Aurora - Way of the Goddess Pt. 06

Vicky's situational awareness was slipping and before he could help himself, Watson caught a glimpse of lime-green knickers between creamy thighs. "What a gorgeous little girl." she sighed.

"Oh go on." Ally elbowed her. "Am I really?"

"No. You're a bad girl. I was talking about Beck."

"She has her moments." Watson shrugged.

"You know, she was just telling me all about your boat."

"That's odd. She usually refers to it as hers."

"Well, actually, that's what she called it. But by golly it sounds like you live such a life of adventure."

"I could say the same about you guys." Watson replied. "I mean this all seems so incredible to me, but it's all completely normal to you, isn't it?"

Ally cocked her head. "What's so incredible about it?"

Watson nearly choked on his Champagne. "Are you kidding? French Champagne, limousines, lobbing into five star hotels. Not to mention flying around in a sixty million-dollar jet."

"It's just an aeroplane." Ben replied dryly, "Money goes in, thrust comes out... it's not rocket science."

"Not from the inside, maybe." Watson parried. "For your average punter, though, your world is like something straight out of Hollywood."

"Like us?" Ally asked, bright eyed.

"Well yeah, no, not quite. I mean the only corporate pilots I've ever seen were on TV and they were nothing like you."

"What were they like?" Ben asked, "Just out of interest."

"Oh, you know... poker-faced automatons wearing starched white shirts and Ray-Ban Aviators, with wings on their caps and broomsticks up their cloacas."

"And now you meet us." Ben breathed.

"You poor bastard." Ally said, parking an arm on Vicky's shoulder and playing with the young woman's hair. "I am so fucking sorry."

"I know, right?" Watson cried, "I mean I just don't know what's real anymore."

"Would it help if we did aviator talk?" Ally asked. "Benny-boy?"

"Roger?"

"Drink?"

"Check."

"Set?"

"Check."

"Inbound."

"Copy inbound."

"Pouring."

"Check."

"Traffic three zero zero mils bearing one eight zero at three zero centimetres. Confirm visual."

"Roger confirm."

"Clear to drink, maintain own inebriation."

"Check."

"Chook?"

"Check chook.. ch-ooook.." Ben jerked his head in imitation of a foraging chicken, "Bok, bok, bok... bok-uuurrrk!"

"You idiots!" Vicky laughed as Ben went to fill her glass. Rearing forward she put her hand over the top. "Woah, woah, woah. No more for me."

"Three glasses over three flippin' hours!" Ben said testily. "You couldn't get a mouse tipsy on that."

"Come on, party-pooper," Ally chivvied, "you'll be hitched soon. There'll be no more of this after that."

A look of desolation crossed Vicky's face like a cloud-shadow. "Oh... alright. You know you guys are a dashed bad influence."

"So you're not enjoying yourself?" Ally demanded, "Is that what you're saying?"

Vicky looked at her, startled. "No. I mean yes. I mean I'm having a fabulous time."

"Then how's it bad?"

Vicky opened her mouth to reply then sat silently frowning.

"Does it ever get boring out there?" Ben asked Watson. "I mean, travelling everywhere at, what? Four or five knots?"

"Six or seven on a good day."

"And on a bad day?"

Watson held his hand up, forefinger and thumb joined in a zero.

"You don't have an engine?"

"We do, but it's sort of just for emergencies and charging up the batteries. When you get becalmed it's best to just wait it out."

Ally took a slurp of Champagne. "How long does that take?"

"Oh... I think the longest we had was four or five days."

Ally whistled. "Five days? On a little tiny boat? In the middle of nowhere? What do you do?"

Well, they started fucking in Beck's cabin, then moved to the saloon, then in the cool of the evening they went up on deck and stayed there most of the night. Over the next few days, in between bouts of furious sex, they consumed several bottles of- what else, French Champagne- swam, fished, fucked, smoked some weed, drank some Champers, put on diving gear and hung off a rope, otherwise naked, twenty meters underwater, attempted sex but were kept too busy fending off inquisitive sharks, ate, drank, smoked a little, fucked a lot, had a diving competition off the rigging, read, wrote, drew, fished, fucked, ate, drank...

"Well?"

