CHAPTER 7  “The Decision”

Thursday  21 July 2811 

I lay there trying to determine whether I was still in one piece as debris settled in the chaotic scene. Through the thick dust I could see customers rushing about, but I heard nothing but a roaring in my ears.

Caleb picked me up and we went through the kitchen area and out the service entrance into an alley. He broke into a run past the dumpsters while carrying me like a big toy that he refused to share. He opened the back door to a SportPavilion store, went through a passage on the left, and down a flight of stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, he punched in a code on a number pad and pushed open the door. It was a service subway station. Caleb put me down, keyed something on another number pad mounted on the wall next to a freight elevator, turned back toward me, and said something that I could not hear.

We spent the next few minutes picking little cubes of glass out of our clothes and from Caleb’s hair. There were numerous small tears in Caleb’s shirt and pants. Except for my left leg – where there were minor nicks – Caleb had apparently shielded me from the flying glass. Caleb produced more moist wipes (from nowhere) that we used to blot the drops of blood oozing from the cuts we suffered.

When the service car arrived, Caleb rolled a trash bin onto its flat surface and made me sit down next to it. He then selected a destination on the service car screen and sat down next to me. The car accelerated slowly rumbled slowly through dingy tunnels. Several long minutes later, the car stopped at another service platform. Caleb escorted me onto the platform, rolled the trash bin over to a whole platoon of trash bins arranged on the platform, and led me through a door next to the freight elevator.

We descended several flights of stairs before opening another door. We were in a pedestrian tunnel of the Green Manor Subway Station. People walking by paid no special attention to our emerging through an unmarked door, so we simply joined them and soon were whisked eastward on the 5E subway train.  Every minute or so I had to blot the back of Caleb’s head to keep the blood from dripping on the subway seats.

At Gumpers Square, Caleb took my hand and we left the train. We rode the escalator up to the street and walked out into a quiet neighborhood with the sky glowing the last blush of dusk. In silence we walked several blocks to Caleb’s apartment building. He and Nooshan had a modest flat on the third floor that was thankfully well-stocked with bandages.

As I lay on his living room floor, Caleb dabbed on glops of antibiotic and covered the worst nicks on the back of my left leg with bandages. Next, he removed his shirt and trousers and I treated his cuts.

He then stood, turned around, firmly grabbed my shoulders, and sternly broke the silence. “¿Esty, what the fuck is going on? I was kidding about assassinating Santa Claus and being stalked by a hit man but … but … something tells me that I wasn’t too far wrong. ¿What shit are you involved in?”

“I’m sorry. Caleb, I’m so sorry. I could have gotten you killed and … and…” I couldn’t get any more words out as my voice broke and I cried fitfully.

Caleb put his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. I let the tears of terror and of relief flow from my eyes and onto the front of Caleb’s chest. Then came the shivering; an uncontrollable shivering where my knees shook and my teeth chattered against each other.

“C’mon girl. Let’s get you comfortable.”

Caleb picked me up and cradled me gently as he carried me into his bedroom and, while supporting me with only one arm, pulled back the duvet. As he laid me gently on the bed, my shivering only got worse. He covered me with the soft bedding and gently commanded, “Bed, warm level 7.” The immediate warmth did nothing to quench my shaking; if anything, it grew more vigorous. I curled into a fetal position; it seemed to help a little. Then I knew what I needed.

“Caleb. Hold me. Hold me tight.”

He folded the covers back, sat next to me, and scooped me up and onto his lap. Caleb’s arms enveloped me and squeezed firmly. My shivers gave one last strong convulsion and began to abate. Minutes later the last of the shivering eased away and fatigue set in. Caleb read me perfectly, put me back under the duvet, and told the bed to drop to level 3. He kissed me lightly on my forehead and left me in his darkened bedroom.


“Esty. Wake up. I heated up some tomato soup for us.” He was standing next to the bed holding two steaming mugs.

We sat side-by-side on the bed as we sipped our soup in silence. I put my left arm around his waist, and he scooted up close to me. He felt strong; he felt sexy. I could feel my private parts grow warm. 

“Caleb.” I paused. ¿Would you sleep next to me tonight?”

“Uh. I don’t exactly sleep in pajamas.”

My crotch responded to that news with a slight burning feeling and wetness.

“Well, at least wear some undershorts. ¿Is there a towel in the bathroom I can use? I want to take a shower.”

“C’mon. I’ll get you one.”

He led me to the bathroom, opened a linen drawer, gave me a large thick beige towel, and retreated back to the bedroom.

As I showered, my resolve to follow through with having sex vacillated crazily. While drying off with the heavy towel, I glanced at myself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Finally, I faced the mirror, held the towel to one side, regarded my naked reflection, and told myself, “Estrella Rita Ramirez, you are going to do this.” I wrapped the towel around me, opened the bathroom door, and walked into the bedroom to find Caleb lying covered and watching me approach.

“Lights level one,” I told the room as I let the towel slide to the floor. I climbed into the bed until I was kneeling next to Caleb, took his head in my hands, and kissed him full on the lips.


The sex itself had been a bit clumsy and a bit painful, as I had been like stressed out about ‘doing it.’ Back when I helped him pull off his undershorts I almost chickened out; seeing his huge penis made my stomach do a sickening flip. There seemed to be no way that thing could fit inside of me without serious damage. But it was done and not without arousal and pleasure. It came as no surprise that I didn’t experience an orgasm; I wasn’t really expecting that level of eroticism for my first time, but I guess I sort of hoped. I was mainly glad that my first lover, and possibly my last, was so kind and gentle.

Lying against Caleb as he sleeps – soft warm flesh against soft warm flesh – is an overwhelmingly luxurious, sensual, and sexy experience. I inhaled his smells, felt the texture of his skin, and listened to his intermittent snoring. Finally, I rose, went to the bathroom, cleaned off a few smears of dried semen, and lazily regarded my image in the mirror. It was just the same old me in the reflection – seemingly unchanged.

Back in the living room, I found my bag, dug out my e-pad, unfolded it, and flattened it against a wall.  I told it, “star chart, no labels.” After some minutes of moving the perspective around – gazing upon Earth from various distances, visiting Mars, and retreating to the Oort Cloud to look back toward home – I rotated the view toward Scorpio and peered at the twinkling stars, New Sol among them. 

Friday 22 July 2811

The sound of the ringing alarm was all wrong. ¿Where the fuck am I? Caleb rolled over and shut the alarm off. Reality and memory meshed pleasingly as he rolled back to me and we held each other close.

Between kisses I asked, “¿How much time … do we have before you … need to rescue … Castor’s next victim?” 

“Enough.” 


I gave Caleb one last kiss before he rushed out the door. I put on a robe I found and proceeded to rummage around in his kitchen for something to eat. I found a packaged quiche and heated it up. I finished the quiche, finished scanning the news on my e-pad about the “unexplained explosion” that caused minor injuries, and then told my e-pad to call Dr. Blackwell.

I heard Benny answer with, “Hello Estrella.”

“Dr. Blackwell, the answer is yes.”


Chapter 8: African Home
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