10:30 PM The Evans Residence, Roswell New Mexico
As she left Isabel’s room to go off to bed, Diane was actually starting to feel much better about the whole Isabel-Alex thing. She’d been working on it for four hours.
The initial step was to follow the two to the Crashdown, just to make sure that was where they were really going.
She and Nancy Parker had become quite a bit closer during the last two days, so she went around back and knocked on the door. A talk with Nancy revealed that Alex had been a friend of Liz and Maria for almost ten years, was clearly a guy in touch with his feminine side, and had acted like nothing but a gentleman in all of his dealings with both of the girls. Nancy went so far as to say that she would trust Alex with Liz anytime….not being quite so rude as to say…as opposed to a horndog like Max.
And Diane had watched the two surreptitiously from the back. It was like watching two fumbling sixth graders, blushing when they’d inadvertently touch, and confining their activities to holding hands. Even when he dropped her off, he’d given her only a somewhat chaste kiss on the cheek, and that had caused them both to blush. All of this had finally given Diane the courage to confront her demons and actually ask her daughter…..uh, how come you and Alex were napping in your room this morning.
And Isabel’s explanation, that she’d had a horrible dream about Max and Liz, had called Alex to talk about it, and he’d come over as a friend, actually sounded true…and Isabel hadn’t even blushed. It had ended up with a long mother-daughter talk about appearances, and that it’s generally best if boys don’t enter your room through the windows, and values, and the like.
And secretly, Diane had decided she kind of liked Alex, certainly in preference to the parade of plastic people that Isabel usually dated. And he’d even been gracious enough to compliment her meatloaf, which she knew wasn’t all that great. Heck, sometimes even Philip doused it with Tabasco sauce.
And all of this brought a ray of hope to Diane. Perhaps, just as she’d misjudged her daughter, she had also misjudged Max.
Max was a little harder to read than Isabel, always had been. She’d been sure for years that Max was keeping a secret from her and actually, up until he’d started dating Liz, had about decided that the secret was that he was gay.
And while she no longer thought that, the misunderstanding about the bedroom scene between Isabel and Alex had given her a hope that what had motivated Max and Liz to run off was the threat of losing the longstanding friendship between them.
Just perhaps, thought Diane, they really weren’t doing anything overtly sexual after all……..
1:30 AM Room 328 Circus-Circus Casino, On the Strip, Las Vegas NV
Liz was a shy person, always had been. So what was she doing on a bed in Las Vegas, wearing only a small piece of jewelry, waiting for Max? That was easy. The jewelry was a ring on her left hand. He had one too. They were married, and marriage had changed everything.
And at the beginning the Creator made them male and female, and said, For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh. So they are no longer two, but one. Therefore what God has joined together, let man not separate
The lines from the ceremony ran through her mind. The Elvis chapel was quite a funky place, but they sure did a lot of weddings. They had been given the option of all types of wedding vows, or they could even make up their own. Max had told her to choose, and she’d chosen a traditional service, with the old words.
Traditional. Much like the ring on her finger. She looked at it, and her heart melted all over again. Las Vegas was a funny town, the pawn shops were open all night. She remembered him running in there, after leaving the county clerk’s office, to buy the watch in the display case. It hadn’t even worked, but it was white gold…and he’d bought it for little more than the value of the metal itself.
He’d made two rings, one for each of them, using his powers. She had suggested the symbol on the orb, honoring his origin. The orb itself was long gone… buried deeply in the forest, 15 miles from Payson Arizona.
He’d shaken his head. ’I’m embracing my human side,’ he’d told her. The rings were a Celtic design, the Evans clan being of Gaelic origin. She looked at the interweaving strands of white gold, a smaller version of his, and smiled.
‘One flesh…’ she thought.
They were that…or at least would be very soon….she planned to do quite a lot of uniting with Max….likely before this very day was over. It had already been quite an interesting morning.
It was a good thing she wasn’t going to school today back in Roswell. The girls kidded one another if you had any hickeys at all, and the placement of some of hers left little doubt that the passion had gotten pretty intense. There would have been some real comments in the shower room after PE class. There was also the issue of the silver iridescence as well. Perhaps Max had abandoned his alien side, but it apparently hadn’t quite abandoned him. . And perhaps….a week ago… that might have bothered her…she might have felt frightened by it..but not anymore. Nothing about her beloved frightened her or embarrassed her….for they were one flesh.
They’d found, in their most passionate moments, that all he had to do was touch her in the darkness and her skin where he touched would light up with the shimmering silver iridescence. And if he allowed his lips to linger too long, too tightly, it took awhile to go away. He still seemed to have an affinity for her breasts, the evidence glowed visibly in the dimly lit room. It had gotten even more passionate tonight and she found herself waiting for their final consummation with growing impatience.
She had bought a negligee in one of the shops….but it was still in the box. She would probably take it back. He’d said he liked her in the boxers just fine. It had started out like the previous night, him finally spooning against her. She’d placed his hand as before, and felt the warmth of the gentle glow against her.
He’d been such a darling, asking how bad the cramps had been that day. When she’d replied that she hadn’t had a cramp for a day and a half…she just liked the feel of his hand there….well he had gotten mischievious…..well, they both had. He’d pulled the boxers from her and his hands and lips had explored her…intimately. His caresses and his touch had been welcome…and always would be, because they were one flesh..
They had gone to a New Years Eve party soon after they’d started dating…there had been little party favors …you pulled a string and they made a popping sound and shot confetti into the air. Well he’d discovered her string….and compared it to those. You could even joke about things like that when you were one flesh.
She’d told him it probably would be best if he let that one be. But that he’d be getting his fireworks in about twenty hours. He’d laughed and kissed her, his hand pressing against her then, the golden glow sending wave after wave of warmth deep into her…warming her…. exciting her flesh…their flesh.
She’d had to retaliate, of course, reaching up into his boxers…caressing…stroking…unashamed even when the explosion came, surprising them both..but not embarrassing them. Three days ago they would have been embarrasssed, especially Liz....but not now. Now she was unashamed…unashamed because they were one flesh.
She looked at the iridescence on the sheet next to her, and drew her fingers through it…..feeling the silkiness of it. She spread it against her inner thigh, watching the iridescence fade into her skin…. Before the day was done she planned for that iridescence to be inside of her.
While she was inexperienced in such things, she was pretty sure that the silvery glow wasn’t exactly normal, at least not for guys from earth, and only a few days ago the scientist part of her mind might have urged caution…but there were no such warnings today.
They were of one flesh, and she could never again fear anything about Max.
Liz reached for the phone and dialed the front desk…….
“Hello. This is Mrs. Evans in room 328. We had asked for an 8 o’clock wake-up call. Can we please change that to a 10 o’clock wake-up? “
“No problem, Mrs. Evans.”
“Thanks.”
She figured Max was going to need to get his rest this morning, because she planned on keeping him very busy tonight.
She got up out of bed and went to the bathroom door, hearing the shower running still. She had briefly thought of showering with him, but thought that would somehow defeat the whole purpose….
“Max. Stop being a shower-piggy. There’s someone else out here than needs it JUST as badly as you do. And you better not have used up all the cold water either, mister....”
"I am my beloved's, and his desire is upon me.” Song of Solomon
Discipline Malfunction (M/L Mature) [COMPLETE]
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
3:00 PM, Highway 95, passing through Goldfield Nevada
Max and Liz had gotten a late start out of Las Vegas. It had been almost 11 o’clock by the time they’d gotten up, got dressed, Liz had returned the negligee, and had a quick breakfast. They had done enough shopping to fill a little luggage, and that was quickly packed into the Jeep and they’d headed north to Reno. But even by the standards of kids raised in Roswell, they were passing some desolate country, and a lot of it.
The towns were few and small, but there was a lot of road. Once they had to slow for a small herd of wild horses crossing the road, and once while stopped for gas, wild burros had come up to the Jeep, begging for handouts. But mostly it was just desert, with arid rolling sand, or level alkali flats and, rarely, larger dry lake beds. What few signs of human life there were seemed to be old mines, that appeared long abandoned, and equally desolate appearing small farms and ranches that didn’t look like they’d been inhabited in decades.
The original plan had been to drive right through to Reno, but as the sun began to disappear behind the Sierra Nevadas to the west, that looked increasingly unlikely. As he saw the sign, ‘Tonopah Nevada, 14 miles’ Max decided that was as good a place as any (the selection being exceedingly small in any event) to get lunch, refuel, and consider their options. Besides, Liz needed to use the facilities.
They eventually came to a sign that said Tonopah Nevada, population 2721, Nye County Seat. The town itself looked like even that number might be an exaggeration.
