The Antarcticans (24 page)

He walked along the walls of the chamber and ran his hand over their brilliance. Images of Addie appeared on the surface. He showed Noila a brief tour of his life, his family, his sojourn to Antarctica. The first movie was of Addie as a smaller version of himself, but with his family, building a structure from ancient timber. He looked so happy and purposeful, playing with his siblings, learning from his parents. He was bold and intelligent, just younger than he was now. Noila knew he must not have been in Antarctica because of all the trees in the images, and no one seemed stressed or concerned. As they moved to the next movie, Noila found herself struggling to pull her eyes away from the first one. Addie forced her hand and guided her body so she could see more. In this next scene, she saw Addie as a young adult running through a series of tunnels with an extremely beautiful Antarctican. They frolicked like young lovers through the ice before boarding a small boat and sailing to a different part of the continent. They hunted and slept under a sky so filled with stars it looked like it might catch fire. There was an intoxicating state to everything Noila saw, pulling at her, capturing her attention, allowing her to understand what might be lost if this world were to perish. She saw herself in each of the loves encountered, homes left, and families being created with births and ending with deaths. The time scale was larger; the species so different in their customs and rituals, the language spoken. She couldn’t understand it, but the feeling, the emotion, the raw life in each of the movies was intense and real. She smiled at the joys, and tears formed at the tragedies. When they reached the point in the wall where they had started, Addie put his arm around her and led her through the doors through which they had entered. The transport disk in the antechamber was slowly flashing green, waiting for them to come aboard.

Gavin poked around Joshua’s room, looking for something to eat. Two more patients had been brought into the room and were lying on the floor next to Joshua’s bed. There wasn’t a food replicator in the room, so he wandered into the hallway and looked for a one. Over the past few hours, the atmosphere on the
Dragon
had calmed down considerably. The ship was now fully upright; the water that had flooded the lower decks had been drained; and most of the alarms and flashing lights had been switched off. People were leaving the medical unit now, their wounds treated. The staff seemed to be less frantic as they moved about their duties. Dr. Cristofari exited one of the patient rooms and bumped into Gavin.

“I’m sorry, sir.” She looked up at his face and realized it was Gavin. “Mr. Pennings, how is Joshua doing? I haven’t been able to check in on him since the disaster.”

“He’s fine. I’m just looking for some food.”

She pointed to a door near the waiting room. “I think it’s working, but I haven’t tried it since we went into emergency procedures. Here, I’ll come with you. I could use some coffee.” She turned the corner into the small kitchen and ordered a coffee from the replicator. She pulled it out and inhaled the aroma as it touched her tongue. “It’s working. Mmmm, that’s good. You’re up.” She stepped out of the way.

Gavin punched a few buttons on the replicator. “How bad is the situation on the ship?” he asked.

“The casualties and injuries were pretty severe. This medical unit is taking in the overflow—we’re normally just a research unit. The main emergency medical unit is on Deck Two. But it was flooded, and apparently when they drained the water, there were more patients than they could handle.”

“Let me know if anyone needs a pastor. You know, death counseling, whatever.” He steepled his fingers.

“I’ll remember that, but as you can imagine, we don’t get a lot of requests for Southern Christian pastors.” Dr. Cristofari laughed and nudged him.

Gavin laughed along with her. He took his sandwich out of the replicator and leaned against the counter. “So what’s the end game?”

“For Joshua?”

“Well, yes, I want to know that, but that wasn’t what I was asking. I mean for you, for the ship, for Lucifer—what’s all this heading toward?”

“As in a philosophical end point?”

“Could be that. In my case, for instance, everything I do is for the glory of God and guided by the Bible. I do everything for God’s sake, in anticipation of meeting him someday.”

“I’m not religious or spiritual,” Dr. Cristofari said with a shrug. “Those questions don’t appeal to me. I see problems now that I want to figure out, people in need that I want to help. What I do isn’t so ethereal. I deal in what’s known.”

“So do I. I know where I’m going when I die.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I don’t have that certainty.”

“You see?” he started.

She put her hand up to stop him. “I don’t want certainty. I see life coming at me from a million different directions, and that’s okay. It’s what makes me feel alive.” She cocked her left eyebrow. “You always this serious?” She glanced at her watch. “I don’t mean to be rude. I’m enjoying this little escape, but I have to go. Meet you back here the same time tomorrow?”

“Deal,” Gavin said, then headed back to Joshua’s room.

The space on the floor where Joshua had been was empty. The patient lying on the bed, wrapped in a medical suit, was much smaller than Joshua; the other two were larger than him. Gavin’s pulse pounded in his temple. He peered into the hallway to see if Dr. Cristofari was still around. When he didn’t see her, he pushed the panic button on the panel next to the door. The robotic arms appeared from the ceiling, and the panel lit up. The medical assistant arrived and looked around. “What’s the problem? I told you not to touch anything.” She sounded annoyed.

“Where’s my son?”

She pointed up. “Weekly cleaning and redressing. We change him into a new suit, check his body for any issues. He’s fine. He’ll be back in about an hour. The ship is functionally online again, so there’s no need for you to stay here.”

Barely satisfied, Gavin headed to his quarters. When he opened the door, the scent of roses coated the room. A small red ember was hovering near the bed. A sultry voice asked for the lights to rise.

“Small wonder we all made it through the storm.” Arkita, Lucifer’s songstress, was sitting at the edge of the bed. Her nine-inch-tall patent-leather platform shoes buoyed her long, toned, milky-white legs, which were crossed and bobbing. “I know, you’re wondering what in the world I’m doing here. Well, Mr. Gavin, let’s just say, from what people are saying, you need a friend.” She wrapped her bright-red lips around the electronic vaporizer and inhaled. Her thinly veiled breasts rose with the act.

