Liam frowned as he looked at the stargate.
They had tried a lot of different names for the thing: The Gateway of the Heavens, the Portal, The Space Doughnut and the Chapa'ai. Though those last two had been jokes. And only Simone had laughed at the last one. Well. Snickered.
“Okay,” Meg said, lifting up Liv's daughter and holding her out with both of her hands. “Marion, can you say stargate?”
Marion burbled happily. Her elf side meant that her childhood would stretch out for decades. Her lizard side meant that she’d have a vastly shortened lifespan and sped up gestation. Tethis had studied her and determined that she’d age roughly half as fast as a human baby. Meanwhile, her adoptive brother Brax was running in excited circles, his arms spread wide as his tail dragged behind him.
Liam wasn’t sure why a half-human half-lizard had way more scales than half-elf and half-lizard. And he wasn’t honestly going to ask questions. Instead, he grabbed Brax and lifted him up with a grunt.
“Enough running, kiddo,” he said. “You can’t run around like crazy until we’re through security and back at Grandma’s house.” He gulped, his stomach roiling nervously as he thought of all the steps between those two steps. There would be the meeting with the security professionals, the President, the press. He shook his head and then looked back. Tethis had begged, wheedled and made puppy-dog eyes until she had gotten tapped for the mission. She was currently checking over all of her equipment and supplies which included a half a dozen glowing crystals that she had said would contain the energies she used for magic. She apparently wanted to test and see if the Ancients' magic worked outside of Purgatory.
Next to her was Fizit. She was reading through papers, her tail lashing from side to side as she hissed quietly.
“Uh, Fizit?” Liam asked. “This is an important diplomatic mission, but it’s also a chance to relax at least a little bit.”
“Ares hasn’t been seen in public for more than five speeches over the past month,” she said.
“...and?” Liam asked. “His temple was leveled by a hellfire missile while he was making a big show of how protected it was. I’m shocked he shows his face at all.” He glanced away from the stargate and at the embassy that the Monodeists had set up across from the central plaza in Babylon. The two paladins that stood to either side of the door maintained their impassive vigil. One of them was Chastity. He had been there when she had watched Ares, her perfect and infallible god, had made a very human mistake. He wondered how she managed to stay so perfectly still and stoic. It was hard to read expressions behind a steel visor but Liam would lay money on some contemplative looks.
“That’s just it,” Fizit said. “Why isn’t he running around his whole territory doing miracles left and right? It doesn’t make sense...” She frowned. “Ares is planning something. But I’d rather get my hands on, say, fifty of those iPhones and get them to my agents than stay here for a month. And I’m sure if I get in the same room as your CIA, we can start setting up some new intelligence networks...”
“Glad to hear that visiting your son’s grandmother is so high on your priorities,” Liam said, cheerfully.
“Oh. That.” Fizit paused. “There aren’t any lizards on Earth.”
“Well, there are, but...” Liam paused and rejected several things that lizards on Earth lacked. But his sight line made what he was thinking of clear. Fizit smirked and crossed her arms under her chest.
“I know they aren’t stacked like me,” she said. “But the point stands. There aren’t any lizards on Earth. How can I be expected about meeting someone whose just as likely to scream and faint when she sees me?”
Liam smiled. “My mom’s not the screaming and fainting type.”
Fizit grunted, skeptically.
“Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!” Brax started to jump up and down. “Dad! It’s starting!”
Liam felt the subliminal whine of the gate before he heard it. His skin prickled and memory of going through the gate warred with his memory of being yanked to Purgatory in the first place. Memories of being ripped apart and put back together and being aware of every single second of it. Memories of falling and smashing and crashing. The gate flared with a pale blue-white light, forming into a sphere that expanded outwards with a whip-crack sound. The sphere hung in the air, rippling like water. Liam, with instincts that had become honed despite his absentee status as a father for most of Brax’s childhood, reached forward and grabbed his son’s tail before he sprinted into the sphere.
“Let's do this,” Liam said.
He walked forward before he could get scared.
***
It felt a bit like being turned inside out, toenails first.
It felt a bit like having his nerves lit on fire.
It felt like an eternity.
It lasted less than five seconds – which, all things considered, was a good thing.
Liam staggered as he stepped through the gate, gasping. This wasn’t even the first time he had been through the more recently constructed gate. But the feeling would never, ever, ever stop being fucking awful. He clutched at his chest and looked around himself, trying to get his bearings. The first thing he checked was his son, his wife, his daughter, and his friends had all come through all right. Tethis looked miserably cold. Meg was looking around herself with wide, saucer eyes.
