In Service to a Goddess,
Book Two
Copyright©2003 by Ed Howdershelt
ISBN 1-932693-11-4
Caution: Some Erotic Content
Introduction:
It takes a lot of living to form the basis for even a little bit of literature... - Ed
If you haven't read the original ISTAG story, go back and do so. You'll need some of the background for book two.
They begged me. They threatened and badgered me into continuing my ISTAG storyline. (Well, actually, a few dozen readers and some of the other writers have emailed to ask if there would be any more...)
Nobody else has asked if I'm really a lesbian using a man's penname, but more than a few have asked if I'm into domination games. (No, I'm not.)
Four of the dozen emailed comments I received from readers came from men, one of which was less than positive: "You should have found a way to become stronger than her. Men should be in control of their women."
I told him to write his own damned story if he wasn't happy with mine.
Everybody else who wrote in said they liked the story, so I'll go with that consensus.
The ladies who emailed me mostly just liked the story enough to mention it, but one in particular was effusive in praise of my not being afraid to pair myself with a strong female character.
I told her that fear had little to do with it, but didn't elaborate in email something that I believe is already evident in my writings and on my pages.
Trust me, it isn't bravery or fear that causes me to want such women. Lots of women out there are stronger than me.
I've met (in passing or at events) Marla Duncan, Cory Everson, two female American Gladiators, and Sable, and I wouldn't care to test against any of them for strength or general durability.
In today's fitness-concerned society, women who are strong aren't as rare as they used to be, and in the business world, there are women who can run corporations with relative ease.
When above-average levels of fitness and intelligence combine in women, you wind up with creatures who scare the pants (yes, a pun...) off control-freaks like the religious right-wingers. That's your hint about the storyline.
Many of the key incidents in the story have actually happened, of course. I always put that element in all my writings for realism.
Our boat did go down some ten miles east of Sebastian Inlet (Atlantic Ocean) for reasons stated. That incident happened pretty much as written.
Also, I did meet a lady cop during a violent drug bust, for instance, and she did have some issues to overcome, an effort in which I managed to be useful.
And... The Dallas Morning News laughingly quoted my offer to make a suppository out of a protester's bullhorn when they wrote up the clinic incident.
End of Intro
Chapter One
You know how it goes if you've been there. The passion of any new relationship will give way to familiarity once you've both explored each other thoroughly.
After almost a year, April and I knew each other inside out. She was still my lovely goddess, but something seemed to have disappeared from our relationship.
Our friend Sara was the first to voice the matter. She dropped in (literally) at the farm one afternoon after she and Andrea had helped some federal agency uncover and destroy a stash of nerve gas canisters that had gone bad.
Sara was disgusted and upset by the whole affair and was pacing and chattering to blow off steam.
"The stuff was leaking everywhere down there. I traced it all the way to the rock ledge above the water table. The stupid bastards almost waited too long."
She paused as I handed her a coffee, then continued, "Three different bureaucrats were arguing about what to do, but all they really wanted was to cover their asses, so we made the decision for them."
With a grin, she said, "You should have heard them bitch when we started tossing the canisters into space. All that shit is on its way to the sun, along with the bunkers and every bit of contaminated rock and soil. We sterilized the area and left them a hole almost a mile deep where their goddamn base had been."
Sara wasn't given much to swearing. Being rather impervious to harm or discomfort gave these ladies little reason to pick up the habit, but dealing with government agencies had obviously had its effect on Sara's mood.
"Do you believe that the sons of bitches actually wanted me to try to salvage some of that crap? One drop would kill a city, and they had tons of the stuff! I told them to screw off! I can't believe some of the nasty shit people have invented. How the hell have people survived this long?"
Fifteen minutes of pacing and bitching later, Sara pulled up a chair at the kitchen table and said, "Sorry about the tirade. Is there any more coffee?"
"Yes, ma'am, there is," I said, heading kitchenward, "How about you, April?"
"I can get my own coffee," said April. Sara and I glanced at her.
"Woo. I must be contagious today," said Sara.
April rolled her eyes and said, "Sorry. Something on my mind." She dropped into a chair at the table and said, "Might as well bring the pot over here, Ed."
Sara looked at April, apparently studying her for a moment, then she studied me in the same manner as I poured the coffee.
