Kyra stood before the crew, her back to the cosmos, her hands on the table, her eyes shinning as pale blue suns. She said a Kulmyk command carrier was on its way to destroy them. She said she would be unavailable for awhile and regardless of what they saw or heard or felt, no one was take any action whatsoever. She paused and looked at Rog. He looked away. Then she looked at John while speaking to the entire group. "In my absence, prepare Bravo for transport and prepare yourselves. We have some unfinished business." She lifted her hands off the table as if daring anyone to speak. No one did."Snazzle?""Yes Kyra?""As soon as repairs are finished, and I suspect they will be finished within the hours, set course for the other Hynerian vessel in this sector.""And Snazzle?""Yes?""That would be Captain to you.""Yes Captain."Kyra turned back to the group and those that were there would swear later her body seemed haloed in a faint glimmering light. "Any questions?"None were forthcoming."Dismissed."
Trev tensed, involuntary as shallow breath. Em combed her fingers through his short hair, her thumb harrowing the shar pei furrow above his brow."Talk to me baby." She worked rows as a farmer before the coming rain. (Squishing one flat and two more sprung forth like weeds.)"Nothing to say."Em started to speak; silence slow as china falling between hand and floor.Trev turned his back, throwing his feet to the floor as rocks over a cliff. Em nestled to his warm back, her arms draped like vines over his shoulders, her head heavy as stone beside his. She kissed his ear, suckling his lobe as her fingers intertwined on his chest as if he were in danger of falling."Baby, I don't know what you're feeling." Her arms drew tighter. "But I tell you this mister pampus got my tongue. I'm here now and I will hold you till the twelfth of never. You see this?"Em held her brooch in front of Trev's silent face."I was strong then and I am strong now and if I have to carry us both, by Janus, I will."As if the throb of her heart were a hammer upon his back, tenderizing pain not seen, a tremble rolled from his diaphragm as a wave, spilling forth in tears harbored too long. His body went limp and Em pulled him back into the bed, his head in her chest, her hands on his head.Camera zooms out. Screen fades to black. Tracy Chapman's All That You Have is Your Soul plays. As the credits roll and the audience walks out, Chapman's Baby Can I Hold You plays.
"Are you Trevor?" the voice called though the slicing rain. Bravo neighing at moor."Trev." His letters as leaves on the wind."What?""Trev. My name is Trev.""Well, Trev," said the voice, poking him in the side, "if you aim to mount this ride . . ."Em stood as stone, head back, eyes red, pooling, supplicating like a forsaken angel. Crimson tears rolled like little beads of mercury, escaping over the curve of her trembling rims. Her arms hung down, elbows locked like ostrich knees, palms turned outward, buffered from her waist in disbelief.
Pinky fluttered about, eyes soundlessly clicking. "Hey Trev, where you going?" called Rog. "Trev?" Gone. The door to Em's quarters open. Rog peeked in. "Em?" Words swallowed in the silence as light into a black hole.Turning the corner Trev ran into Goldie, her arm poking him in the side. "Ouch.""Hey you, sleepyhead. That didn't hurt." Em poked Trev again. "You gonna sleep all morning?""What?""You were having some sort of strange dream."Trev rubbed his eyes, sheets like curtains on his waist. "Really?""Yeah, really," said Em, kissing his cheek, her hands massaging his shoulders."Wow." Trev shook his head as if to avoid contact."Who is Stacie?"
With the pad of his palm, Trev wiped beads of rain from the face of his chron. She was late. Traffic. Weather. He looked again, as if the looking itself had power, as the evidence of minutes ticked presented their case. With eyes full, he blinked, surveying the crowd on the dock from the awning of his cold dripping hand. Huddles of love, arms linked and eyes locked on loved ones. Any minute, any minute the brown grey masses would part and her bouncing blond hair would appear as a beacon in the brume. Voices awash on the wind, hats held tight to head, coats sodden, rain slapping faces like grinning monkeys, the dock wet with a dull shine. Each hug like a nail. Each kiss a lightning bolt. He looked again into the endless grey. A voice called from behind. He waved it off. Standing straight, on toes, eyes scanned as wiper blades, alone in their clocking back and forth. The voice called again. He yelled over the wind. “Trev, you okay?” asked Em.“What?”“Your palm is sweating.”“Oh.”“It’s okay. I will be fine. You’ll see. And I will too.” Em smiled.Trev pulled her tight. Her hair was not blond but the light in her heart shone as the light in his imagination thought it would have.