Brax was immediately starting to run in circles, laughing. “That was awesome! Can we go again?”
“No!” Liam laughed, then scooped up his son, slinging him over one shoulder.
The rest of the entry room had undergone some renovations. It had been the centerpiece of the first godly visit to Earth in literally two thousand years – which meant the gate had been moved to a far larger room than it had initially been operated in. That room remained its new standard, which meant there were a great deal more things set up to do important science stuff. Simply seeing the hard edges of machined parts, the comforting glow of screens, hearing the burr and hum of fluorescent lamps and AC, all of it hit Liam like a sledgehammer.
“Liam Vanderbilt!”
That voice sounded... faintly familiar.
Liam’s brow furrowed and he looked around for the greeter. And he saw her and knew her. She had chocolate brown skin and had redone her hair from the old style to long, braided cornrows that made her look almost completely different. But he could recognize those warm, playful eyes, and that gorgeous body anywhere, even years later. “Chelsea freaking Brown!?” Liam stepped forward, his sandals clattering on the metal gangway leading to the gate. “What the- I expected- you’re looking-” he stopped.
What was the right way to say extremely pregnant without sounding rude?
Chelsea was dressed in a lab coat, but her belly swelled, straining slightly against her stretchy, maternity wear style under-shirt. She smiled slightly at his expression. She also let her eyes rove over him in a way that made Liam painfully aware of the last time that they had met. For a few panicked seconds, he started to wonder... then he kicked himself.
Human babies did not take two years to gestate.
Also, they had used a condom.
“Hello!” Meg said, cheerfully.
“Hi!” Brax said, from his place on Liam’s shoulder. He waved using his tail.
“Don’t wave with your tail, Brax,” Liam hissed.
Chelsea shook her head. “I know it’s tradition to, after not seeing someone for a while, to have loads of babies, but I thought that usually took until people hit their thirties.” She shook her head slowly, looking at the whole gang in slow wonderment. Liam pondered what they had to be like. He had been tossed into Purgatory head first, forced to sink or swim. But seeing a lizardman in the streets of Babylon was one thing. Seeing it in the next best thing to Stargate Command was another. It didn’t help that Fizit was eyeing Chelsea the way she usually eyed new people.
Like she was trying to figure out the best way to shank them.
“So, uh, I’m Chelsea,” Chelsea said. “Doctor Chelsea Brown. Welcome to the United States, Mrs Vanderbilt, Miss Tethis, Miss Fizit, Miss Liviana.” Then, grinning, she added. “And Mr. Brax.”
“That’s me!” Brax hissed excitedly, squirming.
“I will put you down if you promise to not go running off,” Liam said.
“I promise!” Brax said.
“He’s lying,” Fizit said, casually.
“Mom!” Brax squeaked.
“I’m getting terrifying visions of my own future,” Chelsea said, her hand going to her belly. “Come on. Let's get you all to decon and you can get into some, uh, Earthling clothes.”
“Oooh!” Meg eyes lit up and she clapped.
She was the only native Purgatorian to do so.
***
Liv stood in the decontamination chamber and hissed like a cat that had been dunked into ice cold water. She wriggled and squirmed, trying to keep some part of her body safe from the jets of water, slick with some kind of chemical. She spat and coughed as some got into her mouth. Once the spray was done, she started to shiver almost immediately. The first thing that Liam had forgotten to mention was that Earthers kept everything as fucking cold as they possibly fucking could.
A towel was dropped into the room and a voice – sounding bored and clipped – spoke: “Dry yourself off, then drop the towel in the incinerator. Also, uh, the doctors are telling me that they’re a bit concerned about the hair, Miss Liviana.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” Liv snarled.
“The various scanners we have say that most of the water’s not even getting in,” the voice sounded a bit impressed. “We know this is a lot to ask, but we need to be sure that no Purgatorian parasites get to the Terran ecosystem. We’ll be sending you a razor-”
“You want me to cut my hair!?” Liv spluttered. “And give you five feet of material components for sympathetic magic?”
“...beg pardon?”
Liv snorted and rolled her shoulders. She closed her eyes and focused on the tiny ping of power that continually roiled within her mind. She had trained it for almost a year without knowing it, giving her greater and more ferocious levels of strength and dexterity. But realizing that she had a choice in what power she could display had made her want to experiment. And so, she experimented. Her fists clenched and she sternly told her hair to do as she wished. She felt it starting to coil upwards, twisting and winding and binding. When she opened her eyes again, she could see herself reflected in the mirror-fine walls of the decontamination rooms, she saw her hair had become as short as when she had first met Liam.
