Written by - Reconcilethewords and Paperhelmet
The big-headed man entered the craft from behind Sam and Bailey with a synthetic hiss, the beam of blue-white light collapsing behind him. He rubbed his pupil-less eyes - which blinked horizontally - and straightened his back with a crack. "You kids alright? Running into a Beam Elevator is a good way to make yourself sick, y'know.”
He rubbed his pupil-less eyes - which blinked horizontally - and straightened his back with a crack. “I'd say save that kind of thing for emergencies. Economy instant transports usually can't handle solving two directions at once. Been known to port the contents've your stomach in half a second late."
Sam leaned against the nearest wall he could find, bracing himself on his forearm and covering his mouth with his hand. A couple of dry heaves later he spoke hoarsely. "I don't understand... Anything you just said..." The Fountain Dew in his stomach sloshed around sickeningly. His gum was gone; likely swallowed on the way up.
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Bailey was with him and sighed in relief when he found her.
Bailey, eyes watering from the florescent lights, frantically went for her bag. In the light of the ship Sam could make out her heart shaped face and almond-colored eyes. There was a subtle upturn of her nose with a high widows peak that was hidden amidst head of tight brown curls that fell at her shoulders. Her lips, dry and cracked, were full and in a perpetual pout even when she was smiling. She was thick legged with full hips, her face holding a bit of baby fat in her flushed cheek. She was a full head shorter than Sam and only inches taller than the alien standing just beside her. Gold and silver bangles hung from hers wrists by tens and her nails were painted a striking orange with flaking varnish that hadn't been reapplied in months.
Her fingers were covered in bandages in a rainbow of gaudy colors - some peeling back to reveal small cat-like scratches that had yet to start healing. Her feather ornament, seemingly to be from a very large avian, sparkled with gold filament in the lights. It looked to have been dipped in gold metal, the edges razor sharp to touch. Her messenger bag, showing it's age in a frayed strap and creases, was peppered with novelty pins and flags of several different countries.
The largest being a Aboriginal-inspired orca jumping a cresting wave of blue and green - the words 'Go Canucks!' splayed over the middle. Her face was a sickeningly green pallor, clearly suffering the same stomach pain as Sam. The world was lost on her for a moment as she fussed over whatever was inside.
He could see her in living color now, as well as the big-headed man a few steps behind her. He was your typical grey alien; big, ovular head, black eyes and no nose to speak of. His grey skin was smooth and hairless, except for the area around his mouth, dusted with stubble. The safety-yellow jacket and slacks he was wearing in addition to the matching trucker hat conjured the image of a intergalactic bus-driver.
Sam raised his brow and sharply inhaled through his teeth. "You uh... You're an alien... With a hat," he offered flatly.
The grey snorted. "And you're a human; with working eyeballs."
"Please be okay, please be okay." She mumbled worriedly under her breath. A woozy whine resounded from the bag in a nauseated trill.
Sam turned his head to the side, then looked back at Bailey. "Did... Was that you?," he questioned, somewhat worried. "Did your bag just make bird noises?"
"No!" She began out of habit, only to cut herself short with a nervous smile, "Yeah... yeah it did." Bailey relented awkwardly.
The grey laughed and pushed past. "Kid, if you've got an animal you can let it run around. Well... Long as it ain't anything dangerous." He pulled up his slacks and moseyed on through a nearby door that Sam assumed lead to the rest of the ship.
She watched the grey leave through the sliding door and whistled comfortingly to her messenger bag, rubbing soothing circles in the side. Upon realizing that Bailey wasn't going to take the man's (she wondered if they had the same pronouns) advice her bag gave an irate trill and smacked violently against her thigh in a child-like fit.
"Yeah, real mature you big baby. You can deal." She scowled at it impishly, but not bothering to stop the thrashing. Her hand white-knuckled the strap, the frayed edges lining up with the bandages on her fingers. "Sorry," She told Sam, "S'been a long trip, I think he's restless - or being cooped up for so long. I've been promising to feed him since Jasper..."
