Round the Horn

Trev: Driven by unspeakable shame, he inexplicably heads back to see Sal. Rain slashes his face as a vicious wind whips a steel gray sky. He doesn’t notice.

Mairi: Unconscious on the cold floor, her head in a small pool of dark blood. She tried to stop Trev from going. He punched her in the face.

Emy: Her new found sensitivity to sound is driving her insane. She is currently floating her agitated arse in an isolation chamber. She holds her brooch in her hand, realizes she can no longer see her mother and starts to punch the side of the chamber. No one can hear. Blood drips from her knuckles. She starts to smile as salt stings her open wounds.

Cait: Sitting in the study with the Commander and Tom. She has been informed of the circumstances and looks on as the Commander outlines his plan. When the Commander mentions Kyra, Cait stands up and yells, “I will not have that bitch in my house!” Ariel appears in the doorway and all three adults turn in unison toward the small child.

Kyra: On her way to Duckhead. She is the plan. She sits in meditative silence on the private transport oblivious to the multi-hued lights flashing by.

Von: Refused to take no. He is with Kyra. His left hand has a firm grip on his right. It shakes anyway.

Rog and John: Making idle conversation. The Matutinal Mercy has not yet been delivered. The room is ice cold. Neither notice.

Yul: Still in hospital. Too high to wonder why. Too low to care.

Kieran: Closely watching events unfold.

The Unknowns: Closely watching Kieran.

The Mask

Cait stood in John’s study and released a heavy sigh as her eyes moved not so much from object to object but from memory to memory. Ariel was in bed and although it seemed like only minutes, several hours had past since they took John away. Her gaze skipped as pebbles across his desk and followed the warm light of a single lamp to the wooden cove behind his leather chair. Upon the wall, framed by books of varying sizes and colors, a solitary beam of light fell upon “The Mask” as the Discovery men called it. Passed from generation to generation, the mask represented everything noble in the Discovery lineage, and until a few hours ago, John had upheld the honor of the house as no one before him.

“What is it Kyra?” asked Von, somewhat puzzled by her dour demeanor.

“It’s Rog. They’ve taken him away.”

“For what?”

“Crimes against the state. I didn’t have the energy to argue.”

“What crime?”

“Seems they stole a military vessel.”

“What vessel?”

“The one they rescued us in.”

“Oh.”

A tear slipped from Cait’s eye. She wept not for Discovery honor. She wept for her own.

[censored][censored]

“Mommy, is daddy in trouble?” asked Ariel.

“I’m not sure sweetie. But your daddy is a very brave man, a very, very brave man,” said Cait.

“Do you love him?”

“I’m sorry hon, what did you say?”

“Do you love daddy?” Slight pause. “Because I do.”

Cait was a strong woman. Tears flowed anyway. “Yes, sweetie, yes. I love your daddy. I love him very much.”

Ariel snuggled into her mothers arms. “Good.”

And so the two rocked quietly lost in their own thoughts.

“Mommy?”

“Yes dear?”

“Does daddy love us?”

After tucking Ariel into bed, Cait picked up the phone. “Sue, where is John? Okay, can you put him on the line?”

“Cait?”

“You [censored] [censored]!”

“Cait? Cait?” John shook the receiver. “Cait?”

The Score

coup d’oeil

Ed note: The following bits and pieces surfaced on the flight yesterday. They may or may not have happened in the story. The image is what I call “Place Your Bets,” an allusion to which bits below you think really happened.

Internal Affairs visited Cait. They wanted to know where John was. Said something about a chip.

Mairi finds Trev. He’s a mess. Camera pans away with Mairi holding Trev in her arms like a frightened child, her hair blowing in the wind. She is wearing a long pleated skirt with a mustard colored blouse offsetting her auburn locks.

Dr. X discovers that Châtelaine’s undergo three months of training to communicate with their eyes.

The signal Rog recognizes comes from Kyra’s Zing Tao ring.

Taren is forced to destroy the ring, and under duress has to do it in front of Kyra.

This unleashes a side of Kyra never seen and she destroys the entire compound.

When no one is left alive, she collapses in a heap as a light is seen around her–Kieran.

When Mairi finds Trev he has blood caked on his upper lip, his eyes stare unblinking, lifeless; he can’t form coherent words or thoughts. His body feels strangely cold and he trembles uncontrollably.

