Chapter 51: Landings

“Down two. Fifteen meters,” Todd Walton, the landing pilot on ‘Selene’ said calmly over the radio. The image on the screen showed a split view of the landing radar display and the image outside the spacecraft as it neared the lunar surface.

I gripped the edge of the desk and watched the telemetry display on my own console. With the nearly one-and-a-half second transmission lag, there was little real-time advice any of us at Learmonth could give them. We all watched intently, trying to will them safely down.

“Down one, ten meters.” Ten seconds to go.

“Contact!”

We held our breaths.

“Control, Selene has landed!” Marco the mission commander announced.

A cheer went up through the control center. I glanced over my shoulder to see the gallery on its feet as well. Kelly was hugging the kids and our friends clapped and joined in the excitement. I gave them a quick wave and then turned back to the console as Terry walked through the post landing checklist.

“‘Selene’, this is control,” he said a few minute later. “We show all systems set for surface operations. Congratulations on a beautiful landing, over.”

“Thanks control. We’re all pretty excited to be here, too.”

I keyed my microphone. “Team Luna and crew of Selene, this is Control Actual. Twenty-nine years ago, the first men landed on the moon. Twenty-six years ago, the last men visited the moon. Today, your names will join the list of those twelve who have made that journey before you. Today, you will step not just from Earth to the moon, but into the annals of history. Today, we all congratulate you and thank you for returning the dream of the moon to all mankind.”

I felt hands pat my shoulder as I released the mic key.

“Control, this is ‘Selene’, thank you for giving us all this opportunity and supporting us in this journey. I speak for the entire team when I personally say thank-you, Paul Taylor, for giving us back our dreams and helping us realize them.”

The team in the control center broke into applause, along with the gallery. I wiped a tear from my eye, thrilled at what we had accomplished, but saddened that Jeryl could not share it with me.

Terry saw my face and took over comms again.

“Selene, control, we know you are anxious to begin your EVA schedule but we need to move on to system checks prior to folks suiting up. Please confirm checklist PL-204 is complete.”

It was as if a switch had been flipped and everyone was back to looking at their consoles and checklists. I took off my comm headset and made my way to the gallery. Ali and Jer hugged me in excitement as I stepped into the glassed-walled room. Everyone tried to shake my hand or pat my back.

“Daddy, when can we go there?” Ali asked as I took her hand when Tamara guided Kelly and I to the press room.

I smiled at my little daredevil. “How about you get your pilot’s license first, so you can fly us there?” I said.

She nodded seriously. “Okay.”

Tamara and Billy had the press organized and waiting for us. While our primary media relations efforts were running out of Park City under Billy’s supervision, she had insisted I do a session from Learmonth, immediately after the landing. I read my prepared statement, making sure to thank our Australian host embodied by Prime Minister Keaton, and our charter sponsor represented by Kelly. We then opened it up for questions.

“Paul, what are the goals of the mission, beyond returning to the moon?” the first reporter asked.

“The mission objectives are to prove our landing capability and conduct geological sampling similar to what the original Apollo program did. Since we are planning on staying on the lunar surface for a much longer period of time, we expect to cover a much larger set of sampling activity as well as exploring some of the unique geological features of the Aristarchus Plateau.”

“What do you hope to find there?” another reporter asked.

“We know from our prior missions that there is a strong concentration of titanium oxide as well as ferrous iron which would give us the ability to generate oxygen on the lunar surface for long term habitation. If suitable sources are found, we would conduct further evaluations of the site for establishing a long-term base on the moon.”

That caused a clamor in the room.

The questions went on until Tamara signaled an end and I was able to head back into mission control. Ali and Jer stayed with Aunt Kelly and Aunt Jyl in the gallery as we watched the crew finish their preparations for their first EVA.

The original Apollo plan had been for landing to be followed by a rest period. We knew our team was not going to go to bed for even four hours after they landed and had planned accordingly. We also planned for live coverage of the event with a bit better technology than the original explorers took with them.