She pursed her lips, then focused.
Her hair shimmered and turned blue.
“There we go,” she said.
“Holy shit.” The voice over the PA didn’t seem to realize they were transmitting.
***
Fizit pressed her palms against the wall and hissed in pure delight as the warm water splashed along her back. She wasn’t sure if they had warmed it up for her, or if everyone else was getting this treatment. Whatever it was, it felt great. Once the water had sluiced off, she grinned and walked over to the towel that the Earthers had dropped into the room. She started to rub it along her rump. After a few quick twists – holding both ends of the towel in her hands and wriggling a bit to ensure she got her entire scaled rear covered – she let the towel drop and admired her own behind.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “What was the term Liam used? MILF?” She grinned. “Very MILFy.”
Five stories away, in a contained control booth, Lt. Daniels, the woman in charge of the female decontamination security, sat and sweated. She looked at the screens piping the live, high definition footage from Fizit’s room. She watched as the curvaceous lizardwoman started to wipe off her breasts, leaving them as glittering and shiny as a pair of emerald mountains. She kept watching as Fizit leaned forward to start wiping at her shins. She kept watching as Fizit’s long, whip-lean tail lifted into the air and showed the soft folds of her green pussy. She watched as Fizit carefully started to tease water off the feathered frill that ran from her scalp to the tip of that tail, which forced Fizit to jiggle slightly from side to side as she tried to get every drop out.
Lt. Daniels slowly sighed.
“Annnnnnnnd,” she said. “I’m a furry now. Fuck.”
***
“Oohh gods yes,” Meg groaned, her head hanging forward as she arched her spine like a pleased cat. Liam rolled his eyes.
“Can you not?” he asked. “We’re under camera, uh, and I don’t want to...you know...” He glanced at the walls. The cameras were hidden. He wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. But then Meg accidentally bumped her rump against his groin. This caught his cock between her ass-cheeks and she quickly stood on her tippy toes to trap his slick, water-soaked cock by her perfect, peach-round rump. Her wings spread and she grinned wickedly over her shoulders.
“Keep on scrubbing,” she purred.
Liam flushed, hard. “We’re on camera. That means people are... fuck that’s just tempting you more, isn’t it?”
Meg’s eyes gleamed with pure villainy. She shifted her hips and actually hopped slightly off the floor. It was a move that was born of superhuman agility and strength and simple practice. It ended with Liam’s cocktip grinding against her ass, her taint, and then between her thighs, where she trapped it as she landed, so that he couldn’t do anything but bump against her pussy. She stood and crooned.
“Dr. Brown was the one who said that I‘d need someone to scrub my wings.” She whispered. “Every. Single. Feather.” She twitched her wing.
Liam shuddered and closed his eyes. His hands went to her hips, squeezing as he started to slide them along her belly. He could feel the tautness of her muscles. He knew where this would end. It would end with his palms cupping and squeezing what remained, to him, the most perfect breasts in all of Purgatory. Hell, in all of the solar system now. He knew that there were better, from an academic standpoint. Hell, Fizit was heftier. Tethis seemed larger due to her small size. Liv was fetchingly small and perky in her own way.
But Meg had his perfect breasts.
Because they were attached to his perfect woman.
Meg crooned as Liam’s fingers started to gently tweak her nipples. He ground and rocked against her, nuzzling her neck. The only thing souring the experience was the tangy, chemical taste that came from the water sprays. Fortunately, that had tapered off. Meg lifted one leg with a quiet hiss, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she stood on one foot with effortless ease. Liam squeezed her to him tighter. It had been a while since he fucked her like this.
“Vanderbilt!”
The booming voice that rang in his ears caused Liam to jerk back so fast that he nearly fell back against the wall. Meg yelped and grabbed onto the wall, denting the metal with a squeal.
“What!?” Liam yelped, staggering to his feet.
“This is your decontamination officer, Lt. Brooks!” The voice was filled with enough pissed off rage to cut through a bulkhead. “And we’ve been telling you, for the past two minutes, to towel off! Everyone else is through already!”
Meg frowned.
“Spoilsport.”
***
“Well, by all the gods,” Dr. Khatri said, rubbing his bushy beard with one hand. “You really are completely decontaminated.”
Tethis chuckled. “I don’t mind having that tested,” she said, rubbing her shoulders. Dr. Khatri had offered to come and check on her, even though he knew that it would require him going through decontamination if her spell hadn’t worked. That was enough to make Tethis like him. The fact he was clearly fascinated by magic was another point in his favor. All of that weighed far more than the fact that he was, by far, the strangest person that she had ever met. It wasn’t that his skin color was that unusual – by Purgatorian standards, he wasn’t even that dark. But thick beards were uncommon and she had never seen a headdress like that.
