by Dave Gordon
“Give up? Everything. I would be giving up everything I know.”
“Let us examine a few of the things you would be giving up. A life of perpetual flight. Uncomfortable nights and fearful days. The eventual capture and gruesome death. This doesn't seem too much to sacrifice. We can reach the border in a fortnight.
He is resisting the notion but slowly crumbling. At last he relents.
“Oh, alright. There are worse fates than abiding for ever in the legendary land of perpetual spring.”
“We allow it to rain.”
“It rains in the spring.”
“We sometimes allow it to snow.”
“May we just eat in peace, please?”
He invariably loses these debates. I don't know why he persists. That is one of the things I love about him. He and the horse sleep while I keep guard. I don't believe there are any humans within a day's hard ride, but he will be relieved to know I have guarded the camp all night. They awaken and we take a quick meal. He is anxious to move on. I don't tell him that we are not being pursued. I believe our course is the proper one. He might change his mind if he knew we were safe. He sometimes denies the obvious. I find it endearing. The trip to Anore is made in haste. I do not want him to doubt our present course just because he feels safe. He will never be safe again in the human world. The horse is disappointed. She had hoped we would be proceeding at a more leisurely pace. We finally reach the border after a largely uneventful journey.
When we reach the border, I stand awaiting the pronouncement that will determine his fate and mine. I am apprehensive, a very un-elf-like emotion, but still I wait. The border guards knew of our coming some time ago. The elves who are just out of sight await an explanation of our coming. I tell them our tale in words that cannot be heard, and that my love will not be safe unless we are allowed to enter. This seems to heighten the debate, and I am now openly afraid.
* * * *
Van rolled over and slipped into the pool. Siln raced to grab his head but he surfaced, groaning.
“What happened? Where am I?” he said as he hung on to the rim on the tub.
Siln was more than a little disgusted. “That stuff hits you harder the faster you drink it. When you slammed down the whole bottle, you got all the goods all at once. Ask me before you eat or drink anything, Okay? If you die, I will be the one who killed you.”
Van didn't get the joke. He was still trying to haul himself out of the tub. “How long was I out?”
“Not long. An hour, maybe.”
“That's not too bad. Actually, I think that's short enough to be a new record for me.” Van walked over to the bath closet and retrieved a towel. He preferred the tactile sensation of drying off with a towel rather than the sterile drying wands. “What's that stuff?” he asked.
“This is a suit for you,” she said tossing him the clothes. “Try it on.”
Van held the silky pants up to the light. “No underwear?” he asked.
“You haven't worn underwear for years! Just put the damn thing on.” Siln dressed slowly, savoring the fine material and good fit. The tight-fitting stretch suits of her past held no appeal. They were a symbol of the necessities and compromises she had lived with for the last ten years. She shed her old clothes, but the past would not be as easily dismissed. The clothes she held were a new skin, a disguise. A creature of the dark still lived underneath. Siln wondered if she would ever make the change.
“That doesn't mean I wouldn't like to,” Van whined. “Order me some underwear.”
“Order it yourself. What am I, your damned nursemaid?”
“Yes,” Van replied with a grin.
“Just go over there and tell the thing you want some underwear.” Siln admired herself in the mirror. She had never felt so beautiful. “Wow,” she said under her breath.
Van walked across the room still naked. “Uh, I need underwear?” He didn't know what to expect.
The butler said, “Certainly, sir.”
He was startled by a red beam that swept down his length. A display of underwear appeared before him. Most of the garments were completely unfamiliar to him. He said, “Do you have any 22nd century Earth boxer shorts?”
“Alpha One,” Siln shouted from the bathroom down the hall.
“Oh, yeah. Alpha One 22nd century boxer shorts, please.”
The butler stood motionless for a good twenty seconds. A display of boxer shorts appeared.
“I like those,” Van said pointing at the screen.
“Please touch the garment selected,” the butler said.
Van put his finger through the image displayed before him.
“Fees may reflect custom fitting,” the butler said.
