Centaurian Ch. 02

"After everything I've witnessed so far, you could have told me you were from a planet around Alpha Centauri, and I would have believed you. What have you done since you awoke?"

"Meditate and cuddle with you, which was lovely, by the way. So, should I call you Liam, Phillips, or would you want to keep it professional and have me call you Officer?"

"You steal cuddles, and now you ask whether I want to keep it professional?"

Ronan laughed. "Actually, you cuddled up to me in your sleep and held my dick in your hand most of the night, but you slept so soundly, I hadn't wanted to awaken you."

Liam laid back on the pillow, covered his face with his hands, and laughed. "I'm so sorry! That's embarrassing. Please, call me Liam." He thought about the strangeness of it all. "I don't really know you; why do I trust you so much?"

"Because you want to. And you already know why you want to."

They sat there staring at one another for a long moment.

"Yeah," whispered Liam. "I guess I do. So, do you know what you look like, or are you just as curious as me?"

"I'm pretty curious myself."

Liam left the bed and opened his closet door which had a mirror on the back. Ronan moved to the side of the bed, and Phillips could see the hair trailing off the bottom of an extraordinary eight-pack of abdominals, but when he pulled the covers away to stand, he could see the hair covering each proportionally muscular leg to a distinct line just beneath his iliac furrow and down the crevice between the leg and the groin area. He stood slowly to his full height and looked down at himself. He had no pubic hair or hair on his penis and scrotum at all. And the tattoo on his oblique had finished; it was of a centaur.

Ronan hefted the smooth, foot-long hunk of flaccid meat in his hand. "Henri told me it would be centaur-like, but I had no idea. And not being a full centaur, I can't pull this back into my body."

Liam stared at it in disbelief. "Just so you know, I have expertise as a snake wrangler."

Ronan's forehead furrowed. "Are you really a snake wrangler?"

"In my time as a police officer, I've caught and relocated quite a few snakes. Many of the guys won't do it, so they tend to call me. I'm certainly not afraid of your python, and I can think of a few choice locations to put it."

"Is it not too big?"

Liam slowly shook his head staring at it. "It's perfect."

"It doesn't bother you that I'm part centaur?"

Liam shrugged. "What part of you is really centaur? You're just the most beautiful man I've ever seen."

"I appreciate your saying that. In this form, physiologically, I'm human in appearance, but I am half Chiron, and he was half equine. That makes me one-fourth equine, but just as a flame can change its shape, I can change form to a kind of bipedal centaur, like a satyr or faun."

"I would love to see you change shape."

"That's part of the more that I talked about, and from Chiron's memories, I know that the first time tapping into that power comes with a serious irreversible consequence. It was a line the others would not cross. I see now why Henri couldn't tell me about it."

"Why couldn't he?"

"They could never tell because the knowledge of it could make agreeing to replace them too alluring for power-hungry people or make the idea of having access to such a power too aversive for most anyone good."

"What kind of power is it?"

"A power too strong to contemplate and too terrifying to wield lightly. That's all I can say."

"I see. Hold on a sec..." He retrieved the scales from his bathroom and set them in front of the mirror.

"You want to guess?" asked Ronan.

He looked Ronan up and down. "Mmm...260."

He stepped onto the scales, and it read 265 pounds.

"I would have guessed it perfectly, but I forgot to take into account the 5 pounds of Centaurian appendage."

"Well, it's close enough without going over, right?" He stepped off the scales and slid them to the side. "I'm so huge. I weigh about forty pounds more than I expected, so that's Chiron's doing. He hadn't done that with the others, but I have no memory for why he would choose that on this occasion."

As Ronan faced the mirror, Liam could see the completed STALLION tattoo, shoulder to shoulder, and the hairless skin of his wide back, but the thick dark hair covering his legs and buttocks began with a distinct line from the iliac furrow at his sides toward the sacrum at his spine. On anyone else, it would appear too perfect to be natural, but on Ronan, it must be.

"Did you intend your body hair to be like that? You have no pubic hair.

"It's because I'm part centaur. From what I could tell, Henri was the same way. In the front, as a full centaur, where my pubic hair would begin is a transition point, where the equine part of me would have pectorals and the penis would be toward the back, so since I'm not fully centaur, it left off what would have been my pubic hair." He looked himself in the mirror. "I like it. So, how tall do you think I am?"