Mairi puts hands on his head, closes her eyes and has flashes of his mind. She cries, something a hardened Châtelaine would never do.

Kyra spares Taren, barely. The number of dead in the compound count into the hundreds as she moved of body and mind.

Von said it was the most terrifying and beautiful birth he had ever seen.

Emy couldn’t talk about what she saw for months.

Mairi feels guilt at encouraging Trev to sow his oats.

BC is pissed Lil’ let Trev go and not kill him.

Kieran holds Kyra as Mairi holds Trev–tells her he has someone that wants to say hello, someone that did not take the last ship out of dodge.

John writes in his journal that “After the Kyra Incident” he is losing his moral compass with Cait.

Mairi looks to the heavens and cries out, “My Janus, what have they done to you.” Tears streak down her cheeks and she looks back down at Trev’s blank stare and through her tears she utters, “My dear child.” She wipes his hair away and shaking her head says, “How will you ever forgive me?” She is rocking back and forth as a mother might rock a frightened child to sleep.

“Papa?”

Kieran says she can’t directly connect with him but that he can act as a conduit.

Message from Papa: “We can still get there from here.”

Von: (Looks at Rog) I hope you brought some snoot?
Rog: I did.
Von: Good Hynerian.
Rog: I drank it–all.
Von: (deadpans)
Rog: But I have a plan.
Von: Yeah?
Rog: Looks at John.
John: What?
Von and Rog: (Start laughing)

I Love You, I’ll Kill You by Enigma is the Soundtrack for “The Kyra Incident.”

Interview from Earth:

T: Can you explain what happened?

K: Taren’s hammer was like a pickaxe. The down stroke to Papa’s ring broke, and I shiott you not, to my mind’s eye, I saw it as clear as day, but broke layer upon layer of inhibition and doubt while harnessing a synergistic melding of practice, theory and application that took years of pieces and in an instant painted, how would you say it, a Mona Lisa.

T: Wow.

K: Don’t ever say that word again in response.

T: Okay.

K: (starts laughing) I’m just shiotting you. Bring more whiskey–nine glasses.

T: (just smiles)

Pieces of Eight

Trev, prone, naked and secured by ankle and wrist, swallowed the fifth sip, with a little help from Lil’s firm hand fisting his hair. Sal moved to his prostrated rear and slapped her tight and taut boy like a farmer slapping a side of beef. His flesh was warm, unlike her own species; and he had an instrument, full and ripe, alien and exotic, that seems to pulse and throb and hang with a certain sense of living heft as if his heart were in his arse rather than his chest.

Mairi sat with the quiet patience of a weary cat in a sunny window, content to let Yul sleep as long as she liked. The operation, the doctors had said, somewhat nervously, had gone better than expected. More tests would be run later, they said. So she sat and rubbed her head but succor eluded the feeling of being sunburned from the inside of her skull. Dr. X promised she would heal, fully. She still thought he was a complete bastard.

John played the signal again. Rog listened. John looked. Rog listened some more with the look of a school boy trying to convince his teacher he knew the answer when he really didn’t. John played it again. Rog, blessing his own hide, yelped for effect, and did a little dance; his eyes shown with recognition fueled by hope. John just shook his head.

Ariel crawled into Cait’s lap, the soft light of a reading lamp holding the pair in the warm repose of mother and child. Cait held back a sigh as Ariel nestled in tight to her chest, pushing her little head and primrose hair into the twin softness of living pillows. Turning the page, she read slowly, trying to lose herself in the story, trying to crowd out the anger in her heart until she heard her daughter sigh and she realized she had not turned the page for quite some time.

+My dear friend, we meet again.+

Kyra opened her eyes as one to light after many days in a cave. There was a voice, but no one was there. She looked for Em and Von but they were not there either. The room was white and rather bright, the edges fuzzy and from somewhere in her heart, she would later swear, was a taste of things past and a remembrance of things to be.

“Kieran? Is that you?”

Categories: Story, Kyra, Trev, Mairi, Yul, John Discovery, Rog, Lil’ Twilight, Ariel, Cait

You Hung the Moon

Ariel: Mommy?

Cait: Yes dear?

Ariel: Does daddy still love us?

Cait: (takes a controlled breath) Yes, he loves us very much.

Ariel: Then why won’t he talk to me anymore?

–

Cait: John?

John: Hi Sweetie.

