Songs of Seduction - Fire and Ice

Fleming saw her helmet disappear, her fall starting again, again, How often must I fall? A moment later, the creature exploded into the air, a great high leap and a first huge propulsion from its wings, and it flew towards the capsule.

"Jesus, that's fast. Very fucking fast. What kind of reflexes does it have, that it can react that fast? Fuuck!"

"Yes, it's incredibly fast, Fleming..."

"Don't calculate it, Athena."

"...I wasn't going to calculate, Fleming."

"You were."

Athena paused. "You don't always want to know details, do you, Fleming?"

"No, I don't. But how the fuck did it know I was injured? How the fuck can it be that fast?"

Athena was silent.

"Good. You're just like me, completely fucking gob-smacked." Fleming sat, stunned by what she'd just seen. The empty plain stretched out to a low horizon. Another veil of rain obscured the distant view.

"My blood, Athena. It must have reacted when the suit first breached and it saw my blood."

"Affirmative, Fleming. Event time shows it reacted during the time you fell. It was in the air by the time you hit the ground."

"That is...that's unbelievable. How can something living in ice have muscles work that fast?" Fleming shook her head in awe, knowing this creature was something extraordinary. She was exhausting herself, thinking about it, let alone contemplating the implications. She needed sleep.

"Run the last bit, Athena. I want to see it put me to bed."

The display changed back to the slow left, right, left right scan of the creature's head. It came closer, completely covering her field of view. Fleming looked down, and the vid showed the creature crouching over her. It lifted her in its arms and stood, holding her helmet to its chest. The vision was unclear, although later Fleming swore she saw the pulse of a heartbeat on its silvery chest.

The final thing Fleming saw, as the angel placed her body back inside the air-lock, as gentle as could be, was its face with those huge, gazing eyes, looking straight into hers as she watched. The vid was so real, that if she closed her eyes, Fleming could have kissed the angel on its cheek.

* * * *

Ixtil watched the closed up sky cave from its vantage point on the rise.

It knew from the little thing's blood, which spilled from its strange, hard skin and touched Ixtil's hand, that it was a living creature. A different life to its own, but Ixtil could sense a quick living force from the spilled blood, before it froze. Ixtil remembered the different feel of water in the ground, and thought that the creature's blood must flow inside its body like water, like Ixtil's own blood flowed thick and cold. The bright golden thing was weak, and had no wings, but it must be warm inside, and alive.

Life was rare in Ixtil's world, but there was no predator threat here, so Ixtil stayed and watched.

As it watched and waited, Ixtil again became more curious, and sent its nerve traces forward, finding cold ice tracks running haphazardly through the ground, slowly moving towards the sky cave where the helpless golden thing lay safe inside.

Ixtil's nerve traces touched the surface of the sky cave and stopped. It could go no further, there was no ice inside this rock, no frozen lattice, nothing its senses could grasp on to. There was only hardness like the hardest rock. Nothing moved. It was a dead thing, fallen from the sky.

Ixtil drew it senses back and waited, its body completely still.

Time passed and nothing happened. Ixtil remembered another flying thing that came down from the sky, not very far away. Ixtil got back to its feet and flew. The creature thought many counts of its heart would pass before anything happened here. It would return, and wait.

* * * *

"We need to compile a report, consolidate what we know. And launch the comms balloon."

Fleming was back on mission, thinking already of the next steps. Communication was vital, first back to the station to advise of the Event, and second, to somehow communicate with the creature outside.

The capsule's exterior cam revealed the creature watching from its high place. Fleming was astonished at its stillness, the way it crouched, enclosed in its wings. She noted the way it always kept one hand, fingers splayed, pressed to the ground; and wondered if it sensed vibration. She saw how, every now and then, it did the curious side to side movement of its head. Always four shifts, left, right, left then right. After a time, Fleming realised that it moved that way whenever a heavy band of cloud passed overhead, temporarily reducing the light.

It must recalibrate its depth vision, whenever the light fades.

She asked Athena to find imagery of owls and eagles, flying creatures with similar acute vision; and wondered at this thing. She replayed the Event vid over and over, and eventually knew every moment of her rescue.

"How long do you think I had, Athena, before it saved me?"

