by Candace Sams
For his crimes, Goron was dead as well as his whole crew. But she didn’t mention any of that to the medical personnel. They didn’t need to know and she’d been trusted to keep secrets. And so she would.
The trip to the medical facility went quickly. Once there, her friends were taken away.
She stopped at a set of double infirmary doors when hospital staff told her she couldn’t go beyond them to be with Datron. That left her quite alone with her thoughts.
Although tired and hungry, she couldn’t leave. She slowly turned and found a waiting room; aware her disheveled, dirty state wasn’t winning points with any of the other patients’ families.
To take her mind off her problems, she found an empty chair in a corner and sat. Watching any dull program on the visiting room vid screen was better than dwelling on a future she wished she could have.
Feeling sorry for herself had never been an option before. Now, however, she wanted someone with all her heart, and couldn’t figure why he’d come into her life at the very end. It made no sense.
She eventually turned away from the wall vid display.
An odd sensation of floating suddenly overwhelmed her. Then a jolting, fierce pain hit her between the eyes.
Blinded by the unholy, sudden agony in her skull, she tried to call out but didn’t know if a single syllable escaped her lips.
Sudden blackness engulfed her, and she felt herself falling.
Chapter Twenty
In the darkness surrounding her, Charlie heard voices. They seemed to reverberate in her head. Among them was her Datron’s.
In any dimension, in any reincarnation, she’d have known his low baritone voice.
Then she dreamt she awoke and he was holding her.
Electra, Clitus, and Gilla were present. They bore broad smiles on their faces and there were tears in their eyes. Expressions of white-coated strangers around them ranged from triumphant to excited. It seemed people in the distance were shouting and running. It made no sense at all.
But in that misty, unreal place, Datron kept embracing her as if he’d never let her go. Though she couldn’t discern the meaning, his tone sounded so tender and marvelous.
Then, in the way of ethereal goings-on, she felt as if she was floating. Things went dark again but she awoke with the same, unreal sensations.
She sensed she wasn’t where she started. She wasn’t in the hospital waiting area any longer. Her situation had altered in some way.
The dream took a very odd turn in that Datron now held her in a soothing, balmy rain. The whisper-soft water fell down on them as he crooned something.
Strong, tender hands were stroking her hair. Her body was being caressed but in a gentle way that had nothing to do with sensual arousal. It was more like someone was trying to care for her, the same way one would care for someone who’s injured and in need of help.
She heard Datron’s voice again, repeating things as if he was trying to calm her and offer support.
She gazed up at him and it seemed he wore a huge, brilliant smile. The floating sensation came and went. She felt like someone placed her body on a cloud. The softness of the surface beneath her was wonderful.
A very strong, warm body lay next to her. The smell of clean herbal soap filled her nostrils. It mingled with the softness under and around her. Everything was so restful and quiet.
Once more, Datron uttered words that seemed gentle and loving. There was a crooning, encouraging quality to his voice. And there was an undertone of joy, too.
Surely she’d died. And now she could be the person she’d always been inside, without being locked in a dying body.
She was aware of the passing of time but not how much. Then she finally became increasingly aware. When she opened her eyes widely, her sight cleared. The more she lay there staring, the better her vision became.
Reality collided with her dream. There was no cloud beneath her, only a soft bed.
She swallowed hard and tried to piece events together. The last thing she remembered was being in the hospital, waiting to hear about the others.
Beyond where she lay, the surroundings seemed dark. Eventually, she pushed herself into a sitting position though her eyes were still becoming accustomed to the variants of light.
Gradually, she recognized the décor.
She tilted her head and stared into the distance. A wall formed, then another.
I’m in my hotel room!
Since when was the hereafter a swank hotel suite in downtown Cetacea?
Instinct told her it was either dawn or dusk. The room wasn’t dark enough for it to be late at night.
For a long, long time, she simply sat there.
Finally, she lifted her hands to her head. The pain she’d felt in the hospital waiting room was gone, though she felt the same way she would after imbibing a Cosmic Chaos made with rum and purple Ooldan nectar mixed with a shot of Mars Mercury Soda. The combination always mellowed her temperament, which was why she never drank it anywhere near men or outside the confines of her room. Suffice it to say, she knew she hadn’t been drinking, but her head felt as if she had.
Gingerly, she put her legs over the side of the bed. She looked down when her hands came into contact with silky fabric. It suspiciously felt like her aqua-colored, lacey negligee.
So…heaven is a semi-dark hotel room on Oceanus…where I get to wear my hot nightie? Sister Celestine never said anything about this.
She blinked several times and used the edge of the bed to carefully stand. Images began to settle and quit swimming as her eyesight finally adjusted.
A deep, sighing sound immediately behind her caused Charlie to slowly turn.
Even in the very dim light, there was no mistaking the large man sleeping in the bed she’d just left. The giant had long blond hair spilling over his chest and shoulders. His wings, now healed and sparkling white, spread out on either side of his muscular, bronzed body. An indentation in the one nearest to Charlie told her she’d probably been using it as a pillow.
White sheets and a coverlet were lying seductively just below his navel. If he wore anything below that, she couldn’t see any evidence.