Sam made a map in his head and drew and imaginary line from British Columbia - The home of the 'Go Canucks!' logo on Bailey's bag - to Medicine Hat, Alberta and cringed. "You went a full province without feeding the thing? That's no good. We gotta get something in it before... I dunno, what is it even?"
She shrugged helplessly, "Best we probably do before he forces his way out." Bailey muttered, cringing in memory of what he had done to her neighbors mobile home back in the trailer park where she had grown up. "He's kinda like a bird --"
Bailey, standing just shy of Sam, was cut short as her bag trilled excitedly. A long tongue slipped from the corner of the flap and licked at his pant leg - stealing a spider that had made a home there. The material where the tongue had made contact began to sizzle. The tongue slithered back with a quick snap, an elated muffled chirping coming from within
"... Like a bird, you said?" Sam stared at the patch of seared denim, pulling it away from his leg to get a better look. He tried to think of all the different kinds of birds he knew with acidic tongues, but unfortunately none sprang to mind. "Look, maybe we should follow the alien, God I never thought I'd say that and mean it, and mean that. Maybe... Idunno, maybe there's non-pants related food for it inside, all I've got it in my bag is candy."
He turned around and made for the set of steel doors the grey had left through. ‘Okay... Find your happy place... Deep breath. Just find somewhere to sit down and collect your thoughts, its no big deal you've been abducted by aliens, happens to tons of people.’
He shook his hands loose and moved one toward the doors. ‘If crappy B-Movies on the Space network have taught me anything...’
An electronic beep ‘arped gently from an unseen speaker and the doors flew apart.
His smile was triumphant. ‘Yeah, thought so.’
“I’m sorr…” Bailey began, only to be interrupted subsequently abandoned by Sam in the small hallway as he marched towards the sliding doors. A nervous trilled questioned from her bag, feeding off Bailey’s own anxiety. She mumbled under her breath, giving her bag a soft but firm pat. She was quick to fall in step behind Sam. She was wholly unprepared for what greeted her.
“W-Whoa.”
The doors retracted in a snap, spurred by the sensor bars visible in the doorframe. It beeped twice as Sam and Bailey stepped through, both flabbergasted and confused by the sight. Beyond them it opened into a gigantic circular space with a vaulted ceiling that stood at least fifty feet above their heads. The room was ringed by massive digital flat screens that could have been easily mistaken for windows in the chrome bulkhead. It gave a panoramic view of the outside of the ship that was resting on the top of the knoll they had only just sprinted across, still lit up by the diffused blue glow of the ship’s spot-lights.
The interior itself was an anachronistic amalgamation of alien technology and 1950’s décor. One half of the ship was dedicated to a styled lounge and a open air kitchen. Diner-inspired seats made of pastel blue upholstery ringed the plasma viewings screens with tin-table tops between them. People, of varying races and species, seated themselves sparsely in the rows. Giddy giggles and bouts of excited chatter broke over them in a quiet din as the smell of greasy food and burnt bacon wafted from kitchen. It looked as if a piece of 1950’s Americana had been ripped off the side of a highway and jammed into the corner of a Roswell spacecraft. A checker-tiled quartz counter top separated the lone cook from the passengers as she flitted between the grill top and the coffee maker. She was dressed down in a loose fitted t-shirt with tattoos from wrist to elbow chewing nosily on a piece of bubble gum. Bar stools ringed her counter and a few of the passengers had taken refuge there clutching chalk-white cups of coffee.
Bailey, barely able to tear her eyes away, flicked them over to the second half of the ship where the marriage of the two impossibilities happened. It was free of seats and wide-screens, instead piled with World War II telemetry and radars. The scripts scrolled in indecipherable runic letters that reminded her of the movie ‘Independence Day.’
Sam could only stare, taking in the odd menagerie of races and eras that forced themselves into his eyes. Silently, unblinking and without looking, he retrieved a dark-chocolate almond bar from his backpack.