Delilah Simpson was the eighth member of the crew and the most experienced remotely piloted vehicle operator we had. From her control console in the command module of the ‘Selene’, she deftly unlimbered the robotic arm from its storage compartment and set a remote camera up on the lunar surface outside the primary airlock. She then used the arm to provide a back-up camera as Megan Light, Team Luna’s second in command began the airlock cycle.

The team had decided a man returning to the moon was newsworthy, but that a woman stepping on the moon was historic. They planned their excursion for its historical impact as well as mission efficiency. Megan was not identifiable as a woman in her bulky spacesuit, but her voice left no doubt.

“This was one small step for a man,” she said, “and a giant leap for mankind. For Team Luna, it is still but a step; but the first of many on our journey back to the moon.”

The next three team members in the EVA team followed her out. They touched gloves and posed before the cameras and then Marco began getting them back on task with the mission checklists. Megan began a walk-around of the ship, filming with a handheld camera, as the other members of the team began un-stowing scientific instruments and the battery powered rover for longer range exploration. While it was exciting thinking about what they were doing and accomplishing, it was not very exciting to watch. After the initial exuberance faded, I turned my chair over to Victor from Lockheed and headed toward the beach house where we were staying. The kids held my hands as the Tarrington’s, Kelly and her entourage of security followed along.

Philip surprised us with a lavish spread of food and drink as we turned the television on to watch the coverage of our news around the world. It was surreal watching myself on the set as snippets of my press briefing were incorporated into the coverage. After an hour or so, I slipped outside and carried a glass of red wine to the sand dune separating the house from the beach proper.

Kelly found me there.

“How are you doing?” she asked as she sat next to me set a fresh bottle of wine between us.

“Numb,” I admitted after finishing my glass and reaching to refill it from the fresh bottle. “This mission has kept me going for months. I know it’s not over yet, but it feels like an ending, not a beginning.”

Kelly nodded.

“You need to take a break,” she said.

I sighed. “I know. But when I stop doing, I start feeling. Jeryl was supposed to be beside me for this.”

“I know exactly what you mean. I keep thinking Matthew should be by my side, too.” She sipped her own wine and looked at the breakers rolling into the beach.

We sat for a few minutes.

“Paul, we never really had a normal sibling relationship since we were both pretty much set in our ways when we met. I know you’ve been driven since your early teens. That drive has made you incredibly successful, but maybe it’s time to turn it off for a little bit.”

“What do you mean?”

She paused and looked me in the eye. “Do something just for you. Don’t worry about what Jeryl would think, what the kids will think, what Mom and Dad might think. Just throw caution to the wind for a month or two and get out of your own head.”

I forced a chuckle. “Go sow my wild oats?” I asked.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to unwind, do it,” she replied, surprising me. “Hell, I know twenty attractive women who would line up to just be seen on your arm at an event. I’m pretty sure they would all screw you senseless by the end of the night as well, except a few that are probably dead-ass fucks.”

Her jocularity made me laugh.

“I don’t think I need a bunch of gold diggers chasing after me.”

“That’s what I mean,” she interrupted. “So, what if they are gold diggers? If they are attractive and pleasant to you, screw them ... or don’t. Just do what you feel like without expectations.”

I shook my head. “Even if I wanted to be that selfish, I have to think about the kids. Money is no problem, but money can’t raise them for me.”

Kelly shrugged. “It’s the summer. Send them to camp. Hell, if you want to share an adventure with them, bring them along wherever you go, but also bring a nanny or governess so you can do things without worrying about them.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t think I’m ready to do that sort of thing.”

Kelly shook her head. “You’ll never be ready until you’ve actually done it. Trust me on this. I spent a lot of time getting through the loss of Matthew. You have to learn that it is something you get through, not something to get over.”

“I hear what you’re saying. It’s hard to do.”

“No, it’s hard to start. It’s easy to do once you start,” she countered.

“So, how do I start?” I asked.

“Go inside, thank everyone for coming, tell the kids they’re going to visit Aunt Kelly who is taking a little vacation, grab whatever security you need, and go hop on that rocket plane of yours. On the flight, tell your team to handle things while you take a little vacation.”

“Where would I go?”

“Where haven’t you been?”

“Lots of places.”

