Chapter Three: Moon, Sun and Stars — Part 9

Daria’s smile is coy, but for once her head is mostly above gutter. “I’m thinking that with a little push, the girl with the goggles might have her head in an eighty mile an hour gush of wind.” Daria puts her hand out, to emphasize her intent.

Jynx considers Daria’s proposal, and given her current condition, hands Daria her goggles. She and Daria have their feet dangling and their heads a foot below the ship’s belly. The thought of standing on her head relative to gravity so soon after having bloodied her nose hardly appeals to Jynx so, after a little chat back and forth, she braces her elbows and head against the belly of the ship, and bends her knees so that Daria can drop onto her feet. This is all made easier by the fact that gravity is still pulling at them. Daria aligns her feet with Jynx, and Jynx pushes against Daria as she slowly lets loose on the rope. Daria reaches that odd point where she stops falling and Jynx feels the slight resistance of the arch in stasis. Then, with a slight push, Daria is beyond the field of plasma, looking down the last part of the arch, headed toward an island visible in the distance, still at least an hour away. The path is clear, and though the wind is strong, so strong that Daria can feel it pull the skin at her cheeks, Daria is certain that nothing big enough to do any permanent damage lies between the ship and its settlement.

Crouching out of the wind, Daria turns around, easing herself back up until she can steal a kiss from Jynx. “We’re going to land hard and fast, but nothing’s going to stop us.”

“Let’s get back up and tell the others.” Jynx says, her nose throbbing.

Daria looks sad when she unhitches from Jynx. “And here I thought, with all this rope . . . ”

Jynx holds Daria by the harness for a moment, “Oh sweetie, we don’t do rope. Remember?” Jynx gives Daria a shove, and the girl falls and slides her way back to the other side of the ship.

Jynx clicks her tongue as she crawls back up her rope, arm over arm, foot over foot, and back onto the deck of the ship. Daria is already telling Blake the good news, and rightfully so, so Jynx goes to the kitchen to get some ice and have a look in the mirror. Her nose isn’t broken, but for all the swelling, Jynx doesn’t know how anybody can tell. She would like to kid herself and say she doesn’t know why Daria would be — if not put off by her now distorted face — then possibly turned on, but Jynx is nosy, and she knows Daria better than Daria knows herself. Ropes and bruises are simply too much of the same thing at the same time for the girl to stand. Jynx knows Daria’s going to fall soon, knows it’s going to be hard and embarrassing and far from the sopping good cry that would pass for a recovery among the normal. ChoCho comes in to get a cup of coffee. All hands needed are at the sails for the landing, because Heath and Paige need the practice, and because George is more than certain that no matter who is at the sails, if his hypothesis on arch energy dynamics is wrong, they’re all going to be dead anyway.

“George says we should go lay down, in case things go bump and bang. He says, because of the spin, we’ve got maybe another hour before we hit.” ChoCho sips his coffee, staring at Jynx over the top of the cup. “Your face must hurt.”

Jynx felt heat creep into her belly, because ChoCho is, if only instinctively, flirting with her. “Yes, it hurts a lot.”

“I think I can help with that.” ChoCho takes her hand, draws her to their quarters, and closes the door behind them.

ChoCho sits Jynx down, undressing her and putting a blanket over her cold skin. Her drop under the ship had chilled her to the bone, and now she’s warming up and as she does, her nose is starting the throb intensely. ChoCho begins first by mashing some pungent herbs in a small mortar and pestle, pouring in an oil of some form that smells of peppermint until it has formed a thick, paste. Jynx feels blood trickling down her face, and realizes that despite his calm demeanor, ChoCho’s motions are urgent, not rushed only because ChoCho’s nervous system doesn’t express urgency with increased speed.

“Am I in trouble?” Jynx asks, putting her handkerchief under her nose.

“Of course not.” ChoCho says, wiping his hands with alcohol and then kneading the crushed oily herbs into small, pea-sized balls. “Lean forward now, and put your fingers here.” ChoCho says, guiding her fingers to her nose where the cartilage meets the bone, moving her fingers until they are against painful, soft tissue. “Grip there.” ChoCho says. “I have no ice for your forehead, and I am sorry for that, the swelling indicates a long time healing, and a lot of sleeping sitting up. I’m sorry for that as well.”

Jynx is now breathing through her mouth and hating it. “And here I thought you were going to seduce me.”

“Too much blood.” ChoCho says bluntly.

“What are the little pills for?” Jynx wonders.

“Medicine for later. I have made enough for ten bloody noses.”

“I have to sit here a long time, don’t I?”

“Very still.” ChoCho says. “Very quiet.”

Jynx stops talking even as ChoCho settles behind her, his arms wrapped gently around her shoulders. ChoCho has pulled his skirt up and taken his boots off. He is comfortable to be around, and would smell like musk and cinnamon, if Jynx could smell him. She has just realized that his back is against the wall, and she can lean against him and still be leading forward, taking some of the strain off of her spine and hips. His head is placed to the side of hers, and he will sit perfectly still, she is certain, for as long as it takes to keep her calm. Even through the quilt, she can feel his hard desire pressing against her. Knowing his wants and needs, and interpreting his behavior as selflessness, Jynx smiles behind the hand covering her nose.