Quintus Crossings - Story II: Michael - Emergence Arc

Chapter 3: Out the Window

"You'll be fine here," Jacki told Michael, patting his shoulder. He couldn't stop staring at her gleaming blue eyes. "I'll come back if you need me, alright?"

"You sure?" Michael croaked, then cleared his throat. "That we'll be alright, I mean. Alec said this place could explode."

"We're working on it," Jacki said, her smile not faltering. "If those rooms exploded, you'd be fine. We're high enough in Aertum to be safe from a blast down in the supplier chambers."

Michael blanked. He didn't like it when a made-up word was brought into conversation. And what did height have to do with it? If the bottom of a building exploded, the top would fall. Shouldn't they be evacuating people?

"Listen, I'll talk more if I can, but I'm pretty busy right now," Jacki said. "I have to go."

Michael stood as she left. He faced the door for a few seconds, trying to process everything. The levitating platform that had brought Michael out of that pipe-filled room was a wonder to behold, but he hadn't been able to enjoy it. He'd been too confused.

Alec was here! And these people knew him. How?

He'd seemed very knowledgeable about the different worlds and Transmensionals, yet Michael had assumed Alec had been close to Captain Jennson's research. He hadn't thought Alec was a world-traveler. He hadn't considered anyone could do that except Bianca.

Who are you?

The question had nagged him as they led him through hallways crowded with people rushing about this place. Alec hadn't answered a single question, since he'd been called to a different assignment after they'd ascended to this floor.

Michael turned from the door. This room was filled with three-layered bunkbeds from wall to wall. A massive window made up the far side of the room. The spaces between the beds made aisles to walk through. This place could likely house a hundred people with relative comfort. Only a few of the beds looked used, however, and there wasn't much baggage around them. After surveying the room he flinched in surprise. He wasn't alone.

Two young women sat on a bed, one scrunched over and concentrating on something Michael couldn't see in her lap, the other facing away from the wall-sized window. She glanced at him, eyes narrowed.

Michael's stomach surged to his throat. The small woman defined the word "contrast." She had long, wavy jet-black hair over a small, smooth, fair face with clear blue eyes. Her baby fat gave her a childish look, while her erect posture and white uniform – adorned with silver wings pinned over her left breast – gave her an aura of duty and power.

That usual feeling Michael had whenever he was attracted to a girl swept over him. He wanted to say or do something hilarious and witty, wanted to make her laugh so much that she'd be as attracted in him as he was in her. Alright, Mike. Time to work your magic.

Michael squared his shoulders and made his way to her, walking between bunkbeds. He kept his eyes away from her, but snuck a peak. She wasn't watching. Dammit! He needed to be cooler! He swayed his arms back and forth the way Jason did when he walked. All the years hanging with Jason made it easy to copy his best friend's movements, and Jason always looked impressive, so surely Michael would if he –

Michael's wrist slammed into a bunkbed's metal pole. He exclaimed, hopping to the side, shaking his hand as it flared in pain. His feet locked together and he flailed his arms about as he fell. He lay there after the thump, letting out a long breath. Perfect, Mike. A+ work right there.

"Are you alright?" the girl asked, staring down at him.

"Yeah." Michael sighed as he rose. "Nothing's hurt but my pride... and my wrist... and I guess my ribs, now."