Lauria walked down the ramp out of the ship that had delivered her from orbit to the roof of the Venturi Industries building. Together, she and Jules had decided that they would act like nothing was wrong. Jules would stay on the ship, do nothing, and they would go back to the Creator together and work this out.

Despite the circumstances of Jules’ deception, return, and apparent psychosis she smiled as she emerged from the little ship that had brought her back to Earth. Fuck, I hadn’t even realized that I missed the sky.

It was a clear day, with the sort of depthless blue that made her think of a movie. She was above the city’s normal haze, and the unmistakable skyline of New York city pulled her eyes as she approached a row of pallets covered in boxes.

To her relief she recognized some of the boxes at a glance. One pallet was covered with sealed boxes of soap. The branding on the sides of the boxes made her roll her eyes, but she knew the nature of the Governance competition meant that someone had probably negotiated to make those labels so visible. Another pallet had a few dozen boxes of women’s sanitary products, another shampoo brands that were unmistakable. She was able to verify all but one of the pallets at a glance, but still pulled out her manifest and did her due diligence, checking items off her list one at a time. “These look good.” She said, nodding to two burly men waiting with jacks that they used to begin loading the goods.

She approached the final pallet. It wasn’t wrapped like the others, and a very well-dressed man and a beautiful woman were standing next to it. The woman held a clipboard and gestured her over. She looks vaguely familiar, Lauria thought idly, but most of her attention was focused on the boxes. These are the medicines that will keep our ship healthy for the next few months.

Confirming the contents of each individual box took her about a half an hour. She wasn’t feeling sociable on account of her worry over Jules, so she ignored the two people guarding her haul. By the time she crossed the final item off her list, she was sweaty, annoyed, and relieved that she wouldn’t have to requisition any additional materials. The Creator’s orbit had already been slowed to allow her some extra time on the surface, but if she missed her deadline she would have to wait longer than she could afford to get back to her patients.

Plus, the longer we are on the ground the better chance that Jules will be discovered.

“All right. Wrap this up and get it on the fucking ship.”

Finally, she looked up at the pair that had been shadowing her since she landed. “Thanks for getting this here. Turns out it’s hard to plan for the medical needs of a thousand people, especially if you are a couple of know-it-alls with more marketing researchers on staff than doctors.”

Letting some of her real anger seep into her comment improved her mood just a bit. Fucking Jules and Callisto thinking just because they are billionaires they can plan a year-long bottle episode. She continued, “It’s nice to work with someone competent.” She managed a real smile at the two.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Both returned the smile, though the woman’s was a bit strained. The man replied, “We are glad to help.” That voice is fucking beautiful. “We are as captivated by the drama taking place on that ship as the rest of the world is. My little cousins will be badgering me non-stop for the story of what happened here today.”

He paused, and Lauria remembered what was to come next. “Well, let’s give ‘em a little more to talk about.”

She turned back to the vessel that would shortly be returning her to space. Approaching the ramp, she walked a few steps up and pulled a lever that released a rotating arm. At the end of that arm was a screen that she turned on with a touch. It revealed a view of herself, the platform, and the city skyline.

“Fuck’s sake.” She grumbled at her somewhat disheveled appearance. Focusing on fixing her hair let her ignore the lost look in her eyes. When her gaze swung to dripping lines of black mascara she couldn’t ignore the realization that was growing in her. Julius Paine is no longer my boyfriend, he’s my patient.

Shaking her head gently to clear that unwelcome thought, she seized on the last thing she had been thinking, “Why the fuck am I worring about smudged make-up?” She complained. That didn’t stop her from rubbing her fingers over the worst of the marks on her face, smoothing them into relative order.

Seeing the pair behind her on the screen she called out to them. “Listen, I’ve got to make a little speech here. If you don’t want to be broadcast to a fuckload of people you better clear the shot.”

The gentleman (when had I started thinking of him like that?) practically fled out of the camera’s frame. The woman followed suit without the same sense of urgency.

“Aight Grace, give me the speech and let’s do the damn thing.”

Lauria saw a countdown superimpose itself over her own image. When it fell to one she began reading the words streaming off the makeshift teleprompter they had worked out for today’s speech.

Not really following what she was reading, Lauria informed the world about the Governance project’s investment into research and containment of a novel virus that was surging down the Alaskan coastline. She urged North Asian governments to be on the lookout for cases of the disease and to plan for quarantines and treatment centers. She called attention to the WHO’s response team that had deployed to the region earlier that week and offered them her gratitude. Before she knew it the speech was done. Thank Christ for that.

Grateful her personal hell was over, she turned and waved farewell to those she saw on the roof. She walked up the ramp and heard it clattering shut behind her. The hiss of the vacuum seal engaging reassured her as she hurried to strap herself in to the vessel’s copilot chair.

Grace’s voice informed her, “Time to go.”

The ship took off and she breathed a sigh of relief. Stress she hadn’t known she was holding leaked from between her shoulders.

“Okay Jules. We made it. Come on out, and we can figure out what the hell to do with your sorry ass.”

She didn’t hear a response and felt the stirring of fear. “Not funny sweetie. Get out here now. I’m not laughing.” She said again, hoping, but in her heart she knew. He was no longer on the ship.

He fucking abandoned me again.