“Still, if we can replicate it, then we could speed up customs through the gate a great deal,” he said, nodding.
“Dr. Khatri!”
The voice drew both his and Tethis’ attention away from the tests that they had been examining. Another doctor – this one as pale as any woman that Tethis had ever seen – stood in the doorway.
“This is Dr. Summer, she’s the pediatrician that we called in for this visit,” Dr. Khatri said.
“What is she doing here?” Dr. Summer asked.
“Oh, Tethis here, or should I say Doctor Tethis,” Dr. Khatri said, cheerfully. “She was showing me her spell which can do an entire decontamination cycle in a few seconds. I had to test it to make sure that it was safe, but I cannot find a single flaw in it thus far.”
“Maybe you can explain this then,” Dr. Summer said, walking forward to show Tethis the tablet she had. “This is the bloodwork we did on Marion Vanderbilt and Brax Vanderbilt.”
Tethis took it, frowning.
“I have no idea what any of this is,” she said.
“R-Right!” Dr. Summer said, blushing. “But, uh, basically, they both show signs of being vaccinated. I was told Purgatory doesn’t even have disease as we understand it.”
“Oh, that was my spell!” Tethis said, cheerfully. “I based it off readings I took from Liam over the past few years.”
“Readings,” Dr. Summer said, slowly. She tucked the tablet into one of the huge pockets of her lab coat. “How did you take readings in...”
“A Bronze Age planet of sensual eroticism and mysterious magics?” Tethis asked, giggling. “Well, the basics are pretty simple, if you know any arcanic theory. Which...” She paused. “You don’t. Uh, do you have a stone tablet I can draw on and some chalk?”
***
“Uh, wing cramp! Wing cramp!” Meg squawked. “Make the hole bigger!”
“I’m trying!” Liam said, tugging. “Just, hold your wing shut a little bit-”
Meg was no longer able to keep her wing pressed in the unnatural position she had forced it into. Her muscles rebelled and she spread her wings to try and stretch out the cramp. Liam went skidding backwards, covered in the tattered remains of what had once been a cotton shirt.
***
Liv scowled as she looked down at herself. The pants were way too tight. How the hell was she going to kick anyone in these things?
***
Liam rubbed at his back as he walked out of the dressing room and saw the rest of his bizarre extended family. He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt himself. After years of being in nothing more restrictive than a kilt and some body armor, being in a three piece suit with fancy shoes and a belt and socks and everything, it felt like he was suffocating. Of course, he thought, it was possible that this would have been suffocating compared to jeans and a T-shirt. He rubbed at the collar of his shirt and tried to put on a brave face.
Brax looked like he was still getting the hang of wearing a shirt, since he had leaned his head around and was tugging at the shoulder with his teeth. Someone had covered his finger-tips in metal and cotton finger splints, taped into position. It looked like he had broken every single finger in his hands. Liam felt a moment of pure rage and fear – but then he saw the lack of concern on Brax’s face and instead sighed.
“Claws?” he asked.
“I tore the first three shirts, sorry,” Brax said, biting his lip. His teeth had left tiny, ragged rents on his shoulder.
Fizit looked…
Fizit looked like the most terrifyingly fuckable businesswoman that Liam had ever seen. She had been given a button up shirt with a suit jacket – clearly, someone had heard ‘head of the intelligence agency’ and gotten out whatever they’d give to some spook from the CIA. It fit her remarkably well, though her pants rode a bit low. She was missing a belt, and her tail was peeking over the back hem of her pants, which added a delicious hint of exposure to her otherwise professional look.
Tethis had been bundled up into a thick orange sweater with a shirt that looked like it was made for a woman about twice her height. Apparently, the people picking clothes for short-stacks had decided in favor of boobage over height. Liam had a sinking suspicion that that had been the right decision, as it was easier to tuck in a long shirt than it was to free boobs trapped in a shirt meant for a ten year old. She had also gotten some short shorts that, on her, hung almost to the knees.
Liv was the one who looked the closest to her normal – in that it was hard for her to look like anything but a faintly pissed off elf, even if she was in jeans and a T-shirt now. The thing that surprised Liam was her hair. But he made a note to ask her later.