“Then pick one and start there.”

I shook my head.

“Stop it,” Kelly commanded. “Don’t think, just do it.”

I started to say something, but she raised her hand.

“I’m serious, Paul. The world won’t end if you take a break. The kids won’t hate you or shut you out. I’ll take care of them and then hand them off to two sets of loving grandparents. If you’re not back by the time school rolls around, I’ll make certain they get home and start safely. You did some hard things for me when I needed it the most. Let me do this for you.”

He eyes told me she was serious. I had seen the pursing of her lips and steely stare in too many business settings to doubt her. Slowly, I nodded my head. She gave me a tight smile and then picked up my glass and made a shooing motion.

I stood, turned and headed back toward the house.

“You look familiar,” a pleasant voice said as I sat at a small table in front of a cafe on the Avenue d’Ostende in Monte Carlo.

I had taken Kelly at her word, thanked all of my guests, kissed the kids goodbye, and flown from Learmonth to Dublin with Nicole in tow. In Dublin, I had switched from the GOT to a leased GS-3 and flown to Monaco. That had been a week ago.

I glanced up from my newspaper and saw a petite, dark-haired, graceful young woman standing before me. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of designer sunglasses. While attractive, I did not recognize her.

“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met,” I replied.

“Oh, my!” she exclaimed. “I recognize you now.”

She pulled off her sunglasses, revealing sparkling blue eyes. “I’m Imogene Larson,” she said as she stuck her hand out to me. “I’m a huge fan,” she added.

I smiled at her energy and attitude as I shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Imogene Larson,” I said.

“I can’t believe I just ran into you on the street here and thought I knew you. My gosh, I must sound like a complete idiot,” she said in a rushed, stream of consciousness manner. I could not help but smile.

“You sound excited, not stupid. Would you care to join me?” I asked as I motioned toward the chair opposite me.

Imogene glanced at her watch, looked up the street, and then nodded before sitting. “Thank you. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I still can’t believe I just ran into you on the street. You must get tired of fans mobbing you all the time,” she said as she set a soft-sided bag on the ground next to her.

“You’re actually the first person to notice me here in Monaco,” I said. “I’ve been coming out for a late morning coffee all week and no one has given me a second glance.”

She smiled broadly. “I guess the sophisticated Europeans don’t want to fawn all over you. I know a few others from the troupe who would be pulling up chairs if they saw us chatting. I mean, every one of us has seen you on TV, either on your show, or on the news. I’m surprised you’re just sitting here having a coffee, what with all the things you’ve got going on.”

“Everyone needs a break once in a while. It’s been too long since my last one.”

I waved at the waiter and motioned for another coffee and one for Imogene.

“So, what brings you to Monte Carlo?” I asked.

“We’re performing here. I’m with the American Ballet Theatre and we’re performing here at the Les Ballets de Monte Carlo. We’re performing Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty. I’ll be a soloist in it, dancing the role of the Lilac Fairy. It’s my first soloist role on tour. I’m pretty excited about the opportunity.”

I had never spent much time learning anything about ballet, but her enthusiasm was infectious. I asked what it meant to be a soloist and was soon drawn into an animated lecture on the different roles in the troupe.

“But enough about me,” she said after taking a long sip of her coffee. “What have you been doing on your break here in dreary old Monaco?” she asked with a laugh.

“Not much, actually,” I admitted. “I’ve done some of the tourist things, like the beach, and casino, but other than that, not much at all.”

“Really? I mean, we’ve been here for two days, practicing every day, and I’ve still done that much.”

I smiled. “It has been a few busy months for me.”

She blushed and then her eyes went wide. “Oh, my God! I am so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes. “I always talk too much and think too little.”

“It’s alright,” I said, reaching across the table to pat her hand. “Honestly, it’s nice to have a conversation where I don’t think about the past year too much.”

I was embarrassed to realize I had been taking Kelly’s advice to heart, and not thinking or feeling for the past week.

“So, when does the production open?” I asked.

Imogene smiled. “Tonight. I’d invite you, but they don’t give us tickets and it has been sold out for weeks.”