Watson shook himself out of his reverie. "Just read mostly. And I did some writing while Beck did some drawing. We fished a bit, just kicked back. It wasn't too bad." In fact when the wind sprang up they had a long, leisurely fuck in memoriam, then celebrated with a glass of Champagne and went on their way.

Ally took another gulp and licked her lips. "Do you ever get frightened?"

Watson looked her in the eye. "Of course I do. Don't you?"

"All the time." she replied matter-of-factly. "In fact if I don't get frightened at least once in a flight, I start to get frightened, because it means I've missed something that should have frightened me."

"Well the same here." Watson concurred, "In fact you'd have to be brain-dead not to be scared. The ocean's like the sky. It's very, very big and utterly unforgiving."

"Actually," Ben cut in, "the sky's not unforgiving. It's just indifferent. It does what it wants. And if we choose to go up there while it's doing what it wants, we have to accept the consequences. It's not there to help us and it's not there to bring us undone."

"Which is where God comes in." Vicky announced and the atmosphere went cold. "You're totally right, the phenomenal world lacks purpose or intent. It was made for us, but only He commands the elements. The only way we can navigate this hostile and capricious world is by God's grace."

"And GPS." Ben said helpfully.

"Y... yeahhh, right." Ally said, leaning forward. Picking up Vicky's glass she put it firmly in her hand. "Here, drink your lemonade, there's a good girl."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Vicky ploughed on. "We've all been in situations where we probably should have died. But here we all are, praise God. He is our shepherd, we shall not want. We'd be lost without Him, you have to admit it."

Ally screwed her face up. "He turned me into a newt!"

"Alana!" Vicky scowled, "Be serious!"

"I got better."

"That's not fair!" Vicky protested, "It's the same thing every time I try to share my beliefs. You all just shut me down, you especially."

" 'Cos we're not in-terr-rested!" Ally bridled.

"How can you not be? Haven't you ever wondered? About all this," Vicky gestured drunkenly at the plush surrounds, "how we came to be here, how we came to exist? There's no way this could have happened by accident. It's just too fantastic to have happened by chance, too complex. So that leaves God. How else do you explain it?"

"Bragg and Associates' credit account?" Ben said and Ally snorted.

Vicky crossed her arms in a huff. "Oh, you never take me seriously!"

"Have you ever come unstuck?" Ben asked Watson, switching tracks.

Vicky sat back looking miserable, arms crossed under her pretty little tits. Looking at the poor wee thing, Watson decided it was time to lay down the trump card. "Me? Personally? A couple of times. And I nearly lost Rebekah in a storm one day."

"That was careless." Ally said.

"Actually it was."

Ben looked at him, frowning. "So what happened?"

"She got knocked overboard."

"No way!"

"Normally it wouldn't have been that much of a problem. But she was unconscious at the time and didn't have a lifeline."

Vicky looked up, a hand over her mouth. "Oh that poor baby!" she breathed. "Don't keep us in suspenders, Damon, tell us the story."

It was going on for midnight by the time Watson reached the end of the tale. As predicted, Vicky had quickly shaken off her angst and joined in the excitement. "Gosh!" she breathed, then drained the last few drops of her drink, "That young lady's just incredible. You know when we were chatting she never breathed a word about this. I mean if it were me, I'd be dining out on it the rest of my days."

"Don't think you might be pushing your luck?" Ben asked, nothing if not risk-averse. "Out there on the ocean? Especially after something like that?"

Watson parked his elbows on his knees. "Well... I don't believe there was a whole lot of luck involved. You see it all comes down to initial conditions. If she'd gone overboard five minutes earlier, or five minutes later for that matter, the outcome might have been totally different. She might have had her lifeline attached. I might have had my back turned and not seen her go. In fact the outcome would have been different by a matter of seconds. I caught that lifeline with a meter to spare. If we'd been off the pace in that swim by a gnat's whisker... well... I guess we'd still be out there."

Vicky shivered. "There but for the grace of God."

"You again?" Ally said under her breath.

"Well what else could it have been? You heard him. It was nearly the end of the line, literally."

"Right!" Ally exclaimed, "Then why did he throw Beck overboard in the first place?"

"Who?"

"Your mate, god."

