Maxwell woke up at around seven in the morning in a large double bed with two young woman asleep on either side of him. All concerned were naked and decorated with body paint. Maxwell recognised his style on the two women’s bodies and was pleased. He’d painted a stylised dragon on each. Sculpture was his speciality. Painting was not. He was always happy when a painting came out well.
Glancing around the darkened room, he saw see a couple of gin bottles, several tonic bottles and tubes of paint scattered on the floor. Although this suggested he had drunk a considerable amount the night before, he was not feeling too badly. His only real concern for the moment was: who were these women and why was he in bed with them?
This was not the first time Maxwell had found himself in such a situation. Far from it. There was no need to panic. It was not difficult to work out why he was in bed with the lasses, at least in general terms. They were very attractive. It was only the details of how they got there that puzzled him. Actually, he thought as he glanced around the room again, it was how he got here and not the other way around; this was not his room.
He simply needed to do a little mental backtracking in order to remember the circumstances that brought him to the room, any unfortunate promises he might have made and who the lasses were. As he was backtracking in his mind, his fingers stroked the back of one of the women. She moaned softly. Maxwell stroked more thoroughly. She moaned a bit more. Maxwell’s stroking lingered on her erogenous bits. She pulled him back down to the bed. He was beginning to remember the details. When the other woman joined them, Maxwell stopped caring about the details.
At half-past eight, an enlightened and sexually over-satiated Maxwell kissed the women goodbye and made his way back to his own room. He showered off the paint job, as charming as it was, put on some fresh clothes and knocked on the doors of Wendy’s and the angel’s rooms to suggest breakfast.
At the buffet, Maxwell filled his tray with food – like most skinny chaps, he could eat a tremendous amount and usually did so. Wendy helped herself to a generous portion of pickled herring, which she was delighted to find at the buffet, and the angel took a croissant. At the table, they all ordered cappuccinos. As soon as the angel received hers, she guzzled it down and ordered another. Knowing the angel’s habits, Maxwell suggested that the waitress bring three over in order to keep his winged companion happy and not tire the waitress unnecessarily.
As they were eating, Lucy and Judith came down to breakfast.
“You!” the former exclaimed upon seeing Maxwell.
Maxwell looked around.
“There are three of us at this table for whom that form of address would be accurate, if less than polite, um, Lucy. Which of us are you exclaiming towards?”
“You, of course, Maxwell,” said Lucy.
“Well, ‘Maxwell’ would be a nicer form of addressing me, but I’ve been called a lot worse over the years, so I suppose ‘you’ will suffice if it pleases you. Now, why don’t the two of you pull up a couple of chairs and plates of breakfast and join us? Wendy is doubtless bored to tears having to listen to me so much.”
“I am not,” said Wendy.
“Wendy?” said Lucy.
“Sorry, have you not met?” asked Maxwell. “This is my friend Wendy. Wendy, this is my...”
“New friend?” suggested Lucy.
“...new friend, Lucy,” said Maxwell.
“And you are?” Maxwell asked Judith. As he looked at her, he felt a stirring of recognition. “Lord love a duck! Are you the young lady who tried desperately to kill me a couple of nights ago?”
Judith blushed, not knowing how to reply.
“I trust you’ve had a change of heart about killing me. I’m not sure I’d like to share breakfast with my assassin. Or if you really must do me in, at least wait until after breakfast and, ideally, my toilet. I’d truly hate to leave an embarrassing mess when I’ve died.”
“No, no...I’m...” stuttered Judith.
“No, you won’t let me finish breakfast? Or, no, you are not my assassin? You lack clarity, young lady. You will never get far in life without clarity, believe me,” said Maxwell.
Lucy stepped in.
“Goodness, I forget how much you can talk with so little meaning.”
“What? I am full of meaning. Some of it is very deep, my dear. It is your own fault if you fail to grasp it.”
“Sure. I’ll take your word for it. This is Judith.”
“Hi,” said Judith waving timidly to everyone. She felt very much out of her element here and, as a result, was feeling increasingly awkward. She was pleased that Lucy was handling things, but she also felt a twinge of discomfort at the easy banter between her love and Maxwell.
“And Judith...” began Maxwell.
“Yes, Judith was a part of the Reverend Forge’s team, who are out to kill you,” said Lucy. “But we’ve had some talks and she realises that killing you would not be a wise thing to do.”
“Good for you, Judith!” said Maxwell approvingly. “Now, why don’t the both of you load up your plates and come join us.”
They did precisely that and sat down. At the same time, the angel ordered her fifth cappuccino.
Judith caught sight of the angel’s wings.
“Oh my God! Are you an angel?” she asked.
“Yes, I think so,” said the angel in her soft French accent.
“Her behaviour falls well short of angelic from time to time,” said Maxwell, “but it’s not clear what else she might be. So, until someone comes up with a better hypothesis, we’ll work on the operating assumption that she is an angel.”
“Wow,” said Judith.
“Wendy?” asked Lucy.
“Yes?”
“Last night, I met a Zargonian who asked for my thoughts about a tear in the fabric of the universe. He said that if I got confused, I should ask the penguin. Might you be the penguin?”
“I don’t know. But I do not know of any other penguins who are knowledgeable about astrophysics.”
“No, I don’t imagine there are many,” laughed Lucy. “I haven’t had any time to review the information he gave me or even think much about it, but it’s nice to know you. May I contact you if I have questions?”