There were what appeared to be a number of mines, three of which seemed to show at least some small amount of current activity. There was a small convention center and a number of hotels. But all they really wanted was a clean restroom and something to eat. They pulled in to a motel restaurant right across from the convention center and went inside.
Max waited at the front of the restaurant while Liz made a quick trip to the restroom. While he waited for her he observed what seemed to be total chaos in the restaurant dining area. There was one young girl no older than Liz waiting tables. The room was packed with mostly angry would-be diners, and the young lady was obviously flustered as she was ringing up the check for some angry customers who had just eaten. Max was already thinking this might NOT be the place that they wanted to eat…they had just eaten 4 hours earlier. This almost clinched it.
But a look on the wall map showed the next town as big as Tonopah was Fallon, and that was nearly all the way to Reno. Maybe he'd have to reconsider.
When Liz came out he started to talk to her about her options, but she seemed somewhat distracted, watching the young waitress. The sympathy in her eyes was apparent, and Max pretty well knew what was coming.
Liz was feeling in a pretty good mood when she came out of the bathroom, convinced that tonight was definitely going to be the night. But it was going to be at least another 5 hours to Reno, in the dark, on a road where wild horses and burros ranged freely. It wasn’t that Tonopah was actually that great of a town, but she wasn’t really interested in tourism. All she really wanted was a decent room for the night, with Max in it.
There wasn’t any urgent hurry to get to Reno, they were only leaving Las Vegas to try to find somewhere a little less popular, a little less likely they’d run in to someone from Roswell. And worse yet, they didn’t even have a way to reserve a room in Reno. Yes, they had plenty of money, but no credit card they could use to reserve the room, at least not without tipping off the folks. Maybe Tonopah would be OK for the night.
But when she saw the chaos in the restaurant, she immediately knew what was going on and her heart went out to the young waitress.
Liz had been working as a waitress on and off since she was twelve, and it had happened to her exactly twice. Once it had been a scheduling mixup, once a broken down car, but on both occasions she had wound up as a waitress working at a desperately understaffed restaurant, and the scenario was universal. If you didn’t have enough people to do the job in a timely fashion, people got mad. As they got mad, they got cantankerous, and as they got cantankerous they got difficult. Every angry patron that had to be dealt with took time, and those in the quay after them just got that much further behind. It was kind of a death spiral, getting further and further behind until total breakdown.
It didn’t look to Liz’s practiced eye that the young waitress had much experience at all, and she was trying to cope single-handedly with a crowd that would have challenged two waitresses, and she was almost in tears. Oh, the bus boy was helping a little bit, cleaning up tables and handing out menus, but he didn’t appear to speak enough English to be any good with orders or food delivery.
Even realizing the problem and having sympathy for the girl, Liz might have just let it go, it was not after all HER problem and she had some big plans for the night that she wanted to prepare for…but as a customer made some particularly rude comments about the speed of the service, the young girl appeared to sob, and that was enough for Liz.
Max wasn’t sure how well Liz’s decision to help the young waitress out would be received, but knowing Liz, what happened didn’t really surprise him. She grabbed an order book and went to the nearest table with menus, quickly taking the order and putting it up at the window to a cook who appeared only briefly surprised before grabbing it and getting to work. She returned again and again, gathering orders from a half dozen tables before the young waitress even noticed her. She too appeared briefly surprised, but very grateful. Gradually order seemed to be being restored.
Max wandered back to the registration desk and checked in, Mr and Mrs Mark Everett. They really didn’t have anything called a bridal suite so he got the silver nugget room, the nicest one available. He moved the luggage up and unpacked their things, stashing the cash in the closet and using his powers to temporarily freeze the doors closed.
Looking back in the restaurant, he watched Liz move among the customers with a smile and easy grace. As he watched her his mind seemed to wander and sensing the need for an urgent cold shower if his mind continued to wander in that direction, he thought he’d leave her to her work. He spoke enough Spanish from living in New Mexico that he understood the busboy telling him that the next shift of waitresses came on at 5:30. It appeared he had an hour and a half to kill.
He decided to explore Tonopah, hoping there was enough Tonopah there to last that long.
Max and Liz had gotten a late start out of Las Vegas. It had been almost 11 o’clock by the time they’d gotten up, got dressed, Liz had returned the negligee, and had a quick breakfast. They had done enough shopping to fill a little luggage, and that was quickly packed into the Jeep and they’d headed north to Reno. But even by the standards of kids raised in Roswell, they were passing some desolate country, and a lot of it.
The towns were few and small, but there was a lot of road. Once they had to slow for a small herd of wild horses crossing the road, and once while stopped for gas, wild burros had come up to the Jeep, begging for handouts. But mostly it was just desert, with arid rolling sand, or level alkali flats and, rarely, larger dry lake beds. What few signs of human life there were seemed to be old mines, that appeared long abandoned, and equally desolate appearing small farms and ranches that didn’t look like they’d been inhabited in decades.
The original plan had been to drive right through to Reno, but as the sun began to disappear behind the Sierra Nevadas to the west, that looked increasingly unlikely. As he saw the sign, ‘Tonopah Nevada, 14 miles’ Max decided that was as good a place as any (the selection being exceedingly small in any event) to get lunch, refuel, and consider their options. Besides, Liz needed to use the facilities.
They eventually came to a sign that said Tonopah Nevada, population 2721, Nye County Seat. The town itself looked like even that number might be an exaggeration.
There were what appeared to be a number of mines, three of which seemed to show at least some small amount of current activity. There was a small convention center and a number of hotels. But all they really wanted was a clean restroom and something to eat. They pulled in to a motel restaurant right across from the convention center and went inside.
Max waited at the front of the restaurant while Liz made a quick trip to the restroom. While he waited for her he observed what seemed to be total chaos in the restaurant dining area. There was one young girl no older than Liz waiting tables. The room was packed with mostly angry would-be diners, and the young lady was obviously flustered as she was ringing up the check for some angry customers who had just eaten. Max was already thinking this might NOT be the place that they wanted to eat…they had just eaten 4 hours earlier. This almost clinched it.
But a look on the wall map showed the next town as big as Tonopah was Fallon, and that was nearly all the way to Reno. Maybe he'd have to reconsider.
When Liz came out he started to talk to her about her options, but she seemed somewhat distracted, watching the young waitress. The sympathy in her eyes was apparent, and Max pretty well knew what was coming.
Liz was feeling in a pretty good mood when she came out of the bathroom, convinced that tonight was definitely going to be the night. But it was going to be at least another 5 hours to Reno, in the dark, on a road where wild horses and burros ranged freely. It wasn’t that Tonopah was actually that great of a town, but she wasn’t really interested in tourism. All she really wanted was a decent room for the night, with Max in it.
There wasn’t any urgent hurry to get to Reno, they were only leaving Las Vegas to try to find somewhere a little less popular, a little less likely they’d run in to someone from Roswell. And worse yet, they didn’t even have a way to reserve a room in Reno. Yes, they had plenty of money, but no credit card they could use to reserve the room, at least not without tipping off the folks. Maybe Tonopah would be OK for the night.
But when she saw the chaos in the restaurant, she immediately knew what was going on and her heart went out to the young waitress.
Liz had been working as a waitress on and off since she was twelve, and it had happened to her exactly twice. Once it had been a scheduling mixup, once a broken down car, but on both occasions she had wound up as a waitress working at a desperately understaffed restaurant, and the scenario was universal. If you didn’t have enough people to do the job in a timely fashion, people got mad. As they got mad, they got cantankerous, and as they got cantankerous they got difficult. Every angry patron that had to be dealt with took time, and those in the quay after them just got that much further behind. It was kind of a death spiral, getting further and further behind until total breakdown.
It didn’t look to Liz’s practiced eye that the young waitress had much experience at all, and she was trying to cope single-handedly with a crowd that would have challenged two waitresses, and she was almost in tears. Oh, the bus boy was helping a little bit, cleaning up tables and handing out menus, but he didn’t appear to speak enough English to be any good with orders or food delivery.
Even realizing the problem and having sympathy for the girl, Liz might have just let it go, it was not after all HER problem and she had some big plans for the night that she wanted to prepare for…but as a customer made some particularly rude comments about the speed of the service, the young girl appeared to sob, and that was enough for Liz.
Max wasn’t sure how well Liz’s decision to help the young waitress out would be received, but knowing Liz, what happened didn’t really surprise him. She grabbed an order book and went to the nearest table with menus, quickly taking the order and putting it up at the window to a cook who appeared only briefly surprised before grabbing it and getting to work. She returned again and again, gathering orders from a half dozen tables before the young waitress even noticed her. She too appeared briefly surprised, but very grateful. Gradually order seemed to be being restored.