“What does that mean, Siln?” he shouted down the hall.
Siln walked out of the bathroom saying “Where do you think I am, next door? What are you yelling about?”
Van was struck dumb. Siln had been transformed. She no longer looked drawn. Her face was clear, her expression bright. She looked wonderful in the clothes she had selected. “Wow,” he said. “You look great.”
“Think I can land us a date?” she said as she lifted her arms and turned for his inspection.
The butler repeated “Fees may reflect custom fitting.”
Siln turned to the butler and said, “Will you please stop saying that. Just bring the underwear.”
“Certainly, Ms. During.” The image spun on its heel and retreated to the corner.
“Hey, come here. I want to show you something,” Siln said excitedly as she hurried to the bathroom.
Van followed her wondering what could be so interesting.
Siln grabbed a shining rod off a hanger on the wall and said, “Give me your hand.”
Van hesitated. The sight of Siln holding a metal rod suggested caution was advisable.
“Just give me your hand, I'm not going to hurt you.” She took Van's hand and waved the metal rod over it. A warm, yellow light swept across his fingers, the wrinkles over his knuckles disappearing as it went.
Van jerked his hand away. When he realized it hadn't hurt, he looked at the back of his hand. There were no wrinkles on half of his hand.
“That's why all these people look so good, they all have these things. Look at my face", she said, jutting her chin forward.
Her skin was perfect. None of the little scars she had garnered during her rough life remained. She held the wand up to his face and said, “Here, let me do you.”
Van had quite enough of transformative technology when he had changed himself into an invalid. He started to back away. Siln grabbed his shirt and jerked him up against her chest. She waved the wand across his face while he struggled and squirmed. He almost fell when she let go.
“Okay, look at yourself,” she said.
Van turned to the mirror. He faced a much younger version of himself. He looked as he had when he had proudly entered his space ship and taken to the sky.
“It would be hard to get a date with you looking a hundred years old,” Siln said.
“I'm three hundred and fifty years old", Van said as he inspected his new face. He picked up the wand and said, “I wonder if these things will work on corn cells? That would speed the breakdown of sugars for fermentation.”
Siln stared at Van behind his back shaking her head, and left the bathroom muttering to herself.
The underwear was eventually delivered. Siln tipped Hastings thirty commons. Van dressed feeling weird about the suit. Siln told him to relax; he looked like every other business man on the street. They descended to the lobby. All the staff turned to stare at them. Siln laughed to herself. They must think we're really loaded, she thought. Then she remembered that they were.
A door man raced to open the door for them. Siln told Van to tip him. Van didn't know how much so he reached into his pocket and dropped a handful of coins into the man's hand. The doorman's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Siln couldn't suppress a laugh. Van had given him at least twenty commons, an i
nsanely big tip for a doorman. People would be falling over each other to wait on them if they kept it up.
They exited the lodging unit and stepped out onto the busy street. Van was overwhelmed. Siln noticed a few men looking her over. It felt good to be ogled because she looked fine and for no other reason. She took Van's arm and led him into the shopping district. Siln went in and out of stores ordering clothes, makeup, luggage, grooming items, and jewelry. She had them all delivered to the lodging unit. She gave the sales clerk at each store a nice tip and laughed every time they gaped at her in disbelief.
“You hungry?” she asked Van.
“I'm not going to eat for three days after that orgy in the room,” he replied.
“Yeah, me either. You want to go to a parlor?”
“What's a parlor?”
“It's like a bar but they have more kinds of stuff. You'll like it.”
“Well, sure then, let's go.”
Siln walked up to a holo kiosk. She poked at the images and then took his arm and started walking away from the business district. The tall buildings fell behind. The street broadened into a trim boulevard. Ahead of them was a blockish building, plain but well kept. Siln took Van aside, saying “You stick with me. Don't go wandering off. This place is safe enough but I don't want you getting tied up with anything you don't understand, Okay?”
Van believed he probably wouldn't understand anything about a parlor. He told Siln he would stick to her like dried Seven. She laughed at the joke. Supplement seven was the stickiest thing in the universe if it had been spilled and then left to dry.
