#992 words

When he opened them again, the angel sleepily looked at him, eyes opening and closing like a trusty cats.

“Raphael, you’re still here,” the smirk spreading on his face got wider when she did shudder at her name, if only slightly.

“Mmmhmh… can’t very well walk out of your chambers. I do believe I am in hell,” she laid her hand flat on his chest. He might have considered it a grope, but they only formed a rest for her chin, round eys looking up to him. Petting her looked more like an option with every second.

“You seem quite content where you are, anyway,” he said because she did. And still had not moved an inch away.

She shook her head, smile and blush spreading on her face: “I did very much enjoy myself,” she wriggled on top of him and shrugged: “Admittedly, still very pleasant. You’re warm and solid and entirely too nice under my hands.”

“Don’t tell me your, ah, ‘universe’, you said? Has no one to make you ‘enjoy yourself’. If that kind of thing is a general problem, I’ll gladly be of service”

With a snort, she answered: “Are you asking me… if there’s a general shortage of people to make other ones ‘enjoy themselves? I… I am sad to disappoint, but… no. That’s just me. I think? And just because… mh…” She looked at him, considering, “… I don’t have long here. So… an answer for a kiss?”

His time for an incredulous snort: “… you are laying naked on top of me and ask for a kiss?”

“Almost naked. And I don’t think it’s a particularly hard request?” She shrugged and tilted her head.

He leaned forward, brows raised, and pressed his lips… to her forehead, the angle was awkward enough anyway: “Done. So, that’s how I get all questions answered?”

She smiled, eyes closed: “Mmmhmh” She nodded “And… well, yes, universe. Alternate universe theory, every choice matters and so on... people here have made some choices that the same people in my universe didn’t make that makes them.... different people. And the world around them different, too. All the various choices made the Asmodeus in my universe be the one I wanted. For... enjoyment. But that’s not a thing, for other various choices. So… I’m rather… happy with this circumstance,” she said and spread her fingers on his chest, looking like a cat who got her cream.

Well. She did.

“… are you telling me there is a version of me who made such terrible choices to not have sex with someone as gorgeous as you?” Pulling her up to a half-sitting position and into kissing distance, her cheek his next target. Ridiculous ‘payment’.

“… for banter, too? How generous. Ah… and well, he might agree. Chances are there. But the circumstances forbid it. Also my choices. That’s all I can tell. I can give the kiss back, though?”

“Be my guest,” she leaned forward and kissed his nose. He rolled his eyes: “So… you were specifically horny for me. Just… your own version”

“That’s the long and short-” He leaned forward and kissed her other cheek, resulting in big, admiring eyes for him. It really was nothing. Why did it make the angel so happy? “- short of… it. Yeah. And now I… well, now… I need to find my own counterpart. I suppose”

It was as clumsy a theme-change as he had ever seen, but he kissed the corner of her mouth all the same to get an answer for: “Why do you need to find that one?”

“… you are… ah… terribly nice. And… to get home, of course. ’ve done a few accidental trips. Finding ‘myself’ here will help to find a way back. Cut myself, get a bit of blood flowing, keep a piece of my own dimension at hand and… kind of keep an eye out for the exit. It’ll show up. Almost a witch-ritual or something. Worked before. Then I can go” She shrugged again.

“And… you suppose I’ll let you go just like that?” He touched her lips with his, barely a contact.

And she sighed, regaining her will to answer only after a few moments: “You’ll be tired of me soon, you have even less reason to want to keep me than my version might ever have. So.” Her eyes wandered to his lips, expression soft: “... kissing you is even nicer if you’re this careful, it’s amazing”

He shook his head, the angel might be in a bit of emotional trouble, there: “… you’re the cutest thing. But… why are you actually here? I mean… you just showed up, so tell me”

The angel tilted her head until she received another, less careful, kiss. With a happy sigh, she answered: “… I actually don’t quite know. There are lots of portals in my place. Maybe my pining was too ridiculous and the fabric of reality ripped to balance my brain?” He frowned for an amused second and she got defensive: “… what, I am an archangel. And I don’t know why the universe travels happen anyway.”