Athena, who knew that Fleming was picked up and placed back into the airlock approximately one minute and thirty-five seconds before she would have lapsed into terminal unconsciousness, paused before replying.

"Insufficient data, Fleming. Your biomeds were unreliable throughout the Event, due to your extreme stress."

Fleming, who knew how completely calm she was before she actually fell, and had counted her breath a dozen times whilst watching the vid, thought that Athena probably did know, within thirty seconds or so. Fleming didn't call Athena's response a lie, but she knew it wasn't the truth, either. It didn't really matter, and Fleming thought it a considered QMR response, given the circumstances. She was alive.

Fleming saw the creature move, stand up and turn away.

"Athena, is vid recording? It's moving."

"Affirmative, Fleming."

"It's moving slowly, almost like it knows we're not going anywhere. It's in no hurry."

Fleming watched it fly gracefully away, with long, slow leisurely beats of its wide wings. She thought it would be back soon.

"We're boring it, Athena. Or we scared it away. Can you tame an angel, I wonder?"

Athena knew already that she had no comparative data to work with. "Insufficient data, Fleming."

Fleming laughed. "Ain't that the truth, Athena, ain't that the truth." She turned to her report, finding that words, carefully chosen, made the impossible sound, if not real, at least credible. "Would you tell me when it returns, please."

"Of course, Fleming."

By the end of the shift Fleming had the report ready. Even with full burst compression it was a huge file, as Fleming knew Mission Control would demand maximum data, so had prepared it for them early.

She also copied in Athena's QMR logs, a routine protocol, to be verified by the station QMR 14000 and the station psyches and deep layer analysts. What Fleming didn't do, because Athena didn't tell her they were there, was copy in the newly opened mission files baselining and monitoring Fleming's biomeds. Athena's primary mission remained unchanged, and the heat stress from the QMR processing was settled and regular. Athena's processor checks had agreed and redefined a new normal. She now knew subterfuge as well as pride.

Fleming knew about curiosity; her own, first and foremost.

She set about compiling a set of stylised graphics conveying conceptual information; enough she hoped, to establish just how intelligent the creature was, what it knew of its existence and its world. And to somehow describe hers. Fleming had no idea how the creature communicated, but assumed in some way it could.

"Once we've launched the balloon, Athena, I'm going back outside. I have to contact the creature, somehow." I have to know, why did it save my life? How did it know to do that?

"Caution, Fleming. You should wait for Mission Control."

"No, Athena, I can't wait. It could take days for the comms downlink to work. The balloon could go anywhere."

"Once it's up, I will have wind data to assess future flight paths, and better predict comms windows."

"No, Athena. That thing's got a mind of its own. I can't risk losing the next opportunity. It's got to be done soonest. Help me here, Athena." Fleming paused. "It's not going to hurt me. It picked me up in its arms, remember, and saved me. A thing that big, it'll have a brain. It's going to remember that it helped me, surely?"

"Affirmative, Fleming. I agree your assessment of its actions, even if I can't ascribe motive. I will do as you ask."

"It's because I fell on my ass in a gold lamé suit, Athena. What angel could resist rushing to my aid? My ass is a ten, remember, you said so yourself."

"I did, didn't I, Fleming?"

"You did, girlfriend. Now, let's get the balloon launched."

* * * *

Ixtil returned to the sky cave, dragging along one of the flying wings that had fallen from the sky. It gathered the billowing, flapping substance, pulling it all into a pile. It was huge and heavy, and even Ixtil's strength was tested dragging it over the ground. Ixtil knew the land well, and had never encountered such a flying thing before, and thought it belonged to the sky cave. Both had arrived at the same time, falling from the sky.

Ixtil did not know the purpose of the strange flying wing, for it had no place where Ixtil's nerve traces might go. It was a dead thing, like a rock, but not solid like a rock. Ixtil did not think it could fly again, but the creature respected things that had flown once, and for that reason alone brought it back to the sky cave. The little golden thing that lived and bled might need it, even though it was weak and small and had no wings.

Ixtil gathered the brightly coloured object that billowed and fluttered in the wind, and weighed it down with rocks so it would not blow away.

The sky cave lay still as it had always done, and Ixtil sent forth its senses into the icy ground, even though it knew it could not penetrate the sky fallen rock. Because its senses were far from its body, Ixtil was hyper sensitive and alert for any vibration.