Meg’s clothes he was the most familiar with, as they had needed to experiment four times to figure out that no matter how many times you sliced up a T-shirt, there was no way to get the wings through without either Meg’s ability to compress her wings or the T-shirt failing at some point. And so, someone on the base had scrounged up something that Liam had never before seen in his life.
It was called a Virgin Killer Sweater.
“It is the best thing since sliced bread,” Meg purred, her hands slipping along the gray colored sweater that barely managed to contain her breasts, which themselves were barely contained by a hastily converted bra, which itself had been a trial to get on without cutting off circulation to her wings. The Sweater itself covered her chest, looped around her neck, but then had nothing at the back. It was simply empty space from the neck loop to the curve of her ass, where it tied together again. This meant the front strained against her belly and breasts, and her wings were perfectly free.
“It’d almost be better if she went naked,” a muttered voice drew Liam’s attention.
Yet another military bigwig was approaching down the corridor, followed by Chelsea. He was an older looking Asian fellow – and Liam was pretty sure he had seen him before, when he had met the President. Dredging up a name, he held out his hand.
“General Sung?” he asked.
“Ambassador Vanderbilt,” Sung said, taking his hand.
They shook.
“Welcome to Earth.” He grinned. “Officially, this time.”
Liam laughed.
The general walked with them through the facility. The old bunker that had become the United States’ first faster-than-light starport had been hastily converted, and the signs of continuing work were everywhere. Men in reflective vests and security badges worked at various walls, taking off ancient looking metal plates to reveal ducting and wire work that might have come right out of the Cold War. Considering the original rationale behind the construction of the bunker, Liam wouldn’t have been shocked.
“You’ll have an escort,” General Sung said. “To ensure that none of the crazies bother you.”
“How bad is it?” Liam asked.
“Well, after your, ah, gods,” Sung said, making sure to emphasise how lower case that ‘g’ was. “Did their little meet and greet, this bunker has had to fend off at least two active shooters. Don’t worry.” He smiled at Fizit, who had hissed like a tea-kettle. “They weren’t exactly the kind of people who’d get past the first layer of defense. One was a fundamentalist baptist of some kind or another, I can never keep them straight. The other was a Muslim.” He shrugged. “But that’s just the people who’ve made it to the bunker.”
“I thought this place was supposed to be a secret,” Fizit said, her tail lashing from side to side.
“Well, it was a secret for about a week and a half,” Sung said. “But every government in the world started asking their scientists how we might have done it. The theory is, apparently, common enough among the high energy physicist communities that the same trick that Dr. Brown used to figure out the star-gate in the first place was replicated and...” He spread his hands. “There you go.”
“You figured that out?” Liam asked, looking at Chelsea. She was waddling along at a comfortable clip. If keeping pace with them made her uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. Her grin was playful.
“I had motivation.”
“She means your diiiiiick,” Meg whispered, sotto voce, to Liam.
“Is Mom talking about-” Brax asked, wriggling excitedly in Liam’s arms.
“Meg!” Fizit hissed.
“What?” Meg asked, her wings mantling.
Sung looked like he had bitten down on a lemon. Chelsea was either less of a prude (and considering how fast she had jumped Liam’s bones that seemed likely) or she was just getting used to Purgatorian attitudes towards sex. Either way, her smile was playful. “It was actually how I met my husband.”
Meg grinned. “Even when not present, my husband’s dong is magical.”
Fizit, who had managed to clap her hands over Brax’s ears-tufts, hissed like a tea kettle thrown into a star.
They, finally, reached the elevators that led to the exit of the bunker. Liam sighed. “So, uh, how did my mom take it?” he asked. “I...I’ve wanted to talk to her for so long. I always worried that she’d be, like...” He shook his head, trailing off. The amount of emotions that he had taken out and pondered for literal years smote him. Every quiet evening for the first few months on Purgatory, he had laid in bed, looking at the ceiling. He had felt the closeness of Meg (and later, Tethis and Liv and Mary and Fizit) and he had been happy. But there had always been thoughts of the life he had left behind. Those thoughts had grown less and less frequent.
Now they were back. All at the same time.
Sung coughed. “I see that the message didn’t reach you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wish that you’d be hearing this from one of the State Department flacks, but...” He looked at Liam.
Liam looked at him.
And Sung told him.
The elevator door started to close and every workman in the corridor looked up at the sound of Liam’s furious bellow: “You fucking what!?”
***
“So, what do you think of the news? Crazy, huh?”