I smiled back. “If I make it through the door, should I bring you flowers?” I asked.

She blushed again and slapped my hand. “Don’t tease me. I’m sure you have something better to do than bring flowers to a first-time soloist. Besides, I told you it was sold out.”

She looked at her watch again and then gave me a small smile.

“Would you think poorly of me, if I asked to take a picture with you? My sister will never believe I met you in person. She’s always saying ballet is a dead-end career, despite being envious of the places I get to visit while she works as an accountant.”

“I’d be happy to have my picture taken with you,” I said.

She hopped out of her chair and grabbed the passing waiter as she pushed a compact camera into his hands. A moment later, she was back in her seat, holding my hands in hers, and beaming at the camera. The small flash blinded us before she hopped up again, circled the small table, and draped her arms around my neck for another shot.

“Thank you so much,” she gushed before darting in to kiss my cheek. “I really am glad I met you, but I have to run. We’ve got a final walk-through this morning that I can’t be late for.”

Before I could say anything, she grabbed her bag, her camera, gave me another quick kiss on the cheek and then raced down the street. She paused just long enough at the corner to check traffic before blowing me a kiss and prancing across the road.

I looked back at my coffee and paper. Kelly’s words echoed in my head. I pulled some cash from my pocket, dropped it on the table, stood, and headed back to the Hotel Hermitage, just around the corner. Nicole greeted me on the short walk.

“You have an admirer,” she said as she joined me.

I nodded, not trusting my thoughts or tongue.

“She is very pretty,” Nicole said.

“She’s very energetic,” I replied.

Nicole nodded. “Energetic can be good, yes?” She asked with a sly smile.

I shook my head and headed for the concierge’s desk inside the hotel.

Ten hours later, I was the owner of a new tuxedo, and sitting in the Royal box at the Opera House as the lights dimmed for the show. Princess Caroline was sitting next to me. Aside from buying a new suit, my day had consisted of being informed by the concierge that there was no hope in getting last minute tickets to the ballet, followed by seven phone calls. The first had been to Kelly, followed by a call to the U.S. Consul General in Marseille, followed by a local conversation with the Minister of State for Monaco. The fourth call had been with Prince Rainier, the fifth with my team in Ireland to direct an order for a new fusion power station in Monaco, and the sixth call with the Minister of State once again. My final call, received a couple of hours after the sixth, was from Princess Caroline’s private secretary, enquiring into his availability to escort Her Royal Highness to the premier of the American Ballet Theatre at the Opera de Monte-Carlo.

I had been happy to accept the invitation and act as an escort to Her Royal Highness.

Princess Caroline was witty and refined. She thanked me for the pleasure of my company while really expressing her thanks for giving her country a sweetheart deal on power. She asked about my sudden interest in ballet and I deflected her with a description of trying to live a little more by whim and wit than careful plan. She seemed to understand.

Sleeping Beauty is one of the longer ballets, the Princess explained to me. Fortunately, we were not going to see the full four-hour performance. She hinted that sitting through the full show might scare me away from the theatre in the future. Before I could reply, the lights dimmed, and the show began. The music was powerful and poignant while the dancers performed flawlessly to my untrained eye. I was fascinated by the play of muscle and expression, the emotions the dancers evoked through movement. It was really quite beautiful.

Many local and international dignitaries greeted us during the intermissions. Princess Caroline laughed back in the box. “All the tabloids will have us dating by the morning,” she teased. “I really hate the vultures in the press, so don’t take it personally when they start reporting our torrid affair and breakup.”

I could only shake my head. By the time the final bows were taken, it was nearing eleven o’clock. I escorted the princess to the private reception where the troop was introduced to Her Royal Highness, and her escort for the evening.

Imogene, still dressed as the Lilac Fairy grinned at me after curtsying to the princess.

“I guess you managed to find a ticket to the ballet,” she teased. I then had to explain how I knew the attractive, petite dancer to the princess.

Caroline had mirth in her eyes when she smiled at me. “You must have made quite an impression, dear,” she said to Imogene. “Mr. Taylor spent several million dollars to be here tonight.”

Imogene’s eyes went wide.

