by Glenn Smith
Olivia smiled her warm welcoming smile again and said, “Great. Let’s go then,” and then stood up and reached down to take Dylan’s hand. After only a moment’s pause he gave it to her and let her help him up. Then he walked with her, hand in hand—she didn’t loosen her grip in the slightest and he didn’t want to be so rude as to yank his hand free—down over the harder wet sand and into the gentle surf.
Chapter 12
After swimming with Olivia for a while, and enjoying every minute of it, Dylan spent the rest of the afternoon lying out under the artificial sun and talking with her, getting to know her a little better. He learned that she was born in Sydney and raised by her older sister after their parents, whom she could barely remember, were killed in a spaceliner crash when she was very young. She’d recently turned twenty-one, but had only enlisted a year and a half ago after, as she put it, “her horn-dog boyfriend knocked up her thieving bitch sister.” She was less than three months shy of finishing her junior year of college, majoring in Business Administration with a minor in Commercial Finance, and was planning to apply to Officer Candidate School next year, after she earned her degree. Her long-term plan was to serve as long as necessary in Solfleet while she built her own business on the side—she hadn’t decided yet exactly what kind of business that would be—and then retire from the service to run that business fulltime once it took off, and hopefully grow it into some kind of giant corporate empire.
As the afternoon stretched into evening and the beach gradually emptied of visitors, they sat quietly and watched the sun sink slowly beyond the horizon, accompanied by the songs of unseen seagulls as it painted the high ribbon-like clouds drifting in for the occasion in beautifully rich reds, flaming oranges, and golden yellows that reflected off the sparkling surface of the sea like lights off the facets of a million brilliant white diamonds and colorful precious gems. As artificial as the entire display was, it proved no less effective than the real thing in setting the mood and stirring up feelings of romance that made forgetting its artificial nature very easy, and although Dylan had enjoyed Olivia’s company well enough, he wished that Beth could be there to enjoy it with him instead.
As soon as the sun had dipped below the surface of the sea and the gulls’ songs had fallen silent, Olivia turned to Dylan in the fading light of dusk and quietly asked him, “Would you like to go out to dinner with me?”
Dylan looked back at her and thought about it as he gazed into those beautiful blue eyes, and he quickly realized that although he’d already spent several hours with her, he didn’t want to say goodnight to her. Not yet. He really had enjoyed spending that time with her, and dinner at a nice restaurant would certainly be a nicer way to conclude their date—did he dare think of it that way?—than simply saying goodnight. He just had one little problem. “All I’ve got are blue jeans and sneakers,” he told her. “I don’t have anything nice to wear.”
“That’s all right,” she assured him. “My favorite restaurant on this whole station isn’t that formal anyway. Come on, Dylan. Going out to dinner with me will be a lot more fun than eating by yourself at one of the dining facilities.”
“Can’t argue with that,” he readily admitted.
“No, you can’t,” she affirmed, smiling.
“All right,” he said, smiling back at her. “I’ll meet you for dinner in an hour. What’s the name of the restaurant and how do I find it?”
She gave him the name and told him how to find it, and then they parted ways to go back to their respective quarters to get ready.
* * *
They reunited just over an hour later at what Dylan found to be a not too fancy but still very nice oriental restaurant near the top of the civilian side of the station. The hostess seated them at a table beside a window that provided a breathtaking view of mother Earth, handed each of them a menu, and then bowed and left them to select their meals.
Clear skies were giving way to a thick blanket of storm clouds slowly rolling in from the Atlantic, blotting out the splashes of bright golden light scattered across the land one city after another as night slowly crept across Western Europe, but much to his own surprise, Dylan only had eyes for Olivia. She’d worn a short blue denim skirt—to make him feel more comfortable in his blue jeans, perhaps?—a bright red blouse that she’d only buttoned halfway up in front, and a pair of knee-high black leather boots that he liked very much. She’d made herself up quite beautifully, too, without overdoing her makeup, and had pinned the sides of her hair back like a princess from a fairy tale in much the same way as Diane often had back in high school. Olivia was truly a beautiful girl—a girl who reminded him a lot of his neighbor back on Cirra, now that he thought about it.
The neighbor he’d wanted so much to sleep with before he met Beth.
He dropped his gaze to the menu he held in his hands. Beth. He wished she could be there with him. He missed her so much, but he also realized that to sit there and think about his fiancée all evening wouldn’t be fair to Olivia, who only wanted to enjoy an evening out together, so as their waitress approached to take their orders, he determined not to do that.
At some point during their meal, Dylan mentioned that he’d been thinking about catching a show later, though he hadn’t decided which one he wanted to see yet. When he asked Olivia for a recommendation she told him that she’d been wanting to catch the extremely controversial new Douglas J. Von Reardon play that had recently opened to mixed reviews over in the adults-only entertainment area. Dylan didn’t know which play that might have been, but he had heard a lot of interesting things about that considerably twisted and notorious master playwright over the years, so he offered to take her to see it. She happily accepted his offer, so after dinner they wandered over there and caught the evening’s performance of “Evil Incarnate,” in Dylan’s time still the most critically acclaimed non-musical drama of Von Reardon’s career.