“It is nice to know you too, Lucy. Of course you may contact me.” Wendy reached into her satchel, which was hung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a phone. “Let me give you my details.”
Lucy pulled her telephone out of her bag and they exchanged information.
“There is one more thing you should know about the tear,” said Wendy.
“Yes?” asked Lucy.
“We probably caused it. Did the Zargonian tell you that?” said Wendy.
“No, he didn’t. That is interesting.”
Wendy told Lucy about their voyage in the space-cruiser, the sling-shot manoeuvre around Gateway and the equation she had worked out for the manoeuvre. Lucy asked a number of technical questions, which Wendy answered with clarity and depth. The two females soon gained intellectual respect for each other.
Meanwhile, Judith was attempting to converse with the angel, but finding, as did everyone who spoke to the angel, that she was awfully vague about who she was, where she was from and what she was doing. Later, Judith would tell Lucy, “it’s almost as if she is a newborn baby in a grown-up’s body and with a grown-up’s brain. She has the coordination and vocabulary of an adult, but hardly seems to know what most of those words mean.”
As they were finishing their breakfasts, and the angel her eighth cappuccino, Lucy remarked to Maxwell, “you’ve got an interesting entourage there.”
“Thank you,” said Maxwell. “Mind you, your entourage is interesting, if a little disheartening.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Lucy.
“While I appreciated your distracting my attacker and saving my life, it is curious, if not a touch disrespectful, to be in love with her.”
“I’m not in love with her, but I do like her a lot. And she’s fucking good in bed,” said Lucy with a wink. “Anyway, you are a fine one to talk, running away and leaving me with a potential killer.”
“You seemed to be doing jolly well without my help,” said Maxwell. “Indeed, I felt rejected. I thought we had a beautiful thing going.”
“You thought nothing of the kind!” said Lucy. “You just wanted to get laid, and I did too. Let’s not pretend it was anything more than that.”
“You misjudge me, young lady,” said Maxwell.
“Do I?” asked Lucy.
Sandra and Teresa, decked out in rucksacks and motorcycle leathers, waved at Maxwell and walked over. He stood up and they each kissed him on the lips.
“You were wonderful,” said Teresa. “I haven’t showered your painting off yet!”
“Oh. Thanks. You were jolly good yourself,” said Maxwell.
“And me?” asked Sandra.
“Brilliant, just brilliant,” said Maxwell.
“Thanks,” said Sandra, kissing Maxwell again and patting him on the bottom.
“Would you like to join us for breakfast?” asked Maxwell.
“No, thanks,” said Sandra. “We’ve got to get going. We slept in far later than we intended this morning, thanks to you.”
“Me?”
Sandra winked at him. “Yep! Bye!”
“Bye-bye,” said Teresa.
“Toodle-oo. Travel safely!” said Maxwell.
“You were saying?” Lucy said as he sat down.
“They’re just good friends.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes, really. Are you questioning my integrity?”
“If I could find it, I might indeed want to question it, but at present it seems non-existent.”
“Lord love a duck, you are difficult. What did I ever see in you?”
“My tits?”
Maxwell looked at Lucy’s chest. “Well, yes, they may have been a contributing factor.”
“Thought so.”
“Changing the subject, as this one is on its last legs,” said Maxwell, “We’re planning on investigating the lake behind the hotel after breakfast. Would you and Judith like to join us?”
“Perhaps,” said Lucy. “If we do, we’ll look for you on the beach.”
As Lucy turned her head towards Judith, she noticed the angel was gone. Odd, she thought, she hadn’t seen her leave. But when she blinked her eyes, the angel was there again, smiling at Lucy.
Curious, thought Lucy. Very curious. She took Judith’s hand. “Let’s go, kiddo.”
“Okay,” said Judith, glad to be her lover’s focus of attention again.
“We should get going as well,” said Maxwell. “Finished?” he asked Wendy and the angel.
As the five of them passed through the lobby to the lifts, Judith suddenly exclaimed “Father Forge!” and pointed at a large-screen television in one corner of the lobby. Indeed, the reverend was being displayed on a local news show. All except the angel walked over to watch.
...rumours are that the forensic team has found no evidence of human victims in the bloody slaughter. However, there has been no official confirmation of this from the Vega de Tera police.
Meanwhile, at a press conference this morning, a spokesman for the Evangelical Church of America announced that the church was launching its own investigation into the Vega de Tera baby slaughter.
[Cut to press conference; handsome priest in his mid 30s, with impeccably groomed hair and a strong chin, is speaking] The Evangelical Church of America is appalled by the apparent recent slaughter of small children in southern Europa yesterday. Although it is alleged that members of the church may have been involved with this terrible incident, such an action is certainly something the church absolutely and unquestionably condemns.
We have launched our own investigative unit and will co-operate completely with the police in Europa.
Meanwhile, we are praying for the victims of the tragedy and their families and are convinced Jesus is with them and comforting them at this difficult time.
[Cut to newsreader, an authoritative woman in her late 30s with an incredibly plastic-looking hair-do] Police have asked for an extension of the accused persons’ remand in order to collect further evidence. Formal charges are expected to be made tomorrow...
“I’m glad you left them,” said Lucy.
“Me too. But I’m worried about my sisters,” said Judith. “And I really can’t believe they would have killed little children.”
“That does seem extreme,” said Lucy. “But they did intend to kill Maxwell and, presumably, still do.”