"What do you mean?" Vicky shook her head, confused. "He didn't."

"Really? Well who did?"

"Nobody did. She just fell in."

"Well how convenient."

"Come on, Ally. Stuff happens, you know that. We' all be out of a job if it didn't."

"But he knew, didn't he? The nasty old bastard? He knew she was gonna fall in but he just let her go. And did he fish her out again? No, Damon did. Damon had to jump into the water, in the middle of a storm in the middle of the ocean to save his little girl's life. Not god, but some poor, doddering old codger who should have had his feet up in the nursing home... no offence. Why? Was god too busy gloating over the latest war? Or was he just trying to scare the shit out of them like it was all some great big practical joke? Hmm? He could have stopped it, the asshole. Why didn't he?"

"Alana!" Vicky barked, "Don't blaspheme! And stop twisting my words! The Lord didn't make Becky fall overboard, it just happened."

"But he knew, right, cos' the creepy old perv knows everything... when you fuck, when you shit, when you masturbate. He's fuckin' omnivorous, just ask him."

"Omnivorous?" Ben snorted. "Don't you mean omnipotent?"

"Omniscient." Watson corrected, "All-knowing. A bit like Beck."

"Omnivorous," Ally gave a dismissive wave, "omnipotent, omni-bloody-docious. Fact is, if he was god, he must have known she was gonna fall in. And if he did know he could have stopped it, using an atom of that infinite power he's always bragging about."

Ben looked at his watch. "Come on, Ally, get to the point."

"Okay, I will. If god knew and he didn't stop it, he's not god, he's just a cunt-"

Vicky clamped her hands over her ears. "Alana, no! Please, God, have mercy on her."

"-and if he didn't know and couldn't, ipso facto, he's not god."

Ben raised his glass. "A-aaand... the prosecution rests."

Ally sat back, arms crossed, glaring, while Vicky floundered in search of a rebuttal.

"Just imagine." Ben said reverently, "You would have died."

Watson swallowed a mouthful of Champagne. "But we didn't. Lots of people did though. In those same few moments. They got hit by that truck when it ran a red light, died when that blood clot dislodged and no one was home. They were sitting on that plane when the wing fell off, got hit by that tree when the storm blew it over. They died in a hospital, they died in a war, popped off while they were busy pondering life's imponderables. It's all about initial conditions, just like I said. Just think... if a simple plastic bag hadn't clogged Roger's intake. If Beck and I had decided to give Wyvern a miss."

"Then we wouldn't be sitting here." Ally said.

"Exactly."

"Wondering where we'd all be instead."

"See that?" Ben crowed. "We just came full circle!"

Watson nodded approvingly. "It does dovetail nicely."

"On the subject of which." Ally said with a yawn.

"What subject?"

"Dovetail. I'm gonna get my little dovetail to bed."

"You're more dump-chicken than dove," Ben said, then yawned, "but I like the way you think. What time's brekky?"

Ally checked her watch. "Eight hours, bottle to throttle, you know the rules. Brekky at nine, off-blocks eleven."

"Eight hours?" Ben frowned, "I always thought it was eight feet."

"I'm gonna run in the morning if anyone's interested?" Vicky said, a might sullenly not that anyone noticed.

Ally stood and arched her back. "Count me out." she grunted, "I've still got that buggered calf. Take Damon. Do you run, Damon?"

"Depends who's after me."

"Did you bring any running gear?" Vicky asked hopefully. "The lake is one of my all-time faves."

Watson patted his pockets as if searching for loose change. "I... well... I've got some manky old running shoes and a pair of old boardshorts."

"That'll do." Vicky said and patted his arm. "Say, seven o'clock across the road? There's a bike path, I'll meet you there."

"I guess I can give it a shot." Watson said doubtfully. "Can't promise I'll be much competition. Ben?"

"Wanna see him run?" Ally joked, "Just yell 'Stop thief!'"

Ben shook his head. "I might... just... give that a miss... But thanks."

They wended their way in a loose scrum to the lifts, Ally and Vicky with their arms around each other, Ally's blasphemy if not forgotten, at least forgiven. The pint-sized pilot was snapping her fingers and singing at the top of her lungs, "Show me the way to go home, I'm wired and I wanna give some head, I had some French Champagne about an hour ago and I wanna spread my legs..."

