The space shuttle rings like a bell as it docks with the parking lot. Jacob unhooks his seat belt and looks out the windows; he can see the earth. It’s so far away and yet so close. That small ball contains everything he ever thought of as home—one insignificant planet. But conscious Jacob isn’t thinking that; what he is thinking is, “That’s Earth,” he shouts.
Izzy unhooks her belt and floats over next to Jacob and is shocked by its beauty; she can see North America from space. but everything looks kind of the same, the imaginary lines of countries removed by the distance. politics the petty hatred the wars All things are relative, and to her they look small out the tiny window.
Jack Harrington opens the cockpit door and laughs, seeing the pair huddled around the small viewport. “Wait till you see it at night; then it’s really impressive.”
Marlon opens the inner airlock and preps it for cycling. Jacob watches as he hits the dazzling array of controls.
Izzy bumps into Jacob as she grabs her bag. Jacob follows suit, the luggage awkward to maneuver in microgravity.
The newest arrivals to the parking lot crowd into the airlock, and Marlon shuts the door behind them, pressing the button to cycle.
Izzy looks around the airlock concerned. “Where is Charles?” She says, confused. She is so preoccupied she doesn’t notice her obsession with the man-bun-wearing astronaut is irritating Jacob.
Jack Harrington looks over at Izzy. “What about him? He is shutting the shuttle down; it takes time. time I don’t have…”
With a hiss the airlock cycles open, and the promenade of the parking lot is revealed. It is at its core a floating parking lot for alien craft. With its spacious 300-foot-long, 15-foot-wide cylinder, it is perfect for smaller craft, with bigger crafts having to send a shuttle. Jacob watches as Jack Harrington floats through the airlock and immediately lands on his feet.
Jacob turns to Izzy. “I think they have artificial gravity; a dress would have been fine after all.”
Izzy doesn’t hear him. She hardly recognizes that he is alive, or Jack, or the bodyguards; all she cares about is looking back through the inner airlock. “Charles?” She mumbles and shakes her head, clearing her mind. “Let’s go figure out why he brought us here. Jacob”
A less basic explanation of the parking lot is that it is a flying garden where you park extrasolar spacecraft mixed with a bus station.
Izzy shrugs as she looks around; she expected more. Instead, she got uncomfortable-looking yellow benches and yellow trash cans but also endless flowers and plants growing on every surface, some hanging from the ceiling.
Jacob is in awe. “It’s like Rama, you know, the Arthur C. Clarke book,” he says, “but much smaller, much, much smaller.”
Jack Harrington looks at Izzy and Jacob. “Welcome to the parking lot. There are some temporary rooms; the receptionist will assign you one. I have to deal with an unpleasant interaction.” He turns and with skill moves across the room, his strides 20 feet long with each step.
Marlon and Trever grab the stainless handrails littering every surface of the space and move after him as quickly as they can, but much to Jacob and Izzy’s humor, they struggle.
Izzy looks around for the receptionist and frowns when she sees it’s the uppity man who was so rude to them when they first got to the ranch.
They make the transition from the zero gravity of the airlock to the .25 of earth gravity of the main walkway of the promenade. Jacob falls hard on his side, rolling across the floor slowly. Carefully he gets to his feet, moving four times slower than normal. “This is insane,” Jacob says, every small movement threatening to throw him off the ground.
Izzy takes her first step cautiously at first. She stumbles and falls down, lying face down. She gets on her knees and crawls toward Jacob.
The airlock cycles behind them, and Charles the astronaut climbs out. He makes the transition smooth as glass mid-stride. He looks down at Izzy and puts on a warm smile. “Izzy, good to see you again,” he says, nodding to Jacob and starting to move away. He reaches down and touches Izzy’s cheek.
Izzy blushes as she is filled with a deep sense of longing and then a tightness in her stomach, then a rush of endorphins as she relives their hot sex in the gloryhole.
‘I want you to never forget how amazing I am.’ Charles thinks the moment before his hand breaks contact.
Jacob looks at the man. He is frustrated by Izzy’s newfound connection with the astronaut. ‘Why him?’ he mumbles in his head. ‘All I see is an average guy with a man bun.’ He sighs and says nothing, the pit in his stomach growing.
