Originally posted to the LJ community about a week or so ago. My
apologies to anybody who saw it there for cluttering up your in-box
Author: trismegistus (katetshoni[at]yahoo.com)
Characters: Bobby, John, Jean, Erik
Teaser: A. adj. Of, pertaining to, characterized by, or
compounded of, two; dual: a. gen. binary system (of
classification): one by which each group and sub-group is perpetually
divided into two, the one with a positive and the other with a
negative character, until individuals (or genera) are reached.
Another order came over the radio for us to land. A little stress
line formed between Storm's eyebrows. She couldn't do this alone.
I reached out. I felt along the currents of wind that whipped along
the 'bird, reaching for the moisture I knew was all around us. With
that as my guide, I rose up, let my consciousness drift to the arctic
cold that circulated miles above us. I grabbed, dragged great
fistfuls of it down through the atmosphere. It condensed as it
plummeted. Hailstones shredded metal like paper.
The last triangle disappeared.
From behind me, Dr. Grey said, "Good job, Bobby," but she didn't
sound like she meant it. I didn't care. I looked back at Marie, still
unconscious on her cot. At least the safeties fastening her down
The plane lurched. I dropped to one knee. John lunged for me me and
steadied me before I could keel over.
"What?" I said. John was staring at me like I'd just grown a third
eye. His arm was tucked around my waist. I shrugged it off, and made
my way back to my seat.
John followed me back and dropped into a crouch at my side. Silently,
he wiped his hand across the side of my face. He held his hand up to
Water was melting on the surface of his skin, running down the little
grooves limning his fingertips.
"You're leaking," he said.
From the cockpit came a steady stream of curses.
"What's wrong?" asked Dr. Grey.
Storm hit the control array with the heel of one hand. "The fuel
lines, they've frozen solid. I can't get any power to the thrusters.
We're plunging into freefall."
John looked at me, then. His eyes grew wide, and a sickle smile swept
across his face. Out came his Zippo.
"John, put it away," Storm said.
John frowned. "Oh, so Bobby gets to show off but I can't do something
simple like thaw us out before we crash and break into a million tiny
little bits of flash-frozen freak?"
"Shut up, kid. Don't make me cold-cock you."
He wheeled on Logan. "What, you think I'm scared of you just because
Dr. Grey's eyes flared, once. The floor underneath us suddenly felt
warm, like beach sand baked by the sun.
John gulped, then pocketed his Zippo.
The rest is up here: http://homepages.nyu.edu/~jmt269/binary.htm