"Baiwey... Are you feeing vis," he said, not so much a question as begging confirmation that he hadn’t gone crazy.
"Mhm," Bailey whined high pitched behind lips drawn into a thin line.
He scanned the area for other humans or anything vaguely modern and familiar, but every creature his eyes could find save for Bailey was only human at first glance. Some had horns, antennae, tails, wings... One had the lower body of a goat, to which Sam could only muster an exasperated blow.
The grey dressed in yellow reappeared overhead, sitting comfortably in a levitating chair and fiddling with some kind of futuristic tablet. He came to a slow stop in the middle of the transparent dome that occupied the center of the ceiling, several holographic screens flickering to life around him. Fixing his hat, the grey pulled a small microphone from the arm of his chair and a touch of feedback echoed throughout the craft.
"Attention passengers, attention passengers, this is Captain Larrz of the S.S. Sunspot. In about five minutes we will be prepared for take-off. If there are any calls you have to make before we leave satellite range, please make those calls now. Estima-... Haha, whoops, hit the coffee maker. Estimated time 'till we reach the school, about twelve hours. Feel free to have a nap, we'll wake you up when we get there. Oh, kitchen's open too, please inform our lovely Chef Ganymede of any allergies before ordering. Enjoy the flight."
Sam swallowed. "... This is actually happening... I guess... We should find somewhere to sit."
With the Captain announcement, Bailey grimaced. On top of the eighteen hours she had already traveled, her cramped thighs ached at the idea of tacking on another twelve.
'Wait, doesn't it take three days to get to --' "Ha-buh-wha?" She babbled to Sam, her voice cracking with prepubescence. "R-right!" she squeaked, her cheeks red from embarrassment. "Food." She daftly stated, pivoting on her heel toward the counter.
Sam climbed into one of the stools lining the porcelain counter. It was stained with age, but otherwise clean, save for the odd crumb or two. He eyed a few of the less obvious contraptions in the kitchen, unsure of what more a kitchen needed than a stove, a fridge and a few cupboards. One gadget had a big rectangular window set in it, taller than it was wide, with a narrow slot just thick enough to maybe slide a CD into. Another resembled a water cooler, but with a thin mechanical arm in place of a spigot. He shook his head. It was going to take a long time to get over any of this.
"Hey uh... Why don't you go first," Sam offered to Bailey, admittedly somewhat scared of starting a conversation with anyone that wasn't for sure a human being. This "Ganymede" seemed to fit the bill but something felt... off about her. "You need it more than I do, after all, heh."
With a faint nod of agreement, Bailey sat down beside Sam and rested her satchel on her thighs. It moved and twitched, chirping anxiously; invigorated by the smell of bacon grease.
"Um," She glanced warily at the menu, finding her cheeks warming yet again with embarrassment. "I've never actually done this before... I've always just gone out and bought packages of raw meat from a butcher or grocery store..." She told Sam under her breath, gesturing towards the cook with both hands discreetly, "How do you ask 'Hey, can I have whole raw chicken if you got one?'" She asked Sam helplessly
Sam laughed, amused. "A whole chicken? Like from a mini-mall or something? What kind of dog are you keeping in there?" He scratched the back of his hand, still nervous. "Why don't you literally just say that? We're on a... Hoo... We're, we're on a U.F.O., I'm pretty sure 'I'd like a whole chicken, please,'" he exaggerated the phrase with some silly gestures, "isn't too much of a thing to ask for." He looked back at the kitchen. "Speaking of, I guess we know what they do with all that abducted livestock now...”
Bailey snorted with a quiet giggle. "I didn't say it was a dog," She reminded with a playful hint.
It was still surreal to be open about her most guarded and closely kept secret. Bailey pulled out her cellphone and laid it on the counter, it was a clunky and old, the first version of a touch screen. She tapped the screen, opening up the menu, and selected a note pad application. In it had several lines, once of which was labeled 'School.' She opened the application and typed. 'Mode of transportation; spaceship. ‘Three day journey condensed into twelve hours.'