Except for the thousand or so people who serve on tenders or scout ships at some point during their lifetime, “the sky” is a foreign concept.  They live in a ship.  “Up” is the ceiling.  I am sure the earliest generations felt the loss of the sky acutely - Grendan had a yellow orange star, blue skies, a moon, other planets to share its system and a fantastic view of the sky, which, on dark nights, featured a view of a galactic arm and center, stretched from horizon to horizon. They had looked up and wondered, and that wonder had driven the science that had, over fewer generations than the Spero had been in transit, transformed their understanding of the universe from a geocentric model, to a world that could imagine a ship such as the Spero and send it on its way.  

In the oldest parts of the Spero, the ceiling is a molded plastic composite that curves, without a seam or corner, into the walls.  It is smooth, and made of a material that is lumiescent - filling the room in a soft warm light that leaves fuzzy shadows on the floor.  There are few rooms left with this ceiling - Dispatch, the bridge, one of the eight common halls, a few apartments, one of the science labs.  However, in most of the ship, the original walls and ceilings and floors have long since been replaced.  

They may have been damaged when components broke and they needed to get at piles and wires behind the plating.  Once taken down, they could not re-install them.  Or, there may have been a need to reconfigure the space as society changed. One way or another, while there are still panels of material, most if it is no longer mounted in its original configuration.

In the parts of the ship that are newer, the ceilings can be anything.   - Wires strung in bundles along the hallways - ventilation and plumbing that have been rerouted and tangled like tree roots - cat walks that support the floor above - isolated light panels, patched into the ceiling but no longer in continuous sheets - Suspended ceiling, made from colorful mural/mosaic style patterns - Lights in globes Regardless, the ceiling is not neat. It is not clean. It is often visually “loud” - but it is what people are used to.  Getting into the common hall with the original ceiling is, for some, such a relief.  Or, walking into dispatch for the first time. (Well, Dispatch is an impressive room regardless.) Corridors The big corridors have some interesting ceilings.  They are high - spanning two or, in some places, three levels and they are brightly lit.  As much as possible, they have managed to keep or reuse the warm yellowy light ceiling panels, but in some places they have replaced them with newer, bluer lights manufactured on the ship.  The walls of the corridors show much evidence of the years of modifications - ductwork and bundles of wires are strung along, just over door height in many places, but the plants in the corridors give the illusion of wilderness.  Trees and trellises of vines filter the light that make it to the floor.  Higher levels are brighter than lower ones.  

The axel The axel is in zero g most of the time - the ship moves at a constant velocity.  (There were periods where it was accelerating, in which case there was a “down”, but the acceleration was gentle - so it was microgravity.  For generations, now, they have been going at a constant velocity of about half the speed of light. When they go faster, the power drain on the shield is too great.  

Anyway, most people never go to the axel - it is reserved for the roughly 5%-10% of the population who are scout pilots, tender crew, maintenance/construction personal for the ships, or who work on the Spero’s drive system and shield.  The roughly 1/2 mile from the ring to the axel is covered by way of an elevator on one of the spokes.  The room they emerge into has a distinct orientation, with a down coinciding to the the direction of the ring - so that when they come out of the elevator, they are not eschew.  That room is set up as a classroom or meeting room and it is used for orientation of the new staff and training of the new pilots.  It has an original, sun-panel ceiling.   The hallway outside of that room, and all the rooms beyond, have no orientation.  The hallway is a long tunnel running parallel to the axle, along one side of the ion channel.  Doors lead off in all directions. People “fly” down the hall head first.  The doors are color coded - in a color code that does not match the uniform colors at all. The door out is yellow. The doors to the scout ships and training rooms are green. The doors to the tender ships and training rooms are blue. The doors to the shield rooms are red. The doors to the drive system are orange.  The doors to the construction hangers are black.