“Our love deserved to last forever,” she said, holding her great-granddaughter’s hand. “But since that isn’t possible, I obtained these rings. They would let us live to the age of two hundred years, and in relatively good health that whole time.”
“You weren’t immortal?”
Magdalena laughed. “No, darling. More like charmed than immortal. We were never sick. We never aged. But our time was limited. We had until we lived two hundred years, and then we would die as everyone else. But even that was denied my husband.” Her gaze fell to the ground.
“What happened, Great-gramma? You can tell me.”
“Of course I can, Maggie. Of course I can.” She raised her eyes to the burning sky. “My enemies came for us as we slept. They slew my husband. And they would have slain me, too. But I lead them to their deaths. I discovered who sent them, and I killed them, too. Not that it eased the pain at all. Vengeance is its own satisfaction, my daughter, but it can never heal.”
“They killed him even though he had your ring?”
“Oh, yes. The gift of long life did not come with invincibility. We could certainly be killed before our appointed time.” Magdalena paused. “And he was. But Maggie, those two rings have been handed down from mother to daughter. Before I buried him, I took the ring from his finger. I gave it to your grandmother when she was born, so she would live in good health for a long, long time. When I died, my ring passed to her daughter, Mollie. And that, my darling, is the ring you wear right now, taken from her hand as she died.”
Mags’ eyes shone with understanding. “We wear the same ring. You and me.”
“Yes.”
“I love you so much, Great-gramma. Will you stay with me?”
“I would love nothing more than that. But I can’t.”
“Please!”
“I’m sorry, my beautiful daughter. Nothing would make me happier. But the strain of crossing over to this side—I can’t stay here long.”
“Please stay, Great-gramma!”
Magdalena cupped the young woman’s face in her hands. “Maggie. I will always be with you. Do you understand? I will always be close to you. Even when you cannot see me. Even when you cannot hear me. I will be there, with you. I will watch over you the best I can. I can’t say I understand exactly what’s happened to me. But I can feel the bond between us. Can you feel it, too, Maggie? Can you feel me with you now?”
“I can.”
“Then that is all that matters. It’s no mistake you wear my ring and wear my name, is it?”
“No. Mama named me after you.”
“Good. Now, listen to me. This is an important time in your life. You’ve become a woman. A young woman, with much to learn, but still a woman, do you understand?”
“Yes. My body has changed. And I had to fight to live.”
“That’s right. But it’s even more than that. You have important times ahead of you, Maggie. All of history lies before you, and there will come times people of my day and age never dreamed possible. You will be a part of that. But you need to get out of Europe. Things are about to happen here that no one can stop. Terrible things. I worry for you. Tomorrow, a ship leaves from this country to go to the States, and I want you to get on that ship. Do you understand?”
“No, not at all! What’s coming, Great-gramma?”
Magdalena rubbed a hand back and forth across her crimson lips. “This city here will be bombed into oblivion, for starters.”
“Should I go back to France?” Mags’ face fell. “I don’t know how Gramma could ever forgive me.”
“Margareta would never turn you away. But she will have her hands full with the destruction of our adopted nation. It will be brutal, merciless, and quite hopeless for several years. I want you to go to the States. Do you trust me?”
Mags squeezed her great-grandmother’s hand. “Yes.”
“Good.” Then Magdalena told her where to go the next day, and which train she needed to take south.
When she was done, Mags asked her, “Were you really a pirate? Before Gramma was born?”
In Magdalena’s laughter, Mags heard sails snapping in gale-force winds. She heard waves crashing against wooden hulls with enough power to throw sailors into the watery depths forever. Blood flowed down the length of a saber and splattered on a deck worn smooth by leather boots. Magdalena’s laughter was death spilling over the waves in a relentless storm. It filled Mags with a strange and savage joy. She imagined that one day she, too, might have that kind of laugh.
“Indeed I was.” She eyed the waving sheets of cosmic fire scorching the skies above them. “I can’t stay here much longer, Maggie. The gateway will close soon, and I will have to go. But I could tell you a few stories in the meantime.”
“I’d love that. Did you ever capture a treasure?”
Once again, the oceanic laughter. Magdalena ran her hands over her great-granddaughter’s hair, brushing it back. “My darling daughter, you have no idea. Let me tell you a story.”
Mags cuddled up to her great-grandmother’s breast. She listened to tales of piracy and seafaring mayhem until she fell asleep, purring in Magdalena’s arms, the tip of her tail slowly curling and uncurling.
When she awoke in the morning, no one but her kitten was around. She looked to the bottom of the hill. The scorched earth proved to her the visitation was more than just a dream. She scooped the kitten into her arms.
And then, as her great-grandmother had instructed her, she stole aboard a train, heading southward to the docks.
★ ○•♥•○ ★
26 January 1938.
The New York Times: Late City Edition, page 25.
Reporting on the events of the evening of 25 January: Aurora Borealis Startles Europe, People Flee in Fear, Call Firemen. Britons Thought Windsor Castle Ablaze. Scots See Ill Omen. Snow-Clad Swiss Alps Glow.