Max wandered back to the registration desk and checked in, Mr and Mrs Mark Everett. They really didn’t have anything called a bridal suite so he got the silver nugget room, the nicest one available. He moved the luggage up and unpacked their things, stashing the cash in the closet and using his powers to temporarily freeze the doors closed.
Looking back in the restaurant, he watched Liz move among the customers with a smile and easy grace. As he watched her his mind seemed to wander and sensing the need for an urgent cold shower if his mind continued to wander in that direction, he thought he’d leave her to her work. He spoke enough Spanish from living in New Mexico that he understood the busboy telling him that the next shift of waitresses came on at 5:30. It appeared he had an hour and a half to kill.
He decided to explore Tonopah, hoping there was enough Tonopah there to last that long.
It was a slow walking tour of Tonopah Nevada for Max in the fading minutes of daylight. The High School was tiny by West Roswell standards, probably having less than three hundred students. Many parts of the Southwest were sparsely settled, but not many had more wide open places and fewer people than the rural areas of New Mexico and Nevada. Max looked at the small area of bleachers beside the field, wondering if they played eight-man football. But even at that, there was an alternative High School, no doubt for the stray Goth or free spirit that couldn’t deal with regular classes. But he noticed it did allow you to test for GEDs, and even take college extension courses from University of Nevada at Reno. Max approved of that. It gave the kids from this small town a chance academically. The land may appear a wasteland, although he’d always thought the desert had a quiet beauty of its own, but at least it wasn’t a wasteland as far as education. He wandered further to the old mining museum. And there he met Frank.
Roswell had its own old desert rats, as they were called. Max really wasn’t surprised that Tonopah had one as well. He looked to be somewhere between 65 and 95 years of age, any better assessment rendered impossible by his leathery skin, almost mahogany in color, reminding one of an old and well worn catcher’s mitt. There was a pot of coffee on the old pot-bellied stove in the corner, and as he entered the man’s eyes looked out from amongst a sea of crows feet and looked at him briefly, before motioning to the coffeepot. He pulled a flask out of his back pocket and poured a little in his own cup as Max poured his own, then offered it to him. “No thanks,” Max replied. His plans for the evening did not include getting intoxicated, at least not intoxicated with alcohol.
Max knew the type well, tough old birds who had made the desert life their own, men of strong will who usually had strong opinions and frequently liked strong drink as well. He had no doubt Frank knew everyone in town, so when Max came in to the museum he just automatically started telling him what he thought a stranger ought to know.
The town, Frank said, had started as a mining town, silver mostly, and a little gold. It still had four mines, and if the price of precious metals was high enough, anywhere up to three of them might be in operation. It had been the major town in Nye County when it started, a vast expanse of land reaching almost to Death Valley on the west, but over the years most of the mines had played out and even the ones currently operating were marginal operations that would shut their gates if the price of silver declined too much.
For awhile the ranches had been somewhat prosperous, but there just wasn’t much fresh water. Frank lived well outside of town, in an old house that had once been part of such a ranch getting his water from a shallow well. He said that it had so much alkali in it that most people couldn’t stand it, but he’d sort of gotten used to it.
Yeah, Frank was clearly a desert rat, alright. He said he’d once been a cowboy, and the town used to prosper back when there’d been the Roundup. Max listened while Frank told the stories of the glory years, rounding up mustangs off the range. The ‘damnpinkohippyeasterners,” that seemed to be a single word to Frank, had outlawed the roundup, since most of the horses were sold off for dog food.
“Now why the Hell would they do that?” he’d asked rhetorically, continuing on without actually giving Max a time to answer.
He said they weren’t a native species, had no natural predators, other than automobiles, and would overgraze the range, building vast herds in good years, then dying off of malnutrition and disease. He said the Bureau of Land Management tried to give them away…but generally could only catch the older mustangs that no one would take. These wound up just being penned up.
Max had seen the large corrals on the drive, maybe the old coot was actually right on that one.
Frank claimed what few horses really were adopted out were adopted by BLM employees who would keep them the required year, then ship them off to France to be eaten by “themdamncheeseeatensurrendermonkeys.”
Max assumed Frank had a TV in his cabin at least, getting a signal off the small UHF repeater antenna on the nearby mountain, likely had a lot in common philosophically with Homer Simpson as well.
Frank talked about WWII, when the local airport had been a military auxiliary strip and about the 1980s and early nineties when the Air Force ‘had them secret stealth planes over at the test range.” But since then, the town had eked out a meager existence from the mines and a somewhat better existence from tourism.
Frank said some real estate speculators had sold a whole lot of desert to fools back in the 60s, down in Pahrump in south Nye county. But after thirty years they were finally starting to build, and he suspected eventually the country seat would move down there as well...closer to the bright lights of Las Vegas.
Max was surprised at how fast the 90 minutes went, talking with old Frank. But hopefully, Liz would be getting done, and he wanted to get back to her. He thanked the old man for the coffee, and the pleasant conversation, and went back into the cold dark desert, walking back toward the convention center and the warmth of Liz.
Roswell had its own old desert rats, as they were called. Max really wasn’t surprised that Tonopah had one as well. He looked to be somewhere between 65 and 95 years of age, any better assessment rendered impossible by his leathery skin, almost mahogany in color, reminding one of an old and well worn catcher’s mitt. There was a pot of coffee on the old pot-bellied stove in the corner, and as he entered the man’s eyes looked out from amongst a sea of crows feet and looked at him briefly, before motioning to the coffeepot. He pulled a flask out of his back pocket and poured a little in his own cup as Max poured his own, then offered it to him. “No thanks,” Max replied. His plans for the evening did not include getting intoxicated, at least not intoxicated with alcohol.
Max knew the type well, tough old birds who had made the desert life their own, men of strong will who usually had strong opinions and frequently liked strong drink as well. He had no doubt Frank knew everyone in town, so when Max came in to the museum he just automatically started telling him what he thought a stranger ought to know.
The town, Frank said, had started as a mining town, silver mostly, and a little gold. It still had four mines, and if the price of precious metals was high enough, anywhere up to three of them might be in operation. It had been the major town in Nye County when it started, a vast expanse of land reaching almost to Death Valley on the west, but over the years most of the mines had played out and even the ones currently operating were marginal operations that would shut their gates if the price of silver declined too much.
For awhile the ranches had been somewhat prosperous, but there just wasn’t much fresh water. Frank lived well outside of town, in an old house that had once been part of such a ranch getting his water from a shallow well. He said that it had so much alkali in it that most people couldn’t stand it, but he’d sort of gotten used to it.
Yeah, Frank was clearly a desert rat, alright. He said he’d once been a cowboy, and the town used to prosper back when there’d been the Roundup. Max listened while Frank told the stories of the glory years, rounding up mustangs off the range. The ‘damnpinkohippyeasterners,” that seemed to be a single word to Frank, had outlawed the roundup, since most of the horses were sold off for dog food.
“Now why the Hell would they do that?” he’d asked rhetorically, continuing on without actually giving Max a time to answer.
He said they weren’t a native species, had no natural predators, other than automobiles, and would overgraze the range, building vast herds in good years, then dying off of malnutrition and disease. He said the Bureau of Land Management tried to give them away…but generally could only catch the older mustangs that no one would take. These wound up just being penned up.
Max had seen the large corrals on the drive, maybe the old coot was actually right on that one.
Frank claimed what few horses really were adopted out were adopted by BLM employees who would keep them the required year, then ship them off to France to be eaten by “themdamncheeseeatensurrendermonkeys.”
Max assumed Frank had a TV in his cabin at least, getting a signal off the small UHF repeater antenna on the nearby mountain, likely had a lot in common philosophically with Homer Simpson as well.
Frank talked about WWII, when the local airport had been a military auxiliary strip and about the 1980s and early nineties when the Air Force ‘had them secret stealth planes over at the test range.” But since then, the town had eked out a meager existence from the mines and a somewhat better existence from tourism.
Frank said some real estate speculators had sold a whole lot of desert to fools back in the 60s, down in Pahrump in south Nye county. But after thirty years they were finally starting to build, and he suspected eventually the country seat would move down there as well...closer to the bright lights of Las Vegas.
Max was surprised at how fast the 90 minutes went, talking with old Frank. But hopefully, Liz would be getting done, and he wanted to get back to her. He thanked the old man for the coffee, and the pleasant conversation, and went back into the cold dark desert, walking back toward the convention center and the warmth of Liz.