"Umm...I would say you look about 19 and a half hands high."

Ronan laughed to himself and did some quick math. "So, 6 feet 6 inches." He turned to Liam. "I want you to know that I appreciate the help you've given me, and if you want to stop helping me at any point for any reason, it's okay. I will understand."

"I will help you for as long as your needs coincide with my ability."

"That's kind of you, thank you."

"I need breakfast," said Phillips. "Are you hungry?"

"Well..."

"You do eat, right?"

"I can, but I only look human. I don't have to sleep, or eat, or drink, or go to the bathroom. I don't even have to breathe or blink my eyes. Apparently, some habits are just too integrated to break, but I needed to simulate breathing so I can speak like you do. Can you cope with that thought?"

"But you have a heartbeat, a readable blood pressure, and a normal body temperature."

"Those are real but simulated, and they serve a purpose. Those things are for me, not for others. People don't realize it because they've had it for a lifetime, but if suddenly you were alive without a relatively stable, normal body temperature, or had no sensation of a heartbeat and the ability to passively sense the blood coursing through you, you would not be able to tolerate the silence of your own body; it would be maddening. It would be like you were dead, but not dead."

Liam placed his hand on his chest. "Am I sensing the blood coursing through me?"

"You may not realize you sense it, but if it suddenly stopped, you would recognize its absence immediately. So, can you cope with how I am?"

Ronan stood in silence for almost a minute while watching Liam scan his every feature and movement.

"Those things don't matter to me. I just know that the opportunity to remain in your company would please me enormously. Let's make your Centaurian appendage street-legal, we'll drop by my favorite smoothie place, and then we'll find you some clothing that actually fits."

"I need to meet up with a friend. He has my money, identification, and other necessities."

"Who? And how can you have identification? You just came into existence yesterday."

"I met him through Prometheus. He's quite adept at making identification, and whatever else I might need that isn't quite on the up and up."

"It's illegal?"

"What do you expect, Liam? I can't just trot off to the DMV and ask for a driver's license."

"I understand that, but I'm a police officer!"

"If I ever abuse it, you're welcome to arrest me. I promise not to buy alcohol for anyone underage."

"Did you have a driver's license in your previous life?"

"I don't know; I'm sure I did."

"How can you not know?"

"Because those memories are gone now."

"You have no memories of your life before? Why?"

"They would intrude and hinder my ability to accept who I am now. But don't worry, if you ran the IDs, you would discover they're completely legal."

"How can that be?"

"Because Dolos is thorough."

"So, they're registered." Liam walked into his closet. "This, I will have to see." He brought out the navy and black pair of "long shorts" he had on him the day before. "I washed this yesterday afternoon along with everything else. They're mediums, but the elastic is pretty forgiving."

"What about underwear to rein in the Centaurian appendage?"

"I have nothing that would fit you. This will have to do until we get something more appropriate."

"What will we do, go to a discount store?"

"We could, but I know of a store that's perfect for your needs."

Ronan had slipped a leg into the shorts. "It's not some equestrian tack shop, is it? Because I'll tell you right now, this stallion will not be broken."

"No, smarty pants, it's a proper clothing store. I've shopped there for myself many times."

He popped a few stitches squeezing them over his hips and muscular ass, but once he had they slid right on.

"Those shorts aren't supposed to fit tight, but they look fine that they do. I told you that you had a major bootie. If the store I have in mind doesn't work, we'll just go to a sporting goods store, but I want to avoid that if we can."

"It would be a good place to buy a jockstrap."

"You'll never find one with a stallion-sized pouch. The store I have in mind sells underwear from the only company I know that caters to the undergirding needs of the...aah...supportively challenged. So, trust me on this, I know what I'm doing. Where will we meet this friend? Do you need to contact them and set up a time?"

"I just have to be outdoors, say his name, and he'll show up."

"Really?"

"Dolos is a god. He'll hear me."

"A god...like Zeus and Apollo."

"Dolos isn't one of the Olympians. He's the son of a much older deity."

"I see, so he's Old Money. Well, whatever you decide, don't call his name downstairs in the parking lot. Mrs. Novak in apartment 3 has a terminal case of Gladys Kravitz syndrome." Liam dug into a drawer for an A-shirt and found a white one. "Here, try this on. It says it's large, but it's oversized on me, so it might fit, but no guarantees. I may have to cut it, and that's fine; I have plenty."