The nearly three and a half hour-long play told the fictitious story of a group of colonists who left the Earth to settle on an untamed world, only to be abducted and enslaved upon their arrival by agents of the Veshtonn Empire. Once enslaved, the colonists were brutally mistreated, often raped and tortured and sometimes murdered, strictly for the entertainment value of it all. The story’s incredibly sadistic antagonists preserved the bodies of the dead and posed them in a myriad of perverse ways in what eventually grew into a sort of museum of human terror. In the end they paid dearly for their horrific crimes at the hands of the heroic forces of the Solfleet Marines, but the epilogue fell far short of the more traditional happy ending that most other plays usually presented. Especially for the protagonists.
Even for a specifically adult-oriented production, “Evil Incarnate” presented its shocked and in many cases horrified audience with an almost scandalous amount of uninhibited nudity, sadistic quasi-sexual situations, and extraordinarily graphic violence. A number of people got up and left the theater at various times throughout the performance, and more than a few apparently fainted and had to be helped out. But Von Reardon had long been known for his willingness to risk such things with his work, and in the end it paid off for him once again. As a purely edge-of-your-seat work of adult theatrical drama, the show was absolutely incredible. The curtain fell to a boisterous standing ovation that lasted for more than fifteen minutes while the cast returned to the stage for one encore after another, after another.
As they left the theater after the show, Dylan offered to escort Olivia back to her quarters, keenly aware that their friendly afternoon at the beach and dinner had become something more—something very much resembling that ‘date’ he’d begun to contemplate back at the beach. He realized that by walking her home he would only make it seem even more so, and that he might very well be risking allowing things to go a lot further than he intended them to. But offering to walk her home was the polite and courteous thing to do, and so he offered, and when she happily accepted that offer he took her gently by the hand and led her away.
; As they casually strolled through the corridors on their way to the single enlisted dorms, they couldn’t help but talk about the play. Neither of them had ever seen anything quite like it before. Nothing intended to entertain at least, Dylan qualified in his own mind, thinking back on those horrific, sadistic atrocities that had been perpetrated against the person of the Cirran crown prince’s consort before he and Marissa rescued her. They immediately agreed that although Von Reardon was clearly one very disturbed individual, he was also the consummate expert when it came to producing a live show that could reach out and grab its audience and hold on tight until the curtain fell.
“This is it, Dylan,” she said when they arrived at the door to her quarters. Dylan glanced at his watch and sighed as she punched in her code and unlocked the door. Almost 0100 hours already and he had an early morning flight to make. Her door swished open. “Want to come in for a drink?” she asked him, smiling. “I have some really good twelve year old scotch.”
Go inside with her for a drink? Admittedly, he would have liked to do so, but he knew all too well how easily an innocent nightcap could lead to something far less innocent, and he didn’t want to take that chance. Beth didn’t deserve to be cheated on, even unintentionally. “I have an early flight out in the morning,” he told her. The disappointment that filled her eyes as her smile melted away tugged at his heart strings, but he couldn’t let that sway him. He’d had a good time with her, but it was time to say goodnight. “I should head back to my quarters and hit the sack.”
“Just a nightcap to say goodbye?” she pleaded, gazing deeply into his eyes.
She certainly wasn’t making it easy, but he stood his ground. “I appreciate the invitation, Olivia, but I really do need to get to bed. Besides, I’m not much of a drinker anyway.”
Her disappointed gaze fell briefly to the deck. Then she stepped up to him and gave him a warm, friendly hug, which he gladly returned. “Thank you for a great day, Dylan,” she said.
“You’re welcome, Olivia, and thank you,” he responded. “I had a good time.”
She smelled delicious, and as she stood there in his welcoming arms, pressing her body firmly against him, apparently not wanting to let him go, he felt himself beginning to respond to her in that way he had responded to Beth on their first night together—that primitive and carnal way which, when he thought about it, wasn’t at all surprising. She was, after all, a very beautiful and sexy young woman. He only hoped that she couldn’t feel it as well.
She kissed him softly on the cheek, very close to his lips, and lingered there briefly, then finally relaxed her hold on him and stepped back. But rather than just let him go, she slid her hands down over his arms and took his hands into hers. Then she looked him dead in the eye and pleaded once more, “Please, Dylan. Won’t you come in? Just for a few minutes? One little drink won’t hurt you. It might even help you sleep, after that play we just sat through.”
He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as he thought it over for another moment. The fact was he’d thoroughly enjoyed spending his day with her—he’d admitted that to himself more than once already—and she’d obviously enjoyed spending her day with him or she wouldn’t be inviting him in. Was it really necessary to spoil the evening for her now over something as trivial as a few extra minutes of sleep—to leave her with an unhappy memory of how their short time together had ended, rather than with a happy memory of how they’d enjoyed the evening? The answer was clearly ‘No.’ It wasn’t necessary at all. Finally, he grinned and answered, “All right.”
Olivia smiled like a child on Christmas morning, then took him eagerly by the hand and led him inside.