Either that’s Datron or God left me one hell of a pillow mint.
She stood there trying to figure out what’d happened.
Finally, she backed away from the bed and the sleeping god-like entity there. Any light in the bedroom might awaken him. Worse, it might bring her back to a reality that wouldn’t be so wonderful.
She moved carefully into the central suite and the bathroom beyond. There, she quickly closed the door behind her, felt for the wall panel controls and passed her hand over the entire console so the full set of lights were activated.
Blinking at the brilliance of the inset crystal ceiling orbs reflecting off rows of glass and polished black marble, she took one look at herself in the mirror and noted she was indeed dressed in her scanty negligee.
Then she sat on the commode-bidet system to get her bearings.
There was no telling how much time passed, but a sudden pounding on the door literally made her fall off her temporary throne and onto the floor.
“Charlie? Are you all right,” Datron demanded. His voice boomed through the closed door and echoed off the marble walls. “Open up!” He continued as he tried to push himself into the bathing area.
She stood, swallowed hard, and finally opened the door. As it had always been when standing so close, she had to tilt her head back to gaze up into his dark eyes.
“Everything okay?” he softly asked. “I woke and found you gone.”
She noted the lights in the other room were on, and then did a double-take when she saw his face. The bruises were gone from his handsome countenance, as well as no horrifying cuts, scrapes and gouges. The left orbit of his eye appeared completely normal, no longer swollen and cracked. In the full light, she clearly saw his wings were indeed perfect. The lovely, soft ultra-white feathers were in perfect order except for being a bit ruffl
ed at the moment. The Ussarian blade incision she’d seen on his left ribcage was also missing.
“Uh…I think I missed something,” she murmured. “The last time I saw you, you were really beat up.” Then she shook her head, dragged her hands through her hair, and walked past him into the sitting area. “How did I get here? What’s going on?”
She saw her large tool chest sitting on the other side of the room against a wall. “I left that near the hangar when I stowed away.”
****
He saw the confusion in her blue-green eyes and realized what the doctors said was true.
She might not remember much, or might misinterpret facts. Apparently, she thought they’d only just arrived back on Oceanus.
Five days separated their return from the present moment.
He and his friends had been healed of their wounds using nanotechnology. His normal appearance, after having endured the gentle touch of Ussarians, wasn’t helping her comprehension.
He’d have to find a way to explain. But it’d be the most wonderful, exciting and miraculous chore he’d ever attempt. Anticipation of telling her the best part filled him with delight.
Now that she was fully aware of her surroundings and no longer under the influence of the painkillers, sedatives, and protein-sustenance shots doctors prescribed in lieu of food, she was ready.
“Meteor, you’d better sit down. We have to talk,” he softly advised.
“What will I hear sitting that can’t be said while I’m standing?”
He noted her suspicious, wary expression. It wasn’t because she feared him. He knew better. Rather it was because she probably didn’t believe any of this was real. Doctors advised him this might be the case. But no one was certain since such a miracle as hers had never happened.
He slowly moved toward her, pulled her into his embrace, and walked her to the nearest sofa. It was luxurious, white affair that was conveniently sized for even a man of his larger proportions. He’d have rather had her in the woods, viewing a beautiful garden scene, or by the beach at sunset. But she had to know now.
“Baby, do you remember passing out?”
She nodded “I was sitting in the hospital waiting room, got a colossal headache and just checked out.”
“That was five days ago, Charlie. I’ve been given leave of absence to look after you.” When she stared at him blankly, he continued with what he hoped was some logical progression of events. Given his excitement and utter need to get to the gist of the matter, it could prove almost impossible but he must do this right.
“How did my tool chest get here?”
“Clitus and Gilla found it and had it sent.”
“Five days? I was really out that long?”
He brought her hands up to his lips and kissed the back of them. “That’s right, Charlie.” Then he swallowed hard and tried to dredge up tact worthy of a life-altering moment. “Baby…I-I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”
“Okay,” she responded with that same look of suspicion pasted on her face.
“W-we thought we couldn’t tell the doctors what was wrong with you without mentioning the Lucent Stone dust you inhaled. But the king took matters in hand and explained the entire situation to physicians he trusts. And they think they understand what happened.”
“What’s the stone dust got to do with me passing out?”
“Sweet meteor…the reason you weren’t mentally altered by the dust Goron used, when anyone else would have been, is because of the diseased enzymes that were in your cerebral fluid.” He tried to contain himself and continue slowly, so she’d know he was in earnest.
“What I’m trying to say is…the doctors think the Lucent Stone dust and the disease in your brain basically cancelled each other out. They say it’s what eventually caused you to go unconscious. Medical personnel got your medical history from Electra. To have a reason for obtaining your medical records to begin with, she told them you’re her niece. Like I said, the king basically explained everything to certain physicians anyhow so her ruse wasn’t necessary. But I think she just likes saying you’re related to her,” he blathered as he briefly closed his eyes while pulling her closer. “To get to the point, from what they saw in their scans and diagnostics over the past days, no one can find a trace of either Black Hole Syndrome or anything else that isn’t completely normal.”