“What did you do?” She asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing much. I just made some phone calls.”

Caroline laughed and handed me off to Imogene. “I think you should accept an invitation to a late dinner and hear the full tale,” the princess said.

Imogene looked at me with big eyes. For the first time since meeting her, she appeared to be speechless.

By the time we exited the opera house and strolled toward the casino, her easy smile had returned but her voice was still absent. She had changed quickly, looking beautiful in a curve-hugging little black dress and three-inch sling back shoes. While she was petite, she was also perfectly proportioned, and the cinched waist of her dress accented both her thin waist and long neck. She looked stunning.

“You look more beautiful out of your costume and makeup,” I said.

She smirked, and her voice returned with a laugh. “You haven’t seen me out of my costume.” She paused and did a little spin for me before closing to grab my arm. “Yet,” she added.

The only thing that did not go with her outfit was her bulky dance bag. I motioned to an attendant at the casino entrance, took the bag, and asked if he could have it sent over to the Hotel Hermitage. I slipped him a 500-franc banknote. He glanced at the bill and smiled before saying “Oui!” and heading for the door.

“Did you really just give him a hundred bucks to carry a bag two blocks?”

I shrugged. “I wanted to save you the hassle of carrying it,” I replied.

She hugged herself to my arm and smiled.

“So how did you like the ballet?” she asked as we strolled through the casino.

“I really enjoyed it. You were amazing, by the way. You are so graceful and talented. You definitely make me look like a clod.”

She laughed. “Hardly. You move very well and look so dashing in your tuxedo. I wish my heels were just a tad higher.”

“After spending so much time on your toes, I’m surprised you’re not in flats,” I commented.

“I’m five-five. You’re at least six-two. There is no way I’m walking to dinner in some fancy restaurant with you in flats,” she teased. “Besides, I didn’t have any flats that went with this dress in my bag.”

“Oh? I thought that was just your dance stuff,” I said as we crossed a street and entered a small plaza filled with cafes and shops.

She laughed again. “No, we’re all expected to have at least one decent outfit in case there is a function after a show. I also have some casual clothes in there in case I want to run out between shows or rehearsal. I do have a couple of pair of shoes and ‘dance stuff’, as you call it in there as well. I also pack snacks and water for the day. Sometimes I feel a little nomadic since it feels like I live out of that bag and a suitcase during the touring season.”

“You must love it,” I said. “I prefer to go someplace and stay put for a while.”

“Really? Every time I hear about you in the news, you’re in a different city or country. I’ll need to tour for years to catch up with you.”

“It’s not really a competition.”

She blushed. “Sorry, but I am competitive. You kind of have to be in dance. I started ballet at three. I’ve worked hard for every advancement I’ve gotten. I still have a lot of hard work to do to become a principal dancer. Every girl in the corps is looking to take my spot as a soloist or beat me to becoming a principal.”

“Wow, I had no idea it was that tough.”

“You think dancing on your tippy-toes is easy?”

I laughed and shook my head. “What sort of dinner would you enjoy?” I asked.

“I’m sure I can find something to eat wherever we go. I try to eat healthy but need some protein and decent carbs to refuel after tonight. Take me where you will.”

We continued to stroll along and ended up in Le Grill at the Hotel de Paris. Imogene seemed more subdued in her conversation, but more than held up her end of it. When I asked if she was tired, she asked why I would think that.

“You just seem a little less effusive this evening than you did this morning,” I said.

She blushed. “I talk a lot when I’m nervous or excited. I was really excited to meet you this morning, and pretty nervous about embarrassing myself by acting like an idiot. Now, I can see that you are a nice, almost normal person.”

“Almost?”

“Almost,” she said with an affirmative nod. “Let’s just say that someone truly normal would not have gone to such lengths to see a stranger dance.”

I smiled. “Trust me, it was my pleasure. I’ve been told I need to try to have a little more whimsy in my life, that I’m too serious all the time. My sister suggested I take a few leaps of faith.”

“Your sister, the vice-president?” Imogene asked. “Not normal. But I get taking some risks and leaps. You saw me leaping all over the stage, didn’t you?”