The stopped n front a door, which Van assumed was the parlor in question and they entered. The interior reminded Van of a carnival. Colored lights wheeled around the ceiling, booths around the walls with mild-mannered barkers hawking their wares. Van could only guess at what they were selling. A kaleidoscope of aromas that Van could not identify swirled through the air. Bits of conversation and laughing drifted across the room. Smiling men and women formed small knots. Siln walked up to a booth and spoke to the man. He produced two large glasses of blue liquid which Siln carried to a vacant table.
She handed Van a glass saying “This is horst. It won't get you drunk, it just smoothes everything out. We'll start out slow and then you can get mashed and fall on the floor.” She held up her glass.
“Here, here,” answered Van as he touched his glass to hers.
The drink was slightly sweet but tangy. It had a refreshing aftertaste. “Hey, that's good,” Van said.
“You have to be a little careful with horst. You'll drink a gallon of it before you know it,” Siln said.
Van looked down and his glass was empty. He didn't remember drinking it.
“Crazy, huh?” Siln said. “You can drink this stuff all night and not remember ever taking a sip. One more and we'll get something better.” Siln finished off her drink and left the table. “Stay!” she said as if giving orders to a dog.
Van barked in reply, to which Siln turned and gave him a dirty look. Van wasn't upset by the looks or the scolding anymore. They didn't mean anything, it was just the way she was. She returned to the table with two young women.
“Van, this is Dorice and Sheyl.” Turning to the young women. Siln said, “This is my traveling companion, Van.”
Van stood up and shook their hands, saying, “Nice to meet you.”
The girls giggled and replied they were also pleased to make his acquaintance.
“See? He is so old fashioned! Nice and polite. He's just adorable.” Siln reached over and pinched his cheek.
Van thought she was laying it on pretty thick, but he played along. “Yes, I'm afraid I am a relic from the past. Did Siln tell you?”
Dorice piped up, saying, “She told us a little, why don't you tell us the rest?”
“I would be glad to, but first, let's get some goodies,” he said causing the girls to start giggling again. “Siln, would you mind getting something for us, please.” Ordinarily he would have ducked after saying that, but Siln just smiled sweetly and left. “Where are you girls from?”
“We're from Gamma Epsilon Seven,” Sheyl said. “We're here on vacation. Isn't it great? Siln said you were too.”
Sheyl had an exotic look. Her face appeared to reflect a diverse racial background. Her dark, slanted eyes were set against olive skin. Van thought she was really very pretty. Siln returned with a tray of strange-looking things. The girls gasped as she began setting them out.
Sheyl said, “Oh, my! I have never had that. Wasn't it expensive?” Siln shrugged casually.
The girls were both impressed with what Siln had purchased. Van supposed that they must be really expensive. He didn't care. They finished off the tray quickly with expressions of rapt pleasure.
“Shall we get another tray?” Van asked.
“Oh, we couldn't!” Dorice exclaimed. “It's way too much money!”
“Really, it's fine. This isn't a lot of money to us.”
Van rose as if to get another tray but Siln touched his arm saying “No, no. I'll get it.” It was all a charade of course, Van had no idea what Siln had ordered.
“She is so good to me,” Van said smiling.
“You two must be very close,” Sheyl asked with a question on her lips.
“Oh, yes. She is like a sister to me. I adore her.”
“Really?” Sheyl said. She was so transparent that even Van could see it.
“Oh, yes. I don't have any family, Siln is all I have. We are as close as any brother and sister could be.” Van smiled at the two girls sweetly. They smiled back. The rest of the night was a wonderful dream.