Cait: Your daughter had a question for me this afternoon. Would you like to hear it?

John: Of course. What did she ask?

Cait: If you still loved her.

John: (silence)

Cait: Did you hear me John?

John: Yes, put her on the phone.

Cait: She’s not here. Grand picked her up a few minutes ago.

John: I see.

Cait: Do you know why Grand came and picked her up?

John: (trying to control his growing irritation) Tell me Cait. Tell me what’s on your mind.

Cait: Because I’ve been crying my eyes out ever since she asked the question. Do you have any idea what that felt like, to be asked that question by your child? No, you don’t, because you would have to be here to hear it.

John: (hesitates)

Cait: John!

John: Honey, I—

Cait: Don’t honey me. You have no idea because if you did, if you have any sense of what I just experienced, the look in that young child’s eyes, you’d be here. But you’re not here. Are you John?

John: You know I love you and Ariel more than anything in the world.

Cait: You might fool me John, and I’ll forgive you, but you aren’t fooling that little girl, that precious little girl who thinks you hung the moon. (pause) Did you give her a magic pillow?

John: (rolls eyes) Yes.

Cait: And did you promise her you would fix it?

John: Crap. (shakes head) Hon, I completely forgot.

Cait: I know. But there is a little girl who didn’t, a little girl that misses her father, a little girl that doesn’t understand why you are gone again and why her pillow, you, don’t talk to her anymore.

–

Rog: Cait?

John: Yeah.

Rog: All good?

John: Yeah, all good.

Rog: Right. We’re just two righteous dudes aren’t we.

John: (knowing smile)

–

Goldie: Ms Kyra, is everything going to be okay?

Kyra: I don’t know Goldie.

Goldie: I’ve talked to Pinkie.

Kyra: Yeah? What about?

Goldie: We want to reverse flow our remaining power into the auxiliary system.

Kyra: Come here Goldie. (Kyra kisses her metal forehead) How did Papa do it?

Goldie: Do what Ms Kyra?

Kyra: Give you a heart of gold.

Goldie: (blinks eyes)

Kyra: Tell Pinkie I do greatly appreciate the gesture, but I’m afraid even between the two of you, it would make no difference. Besides, if we are going down, we go down together. (Kyra tries to smile) You got that?

Goldie: Yes ma’am.

–

Rog: So, do you feel like shiott?

John: (laughs) Yeah. That about sums it up.

Rog: Yep. Suppose it does.

Commentary/Reading: You Hung the Moon

Categories: Story, Kyra, Goldie, John Discovery, Caitlin, Ariel, Rog

Parallels

Kyra walked down the corridor to the bridge with steps light, steady and deliberate.

John’s carain pulled inside the central courtyard of his estate.

Von and Em were on the bridge, both hunched over the central control panel.

John stepped out and to his left stood Cait and Ariel, who shot out from her mom like a rocket, half running and half skipping, to John’s open arms.

As Kyra approached the control panel, she took note of the red glow illuminating Von’s gray beard.

John hugged Ariel like a great coat one size too large, and his bundle of energy put her tiny head on this chest, her ear next to his heart. Cait stood at a distance and then John noticed two figures in the shadows to her right.

Em looked up first and then Von. Without speaking they both stepped aside and Kyra glanced down upon the sea of red, like distant stars, twinkling and winking.

John picked up Ariel and put her on his hip. Cait looked nervous. As he approached she motioned and the two figures stepped into the light, slate in hand, faces somber.

Kyra opened the comm link. There was no response. She looked at Von and he looked back, neither upset nor anxious but rather peaceful, in a resigned sort of way, as if he had opened himself to the hands of fate with complete trust.

John looked at the slate, looked at Cait. She held her arms out and took Ariel. “Go,” she said, strong to the last, resolute in duty. John hesitated and she repeated her order. “Go, for you can’t come back till you go. And I want you back, here, not back there. So go.”

“Options?” asked Kyra.

“If you believe in Janus, pray. If you don’t believe, pray anyway,” said Von. “Either way, do it now.”

Categories: Story, Kyra, Von, Emy, John Discovery, Caitlin, Ariel

Your Move

 [ed note: this chapter is happening simultaneously with each snippet]

Em walked up behind Trev, fascinated by the image he was working on. “Whatcha doing?”

Trev looked up. “Take a listen and tell me what you think?”

