Rogue Planets

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Rogue Planets Page 3

by M. D. Cooper


  Ramsey took a step back. “Shit, your jacket’s dissolving.”

  Cindy didn’t even have time to pull it off before the coat fell from her in tatters.

  “I can’t beeswaxing believe it!” She exclaimed while staring down at the malicious, white…whatever it was that covered her body. “I’m going to freeze out there! How can I be a f-aaaaascinating fu-uuuuturistic pretty princess if I d-d-d-doze off from cold?”

  “ ‘Doze off’?” Ramsey asked, appearing puzzled. “I guess you do kinda go to sleep before you die from cold.”

  Cindy shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I just can’t say the word I mean…you know, the one about what happens when your body doesn’t tick-tock anymore, and you go to everlasting sleep.”

  “What, like Sleeping Beauty?” Ramsey asked, a half-smile on his lips.

  “Very funny, Ramsey,” Cindy replied crossly—though she giggled anyway.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. “I get it, ‘die’. You don’t want to die from the cold. But I don’t think you have to worry about it.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she pouted as she watched him pull on a long, puffy, warm coat.

  “You know,” he said as he pulled up the fastener, “Vampy’s right. I think you shouldn’t fight this so much. You were doing so well for a while, but now you seem to be struggling again.”

  “Well, I want to be me!” Cindy squeaked.

  “You’re still the same,” Ramsey smiled. “Just a little softer around the edges. You’re still strong and brave, an excellent member of the team. I think you look great in the dress, too, but the catsuit is nice, as well. Certainly better than what you used to wear.”

  Cindy opened her mouth to reply, but then stopped, her dainty eyebrows furrowing. “If I didn’t know better, Colonel Ramsey, I would think you were a bit sweet on me.”

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze before he turned to the outer airlock and palmed it open. “Well, you are my wife, after all. It would be strange if I didn’t adore you.”

  she asked Laylani as the airlock opened, sending in a blast of cold air that didn’t seem to affect her at all.

 

  Cindy glanced at Ramsey as they walked down the ramp onto the snowy landing pad.

 

  Cindy sent a self-deprecating laugh over the Link.

 

  Cindy allowed.

  At the bottom of the ramp, a man in a thick jacket, his head half wrapped in scarves, waited beside a groundcar, the expression on his face showing that he was more than a little surprised to see Cindy unbothered by the climate.

  “Uh…hello,” he said as they approached. “Colonel Ramsey and Cindy, I presume?”

  “Indeed,” Ramsey replied. “I assume you’re from the resort?”

  The man nodded. “Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Henry, and yes, I’m from Port Charles. We always send a car for such prestigious guests as yourselves.”

  Cindy wondered what sort of visitors Allaran and this ‘Port Charles’ usually got that anyone walking off the Van could be considered ‘prestigious’.

  Ramsey said privately to Cindy.

 

  She wanted to slap herself for having said that, but she drew a deep breath instead. They were undercover, and like it or not, she had to completely surrender herself to being Cindy in order not to blow it.

  Laylani mused.

 

  Cindy met Henry’s gaze and gave him a sweet smile, then faked a shiver to get the show on the road.

  “Oh, my manners again,” Henry said, quickly opening the car door. “You must be freezing, Cindy.”

  “A bitty bit,” she replied. “But beauty and fashion have their price.”

  She climbed in first, followed by Ramsey.

  “No other luggage?” Henry asked as he picked up the small case Ramsey had carried down the ramp.

  “No,” Ramsey replied. “We’ll just buy whatever else we need.”

  Henry grinned broadly as he closed the door behind them. “Very good, very good.”

  A minute later, Henry was pulling the car away from the Van’s docking cradle and navigating through the nearly vacant spaceport.

  “We’re quite glad to have you,” Henry called back from the front seat. “Now that we’ve been warming up our climate, a lot more visitors are coming by. Some places on Allaran are positively balmy now.”

  Cindy chastised Ramsey before speaking aloud. “Oh, yes?” She didn’t even fight the lilting squeak in her voice. “How warm are they?”

  “Just above freezing!” Henry exclaimed. “It’s really quite the thing to see a hillside of snow just melt away!”

  Cindy said to Ramsey.

  He chuckled and placed a hand on her thigh.

  Cindy’s voice rose in pitch over the Link.

  Ramsey said calmly.

  Cindy was surprised that she felt a bit dismayed at Ramsey’s words.

  And here I thought he was getting sweet on me.