Dr X looked at Em with eyes soft as down, his shoulders huddled like a goose bracing a bitter winter wind. She looked back, eyes wide, the view before her, shades of shapeless golden colors dancing as the hope before a heart unscarred, her hand outstretched for the suitor. Trev stood to her side, his nervous hand on her right shoulder. Mairi, standing beside the doctor, refused to make eye contact. He tried to think his concern to her. The Dr sighed."Em." said Dr X."Yes," she replied, not allowing him to finish his thought."I don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it. We have two options.""Oh my Janus. What is wrong?""Nothing wrong. Everything is as it is.""Then what? Options? How can we have options if the path is clear? What's blocking our way?"Dr X drew a breath. "Your sight, the damage, is, more, how do I say it, delicate than I anticipated.""You can't fix it?" Em stood as if standing to confront the news, her fist balled at the end of forearms flexed."As I said, we have options. We can--"Tocsins blared and a faded red light flashed. "This is Kyra. I need everyone in the conference room. Now. Repeat. I need everyone in the conference room immediately."
"What is it Snazzle?" asked Kyra."There is a transmission I think you want to hear.""Damn it Snazzle, just tell me what it is.""I really think--""Don't you ever frailing try to tell me what I should think. Now tell me what you have before I yank your circuits into the noose I wrap around your shinny new levers.""Kyra, is everything--""Snazzle!""Yes ma'am. Kulmyk command has our coordinates. A command carrier is on its way." Static. "Kyra? Kyra?""Cut. Cut! What is it Kyra?" asked the director."Not the way it happened.""It's a movie. We need the drama. Gives you an edge.""Sorry, I wouldn't have reacted that way. Cut the scene or change it.""Kyra.""Don't Kyra me. Cut it or change it.""Everybody take five. Damn.""I kinda liked it," said Rog."Shut the frail up," winked Kyra.
"Bring more amsec," said Tabood, flipping coin before his buggered strumpets, fard like clowns. Heels of hire clicked as dutiful castanets. He sat his chair like a debauched king, a play of light dancing between legs flesh and paid, between mechanicals diabolically tainted by minds made rich in the perverted commerce, and gulped the sweet fruit to drown what could not be drowned."Sir, we have the coordinates.""Set course and notify command. Open channel.""Yes sir."_______Back on Kulmyk:Like an airborne snake, the whip uncurled, uncoiled, releasing energy like a devil's finger, furrowing the living flesh as blood tasted dank air; and the pale stone wall appeared as crimson speckled egg, cold in sweat, unspeaking, sentient as the unborn. Tom ground his teeth in the echo of snapping pizzle."Shame of the matter . . ." Whip cracked above his head, as if a token of mercy. " . . . Tabood has spoken, without the first lick of leather. Imagine that."Tom's face tightened as if words were knobs, each a twist to stretch skin over bone as a drummer might in tune."We have the coordinates. And, we have you. So, you might ask yourself, what is the measure of your pride?"Tom spit blood upon the blurry floor. His mind swimming in pain both sharp and dull, his back aflame as his chest throbbed, seeking release where no release would be quartered."All men break Tom. You will break too. Not because you can offer us anything we don't already have. Do you understand?"Tom defecated his reply, the floor a mixture foul of sight as of smell, his breathing labored as a horse chained before the carnifex, nostrils steaming in the dark cold."The question, Tom, is do you want to suffer, break and die; or do you want to break and die quickly. You see, you will break. You know that Tom. You know all men break. All men Tom. And you will break too.""Fuck you.""Tom, you know, I really didn't want to do this and I can't say I will take any pleasure from it either, but I don't have all day. You ain't the only business needing attention."The door opened and Tom's jaded eyes, once crusted slits, became wide. "Enough!"The door closed and the young boy removed. "Thank you Tom. Now tell me what you know and we'll avoid anymore unpleasantness. For the record Tom. For the children. The children must know the truth."Tom spoke. Then he spoke no more as the walls turned their red eyes closed.