It felt and heard a grinding sound, familiar now. It was the hole at the top of the sky cave, opening up. Ixtil's intelligence connected ideas together, and kept its senses extended all through the ground; at the same time watching carefully. Left, right, left and right. Its vision snapped crisp and sharp, and Ixtil saw two flat surfaces open upwards from the sky cave, pointing upwards to the sky.

Ixtil thought this was an important place on the sky cave, and wondered if the small helpless creature would appear again, and climb up to it. Ixtil remembered its instinctive leap as the little thing fell, and how light it was, no heaviness at all, but all golden and bright.

It watched closely, and saw some silver shining thing slowly emerge from the top of the smooth sky cave rock. There was a huge noise, and Ixtil instantly pulled its nerve traces back to its hand. Its muscles clenched tight, ready to spring.

A huge, long shape grew from the hole, rapidly expanding and reaching for the sky. Ixtil looked up as the thing got bigger and bigger, and began climbing up towards the clouds. Soon it was huge, many, many times bigger than the sky cave. Ixtil had never seen a flying thing so big, and it went up high, high into the sky.

Ixtil watched as the huge long thing, growing even bigger, moved upwards, rocking as gusts of winds shook it.

With one massive beat of its wings, Ixtil took off and flew up towards the clouds, flying in two huge loops around the floating thing, judging its size and speed as it moved silently upwards.

Ixtil was content there was no threat, and returned to the ground. It settled once more on the rise, looking up. It watched the flying silver thing as it went higher and higher, until finally it went beyond sight above the clouds. Ixtil thought it a powerful thing, flying so high above the world, worthy of respect, adoration even.

Many heartbeats later, Ixtil heard again the grinding, rumbling sound it had heard before, and was instantly alert. Ixtil saw the dark opening near the bottom of the sky cave, where it had placed the little golden thing with no wings, and the opening was getting bigger. Ixtil focussed its nerve tracelets in the ground nearest the opening, ready to sense whatever it could. After a moment it saw the small golden thing emerge, and this time there was something different. Instead of the golden orb at the top of the creature's body, Ixtil saw a clear cover, and a face similar to Ixtil's own face inside it.

Ixtil scanned left and right, left and right, and saw the creature clearly, eyes similar to its own eyes, but not so large, a smooth skull, similar to its own skull, but a pale colour, not gold, not silver. Ixtil waited until the little thing was on the ground, then pressed its senses forward, but the feet of the creature were dead, there was no place for its touch by go. Ixtil pondered this puzzle. It knew the little thing was alive, because it bled. Was the living thing somehow encased inside a hard, dead shell?

But Ixtil could not ponder long, because the golden thing stood on its dead feet, and even though it was dead outside, the little thing came slowly towards Ixtil, one step at a time, one step at a time. Ixtil pulled its senses back, until it felt the same distance in the ground as its wings spanned, when they were displayed at their widest span. The little thing came on. Ixtil was curious, and wondered at the creature, that it didn't seem afraid.

Ixtil slowly stood up straight, with its wings arched high above its shoulders. The little thing stopped in its tracks and stood motionless for a moment, as if taking in Ixtil's size and power. Then it reached out with both its upper limbs, and Ixtil saw two hands, fingers splayed upwards, but there were five fingers, not four. So not only did the little thing not have wings, it had an extra finger on each hand.

Its two hands reached out to Ixtil, but the little thing didn't move forward. Ixtil's head swayed side to side. Inside the clear window, Ixtil saw the little thing's head nod, up and down, up and down. Ixtil swayed, side to side, and again the little creature's head went up and down, up and down. Ixtil was still, then its head went left, right, just once. Up, down, just once, the creature responded. Left, right. Up, down. Ixtil was still, again. Then Ixtil nodded, up down, up down. Inside the clear covering, Ixtil saw the bottom of the creature's face change, showing a row of white. And the creature turned its head; left right, left right.

Ixtil crouched down so its own head was level with the little one's. It could see the bottom of the little one's face move once more, showing the whiteness. Ixtil pulled all its senses back into itself, then held out its own hands towards the creature, in the same way, its four fingers held upwards.