"Did I drop by at a bad time?" she asked, "Do you guys have a problem?"
There was silence around the table as April and I avoided having to try to say anything by sipping our coffees. Sara rapped on the tabletop.
"C'mon, get it out on the table. I bet you just need a break from each other and don't know how to say it, right?"
April glanced sharply at her, but said nothing. Sara turned her gaze to me.
"Well?"
"Well, indeed. Maybe you could try being blunt about it?"
That got a snicker out of April, but she continued her silence. Sara grinned.
"Humor. Oh, that's very good. That's a fine start. Why don't you just tell sister Sara all about it, sweetie? I have a few minutes to spare."
I looked at April. She shrugged as if to say, "I don't care. Go ahead." I took this to mean she wanted to hear my version before making her corrections to it, then realized that having that sardonic thought was a symptom of our problem. I decided to give it a shot.
"Could be we need more than just ourselves for company these days."
Sara waited a few moments, then asked, "Yeah, and..?"
"I'd like to hear from April."
April remained silent.
Sara looked at her and again asked, "Well?"
April slowly sat up and leaned forward. "That's about it, I think."
"Uh-huh..." said Sara thoughtfully.
She sipped her coffee a moment, then said, "Neither of you wants to hurt the other's feelings, but you both need some time off. Right?"
There were a few moments of silence at the table. Sara seemed to take this as tacit agreement.
"So, why not just do it? Take a couple of weeks or a month and see how things go? You guys have been holed up here at the farm too long anyway. The only time anybody sees either of you is when there's a job to do out in the world. It's as if you've both been on standby for a year, only coming out when necessary."
April started to speak, but Sara held up a hand.
"How much easier and quicker would today's job have been if we'd had you there? I mean, it wasn't an emergency or anything like that, but..." She let the sentence trail off.
"Nobody called us," I said rather defensively.
Sara gave me a flat stare. "We sort of got out of the habit of calling you, Ed. We always felt as if we were intruding unless it was really important."
There wasn't much to say to that. I remembered a few times when the phone had rung at inappropriate times -- someone just calling to say hello or whatever, and probably that someone had been able to detect that I really wanted to get back to what I had been doing, which would have involved April.
"Look at that grin," said Sara to the room in general, "He's thinking about the times he answered the phone with oily hands."
"Me, too," said April in a soft voice. She looked across at me with a similar grin.
I reached for her hand and stroked it lightly.
"Damn, I'm good at this," said Sara, "Maybe I should change careers. Should I maybe wait outside a while?"
"Oh, shut up," said April, "You're just jealous."
"As IF!" said Sara, "I have a little something at home, too, you know."
"Ha," said April, "Rumor has it you have three little somethings at home. If you aren't careful you could get a reputation of some sort."
"Got it already," said Sara, grinning widely, "Earned it fair and square."
"Jeezus," I said, "I'd love to read the walls in the women's room at the lab."
"If you're real nice to me I'll show you sometime," said Sara.
I was about to say something in return when I realized her tone of voice hadn't been so much jovial as matter-of-fact. She was gazing quietly at me across the table.
I looked over at April. She had an eyebrow arched and was concentrating on unnecessarily stirring her coffee.
"Maybe it's time," said April, "For both of us, I mean."
I waited for the rest of the comment. April looked up at me.
"Ed, remember when I told you about having other friends, and you said you could handle it? When you said that monogamy didn't apply to us?"
I nodded. "Sure do. I also know that you've neglected to mention a number of sleepovers with Sara and Andrea. Why didn't you just bring them home?"
April was actually startled. "How the hell did you know?"
Sara chuckled as she said, "Wasn't me. I didn't tell him."
I shrugged and said, "C'mon, April. You told me about your super-libidos, and your own mixed preferences in bed. You ladies don't all smell the same, but," I turned to Sara, "On April's skin, you each taste just as good as you smell in person."
April just continued looking startled.
Sara laughed and said, "Why, thank you, sir. I'm glad you like my residual flavor."
I smiled back at her and poured more coffee around.
"Let's change the subject for a while," said April, "I hear you're going to the State Fair this weekend. With John or Steve?"
"Steve," said Sara, "He loves rollercoasters."
"It doesn't sound as if you do," I said.
"Not really. They're based on scaring the rider. I don't scare very easily."
