Aurora - Way of the Goddess Pt. 06

Watson sat himself down on an ornate armchair between the two classic sofas, while Beck cosied up to Vicky on the couch. Sitting back, the pocket-rocket pilot raised her drink. "Here's to passports in our pockets," she declared, "and bucks in our wallets."

"Air below us." Ben said.

"Fuel in the tank."

"And one hundred knots up the tail!"

"Oooo!" Ally fanned herself, "Up the tail. Why ah do de-clair-yah!"

They clinked glasses, laughing, then drank and Vicky set her flute carefully down. Now he looked, Watson saw an elaborately wrapped parcel in the middle of the table, gold paper trussed with pink ribbon. "Here, Beck." Vicky said, "This is for you."

Beck looked askance at the offering, then at Watson, who merely shrugged. "Should I open it?"

"Hang on," Ally said, "let me check." Bending, she gave the mystery item a poke and yelled, "Oi! Parcel! Open the fuck up." After waiting a few seconds she straightened again and hooked back her hair. "Looks like you might have to."

Beck carefully picked it up and turned it over, trying to fathom its contents. "Come on, Becky," Ben urged, "it's not ticking. Go for it!"

The paper came off to reveal a box. The lid box came off the box and there was a large leather wallet, embossed with her name. She turned it over, fleetingly disappointed, having hoped all along for the fabled passport. "It's awesome, Macca." she said unconvincingly, "Thanks." Pushing up, she kissed Vicky wetly on the ear.

"Aww.. we're the ones who picked it up." Ally cried, "Don't we get a kiss?" Rising, Beck did the rounds, dutifully kissing Ally on the cheek, standing coyly in front of Ben, almost salivating, as he leant forward and gave her a peck on the forehead. Taking her place beside Vicky, she picked up the wallet and was wondering what to put in it when Vicky gave her a nudge.

"Go on, Beck. There's something inside it."

Beck fumbled with the magnetic catch and lifted the flap. Delving inside, she extracted a little blue book. Nobody breathed as she put the wallet down then riffled the pages of the odd little volume. The pages were blank. Beck's heart sank- what use was this- until Vicky plucked it from her fingers. "Silly-billy," she tutted, "it's back to front." She passed it back, open at the first page.

There Beck found a photo of herself. The one they'd taken in Sydney the day before. "It's me!" she beamed proudly, thinking it must be some sort of diary. Not a very big one- she could fill it in no time- but it was the only one she'd ever seen with her picture in it. And they'd gone the trouble of decorating it, too, with a bunch of cool holograms, like those fancy birthday cards she'd once shoplifted.

Watson rocked forward and held out his hand. "Can I have a look, Moosh?" he sat back, staring at it a long time, not saying a word while his eyes filled with tears. "It's beautiful."

"Your very first passport, Becky." Ally announced and the penny suddenly dropped. "You'll be able to come with us now. Anywhere in the world."

There was a round of cheering and applause followed by another round of Champagne and Watson sat back, basking in the glow of so much vibrant energy. These young professionals- talented, intelligent, funny and beautiful- were at the top of their game, living life to the full and brimming with potential. Between them, they had helped make pull off a miracle, tugging strings, subverting bureaucracy, manipulating an otherwise intractable system to their own advantage. And here it was. Becky's first passport, her key to the world.

The Champagne ran out. When Beck excused herself to go to the toilet, Ally stood up, stocky but incredibly sexy in her skin-tight aqua jeans. As soon as Beck was safely out of earshot, she leant over the table and, in a low voice asked,

"Can I get...

"any of you cunts...

"a drink?"

Watson almost choked while Ben snorted and sniggered and Vicky turned red as a beetroot. "How about another bottle of Veuve?" Ben suggested. "Roger's paying."

"Macca?"

"Mmm.. nahhh thanks.. I'd better take it easy."

"Take it easy?" Ally reared back in horror. "You've had one glass! So somebody call the fuckin' cops! Come on, Macca, we're supposed to be celebrating."

Vicky looked around in quandary, meaning to be pious but wanting to play. "Oh," she rubbed her hands together, "why not? For Beck. It's not every day a girl gets her first passport."

"Damo?"

Watson rocked forward onto his feet. "Why don't I come and give you a hand?"

"See that, Fuck-stick?" Ally sneered at Ben. "He's what's known as a gen-tle-maan."

"I'll start being a gentleman the day you start being a lady."

Ally blew a raspberry, "Fat chance of that."

Hitching his jeans, Watson glanced at Vicky in time to catch a fleeting flash of jealousy. Alarm bells, sirens and hooters went off in his brain, along with gongs, whistles and car horns. Something was cooking in the brunette's little mind, something spicy. "Macca?" he asked, just to see her respond, "could you keep an eye out for Beck?"