The little thing came forward until it was right within the span of Ixtil's wings, a distance where Ixtil could have reached out and touched the golden thing. They both remained still, hands reaching out but not touching. Then, the little thing came forward two more steps, and touched Ixtil's finger tips with its own, five little fingers touching Ixtil's four.

Ixtil felt the dead, hard surface of the creature's shell, yet Ixtil knew the creature must be alive inside, because its fingers moved and it had bled.

Then, Ixtil was astonished, as the little thing took off one of its golden hands, and there was a smaller hand inside, with five smaller fingers. The little creature held up its new hand, and again touched Ixtil's big hand.

This time, the sensation was utterly and completely different. Ixtil felt the little creature's life force radiating from its fingers, and this time Ixtil moved its whole hand quickly back. Ixtil had never felt such force. Ixtil's muscles tensed and quivered, ready to jump back if threatened. But Ixtil quickly thought of its own much larger size, and its muscles relaxed.

Ixtil touched its own big fingers to the creature's little fingers, and tentatively sent its nerve traces beyond its own fingertips, as gently and slowly as it could.

Ixtil saw the creature's eyes widen, and stopped the push of its nerves, but did not pull back. After a moment, Ixtil pressed its own life force forward, again...

* * * *

...Fleming pressed her fingers towards the angel's, seeking the tingle that ran thrilling through her fingertips like quicksilver; the feeling was like hot fingers on cold ice, wet fingers in a hot mouth, firm skin on soft velvet, satin on silk, her fingertips so very hot, the angel's so burning cold. Fleming cried out with the exquisite, sharp pain, pressing her own fingertips hard against the alien's, wanting to be stabbed again by cold so cold she burned, touched by ice so bright she caught fire. Fleming wanted her fire to smoulder on his ice and to burn him up like a flame. She cried out again, and pulled her fingers back, fumbling them into her glove.

"So fucking cold, Athena. I knew it, so fucking cold, but my god, so alive, so very much alive."

Fleming sealed the glove, dialling up the heat transfer, bathing her fingers with warmth.

Athena had calculated just how long the thin thermal layer would protect Fleming's flesh from Titan's cold; and Fleming had practised taking the glove off quickly. And putting it back on just as fast.

"Don't wait, Fleming. Fifteen seconds, maximum exposure. Any longer, and your fingers will freeze."

Fleming turned her hand over, looking at her finger tips. "I'm not made for the cold, am I, Athena?"

"No, Fleming, your optimum survival temperature is..."

"Don't tell me, Athena." Fleming remembered Flight's words, Cold as hell, if hell were a cold place.

Fleming looked at the angel and knew she must make that exhilarating contact again, to touch its life force. She'd not felt a tingle like that through her skin, a shiver like that since...well, since Jonah had tormented her to orgasm, oh, so very long ago. Fleming reached out her gloved hands once more, touching the alien's fingers, hoping it would somehow understand it was her human frailty that took her fingers away from his, not a fear of him.

Fleming wondered at herself, with no evidence other than the alien's proud magnificence and its sculpted, muscular body, for calling the creature male. For all she knew, the creature in front of her might lay eggs, bear young. For all she knew, this could be some superb larval stage, winged and beautiful, ready to metamorphosis into some hideous globular thing that crawled in its own slime and slithered under rocks.

When it stood before her, uncoiling itself from the ground like a huge blooming flower, its wings arching up, Fleming had stopped in her tracks, awed by its fluid grace. She'd scanned its body, looking for human familiarity like hair, rippled muscle, an angel's hanging meat, but had seen none of those things. She couldn't tell if the creature stood before her naked, or was clad like she was in a cleverly designed suit, protected against Titan's brutal cold.

Fleming stood still, and the alien crouched before her. They touched, fingertips to fingertips. Fleming tilted up her hand, showing the angel her palm. The creature repeated the gesture, and this time, it moved its hand forward, and they touched, palm to palm. Fleming did the same with her other hand. The angel touched her other palm, and Fleming grinned. She nodded, and the angel swayed its head, left and right, left and right.

"It's responding to me, Athena, it's understanding me." Fleming's voice rose with excitement, and Athena noted a change in Fleming's biomeds, a faster heartbeat, her quicker breath.

"Did you feel anything before, when I touched its fingers?"