"Um. I can see how that might lessen the experience for you."
I had a mental picture of Sara doing her nails while everybody else was screaming.
"It's the same for me with most movies," said April. "I just can't relate to most of them. They usually depend on the audience sharing a sense of danger, and I haven't found a way to do that yet. I get bored."
"Uh-huh..." I said, sipping some coffee. "Can't relate, huh? Hey, I have an idea. Are you ladies game for some experimental entertainment?"
"Probably," said Sara with a quick grin, "What do you have in mind?"
April just looked at me as she sat back in her chair and shrugged again.
"Gimme a minute," I said.
I gathered my thoughts in silence for a few moments, then asked them to join hands around the table. As soon as I felt we had a connection going, I began feeding memories to them.
"Once upon a time..." I said with a grin, "Specifically, a Sunday afternoon in mid-1980, I went boating with a friend and his girlfriend in his new cabin cruiser. After most of a day on the water, we started back about an hour before dark. We were about 10 miles out from Sebastian Inlet, running fast on calm water, when we hit something that almost brought the boat to a halt. Linda, my date, and I had been lying on some mats on the lower deck. We were suddenly sliding forward on the wet deck and slammed hard against the rear wall of the wheelhouse."
*****
There had been a loud "BAM!" sort of noise and a grunging sound for a few seconds, mingled with shouts and screams. Then there was nothing but the lapping of the waves on the hull.
Linda was gripping her left arm in pain, but it didn't appear broken. The feel of the boat was all wrong as I scrambled to the hatchway to have a look below.
I expected to see water, maybe, and a hole. Instead, when I loosened the latch, the door burst outward and the soggy, broken roots of a tree sprang up and out through the doorway.
I heard a thumping above me and saw David stagger away from the wheel. When he reached the edge of the platform, he just toppled over the rail onto the lower deck and lay there with his right leg twisted under him.
Linda screamed and scooted across the few feet to David. I swung over the rail and landed nearby. He was still breathing, but you could see the imprint of the wheel on his chest. He'd been wearing a life jacket, but hadn't tied it shut. There was no sign of his girlfriend, Barbara, on deck or in the water.
David was out cold. I left Linda to watch him and had another look below decks. Water was now lapping on the steps below the impassable hatchway, but the boat didn't seem to be sinking with any speed. Actually, it didn't seem to be sinking at all for the moment. I peered into the darkness beyond the roots and called Barbara's name a few times, but there was no response.
I clambered to the front of the boat for a look at the damage. About twenty feet of pine tree extended from the bow of the boat. That meant that another twenty feet or so had punched through the boat to come to rest against the ladder and doorway.
I didn't want to think that Barbara had been in the path of such a battering ram. Leaning far over the bow, I could see along the trunk into the boat. Again I called Barbara, and again there was no response.
No lights on the radio dial. No power. Night was closing in on us. With no idea how long things would hold together, I decided to inflate the six-man life raft and move David and Linda onto it with whatever else I could find that seemed useful.
The orange plastic oars looked like toys, but once the two parts were screwed together, they seemed fairly sturdy. Linda took them and tied them onto the oarlocks on the raft.
There were two flashlights and some hand-held flares in the locker-seat, as well as an ax, a first-aid kit, a couple of rolls of parachute cord, a ski-rope, and a roll of garbage bags. I tossed all but the ax into the raft and checked the two big coolers we'd brought aboard.
One cooler held several two-liter bottles of soft drinks and the other contained what was left of a case of beer. Both were half-full of icewater slush, but they'd float. I tied the handles together at both ends and tossed the rope to Linda, who tied them to the raft.
I heard clanking at the hatchway. A few cans of starter-spray and WD-40 floated among the roots. Nearby floated a 1-gallon plastic gas can, apparently half full. I weaseled them through the roots without knowing quite why. Maybe because they were floating, and floatation seemed important just then? I tossed them to Linda, who seemed to be wondering what they'd be good for as she put them in one of the trash bags with the other loose stuff.
The boat shifted backward and sideways, and the mass of roots at the doorway seemed first to jam forward, then to withdraw into the darkness. One of the broken roots was waving sideways as if to beckon me inside.
Oh, yeah, I thought, always room for one more... Spooky. I did take the opportunity to look around in there again, but Barbara was nowhere in sight.