“You should leave.” He was staring at her legs, her perfectly curved calves flowing up to strong, toned thighs. The silk robe she was wearing covered the bare minimum.

“But who will keep you warm if I go?” She stood up, walked over to him, dipped her finger into his collar, and ran it along his neck.

“You know I’m married.”

Arkita glanced around her. “I don’t see your wife.”

“Damn it, stop this. You’re making a difficult situation even worse. What I could use is some help with my son.”

“Pastor, I bet there’s a naughty side to you, a dancing devil, hoping an anonymous situation, where no one will ever know, comes your way.” She was smiling widely, the nicotine vapor lingering around her lips.

Gavin fidgeted in his pockets, his face turning red. Arkita’s smooth young finger on his neck was electrifying. He stood frozen, nervously making two awkward glances at the door behind him. “I’m married” was all he could manage to get out.

Arkita ran her hand down his back, making circles with her finger, close to his belt. “If you really want me to go, I will, but I’d like to have a drink with you.” She reached behind him and opened a decanter of Scotch then poured it into two crystal-cut glasses, already primed with ice. “I’ve got your favorite: Glenlivet 21.” She picked up the double and swirled it around in front of his nose, the ice clinking in the glass. The room felt smaller to Gavin; the red-striped walls and dark wood furniture was pressing against him, making his breaths labored against the pressure.

Arkita turned on some light jazz music, and when he took the drink from her, she picked up her own, placed the vaporizer between her fingers, and nuzzled herself in front of him. “Dance?”

Gavin’s head was swirling. He felt like an adolescent. The prettiest girl at school had asked to dance. He reached around and lightly placed his hand on her back. Her body was full and firm, her dance moves exact. She was leading him through the steps, the music surrounding them, working its way into their senses and minds. The world of eternal possibilities drifted in; he was fifteen again, all his years ahead of him. The music was new to him, and Arkita held him tight. His room on board the
Dragon
had assumed a sensual, moody atmosphere. She spun around, and his hand circled her waist, just below her breasts. She pulled away from his orbit and picked up a blue-velvet case from the table. “A gift for you.” She held it out to him.

The velvet was worn, certainly passed between many hands and generations. The corners, capped with silkwood, were scuffed, a few of them slightly cracked.

“Open it.” She blew a puff of vapor in his face. It smelled of sweet cherries and pomegranates.

The bronze latch popped, and the case opened to reveal a set of mah-jongg tiles, with four spacers for each of the players to set them in. Gavin’s grandmother, who had died when he was a senior in high school, had this game in her parlor. He had helped clean out her house before it went up for sale. He came across this game and had pitched it in the trash, because neither he nor his cousins could figure out what the rules were. He looked down at the tiles and touched their smooth cold surface; these weren’t the sticky warm feel of industrial plastic.

“They’re pure ivory, reclaimed of course,” Arkita said with a giggle.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“I heard you liked games, something for us to do when we aren’t working.” She offered him a wide smile; a red dot of lipstick marred her otherwise perfect teeth. Her breath was sweet; she moved in closer to Gavin and inhaled through her nose, like one would lord over a turkey dinner at Thanksgiving, enjoying its savory aroma.

“
We
?”

“Everyone’s so busy on the ship. We seem to have more time on our hands than the others.”

“My wife is coming back, and my son needs me near him. I don’t have any free time.” He took a half step to the side of her. “Did Lucifer send you?”

“Ha, no. He would kill me if he knew I was in here with you. It’s a big no-no.” She wagged her finger, the cherry-red nail flagging back and forth like a metronome.

Gavin set the blue-velvet game set on the credenza next to the door.

“Well, I know what happens next,” Arkita said.

He flipped the lid of the box closed and clasped the bronze latch. “And what happens next?” he asked.

“You leave the ship and go to Antarctica to be with Noila. And everyone plays mah-jongg there. I call it their national pastime.” She moved in closer and kissed his neck.

His voluntary muscles turned to steel; an involuntary one stiffened and rose.

She drew her tongue out and licked the bottom of his ear, dragging it over his neck and making small circles of saliva on his jugular. She pulled her teeth across his skin—those white, perfectly sized, designer teeth. Gavin’s head fell back just a touch as his mind fell into the freedom of his desire.

“I, ugh…” He gasped as she pulled the buttons on his shirt open. She rubbed his shoulders and neck, kneading away at the knotted, stressed muscles. She pulled his shirt down over his arms, exposing his smooth, fit torso. An adult life of controlled eating and vigorous walking had kept him trim.

“Such a man.” Arkita’s arm casually rested against his erection as she undid the last button on his plaid shirt, exposing a tuft of hair swirling below his navel.

He reached for his Scotch, threw his head back, emptied the glass, and gave himself to her. There was neither a time nor a space in the next hour when Gavin would have recognized himself. The carnal urges of Arkita merged with his desires, long buried under layers of belief and convention and not contemplated in decades. Her nails tore at his back while his tongue explored her intimately. When Arkita had activated the cameras in the room to record the incident, Gavin hadn’t noticed the soft buzzing in the ceiling over the bed.

The transport lift took Noila and Addie farther into the miles-deep ice. The tunnel that wrapped around them featured more intricate carvings of Antarctican scenes. It looked like the inside of an ancient Native American or Egyptian building. Lights pulsed behind each of the carvings in the ceiling, illuminating the frosty enclosure and creating a three-dimensional effect for the artwork. Holding on to Addie for balance, Noila stared up and around as if she were observing the night sky for the first time. Addie’s pride swelled as he pointed out scenes and ancestors to her and explained the process by which the tunnels were formed.

“How far do these tunnels go?” Noila asked.