Betty Ann was hurrying to get back to the restaurant because she was certain of the chaos that would greet her there. Betty Ann had been around restaurants for over fifty years.
She’d lived in Tonopah all of her life. Been married twice and outlived both husbands. Her first had been her High School sweetheart. He was two years older than her. She had just been starting her junior year when he’d joined the Marines, knowing he would soon be drafted anyway. He’d come back to Tonopah on leave enroute to fight in Korea. He had two weeks before he needed to ship out from the West Coast. They’d eloped..gone to Reno and gotten married, enjoyed ten days of total bliss. He’d come back to her from Korea four months later, in a pine box. She still left flowers on his gravesite, in the cemetery above the town, on the anniversary of their marriage.
She’d moved on, although it was another five years before she’d remarried. He was up there too, although they’d had a pretty good forty years together. She’d been a waitress, a restaurant owner, and now the owner of a restaurant and motel. She wished that she’d had children, but overall she couldn’t complain, she’d had a pretty good life.
She could have retired, of course, sold the business. But what then? Watch daytime soap operas? Not for her. Besides, she enjoyed the people.
In a day when everyone was told the priority was the customer, and the customer was always right, Betty Ann was a bit of an anachronism. She did like customers, always had, but her employees to her were like the family that she never had, and she was worried about three of them right now.
Jenny had worked all morning, but by noon just hadn’t been acting right. Betty Ann had cornered her finally, and she’d admitted that she had some cramping. Jenny and her husband had been trying to have a child for years, so she’d insisted the young woman go get checked, and it was a good thing too. Jenny was up in Reno now, hospitalized on medicine to stop the contractions. The baby really wasn’t due for another eleven weeks.
Normally Lucinda would have been there, but she had a sick child, so Betty Ann had asked Rachel if she’d work on her day off. Rachel’s husband was in the military, overseas for a year. Enroute to the babysitters, her small car had hit a horse that bolted across the windy canyon road. The baby had been safe in its car seat in back, but Rachel had struck her head on the side window as the car had overturned.
For the last three hours that had occupied Betty Ann, first at the hospital, making sure Rachel was alright, then on the road to Goldfield, where the infant could stay with its aunt while Rachel stayed overnight for observation.
Economically, Rachel would do fine…so would Jenny. Her employees were her family, and Betty Ann didn’t short them on health or disability benefits. And it really did seem like everything would be alright with Jenny and Rachel, even Lucinda’s little boy Billy. But the one she was really worried about right now as she drove 80 mph back from Goldfield was Anna.
Anna was another Tonopah girl…only sixteen. Her mother…well, Betty Ann didn’t like to say bad things about people, but she really didn’t think much of Anna’s mother. Anna’s father had left when she was two, and it was kind of hard to blame him really. Anna’s mom was a drunk, unfaithful, and at times even violent. In fact, Anna’s father might well have not really been her father at all. Even so, Betty Ann thought Anna deserved better than to be abandoned by the man.
Her mother had never remarried, but the alimony had been good…good enough for a small house...and a lot of booze. Her mother had a number of boyfriends living with them over the years, the years she spent drinking and using drugs. Eventually one of the boyfriends decided while he was drunk that Anna was more attractive than her mother….Anna had run off after that, but she really had no place to go.
She’d dropped out of school, started using drugs herself then…she’d been fifteen. She had just completed treatment two weeks ago and Betty Ann had given her a job and a place to stay, trying to help her get her life back together.
And Betty Ann could only imagine the chaos that Anna had endured the last three hours, trying to cope single-handedly with a restaurant full of delegates to the convention. And while Betty Ann really had sympathy for those delegates, fifty years of waitressing gave her the experience to know just how hard they were going to be on Anna, and she was almost terrified about the psychological effect the angry mob would have on the fragile girl. As she hurried in to the restaurant, she was expecting the worst. But that wasn’t what she saw.
The dining area was pretty full, but things were running surprisingly smoothly. Anna looked up from where she was refilling someone’s coffee and saw Betty Ann. She had a funny smile on her face. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head toward a raven haired girl that was picking up orders at the window. Anna’s body language was pretty easy to interpret, sort of, ‘don’t ask me….but I’m not complaining..’
Betty Ann sat down at the empty seat watching her. It was about 60 seconds later that the girl came to her with a menu and a glass of water. She took the glass and thanked her. “I don’t think I need the menu,” said Betty Ann, “I’m pretty familiar with it. It’s my restaurant. Would you like to sit and talk for a minute?”
She’d lived in Tonopah all of her life. Been married twice and outlived both husbands. Her first had been her High School sweetheart. He was two years older than her. She had just been starting her junior year when he’d joined the Marines, knowing he would soon be drafted anyway. He’d come back to Tonopah on leave enroute to fight in Korea. He had two weeks before he needed to ship out from the West Coast. They’d eloped..gone to Reno and gotten married, enjoyed ten days of total bliss. He’d come back to her from Korea four months later, in a pine box. She still left flowers on his gravesite, in the cemetery above the town, on the anniversary of their marriage.
She’d moved on, although it was another five years before she’d remarried. He was up there too, although they’d had a pretty good forty years together. She’d been a waitress, a restaurant owner, and now the owner of a restaurant and motel. She wished that she’d had children, but overall she couldn’t complain, she’d had a pretty good life.
She could have retired, of course, sold the business. But what then? Watch daytime soap operas? Not for her. Besides, she enjoyed the people.
In a day when everyone was told the priority was the customer, and the customer was always right, Betty Ann was a bit of an anachronism. She did like customers, always had, but her employees to her were like the family that she never had, and she was worried about three of them right now.
Jenny had worked all morning, but by noon just hadn’t been acting right. Betty Ann had cornered her finally, and she’d admitted that she had some cramping. Jenny and her husband had been trying to have a child for years, so she’d insisted the young woman go get checked, and it was a good thing too. Jenny was up in Reno now, hospitalized on medicine to stop the contractions. The baby really wasn’t due for another eleven weeks.
Normally Lucinda would have been there, but she had a sick child, so Betty Ann had asked Rachel if she’d work on her day off. Rachel’s husband was in the military, overseas for a year. Enroute to the babysitters, her small car had hit a horse that bolted across the windy canyon road. The baby had been safe in its car seat in back, but Rachel had struck her head on the side window as the car had overturned.
For the last three hours that had occupied Betty Ann, first at the hospital, making sure Rachel was alright, then on the road to Goldfield, where the infant could stay with its aunt while Rachel stayed overnight for observation.
Economically, Rachel would do fine…so would Jenny. Her employees were her family, and Betty Ann didn’t short them on health or disability benefits. And it really did seem like everything would be alright with Jenny and Rachel, even Lucinda’s little boy Billy. But the one she was really worried about right now as she drove 80 mph back from Goldfield was Anna.
Anna was another Tonopah girl…only sixteen. Her mother…well, Betty Ann didn’t like to say bad things about people, but she really didn’t think much of Anna’s mother. Anna’s father had left when she was two, and it was kind of hard to blame him really. Anna’s mom was a drunk, unfaithful, and at times even violent. In fact, Anna’s father might well have not really been her father at all. Even so, Betty Ann thought Anna deserved better than to be abandoned by the man.
Her mother had never remarried, but the alimony had been good…good enough for a small house...and a lot of booze. Her mother had a number of boyfriends living with them over the years, the years she spent drinking and using drugs. Eventually one of the boyfriends decided while he was drunk that Anna was more attractive than her mother….Anna had run off after that, but she really had no place to go.
She’d dropped out of school, started using drugs herself then…she’d been fifteen. She had just completed treatment two weeks ago and Betty Ann had given her a job and a place to stay, trying to help her get her life back together.
And Betty Ann could only imagine the chaos that Anna had endured the last three hours, trying to cope single-handedly with a restaurant full of delegates to the convention. And while Betty Ann really had sympathy for those delegates, fifty years of waitressing gave her the experience to know just how hard they were going to be on Anna, and she was almost terrified about the psychological effect the angry mob would have on the fragile girl. As she hurried in to the restaurant, she was expecting the worst. But that wasn’t what she saw.
The dining area was pretty full, but things were running surprisingly smoothly. Anna looked up from where she was refilling someone’s coffee and saw Betty Ann. She had a funny smile on her face. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head toward a raven haired girl that was picking up orders at the window. Anna’s body language was pretty easy to interpret, sort of, ‘don’t ask me….but I’m not complaining..’
Betty Ann sat down at the empty seat watching her. It was about 60 seconds later that the girl came to her with a menu and a glass of water. She took the glass and thanked her. “I don’t think I need the menu,” said Betty Ann, “I’m pretty familiar with it. It’s my restaurant. Would you like to sit and talk for a minute?”