The boat shifted again. The ax clattered along the deck to the rail, which was being topped by each passing wave. If not for the scuppers, the boat would have been swamped. I judged it time to get aboard the raft and cut it loose from the boat. Tossing everything but the ax to Linda, I was preparing to cut and jump across the slight gap when we heard a scream.
It was one of those loud, long screams like you hear in the movies, and it came from below deck. Linda looked at the badly listing boat, the nearly-submerged doorway, then at David, and then at me.
"You couldn't get to her, Ed. I saw you trying."
"You saw me looking for her. I didn't see her in there."
Her face hardened. The rear of the boat sagged a bit lower, then it rolled a few more degrees as it lost its grip on the tree. I could no longer see roots through the doorway.
"Linda..."
Barbara screamed again. I took one more look at Linda in the near-darkness and chopped through the rope holding the raft. Linda quickly reached behind her and tossed me an extra lifejacket.
"For Barbara," she said, "And you'd better hurry."
The deck was now at almost 30 degrees of tilt and everything was wet and slick. I used the ax to hook the wheelhouse ladder and pull myself up. Another scream.
Since the right-hand side of the boat was under water, I reasoned, Barbara had to be in the bathroom on the left side. The roots had retreated somewhat, but I had no desire to go in there. Wave action was making them batter up and down, but didn't seem to be pushing them forward. I leaned far over to grasp the door handle. It wouldn't turn.
"Barbara! Unlock the door!"
"Ed! Ed! Get me out of heeerrre!"
"Unlock the damned door!"
"I can't! I've already tried! I think my leg is broken!"
'Oh, shit,' I thought, watching the roots slam erratically against the ceiling a couple of feet away.
The boat sagged some more and the roots jammed solidly against the ceiling. Good news, bad news. No more banging roots, but we wouldn't be hanging on this stick much longer.
I stepped off the ladder and dropped into the chest-deep water in front of the door.
The boat's new angle had put more than half the bathroom door under water, too. It was probably getting pretty nasty in there. I tried to brace myself and swung the ax at the wood above the lock.
Bad position and weak swings, but three hits above and below the lock let me knock it completely out. I hooked the axhead in the hole and pried the door open.
As if to let me know I should hurry faster, the boat shifted downward again. The roots were nearing the forward opening.
I let go of the ax and shouldered the door upward and open. By the dim light from the porthole, I could see that Barbara was sitting on the side of the small sink, wide-eyed and shaking.
No time to be polite. I grabbed her hand and yanked her down, then pulled her through the opening. This time her scream was one of pain. No time for that, either.
The hatchway to the outside world was almost completely under water. I wrapped the lifejacket around her, tied it shut quickly, and pointed at the hatchway.
"Through there," I said, "Find the raft."
I shoved her at the hatchway. She was halfway through when the boat shifted again. I saw the door frame hit the backs of her legs, but she made it through.
I bounced up to grab a couple of breaths of what little air was left inside the boat and tried to follow her.
This time the boat twisted as it dropped. The hatchway was no longer in front of me and I collided with the same door I'd chopped open.
The boat seemed to be hanging by its nose, turning around me. I could hear grunging noises again as I looked up. The jagged edges of the hole in the front of the boat were hung up on the root ball, but I could hear them crunching and snapping from the strain.
I imagined the tree standing almost upright in the water from the weight of the boat as I lunged upward and grabbed some roots. I wondered if the boat would let go before I ran out of air.
With another small twist and a rush of bubbles, whatever little buoyancy had remained in the boat left it. I heard the bow of the boat splintering above me before the ragged fiberglass and foam edges of the hole rushed past me at frightening speed.
I cringed away from them far too late to have done any good, but they missed me. The tree nearly yanked itself out of my grasp as it flopped back down in the water.
When I cleared my eyes and looked down, the boat was gone. A few bubbles floated up around me.
I heard splashing and screaming in the darkness to my left, so I called out.
"Linda! Barbara! Where are you?"
I heard hysterical laughter and someone squealing my name, then a light appeared maybe fifty feet away. I hung on the roots to catch my breath and calm down a bit. There were more splashes and another scream. The light bounced around a bit and disappeared for a moment, then reappeared.
"What the hell's going on over there?" I called. "Hold that light steady!"
Linda yelled, "Barbara's here! She can't get in the raft! I think her leg is broken!"