Bailey sighed as she set it down, shook her head, and waved down the cook. She glanced at Sam, pushed down her cowardice, and let the words tumble out of her mouth. "Hey, um - It is possible to get chicken? Like... a whole one? Raw?" She cringed, "Er... If not, s-s'not a bother... Sorry."
Chef Ganymede looked over, a baby-blue bubble hovering just in front of her lips. It popped audibly, and she sucked it back into her mouth. "Sure thing, sugar," she responded tiredly, placing her phone in her cleavage and turning towards the kitchen.
"... Huh. It really was that easy," Sam let slip. "Er, uh, I mean, see? It's that easy." He coughed.
His eyes followed Ganymede, expecting her to make a beeline for the refrigerator, his face falling slightly when she went the opposite direction. She opened the front of a tall, metal cylinder that was separated vertically into tiers, filled to the top with colored discs. She took a single pinkish-beige disc from the middle and closed the door, heading over to the windowed gizmo Sam had noticed earlier. With precision that spoke volumes about her familiarity with her job, she slid the disc into the odd slot in the bottom of the machine and activated it with a few prods of a keypad.
Sam attempted to shake himself awake when he saw the pink wireframe of a plucked and headless chicken appear in the rectangular window. He had to add a double-take and a quick session of rubbing his eyes when he saw the real deal reconstitute itself from whatever was in that disc. In just under a minute Ganymede had whisked the poultry onto a red and white dinner plate and served it to Bailey, cold, dead, and surprisingly fresh, as if it had just been washed and prepared. "And for yourself, darlin'?," she asked Sam nonchalantly.
Sam's mouth hung open as if to catch flies. "... I uh... Need a moment."
"That's amazing! Just like outta a sci-fi comic-" Bailey gushed loudly, only shrink in on herself as the plate was slid in front of her.
Several heads turned, some chuckled, and another muttered disdainfully. "Mundanes."
Bailey mumbled her thanks, hiding behind a fringe of her curls, and opened the flap of her bag to tip the chicken in. An excited trilled erupted from the leather - the bag throwing itself around on her lap with the sounds of noisy snap of jaws and a whine for more seconds later. "That is all you get for now. More later, promise..." She looked bashfully up at the cook. "H-How much do I owe you?"
Ganymede raised her palm and shook her head. "First one's on the house, sweetie. Most students get on this ol' starbucket with not a Copper to their name. It'd be unfair to charge." She shot a steely glare at the man who had spoken up in a fit of prejudice, leaving him suitably cowed. "And don't mind the peanut gallery. Non-students should count themselves lucky we let them on at all. This ship belongs to the School, darnit."
She turned her attention back to Sam, who was fidgeting something fierce, eyes fixed on the point in space whereupon the chicken ceased to be. "I uh... I guess I'll have uh..." Sam thought for a moment. "... What's a mundane?"
Ganymede laughed, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Humans, sugar. Non-magic humans that can't see past the Barrier. Something you two ain't anymore."
Sam rested his chin on his palm. "Well that just raised more questions..."
Bailey shifted on her seat, leaning over her bag to open up a new notepad on her phone. "I read about it," she offered to Sam. "From what little I could find, it's like walking around with a blindfold on? Sorta?" Her dark eyes fled to Ganymede, wondering if the metaphor was the correct one.
The tallish woman straightened her dark hair and examined herself in the reflection of the cash register before her. "Something like that. The long and the short of it is that anything outside of what regular earth folks consider 'normal' is essentially invisible to their senses. It's called the Barrier by most. Sort of a thing the brain flicks on to hide the Magical World from humans, lest they go nuts from the revelation, or get into trouble."