Izzy waves back. “Thanks for the smooth ride,” she says. ‘I need to find a private place to rip his clothes off again.’ She tries to stop herself from letting her imagination run, but it’s out of control. She pictures what it would be like to have sex in the shuttle. Him in the cockpit, and her riding his cock facing away from him, the zero gravity making everything strange and new. After he gives her her third orgasm in a row, she imagines she will get on her knees and let him fuck between her breasts while she tells him how much she… ‘No, this is wrong. I love Jacob,’ she thinks fleetingly. Her imagination continues. This time she wants him to finish on her chest and in her mouth and on her face so she can carry it around with her the rest of the day so everyone knows she belongs to him.
Jacob gives Izzy a gentle shake.
“Ok, cool your jets, Izzy,” she mumbles. The rocking motion was enough to snap her back to reality. But her imagination hasn’t stopped. He is touching her naked body in her mind. She feels him pressing himself in between her breasts; she can feel him throb between them. She closes her eyes, ready to receive his gift. She gasps, opening her eyes, and looks around.
Charles, halfway to registration, turns back. “Let me know if you want to get a drink later,” he says. ‘She is almost totally mine.’ He whistles to himself, satisfied.
Izzy watches him go, memorizing every inch of his body and how he moves.
“Let’s go, Izzy,” Jacob says, giving her a harder nudge, and Izzy glides forward.
Jacob moves after her.
Izzy watches Jacob move after her. His first step bounces him 4 feet; he lands and tumbles and stumbles and loses balance, landing badly and sliding on the thin carpet. She lands and glides to a stop, laughing at the antics. She looks up for Charles, but he is nowhere to be seen.
Near reception Jack Harrington stands at an open airlock. He is looking at a 7 ft tall dark green lizard person with a deep scar on his face.
“WE CONSIDER IT AN ATTACK ON ALL LIZARD PEOPLE. WE DEMAND IMMEDIATE RETURN OF THE CHILD.” The muscular lizard roars in a monotone.
Izzy somersaults and falls on her butt at the shouting. Jacob helps her up. They stop and try to listen to the conversation Jack Harrington is having with the screamy alien, but there is no way to hear his voice; it is lost in the space.
“WE CONSIDER IT AN ATTACK ON ALL LIZARD PEOPLE. WE DEMAND IMMEDIATE RETURN OF THE CHILD NOW,” the lizard person towers over Jack Harrington.
Izzy and Jacob arrive at the reception desk, both of them feeling like they were taking their first baby steps. They are both exhausted, bruised, and tired.
Izzy looks at the receptionist’s uniform; on the front is a name tag with the name Marvin. “Your name is Marvin? Like the Martian?” Izzy asks.
“Yes,” Marvin, the uppity receptionist, responds as he looks down his nose at the rumpled sweatpants- and t-shirt-wearing Izzy and Jacob. “That is what my name tag says, does it not?”
Jacob has had enough of today; he looks at the uppity receptionist in his suit and tie. “We were told to get a room from you.”
Izzy looks at Jacob out of the corner of her eye as she looks from the receptionist to Jacob and back.
“IT’S AN ACT OF WAR. WHERE IS THE CHILD?” The lizard person leader yells at Jack Harrington, small droplets of saliva landing on his face.
Marvin makes an “ermp” noise of indignation and types on his keyboard, ‘I’ll make sure they never come back here again,’ he snarks in his mind. “I have assigned you room 13,” he says in his best pleasant voice.
“Thanks,” Izzy and Jacob say in unison.
Marvin sneers and turns his nose up and “ermps” at them again.
“I DON’T CARE. NO EXCUSES,” the alien captain yells at Jack Harrington again.
Jack Harrington’s cool demeanor is starting to crack around the edges. You can tell from the way he holds his shoulders back and square, like he is an unmoving wall. The cracks showing in his hands that rhythmically clench and unclench in anger despite his face staying expressionless.
“THIS ISN’T OVER,” the giant alien general shouts as he steps back into the airlock.
Jack Harrington glides over to reception. “That went better than I thought,” he mumbles as he calmly grabs the reception desk’s handrail. “You can go explore; just stay out of trouble.”
Jacob looks at the wide but empty expanse of the promenade. “Explore what?
“Something… Go away. I will send someone to get you when I need you.” Jack says coldly, his face falling into a frown, “That’s not fair. Go relax, get used to the environment, and like I said, I will send for someone when I need you.”
He turns to the pompous man. “Marvin, give me the key to the penthouse.” The man fumbles around under the reception desk and pulls out a key attached to a lanyard that says “Presidential Suite.”