"Just wait till I get there and I'll boost her in! Hold that light steady!"
"Okay! Where are you?"
"I'm still at the tree! Keep the tree lit up and I'll find you!"
"Okay!"
Linda swept the darkness with the flashlight's beam until she found the tree, then me. I waved, of course, and I'm sure she waved back, not realizing that I couldn't see her do it. You think of odd things at times like those. I started swimming.
I was about halfway to the raft when something brushed past my legs, swimming in the same direction. It was easily as big as me.
My first thought was SHARK! and a little voice in my head screamed in primeval terror at the prospect of being ripped apart, but there was nothing to do but keep swimming.
Something bumped my sneakered foot and slid itself along my legs. If it wasn't the same one, it was just as big. Terror shot through me and I glanced to see how much farther it was to the raft.
TOO goddamn far! screamed that little voice, GO! GO!
I kept swimming, maybe a little faster than before, and trying to will myself to be invisible. My stroking hand struck solid flesh ahead of me. I had to stop to let it go by, and it took almost two full seconds to pass.
Big damned fish!
That's when I realized that something wasn't right. Sharks aren't soft and smooth. I sensed one of the shapes passing by on my right, so I reached to touch it. Soft and smooth again. It scooted from under my hand and made a loud exhaling noise a couple of feet away. The light breeze carried a mist to my face.
Dolphins! jabbered the hysterically relieved little voice, Porpoises! Things that don't eat people!
Happiness doesn't cover my feelings of that moment.
"Ed? Where are you?" called Linda. She sounded very worried.
"I'm here. Hold the light steady. I've got some company."
Linda found me with the light, and I guess she saw somebody's dorsal fin.
She screamed, "SHARKS! Get out of there!"
About the same time, Barbara screamed and began thrashing to try to get into the raft. She also let out a stream of incoherent words that ended in "SHARK!"
"NO!" I shouted, "NO! NOT SHARKS! Dolphins!"
I started swimming again, hoping Linda wouldn't bash one with that big-assed flashlight.
I finally reached the raft and hung on the side-ropes next to Barbara. She was trying to look in all directions at once and made little keening noises every time one of the fins passed by us.
She startled mightily when a nearby porpoise exhaled in a blast. I put a hand to her face and held her for a moment to get her attention.
"They're dolphins, Barb. I'll help you get in the raft. DON'T hurry and be careful of the leg."
She nodded. Linda pushed David to one side, then got a grip on Barbara's jacket straps. I put a hand under her fanny and we all heaved at once.
When Barbara's hips were up on the raft edge, she rolled on her back to ease her legs in. Her left shin bent slightly and I heard her contained scream, but she finished hauling herself into the raft and made an effort to get settled.
I'd hung an arm over the raft-edge, resting and waiting for Barbara to find a least-hurtful position. I'm not saying I had become truly comfortable with things, but suddenly I realized something was different.
The dolphins weren't blowing all around us as they had been. That bothered me greatly. I wanted OUT of the black water and into the raft, as fast as possible.
"Linda," I said urgently, "Let's get me aboard. Something's wrong out here."
She grabbed my shirt and pulled me up as I clambered aboard. I checked Barbara's leg and David's head. His skull seemed unbroken, but he was still unconscious. There was nothing to do about David but keep his face out of the water in the bottom of the raft.
Barbara hitched herself around a bit to lean back in the front of the raft and was painfully reminded that her leg was broken. Linda leaned forward to try to help, but all that did was create a dent in the bottom of the raft, which caused Barbara's leg to move again.
I looked around for something to use as a splint. The only suitable objects were the two-piece oars.
Each assembled oar was about five feet long. I unscrewed them to use the top parts to try to immobilize Barbara's leg, winding some of the ski rope around the whole affair to hold it. The paddle-pieces remained tied to the boat.
Barbara was looking at me strangely. Her voice was almost accusatory.
"You were still in the boat when it went down, Ed. The boat's gone. You can't be here."
"Very logical, Barbara, but ghosts aren't afraid of sharks, are they?"
I told them about my escape. Barbara still seemed somewhat dubious.
What looked like a small plastic hat was tied by about a yard of cord to a special fitting on the inside of the boat. I didn't untie it, I just began using it to scoop water out of the raft.