1800 hours Communications Center, Bolling Air Force Base, Washington DC
It was a routine sort of message, and except for the security classification status of the recipient base, was really nothing special. It read.
It was a routine sort of message, and except for the security classification status of the recipient base, was really nothing special. It read.
- Classification: Top Secret, Special access program POINT ABLE
To: Det 24
From: USAF/CV
Subject: Personnel assignment
Be advised that Colonel Steve M. Randolph has been assigned as commander, Det 24, effective upon arrival, vice current commander.
For the Commander
Richard Edwards, General, USAF
cc:- Dreamland/CC
USAF Air Warfare Center/CC, Nellis AFB NV
- Dreamland/CC
Last edited by greywolf on Tue Jan 09, 2007 3:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Betty Ann had been analyzing her from the moment that Anna had pointed her out. She moved with an unhurried grace and efficiency that spoke of considerable experience doing this kind of work, despite her obvious youth….too much youth, Betty Ann thought as Liz sat down, for that wedding ring. It was obvious it was new, she still played with it nervously, and there was no indication of either a groove in her skin from long wear, or even the absence of a tan that would be expected after only a few days in the bright desert. So what was this? An underage bride who had eloped…then interrupted her honeymoon to be a good Samaritan? Whatever the case, Betty Ann figured, she owed the girl. Anna had not been ready for what she was left with, and if she had needed to handle it alone, there was little doubt she'd have been in tears. Anna had experienced enough without having to feel incompetent because circumstances had put her in over her head.
"I'm Betty Ann," she said, holding out her hand.
"UH…Beth…uh…Beth Everett" she replied, shaking the hand.
Betty Ann noted the hesitation in giving the last name. Given the new wedding ring, that went with the territory. But the hesitation with the first was a little more puzzling. But she seemed nice enough. Almost certainly no Bonnie, although she'd have to get a look at her Clyde to be completely sure. Most likely just a couple of youngsters who had eloped…maybe traveling under a false name. Oh sure, it'd been over fifty years, but she'd done that once too.
"Well Beth, I'd like to thank you for helping out Anna. She's only worked two weeks, and a couple of the other waitresses had problems. I'd have been here myself before this if I hadn't been taking one of their children to stay with her aunt. The mother had to be hospitalized."
"That's terrible. Will she be OK?"
"Yes, almost certainly. But she got a nasty bump on the noggin..she'll be in the hospital overnight…then taking it easy at home for a few days. But she'll be back before my other daytime waitress…she's hospitalized to stop her labor. Even if they let her out, she'd not going to be on her feet much for the next eleven weeks. I don't suppose you are looking for a job?"
"Actually, we were on our way to Reno and then kind of ran out of daylight. Then I saw a customer kind of chewing on…Anna, you said her name was? Well, that happened to me a couple of times too. I just couldn't not help her, although I think I confused your cook and busboy. Oh…here comes Ma-a…my husband, uh Mark."
Betty Ann watched the young man come in and walk up to the table, he was not much older than Beth. The rings were identical, and just as new.
"Mark…this is Betty Ann. She owns the restaurant."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance Ms…"
"Betty Ann is fine, Mark." She looked at Liz. "Beth here tells me you are just passing through. That's too bad. I could certainly use another good waitress right now."
"I uh.. kind of had plans for her myself tonight," Max said, wincing as Liz's foot kicked him under the table.
Betty Ann looked at the blushing girl. She hadn't missed the quick kick, the sudden wince, and nobody would miss the blush coming in to Beth's cheeks, She fought back a laugh, knowing she'd only get the young man in further trouble.
"Well, think it over. Should you decide you might want to stay awhile, I've got jobs for both of you. We need a guy on the registration shift too, Mark. Neither job pays a lot, but the medical benefits are good and between the two together…well you could put away some money. I've got a number of old houses out by the airport, used to be military housing back in the fifties, when it was still an auxiliary field for Nellis Air Force Base. With a little fixing up and a propane tank hooked up, they'd work out OK. And the price would be right. They are just sitting empty now, except for the one I let Anna use."
Max and Liz looked at each other, thinking the same thing. If you are just trying to hide out, a rural area was often your best bet. And it didn't get much more rural than Tonopah Nevada.
"I'll tell you what," said Liz. "Plan on me working the day shift tomorrow with Anna. Mark and I will talk it over tonight..and have an answer by morning."
"That seems more than fair, Beth. And if you decide against it, I'll have a paycheck for you for those hours, plus the hours you've worked today. And since I see the night shift getting here, just relax. Better yet, order whatever you want on that menu…both of you. It's on the house."
'Besides,' she thought. 'From the look of your young man there, you are going to need your strength to last until morning…'
"I'm Betty Ann," she said, holding out her hand.
"UH…Beth…uh…Beth Everett" she replied, shaking the hand.
Betty Ann noted the hesitation in giving the last name. Given the new wedding ring, that went with the territory. But the hesitation with the first was a little more puzzling. But she seemed nice enough. Almost certainly no Bonnie, although she'd have to get a look at her Clyde to be completely sure. Most likely just a couple of youngsters who had eloped…maybe traveling under a false name. Oh sure, it'd been over fifty years, but she'd done that once too.
"Well Beth, I'd like to thank you for helping out Anna. She's only worked two weeks, and a couple of the other waitresses had problems. I'd have been here myself before this if I hadn't been taking one of their children to stay with her aunt. The mother had to be hospitalized."
"That's terrible. Will she be OK?"
"Yes, almost certainly. But she got a nasty bump on the noggin..she'll be in the hospital overnight…then taking it easy at home for a few days. But she'll be back before my other daytime waitress…she's hospitalized to stop her labor. Even if they let her out, she'd not going to be on her feet much for the next eleven weeks. I don't suppose you are looking for a job?"
"Actually, we were on our way to Reno and then kind of ran out of daylight. Then I saw a customer kind of chewing on…Anna, you said her name was? Well, that happened to me a couple of times too. I just couldn't not help her, although I think I confused your cook and busboy. Oh…here comes Ma-a…my husband, uh Mark."
Betty Ann watched the young man come in and walk up to the table, he was not much older than Beth. The rings were identical, and just as new.
"Mark…this is Betty Ann. She owns the restaurant."
"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance Ms…"
"Betty Ann is fine, Mark." She looked at Liz. "Beth here tells me you are just passing through. That's too bad. I could certainly use another good waitress right now."
"I uh.. kind of had plans for her myself tonight," Max said, wincing as Liz's foot kicked him under the table.
Betty Ann looked at the blushing girl. She hadn't missed the quick kick, the sudden wince, and nobody would miss the blush coming in to Beth's cheeks, She fought back a laugh, knowing she'd only get the young man in further trouble.
"Well, think it over. Should you decide you might want to stay awhile, I've got jobs for both of you. We need a guy on the registration shift too, Mark. Neither job pays a lot, but the medical benefits are good and between the two together…well you could put away some money. I've got a number of old houses out by the airport, used to be military housing back in the fifties, when it was still an auxiliary field for Nellis Air Force Base. With a little fixing up and a propane tank hooked up, they'd work out OK. And the price would be right. They are just sitting empty now, except for the one I let Anna use."
Max and Liz looked at each other, thinking the same thing. If you are just trying to hide out, a rural area was often your best bet. And it didn't get much more rural than Tonopah Nevada.
"I'll tell you what," said Liz. "Plan on me working the day shift tomorrow with Anna. Mark and I will talk it over tonight..and have an answer by morning."
"That seems more than fair, Beth. And if you decide against it, I'll have a paycheck for you for those hours, plus the hours you've worked today. And since I see the night shift getting here, just relax. Better yet, order whatever you want on that menu…both of you. It's on the house."
'Besides,' she thought. 'From the look of your young man there, you are going to need your strength to last until morning…'
Last edited by greywolf on Fri Jan 12, 2007 1:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The dinner they chose was fajitas for two, and it was excellent. Betty Ann had served it to them herself.
They appeared to like intense flavors in Tonopah. The good news, as far as Liz was concerned, was that the salsa was on the side, her first taste of it had threatened to blister her lips…and she had plans for those lips, in the immediate future. The good news for Max was….besides the anticipation…that was the best salsa he'd ever tasted, and he slathered it on his tortillas as he constructed his fajitas from the large black skillet that sizzled before them.
The flan appeared to have about a million calories per teaspoonful, and they savored it, eating it slowly with small spoons, Liz shaking her head in amused amazement as Max would add leftover salsa from the dinner to his. 'Maybe we really aren't the same species after all,' she thought in amusement. At least, it was amusing at first. But as she contemplated that more…she felt a vague disquiet.