Pulling up outside the lift, she summoned up a massive belch that reverberated throughout the lobby. Vicky doubled over, cackling hysterically, legs crossed to prevent an un-commanded pants-wetting.

"Can't take you anywhere." Ben rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh. It was typical behaviour.

"Can too!" Ally shot back. "Twice! The second time to apologise."

"Oh gosh..." Vicky said breathlessly as the lift doors closed over the disparaging glares of disgruntled staff, "oh gosh, you're terrible."

"Meh," Ally sniffed, brushing her fringe back in the mirror, "If they can't take a joke they shouldn't have joined."

"You're a bad woman, Alana Blake." Ben sighed.

"Hey!" Ally cranked out her hip. "You forgot to mention sexy."

"Sexy?" Ben teased. "I wouldn't touch you with a forty foot barge pole."

Vicky draped her arm over the smaller woman's shoulders. "Well I would!"

Tilting her head, Ally looked her square in the eye. "So what's stopping you?"

"There you go, Macca," Ben gave her a nudge, "you're on a promise."

Vicky looked at the floor, suddenly stricken. There she went again, skidding off the rails on the rottenness of her own sordid soul. Why did she always have to say such horrible things? Ally was a female for goodness' sake, and not of the faithful, and the thought of sinning with her was simply repugnant. Same with Beck. While the little blonde was asleep with her head in Vicky's lap, the delicious frisson of her hair between Vicky's bare thighs had made her crotch throb. After seeing Beck to her door, she'd gone back to her room to change her panties, because her 'down there' was sopping and the first pair were wet. What the heck was wrong with her?

Well she knew what was wrong. She'd been born imperfect, with a void in her soul where the devil had set up shop. Soon, praise the Lord, she would be married to a pious and temperate man, whose calm counsel and discipline would guide her through the rest of her days.

The lift bumped to a stop after a short ascent and they all spilled out, the other three blissfully oblivious to Vicky's silent anguish. "N-iiiight muthafuckahhs!" Ally sang walking away.

Ben was on her heels, heading for his room. "Poooh!" they heard him say, "Did you just drop one?"

"No." Ally replied. "Do you want me to?"

Watson set off after them, looking for room numbers, then reversed and walked smack-bang into Vicky. Her breasts collided with his chest and the hard mound of her pubic bone impacted his privates. "Oooops," she laughed nervously as they came out of a staggering clinch, "I'm this way."

"I'm this way." Watson gestured with his chin in the opposite direction.

Vicky stood in front of him, knees trembling, and hooked her hair behind an ear. "Well, it's been one hell of a day."

"Really? I've quite enjoyed it, actually."

"No, yes of course," Vicky floundered, "a poor choice of words. It's been a wonderful day, absolutely unforgettable. Okay. Now. Bed. Maybe I'll see you at seven for a run?"

"I look forward to it." Watson looked around nervously, then cleared his throat. "Vicky? I mean Macca? Would it be okay if I gave you a kiss? You've done so much for us, organising everything. That wallet is absolutely beautiful."

Vicky squirmed restively, wrestling with a quandary. "What? I... Oh... Yes, of course, that would be lovely."

Eyes closed, she puckered-up. That luscious mouth with those big pillowy lips was nigh-on irresistible, but Watson pecked her chastely on each cheekbone instead. Vicky opened her eyes, blushing, and touched her face. "Gosh. Damon. Thank you."

"No. Thank you. You're an amazing young woman, Vicky. Everything Tanya says about you is true."

"Like what?"

"Well, that you're hard working and meticulous, clever, efficient, and thoughtful-"

"Oh..." Vicky said, crestfallen,

"-and of course incredibly beautiful."

"Tan said that?"

"And much more."

"Oh, go on." Vicky blushed, "Now you're just teasing."

"Give me a bible. I'll swear on it."

There was a long, loaded pause, Vicky staring at the floor for the duration. "Well..." she turned and almost fell off her platforms. "Ooops! Time for bed. Thanks for a lovely night, Damon. See you in the a.m."

"Can't wait." Watson nodded, desperately wanting to hold her. "Good night, Macca, sweet dreams."