Vicky shook herself free of the spell. "What? Sure?"

Watson set off, side by side with the diminutive aviator. She radiated absolute confidence, the very sort needed to handle a forty-ton thoroughbred at forty thousand feet and five hundred knots, her 'don't-fuck-with-me' facade only making her all the more desirable. Her hip-swaying walk was more of a swagger, and her eyes were never still, keen, yet calm, casing the surroundings. She cut the figure of a pint-sized gunfighter on her way to a showdown, her stout build doing little to dispel the allure. Built for speed and not for comfort, she wasn't carrying a scrap of excess fat, thanks to a vegetarian diet and gruelling sessions on the bike with her training pal, Vicky. Watson studied her out of the corner of his eye, appraising her potential. No two ways about it, the girl would be dynamite.

They passed Beck, going the other way, and Ally held out her hand. "Yo! Princess!" she hailed as they slapped palms. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Can I have a cocktail?"

"No cocktails!" Watson shook his head, "Lemon squash or water or you'll be sick."

"One Mai Tai a'comin' right up!" Ally dipped her head, then challenged Watson with teasing eyes. "You heard Macca. Not every day a girl gets her first passport. Anyway. Just imagine what we'll feed her on the ride-along!"

Watson wondered briefly if she was serious and decided she was. On their own again, he looked at the top of her head. "You know," he said tentatively, "if you're at a loose end later on. Maybe you'd like to come back to my room?"

Ally drew a fortifying breath. Custer's last stand, she called it, the almost daily grind of fending off unwanted advances. From rich old lawyers, mostly, who should know better. "Mmmm.. yeahhhh... Nah! That's not gonna happen."

"Oh." the wind slumped out of Watson's sails. After a brief, embarrassed silence he cleared his throat. "Sorry, Ally. I didn't mean-"

"Bullshit!" Ally shot back, "You did mean!" She flicked him a glance. "Oh, don't give me that scolded-puppy look. Think about it. One," she began counting off on her fingers, "you're old enough to be my dad. Two, you're a mate of my boss. And three, you couldn't handle me anyway."

Watson arched his eyebrows. She might have been right on the first two counts but there was no hard evidence to substantiate the third.

"Don't get me wrong," she patted his arm, "I think you're a really nice guy, but why go ruining a perfectly good friendship?"

'Because you're so fucking hot?' Watson thought.

They pulled up at the bar and Ally whistled up another bottle of Champagne.

"What about when you're a few years older?" Watson asked hopefully.

Ally took it all in good humour as he wagered she would. "Then you'll be a few years older."

"But the differential will have reduced as a percentage."

"Hmmm... You've obviously put some thought into this." she replied then flashed the barkeep a smile. "And a Mai Tai, mate. Thanks."

"Actually no," Watson admitted ruefully, "I just made it up."

"Thinking on your feet." she nodded, "Well done."

"So how about it?"

"Tell you what. I'll get back to you in twenty."

"Minutes?"

"Years!" Ally elbowed him playfully.

They headed back to Griffin's bearing French Champagne and a tall, sweating glass of rum, Curacao, lime-juice and almond. "Hope you're not offended?" Watson said.

"Nahh.." Ally's lips pulled back in a big-hearted grin. "Let's face it, you're only human."

A second instalment of the two hundred dollars-a-bottle beverage was despatched in short order as talk turned to dinner. There were several bold suggestions about sallying forth into town, to Chairman and Yip, the crew's regular haunt. There was even mention of the casino, but it was too half-hearted to rate a debate and the idea died on the vine. Then Ben's phone rang and he hurried away, out of earshot for a private conversation. "The Boss." Ally noted gravely.

"Tanya?" Watson frowned.

"No, THE boss! His wife." Ally cupped a hand to her mouth and whispered, "They just had a baby."

Watson sat back feeling crestfallen. A knockback from Ally, Ben doing baby-talk. This couldn't be the crew Tanya had mentioned. Ben was back in fifteen minutes, all smiles.

"How's the bub?" Ally asked.

"Awesome!" Ben gushed. "Sophie's mum is coming up while we're away."

"Going somewhere?" Watson asked, taking a sip of fizzy troublemaker.

"We're off to Honkers." Ally said. "Day after tomorrow."

"What's Honkers?" Beck frowned.

"What's Honkers?" the pilots laughed. "Well you might ask." Composing herself, Ally looked Beck in the eye. "Honkers is what we call Hong Kong."

Beck looked at her, non-plussed. She'd never even heard of the place.

"You know," Ally frowned, "Hong Kong!"

"Geography." Watson cut in, "It isn't her strong suit."