Linda was panning the flashlight around, looking for the dolphins. She thought she saw one near where my scooped water was landing and aimed the light at it.
As it swam near the raft and snap-rolled like a fighter jet to cruise away again, we realized it wasn't a dolphin. The face was all wrong. It had a sharp nose, an open gash for a mouth, and way too many triangular teeth.
I immediately decided to stop bailing for a while and looked at Linda. She seemed frozen, the light still shining into the water where we'd seen the shark and her eyes locked onto the spot.
I reached for the flashlight, tilting it skyward and taking it from her shaking hands, but I didn't turn it off. She turned to face me, but said nothing. She was absolutely terrified.
"No more lighting up the water," I said, "No more bailing for now, either, I guess. We don't need that kind of attention."
Linda nodded slowly. I noticed Barbara staring at us.
"Just a little shark," I said, "It swam away, though."
"It wasn't little," said Linda in a small voice.
"Well, no shark is really little, but that one wasn't big enough to worry about. It was only a few feet long. If we stay cool it'll go away."
Truth: I didn't know if it would go away or not, but it sounded good enough. What I didn't say was that one shark probably wasn't enough to make dolphins leave an area. I'd seen them attack sharks on TV.
"Okay," said Linda, "Okay. Let's take a minute to think, here. What happened to the boat and what do we do now?"
"We hit a tree," I said, "Endwise, at about 30 miles an hour. Now we wait."
"A tree? A tree?" Barbara was incredulous. "We hit a goddamned tree in the middle of the Atlantic ocean?"
"I saw it," said Linda, "I think it was a pine tree once."
"Floating around out here didn't change it," I said, "It was still a pine tree. A good-sized one, too."
"So where is it now?" asked Barbara, "We don't need to run into it twice."
"Good thinking," I said, "Let's have a look."
I shined the flashlight around us, being careful not to let it shine in or on the water too near the raft. We located the tree some distance to the left. It seemed farther away than I remembered, and I said as much.
"Good," said Barbara, "Maybe we're drifting faster than it is."
"At least it's not where it can hit us," said Linda.
"I just didn't want us running into any of the branches or roots," said Barbara, "They could put a hole in the raft."
"They could put a hole in us, too," said Linda, "What if it gets closer?"
"Then we look for a clean area along the trunk," I said, "We can paddle over to it and tie on there with the coolers between us and it. At least we'll know where it is all the time."
"Shit!" Barbara was agitated. "How did it get out here? What if there are more? How long until somebody finds us? We can't just sit here!"
Linda put a hand on Barbara's arm.
"Yes, we can just sit here. It's all we can do, Barb. Don't worry. Someone will find us tomorrow. People knew we were going. They'll know something's wrong when we don't show up for work."
It sounded good, anyway. But I was on vacation. David ran his own company and might or might not appear at the offices on any given day. Barbara lived and worked with David. Linda managed a restaurant, so she was the only one of us who should definitely be missed at work. I voiced my thoughts.
"Damn," said Linda. "Damn, damn, damn."
"What's the matter?" asked Barbara.
"I asked for Monday off," said Linda, "Because I worked last Saturday. Nobody will miss me until Tuesday."
The proverbial "deafening silence" settled over the raft for a few moments.
*****
About this time Sara released my hand and April's and leaned back in her chair. She stretched, sweeping her hair back with both hands, then reached for her coffee. April's hand stopped her motion.
"You're trembling," said April.
"Well, thanks for pointing it out to the world," snapped Sara.
There was a moment of quiet at the table, then, "Sorry, April. You're more used to him than I am, I guess. Does he do this sort of thing often?"
April grinned at her. "Often enough."
Sara grinned back, then looked at me.
"We've rescued people so often," she said, "But rarely with much thought about what they'd gone through before we arrived. The situation at hand is the one we deal with. We see suffering, and we feel for those suffering, but we really can't comprehend the depth of it because we don't share their vulnerability."
April hesitated, then concurred.
"No, we don't. We don't drown, burn, or crush very easily. We try to fix a situation, but that's about all there is to it most times. How someone got in a situation is unimportant. The job is to get them out of it."
I asked, "Doesn't knowing what led up to a situation help you solve it? I meant it when I called this 'entertainment'. Just like a movie, but one that feeds you the emotions of the events as well as the story."
