Dr. Andrássy
Somehow Carmen wasn't fired after the door incident. The one where a certain young woman was able to amble inside after dark and make her way downstairs despite two keys otherwise being necessary to get through the space. Maybe it wasn't Carmen's fault. Maybe it was the painter.
Both Carmen and Verna received memos at the end of April informing them that DU's department of physics and astronomy was having an end-of-year party at the Harper Humanities Gardens and given that they were both integral in the initial success of Dr. Andrássy's research they were both expected to attend.
Suffice to say Dr. Jacobs wrote the memo. It's terse and to-the-point and Carmen laughed when he read it because he's never been informed via memo by a man who looks as if he hasn't laughed in forty years that he was expected to attend a party but even though Carmen laughed Carmen is there tonight.
Dr. Andrássy is not faculty at DU but the materials physics staff are all familiar with his work. He'd published some paper three or four years ago that they cited while applying for a grant to further study superconducting tunnel junctions and they got the grant and now they're developing amplifiers working at or near the Heisenberg limit and hoping to demonstrate quantum computing algorithms in an electronic circuit and it just so happens that Andrássy's publishing another fucking paper they can use so isn't it awful fortuitous that he's actually in Denver this year.
He isn't exactly a local celebrity but lots of people are very excited to talk to Carmen and Verna about what they've been doing. All they've really been "doing" so far is math and waiting to hear if they got funding so they can order the equipment to actually start testing the math. The party started at seven o'clock. Physicists have a tendency to party hard. The event is outside and there's a tent with tables under it for people who want to sit down and eat and there's another tent with booze in it. Of course the astronomers have dragged out telescopes. Someone is planning on speaking around nine o'clock and it's pushing nine o'clock now maybe 8:30 or 8:45 but Andrássy hasn't shown up yet.
The sun set at 8:02p.m. tonight. It's Friday the 9th of May. Verna does not know that the vampires of Denver have been rising immediately. That her employer is a vampire. That the man who hired her is a ghoul and that this ghoul has a hell of a time herding this vampire even when he isn't groggy and not rising until several hours after sundown.
Carmen is off across the grass with a drink in one hand and his arm around his girlfriend who accompanied him out of a sense of obligation. They're talking to a big black-haired guy with thick black-framed glasses and a much smaller reedier-looking man with carrot-colored hair.
The mood is relaxed but only in the way that water is relaxed when it's first set on the stove to boil. The alcohol is flowing freely and no one has started arguing yet.
Verna Gardner
Verna isn't exactly in her element at a party, but this is no ordinary party. This is a party for physicists. This is different.
The first such party she ever went to was during her first year at school, wherein they all got together to get drunk (for those who were legal) and play with liquid nitrogen while wearing ridiculous costumes, because that's what you do on Halloween. Granted, the professors would look the other way if an undergrad wanted to sneak a beer, but Verna was Not That Kind of Girl. She still isn't. Tonight, she's in her nice blue dress with her nice black leggings, her sensible heels, and a nametag that is stuck to the dress which announces her as Andrássy's research assistant.
"So, perhaps you could tell me something about your research, then?" Verna offers to the man, because who wouldn't like to talk up their achievements?
"Oh I'm sure you wouldn't be interested," he says in response.
It causes Verna's teeth to clench, a reaction she smiles through. Why would she be uninterested? What is he trying to say about her? It's the kind of comment that, by itself, wouldn't promote much eyebrow raising. But the conversation between them has teetered on just this side of giving the guy plausible deniability the whole night.
"Oh, well, then... Yes. I'm going to go get one of those bacon things," she says, but before she can go to leave, he stops her.
"I'll get you one, wait right there!"
Ugh. Cringe. Smile.
"Thanks," she says, but no, that is not exactly welcome, good sir. At least his departure means she can try to find someone else to talk to, and quickly.
"Thanks," she says, but no, that is not exactly welcome, good sir. At least his departure means she can try to find someone else to talk to, and quickly.