"Well," Ally said, a little wearily, "Honkers is a city, about seven and a half thousand kilometres away."

"Not so much a city as another planet." Ben put in.

"Where the humans have turned into ants."

"Ants?" Beck grimaced, frankly sceptical. "What do you mean?"

"You know," Ben scrabbled his fingers over the back of his hand, in imitation of crawling insects, "ants."

Beck slumped back, arms crossed. "Sorry. I don't get it."

"They've developed a hive-mind." Ben said. "All the human brains have linked up to create a single super-mind, that only ever thinks about the one thing."

In the end it was just too much. "What's that?" Beck asked.

Ben sat back and sipped his drink. Putting it carefully down, he wiped his mouth, then he, Ally and Vicky all chorused, "Moneeeeey!"

"Why are you going there?" Beck asked.

Ben and Ally fell back laughing. "Moneeeeeey!"

"So when do you go?" Watson asked.

"Day after tomorrow," Ally replied, "around twenty one hundred, once the Stream has had a little TLC. Tell you what, Beck's got a passport, she should come."

"Can I?" Beck cried, on the edge of her seat.

Ally sat back, instantly regretting her flippancy. "Sorry Sweets, not this time, I was just teasing. We've got a full load for starters and there's a little bit of paperwork you'll have to fill out. Soon though, I promise."

"You can be our cadet." Ben said brightly.

"Cadet?"

"Space cadet. Trainee pilot. We can teach you to fly."

"Are you guys serious?" Beck demanded. The very suggestion had 'too-good-to-be-true' written all over it.

"We-elll..." Ally hedged, "sort of. If you're still serious about flying in a couple of years, and once you've passed your exams..."

Beck sat back. "How do I start?"

"Student pilot's licence." Ally replied levelly. "And flying lessons. Start off with RAA. Cheaper that way. And if you really are serious about this I can keep an eye on you, help you along the the way."

"Once you've sold your soul." Ben nodded, "You'll need all the help you can get."

All this talk of flying was getting out of hand. Watson had another fate in mind for Beck, one which didn't involve shovelling tens of thousands of dollars he didn't have into aviation's ravenous maw. His stomach was growling anyway, but he was feeling worse for wear and the thought of going to town just left him cold. "Know what?" he piped up, "It's been a big few days. I think I'm just gonna do room service."

"Yeah, bugger town," Ally grated, stretching till her joints popped. "I might turn in."

Vicky yawned. "Why don't we just have a bite here?" She swiped her phone awake. "Here, lets have a look at the snack menu."

There was a murmur of agreement and the order was duly sent out. Five gourmet burgers and a third bottle of Champagne later, and Beck was asleep with her head in Vicky's lap. She was idly stroking Beck's hair, teasing out skeins and running them through her fingers. After three whole glasses of Champagne her face had a rosy glow.

It was going on for bedtime as the three friends sat chatting, gossiping about the sharks in whose midst they swam as minnows. For Watson, on the sidelines, it was scurrilous and riveting in equal proportion, tales of a profession which, shrouded in an aura of such dignified sobriety, was inhabited by drunkards and drug addicts, lechers, deviates, brigands, swindlers and thieves. And these guys didn't know the half of it, he thought smugly.

Beck suddenly stirred and sat up. "What time is it?" she mumbled blearily, stretching.

"Late."

"I might go to bed if you guys don't mind."

Watson had been studying Vicky's dress all night, trying to decide which of the Manga characters he liked most. Probably the ones over her pert little breasts; a girl in a leather flying helmet brandishing a ray gun, and a secret agent type in a black suit and shades. The observations had rendered him temporarily unfit for duty and it was going to be a few minutes before he could stand. "Want me to see you up?" he asked as his eyes said, 'Please say no.'

"Nahh, that's okay," Beck stretched, yawning.

Vicky stood, unbidden, and smoothed her dress. "I've got to nip back to my room." she said, slurring a little and slightly unsteady. "I'll walk her up."

"That's okay," Watson countered, "she should be okay."

Vicky waved him off. "Iss... no trouble, Damo. All part of the sh... shervice."

Beck did the rounds, kissing Ben and Ally on the lips under privilege of near-inebriation. She stepped in front of Watson and he kissed her on the forehead. "I'll give you a wakeup call." he said and ruffled her hair. Two a.m. should do it, enough time to recharge for a quiet round of sex.

Vicky held out her hand. "Excuse me, Mish. May I take a look at your p... passhport, please?"

Beck made a grand production of opening her the embossed leather wallet and solemnly handing over her credentials. Vicky studied Beck's photo through one bleary eye. "Seems to be in order. Right then, Madam. If you'll come this way."