Ganymede leaned on the counter. "The two sides separated by the Barrier can't do nothin' to each other. Can't see each other, can't hear. Can't even touch. They just pass right through like they don't even exist." She looked between the two clueless students-to-be, taking something of a sadistic pleasure in watching them try to figure everything out from her words alone. "'Course, the Barrier can be weakened by being around a lot of magical stuff, or having magical blood down your family tree. And if a Mundane's Barrier's weak and they stumble on into something their brain can't think of a lie for..." She snapped her fingers and watched the startled duo jump. "The Barrier breaks! Then that lucky little Mundane is on their way to becoming a part of the Magical Community... Like you two." She smiled warmly."Though, you may not be all the way yet... Comes in stages, y'know. First you start seeing and hearing things you swear aren't there... Then you're actually able to interact with some of the more 'human-like' Magical Folk. Next thing you know, you're seeing everything the way it should be." Ganymede's expression turned wistful as she reminisced in silence of the time her own Barrier shattered.
"Wow..." Bailey said through her teeth, but her eyes fell to her satchel. She tried to process the fact that she had, inadvertently, joined another sect of people. Magical people. Magical Society. "Like... muggles vs wizards type thing?" Bailey couldn't stop herself from blurting out, the only comparison her overwhelmed mind could supply. "I-I mean..." She gave up, then, and buried her face in her hands.
Ganymede raised an eyebrow. "... Muggles? What're those?"
"Its a thing in a book..." Sam explained absent-minded, leaving Ganymede puzzled. "So like... If I'm getting this right, there's just been this... World, that we couldn't see going on around us since were born, and we're only starting to see it now? Because something," fingers raised in quotation, "'Magical', happened to us?"
"That's the simple way to put it, yeah," Ganymede nodded.
"So our whole lives, there could have been... Things we couldn't see spying on us? Like, a ghost or something could've been break-dancing beside me while I slept for all seventeen years of my life and I would have never known?" His tone steadily grew more and more serious while a translucent girl several stools down giggled to herself.
"Well, with some of the more human-ish folk, your brain would've dressed them up as humans so as to lighten the load, so to speak. So a fella that was, say, an Elf wouldn't be able to pull a stunt like that. But something as complex as a ghost could get away with a break dance or two, I'd reckon." She winked cheekily.
Sam hugged his stomach, suddenly wishing he'd never asked. "... I feel ill..."
Bailey reached her hand up as if to pat Sam consolingly on the shoulder, but thought better of it. "It's okay man," She offered instead, "Maybe a glass of water?" Bailey asked Ganymede pleadingly gentle.
She worried her lips between her teeth, troubled with thought.There was so much she didn't know and so much to take in -- and Bailey hadn't been normal - Mundane - for a long time. Not since she was eight years old. She thought, then, on the website pages that came up '404 error' and found herself saying. "I don't think I'm fully out of it yet... I still can't see some things. What about you, Sam? What made you start seeing things?"
"Well, uh..." he began. "It was a couple months ago, when I was still living with... Living at my old place. Crummy neighborhood, so, of course all the crummy kids that lived there went to the same crummy school I did. I was eating a chocolate bar... Foreign stuff, got it off the internet, and some jerk, Jason Carmichael shoved me outta my seat. We were in the courtyard, so it got covered in dirt and gravel and... stuff. I'd told him to back off the day before. He was always picking on me..."
Sam knocked back a mouthful of water after Ganymede placed it in his hand. "... So, knowing what he does to kids who tick him off, I... reacted. I hucked a bunch of rocks in his face." Sam made a throwing gesture. "I'd thrown the chocolate too, I didn't even realize I picked it up, and then... It exploded. Right in Jason's fat, ugly mug." He nodded, staring into space, almost like an old, grizzled war veteran recalling his days in Vietnam. "It had to be the chocolate too... I remember bits of burning chocolate stuck to my fingers. After that, I got expelled for 'endangering a fellow student' by 'bringing fireworks to school'... Got in a fight with my f-... My parents. Started seeing weird things out of the corner of my eye and finding TV channels I never knew existed. And uh, yeah. I guess that's where mine got... Broken."After a short silence he stretched loudly to ease the tension. "Uh, w-whaaat about you?," he said to Bailey, reminiscent of a talk-show host. "How'd your one, yours... Your Barrier break?”