She had reassured him…reassured him that it would make no difference to her…even if their chemistries weren't compatible…but that wasn't entirely true. She really did want it all. And all included to carry Max's children…not now, certainly….they were already in over their head or nearly so…but someday.
Max and Isabel and Michael seemed so…human, except for their powers…clearly a big exception, and their love of sweet and spicy. It really didn't seem reasonable to her as a biologist for evolution to work that way. It really seemed like, they were at least part human, and for that part to work with their alien part….well the chemistry just could not be all that different. So..how had that worked on the planet they were from…how had they evolved their powers?
Liz knew that her energy came from mitochondria and that these mitochondria had originally evolved separately probably as some kind of bacteria and that they had their own DNA.
Was there something different about the mitochondria in Max? It must be. And what did that say about any children they might have? In humans, the mitochondria come from the mother. They are in the egg already when it is fertilized and usually, there is no mitochondria from the father. So if their cells were alike, maybe they could have children…maybe whatever was different about him was ONLY in those mitochondria, and they could have children, children with no powers. Oh, sometimes SOME of the fathers mitochondrial DNA would get in to the egg…from the tail of the sperm…from the little organelles that made the tail move so the sperm could swim…but usually not very much…only one percent or so. So maybe it would work…maybe they could have it all.
Liz remembered the nights since their marriage. Max had been so patient, so sweet. She probably ought to have wedding night anxiety….but she didn't. The girl who'd always had a plan for everything had run off almost on a whim…and been married at sixteen because she loved him, certainly, but the love would have lasted...they could have waited. It was really, she decided, because the other options were worse.
Their parents had been wrong about them..they would have waited…if they could have waited together. But not now. She couldn't go back, wouldn't go back, couldn't even imagine it.
The nights she had spent in his arms had consummated her feelings for him. The love was now much too strong to deny, much too strong to put off. Oh yes, Liz Evans was going to have sex with her husband tonight…no question about that. But it wasn't because she or he were desperate hormone-driven teenagers…it was because she knew that it was right…..like nothing in her life had ever been right before.
"Max," she whispered. "It's been a long trip…..all the way from Roswell. Don't you think it's time we went to bed?"
They appeared to like intense flavors in Tonopah. The good news, as far as Liz was concerned, was that the salsa was on the side, her first taste of it had threatened to blister her lips…and she had plans for those lips, in the immediate future. The good news for Max was….besides the anticipation…that was the best salsa he'd ever tasted, and he slathered it on his tortillas as he constructed his fajitas from the large black skillet that sizzled before them.
The flan appeared to have about a million calories per teaspoonful, and they savored it, eating it slowly with small spoons, Liz shaking her head in amused amazement as Max would add leftover salsa from the dinner to his. 'Maybe we really aren't the same species after all,' she thought in amusement. At least, it was amusing at first. But as she contemplated that more…she felt a vague disquiet.
She had reassured him…reassured him that it would make no difference to her…even if their chemistries weren't compatible…but that wasn't entirely true. She really did want it all. And all included to carry Max's children…not now, certainly….they were already in over their head or nearly so…but someday.
Max and Isabel and Michael seemed so…human, except for their powers…clearly a big exception, and their love of sweet and spicy. It really didn't seem reasonable to her as a biologist for evolution to work that way. It really seemed like, they were at least part human, and for that part to work with their alien part….well the chemistry just could not be all that different. So..how had that worked on the planet they were from…how had they evolved their powers?
Liz knew that her energy came from mitochondria and that these mitochondria had originally evolved separately probably as some kind of bacteria and that they had their own DNA.
Was there something different about the mitochondria in Max? It must be. And what did that say about any children they might have? In humans, the mitochondria come from the mother. They are in the egg already when it is fertilized and usually, there is no mitochondria from the father. So if their cells were alike, maybe they could have children…maybe whatever was different about him was ONLY in those mitochondria, and they could have children, children with no powers. Oh, sometimes SOME of the fathers mitochondrial DNA would get in to the egg…from the tail of the sperm…from the little organelles that made the tail move so the sperm could swim…but usually not very much…only one percent or so. So maybe it would work…maybe they could have it all.
Liz remembered the nights since their marriage. Max had been so patient, so sweet. She probably ought to have wedding night anxiety….but she didn't. The girl who'd always had a plan for everything had run off almost on a whim…and been married at sixteen because she loved him, certainly, but the love would have lasted...they could have waited. It was really, she decided, because the other options were worse.
Their parents had been wrong about them..they would have waited…if they could have waited together. But not now. She couldn't go back, wouldn't go back, couldn't even imagine it.
The nights she had spent in his arms had consummated her feelings for him. The love was now much too strong to deny, much too strong to put off. Oh yes, Liz Evans was going to have sex with her husband tonight…no question about that. But it wasn't because she or he were desperate hormone-driven teenagers…it was because she knew that it was right…..like nothing in her life had ever been right before.
"Max," she whispered. "It's been a long trip…..all the way from Roswell. Don't you think it's time we went to bed?"
Last edited by greywolf on Fri Jan 12, 2007 7:50 pm, edited 1 time in total.
9:00 PM The Silver Nugget Room, Tonopah Nevada
The room would have been totally dark, had it not been lit by the silvery iridescence where they touched. The kissing had started it, the silvery shimmering. And she warned him immediately….
"Max, dear.. I have to work tomorrow. I can't have silver hickeys where everyone can see them."
"Well good, Liz. That wasn't where I intended to put them anyway."
"Max you are incorrigibllll……"
"Hmm?"
"Hmmm..what?"
"You started to say something..?"
"I did? I can't seem to recall…..MMMMMmmmm…there."
"What?"
"I said right there….oh, I love the feel of you kissing me there.."
"Is that what you were saying a second ago..?"
"I don't….Yes, I guess so….mmmmmm"
And it really wasn't that there was not a lot of communication going on..for there was. It was just non-verbal communication... It was twenty-minutes later that the next verbal communication ensued.
For most of Max Evans' life he had believed that he could never be accepted by her. For most of the last five months he had believed they could never really be a couple. Even for the two months they'd been dating..he'd never really believed that their being a couple would work out. Only in the last three days had he really believed that it really MIGHT happen, that his wildest dreams would really come true and they would someday actually belong to each other. But there comes a time when you can suspend disbelief no longer…even if you are as big a pessimist as Max Evans..and he was almost there. But not quite…..
"Liz…are you sure…I mean..you still have a chance to back out…?"
She tried hard not to laugh.
"Sure Max…if I can back my way through this mattress. If you are doing this to tease me you are going to get some claw marks on your back…"
She felt her body part as he slowly entered her..felt him hesitate at the obstruction, afraid to be too forceful…afraid to cause her pain. She felt the thrust start slowly and lifted her pelvis to meet him, biting her lower lip in concentration, trying to control the spasms in her vagina as the tissue protested the unaccustomed stretching….feeling the warmth of him flowing in to her. The flashes came into her mind then as the connection formed, and she felt what he felt and he felt what she felt as their bodies moved together as if they had minds of their own.
She didn't mean to do it....and he didn't notice when it happened...but he STILL got the claw marks on his back, even without teasing her.....
Her pelvis seemed to burn with a liquid fire that raced through her body…not painful but…alive….alive as she had never been alive before. The climax came to them simultaneously and the fire became all consuming as there bodies locked together…their hearts pounding, her muscles contracting upon him as if to trap him forever inside of her….
The iridescence was gone, but they saw each other in the dim light from around the window shade. Not that they needed eyes. They too were in about as close contact as it was possible for a man and woman to be. And they lay together, content….at least for another half hour or so…and happy.
They weren't really sure what that vision had been all about, but the sex had been……AWESOME, and this cuddling afterwards was wonderful. It would be a long and interesting night for the two of them, and they'd wonder….only as an afterthought…why they no longer saw the silvery iridescence. The correct answer, of course, was that they weren't looking in the right place….
Three hundred million iridescent sperm were fighting for entry to Liz Evans cervix. Most wouldn't make it. Some few million would. They would charge gleefully up her uterus, seeking her fallopian tubes. Only a few hundreds of thousands would find them. And even these would know only disappointment…looking in total futility for the egg that the birth control patch had denied them.
A few tens of thousands would spill out of her fallopian tubes, into her abdomen. Within three days they would be dead, and as the lymphocytes in her body scavenged the remnants, the lysosomes would break down the DNA in the mitochondria that had energized their flagella, and in doing so they would sever from that DNA the virus that had infected the first Antarean over 50,000 years previously, the virus that being had spread to his mate…to their offspring…the virus that had infected all the mates of all of their subsequent offspring….the symbiotic virus that had given the descendants of that first being such an evolutionary advantage.