  Ramsey added as he ran his hand back and forth on her leg.

  Cindy felt a shiver run through her at his touch, and could have sworn that her outfit began to sparkle more.

  The ride to the ‘resort’ took only half an hour, and Cindy had to work hard to hide her disappointment that it was over so soon as they pulled up next to the front doors.

  “Ooooooh! It’s a ski resort,” she noted while peering out the window.

  “Sorry, hon, I thought I’d mentioned that,” Ramsey said. “I know how much you like being active. I thought it could be fun.”

  Cindy considered the colonel’s words. She was rather fond of extreme sports, like planet-diving, but had never tried something as tame as skiing. Perhaps they’d at least have some crazy slopes she could hit.

  Ramsey added privately.

 

  he shrugged apologetically as Henry got out of the car.

  Cindy felt a strange impulse, and she went with it. She gave Ramsey a sweet smile and leant over to kiss his cheek.

  She could see the colonel’s cheeks redden slightly, and he gave her a sidelong look. “Ooookaaaay.”

  Cindy giggled and stepped out of the car, breathing in the crisp, cool air and stretching her arms high as she looked around.

  Something about the landscape seemed wrong, and she frowned at the hills across the road from the resort. Then it hit her.

 

  he replied as they followed Henry into the resort.

  here, which means it doesn’t here.>

  Ramsey slid an arm around Cindy’s waist, resting his palm against her hip, sliding it back and forth.

  She felt a strange tightness in her chest.

 

  Cindy nodded, wondering if that’s all that was going on. He had given her some long looks over the last few weeks, even going so far as asking her what vids she wanted to watch in the rec room on his movie night—something he’d never done before, with anyone.

 

  They walked up the steps to find the inside of the resort to be warm and cozy. A fire burned in a large fireplace on one side, warming the stone floors and casting a comforting, red glow around the room. Soft-looking chairs and sofas were artfully arranged in the space, with thick furs covering them for added comfort. The walls were made of logs, and trimmed with thick planks, the look completed by heavy beams that supported the ceiling.

  Clearly this world had a lot of wood at one point, at least, Cindy thought.

  Henry led them to the front desk, where he set Ramsey’s case down.

  “I’ll just go around the back,” he said. “Pell should be along shortly.”

  “Pell?” Ramsey asked.

  “Yes, he’s on the desk today, probably just seeing to another guest,” Henry replied with a winning smile.

  Cindy gave Ramsey a peck on the cheek and walked toward the fire, holding out her hands to feel the natural warmth pouring off it.

  she told him.

  Ramsey replied.

  Cindy nodded as she sat down on one of the sofas, running her hand over the thick furs. She was no expert on such things, but they looked natural.

 

 

  she asked.

  He turned to grin at her, but she shot him a look of surprised anger.

 

  he gave a worried smile.

 

  Ramsey raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up in a smile. He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the arrival of Pell—who looked suspiciously like Henry.

  Not interested in the typical check-in banter, Cindy turned back to the fire, watching the flames dance while wondering if anyone else worked at the resort. So far, not another soul had walked through the foyer.

  Just as she was imagining how creepy being alone in the resort would be with no one other than Henry-Pell around, an old man pushed through a nearby doorway and walked toward the hearth. He was stooped over, almost looking like the cane that helped him walk, but he managed to make good time nonetheless.

  Once he reached the fire, the man set his cane against the stone chimney, and turned to the firebox next to it. The box’s lid creaked as he opened it, and he bent over so far that Cindy let out a small squeak, afraid that he would fall in.

  Right before the tipping point, the old man’s forward motion stopped, and he began to struggle with something inside.

  Cindy couldn’t help herself and quickly rose to her feet, striding to the man’s side, where she saw that he was attempting to pull a sizable log out of the box—which appeared to extend beyond the wall, and held a lot more wood than she would have expected.

  “Please, let me assist you with that, good sir,” Cindy offered, almost singing the words.

  The old man turned his head, his eyes meeting hers before glancing down at her bright white outfit.

  “Oh, no. Can’t have the guests get all covered with woodchips and sawdust. I’ll get it out, don’t you worry.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Cindy smiled. “It’s very hard to soil my clothes. I’m stronger than I look, too.”

  The old man looked like he was going to argue, but then a pained look came across his face, and he nodded slowly. “OK, lassie, but be careful. If you hurt yourself, Pell over there will give me what-for.”