Bailey listened intently. "Yeah, kids are real assholes sometimes." Bailey told him sympathetically."Mine? Nothing like that. Mine was a lot slower. Sorta realized the pet I had wasn't... exactly normal."
She chuckled nervously and placed both hands on her messenger bag. "When he started growing feathers, I sorta realized I was in trouble. But if I really think about it - I think I know when I... advanced a stage?" She looked to Ganymede for confirmation and the cook nodded, gesturing for her to continue. "My neighbor in the trailer park, uh, where I live." Bailey sighed, thinking back on the day, and squeezed her satchel with white knuckles. "He always like one of those hoarders - you know? Like on AnE channel? Nasty old guy, always chased us kids away from his trailer. Everyone hated him. Anyway, this guy got away from me and he was too big at that point for me to stop. I found him in my neighbors mobile home - had to break in to get it." Bailey grimaced. "My neighbor had like... faeries? I think, locked up in bottles all over the place. I didn't know what to do so I picked Abel and booked it out of there. After that, I started seeing more and more stuff."
"Starting t-... Okay, I gotta level with you Bailey. What the hell is in the bag?" He took a moment to mentally ask himself what he thought he was doing. If she had it locked up in a bag, it was probably for good reason.
Ganymede agreed. "Yeah, what is rustling around in that sack of yours? I've just been watching it twitch, plum curious as to what kinda animal you've got in there. If it even is an animal..." She smiled at Bailey, knowing all too well that whatever was in that bag could be intelligent. "Also, make sure you peg your pig-shit neighbor for Faerie Trafficking, that's all kinds of illegal."
A light rumble pulsed through the floor as the S.S. Sunspot's engines came to life. Captain Larz's voice filled the air. "Please stay seated, ladies and gentlemen, we'll be taking off in just a minute or two."
"Well, uh, a few years ago... Abel," she gestured to her bag, "kinda fell on his trailer and bisected the thing. I think a lot of them got away. I threw a empty propane tank in there and the cops blamed it on faulty stove." She grinned triumphantly to Ganymede, glad she had done the right thing, even if by accident.
She instinctively rested her hand over the flap of her messenger bag. Her pet, Abel, trilled curiously. As if excited by the prospect of being freed from confines of the satchel. "...Uh, um... Spoilers?" She laughed, eyebrows pinching contritely.
Bailey was uncomfortable with exposing Abel. She had spent ten years keeping him a close guarded secret. It was hard to wipe away a decade of secrecy, even if she was slowly leaving the planets orbit bound for, hopefully, greater things. Bailey raised her band-aid covered hand up to the feather tied in her hair. It was nearly a foot long, edges tipped with gold, and played with it between her fingers. It was a gradient of exotic orange and green, flecks of red threaded through the keratin. "This is one of his feathers."
Sam looked between the feather and Bailey, unimpressed, while Ganymede looked on with an intrigued expression, wholeheartedly impressed. "Psh," Sam blew. "'Spoilers'... It can't stay in there forever, Bailey. Gotta go to the bathroom at some point..." He turned to Ganymede. "Speaking of which-" He was cut off by the sudden roar of the craft's propulsion system.
A low hum began to reverberate through the Sunspot's cavernous interior as the fire-less engines glowed white with power. The saucer displaced a roiling cloud of dust as its wire-thin landing gear retracted into the hull and the ring of lights dotting its edge began to slowly rotate around the perimeter. Sam tore himself away from the conversation to observe the simulated windows, on the other side of which the horizon began to sink. He gulped, fighting and just barely beating the urge to run and look over the edge.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, stifled only by a lingering fear that was slowly ebbing away. "... I guess this is it."
