by Jay Shaw
“We’re headline news.”
“Hmmm?”
Mark was distracted by the prospect of food. Julia couldn’t blame him. He had willingly missed dinner, but there was no way he was going without breakfast. She followed his example and filled her own tray’s compartments with scrambled eggs, something bacon-like, toast, yoghurt, and what appeared to be fruit salad. With his tray full to its limits, Mark led the way to a central table where Anora and Hayden were half-way through their own meals.
“New day, Julia.” Anora said, a welcoming smile on her dainty mouth.
“Morning, Anora.” Julia took the chair next to Anora and opposite Mark.
“Sleep well?” Hayden’s amusement played on his full lips as he reached for the steaming cup in the corner of his tray; ignoring the carabiner handle in favor of wrapping his palm around it.
She was fascinated by the way the morning light caught in the iridescent designs etched across the backs of Hayden’s hands and disappeared inside the sleeves of his coat, only to reappear up the honeyed stretch of his neck and morph into an eye mask like that of an American Indian. Ice blue and silver blended with a rich scarlet to enhance the soft brown of his eyes and shimmered whenever he moved. The effect was mesmerizing.
Julia hadn’t noticed Hayden’s body art on the island, or in the glider; but to be fair, she had had other things on her mind. She was in the middle of forming a polite way to ask the many questions running through her mind when she felt Mark’s gaze on her. She blushed at the attention and ducked her head to her tray when Mark arched a brow at Hayden and grinned. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the topic of their wordless conversation.
The eggs were spongy and tasted of their cardboard packaging, but the bacon was hot and crunchy, and there was an aqua-skinned fruit with plum flesh in the fruit salad that reminded Julia of a nectarine. It was juicy and grainy like a pear; and her new favorite fruit. She’d have to ask its name and origin.
Julia caught the satisfied smirk on Hayden’s face before he looked back down at his food; brown eyes hidden behind silky white tresses, while long elegant fingers searching out every last morsel. Hayden was someone she hoped to get to know. There was so much more to him than what had been portrayed in the show. It was obvious his friendship with Mark was one of long-standing and transcended the differences in their ranks; something that had been built on an intricate web of trust and shared experiences. And not something she wanted to jeopardize.
“What are your plans for this day?” Anora asked, dragging Julia from her thoughts and back to the svelte woman at her side.
“I have to see Doctor Peyton for a medical.” Julia swigged from her bottled water. “Apparently, it’s routine.”
“It is something we have all experienced.” Anora confirmed. “Anyone new to Phoenix must have one.”
“We’ll head down after breakfast.” Mark said, knife and fork poised as he studied the contours of Julia’s face.
“Then you’d better eat something.”
Hayden must have kicked him, because Mark jumped a foot in the air, before elbowing Hayden in the ribs. The three of them laughed at Mark’s expense and he dipped his head, forking eggs into his mouth, before gazing back at her, a suggestive light in the whiskey depths of his eyes.
Julia wondered just how a woman was supposed to focus on anything, let alone eat, when her lover had her wriggling in her seat with a single glance.
“Where’s Stephen?” She asked of no one in particular.
“Doctor Garrett does not partake of morning refreshment.” Anora answered and Hayden nodded.
“Nothing but Zefeirian citrus tea and protein bars until the sun reaches its zenith.”
“Hangover from his tour in the East.” Mark confirmed around the last of his of bacon while beneath the table he rubbed his boot against her calf. Julia fidgeted the eggs with her fork, her appetite for food vaporized in a haze of want. “Not hungry, Wings?”
“Hmmm?”
He’d finished his entire selection and was washing it down with a coffee so dark and fragrant; it couldn’t have originated from Earth. She watched his throat work as he swallowed, stabbing the last piece of mysterious fruit into her mouth, and refusing to make eye contact with anyone at the table.
After excusing themselves from the table they handed in their trays and headed for the infirmary; Julia’s hand gripped tight to Mark’s.