Slipping it over his head, Liam helped pull it down, but the seams around the neck and arms were too tight.

"Hold on, let me get the scissors." He returned with a pair from the kitchen. Sliding the scissor blade between his pecs, he cut the middle of the collar several inches, and under each arm on the sides to split the seams. After that, it fit fine for the time being.

"I look like shit in this, don't I?" Ronan asked.

"Are you kidding? You could make bin bags look sexy."

He gave him the pair of house shoes to wear. They barely fit, but he could wear them for a while. Liam wore a pair of tan linen shorts with a sky-blue A-shirt beneath a white short-sleeve button-up left untucked and open.

The moment Ronan stood in the breezeway outside Liam's door, he looked around and saw that no one could see. "Dolos," he said, and down the staircase from above came a bearded and swarthy-looking man in his thirties wearing a white suit holding two 40-liter-sized traditional duffel bags in leather, one in black and one in brown. Ronan waved him into the apartment and closed the door behind him.

"Hello, Ronan," said Dolos. "I've been wandering around Miami. I see why Henri wanted to live here."

"Liam Phillips, please meet Dolos, the god of trickery and deception. Dolos, this is Liam, my friend and protector."

"Pleased to meet you," said Liam.

"Any friend of Ronan's is a friend of mine," said Dolos who squinted at Ronan looking him up and down. "What are you wearing?"

"We are making do with what we have."

"Making do..." Dolos laughed and shook his head. "Here..." He gave Ronan the brown bag which had a Centaurian archer embossed into a leather tag stitched onto the side. "It has everything Henri asked me to hold for you, and it has everything you needed of me, including clothing. So, you can change out of that embarrassment before anyone else sees you. And Liam, although your attire is a marginal improvement, this is for you. It has everything you could want or need. Don't thank me now, wait until you've browsed its contents and then thank me. I will hear you.

"You know, Ronan," said Dolos, "Prometheus could easily forgive the others for not using their abilities because they came from a far less sophisticated era; you do not have that luxury, especially with Zeus sending Henri's son after you. Zeus wants to know what you can do, and just how vulnerable you are...or aren't."

"So, Zeus had caused Henri to have the child. Henri believed he outlived him. I thought I could feel a presence here. He's in Miami."

He nodded. "His original name is Aquila, but he's now known as Elias Adrianus, and your ability to feel his presence is because he carries a spark of the fire within you, and they're connected. Prometheus told me that Zeus had Kakia visit Aquila yesterday, and that seductive goddess of immorality and all-around badness has convinced him of an easy means to get what he wants. He believes he needs to kill you so he can die, and she gave him a Chronosian blade for the job."

"What's that?" asked Ronan.

"You are bound by an eternal flame. Eternity is a temporal construct involving duration, so the blade will destroy the flame by removing its eternality; an instantaneous flame can have no real existence."

"Wouldn't that create a paradox?" asked Liam.

Dolos smiled. "It's so refreshing to talk to you modern humans; I don't have to explain so much or assume you wouldn't understand. It would create a paradox if it removed its eternality from all time, but it doesn't, it begins from the point the blade pierces Ronan's skin by temporally snuffing it out."

"Can it pierce my skin?"

"That's a question I can't answer, and neither can anyone else. No one even knows if what they're attempting will work. As human scientists like to say, it's a hypothesis; one that Zeus is putting to the test. But I'm not sure that Zeus wants you dead; I think he wants to create conditions so dire that it will force you to use the power within you. He wants to see what you can do.

"Why doesn't Aquila just use the blade on himself?" Liam asked.

"Unlike everyone else, he is not independent. He owes his perpetual existence to the flame that binds Ronan and Chiron, and he can only die if he destroys Ronan's flame. Apart from him though, it can destroy anyone whose skin it can pierce by turning their future into an instantaneous blip. And that also includes yourself, Liam, so be on your guard.

"I know that Aquila stayed at the Cerulean Sea Hotel last night. I sent him a little pink card to distract him and signed it with Kakia's preferred nickname. Zeus's plan only works if Aquila wants to die. I figure, he's been an unhappy man for a long time, I'm hoping a new experience will help to change things, and perhaps he might see that living isn't such a terrible thing."

