both longing for the same thing, no judgement and no posturing.
It was refreshing.
He glanced at the altimeter just in time to realize they were at the very edge of the clouds. The veil of orange parted, clouds billowing to the sides like a curtain caught in the breeze. And opening up before them, revealed at least, was a hazy swath of stars.
They weren’t free of the atmosphere yet, but free of the clouds, Celine got her very first look at the sky.
He wasted no time looking to Celine for her reaction.
She didn’t disappoint. Eyes wide, mouth open in awe, she gaped in pure wonder. She leaned forward, nearly pressing her nose to the windscreen, blinking fast.
Ben felt supremely proud of himself for giving her this thing, when she sat back in her seat and was suddenly wiping at tears, her face streaked with them.
The Prince frowned, taking her hand in his, wondering if he’d done something wrong. Wondering if maybe she wasn’t ready for this.
“What is it?” he asked, one eye on the controls, one eye on her.
Celine shook her head, sniffling and swiping at tears. His heart clenched painfully. Whatever it was, he wanted to make it better. He couldn’t explain the bone-deep need to stop her tears, but it was there, stronger than anything.
Then she started laughing, a soft chuckle at first, then a full-blown laugh.
Ben felt his eyebrows scrunch together in his confusion. “Are those… good tears?” he asked, still hesitant, not sure if he was helping or hurting.
Celine gave him another watery laugh and a vehement nod. “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m a fool. I just… I always dreamed of… I mean, I never actually thought I’d…” She shook her head and squeezed his han
d, electricity shooting between them.
“What I’m trying to say is thank you.”
For a moment that seemed to stretch on and on, they were locked together. Eyes searching, Ben lost, drowning in her. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, holding his breath for fear of spooking her.
He wondered if her lips were as soft and sweet as he imagined. If she would respond to him the way he dreamt. They were so close, he could feel her shallow breaths on his lips.
And then she pulled away, her attention once again glued to the scenery.
“They really do twinkle,” she said. “I never believed it.”
Ben smiled, trying his best to hide the deflated disappointment gnawing inside him. He didn’t want her to feel guilty… or pressured. Maybe he’d read the whole thing wrong. Maybe his suspicions were way off base.
“Only for the next couple of miles,” he said. “Once we’re past the atmosphere they won’t twinkle, but I promise they’re just as pretty.”
Celine sighed happily and leaned back in her seat, content to watch the sky as they rushed toward it.
Ben did the same, sighing with a smile before he relaxed into his seat, content to watch the captivating woman at his side.
He didn’t think he was wrong. He was positive she was the girl that saved him. What were the odds of another woman coming from the Wastelands with those same eyes? With that soft voice that was somehow familiar? And the soft touch that made his heart race?
It had to be her.
He didn’t know what to do with the memories of her mechanical arm, or the fact that she didn’t want to be forthcoming with him. Something was amiss, but he wasn’t able to put a finger on it.
Was there something he should be worried about? Should he be concerned that she lied about where she was from, who she was, and where she wanted to go? Was she running from something?
He’d protect her if she was. He just needed to know.
Ben’s instincts told him that Celine had a good reason to be vague, but his time in the Space Force taught him to consider every possibility. And never underestimate anyone.
He’d have to learn more about her to assess her potential risk. That’s what he told himself. It certainly wasn’t an excuse to spend more time with her. It wasn’t a justification to get to know everything about her and spend every waking moment with her.
No, he was just assessing risk. That was the story he was going to stick with.
“Look down,” he said, leveling the craft as they reached the outer limits of the atmosphere. From so far up, the curvature of the planet was discernable. Clouds covered every bit of the planet, churning and writhing in great swirling patterns.
Celine looked down, her expression unreadable. “It actually looks kind of pretty from way up here,” she said.
Ben nodded, seeing the tiniest opening. It wasn’t much, but he had to take it.
“Not so pretty down there, though,” he said.
Celine shook her head. “No, it doesn’t look like much of anything from down there. Just dust everywhere.”
Ben nodded again, thinking he’d managed to corner her.
“It must’ve been hard, growing up in that environment. The Wastelands, I mean,” he said.
She turned to him, eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted with a refusal on the tip of her tongue. Her cheeks flushed warm and pink and Ben wondered if she was embarrassed he called her out, or angry that he wouldn’t play along with her charade anymore.
But Ben didn’t care either way. He had to know the truth. He needed answers. He needed to know what he was getting himself into with this girl. The way she pulled him in like a gravitational field was alarming, but even more so because he didn’t know anything about her.
She could be dangerous. If not to his kingdom, then to his heart at the very least. He braced himself for her argument, for another lame excuse or story.
Finally she sighed, and surprised him with what she said. “That obvious, huh?”
Ben felt like a twenty-ton weight was lifted from his shoulders and he nodded. “Why did you lie about the crash? About where you’re from?”
Celine shrugged, looking down at her hands clasped in her lap. “I was always told that city dwellers hated m— ...us.”