"It is," Bailey whispered, eyes resting on the sun as it just peaked over the horizon. The expanse of pine forests and cities below slowly becoming nothing more than specks of inconsequential grid lights. She searched the horizon for a sight of home, fighting the cognitive hallmarks of severe homesickness. She thought of the beach her Mom took her to on lazy summer days or the nature hikes through valleys in the middle of forested suburbs.
'If I don't get in,' Bailey told herself, tearing her eyes away, and clutched at the glass in her hand. 'It'll be a Hell of a story... that I can't tell anyone.' Bailey inhaled sharply through her nose and threw Sam an uneasy grin. "You only need to be brave once, right?" She echoed her mantra. Words a wiry-thin old man had told a little girl with a fat-lip and a black eye.
“Good mindset," said Ganymede, keeping an eye on Sam, afraid he might start to hyperventilate. "Hon, have you decided on something to eat? Food'll be good for your nerves."
Sam shook his head free of his thoughts and turned back towards the worried chef. "S-sorry. Just... Do you have burgers? Something with meat and... bread, I guess... I don't know, I'm drawing a blank."
Ganymede chuckled. "Bacon cheeseburger and fries it is. What about you... Bailey, right? Getting anything for yourself tonight?" She glanced at the simulated windows. "Or, today, I should say."
"Just the same," Bailey's mouth salivated at the idea of food, she hadn't eaten since they left Vancouver. Her focus had been on Abel and his care. "Since it's technically my second meal."
Bailey opened the flap of her back, digging her arm into the satchel without worry. She winced as she scraped against Abel's muzzle, catching on his hide, and he chirped rubbing against her hand affectionately. He was intelligent enough to understand that they were leaving. When they had cleared the Rocky Mountains, he had been frantic without of the scent of the sea and reacted to Bailey's own growing trepidation.
'Later, bud, I promise.' She silently promised, tapping her fingers against his nose. He huffed, but she found the purse. She pulled the blue, telephone box printed clip purse from her bag. "I'm not exactly sure what the currency exchange is... I just have this on me... I hope it's enough."
She opened it and pulled out six platinum coins and several smaller silver ones and few gold. They were printed with a ten planet solar system with the sun at the center.
"Ooh, someone got sent away with change to spare." Ganymede's eyes sparkled in the light that reflected off of the bashful girl's money. "All that's gonna take you far. What you've got there is close to seven-hundred US Dollars. Just five of the silver ones is fine, sugar."
Sam recoiled in shock. "Wh-... Are you loaded or something!?," he asked incredulously, as if he'd just been betrayed.
Bailey stared wide-eyed at the Ganymede's estimation. She had her phone in her hand neigh instantly, thumbing the exchange. "I-I'm not loaded! I live in a trailer park!" She reminded feverishly, putting her phone back on the table - aghast.
"Either way, two bacon burger combos coming right up." Ganymede retreated back to the kitchen and pulled a half-empty bag of frozen fries from the freezer.
Sam put a hand to his mouth and whispered to Bailey. "Thank god, she's using a normal appliance. If she just up and downloaded a burger I was gonna freak."
Ganymede then proceeded to take a couple of tiny brown tablets from a nearby cupboard and place them into the second gadget Sam had noticed earlier, the one with the tiny mechanical arm. A few bubbles rose from the bottom of the transparent water tank to the top, and the tiny arm whirred to life, depositing atop the tablets a drop of water each. In barely any time at all the tablets had unfurled and expanded, fully transformed into hamburger buns nearly the size of a human head, sesame seeds and all.
Sam's poker face was resolute, and polished as bronze. “I uh... I need to go bleed the l-... Relieve myself, 'scuse me..." Despite the Captain's orders and Ganymede's concerned hand, Sam got to his feet.
She chuckled as Sam leaned to whisper at her opening her mouth to agree - only to cringe as his concern became reality
His expression was inscrutable as he fled across the bay despite Ganymede's warning to remain seated. "Sam wa-" He was gone across the foyer before she had a chance to finish. She sighed heavily, concerned, and rubbed at the back of her neck."That boy gonna be okay, sugar?" The cook sighed with a light bob of her head as she dropped the fries into the scalding fryer oil.