Was she lonely? Was that why she’d already spent nearly twelve hours with him and still wanted so badly for him to stay for a drink? Was that why she wanted him to spend more time with her? Dylan couldn’t imagine that a young woman as nice and as attractive as Olivia would ever have any trouble finding a boyfriend or six. Hell, after just one day with her he already knew that if circumstances were different he wouldn’t hesitate to ask her out again. Whatever her reasons for wanting him to stay, it was up to her to share them with him or not, as she chose. For his part, he would spend a few more minutes with her. He would have a drink with her and then go back to his guest quarters and go to bed. Hell, if he could survive an entire bottle of Benny’s vodka, he could survive one glass of scotch.
“Have a seat,” she said, pointing at the couch. She let go of his hand, then turned on the lights and keyed the door closed. “I’ll fix the drinks.” She headed into her kitchen.
Dylan glanced around her quarters as he walked over to the couch and took a seat to wait. He’d almost forgotten how warm and comfortable the single lower enlisted quarters were here as compared to most other duty stations. Only the best for those at headquarters. A living room with a full-size sofa, two over-stuffed recliners, and a fully equipped entertainment center, a separate bedroom and bath, a fully equipped kitchen... They were a lot nicer than anything Olivia’s peers aboard the fleet’s vessels could ever expect to get, even twenty-three years in the future.
He snickered at that as he gazed at her. Twenty-three years. It was actually kind of funny when he thought about it. Well, funny and... confusing? Was that the right word? Here in the past Olivia was roughly eight years younger than him. But back home in the future, in his own time, she was almost fifteen years older... assuming, of course, that she was even still alive.
Assuming that anyone was still alive.
Speaking of her peers... “Do you have a roommate, Olivia?” he asked.
“Yes, I do,” she answered, “but she’s on leave right now, so you don’t have to worry that we’re disturbing her, or that she might walk in on us at any moment.”
She returned with their drinks and handed one to him, then set the other one down on the coffee table in front of her as she sat down beside him. She took her boots and socks off and set them out of the way, then raised her feet up off of the floor, straightening her legs, and stretched out her calves. “Oh yeah,” she practically grunted. She rotated her feet, cracking and popping her ankles, and then curled and flexed her toes. “Oh, that’s so much better. I love those boots, but they look a lot nicer than they feel.”
She stretched her calves once more and then dropped her feet back to the floor, then scooted forward to the edge of the couch, seemingly not caring that that made her skirt slide a little farther up on her hips. She picked up her glass, looked at it for a moment, and then turned toward Dylan and held it up to propose a toast. “To a fun afternoon on the beach, a rather twisted yet somehow still quite entertaining evening at the theater, and most importantly, to a newfound friendship,” she proclaimed.
“I’ll drink to that,” Dylan said, and then they gently clinked their glasses together and drank. After his experience with Benny’s vodka, he was more prepared for the little fire that gently burned its way down his throat and into his chest when he swallowed, so he managed not to embarrass himself by breaking into a coughing fit. Then, deciding that her twelve year old scotch really wasn’t that bad after all, he drank the rest of it down in one gulp.
“I told you it was good scotch,” Olivia said with a smile. “Would you like some more?”
“I’d better not,” Dylan answered over the lingering burn. A little too much fire that time. He leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table. “I really should get going.”
She laid a hand on his leg to stop him from standing up. “Oh c’mon, Dylan. You just got here. Stay a little while longer?”
He glanced at his watch again. 0107. He knew he was going to regret it in the morning, but he consented anyway. “All right. One more drink, Olivia, and then I really have to go. I have an early flight, so I’ve got to get to bed.”
“I promise,” she decreed, raising her right hand as if to swear a solemn oath as she picked their glasses up in her left and stood up. “You’ll be in bed before you know it.”
She went
back into the kitchen and then returned a few moments later carrying the nearly full bottle of Scotch in one hand and their still empty glasses in the other. “It’s easier this way,” she explained, holding them up where he could see them better as she approached. She set them back down on the coffee table without sitting and said, “Wait for me, Dylan. I’ll be right back.” Then she walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.
Dylan licked his lips and swallowed hard, well aware of what she was probably doing in there—slipping into something more comfortable, as it were. He knew it. He knew he shouldn’t have come inside with her. But he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings. Damn his sense of empathy anyway. Had she brought him here intending to seduce him all along? Probably. After spending the day with her and growing to like her, not to mention missing Beth, did he have the strength of will to resist her for Beth’s sake, the way he’d resisted Marissa for so long? Maybe not. Olivia was one very beautiful, sexy young woman. How easy it would be to just forget everything and lie down between those gorgeous legs and...
He shook his head to derail that train of thought, hopefully for good. He had a mission to carry out and that kind of distraction was the last thing he needed. But then she emerged from her bedroom wearing a short blue satin robe only loosely tied off around her waist, its neckline plunging very low in front, and as far as he could tell she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.
Her breasts bounced slightly as she approached, and by the time she sat back down beside him, two distinct bumps had appeared where her nipples pushed against the thin material. And when she leaned forward and picked up the bottle to refill their glasses, the front of her robe fell open, exposing most of her bare left breast.
Dylan dropped his gaze to her smooth, bare thighs while she refilled their glasses, but he couldn’t quite see whether or not she was wearing any panties.