M—? What had she started to say? Modders? Was it possible? Were his dying hallucinations reality after all? He tried to keep calm even though his heart raced and his forehead dampened with sweat.
“Mus?” he teased, trying to keep the mood light even though she could very well deliver an earth-shattering revelation.
Ben just wanted the truth. He wanted his suspicions confirmed. To know that she was the girl that saved him and that he wasn’t completely crazy for feeling this weird connection with her.
She shook her head. “Us, people out in the Wastelands. We’re told you’re dangerous. You’ll shoot on sight.”
He frowned, both because he answer wasn’t what he wanted and because it painted his people in an unflattering light.
“We didn’t even know anyone was out there. Didn’t think it was possible for anyone to survive… How do you survive?”
It was Celine’s turn to frown as she seemed to weigh her options. He saw the conflict behind her eyes, whether she should tell him this thing or not. What did she have to be so afraid of? Were they really so convinced Terrans wanted to exterminate them all? It made him a little queasy.
She shook her head again. “What does it matter? We do.”
Her terse response made Ben realize that he’d pushed her too far. He needed to back off now before she shut him out completely.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just…” He blew out a heavy exhale, trying to find the right words to make up for his epic failure in conversation. “I want to know more about you. Where you’re from, what your life is like… I can’t help but feel like…” he stopped, realizing he was close to saying more than he wanted.
What was it about this girl that made him so at ease? Made him want to speak so freely even when he knew he shouldn’t?
“Like what?” she asked, her tone interested now as she leaned forward towards him. He glanced up, ensnared again in her verdant eyes. She saw more of him than he wanted. She saw him exposed and vulnerable as much as if he were completely naked.
He didn’t know if he could trust her with that yet.
He sighed and shook his head, unable to look right at her anymore. He was afraid another minute of looking into those eyes would have him spilling his heart and soul out.
“Nothing,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Her expression fell, her mouth opening to say something. She closed it again, a frown tugging at the corners of her lips as she looked off into the distance.
Leaving the planet’s atmosphere, the ship moved more freely, still locked by gravitational pull, but free to explore the cosmos.
Letting the craft drift, Ben wondered if this was a mistake. Everything felt weird now. He’d made it weird with his insatiable questioning. He shouldn’t have said anything. Now he may have ruined all his chances.
His stomach tied itself into knots and he wracked his brain for the right thing to say. To recover from the mess he’d made of this whole thing. He was too busy cursing himself to notice that Celine wasn’t just looking off into the distance anymore. She’d spotted something.
“What is that?” she asked.
Ben looked, a sense of dread coming over him before he did. That could be any number of things, from a distant star to an incoming ship. He followed her finger, pointing off to the distant glowing orb that slowly came into view as they orbited the planet.
He sighed with a surprised chuckle. “That… That’s the moon,” he said.
Celine whirled around, genuine awe written on her face. “We have a moon?”
He realized again just how cut off from everything she must have been her whole life. She’d never seen the sky or the stars. She didn’t even know they had a moon. What oth
er new discoveries would she find out of the Wastelands?
It was hard to think this woman had any sort of ulterior motives for him or his kingdom, by the way she stared with reverence.
“That’s where customs is. Anyone coming in has to go through there.”
She gave him a strange look. “Or what?” Her eyes drifted down toward their home planet before locking onto the moon again.
“Well… The Space Force would try to intervene. If someone bypassed customs they’d direct them back. If the ship is unresponsive… they’ll take it out.” Saying it out loud seemed to make it sound barbaric, but it was the way things had to be.
“The boys in grey?” she asked. It took Ben a moment to remember what General Pao had said at lunch.
He nodded.
“Because of the Grounding?” she asked.
Ben shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s to keep the city safe, too. Terranys is a closed ecosystem, we can’t have people bringing in unapproved animals, or plants, or diseases, you know? We have to be careful. There’s not anywhere for us to go if the city is compromised.”
Celine nodded like she understood, but Ben still felt a weirdness between them. Something that hadn’t been there before the flight. It clawed at him and made him uneasy. It wasn’t natural, this rift between them. Not when everything in him wanted to be closer to her.
“You wanna try it?” he asked, a thought springing to life.
“Try what?”
“Flying,” Ben offered, sending the control panel to her side of the cockpit.
Celine muttered something unintelligible and shook her head. “I wouldn’t have any idea how to…”
“Nonsense. I’ve seen the way you look at it. You say your father’s an engineer, but I think you are at heart, too. You like to know how things work. Am I right?”
She didn’t say anything, but she nodded.
“What better way to learn than hands on?” Ben left his seat and moved to stand behind her, one arm on either side of her, his palms on the dash, leaning forward.
She stiffened ever-so-slightly, caged by his body, and swallowed thickly. Ben had to resist the urge to dip in and kiss the side of her neck, just inches from his lips. He longed for contact with her, craved it like nothing else, but he couldn’t bring himself to act on it yet. Not without knowing if she felt the same.