Within Liz's abdomen it was not dark. There was a soft iridescent glow that would last until her lymphocytes were done scavenging the dead sperm and the mitochondria that powered their flagella.
The lymphocytes would carry those fragments with them then as they retreated back into her lymphatic system to follow the channels to the thoracic duct where they would be dumped into her bloodstream and distributed throughout her entire body.
The viruses were hardy…they would survive. Perhaps they could even find some new mitochondria to infect. After all, there was no difference between humans and Antareans at all…except for a harmless viral infection and the power it provided to the mitochondria.
But it would take awhile. And since he couldn't reach them himself, Max Evans would just have to live with those claw marks on his back.....
The room would have been totally dark, had it not been lit by the silvery iridescence where they touched. The kissing had started it, the silvery shimmering. And she warned him immediately….
"Max, dear.. I have to work tomorrow. I can't have silver hickeys where everyone can see them."
"Well good, Liz. That wasn't where I intended to put them anyway."
"Max you are incorrigibllll……"
"Hmm?"
"Hmmm..what?"
"You started to say something..?"
"I did? I can't seem to recall…..MMMMMmmmm…there."
"What?"
"I said right there….oh, I love the feel of you kissing me there.."
"Is that what you were saying a second ago..?"
"I don't….Yes, I guess so….mmmmmm"
And it really wasn't that there was not a lot of communication going on..for there was. It was just non-verbal communication... It was twenty-minutes later that the next verbal communication ensued.
For most of Max Evans' life he had believed that he could never be accepted by her. For most of the last five months he had believed they could never really be a couple. Even for the two months they'd been dating..he'd never really believed that their being a couple would work out. Only in the last three days had he really believed that it really MIGHT happen, that his wildest dreams would really come true and they would someday actually belong to each other. But there comes a time when you can suspend disbelief no longer…even if you are as big a pessimist as Max Evans..and he was almost there. But not quite…..
"Liz…are you sure…I mean..you still have a chance to back out…?"
She tried hard not to laugh.
"Sure Max…if I can back my way through this mattress. If you are doing this to tease me you are going to get some claw marks on your back…"
She felt her body part as he slowly entered her..felt him hesitate at the obstruction, afraid to be too forceful…afraid to cause her pain. She felt the thrust start slowly and lifted her pelvis to meet him, biting her lower lip in concentration, trying to control the spasms in her vagina as the tissue protested the unaccustomed stretching….feeling the warmth of him flowing in to her. The flashes came into her mind then as the connection formed, and she felt what he felt and he felt what she felt as their bodies moved together as if they had minds of their own.
She didn't mean to do it....and he didn't notice when it happened...but he STILL got the claw marks on his back, even without teasing her.....
Her pelvis seemed to burn with a liquid fire that raced through her body…not painful but…alive….alive as she had never been alive before. The climax came to them simultaneously and the fire became all consuming as there bodies locked together…their hearts pounding, her muscles contracting upon him as if to trap him forever inside of her….
- Liz and Max floated in the silver cloud…together.
In their minds they saw them floating..the other couple. They weren't really human, that was obvious…their eyes were just a little too big, the top of their skulls slightly larger than those of humans, their fingers just a little too long….and the skin was a pale silver. But in their own way…they were a handsome couple.
It was obvious that one was male and one was female….they were floating wearing no more clothes than Liz and Max. And as they touched…it was there as well. The iridescence in her skin…..wherever he touched her, was by now quite familiar. And it was obvious what they were starting to do. They made love with tenderness and beauty and the body of the male shown with the silvery iridescence. The passion was tender at first..then became heated..both beings intent on being as close as possible. The final act was unmistakable as both shuddered and the silvery iridescence faded uniformly from the two beings. As the iridescence faded, so did the racial memory…and the minds of Liz and Max drifted back to their bodies…..in Tonopah Nevada.
The iridescence was gone, but they saw each other in the dim light from around the window shade. Not that they needed eyes. They too were in about as close contact as it was possible for a man and woman to be. And they lay together, content….at least for another half hour or so…and happy.
They weren't really sure what that vision had been all about, but the sex had been……AWESOME, and this cuddling afterwards was wonderful. It would be a long and interesting night for the two of them, and they'd wonder….only as an afterthought…why they no longer saw the silvery iridescence. The correct answer, of course, was that they weren't looking in the right place….
Three hundred million iridescent sperm were fighting for entry to Liz Evans cervix. Most wouldn't make it. Some few million would. They would charge gleefully up her uterus, seeking her fallopian tubes. Only a few hundreds of thousands would find them. And even these would know only disappointment…looking in total futility for the egg that the birth control patch had denied them.
A few tens of thousands would spill out of her fallopian tubes, into her abdomen. Within three days they would be dead, and as the lymphocytes in her body scavenged the remnants, the lysosomes would break down the DNA in the mitochondria that had energized their flagella, and in doing so they would sever from that DNA the virus that had infected the first Antarean over 50,000 years previously, the virus that being had spread to his mate…to their offspring…the virus that had infected all the mates of all of their subsequent offspring….the symbiotic virus that had given the descendants of that first being such an evolutionary advantage.
Within Liz's abdomen it was not dark. There was a soft iridescent glow that would last until her lymphocytes were done scavenging the dead sperm and the mitochondria that powered their flagella.
The lymphocytes would carry those fragments with them then as they retreated back into her lymphatic system to follow the channels to the thoracic duct where they would be dumped into her bloodstream and distributed throughout her entire body.
The viruses were hardy…they would survive. Perhaps they could even find some new mitochondria to infect. After all, there was no difference between humans and Antareans at all…except for a harmless viral infection and the power it provided to the mitochondria.
But it would take awhile. And since he couldn't reach them himself, Max Evans would just have to live with those claw marks on his back.....
Last edited by greywolf on Fri Jan 12, 2007 8:20 pm, edited 2 times in total.
0100 Joe's Bar&Grill, Rachel Nevada
Capt Jim Hawthorne got back in the unmarked GSA leased car and headed back to Detachment 24. Yeah, he'd had a few drinks at the country western honky-tonk. But he really wasn't there for the booze, or even the food, although the t-bone had certainly been better than dining hall food. He was there mainly for the people.
The young Captain just desperately needed to get around some REAL people. Even drunk cowboys were better than the wacked-out researchers he was working with. And it wasn't that he didn't like research….hell, he had a PhD of his own in astrophysics from UC Berkeley, as well as a Bachelors in Aeronautical Engineering from the zoom school…, that is…the Air Force Academy. And maybe the reason he was so damn frustrated was because he was a zoomie…although he didn't think so. He'd probably been the least military cadet there.
He'd completed his four years at the academy and, because his vision kept him from being a pilot, had elected to go out as a support officer while the Air Force Institute of Technology at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base had processed his application for graduate study. And it was hardly like Berzerkeley, as the locals called it, was a very military place either.
But Det. 24? Damn. It was mad scientist city, with little if any concern for the rules everyone else lived by. Not about security, not about technology, not even about human experimentation. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and when it did he was afraid he's be at ground zero,…or at least he had been.
It had been a routine message in the daily bulletin, and chances were no one but Jim Hawthorne had even noticed it. He'd had only one year's experience in the real Air Force, and that as squadron section commander for a fighter squadron…a big name for the guy that does the administrative stuff and handles enlisted disciplinary matters for the REAL commander.
But in that year, he'd learned how military operations were supposed to run and how a military commander was supposed to act…unlike what seemed to have been the latest of decades of commanders at Det. 24 who had been totally intimidated by the senior scientists on the base, the senior civil service STS ranks who were the equivalent of general officers in their civil service rank. He'd watched the current commander be ignored, contradicted, demeaned, and defied by them…and like his many predecessors, he'd let them get away with it.
But the message had given him new hope…and a little trepidation, because he'd served that year as a Second Lieutenant under Slammer Randolph, and he was pretty sure that when the Slammer took command, there were going to be some monumental changes.
Jim knew it was going to happen, and suspected it wouldn't take long.
Sure, the super-scientists were going to do their best to passive-aggress the man, demean his lack of a graduate degree, and otherwise neutralize him so they could continue to do…well pretty much anything they wanted to, on the taxpayers dime. But Jim was pretty sure they'd never met anyone like the Slammer, and had no idea what they were going up against.