“A distress signal, clear as day.”

Trev’s jaw dropped. “How—“

“Heard them all the time on the open water,” responded Em, not realizing this recording was only hours old. “The signal is very weak but the tone seems a little odd. Where did you get this?”

—–

Kyra pulled out the folio and placed her palms on the cover. Closing her eyes she said, “Papa, forgive me, for I have sinned.” Goldie noticed a bluish glow from Kyra’s quarters but thought the better of disturbing her.

—–

Cait picked flowers and watched Ariel chase after Maria, their dog. Solar activity continued to prevent any communication with the taskforce. Taking a deep breath, the aroma of love past took her places warm and tender.

—–

Tom walked into John’s office. “Team Kilo has made contact.”

“And?”

Tom smiled, “No survivors. We’re heading home boss. Mission accomplished.”

John starred through Tom, his index finger on his temple with his thumb under his chin.

—–

Calfuray looked at Mairi, then Dr. X and finally Shen. “We are approaching the Aegis. Make one move without my permission and I’ll gut the lot of you quicker than your sphincters can tighten round your pathetic little fingers.” No one moved—not even a blink.

—–

Von looked at Rog as Yul looked over his shoulder. “Your move.”

Rog surveyed the board. Moving a white triangle into position, it turned red. “How bout them dimplerods boss.” His laughter was short lived. Coming from outside Bravo, the sound was muffled but unmistakable. Code Red.

“Crap,” exclaimed Rog. “What now!”

Categories: Story, Calfuray, Kyra, Von, Rog, Trev, Emy, Caitlin, John Discovery

Sun Globe

John tried the channel again. No luck, which seemed to be the par for the course. Team Kilo had mysteriously lost contact with the voice and this solar storm was preventing all communication back home. Not much to do but wait.

Reaching across his desk, John picked up his sun globe, a gift Cait had picked out for Ariel to give him for this mission. The globe glowed warm to the touch, animated by captured solar energy from Rubion and Triste. Sparkling with light his mind drifted to the sparkle in Ariel’s eyes when she gave it to him.

John closed his eyes and let the warmth from the globe take him back. His bags were already loaded in the Carain and there was that awkward emotional sense of wanting to leave (to get on with it) and wanting to stay. The feeling was one that unless you had first hand experience, simply couldn’t be described. One felt torn between duties, between family and hearth and god and world. It was a feeling no words could salve. He had long since stopped trying to explain to Cait and she had learned to stop asking.

John walked back into the house, standing just inside the door, and like owls in the night, two sets of quiet eyes starred back at him. Then as children are wont to do, Ariel broke the tension with a giggle as she skipped toward him, her hands held behind her back. He had bent down on one knee, his eyes on the same level as hers and the contagiousness of her smile gave birth to his own.

Then, without words, she held the globe out to him, her eyes full of expectant anticipation, longing to join her love with his, to seal a bond known between a father and a daughter. He did not disappoint. Holding the globe in one hand and Ariel on his knee in the other, he hugged her tight and looked at Cait with wet eyes. “It is the most magnificent gift I have ever gotten,” he had said as he felt her little arms tighten with joy around his neck. And he meant every word.

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin, Ariel

Magic Pillow

Ariel snuggled into bed, her white cotton sheets clean and fresh. Cait leaned over and kissing her forehead said, “I love you sweetie. Sleep tight and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I love you too mommy,” responded Ariel with an impish smile born in the warmth of the moment, worry and concern absent in the cocoon of her room.

Cait smiled back, stood up to leave and hesitated. She had not allowed Ariel to sleep in her bed for more than a year, yet the thought hung in her mind and she mused, Was this desire for Ariel or me? “Honey, how would you like to sleep with mommy in the big bed tonight?”

“That’s okay mommy, I’m a big girl now.”

Cait looked down at Ariel, her cheeks uplifted with pride. “Yes you are darlin’.” Cait smiled, kissed Ariel again and let herself out, closing the door softly.

Ariel rolled over and in a real quiet voice whispered, “Okay, she’s gone. Would you read me a story?”

Her pillow began to glow and the gentle voice of her father responded, “Well, that depends. Have you been a good girl?”

“Oh daddy, I’ve been really, really good.”

“Okay, then, what would you like to hear tonight?”

“I want to hear the one about the little girl who grew up to be a superhero. Tell me about her rocket shoes daddy, that’s my favorite part.”