Van sat looking out the window the next afternoon. The night before was still fresh in his mind. He expected the memories would last a very long time. The girls were not at all hesitant to join them in the luxury suite after leaving the parlor. They were very impressed when the people at the lodging unit practically fought to reach Siln and Van. They had handed out commons indiscriminately. The girls actually let out a shriek when they reached the room. They acted as though meeting Van and Siln was the single best stroke of luck they ever had. They finished the night with a rousing round of sex. Siln ordered a very extravagant breakfast which pleased the girls to no end. Siln ordered them a limousine to take where ever they wanted to go. The girls were most disappointed to hear Van and Siln would be leaving the next day. So was Van. Siln had to go ... Alpha one was pulling at her.
Returning to space was a shock. He had been in space so long that he had forgotten what life was like. He found that he greatly preferred terrestrial life. They settled back into a routine after a time. Siln began to revert to her former self. She gradually became sullen, withdrawn. Van wondered at her transformation but didn't say anything. She spent hours in deep thought, her brow furrowed and jaw set. Van eventually became interested in food unit modifications again. He spent hours lying on his back under a control panel. One afternoon after a prolonged stint under the food unit, Van called out to Siln, “Hey, try supplement eighteen.”
Siln had become accustomed to testing the concoctions Van created. She tolerated it because sometimes he hit a homerun. The ale he produced from the Gamma Epsilon samples had turned out pretty good. She was secretly in awe of him because he had accomplished a feat that had been thought impossible. Being free of rocket fuel was a real blessing.
Siln stood up and stepped over Van who was still under the panel. “Number eighteen,” she said. Siln stood there wondering at the small mound of white powder that had materialized.
“Well?” asked Van.
“Well what? It's just a pile of dust.”
“All right!” Van yelled as he flung himself out from under the panel. He dipped a finger in the powder and tasted it. “Seems like the stuff,” he said.
“Like what stuff?” Siln asked as Van scooped up a bit of the powder with the tip of a knife.
“Opium.” Van put the sample under the molecular analysis unit. The unit was used to diagnose
substances related to medical conditions but Van had altered it to identify a wide range of molecular structures. He made a few adjustments and stared intently at the screen.
“Oh yeah, baby. Come to papa.” He pinched a bit of the powder and put it to his nose. He inhaled sharply and stood there waiting. “Oh, yeah,” he said as he sagged and collapsed onto the floor.
“What the hell did you make?” Siln asked incredulously. She had heard the word opium before, but had never seen any of it.
“It's an alkaloid, an opiate. It took a long time to figure it out on my other ship,” Van said vacantly. His eyes were unfocused.
Siln was tempted to try it, but she decided she wasn't going to use it when she didn't even know what it was. She watched Van slowly roll onto his side as he drooled on the deck. I hope the freak doesn't die, she thought. She wasn't sure what would happen to her credentials if he died.
* * * *
We soar and glide. A rich hydrocarbon updraft coming from the surface feeds us. We reach the heights where the hot blue light gives life. Our sinuous threads spread across the sky soaking up the glorious energy that makes us strong. Our fine crystalline web, translucent and sheer, catches the wind and we are borne aloft. From here the coarse, rough world below is bathed in a soft brown light. The sour methane seas roll softly against the shining glass shores. The brown sludge that flows slowly from the mountain is vaporized and sent aloft by rivulets of molten lead that crisscross the surface. Our brethren that have fallen lay strewn across the surface in sorrow and longing. Many are in shreds, never to soar again. Eventually they will fade but not before agony overtakes them.
We seek a mate, one to meld and bind with. They shall add to us and renew our spirit. We seek across the skies. We meet another and touch them lightly. They tentatively reach back and we draw each other close. Our combined brilliance shines like the suns that drift above us. We pull each other closer until we merge. Our joy is profound and we are blissful. We float higher and higher celebrating our union.
Our happiness is cut short by tendrils of blackness. The twelve! Evil creatures that do not seek to mate but rather to devour. Many of the fallen are their victims. The twelve were once among us, but strayed from the brilliant path. Seduced by the black smoke, they sank into the intoxicating darkness and were filled with lust and desire. The blackness cannot sustain itself for it is dead. It needs emissaries to feed it. The twelve roam the skies in search of victims for their cruel master. Their master is strong, too strong for us.
