Please be Waiting, Chapter Two

Soon a pair of sisters were in each other’s arms. Carmilla had once decried Phoenix as a traitor to The Four Heroes’ cause, and although this was not wholly unreasonable since Phoenix engineered that deception herself, there had been prior harshness and accusation too for which reconciliation never came. Now however, as Carmilla and Phoenix held one another close, their peace was finally made.

Also present was Dr. James Neetkins, and Phoenix Prime with her wings of flame, and the clone 4-H-N, and in a mobile life-support unit the unconscious body of Dylan. This biological and synthetic extended family was gathered at the launch-pad of one of Nottingham’s old planetary evacuation starships, co-ordinates already laid-in for the Toothfire warp-gate. A message informing Professor Iskira Neetkins of the party’s plans had been duly transmitted to the Martian Capital City, and she had confirmed in response she would shuttle to them and rendezvous in Mars-orbit. Then together they would pass through the portal among the many homebound craft and begin a new quest in a distant galaxy.

“After a’ that Dylan did fuir us and the warrld, we dinnae need any other reason fuir this wee trip than tae find the cure they’ve got in that sector that’ll bring him back tae us,” James declared, putting a comforting arm round the shoulders of both Phoenix and Phoenix Prime. “But as it happens, we’ve got a second reason tae go a’ the same. One o’ the clan, although she was here when it counted, I understand is still lost oot there. So we save Dylan, and we find Neetra. We’re kith and kin. Setting things right is doon tae us a’.”

James paused.

“All o’ us,” he continued, though a certain heaviness had now fallen upon his tone. “For if Iskira has made Mendelssohn a part o’ her life again, then he’s every right tae be by her side. I cannae rightly tell how it’s gonnae work oot, haeing him alang wi’ us. But it’s something we’re all gonnae have tae get used tae, and find it in oorselves tae respect the decision Iskira’s made.”

His voice stayed steady throughout, but the others knew how much these sentences had cost, and felt for him.

Carmilla had brought with her one of the male Mini-Flashes, Flashthunder, who had been last to see Neetra in his home galaxy and was keen to contribute any information that might help the family in their search. Now he proceeded to relate his news, addressing James, for command-structures were important in The Flash Club and this human seemed to him most like the leader.

“Your daughter was wonderful to me, Doctor, even and perhaps especially when I was terrified or harmed, which was most of the time,” Flashthunder said very seriously. “I don’t mind telling you that when she went away I was extremely afraid for the future of our whole Flash Club, although those particular fears have proved to be ill-founded. And, um, on a personal note, I do rather miss her too,” he finished in something of a fluster.

James smiled wryly. Though this Flashthunder was from a far-off planet, and appeared to be wearing a miniskirt, he was otherwise no different to any lad his age in his ineptitude at keeping feelings like those a secret. Not that James had been any better in his own younger days, and hearing it again now he supposed was all part and parcel of being proud father to just so many pretty girls.

“But, um, here’s the point,” Flashthunder pressed on hastily. “If this means anything to you while you’re tracking her down. She’s going wherever Joe is. So, I suppose, you should look for him if you want to find her. Neetra told me she knew all about Gala, but that it didn’t matter. In spite of everything, Joe was still the only one for her. I guess that’s just how Neetra loves,” Flashthunder concluded, and in a quiet way was as brave as he’d ever been.

These words struck a chord with each listener. Carmilla slipped her arm into her father’s, and her eyes were bright.

“Of all us Neetkins sisters, Dad, she’s the one who most takes after Mum,” said Carmilla confidentially. “Wait and see. Things might just turn out alright after all.”

And James touched her hand, as he returned the smile of his ever-so-slightly psychic firstborn.

Flashthunder was going to ride back with his fellow Mini-Flashes, so meekly imparting all his best for a safe and pleasant journey he tiptoed off. Soon afterwards the Neetkins exodus was embarked, their cone-shaped ship tracking vertically into the yonder on a bright lengthening contrail that dimmed to dusty gold. Dylan and his guardians were safely bound for parts unknown.

Back on the Nottingham street a girl watched quiet and alone, her roller-skates locked. Once already Kumiko had volunteered to step aside like this, and tasted the pain that was attendant on the gesture. Then however, Phoenix had generously taken her place, granting her a last hour with he they both loved. Perhaps because of this, when the time came for the lasting separation Kumiko had found she was able to face it without so much as a sigh. It was right. What was ahead for Dylan had to be left to Phoenix now.

Finally the girl broke her hush, by inquiring aloud to the apparently empty street:

“Plans so far not gone beyond a bit of brooding in the shadows, then?”

