30 June 2000
Down pour on my soul
Splashing in the ocean, I'm loosing control
Dark sky all around,
Can't feel my feet touching the ground.
Jars of Clay: Flood
AC 190
One more transport and she would be home.
No, not home.
Hell, she would be in hell.
Her pacifist father would see to that.
The thin nine-year-old girl looked out the docking bay window of the L2 colony through pain filled black eyes and waited for the inevitable. Red lights flashed and heavy gear groaned as the docking clamps released emitting a white breath of steam into the cold uncaring outer space. Blair closed her burning eyes and ran her tongue over unbrushed teeth as the transport pulled away from the L2 port.
As it pulled away from her.
Something with the consistency of cough surip slid over Blair's soul and forced her eyes open to watch.
Watch the gray behemoth of a ship move away from her.
Watch the verdeaze engines ignite.
Watch the moment in which her life would change forever.
"So what are you going to do now little girl?"
Blair whirled around sharply causing her back pack, which was hung over one shoulder, to smacked the glass with a hallow thunk.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Blair's voice trembled only a fraction as she questioned the man before her. He was the embodiment of everything she had ever imagined the word ugliness truly meant. His nose was long and pointy, and eyes cold as they peered out from under a bowl of metal gray hair while work worn hands slid into pockets of his white lab coat.
"I want nothing. As to who I am, I am a friend of Instructor H. He has told me quite a lot about you."
"You told me what you are, not who you are." The words where as solid as steal and dictated by the girl's innate will to fight.
A smile quirked the scientists thin lips. His colleague had been right; she was as intelligent as she was fiery. "I am Professor G, and I believe that we can help each other."
"How?" Blair stood her ground as a voice deep within her brain screamed and pleaded with her to get as far away from this man as she could.
"I am in need of a pilot; you need a home"
"I'm not a pilot." The Winner child paused, expression hardening, before she softly continued, "but I can learn."
"Precisely, my dear. Precisely." The ugly man's voice echoed in her ears as a dark numbness pulsed to life, extended fine barbed tendrils, and anchored itself in girl's much too old soul.
Blair pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed deeply as a cool wind playfully straightened and released frizzy curls for nothing more than the sheer satisfaction of watching the hair spring back into place. Bandaged fingers reached out and entered a command into the laptop sitting next to her on the large metal vent. In response to the new code, lightening streaked across the sky filling the cool air with a violent base rumble.
"Last warning boys and girls," she murmured to the busy colony below her. From her vantage point on the flat roof of the sweeper compound, Blair watched specks of light blossom to life as heavy shadows crept across roads and buildings.
This was heaven.
An old access door behind her groaned painfully as it swung open, shifting the direction of the ex-gundam pilot's thoughts. Blair could count, on one hand, the people who might possess pictures of her. The momento from her near death experience did nothing but single one person out in particular.
Howard.
As a set of footsteps neared, the curly haired woman typed in another command, setting the storm program to random.
"With this much lightening and surrounding yourself with this much metal one might think I just walked in on a suicide attempt," a casual voice behind her back jokedd.
Blair let her legs slide down and cross Indian style as she let her mask fall into place and a smile pull up the corners of her lips.
"Could be. My id's been trying to off me for years," she called out coyly to the approaching man, mind racing to put a face to the voice, neck refusing to turn towards him.
Duo smiled broadly as he rounded the raised vent, eyes lit with something a kin to playfulness only darker. "What, you mean mine's not the only one?"
"Guess not," she replied heartbeat catching as he moved to stand in front of her.
Duo Maxwell.
"I'm sorry," the humor was still in his voice, but the smile in his eyes faltered as if he sensed the brief mental skip within Blair.
"You know what they say, misery loves company." Brown eyes met blue; one soul spoke to the other and the air of merriment quickly dissipated.
"Thanks for saving my ass," the ex-gundam pilot murmured as her eyes fell from his intense gaze. Duo shrugged nonchalantly and raised a hand to rest upon hers.
"Hey, no problem. How you feeling?"
Blair let out a dry half laugh from her lips. "Alright," she replied quietly.
Liar.
"So where's Howard?" her voice was low yet neutral as her eyes found their way back up to his.
Duo visibly started and dropped his hand away from hers, eyebrows drawing tightly together. "How'd you...?"
"Lucky guess."
The door creaked open again and ever-alert violet eyes flicked up. Duo smiled sadly and nodded with the barest of movements.
"Perfect timing."
Blair studied the man before her intently, utilizing her first chance to see him in good light to its fullest. She watched the play of muscles under pale skin as he raised his arms and crossed them. She watched the control in his movements as he stepped away form her as his strange violet eyes focused on the owner of the footsteps nearing them.
Most guys she had met weren't half as attractive as he.
Nor were they as nice.
Stop it. Nice guys don't put up with chicks like you.
"Took you long enough to find me. I'm disappointed Howard," she called to the approaching figure, eyes moving to fix on the faux horizon, not bothering to spare him a glance.
"I'm not Howard, Blair," a gentle tenor voice slid though the electrified air.
The woman froze, an almost tangible stillness filling her being as a spider web of lightening wove its way across oil painted clouds.
Erin Johnson
Please send comments to: johnsoel@purdue.edu