I laughed.

“And you made it look elegant and effortless.”

“Hardly effortless, trust me. You should have seen me learning. Hard landings can hurt. The elegance and look of effortlessness come with a lot of practice. Maybe you can learn from that,” she added with a grin.

By the time we finished dinner, it was quite late. Imogene took my arm again as we left one hotel and crossed the street to my hotel. Inside, I was informed that the lady’s bag had been sent up to my suite.

“I’m sorry, Imogene,” I said as we entered the elevator. “I wasn’t trying to plan anything.”

She shushed me with a smile. “You’ve been a perfect gentleman. I trust you to continue being one, even if I come up to your suite for my bag.”

“Of course, you’d have a top floor, corner suite,” Imogene teased as we stepped into the luxurious sitting room. Her bag was set on a chair near the door. She looked at the bag but made no move to pick it up. Instead, she stepped deliberately to the balcony doors, opened them, and stepped back out into the night air with a sway in her hips.

I had no choice, but to follow her. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.

“It’s a beautiful view,” she said.

“Yes, it is,” I replied without looking anywhere except her eyes.

She smiled and turned back to me. Her arms went around my neck and pulled herself higher as I leaned down and kissed her. I was gentle, trying to thank her for a wonderful day and evening. She had other ideas and pulled me tight as her lips parted and her tongue forced itself into me. I caressed her shoulders and back as my fingers traced down her spine, feeling no hint of anything but her beneath the thin silken dress. She molded herself against me and breathed me in.

Finally, we parted. She looked me in the eyes and smiled.

“Now,” she said as she reached behind her neck. “You can do one last gentlemanly thing for me.” She turned around as she finished undoing the hook at the top of her dress before looking back over her shoulder again. “Unzip me, please?”

I reached out and pulled down the zipper, admiring the smooth muscles of her back until the zipper stopped at the top of her ass. She held the top of the dress against her chest and turned around again.

“Now, why don’t you be done being a gentleman for the night and help me wash after a very long and grueling day?”

By the time I was out of my tux, her dress and shoes were on the floor by the bathroom door and she was in the walk-in shower. I joined her, and immediately resumed our embrace and kiss as the hot water washed over us. I soaped up my hands and ran them over the taut muscles, feeling her strength with my fingers. She pushed me back and down until I sat on the cool marble bench in the back of the shower. She kissed me again, bent at the waist and kissed the tip of my cock before wrapping her long fingers around my manhood and stroking me lightly. Her fingers played me like an instrument, stroking from my balls to the sensitive spot under the crown. Occasionally, she would pop the head into her mouth and suck gently.

When I closed my eyes, the sensations nearly overwhelmed me. When I opened my eyes and saw her sculpted back bent over and the swell of her buttocks dancing under the shower spray, it was just as erotic. Within minutes, I was there.

Imogene sensed my approaching orgasm or saw the tightening of my balls. Without changing her strokes, she knelt and straightened her back. Her eyes danced with joy as I spurted across her chest. She continued to stroke me gently until I was fully spent, smiling the entire time.

I sat, spent in more ways than one as she stood, kissed me, and then pivoted to wash my spend from her body. I continued to be mesmerized the play of her muscles as she washed. After a moment, I grabbed her waist and pulled her to my lap, wrapping her in my arms and kissing her neck. She melted against me and lifted her feet to my knees.

I stroked my fingers from her nipples, down her stomach, and along her thighs. She reached back over our heads and ran her fingers through my hair as I kissed her neck and ears while teasing her body with light touches. Her back arched as I finally slipped a finger along the folds of her pussy and tapped her distended clit.

Slowly, I stroked her, letting her passion build until she arched back against me, shuddering. She grabbed my wrist and held my hand tight against her pussy, holding my hand flat as my fingers fluttered against her slick lips. Her breathing was nearly in gasps as she continued to shudder. After almost a minute, she started to calm, and I flexed my palm and set her off again.

To read this story you need a Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In or Register (Why register?)

Support the author's future writing by purchasing this book from Bookapy

A New Past (The Complete Trilogy)

Charlie Foxtrot

$26.99