She stared at him, blinking, as if the news just wouldn’t register.
“Sweetness, in a fit of scientific discovery the likes of which you’ve never seen, the doctors the king spoke with have performed every test known. That was when they discovered that samples of your cerebral fluid, taken for initial testing after you passed out, could be synthesized into a cure. They’re already transmitting their discovery to every medical facility in the galaxy. And they’re insisting on keeping your records, as the cure source, anonymous. While we know it was the Lucent Stones that cured you, the rest of the galaxy doesn’t. And no one else needs to. The physicians have their cure and it can be reproduced in any good lab. Understand?”
Silence ensued.
He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. Eventually, he let it out and waited.
She simply stared at him.
“Do you understand what I’m telling you, Charlie?” He spoke slowly and carefully while holding her. “You don’t have Black Hole Syndrome any longer. You’re healthy. You’re not going to die!”
She put her palms on either side of his face. “Wing man, you have to listen to me and accept facts. There…is…no…cure. You need to understand that, and you need to get on with your life when I’m gone,” she softly told him.
He covered her hands with his. “I’m not in some pain-filled delusion the way I was on the Hyperion, Charlie! This is for real. Electra, Clitus, and Gilla are down the hall in Electra’s suite, partying themselves stupid over the news.” He took a deep breath, then tried again. “Baby, we not only got the mission finished because of you, but you get to live a normal, healthy life. If you don’t believe me, I’ll contact the others and they can attest to it. They were there when the doctors said so. They were there when the physicians let me bring you back here. Three pathologists declared you cured. They said you simply needed a quiet, sheltered place to emotionally absorb the news when you eventually woke, and I begged them to let me take you out of that seriously morbid hospital room!”
For the longest moment, she sat there frozen. Then she pushed his arms away and slowly stood.
“Are you all right?” he asked louder as he also stood. There was an almost panicked look in her lovely eyes.
She slowly turned away. He saw her hands begin to shake. Then she turned her head toward her tool chest and lunged for it.
“Charlie, what are you doing? What’s wrong?” He asked, stunned by her response to the startling, but fantastic news.
Charlie ignored him, unfastened her tool chest, dug into the bottom of it and came up with a square silver box that had louvered handles on the front—a long black cord was attached.
She tossed this onto the carpeted floor then started flinging out tools she apparently wanted.
He dragged his hands through his hair.
What was he supposed to do now? No one said she might respond like this, though counselors warned she would most certainly respond with denial. He called out to her several times, but she still ignored him. Rather than stop her, he let her go on. Maybe this tinkering would make her feel better and she’d be more willing to listen.
She knelt on the carpet, grabbed up the silver box and began to furiously take it apart.
Suddenly, an excuse for her bewildering behavior hit him hard.
His heart and soul went out to the waif-like presence on the floor, trying to repair yet one more thing.
This was her only way of coping.
When Charlie was a little girl and had first been told she’d die early, she’d resorted to repairing objects. Electra confirmed that this seemed to have been Charlie’s way
of organizing the disorderly; her way of dealing with a world out of control.
Since she couldn’t fix what was wrong with her, she fixed everything else.
Tears flowed down her cheeks as she worked, then he sat down beside her and tried to check his concern. She needed him to keep it together.
He caught a glimpse of the little girl adults had left behind when they’d discovered she wasn’t the perfect baby they’d wanted. Her small, slender fingers were shaking so badly she could barely hold the micrometer wrench in her right hand. He reached out and put both of his palms over hers. “Charlie, tell me what to do? I’ll help you,” he softly promised.
“J-just hand me that t-three-quarter fusion bar and that p-portable…thingy,” she finished while pointing at a small power pack.
She couldn’t even name the tools of her trade. Her senses were so rattled at the news he’d so carelessly blurted that she could very well have some kind of breakdown.
He had to let her finish what she was doing. To try and stop her almost seemed cruel, so he helped. He couldn’t imagine what was going on in her mind or how he’d feel if he found out a life-long illness was cured, and he wasn’t going to die after all. He supposed he’d have been overjoyed, elated, and ecstatic. But Charlie was made of different mettle. Her entire life had been planned around dying. She was finding this new truth hard, if not impossible, to grasp.
For the next hour he did whatever she asked and handed her whatever tool she required. When it appeared her work was done, he sat back and waited for her to quit staring at the silver box. When she made no sound and didn’t move, he prompted her with a question.
“What is that? What did you just make?” he whispered.
“I-I got it at an antique store back on Earth. The man who sold it to me said people used to stick slices of bread in it and burn them.” She paused. “I d-don’t know w-why anyone would do that.”
“Well, it’s certainly…shiny,” he offered.
“It w-was the last thing I was going to fix before I…” her voice faded away. Then she blurted something that didn’t make sense. “Y-you know, I really didn’t crack stone melons between my thighs for the talent portion of the Miss Milky Way pageant. That thing I did to Goron was a self-defense move the nuns taught me. Th-they said that s-since I was so small, I needed to know how to deal with a son-of-a-bitch if it became necessary.”