“That’s my favorite too. Here goes. Once upon a time there was a little girl with primrose hair and sapphire eyes who found a pair of rocket shoes. These were not any ordinary rocket shoes, but very special ones.”

Ariel jumped in. “What did they look like?”

“They sparkled ruby red and had wings on the back and when the little girl put them on, they glowed and sparkled with the brilliance of Rubion and Triste. “

And so the pillow glowed and talked and Ariel smiled that smile that children do when they know they have the best dad in the whole world. And somewhere, many parsecs away, there was a dad that was smiling too, that smile that dads have when they know they have the best daughter in the whole universe.When the story was over Ariel whispered with sleepy lids, “I love you daddy.”

And the pillow whispered back, “I love you too. Sweet dreams my dear angel.”

Categories: Story, Caitlin, John Discovery, Ariel

Nothing

John tried again. Still no luck. “Tom, you ever seen a solar storm like this?”

“Can’t say that I have John.”

“Okay, well, would you notify me as soon as we have an open channel?”

“Will do.”

John sat back in his chair, holding an ancient solar chart. A gorgeous work of art depicting Rubion and Triste in opposition. If only that was the case now. Solar storms in a dual sun system were common, but one of this magnitude was not. Until it cleared they were for all intents and purposes stuck in radio silence.

Cait watched the reports. Stay inside. Protect yourself if you must go out, all the usual stuff. That is, if you didn’t have a husband on the other side of the sector and cut off from all communication. How much longer this storm would persist no one could say. Could be a day, could be a week.

“Mommy?” asked Ariel.

“Yes darling?”

“Is dad going to call us tonight?”

Cait tried to smile. It had been more than a week since John had called. She couldn’t recall him ever going so long, and now, with this storm, who knew how much longer it would be. Before, she could always check with the base, and her contacts there would assure her he was okay. She knew they would lie if the case was otherwise, but still it provided some measure of comfort. This time, however, they knew no more than she did, which was nothing. Nothing was hard. And there was nothing to do but wait and hope and pray.

“Honey, dad is on a very important mission and is working very, very hard. And you know what?” said Cait as she reached out to tickle her precocious one.

“What?” Ariel squirmed, tucking her elbows in and giggling, her long reddish golden hair shinning on the waves of gentle curves.

“I have it on very good authority that your dad loves you very, very much and he left me in charge of giving out his hugs to you. Let me see if I have one for you.” Cait reached out and took her daughter in her arms, pulling her tight to her chest. Little arms returned the embrace with the enthusiasm of unfiltered belief.

“Mommy, I miss dad.” said Ariel, changing her tone as children do.

“I miss him too sweetie.”

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin

Axon Terminal

+It’s okay Mairi, you can keep your eyes closed. The scan works on synaptic discourse. The warmth of your skin conducts the signal and should give you a slight tingle, perfectly harmless+, intoned Dr. X aligning the red laser over the center of her eye.

Mairi gritted her teeth; her eyes closed tight, her chest fully exposed. Telepathic communication gave her the same weird sensation as giving bone marrow, neither pleasant nor painful but rather an odd sense of naked violation. The feeling was neither tickle nor itch as much as an indescribable viscous feeling of vacuum–as if the very essence of her soul was being sucked out against her will. Her hands pulled in vain against the rough scratchy rope as if they could wipe away the sensation like a pregnant bead of sweat on precipice of her brow.

+Relax Mairi. There is nowhere to go and nothing to do.+

_______

“John, incoming message. I think you should take this one.”

Flicking his eyes to the right, the private message appeared on the inside of his dark blue visor:

Dear Johnny,

I love you. Do your job. Do it right. Hurry back.

Love,

Cait.

John flicked his eyes down and left and the message faded away.

“Good news John?”

“Yeah, good news,” said John, pursing his lips into a tight smile causing his crow’s feet to take on shadow and light in exaggerated folds like heavy cloth.

_______

“Trev, what’s the update? asked Yul.

“No change I’m afraid. I will say this, a lesser Hynerian would not have survived the punishment Rog has absorbed. How much longer is a matter between Rog and Janus.”

“And the arm?”

“We’ll wait as long as we can, but if . . .”

Yul looked down. Trev looked away.