As he drove slowly down the dirt road toward Groom Lake, he smiled and chucked softly to himself. Those STS-2s and 3s had no idea what was about to hit them, despite their lofty degrees. He just hoped he wasn't in the frag pattern when the Slammer went off on them.
He'd be there in seven hours.
Capt Jim Hawthorne got back in the unmarked GSA leased car and headed back to Detachment 24. Yeah, he'd had a few drinks at the country western honky-tonk. But he really wasn't there for the booze, or even the food, although the t-bone had certainly been better than dining hall food. He was there mainly for the people.
The young Captain just desperately needed to get around some REAL people. Even drunk cowboys were better than the wacked-out researchers he was working with. And it wasn't that he didn't like research….hell, he had a PhD of his own in astrophysics from UC Berkeley, as well as a Bachelors in Aeronautical Engineering from the zoom school…, that is…the Air Force Academy. And maybe the reason he was so damn frustrated was because he was a zoomie…although he didn't think so. He'd probably been the least military cadet there.
He'd completed his four years at the academy and, because his vision kept him from being a pilot, had elected to go out as a support officer while the Air Force Institute of Technology at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base had processed his application for graduate study. And it was hardly like Berzerkeley, as the locals called it, was a very military place either.
But Det. 24? Damn. It was mad scientist city, with little if any concern for the rules everyone else lived by. Not about security, not about technology, not even about human experimentation. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and when it did he was afraid he's be at ground zero,…or at least he had been.
It had been a routine message in the daily bulletin, and chances were no one but Jim Hawthorne had even noticed it. He'd had only one year's experience in the real Air Force, and that as squadron section commander for a fighter squadron…a big name for the guy that does the administrative stuff and handles enlisted disciplinary matters for the REAL commander.
But in that year, he'd learned how military operations were supposed to run and how a military commander was supposed to act…unlike what seemed to have been the latest of decades of commanders at Det. 24 who had been totally intimidated by the senior scientists on the base, the senior civil service STS ranks who were the equivalent of general officers in their civil service rank. He'd watched the current commander be ignored, contradicted, demeaned, and defied by them…and like his many predecessors, he'd let them get away with it.
But the message had given him new hope…and a little trepidation, because he'd served that year as a Second Lieutenant under Slammer Randolph, and he was pretty sure that when the Slammer took command, there were going to be some monumental changes.
Jim knew it was going to happen, and suspected it wouldn't take long.
Sure, the super-scientists were going to do their best to passive-aggress the man, demean his lack of a graduate degree, and otherwise neutralize him so they could continue to do…well pretty much anything they wanted to, on the taxpayers dime. But Jim was pretty sure they'd never met anyone like the Slammer, and had no idea what they were going up against.
As he drove slowly down the dirt road toward Groom Lake, he smiled and chucked softly to himself. Those STS-2s and 3s had no idea what was about to hit them, despite their lofty degrees. He just hoped he wasn't in the frag pattern when the Slammer went off on them.
He'd be there in seven hours.
0700 McCarran International Airport, Las Vegas Nevada
The private terminal at McCarran international airport had a number of the white 737 aircraft with the red stripe, and where they went was about as secret as the fact that the local strippers had navels. Colonel Steve "Slammer" Randolph had handed off his bags, passed through security and boarded the plane without fanfare. He had expected none. Everyone dressed in civilian clothes fot the trip to the detachment, and from what the Vice had briefed him, they were pretty casual about that at the detachment too, one of the first things he planned to change.
The terminal and all the aircraft had impressed him…but not favorably. The prime civilian contractor for the site….and really, the ONLY contractor, since he'd checked and found that the subcontractors were wholly owned subsidiaries of the prime, charged an incredible amount for their services…more than enough to fund ten fighter wings. And a lot of it seemed redundant, basically the prime contractor charging not just for their own work, but to oversee the subs…who were really their own subsidiaries who they ought to be overseeing anyway. And that was just the start of the problem. Since everything was a cost-plus contract, that was a disincentive for economy…the more the cost, the more the profit. And what really irked Slammer, was that he was just a simple fighter pilot…not a finance officer. If he could see it, why couldn't they? But he already thought he'd sort of figured it out. The prime contractor hired people from the site, ex-military as well as civilian. It made sense, sort of, because they already had the security clearance, which admittedly was hard to get. But that also made it so that everyone who worked out there, everyone who should have been looking after the Air Force's interest. had an inherent conflict of interest. They knew, most of them, that they would someday go from their present jobs to working for that contractor. That being the case, nobody wanted to blow the whistle on someone they'd soon be asking for a job.
Slammer was beginning to worry about just what he'd gotten himself in to, and thinking the year couldn't pass quickly enough, when the 737 took off from McCarran and headed Northeast for the Nellis ranges and the area the fighter pilots at Nellis referred to as "the box."
7:00 AM The Silver Nugget Room, Tonopah Nevada
It had been a long night…something that had pleased them both, but Liz's shift was due to start at 8:30.
"Max…I've got to go shower…"
"Liz.., you have an hour and a half."
"But it takes me almost 45 minutes just to shampoo and dry my hair, Max."
"With my powers, I can do that for you in two minutes…..that's what it takes Izzy."
"Well then Mr. Evans, …it would appear that I have 43 minutes to kill….would you have any suggestions as to how I do that?"
"Let me see Mrs. Evans," Max said, as he pulled her even closer. "I'm sure we can think of something…"
At 8:29 and 59 seconds Liz hurried in to the restaurant. Betty Ann just smiled, she was already helping Anna, and had not honestly expected to see "Beth" for another thirty minutes or so. As Liz walked past her to get her order pad Betty smiled.
"Did he try the old 'This is a desert, dear. We are supposed to shower together to conserve water,' ploy on you?" she laughed. "That never works…."
As Betty Ann saw the expression on Liz's face and the sudden blushing she chuckled to herself, 'Well, ALMOST never…'
The private terminal at McCarran international airport had a number of the white 737 aircraft with the red stripe, and where they went was about as secret as the fact that the local strippers had navels. Colonel Steve "Slammer" Randolph had handed off his bags, passed through security and boarded the plane without fanfare. He had expected none. Everyone dressed in civilian clothes fot the trip to the detachment, and from what the Vice had briefed him, they were pretty casual about that at the detachment too, one of the first things he planned to change.
The terminal and all the aircraft had impressed him…but not favorably. The prime civilian contractor for the site….and really, the ONLY contractor, since he'd checked and found that the subcontractors were wholly owned subsidiaries of the prime, charged an incredible amount for their services…more than enough to fund ten fighter wings. And a lot of it seemed redundant, basically the prime contractor charging not just for their own work, but to oversee the subs…who were really their own subsidiaries who they ought to be overseeing anyway. And that was just the start of the problem. Since everything was a cost-plus contract, that was a disincentive for economy…the more the cost, the more the profit. And what really irked Slammer, was that he was just a simple fighter pilot…not a finance officer. If he could see it, why couldn't they? But he already thought he'd sort of figured it out. The prime contractor hired people from the site, ex-military as well as civilian. It made sense, sort of, because they already had the security clearance, which admittedly was hard to get. But that also made it so that everyone who worked out there, everyone who should have been looking after the Air Force's interest. had an inherent conflict of interest. They knew, most of them, that they would someday go from their present jobs to working for that contractor. That being the case, nobody wanted to blow the whistle on someone they'd soon be asking for a job.
Slammer was beginning to worry about just what he'd gotten himself in to, and thinking the year couldn't pass quickly enough, when the 737 took off from McCarran and headed Northeast for the Nellis ranges and the area the fighter pilots at Nellis referred to as "the box."
7:00 AM The Silver Nugget Room, Tonopah Nevada
It had been a long night…something that had pleased them both, but Liz's shift was due to start at 8:30.
"Max…I've got to go shower…"
"Liz.., you have an hour and a half."
"But it takes me almost 45 minutes just to shampoo and dry my hair, Max."
"With my powers, I can do that for you in two minutes…..that's what it takes Izzy."
"Well then Mr. Evans, …it would appear that I have 43 minutes to kill….would you have any suggestions as to how I do that?"
"Let me see Mrs. Evans," Max said, as he pulled her even closer. "I'm sure we can think of something…"
At 8:29 and 59 seconds Liz hurried in to the restaurant. Betty Ann just smiled, she was already helping Anna, and had not honestly expected to see "Beth" for another thirty minutes or so. As Liz walked past her to get her order pad Betty smiled.
"Did he try the old 'This is a desert, dear. We are supposed to shower together to conserve water,' ploy on you?" she laughed. "That never works…."
As Betty Ann saw the expression on Liz's face and the sudden blushing she chuckled to herself, 'Well, ALMOST never…'