  Cindy gave the man a kindly smile before reaching into the firebox and pulling on the log the man had been struggling with. It wasn’t too heavy, only ten kilos or so, but it was wedged under another log, and even took her a bit of elbow grease to get it free.

  When she did, the old man whistled in appreciation. “Well now, I wouldn’t have thought a little thing like you would have so much muscle.”

  “I like to exercise,” she said lamely as she carried the log to the fireplace to toss it in.

  Just as she swung her arms back, the old man cried out for her to stop, but Cindy was already in motion, and let the log fly.

  It landed in the midst of the flames, and a shower of sparks flew out, half of them hitting Cindy, with the rest landing on the stone floor around her.

  “Oh shoot, oh dear, oh my,” the old man said as he hobbled over to her.

  Cindy looked down, not surprised to see her outfit entirely undamaged—not even a trace of soot on it.

  “Whoops!” she tittered. “I didn’t think it would do that. I don’t have a lot of experience with logs and fires.”

  The old man breathed a sigh of relief as he looked her up and down. “That’s quite the fancy suit you have there. A lot nicer than anything I’ve seen on folks around here.”

  “We’re from off-world,” Cindy replied, and was surprised to see a frown darken the old man’s features.

  “Not from Crossbar, I hope.” He ground out the words like they might be his last.

  She shook her head quickly. “No, no, from, uhhhh, New Eden. We’re on a grand holiday, traveling through the stars!”

  The old man’s frown disappeared, and he smiled while patting Cindy’s hand. “Well, you be careful. We’re sure glad you came here to visit with us.”

  “Why, thank you,” she replied, and watched as the old man grabbed his cane and hobbled back toward the door he’d entered through.

  “That sure was nice of you to help him,” a voice said from behind Cindy, and she turned to see a woman with bright red hair standing behind her. “Poor old Bart likes to think he can still do everything around here, but every year, it’s getting harder and harder for him.”

  “He seems like a nice old man,” Cindy said, looking the woman up and down.

  She wore tall, green boots, red leggings, and a red coat with green trim. Her hair cascaded around her shoulders, and Cindy had the errant thought that perhaps the woman was an elf—before she recalled they weren’t on the Disknee World any longer.

  “He is,” the woman nodded. “I’m Gemma. Are you a guest here?”

  Cindy nodded and gestured to Ramsey, who was going over something or other with Pell at the front desk. “Yes, I’m Cindy. I’m here with my husband, Colonel Ramsey.”

  “Oh, how delightful. My husband likes to come here during the slower days, when not as many other guests are around. It often makes my vacations a bit dull. Maybe the two of us can spend some time together.”

  The red woman’s smile was infectious, and Cindy beamed in response, clapping her hands together. “That would be very nice, Gemma. What do you do for fun around here?”

  Gemma’s eyes narrowed
, and she turned her head slightly. “Cindy, do you like to ski?”

  “Well, I’ve never done it before, but I do like rough and tough zippity sports.”

  The red woman grinned. “ ‘Zippity’ is my middle name. Come, let’s hit the slopes before they get crowded—well, at least before the three or four other people staying here go up.”

  Without waiting for further confirmation, she grabbed Cindy’s hand, and pulled her toward a door that led deeper into the building.

  Cindy said to Ramsey.

  Ramsey asked as he glanced up from his conversation with Pell—who Cindy still suspected was Henry in a different jacket.

  she replied as Gemma pulled her through the door.

 

  Cindy was surprised that the president’s wife wandered around alone. Maybe this planet was just so sparsely populated that there was no need for any type of security.

  Or maybe the woman was just headstrong, and snuck away—it would explain the breakneck speed she reached as they dashed through the lodge.

 

 

  A BORED KITTY

  STELLAR DATE: 04.06.8949 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Aboard the Van

  REGION: Allaran, Crossbar System, Alkaid Void

  The CatWoman™ wandered into the ship’s galley to see Porty bent over a pot, stirring it slowly. She drew in a deep breath, savoring the aromatic flavors, and reveled in the enhanced sense of smell that being The CatWoman™ granted her.

  Then she caught a whiff of dwarf at least two days overdue for a shower, and nearly choked.

  “Whatcha cooking?” The CatWoman™ wheezed.

  Porty turned, clearly startled by her voice, and almost toppled off the stool he’d been standing on.

  “Dammit, Kitty, how are you so quiet on those heels of yours?”

  The CatWoman™ shrugged as she slinked toward Porty, peering over him into the pot, seeing if she could angle her sense of smell to just pick up food and not dwarf.

 

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