Presh's Lie, Chapter One

A trio of Mini-Flashes proceeded through the airlock, two beige tunics led by Flashslip in his blue. That one shut off the distress-signal, flipping a switch on a panel close at hand.

Then he gasped.

Semiconscious on the cockpit’s single seat was another Mini-Flash of tumbling curls, these falling heavily over a pale brow beneath which were eyelashes and round peachy cheeks. The waterfall of tresses didn’t seem much abated by twin hair-ribbons, for all that these were tied in pretty bows. Their hue was matched by the rest of the girl’s uniform, which wrapped itself about the swells and dips of a diminutive but full torso, then left quivery thighs pink and bare before beginning again at the knee. This third neophyte was starting to stir.

Mini-Flash Meteor leaned summarily over her to check the flight-console.

“Carrying no cargo but on trajectory for Nottingham,” she reported. “Another one of Joe’s. I don’t know why The Flash Club doesn’t just start putting mattresses down.”

When neither of the boys responded, Meteor cast Mini-Flash Phytolith a sour sidelong glance.

“You might try reinserting those eyeballs,” she added to him in a whisper. “Our little commanding officer seems to have taken charge of gawping duty.”

“You two,” interjected Flashslip sternly. “Thick as thieves, as ever. Try to remember we’re on a rescue-mission.”

Meteor hushed up. Her bitter ruminations, however, did not.

For there’d been a time no boy would have dared address her thus. Least of all this pitiable first-gender specimen, his pants in a permanent twist over the galaxy’s stuffiest.

Thick as thieves, indeed. Ridiculous Earthling idioms picked up from 4-H-N’s prattle.

If he wanted to talk about rescue-missions, then how about the one when he and his equally hapless friends had needed saving from Schiss-Zazz? But those days were gone too. Half Mini-Flash Meteor’s gym lessons now she underwent with her smell on, which lent energy but neither coordination nor skill. If however she started the morning without tapping at least a test-tube or two, not even energy would come.

No wonder Mini-Flash Phytolith was the only one who ever wanted to go on duty with her.

And he couldn’t get enough. He hung around like a galactic gas-cloud.

Mini-Flash Meteor stood silent, hating Mini-Flash Phytolith, hating Flashslip, hating 4-H-N, hating everything.

Flashslip by now was before the recumbent female in a kneel, feeling somewhat like Prince Charming. Maybe he’d been talking to 4-H-N too much, but he was sure nobody had noticed.

“We heard your distress-signal,” he breathed. “What’s your name?”

The girl’s eyes opened and fell on Flashslip’s near-hectic expression, his youthful awkward concern, his wide wondering gaze.

She smiled at once.

“Mini-Flash Semiprecious,” came back the soft reply.

Nodding once, Flashslip rose, and steeled his resolve.

He must not glitch out of synch with the universe during what was now to come.

It was excruciating even when 4-H-N made it happen. Vanishing out of his clothes and reappearing seconds later, still without them. Then and only then did 4-H-N’s giggles work something other than happiness in Flashslip. He didn’t know why it should be harder to tell somebody you liked that it hurt when they teased you.

But the assistants he’d been lucky enough to land up with, surely the most slovenly and antisocial duo in the sector, made every assignment an ongoing struggle to win their respect.

Flashslip hadn’t done so yet.

He drew a deep breath.

Reaching out a hand to Mini-Flash Semiprecious he allowed her to enfold it in her moist tender clasp, and although Flashslip had to close his eyes, the first hurdle in this arduous slog was surmounted. Then he tugged, gulping at her weightiness, the potential of which left him light-headed. She was coming upright, nearing him.

Easy. Easy.

If either of those were to brush against his breast now…

Then it was over, without incident. He and she were face-to face.

“My hero,” said Mini-Flash Semiprecious. “I think you’d better call me Presh.”

Flashslip grinned back at her, almost delirious. He’d made it through. First time. First girl with whom he’d managed not to embarrass himself.

He led her directly to the airlock door, having not yet released the small hand. His two unspeaking neophyte companions saw fit to follow.

Even so, Mini-Flash Meteor couldn’t resist one last look askance at Mini-Flash Phytolith.

Unbelievable.

Still, it made a pleasant change from him staring at her.

Mini-Flash Semiprecious was sent for a checkup as soon as the party returned to Flash Club Headquarters. This was carried out by 4-H-N, who was nearing the end of her shift on the med-scanner. There was nothing in the least bit wrong as far as she could see, though that wasn’t quite the way 4-H-N phrased it as she retracted the scanner-arms and told the patient to step down.

“Good work, Mini-Flash 4-H-N,” declared Flashslip who’d stayed by, back turned and eyes squeezed shut, trying hard not to have a relapse after doing so well onboard the shuttle.

“It’s alright, Flashslip,” sang Mini-Flash Semiprecious, once she was dressed.

Flashslip about-faced, relaxing at last, while 4-H-N shut down the equipment and came out from behind it. “Not that a nurse’s work is ever done,” she declared. “Next appointment’s a near-hopeless case. Flashball therapy. But I refuse to give up on him!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Flashslip. “Sorry, 4-H-N. What with everything else today, I’d forgotten! I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel.”

“Little me making trouble,” added Mini-Flash Semiprecious, giving little me’s eyebrows a little lift.

“Her medical records,” Flashslip explained. “I ordered a search on the whole database but for some reason they haven’t shown up. So I’m in for a fun night of dredging old files.”

“But you’re off-duty,” protested 4-H-N.

Flashslip beamed brightly through his flushes.

“It’s just like you told us before, Mini-Flash 4-H-N,” said he. “Going the extra light-year. The present climate, you know. Every little helps, and we’ve all got to play our part in the name of bettering relations. Not that it’ll ever feel like a burden for we male Mini-Flashes, as long as Joe insists on sending only his very loveliest ambassadors…!”

“Oh, Flashslip,” laughed Mini-Flash Semiprecious fondly. “This ambassador’s lucky to have the sweetest tour-guide in The Flash Club!”

4-H-N surveyed the pair of them.

“I should probably return to my room now,” Mini-Flash Semiprecious went on.

“Yes, you go and rest your dainty toes after that exhausting medical scan,” said 4-H-N.

Flashslip put his arm around Mini-Flash Semiprecious.

“I’ll walk you there,” he said firmly into the uncomfortable hush, and as they departed, threw 4-H-N a look which asked if there’d been any need for that.

And there hadn’t been.

4-H-N knew it as she stood alone in the medical bay. It was exactly the sort of thing she was supposed to be trying her hardest to avoid.

Now would be a great time to leave it. Let it slide. Move on.

4-H-N knew that too. Somehow though, it seemed a better time to decide there and then Flashslip wasn’t going to be the only one spending his evening in front of a screen.

TO BE CONTINUED