_______

“Taren, our visitors didn’t materialize out of thin air. Launch a patrol. I want the survivors alive since our Tearacs won’t give us that pleasure with our two guests. Consider it a little insurance in case our dear doctor runs into resistance,” said the voice.

_______

Von looked at Kyra out of the corner of his weary eyes as if to say I’ll give you what I’ve got but don’t expect a miracle. Kyra caught the look and smiled without smiling. Standing between Von and the rising murmur she closed her eyes and lifted her arms, palms out. From light came darkness and from darkness came light and a warm sensation lifted his spirit.

Commentary: Axon Terminal

Categories: Story, Kyra, Von, The Voice, Trev, Yul, Mairi, Dr. X, John Discovery, Caitlin

Caitlin

Cait

Commentary: Caitlin

Categories: Story, Caitlin, Paintings

Playground of Angels

Warm water flowed at the behest of gravity, absolving body and soul alike in the silent vestibule of reprieve. Question not my son your good fortune, his dad would say, but fall on bended knee and give thanks, for that which is given by the hand of grace can be taken just as quickly by the foot of hubris. She had taken the news just as he had imagined and he had wondered upon the day angels conspired to touch the heart of one such as his beloved Caitlin.

Prepare yourself, she had said, for a night filled with the love of many moons distilled into mere hours. I love you dearly my captain, and if you don’t know the depth and breadth of my well, I intend to remove all doubt before Rubion and Triste turn the melanic sky blue as watered milk. With a crystal reflected wink and a firm blessing to his hide, she had sent him to clean up while she prepared their sanctuary of repose.

As he stood under the cascading shower, his feet firmly planted on the imported nankeen tile, rising steam cleansed each pore with a diligence to match the occasion. One night, he reflected, to stock the granary of his mind for the long voyage ahead. Lose yourself in the moment; swim with the current for the shore of tomorrow’s siren call will steal your appointment with life given half a chance.

Caitlin lit the last of a hundred candles moving quickly to place the cardinal flowers of passion beside the purpure ones of fidelity. She had picked them from her garden in the morning to grace dinner, but as a sailor sets sail on a changing wind, such had events shifted their tack. Each flower released a slightly different aroma, which symbiotically trumped the finest handmade oils. Memory, her mother had taught, is strongest in the regions of smell—a lesson not forgotten and more invaluable than she had ever imagined at the time. She knew her competition and she would fight memory with memory in the mind of her peripatetic husband.

Slipping on her silk crimson kimono with luteous trim, Caitlin’s trembling hands slowly and gently fastened the sash as lovers fasten bows for the purpose of release; she smiled reflecting the same fate awaited the fresh linens so carefully tucked only hours before. Her hair was naturally primrose, which she highlighted with essence of goldenrod giving forth a metallic sheen that looked charged with sparkle in the soft light of distant stars. Red eye shadow stood in marked contrast on her pristine porcelain white skin, framing sapphire blue eyes as lush meadows bow at the feet of mountain lakes fed from the sacrifice of spring snows.

John emerged into the orchestrated symphony of light and aroma with eyes only for the maestro standing center stage. They say souls know not neither time nor distance in the weaving of two into one and in this instance, neither the hounds of hell nor the angels of heaven could have pierced the space between his eyes and hers. The room seemed to expand and contract with the sighs of its keep as a mother might with the happiness of an only child. John would say many years later there was only one date ever left blank in his journal, for the unfolding of events in those hours of union rose to a level beyond the language of men and into the realm of kindred spirits given entry to the playground of angels.

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin

Embrace

John’s Carain rounded the last bend under the laced canopy of mature oak, each a testament to the vision of his great grandfather who saw the majestic admirals only in the fleeting mists of prescience, a gift to future generations, a touch through time between blood destined never to break bread or share wine. With the flourish of a magician’s surprise, from the dance of shadows, stone and mortar materialized, dressed in the warm intention of Rubion and Triste, Kulmyk’s twin suns. The view, the suddenness, the stark contrast between shadow and light, between what was imagined and what was seen, rendered visitors mute.

Home, mused John. Somewhere between himself and the grand estate before his limpid eyes, was a second home, the home he carried in the ever changing currents of his pallium. That home, he thought, was forever warm and filled with love and laughter, peace and joy; that home swirled with the smells of faith and substance, of morning brews and evening sauces, rich as big hat ranchers on the edge of the open range; that home warmed his heart in the cold reaches of space, comforted his mind in the distance of time; that home, he knew, was home more often, and perhaps, he feared, more real.