“You’ll be fine, I promise.” His sweet smile did nothing to make her stomach unclench even the slightest bit. “Doc Peyton will scan you, take some blood, and you’re done.”
“I’m sure Doctor Peyton is great and all.” Julia said, keeping pace with Mark’s military strides. “But I deliver the patients. I’m not a patient myself.”
Mark stroked his thumb along hers as he steered them around the next bend, and through the overwide sliding doors of the hospital building’s triage level.
At the echo of their bootsteps on large stone tiles, a woman in her mid-twenties with wide gray eyes, and flyaway candy-pink highlights in her chestnut pixie cut, turned from the cabinet she was restocking to greet them.
“Doctor Peyton, this is Julia Swift.” Mark gestured with his free hand. “Wings, this is Doctor Valentina Peyton.”
Despite her youth, it was evident Valentina Peyton had experienced more than the average twenty-something from Earth. And Julia didn’t doubt the woman’s skills. In fact, she seemed like someone with whom Julia would’ve been friends with.
“Charmed, I’m sure.” Doctor Peyton slipped her tablet on top of the cabinet before offering a hand with French-white manicured nails for Julia to shake. “Those ribs of yours acting up, Colonel Holden? Not that I’d be surprised. Mr Cooper’s sparring lessons are responsible for half my patient inventory.”
“No, Doc, they’re fine. We’re here for Julia’s medical.” Judging by his wicked grin, he was deriving far more pleasure from her discomfort than was strictly necessary. “She’s a little nervous.”
“Now, now, there’s no need to fret.” Doctor Peyton gave Julia’s forearm a quick pat-pat. “It’s completely painless and the best way we have of establishing a base line to measure all future treatment on. Lie here and try not to move while the scanner passes over you.”
Julia did as she was bid, unable to explain it wasn’t the pain that bothered her, but the stench of the disinfectant used in every hospital in the world, alternate world, and galaxy, it seemed. A bright blue light moved over her body in a similar pattern the shower water used. She felt nothing, and like Doctor Peyton had assured, it was over in no time.
“See, completely painless.” Doctor Peyton patted Julia’s bicep before gesturing for her to sit up. “Now, I’ll take some blood to analyze, and you’ll be free to go.”
Rich red burbled into the clear chamber of the vacuum syringe, filling it in a matter of seconds. Julia was surprised to discover there was no wound where the sample had been drawn.
“Colonel, I’ll radio you and Colonel Archer when the results are conclusive.”
“Thanks, Doc.” Mark said as he lead a relieved Julia out of the chemical stench of the infirmary.
The corridor they were walking down was just like all the others she’d traversed since arriving on Phoenix the day before, only it was deserted. Julia looked at Mark waiting for him to explain where he was taking her.
“Short cut, thought you’d like a tour, see if there’s any places around here that you don’t know about already.”
“Mark, are you sure about this? Colonel Archer s-”
“Sarah’s just being cautious.” He interrupted. “Besides, you’re being supervised.”
Julia breathed a sigh of relief and leaned into his shoulder. The last thing she wanted to do was piss of the Commander in Chief and end up exiled from Mark forever. “Okay, as long as you’re sure. But I think you’ll find you’ve set yourself a challenge there, Colonel Holden. I’m rather an expert on all things Phoenix.”
Mark didn’t say an
ything, just kept them moving; a cautious edge to his stride that hadn’t been there a moment ago. He wasn’t the only one spooked by recent events. When they ducked around another corner a set of double doors opened a few yards in front of them. Julia gasped at the crisp air rushing to play in her hair and sneak in under the tails of her shirt, sending goosebumps over the sensitive skin at her hips.