They set off, hand in hand, weaving slightly, chatting and giggling, while Ben sat swiping through his phone. Ally watched the duo disappear around the bend and shook her head. "God dammit," she intoned, "what a fuckin' waste."

"Becky?" Watson frowned.

"No, idiot. Macca!"

"What's a waste? A waste of what?"

"A gorgeous young woman."

Watson looked at Ally, waiting for her to elaborate.

"She's engaged." the little jet pilot explained.

Ben gave his head a mournful shake. "To an absolute fuckwit."

"A bible-bashing, self-righteous, sanctimonious cunt."

"And possible zombie." Ben said to his phone.

"Zombie? Count fucken' Dracula more like it."

Ben snorted then sat bouncing up and down, laughing till there were tears in his eyes. "That's exactly who he reminds me of. Have you... have you ever actually seen him out in the daylight?"

"Remember when he came on that ride-along?" Ally tutted. "The one to Darwin? I just about crossed myself when he got on."

"Why do you think I had all that garlic bread for lunch?"

Ally curled her lip. "You were supposed to wear it, ya fuckin' idiot. Remember how we low-flew over the outback just for funsies? And he just sat there, reading his fuckin' fairytales the whole time? What did he say? Something about it all being delusional?"

"Yeah... nah... hang on." Ben chewed his knuckle, trying to think. "Ill-lusory!" he snapped his fingers. "He kept telling us how the real world is just illusory."

"Right. And his imaginary world up there in the clouds, that's actually real?"

"We should have turfed him out the door." Ben sniffed. "Then he would have seen how illusory it is, when augered-in at terminal velocity."

"And the way he fuckin' looks at you!" Ally seethed, "With those big, sad, 'Jesus-died-on-the-cross-for-you' eyes. It makes my skin crawl."

"That's because we're all sinners, innit? And he's sad, cos' we're all going to hell."

"You know every time we meet I just wanna punch him."

"Be careful. Shit splatters."

"I ought'a put a fuckin' stake through his heart."

"What the fuck does she see in him?" Ben demanded.

"It's cos' she don't fuck!" Ally wailed. "You can see how fuckin' sexy she is and she's not even trying. Seriously, I'd crawl over a mile of broken glass just to roll in her shit. Just imagine, she could have half a dozen fuck-buddies on the boil and still not do herself justice."

"Christ... just think of all that pent-up horniness. Think of the back-pressure."

"Uh huh. That poor girl's literally sitting on thousands of unused orgasms, all just waiting to go off."

"Right." Ben said, "Know what I think?"

"Do I care?"

"What Macca needs is a jolly good rogering to free up the blockage. And she'd be cured. All it would take is one little prick."

"Don't worry, I've tried."

Ben looked at Ally in surprise. "You've got a penis?"

Ally took a sip and nodded. "Uh huh, it lives in the right-hand seat most of the time. What I mean, noddy cockjaw, is I tried to set her up with my best mate."

"I thought I was your best mate."

"My other best mate. The one who isn't a dribbling fucktard. He took her out to dinner one night, got a hotel room and everything."

"How did he go?"

"She tried to convert him."

"Well that sucks."

"Especially when it was him who was meant to do the converting. You do know, don't you? When they do the do? Macca has to give up her job?"

"Uh huh." Ben nodded. "Job, travel, sport, friends-"

"Thinking!" Ally cut in. "Living! She might as well just go and throw herself under a bus. At least it'd be quicker that way. And she wouldn't have to spend the rest of her life spitting out kids."

"What's the matter with kids?" Ben glared.

"Open your fucken' ears, cock-slapper. Did I just say there was something wrong with kids? No, I didn't. I was merely referring to the long and excruciating process of childbirth. Not that that's anything you'll ever have to worry about."

"What would you know?"

"I'm a chick!"

"Yeah, but have you ever had any kids?"

"None that I know of!" Ally snorted. She raised a hand and they exchanged a boozy high-five.

Ben picked up the bottle and held it to the light, then inverted it over his glass and shook out a few lonely drops. He looked at his watch. He looked at Ally. She shrugged. "Do what you like. You're in the driver's seat tomorrow."

As if by magic, another bottle of Champagne appeared. They were still engrossed in the subject of Vicky's betrothed when she returned fresh-faced from her pit stop. Setting eyes on her, Ben flapped Ally into silence. "Shh... shh... shh... shtum! Here she comes."

Pulling up short, Vicky spied the fresh bottle of Veuve in the ice bucket and planted her fists on her hips. "Gu-uuys..."

Ally shot up, then rounded the table and threw herself down on the opposite sofa. "Come on, Macca." she patted the cushion beside her, "Come and sit with your old aunty Ally Cat." Kicking off her shoes, Ally drew her knees up, then snuggled into Vicky as she sat down.