"I don't think knowing how someone got there will help much in getting them out of a situation," said April, "And I didn't enjoy your feelings when the boat finally sank around you or when the shark appeared."
"Well, I did," said Sara, "It was a rush. I felt so charged!"
"Terror does that," I said, "And you can get hooked on it. Ever wonder why people jump out of planes, race cars, or do other dangerous things for fun?"
"I used to," said Sara, "Is that rush the reason you soldiered so long?"
"Partly," I said, "I was bored spitless as a civilian. In anyone's military, I was paid to be there. Out here, you need money to afford thrilling hobbies. Are you ready to hear the rest of the story about our shipwreck?"
"Sure!" said Sara, reaching across the table.
"No," said April, rising and heading for the kitchen, "I don't like what I felt. It made me nauseous, and I don't like that feeling. Go ahead without me."
Sara was staring at April, mouth open in startlement. She turned to look at me. I gave her a "whatthehelldoIknow?" shrug. I didn't hear anything happening in the kitchen, so it appeared that April was just in there to be away from us.
After a moment, Sara folded her arms and said, "Well, maybe later, Ed."
"Sure. Later. There isn't much to tell, anyway," I said, "We were picked up the next day by a fishing boat. Everybody made it back to shore."
Suddenly April came out of the kitchen. She was glaring at us, hands on hips.
"Oh, hey, now! Don't let me stop your fun together, kids! In fact, why don't I just dash out and see if anybody needs a rescue somewhere in the world? Maybe they won't mind that I just don't give a fat damn how they got there."
She then spun and marched out the front door. I made to rise and follow, mostly to ask April what the hell was wrong with her. Sara stopped me.
"She needs some time to herself. You couldn't catch up with her anyway."
"Time for what?" I snapped, "What the hell was that about? Can't she just tell me what's bothering her?"
"It won't help to get angry. She'll talk when she can. In the meantime, why don't you consider what she said before she left?"
"You mean about not giving a damn how they got there? I agree; I don't think people being rescued care what the rescuer is thinking."
"You'd probably be right ninety percent of the time, too," said Sara, heading for the kitchen, "But that isn't what I meant. Want a beer?"
She tossed a cold one to me without waiting for an answer.
"Take a deep breath, Ed. Clear your head. It's my turn to tell a story."
Sara opened her beer and took a long drink. I was going to do the same, but those ladies don't do anything that isn't worth watching. They're all so beautiful that their simplest motions can become fascinating.
She caught me watching from the corner of her eye and smiled. She took another drink, playing with the moment. I finally opened my own beer and took a sip.
Sara said, "April has never stayed with anyone as long as she has with you. She told me once that her feelings for you surprised her. The fact is, her feelings for you surprised all of us. We expected a few months, maybe, but not a whole year."
"Wonderful. Who do you think will win the pool?"
Sara chuckled. "Nope. No pool, no prize money. Just a bunch of surprised friends."
"You're telling me you think she's ready to move on?"
Sara sipped her beer again. "Could be. Are you ready for that?"
I thought about it.
"The signs have been there, haven't they? We've been pretty frustrated with each other lately."
"Noticeably so, when you've been out where anyone could notice."
"So why has she stayed this long? I knew she was seeing you and Andrea, but I expected that from day one. I only wondered why she never mentioned it. I figured she didn't want to hurt my feelings."
"You got it," said Sara, finishing her beer. "She heard what you said early on about being able to adapt to our rather open lifestyles, but I think she didn't really believe you could handle it. I'm going to have another. Want one?"
"Sure," I said, plunking myself on the couch and putting my feet up on the coffee table. I watched Sara stride to the kitchen. Great legs, just like the others. Also great hair, great bod, and beautiful, just like the others. The phrase 'Just Like The Others' began to take on some extra meaning for some reason.
Sara returned with the beer instead of throwing it this time. She strode over to hand it to me, then opened her own beer. It spewed and foamed, and she hurriedly covered the bottletop with her mouth to contain it.
There was beer dribbling down her cheeks, her throat, and her breasts. Some of it even made it to her legs. I watched a few droplets trickle down her thighs.
When I looked up, she giggled and said, "Oops..."
I opened my own beer carefully, but it just gave the usual hiss as the top came off. I sipped it thoughtfully and took a long look at Sara.