"Just a spark has kept Aquila alive all these centuries?" asked Ronan.

"Yes, so imagine what you can do with the full flame."

"But isn't fire just a destructive force?" Liam asked.

"From a human perspective," said Dolos, "fire destroys forests and things humans create, so it's viewed as destructive, but there's something more profound happening. Normal fire doesn't destroy, it's a conversion process. It mindlessly changes things from one form into another. Prometheus believes Ronan is an eternal flame given sentience, a fire that burns in such a unique way that it can willfully create by converting one thing into something else, and that's just the beginning of what he believes Ronan may be capable."

Liam turned to Ronan. "You said using the power just once would have a consequence; what is it?"

"Once he uses it," said Dolos, "there will be no turning back. The eternal flame remains transferable only until a Centaurian uses it. At that point, it has found its permanent home. That's why finding a good man for a replacement has been so crucial.

Liam asked Dolos. "If Ronan uses the power, what would he become? It sounds like he would be a god."

"That's how it sounds to me too, but no one knows, not even Prometheus in his prescience. Ronan doesn't know what he is, what he can do, or whether he can control it if he uses it.

"In that case, Ronan," said Liam, "you need me more than I thought. If Zeus wants to know what Ronan can do so badly, why doesn't he just challenge him directly?"

"When royalty fears the food, they get servants to taste it first, only then will they decide if it's a meal fit for a king."

"Oh, I see," said Liam. "Well, Ronan, if this Aquila person is in Miami, then we should leave."

"I agree with the warrior," said Dolos. "It may only delay the inevitable, but it gives you time to think about what to do. The last thing you need is for Aquila to show up while unprepared."

"Won't they just tell him where to find me?"

"Probably. So, wherever you go, don't stay too long, unless you lay in wait of him. You should abandon this location soon."

"If we flew somewhere, wouldn't Zeus just knock the plane from the sky?" asked Ronan.

"I can't imagine why he would bother. You would only survive it, and it wouldn't give him what he wants. He has no reason to lift any more fingers. He has a man willing to travel anywhere to find you, and he has the resources to do it."

"Why does Aquila want to die so badly?" Liam asked.

"The difference between Ronan and Aquila is one of choice. Ronan chose this, but Aquila had immortality thrust upon him at birth, and for him—or anyone in his situation (even a god) —the price of forever is too high if you have no one with which to share it. Prometheus understands that, and that's why the other stallions had only one thousand years, and Ronan has-"

"That's enough beans being spilled for one day, I think," Ronan interrupted.

Dolos paused staring at Ronan for a moment and gave a little smile. "Very well, I must go, anyway. This morning I have my first genuine Cuban coffee followed by my first genuine Cuban. Yesterday, I met an exquisitely handsome man named Eterio at the nude beach."

"Oh well, don't let us keep you, Dolos," said Ronan as he walked him to the door. "Thank you for your assistance. You are, as always, a deceptively bright spot in any friend's day, and I hope you enjoy your Cuban!"

The moment the door closed behind Dolos, Liam asked, "And Ronan has...what?"

"Much to do. That's what."

Liam laid his bag on the dining room table. "If Dolos is the god of deception and trickery, how can we believe anything he says?"

"Oh, even he would admit that's a fair question," said Ronan as he set his bag beside Liam's. "He and Prometheus are trickster gods, but they're not bad. Prometheus made humanity and wants humans to do well. He gave them fire, and that resulted in all the technology that came after it. Dolos is Prometheus's apprentice. Together, they have been helpful to humanity and especially to those stallions who came before me. Besides, it gives Dolos opportunities to use his amazing imagination and abilities for a noble cause." He pushed at the bag in front of Liam. "Here, open it."

Liam took the bag and unzipped it from the left. "Hey! This is like the clothing from that store I wanted to take you to." He pulled out a white, tailored Oxford shirt. The bag held an entire suit of clothes, jeans, socks, a pair of underwear, a belt, and a shoe bag containing a pair of coordinating shoes.

"Is that acceptable?" asked Ronan.

"It's perfect."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like something different?"

"There's nothing else in the bag."

"Oh, really?" Ronan zippered the bag. "Look again."

Liam opened the bag, and inside was an entirely different suit of clothing. "How is that possible?"