My Angel of the Dawn (WomanxBoy, ManxBoy, Sci-Fi + Romance)

***27***

The boy didn't answer her joke with a smile. He was thoughtful, as if pondering over something. He kept silent for a while and then asked, "Mistress Nelsa, may I ask a personal question?"

"Shoot. I'm tipsy enough to blurt out anything. But I must warn you, I'll be fervently denying it in the morning." Nelsa's tone was cheerful, but inwardly she'd tensed. She had an idea what the boy was going to ask, and he proved her right.

"Have you ever... fallen in love?"

"But of course," Nelsa said, nonchalant. "It was a passionate love at first sight. I was ready to do anything for him, even to hand over all my dolls to him. I was five years old, and he was seven, I believe. When I learned he wanted neither my dolls nor my love, I wept for hours. My heart was shattered to pieces forever."

The boy looked at her for several moments, puzzled. Then his lips trembled, he turned away and said in a dull voice, "I'm sorry, that was a stupid question."

"No offence, Ariel, but this is clearly a case of too much information."

"You would never let anyone near you, is it right?" he said quietly.

Why, aren't we quoting Nergan now. Maybe he wasn't talking nonsense after all. The age of nineteen, the hormones, the romanticism. No fool like a young one, to put it mildly. But he is a smart boy for his age, he could figure out on his own that you are so not going to be his substitute family. You are his captain, not his mommy, not his life partner. You should dispel his illusions at once.

"Any attachment is a weakness, Ariel," she remarked philosophically. "I aim to have no weaknesses. Tell you the truth, I had never even had any dolls as a child."

Well, you had never had any dolls as a child for another reason entirely. No real dolls — the ugly things made of straw and mommy's torn stockings don't count. Of course, later you had been showered with dolls — exquisite hand-made porcelain beauties dressed in silk and brocade. But even a complete idiot would understand it's not the same, not the same at all...

"I will always help you with advice or something, feel free to use my expertise. You have no one, and that makes me some kind of your legal guardian. But the truth is you need another thing entirely. You need friends, a girlfriend. You need a life. Look at Nergan's guys, they have a wife or a girlfriend in every spaceport. You should learn how to pick up girls in canteens, that's not a rocket science."

"As of yet I'm only getting picked up myself," Ariel said with a heavy sigh. "Maybe you'll use your expertise to explain why men are always hitting on me. Do I resemble a girl so much?"

Nelsa gave him a careful once-over, trying her best to be impartial. "Why, hardly at all, Master Ariel Dominique. You won't resemble a girl even with a make-up on and in woman's clothes. Let's see. Young, well-built, regular features, full mouth... Then again, your hair, it's long and attracts attention..."

"I could cut it short!" he chimed in readily.

"Don't. Now you can tie it back in a ponytail or a queue and forget it. Otherwise it's pain in the ass regularly cropping it close as I do, to get it out of the way. Besides, a crew cut won't suit you. OK, what's next? You have dark eyelashes and eyebrows, with you being blonde it's a contrast, attracts attention. Beautiful eyes, bright and friendly. Regular features, yes, but you aren't some cold statue, you are full of life, easy to notice, hard to forget. Moreover, you carry yourself with dignity and all. Had it been you who had been throwing yourself at them, they would run away quickly. At least Nergan's type. Others might just start to chase you."

Ariel gave up another heavy sigh.

"What else did you expect?" Nelsa grinned a joyless grin. "That's a male world with male laws. Screw everything that moves, and you are golden. There are not a lot of women here — I mean colleagues, not whores. They all keep together: all-female crews and ships, separate canteens, even their separate routes. You and I are a rarity on Cendar — one of the only three mixed-sex crews, the other two being the Ishtar and the Tamoe. And they don't have our neat fifty-fifty rate. All that being said, our space cowboys see a pretty face so rarely, they don't really care whether it's a girl or a boy. Women also like you plenty. Miranda has been making sheep's eyes at you for a month now. If not for her boyfriend, she would have dragged you into her bed in a flash. That's exactly the problem — there are too few women in our trade who are straight, single and able to drag you into bed. That leaves only men. Look at it philosophically," she winked at him. "They used to hit even on me, when it was too dark or they were too drunk. Not in the last five years though. Everyone knows I'm crazy and my motto is 'strike first, talk later'. Sometimes later never came because the wannabe admirer was dead. I pack a nasty punch."