Lucy Vanderbilt shrugged slightly as she stirred her cocktail. The dating app she was trying – Cougrr – had promised that the fee for entrance combined with its top of the line algorithmic sorting software would deliver a higher class of man into her life. Looking at the slimy looking, used car salesman type that was filling the seat across from her, Lucy was less than convinced. She shrugged slightly and sighed.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if it wasn’t for the footage. And even that was a bit much.” She sipped her drink and wondered when the waiter was going to come by with their bread.
“Well,” the man began. His name was already a bit hard to place. Was it Simon? Or Gideon? Something with an ‘ion’ at the end, she could remember that. “I’m just wondering what it’s going to do to the Middle East.”
“Oh?” Lucy asked.
“Well, you know how they are,” the man said, shrugging slightly.
“Oh,” Lucy said. Mr. Vibrator was definitely in her future tonight.
“And, listen, I’ve worked there for years.” He nodded, tapping his chest, puffing up slightly. “And even after all that, I can’t tell what’s going to set them off.”
“Ah,” Lucy said, looking down at her drink. It was gone now. She pursed her lips slightly. “W-What do you do in the Middle East?”
“Oil,” the man said, grinning. He looked like he was pretty damn sure that’d get her even more into him. His eyes dipped to her dress. Lucy frowned ever so slightly.
“I heard that this Purgatory place has a lot of interesting things,” she said, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s supposed to be a jungle planet, according to what the news networks have said. That means it’ll have plenty of oil. Assuming, of course, the return of Hephaestus, the god of smiting and mechanics, doesn’t upset the energy market.” She smirked. “Or do you think that he couldn’t invent a cold fusion reactor that’s cheap enough to be built in your backyard.” She shrugged.
The slimy man coughed. “W-Well, uh...” He rubbed his collar. “That sounds a bit like a pipe dream. Besides, uh, you don’t really buy that they’re gods, right?”
“Of course not literal gods. Just beings who have demonstrated superhuman ability on live television, and they seem to be friendly with the United States.” Lucy said. She shrugged ever so slightly, careful to keep her arms over her chest. No sense giving this guy a show. “OPEC countries might not be the best long term investments.”
The slimy man nodded. “Yeah. Well.” He paused. “Did you see, uh, any good movies?”
The waiter came with bread and refills for the water. Lucy sipped her water once, smiled, and said: “I need to freshen up. Be right back.”
The restaurant's bathrooms were near the back, hidden from view by a thin half-wall topped by artificial greenery. Lucy looked around for some kind of exit for a few seconds before a quiet cough drew her attention. She turned and saw a smiling waitress.
“Need an escape?” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Lucy said.
The waitress glanced back, looking through the fake shrubbery. She found Lucy’s table and clicked her tongue. “Him again?”
“I should add some choice anonymous comments to Cougrrr,” Lucy said, her voice dry.
The waitress chuckled, then glanced Lucy over. Lucy’s cheeks heated as she saw the interest in the other girl’s eyes. Fortunately, the waitress either guessed that now was a bad time, or she remembered that she was on duty. Instead of saying anything, she pointed. “The back exit’s that way.” She winked. “Come again, next time you swipe right.”
Once outside, Lucy thought about switching on her phone to see if there was any fresh news about Purgatory. Unlike most of her congregation and most of her coworkers and most of her friends, she was excited by this. Yes, to see human beings (or human-like beings) claim to be gods was faintly sacrilegious. But she had never saw the point of yelling at someone over their belief, unless it was directly threatening her livelihood. God would sort it all out in the end. But the promises of their abilities was... exciting.
A pang struck her.
Liam had always been into science fiction and fantasy. She tried to imagine what he’d be saying about this.
Oh, Mom, he’d say. If Thor can call down lightning at will, maybe he could power up capacitors. And if mjolnir is even half as powerful as the legends say, well, maybe we could, like, figure out how that works. Oh, wait. Don’t let anyone let Loki see the Thor movies. He might get ticked off.
Lucy smiled to herself. Instead of turning on her phone, she walked through the parking lot, found her car, slipped in, and then drove out. As she drove home, she tapped her thumbs against the wheel. Street-lights flashed in her windshield and the darkness of night cloaked the suburbs she buzzed through in mystery. She found her eyes blurring despite herself. It had been two years. But she supposed that never being sad about the death of a child, even two years later, would be far worse than the alternative. She wiped at her eyes with her thumbs, driving slower as she sniffled.
Distracted, she almost rear-ended a parked car before she rounded the bend to her house. She and her husband had gotten the place before prices had skyrocketed in California, and held onto it stubbornly. The price had gone up and up and up, and she figured if she ever desperately needed a million dollars in a hurry, she could nix it. But for now, she was going to keep it.