Her expression changed from one of feigned embarrassment to a cool gaze as she returned my appraising look.
"You didn't just happen to drop by, did you, Sara?"
"No." She sipped her beer.
"April set this up with you, right?"
"Right."
"And whether you were just taking advantage of a situation because you wanted me for yourself or were in collusion with April to change our relationship, you'd have given me the same answers just now, correct?"
Sara laughed, almost snorting her beer.
"You could think yourself into a corner, Ed."
I laughed with her briefly, then said, "Drink up and run along, Sara. I have to pack a few things and make some calls."
"What?" she seemed incredulous at this turn of events as she followed me into the bedroom. "What the hell are you talking about, Ed? Look, if you don't want me, that's fine, but you can't just leave without saying a word to April!"
I dampened a towel in the bathroom and tossed it to her. She began wiping the beer off.
"Wasn't going to sneak out, ma'am. And I do want you, Sara. That should be obvious."
She glanced downward, then back at my face.
"Then what's the problem?"
Sighing, I said, "Sara, I used to have a big pile of principles. One by one over the years I've tested them the way Romans used to test their new swords. You know how they did that?"
"No."
"The biggest Roman available would slam the sword on a log. If it didn't break, they bought it. That's how I've tested my principles, ma'am. I don't think I have any left that don't work. One of them is being able to tell it like it is or hear it like it is. Straightforward and outright, whenever possible."
"Nobody's maligning your principles, Ed. We just..."
I interrupted her.
"April can't tell me straight out that she needs more? You and she had to set up a little charade tonight? Nobody seems to have any faith that I ever knew what I was getting into, and that bugs me, Sara. The only things I know for sure at the moment are that things have gone sour, that April and I seem to need a break from each other, and that nobody seems to grant me any credit for having common sense."
I finished the beer and set the bottle down a little too firmly. The bedside table collapsed, taking the lamp and phone to the floor with it. I reached to place the receiver back on the hook and straighten the lamp. The table and bottle I took to the kitchen trash. When I came back, Sara was sitting on the bed.
"So now you're pissed off and you're going to leave?" she asked, "Instead of maybe trying to fit in with our, um.., extended arrangements?"
I laughed. "That's an excellent way of putting it, Sara. Maybe later I'll try to fit in. Right now April needs some time without me. Actually, I was going to go bunk in lab four until I can get back in touch with Solutions. They always need experienced personnel."
I put my suitcase on the bed.
"I thought you'd had enough of being a mercenary."
"Yeah, well, I thought so, too, once, but I'm not the same guy I was when I retired two years ago and it's something I've always done well."
"Bullshit. It's all you've ever done and you don't know anything else."
"Maybe. So what?"
"So why not learn something else? You don't have to go back to a damned war zone, do you? Haven't you ever wanted to do something else?"
I stopped pacing and looked at her.
"You're absolutely right, Sara. Now, like never before, I'm qualified to do something I dreamed of as a kid."
"What's that?"
I put the suitcase back and sat next to her.
"Space, Sara. When I was a kid I'd read anything I could find about it, science or science fiction."
Sara just stared at me as she asked, "What am I missing here? April or I could take you to space. You might even be able to get there on your own, from what I've heard. What the hell are you thinking, Ed?"
"NASA." I let the one word say everything.
Sara gave me a "get your head out of your ass" look.
"What's the problem?" I asked. "I can learn the math and whatever else, and I'm certainly durable enough since my enhancement."
"You're serious, aren't you?"
"Show me where I'm wrong, ma'am."
"Oh, well, hell, you may be right in thinking you could get in, but why would you want to? Like I said, just ask one of us. You don't need NASA."
"How do I put this? A ride to the moon with you or April would be fun, Sara. Exciting, even, the first few times out. But that wouldn't be exploration. It wouldn't be the having-your-ass-on-the-line thing that being an astronaut is all about."
"I'm going to get another beer," said Sara, "And wait for you to make some sense. You remember the shuttle explosion in eighty-six?"
"Yeah, I remember."
"An enhancee would walk away from something like that, Ed. If it's danger you're looking for, you'll have to look a little farther than NASA."
"A good point, but not a win, Sara. There's more to it than that."
"There better be," she said, stopping to face me in the kitchen archway, "Otherwise you're going to be very disappointed."
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