The boy had listened to her speech attentively, but the conclusion he drew was totally unexpected. "So do you think me... err... attractive?"

Damn, the next thing he asks about will be birds and bees. Wait, oh shit, he had learned it all already in a hard way. What a bloody world where a teenager learns how to do a blowjob before learning how to pick up girls...

She folded her legs up under her, looking at Ariel askew. The wine and the cakes had put her in a good mood, and she answered frankly, "Lad, you are beautiful. It's not sex appeal, it's something else. It's as if you are not of this world, but from a dream, a fairy tale. These crude people hold nothing sacred, believe in nothing but money and guns, and that's the reason why they are so attracted to you. You are a dream, a lucky charm. Looking at you anyone might believe in angels."

Once again he made an unexpected conclusion. "Mistress Nelsa, you are a Christian, right?"

"Do I have it tattooed on my forehead?" she asked, surprised. "Or does Nergan have a big mouth?"

Ariel shook his head. "You wear a cross on a chain around you neck."

Nelsa was even more surprised. "Don't tell me you peeped on me in a shower. Not a sight for a weak stomach, I assure you."

Her clothes always covered her from the neck down. It was not her faith preventing her from showing bare skin, but her scars. Although she didn't cover her face, never even thought of it. In any case, she could swear her cross wasn't visible under her clothes.

"Remember our flight from Aescuzan to Cendar, that night, when I was... I somehow knew you had a cross on a chain. Maybe your shirt was open, or I touched it... well, by accident. Sorry."

My, the lad must have been feeling up your breasts, and you didn't take notice!

Nelsa felt her face went hot, and her hand trembled. She dropped her wine glass on the carpet. "Damn!"

Her body felt strange and clumsy, her heart was nearly bursting out from her ribcage. I seem to be quite drunk. What a surprise. It hadn't happened to her for a long time. That was apparently the reason behind her holier-than-thou preaching. That's why Ariel had been looking at her quite intently. Phew, that CrystalCoast, that nest of vice, sure was a danger to her authority as a captain.

The glass didn't break, but the wine spilled out on the carpet. There was few of it left anyway.

"Sorry, pilot, I'll send a maid to clean it up in the morning. It seems I've had enough, it's time to go to bed. I didn't answer, did I? Yes, I'm a Christian, my mother got me baptized right after birth."

She saved your life, Nelsa. Do you remember how they almost slashed your throat but looked at the cross and laughed: 'The religion of slaves! Let her live and bear obedient little Christians for her master!' Only after half a year in a hospital you learned that you would never have children. Right after taking out the last remaining stitches. Praise the Lord for that, otherwise those bastards could have gotten you pregnant...

Shut up. Should you always go over your grievances at every chance? Stop picking at your wounds, let them heal!

Hey, did you buy all that nonsense yourself, all that crap that you were feeding the boy? Forget it, he is different, there is still hope for him.

And for me there isn't? Isn't?

"Damn it all to seven hells," she muttered and got up. The boy got up also to show her out, and she asked him at the door, "Are you a believer yourself?"

"No. My parents said at eighteen I could choose any faith I want. They were both agnostics."

"Well, did you choose anything yet?"

He smiled. "I might just become a Christian too."

"Gee, lad, that would be harsh. A Christian is allowed to marry only a brother in faith. Or a sister, in your case. And for life, no divorces, mind. Till death do them part."

"In that case I'll find a sister in faith to marry. Till death do us part." He was staring at her, and for some reason Nelsa looked away.

"My lad, you'll spend your whole life searching!" she said, patted his shoulder and went to bed.