Even if it was hard being the only woman in a house made for a family of five. But George had died before Liam had gotten any brothers or sisters. And now Liam was dead too. She shook her head.
“Man, one bad date, and you get maudlin as heck, Lucy,” she said, shaking her head, then drove up into the garage. As the garage door wheeled shut, something nudged at her mind. Her brow furrowed. There had been several dark vans parked on the street. Like, at least four. She stood up in her car, feeling a prickling fear slide along the small of her back. She reached into her purse and found the mace that she carried. She knew she was being absurd, but…
She opened the door.
And dropped the mace on the floor.
The living room held a ghost.
An exceptionally well dressed ghost.
Liam was pacing back and forth on his chin. “Why don’t you just interrupt the date? Or call her?”
A lean, limber looking Asian woman in clothes that could best be described as aggressively civilian, sat in Lucy’s favorite chair. She was looking around the room periodically, and she said: “Well, her phone’s off and it’s considered a breach of security when people might-” She stopped, looking at Lucy.
Liam turned to look at Lucy. Lucy felt the blood roaring in her ears.
Her son was very... odd for a ghost.
She’d have expected him to look the same. Instead, his skin was a few shades darker. His hair looked like it had been exposed to sun and wind and salt water. Also, he was definitely more muscular than he had been when the bomb blast had taken him from her. He was wearing a button up white shirt, a belt, and a set of black pants. The shirt’s sleeves had been rolled up, and she could see tiny seams of scars that definitely hadn’t been there the last time she had seen him. But the look in his eyes was exactly how she had remembered him.
“Hi Mom,” he said, his voice husky.
“Holy shit, that’s your mom?” A blonde haired, blue eyed woman leaned into Lucy’s line of sight. In contrast to the normal clothes of the others, her voluptuous body was contained in a single expanse of grayish cotton that looped around her neck and her hips, but left most of her sides and her back entirely exposed. That was not the most striking thing about her. Even her eyes, which glowed like a pair of LED lights, were not the most striking thing about her.
That was her wings. They were broad and pale white and intensely real. Seeing winged people on the TV was different from seeing them in person. There was a kind of horrifying realness that the mind wanted to rebel against. They had to be fake. They had to be fake.
“Dude,” the winged woman whispered. “Your mom is hot.”
“Meg!” Liam yelped.
Lucy felt as if she should faint. That would make things a great deal simpler. She could fall over and when she woke up, she could deal with this then. Instead, she stayed stubbornly conscious. She put her hands over her mouth and drew in a slow, shuddering breath. Liam stepped forward and suddenly, she was in his arms. And he was real. Her son was real and here and alive. He gave her one of his spine-cracking hugs and Lucy hissed. But she didn’t try to pull away. She simply clung to Liam and squeezed him back. When he set her back down, her knees were quivering.
“I’m going to go chew out my men for not giving us any heads up,” the Asian woman said, her voice a low growl. She stalked off. The winged woman – Meg? - waved after her. Lucy managed to walk to the sofa before sprawling back, her knees unable to keep her up.
“Sorry, Mom,” Liam said. “I didn’t mean to drop in like this. The State Department are keeping the details of my return, uh, secret. For at least a few days more.”
Lucy shook her head. Mom. She was being called Mom again. “W-What? How? Happen?” she gasped out.
Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where to start?”
Meg’s wings flared. “Your son touched an ancient artifact that sucked him into Purgatory, an alien laboratory used to research the gods of ancient Earth in safety. The gods overthrew their jailers but never learned the reasons behind their imprisonment, and the surviving aliens integrated with Purgatorian society and slowly forgot their history over the centuries. Dragged into this world, Liam met me – Megara – and saved my life. We became lovers and started doing odd jobs for the god Sobek. Over time, Liam was able to bring Earth innovations to Purgatory and became the leader of a small city state called Babylon and has been the steadfast opponent of Ares, the Greek god of War and current biggest douche in the universe. We got married, and have two children.” She smiled, slightly. “Which means I’m your daughter in law. Hi.” She nodded.
“T-That was... concise,” Lucy said, slowly.
Meg grinned. “While my fun loving personality often obscures the fact, I was trained in debate and rhetoric and logic. Also, I’ve studied the classics. Plato, Socrates, and now Einstein, Hawking, Descartes...”
“She pawed through my iPhone,” Liam said, grinning.
“Wait, did you say-” Lucy started.
Meg lifted up her hand, flashing a golden wedding band that looked as if it had come right off the shelf in some high end jewelry shop. “Tada!”
