Tremendous Universe

There is no such thing as silence in the world. The earth hums incessantly. Strumming the wind and the electric energy of human lives, every city orchestrates its own chaotic symphony. It was just noise but when Cara was floating through the air and far enough above it all to get a glimpse of the big picture, it became something quite beautiful.

She’d been content to bask in the mellow haze of wine and sunset. It always seemed like the world was just taking one long, deep breath whenever the sun started sliding down behind the distant mountains. The noisy streets below would soften but only briefly before picking intensity, just in time for nightfall.
That wasn’t so bad, thought the woman once known among the more clever or less than fortunate in certain circles, as the Lioness. She’d spent the last few years drifting from one city to the next in her vintage airship, soaking in the ambiance and setting down for days at a time, on random rooftops where the rent was cheap and hosts weren’t too diligent about ID checks. She wasn’t delusional enough to think it was a good life. It just wasn’t so bad but that was good.  That was better than she once could have imagined possible.

Truthfully, there wasn’t enough liquor or sunshine in the world to completely wash away her bitterness or the albatross weighing down her conscience.  Still, there was something to be said for dulling the aches associated with remembering, just a bit. Seeking oblivion made for good distraction from a staring match with one’s own inner darkness and such.

Come morning, the sun she’d praised the evening before was harsh and cruel. The wine that had tasted so fine curdled her insides.  She moaned sickly.  Sand was sticking to her eyeballs and when she tried to open her eyes, that sand turned into needles. A multitude of spiteful and persistent little buggers. There was a crick in her neck from where she’d fallen asleep on the lounger at the helm.

It finally registered--the fact that she wasn’t alone. She squinted up at the blurry female figure looming above her. Even then, opening her eyes was a trial. She took her time sitting up, didn’t say anything for a while. She gave the newcomer a long, contemplative stare.

The girl was a lithe and fashionable sort. Her dark hair was gathered in a sleek bubble atop her head. The sleeve of her shirt was translucent, revealing a filigreed brand of gold coiling down to her wrist. She wore dark chocolate colors, only slightly darker than her skin. The look suited her.  

Cara smiled vaguely, liking the unconsciously seductive swoop of her lashes. Her brand must have been inspired by the hues of her gleaming irises. Her weapon was some new-fangled design of a sidearm. The same design on her arm were etched into the sides of the gun. Fancy, just like it’s owner. It was a pity, really - that such a rare and interesting bird had landed itself here.

“You’re an angel of death,” Cara declared after a moment.

That gave the younger woman pause. It wasn’t--Cara supposed, the response she’d been expecting.

“Yeah. I guess. Lionel sent me.”

“Lionel, huh?  There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” Cara mused. “Well, you do look like the type. You’re here to kill me then?”

“I was only supposed to take you to him. I supposed it’d be okay if I kill you.”  She waited a few breaths. “You don’t seem too broken up about that.”

“You know how worms will writhe if you pull them out of the earth and expose them to the light of day? I’m not a worm, am I?” Cara’s head tilted, the question taking on new dimension in her mind. “Am I?”

Her would be killer, scrutinized her with an avid sort of puzzlement. “Does it look like I care?”

Cara regarded her nearly empty wine bottle thoughtfully. Her head was really pounding. Really, how much could using rancid wine to wash down painkillers hurt?   She snatched a bottle of pills from the console and grimaced, taking a quick gulp of the wine.   

“What did your boss tell you about me?”

“I don’t need to know anything about you to kill you.”

Eyes widening, Cara shuddered. Oh God. This one was so stupid, it was scary. There was a shake of the head. She eyed her would-be assassin with a speculative frown.

“How much does Lionel hate you?”

“Quite a bit, actually.”

“Figures.”

The girl shrugged. “Are we done with... whatever this is yet?”

“Sure, why not? You’re the one with the lethal weapon, right?”

There was a tremor and a roar as the vessel rose up into the air and away from the slumping city below that stank of old age and violence. The partition in the back of the ship was open and the wind came screeching in, battering at their bodies and stirring up papers and other odds and ends.  

“So, you really think you come into my house and--” Cara bit down on her irritation and sank back down into her lounger, shutting her eyes. “Well, never mind.”

Honestly, she thought she might snap the little chick’s neck; maybe throw her out and watch her fall to the street below, just like a dead bird but something wild was stirring in her blood.  This was starting to feel like something she remembered.  It was starting to feel like... fun.

---