Doors opened simultaneously. Caitlin smiled, and for a few fleeting seconds, John saw only the pure moment unencumbered with the burden of future moments. Her arms opened wide like a peacock spreading train and none the less stunning. Words were cast aside as unnecessary as clothes on their wedding night. Lips melted from two into one, warmth replaced absence and the simple comb of fingers through hair, pulling and grasping, spoke in a language universally understood. Lifting Caitlin off the ground, John pirouetted in step with their childlike laughter. The universe, for this moment, ceased to exist.

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin

Johnny Disco

Eyes blue as sacred sapphires, scintillating and coruscating with scarlet tones deep and pure as cisterns, John stood before his crimson Carain, an old and beautiful personal transport he had spent ages restoring with the minute consideration of a master horologist. Kulmyk’s morning suns, eternally spectacular in their daily duet reflected a welcomed prism of warmth off the immaculately polished surface, although others would argue, and many would agree; exhibit one in the case for obsessive perfectionism. John would not have disagreed, nor those who placed their confidence in his abilities.

The door of his pride slid open with the silent signature of a meticulous master artisan as a melodious whispery southern breeze carried a serenade of citrine chatelaines, seductive songbirds native to the western district. Not to be outdone, the glove soft leather interior, assisted with solar caresses, released a bouquet as sweet as any young bride’s wedding arraignment. Easing into the warm embrace, a wave of his hand molded the seat to his hard lithe frame.

John Michael Discovery turned his mind to the drive home. His mission to the outer reaches had met success and received accolades. No one expected otherwise and John was careful to watch the backdoor of his mind, the very entrance complacency would launch a cloak and dagger attack when he least expected. Too many of his colleagues had succumbed to a domestic coup they never saw coming. He would honor their sacrifices with respectful vigilance on his own watch. Success, and in this profession of arms, survival, demanded daily tribute; ownership was a myth.

John would later say he remembers not the view of the snow capped mountains, of which his father had taught the lessons of teamwork, the necessity for unrelenting solution oriented thinking; nor would he recall the mirror smooth reflections of such on the pristine waters of Lake Serenity, on the banks of which bonds between father and son were forever carved within the soft inner core of his filial heart. His Carain traveled the route home on auto command, the trip more a function of time than distance. Time, John reflected, seemed to define his relationships; and time was not always the ally he had hoped, and at times, begged it to be.

The mission to destroy the Arc’teryxian vessel had consumed six weeks of this life; yet duty remained ravenous, insatiate as a newborn. As the mother dutifully and lovingly responds to the needs of her baby, so too John felt the mother to his calling, the cries of which grew with each success. A victim of my own success he thought. What would dad say?

John had promised Caitlin they would have time, this time, between missions. As pure as her name suggested, and as sincere as he had made the promise, he knew the river of events had taken an unexpected turn and her hopes would be dashed like a diminutive birthday girl all dressed in hat and gown, balloons and cake patiently waiting in place, pending the arrival of her friends, which with each passing moment she came to realize was never going to happen. The icing on the cake would begin to harden its heart and the balloons would lose their enthusiasm to soar and the little girl would put on a brave face and tell her mom she understood that sometimes things happen and it would be okay.

John knew, when he broke the news, Caitlin’s eyes would water without bursting, her shoulders would drop but only for a second and then she would stand tall, put on her brave face and tell him she understood. As battle hardened a warrior as he was, as intrepid a neuro-surgeon who had held life and death in his hands, he feared most of all, the dagger those few words would inflict on his heart. “It will be okay,” she would say with a smile born of impeccable breeding, of a long line of women who understood sacrifice. “We have tonight,” she would add. “And I won’t allow an unpromised tomorrow to stand between our happiness this evening.” And then she would wrap her arms around him and he would wonder who really was the strongest and brightest and wisest and bravest of the two. And he would conclude it was not him.

“Johnny Disco,” asked his Carain’s computer, a name his mates had given him in fighter pilot school after an unforgettable night on leave in a long forgotten port city—and like most nicknames, it stuck, “should I alert Caitlin of our arrival?”

With a slight smile, which the name Johnny Disco always brought to his eyes, and a heavy sigh, John replied, “Yes, let her know we’re here.”

Categories: Story, John Discovery, Caitlin