“Knowing’s one thing, seeing’s something else.” Mark’s voice was filled with pride; his gaze reaching out across the white-tipped cerulean ocean to the sharp line of the horizon. “Been here six years and still…”
The silver filigree balustrade was cool beneath Julia’s palms as she stood at Mark’s side. No way could a studio reproduce this, any attempt would make for a poor substitute indeed. She looked left and saw the ancient alien skyscrapers, each a marvel of twisted silver and glass, or sleek white curves, set above the towering cliffs along the coastline like jewels in a tiara. Emerald greens, scarlets and purples, and blues, of Phoenix City’s gardens, interspersed themselves between the buildings. Lush and flourishing on clean ocean air; giving balance to an otherwise stark setting. But there was something missing, and when she said as much, Mark laughed. Pleased with how quick she’d noticed.
“There’s no salt. It’s a fresh water ocean.”
Julia had no words. An ocean without the feel of a salty breeze in her hair and on her skin would take some getting used to. The roar of the waves and the briny salt air had always been the draw. She turned her head from the wide expanse of surging blue to find the same architectural design mirrored on the right, balancing the overall look of Phoenix. Some buildings were set atop the cliffs. Others adhered to it like crystals. Their lower stories extending far below where she and Mark stood, the ocean must lap at their foundations. It was difficult to tell from so high up, but there appeared to be an enormous stretch of concrete following the base of the cliffs and fanning out toward the ocean - a quay for intergalactic starships too large to dock anywhere else.
What she couldn’t see was the glider hanger. It was such a grandiose structure, she felt sure it would have stood out, even amongst the majesty of these coastal jewels. When she asked him, Mark used his hands to show her how the city was laid out like a crown, circling back in on itself with the glider hanger at its center. Surrounded by labyrinth of terraced courtyards, patios, atriums, each of which furnished by exotic flora the botanists were still learning about.
“We call it the Birdcage.” He grinned, the wild spikes of his hair being buffeted into further rebellion by the wind. “What with all the birds inside.”
She chuckled. “Hardly the most masculine name, is it?”
“No.” He agreed, pulling her against him, each of them blocking the wind for the other. “You wanna go in?”
She shook her head and fought to tuck her hair inside the neck of her jacket so she didn’t keep choking on it every time she spoke. Mark led her over to a contoured bench that seemed to have morphed right out of the balcony surface. She sat down, ass sliding as the small of her back settling perfectly to the chair. Even with her long legs, her toes barely scraped the ground.
“Who’s Jase?”
His question, coming out of the blue like it did, confused her and delayed her reply. He sat in a fair approximation of calm patience, but she could see the tension in the usually fluid lines of his body.
“A guy I worked with, why?”
“You and he…”
“No, oh no, no, no.” Julia laughed, waving away the idea with the hand not clutched tight in Mark’s white-knuckle grip. “No, just a colleague. His wife and three girls are lovely, if a bit full on.”
The relief in Mark’s face was absolute, and he relaxed back into her side; the grip on her hand easing too.
“So, choppers, huh?”
He smiled, crooked and sexy, and full of boyish excitement. The gold flecks in his eyes flaring bright.
“Yep.” Julia grinned back and leaned in to lay a kiss on the tip of his nose. “So, how old are you anyway?”
Mark groaned, ducking his head and rubbing his free hand back and forth through his hair, before looking up again. “Thirty-six.”
“You look pretty well-preserved for a man of your advanced years.”
She squealed when Mark growled and hauled her across his lap, nimble fingers getting up under her shirt to tickle her ribs.
“And how old are you, Beautiful?”
“Thirty-three.”
Julia squeaked between giggles as the fingers edged higher, stroking the sides of her breasts.
“Age is just a number.” He leaned in, slow and deliberate, and kissed her long and languid; tasting her until she was pressed close to his chest and her fingers yanked in his hair.
“Favorite book?” She asked a while later when the sun shadow had crept an inch or two closer and she lay with her cheek over Mark’s heart
“Anything that doesn’t make me think too hard.” She remembered the stack of well-thumbed magazines on the nightstand. “There’s kind of a library one of the techs started up, mostly we all just share the books we have, and pass them on when we’re done. You?”
“It’s about two lovers separated across time, and how they find their way back to each other.” She smiled when his arms tightened around her, drawing her in as close as she could get.