From 6:30 to 8:30 P.M., the people of London watched two magnificent arcs rising in the east and west, from which radiated pulsating beams like searchlights in dark red, greenish blue, and purple. From an airplane, the display looked like a shimmering curtain of fire. Police stations, fire brigades, and newspaper offices all over the country were inundated by calls tonight asking, “Where is the fire?” The phenomenon was seen as far south as Vienna. It spread fear in parts of Portugal and Lower Austria while thousands of Britons were brought running into the streets in wonderment. The ruddy glow led many to think half the city was ablaze. The Windsor Fire Department was called out in the belief that Windsor Castle was afire.
★ ○•♥•○ ★
Celina strode down the dock towards the scuffle. Her expensive skirts snapped in the breeze. Three dock workers had their hands full trying to subdue a filthy terror raging and kicking in their midst. As Celina approached, she could see the upstart was a girl, and her fists clenched reflexively. “Rack off,” she shouted. “Leave her alone!”
One of the workers scowled at her. Then a black bolt leapt out of the struggling girl’s arms and onto his face. The kitten howled, digging in its claws.
Celina called out, “Starry!”
The kitten jumped down to the dock and ran for her. Celina scooped him up. “I said stop it!” She drew a knife. Cradling Starry in one arm, she stepped up to the fray.
A dock worker held the ragged girl in a chokehold. “I got the little bitch!”
A second worker closed in on her. The girl kicked him in the testicles. She brought her heel down on her captor’s foot as hard as she could. He screamed.
She broke free from his grasp and stepped away. But instead of running, she adopted a boxer’s stance. The worker with the bleeding face drew a knife of his own.
Celina acted on instinct. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? She’s with me!”
“This brat’s nothing but a stowaway.”
“Pig’s arse! She found my cat, and you whackers are trying to kill her! I should have you strung up by your bollocks and left for vultures!”
Mags stepped
away from her assailants. She did not know this finely dressed, outspoken young woman at all, but she seemed to be helping.
“She tried to board without a ticket,” said the man with the clawed face, “and fought us when we tried to run her off.”
“And that’s a reason for you to beat on a young lady? You should be ashamed of yourselves!”
“No ticket, no ride. That’s the rules.”
“She’s sharing my cabin, you bloody yobbo! I have her ticket right here.” Celina sheathed her knife. She pulled a wad of bills from her brassiere. “Do you see?” She held out the money to the man.
He looked from the cash, to her face, and back to the cash. Then he took the money from her. He unfolded the bills, raising his eyebrows. One of his companions whistled softly. He stuffed the money into his pants pocket. “I see, ma’am. We just had a little misunderstanding, is all.” He gestured past him to the ship. “Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, kind sir.” To Mags, she said, “Come with me, dear. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She walked past the ragged young woman to the ship. “Coming?”
Mags relaxed her stance and unclenched her fists. “Sí.” She boarded the ship and caught up to the older girl. “I could have beat those men.”
Celina laughed. “Oh, too right. But then what? Were you planning to fight every drongo on the boat all the way across the ocean? By the way, my name is Celina.” She held out her hand, smiling.
Mags looked down to her hand, then into her eyes. She saw no malice in their sparkle. She took the offered hand, closing it firmly in her grip. “My name is Mags. Meteor Mags.”
Celina held her hand warmly. “A pleasure, Meteor Mags. Good on ya for finding my little Starry. I was worried sick about him! Where did you find him?”
“The cemetery in London. Some people were being mean to him. But I made them stop. Forever.”
Celina raised an eyebrow, looking Mags up and down. “You’re quite the scrappy little wagtail, aren’t you?”
Mags blushed. “What do you mean?”
Celina’s laughter played on her ears like golden bells. “Oh, it’s just a bird we have back home. Feisty little wagtails. They’re like crows, you know?”
“I thought you were making fun of me.” Mags’ tail whisked the salty ocean air.
“I’d rather not poke fun at any sheila willing to have a blue with those three louts all by herself. Now please, come to my cabin. Don’t take this the wrong way, love, but you look dirtier than a dead dingo’s donger in a dunnycan.”
“A—what?” The young woman seemed to be speaking English, but Mags was not entirely sure.
“Why don’t we find you something to wear, okay? Maybe a bath and a bite to eat?”
“I’d like that.” She followed Celina to her cabin. “You said home. Do you live in the States?”
“I will for a little while. My oldies have some business there. But home will always be Australia for me.”
“Australia? Where they send all the criminals?”
“Our reputation precedes us. But there’s more to Oz than a bunch of convicts. You should go see it for yourself sometime.” Celina opened the door to her cabin. She walked in and set Starry on the narrow bed. Then she pulled out the chair at the tiny writing desk. “Be my guest.”
Mags shut the cabin door behind her. She accepted the offered seat and looked out the circular window towards the ocean. Starry calmly laid down and groomed himself.
“There isn’t much room for the two of us,” said Celina, “but we can sort something.”
“You lied to those men about sharing a cabin.” Mags stated this fact without a hint of accusation in her voice.
“I sure did. But let me tell you something, little wagtail. There are very few problems in the shipping industry that can’t be solved by the application of cash to the proper hands.”