Lucy looked at her. Then she looked at Liam. Then she looked back at Meg. Slowly, she started to smile.
“C-Can I get you anything to drink, Meg?”
Meg opened her mouth. Liam coughed. Meg pouted. “Water.” She elbowed Liam. “Spoilsport. It’s not like she’s my biological mother.”
Lucy chose to not understand that.
In the kitchen, Lucy poured out some tap water. Meg watched with clear fascination, whistling quietly as she took the water. She drank it and sighed, smacking her lips.
“Y-You said kids?” Lucy asked.
Liam coughed and hemmed and hawed.
Meg smiled. “One’s the daughter of Liam’s friend and lover, Liviana of Sparta. She’s the daughter of Ares, but she hates him. Don’t worry about that.” She nodded. “She had a child with a lizardman general named Brax. When Brax died, Liam took on the role of Dad. And I’m Marion’s honorary Mom.” She nodded.
Lucy’s eyes brimmed with tears. She breathed in, then out, trying to control her voice. On the one hand, she wanted to ask Meg pointed questions about her casual attitude towards her son cheating on her. On the other hand, she couldn’t begin to express how deeply proud she was of Liam taking care of an orphan. “And how did Liv die?”
“Oh, she didn’t die,” Meg said.
“But you said-” Lucy’s brow furrowed.
“Liv is not a super motherly type,” Liam said, sounding like he was being strangled slowly to death. He tugged at the collar of his shirt.
“Anywho, the other kid is Brax. He’s the son of Liam and another one of his lovers, Fizit!” Meg said, cheerfully as she reached over to fill her glass again. She cooed happily. “Man, taps are ama-”
Lucy slammed her hands on the counter. “Liam Sebastian Vanderbilt!”
“Your middle name is Sebastian?” Meg hissed, her eyes widening.
Liam held up his hands as his mother turned on. Now, she couldn’t keep her anger out of her eyes. “How could you? You’re married!” she snarled. “I could understand straying once, even if it is very disappointing.” She shook her head. “But this? Twice!?”
“Technically,” Meg said. “Liam’s up to the low twenties in terms of girls.”
“Meg!” Liam squawked as Lucy lifted her hand to slap him. She clenched her fist and forced her hand down. She never hit Liam before, not once. She wasn’t going to do it now, even if he was, apparently, a philandering monster. With two kids as well! She thought she had raised him better than that.
Meg sighed. “Okay, while it is fun watching Liam squirm, I need to come clean...” She grinned. “I like to watch.”
Lucy turned to face Meg, her brow furrowing.
“I like to watch Liam! You know, bang other women,” Meg said, cheerfully.
Lucy gaped at her.
“O-Oh,” she said.
A long, pregnant silence filled the room, interrupted only by Meg filling her glass from the tap again and drinking the water down with a happy sigh. She set the glass down and smiled.
“So, it wasn’t cheating,” she said. Her wings flared. “Liam’s all good.”
Lucy blinked. “I feel like I need to sit down again.”
Once she was seated, Liam took her hand.
“Purgatory is a very different place from Earth,” he said, slowly. “But I’m proud of almost everything I did there. I’ve saved people, helped people. Met the woman I love.” He smiled at Meg, who blushed slightly. Lucy looked at her in wonder. She had thought that there’d be nothing in the world that could make that woman blush. But Liam’s simple admission of love had set her cheeks as scarlet as if she had been, well, any girl from down the road. Her wings flared outwards and Lucy blinked slowly as she realized that she was seeing a woman...mantle. And preen.
Like a bird.
That was surrealism on-top of surrealism.
“Where are these other women? Liv and, uh, who did you say was the mother of...” She paused. “Wait, you named him after the general?”
Liam nodded. “General Brax saved my life.” He paused. “After trying to kill me a few times. But, uh, Liv did the same, so it’s... okay?” He trailed off, looking at Lucy’s expression. He grinned sheepishly. “Purgatory!” He spread his hands, like he was on a vaudeville stage.
“Who's his mother?” Lucy asked.
“Fizit,” Liam said. “She’s, uh, you’ll like her. Are you feeling up to meeting the rest of them?”
Lucy breathed in a slow, shuddering breath, held it for a heart beat, then let it out. “No. But we might as well take the plunge.” She smiled at Liam, who grinned and sprang to his feet.
As he headed outside, Lucy looked at Meg. Meg smiled at her.
“So, uh, who was the Asian girl?” Lucy asked.
“Oh, that’s Simone. Well, Lieutenant Fong,” Meg said. “She was the CO of the team the USA sent to recover Liam. He fucked her too!”