"I have no idea," Bailey answered truthfully, "I literally just met him thirty minutes ago in a forest..." She massaged her temple, feeling an on coming headache. It wasn't bred out of frustration or concern, but long drawn out fatigue.
Bailey was exhausted.
The ship's din quieted as people sorted themselves among the plush leather seats and others hunkered down for the long haul. Light music floated out of the speakers, crackling with dynamic feedback. It was old and country - no doubt the Captain's choice. Ganymede swept away from her for a moment, busy with other passengers, and prepping their order. This was just another day at work for the chef. This was just another day for all of them. This was so normal for them. Like a commercial flight to Honolulu or Mexico... Except they were orbit bound. Her phone, resting on the counter, buzzed with a update notice. Captain Larrz had warned them they had a small window of opportunity to make any urgent calls. With the horizon slowly ebbing away into a sky darkened with encroaching stars, Bailey knew it was closing. The network bars were slowly decreasing by the minute, a 'roaming' warning popped up in the corner. She brought up her contacts with a tap of her thumb, hovering over 'Mom.'
Bailey clicked the green call icon and brought the receiver to her ear.
"Heya honey!" Her Mother's voice erupted excitedly from the other end. "It's pretty late for you to be calling - early? God, what time is it even over there?" She questioned, the sounds of a fire and luau music crackling through the speaker.
"Hey, Mom." Bailey hoped her voice didn't crack. "I was up early, wanted to see how you and Charlie were doing?"
"We're doing great, sweetheart, you should see the view from the hotel. It's breath taking. Just like the post cards we used to look at remember?" Bailey's eyes fled plasma screens that ringed the ship, Earth slowly spreading out before her in a 1080p panoramic.
"That sounds amazing, Mom. I'm so glad you're having fun. You deserve it you know." She trailed off. Bailey closed her eyes and wanted to only focus on her Mother's voice. She didn't know when she would hear it again.
"Mom?"
"Uhuh?"
"I love you, you know that right?"
"Of course, baby... What's wrong?" She fretted, the enthusiasm lost from her voice. She tsked. "I knew we shouldn't have left you by yourself - I can cancel, we come home early --"
Bailey, hearing the crackle of an impending disconnect, rushed to say."I just wanted to tell you that I love you and you're the best, you know?"
"Awe, honey - Just a week more and we'll be ho-- fzzt crack"
Bailey stared mournfully at the 'no signal' symbol that flashed across her screen. "... But I don't know if I'll be."
-
Sam felt the force of the ship's ascension with every step as he trudged in the direction of the bathroom sign (three figures, the standard blue and pink man and woman, and another between them that was green with a tiny "ETC." on the head). He stumbled through the door to the men's and looked around to see if anyone else was there. When he determined that it was just him in there with only the stalls and urinals for company, he fell to his elbows on a flat space between the sinks. He ran his hands roughly across his hair, distraught, the impossibility of his situation and the forces of elevation not helping matters.
"Okay... I'm not dreaming. That's... I'm not stupid enough to think this is a dream..." His breathing was heavy and ragged. He'd been walking for far too long. Hoping it would wake him up, he cranked the cold water and splashed it across his face. He met himself in the mirror with eyes that were screaming for clarity, the droplets of water streaming down his face granting the illusion that he was sweating bullets.
"Yeah... Yeah, definitely not dreaming." He put his full weight on the counter, forehead resting on his crossed forearms. "Aliens exist. Magic exists. Faeries exist. Everything is real."
He looked up at his scowling reflection. "So, idiot. Was it worth it? Magic School... What the hell was I thinking..." He took out his phone and tried to turn it on, forgetting it had died. "... No. No, no turning back now. Anywhere's better than there. Anywhere's better..."
He took a deep breath and looked himself dead in the eye. "You did the right thing."