“That sounds like something Mama would say.”
“I see,” said Celina. “Your mama is in the shipping business, too?”
Mags shook her head. “No. She’s—she smuggled guns and supplies for the revolution.”
Celina clapped her hands and laughed. “Mags,” she said. “I can tell you and I are going to be very good mates.”
Within the hour, the ship set out for the States, and Meteor Mags’ life would never be the same again.
EPILOGUE: MOTHERS AND DAUGHTERS
November 1923: France.
“I do wish Mother could be here for this,” said Margareta. “Rest her soul.”
“Me too.” Mollie groaned as another contraction came.
“Breathe, dear.”
Mollie squeezed her mother’s hand. She sat partially submerged in a circular tub. Its tiled interior was supplied with warm water which was heated over a fire and pumped slowly through a pipe to maintain the perfect temperature. Mollie rested on a bench set below the water level.
Katerina, her mother’s personal nurse, appeared in the doorway of the birthing chamber. “Are you comfortable?’
“Ungh.” Mollie grimaced. “Comfy as can be. My little one will be here soon.”
Katerina set a pile of fresh, warm towels on the edge of the tub. To Margareta, she said, “I checked on the businessmen, ma’am. They were none too happy at first, but now they seem content to enjoy dinner and drinks in the billiards room.”
“Good. The acquisition is very important to the future of the Plaza. But they can entertain themselves until after my grandchild is born.”
Mollie cried out again.
“Breathe! Breathe, dear. Just relax.” Margareta clasped her daughter’s hand and breathed with her.
Katerina sat on the edge of the tub, placing her hand on Mollie’s shoulder. She joined them in the rhythmic breathing they had practiced together. “I recall when you were born in this tub,” she said to Mollie. “It seems like only yesterday.” She checked the water for any sign of blood or meconium, but the water was clear and clean. “Everything seems well so far.”
“Oh, god, I can feel it!” Mollie rocked her hips back and forth. “It’s coming.”
Katerina leaned over the side of the tub. “I can see the top of the head!” She reached her hands below the surface to help guide the baby into the water.
Mollie let go of her mother’s hand. She held a firm grip on the sides of the tub. She pushed without straining. The warm water eased her pain.
Margareta hugged her daughter from behind, looking over her shoulder into the water. “The head is clear! Here it comes. Nice and easy, dear.”
Katerina deftly unwound the umbilical cord from around the baby’s neck. “It’s okay,” she told Mollie. “Everything is fine. Just a little more.” The baby, submerged, had yet to take a breath, instead drawing all her oxygen from the umbilical cord.
Then, in one smooth motion, the baby slid out of Mollie’s body, into the water and Katerina’s waiting hands. She scooped the child up and brought her to the surface, right into Mollie’s open arms. But doing so, she noticed something unusual about the child.
“Oh, my baby!” Mollie cradled the child in her arms, holding her daughter close to her breast.
Katerina did not know how to explain what she had seen. So, she quietly took a towel from the side of the tub. With gentle care, she wiped the baby’s face. She checked the infant’s nose and mouth to make sure they were clear of any obstruction. The baby appeared supremely calm as she took her first breath of air.
“My beautiful little girl,” said Mollie. Then a look of shock formed on her face. She moved her hand to see her daughter’s backside.
Margareta looked, too. “What is that?”
“It looks like a tail!” She held her daughter higher, close to her face, and pressed her cheek to the newborn infant.
“Is she alright?” Margareta asked. “Is anything wrong? I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Mollie shook her head. “She’s perfect.” She found it strangely comforting to feel her child purring in her arms. “She’s a perfect little
girl.” Mollie looked into her mother’s eyes. “I’ll name her after her great-grandmother.”
“Mother would be very pleased with that.”
“Let her breathe for a couple minutes,” said Katerina. “Then I will cut the cord.”
“Magdalena,” Mollie said softly. She kissed her daughter’s face, moving gently over the tender cheeks and forehead. “My sweet little Maggie.”
And that was how Meteor Mags came into this world.
Asteroid Underground Interview:
Hyo-Sonn
Hyo-Sonn, welcome to Asteroid Underground.
Thank you.
Does your name have a meaning?
Yeah, I guess so. It’s Korean. It means like gentle daughter.
Does it fit your personality?
Ha. I guess it used to. I don’t feel like it does so much these days.
You’re not gentle?
After what’s happened to me and my friends, I’m kind of pissed off a lot. And as far as being a daughter…
Yes? What happened?
It’s hard to feel like a daughter when your parents abandon you. When they just leave you at some “treatment facility” instead of listening to you. And then you try to tell them what really happens in this place, and they don’t believe you. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Fuck them.
It was, what? A rehab clinic for teenagers?
Yeah, that’s what they tell people. But really, it’s just a place where kids who didn’t do anything wrong get drugged up, beaten, and—other creepy stuff. If you try to speak up or have a problem with what’s going on there, they just drug you senseless. Strap you down. I can’t even talk about what they did to little Sarah. It’s so horrible. How could anyone who loves their kid do that to them?
Maybe they didn’t know?
Meteor Mags: Omnibus Edition Page 29