“Might have to read that one.” He murmured and brushed aside a strand of hair, so he could kiss her temple, her cheek, and the spot behind her ear.
The tour of Phoenix City had instead become the tour of them and their common interests, differences, trivial things they loved and despised, and the dreams and the hopes closest to their hearts.
“How long have you been here?”
“Six years.” He curved his palm to her thigh, thumb brushing along the stitching.
Julia pressed closer, his body heat seeping into her side. “Any family back on your Earth?”
“Mom died seven years ago - just before I came out here.” Mark took his time formulating each word, weighing them before offering them to the greedy wind. “My father, six months back. Luke, my brother, took over the business. He’s got it all under control. We were never that close.”
She squeezed his hand in response to the old pain she read in the taut lines of his body.
“I guess the short answer is, no.” He shrugged, offering a half-hearted smile that faded before it could be realized. “And you, do you have anyone back home?”
“No.”
Mark said nothing. The only pressure applied in the tightening of his fingers around hers.
“Remember that eight year old I told you about?” She kept her head down, focused on the way her fingers traced his knuckles and the tendons in his long fingers; the rounded squares of his nails. “We were inflight to Waikato when they radioed. A logging truck lost its load in the gorge. They were four cars back, but it didn’t matter, there was nowhere to go. SR2 had the call. William and Rachel Swift were black tagged at the scene, and Logan coded enroute to Auckland.”
Mark enfolded her into his embrace, solid and warm and exactly where Julia wanted to be.
Neither spoke for the longest time.
But the world, even an alien one in an alternate reality, wouldn’t stand still for two lovers united at last.
Mark’s radio gave a quiet chirp and he raised a hand to tap it.
“Go for Holden.” He waited, listening. “Thanks, Doc.”
“What?”
She smiled in answer to the one lighting Mark’s with all the wonder and excitement of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and jogged back into the corridor. “You’re gonna love this!”
Julia trailed after him, keeping pace but not wanting to let go of their joined hands, for fear she’d get lost in the maze of identical corridors. There were more people about now that Mark had led her back into the hub of the city; past Colonel Archer’s office, and across the bridge into the Birdcage.
There were no ground crews or pilots, just rows and rows of metallic-hulled alien spacecraft, which yes, did in fact look like birds – sleeping birds. One opened its hatch as they approached, interior lighting powering up. Julia followed Mark up the ramp and sat in the pilot seat when he asked.
“Put your hands here.” He whispered in her ear, pointing to the flight controls, but was careful not to touch them himself. She looked questioningly over her shoulder at him. “It’s okay, I promise.”
Julia placed her hands on the controls and with a hollow hum the console lit up. When she yanked her hands back and the console powered down. Julia could’ve sworn the little ship pouted and sniffed like a child denied a favorite toy. Mark was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“Well, that’s interesting.”
“What is?”
“Peyton told me you have the X2 gene required to operate the Zydonic tech, like me.”
“Wow.”
Here was proof positive that she and Mark belonging together.
“You love flying, don’t you Wings?” He asked in a dreamy faraway voice. “It’s more than a job to you. You love it. You breathe the freedom of it.”
She nodded, unable to speak through the emotion clogging her throat. Mark got it. He understood, completely.
“You wanna learn to fly these beauties?” He gestured to the glider around them, eyes agleam with a wonder Julia was eager to experience for herself.
Again she nodded, enthusiastic grin plastered across her face. The chance to fly a glider was the equivalent to flying the space shuttle. The career peak a pilot could aspire to. No one in their right mind would ever turn the offer down.
Mark swiveled the chair back round to face him, his hands on the armrests trapping her in place as he nudged her feet with the toe of his boot. Julia parted her knees and he stepped between them, leaned in and kissed her. Breathing hard through his nose and as he tangled his fingers in her hair.
“Amazing!” He whispered, out of breath, before diving back for more of her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers playing in the curls at the nape of his neck.