From out of the nearby rubble obligingly emerged a bronzed brawny man with sun-bleached hair and a crimson velvet cloak. He was smiling. Kumiko’s estimation of D’Carthage’s conduct would at one time have been accurate, but today was meant only in jest, for his long affected silences and grandiloquent orations were a thing of the past. In the mild pleasant tones D’Carthage had since adopted, he replied:

“Merely was I lost in reckoning, fair one. The gross and scope of it is that I may be the last of those who once esteemed themselves the Next Four. At any rate, the cause that led us to this time and place is, be it for better or worse, played out beyond all question. Though I am fated one day to return to hearth and wife in the Second Dark Advent, as I yet I know not when that day shall dawn. It was my thought that perchance I had reason for sorrow.”

He smiled to Kumiko kindly.

“But a warrior-maid, blessed with beauty and skill, in the prime of her youth?” D’Carthage continued. “What knows she of some vagrant actor in need of a friend?”

Kumiko gave him a grateful smile in return. The fates that had thrown this pair together during the invasion of Nottingham had gone on to leave each of them at rather a loose end now. Something else they shared was that both were out of their own time, he the past and she the future, in this present which seemed to have met them halfway.

“I have visited the island of your people, as it was in my era,” D’Carthage informed Kumiko. “Thus should I count it a rare honour to learn more of the Ryo-Hashiro’s formidable arts.”

“You’ve got a son,” she responded, assessing the handsome D’Carthage with her eye. “Right now I’d be very interested in learning more about him!”

So saying Kumiko kicked her wheels for a spin and she and D’Carthage set off side-by-side, stranded and content in an epoch of exploits and capers and scrapes which both trusted they could have endless fun getting into together.

Muscle-bound Bendigo scuttered up the gangplank and deposited Iskira Neetkins’s suitcases, then hastened back down the ramp. Beside Dr. Irwin Mendelssohn in the Martian shuttle-port, the Professor herself looked starwards through a slowly opening launch-bay as her locks of purple hair blew about her in the idling rocket-exhaust. Iskria’s imminent future involved more reunions, not least with her daughter Phoenix Prime in whose presence she had not stood since soon after the latter’s birth. Another meeting of equal import, with a long-estranged husband, likewise lay in store, and Iskira shared much of that one’s apprehension as to how her present relationship would be received on the journey to come.

She drew in a deep breath, and sighed. “Irwin,” Iskira began, “I know this is the right thing to do…”

“There is no question of that, Iskira,” Dr. Mendelssohn told her firmly. “This time of healing and rebuilding is long overdue. Phoenix Prime badly needs the guidance of both her parents after her many angry years. She also longs for redemption, and can only find it when she has used the advanced medical technology of that other sector to revive Dylan Cook from the injury she inflicted. And he, in his love for her clone Phoenix, may already be part of your family – a family that must be made whole again, via all these means and finally through bringing Neetra back into the fold.”

Mendelssohn paused. Neither of his listeners seemed to have gathered where he was going with this. He had anticipated as much from Bendigo, but for Iskira’s sake it was necessary for the Doctor to place both his hands on her upper arms, and explain to her:

“That is why you will board that shuttle alone.”

Iskira’s purple eyes became huge. “But…but, Irwin…!” she stammered, still not fully comprehending.

“You love him,” Dr. Mendelssohn said softly. “Perhaps I always knew as much, even from the very beginning, and perhaps all these decades since I have somehow merely needed to be sure. A scientist to the last, it seems. But when we were together, Iskira, I knew. Your heart belonged with Neetkins. You cannot tell me this is not so.”

Iskira, though the tears were welling up, could not. She lowered her gaze from his in acceptance.

“Your love for him, your love for the family you built together, and the chance that this might endure,” Mendelssohn went on. “That is precious, Iskira. That is worth fighting for. Our two lives can never amount to as much. Not this illusion of love, this pretence. Not when you have known what love truly is, and there remains the prospect of your finding it again. Turn from this now, and the day will come when you bitterly repent the decision.”

“Irwin, what of you?” Iskira sobbed, seizing his hands in hers. “I am little deserving of your love, but do not attempt to convince me in turn you feel nothing for me now. So, although everything you say is true, what of your heart? And how can I, in good conscience…?”

But Mendelssohn stopped her, and tenderly wiped a tear from her silver cheek. All he would say of his own heart was:

“I have not been a credit to my profession, Iskira. But any good lecturer knows when to let his student go.”

After which there could be no more than a last tearful embrace, and then the shuttle was climbing into the stars while two men looked on from portside below.

“Doctor, I understand nothing of what I have just witnessed,” Bendigo declared grandly. “For it seems to me that the courage you have shown this day, the pain you have braved and the sacrifice made, somehow exceeds the mightiest feat of martial prowess exhibited even by a warrior of my unsurpassed daring and skill.”

Mendelssohn smiled, as he watched the last lights of Iskira’s vessel vanish amid the twinkling eternities.

“Bendigo, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” said he.

END OF CHAPTER TWO