Dr. Andrássy
When Dr. Andrássy shows up he doesn't announce his presence. It's dark but the tents are lit by electric bulbs in weather-resistant paper lanterns. Citronella candles flicker on the tables beneath them and between the street lamps and the light pollution from the city beyond the green it is no more difficult to make out one's conversational partner here than it would be at a bar.
But this is not a huge gathering. Maybe a hundred people when one factors in all the plus-ones and the visiting scientists. For all anyone knows he was here the entire time just hung up mingling as one must mingle when one is at a party where networking is an essential skill to have. All he has going for him really is the fact that he is blisteringly intelligent and has visionary ideas in an age when many scientists are still resting on what they already know. That he's young.
A ripple of dry laughter rises up from a newly-formed cloister of bodies and when Verna glances over she can see a familiar blond man stood among them. Poker-faced but clearly the one who had said whatever was funny enough to amuse a bunch of physicists.
Dr. Carroll moves across the lawn towards the tent and Dr. Andrássy's eyes move with him. Thus far the Hungarian hasn't looked her way. He stares after Carroll for a couple of seconds before flicking his eyebrows to dismiss whatever thought he'd had and looking back at a man who'd touched his elbow to get his attention.
She has only seen him in the basement laboratory so far. Caught beneath fluorescent lights Andrássy doesn't look tired exactly but he looks as washed out as anyone else does under such unforgiving conditions. Out here in the open air and the soft light he still has the air of one whose mind is on his work. This is a trait he shares with others in his age group. The older faculty just look disgruntled. Distracted by worries about their kids' college expenses or their parents' health or how their students appear to be getting stupider by the year.
"Excuse me," she can see him say to the group before he steps away and starts to walk towards Verna along the wake left by Carroll.
He's wearing a gray cotton suit with a green button-down shirt and no tie. Loafers. His hair is combed and he's done away with the beard because spring is upon them. He doesn't need to keep his face warm. As he approaches his hands are in his pockets and the sight of Verna in a dress threatens to tug a smile out of him.
Her employer sidles up to her like they're co-conspirators, coming to a stop so that he's facing the opposite direction yet still standing abreast of her. He leans in to say:
"They won't announce until next month, but I thought you would like to know the university did offer to fund through the end of the next year. The head of mechanical engineering, he did just call me from the engineers' party to say they have had enough to drink that they think they can make nanodiamond circuits run on light."
So they'd work at room temperature. Big deal alert. Suck on that, Dr. Carroll.
Verna Gardner
How long has he been here? And Verna didn't notice because of that annoying gnat of a person? The sight of him puts a smile on her face that isn't forced, though she does have to remind herself to keep it neutral, to not appear as though she's fawning all over him. There are people watching, not the least of whom being Dr. Andrassy himself. It was something she only realized too late, in the car on her way to the party, that her choice of colors for the night was primarily driven by some random daydream about his eyes.
It's a very persistent, stupid infatuation. Ever since that night when he shared with her his breakthrough, she's found her thoughts idly swinging in his direction, even though she rarely even sees the man. It's a feeling based on the barest hints of an idea of a person, isn't it? The kind of cloudy reasoning that gets so many teenagers in trouble. She doesn't really know him, but her rebellious brain certainly thinks it does -- keeps painting her a lovely ideal to dream about. Not exactly fair to him. Not exactly proper behavior.
Dr. Andrássy
Nobody would blame Verna for harboring a crush on the man. He isn't that much older than her and he's attractive and he can be charming when he wants to be. If one is able to hear past the imperfect grammar and the persistent eastern European accent. Some people find the broken English charming. It makes him easy to point out in a crowd.
It also means that when he comes to a stop some distance away to murmur to his research assistant more than a few people are paying attention to them. Maybe this is the first time the married and the distracted have noticed Verna. She has to have noticed that she is one of the few women here who is not here because she's on the arm of one of the grad students or faculty.
Two of the women are celebrated biophysicists and they're here together. That's Denver for you.
But Andrássy isn't paying attention to anything but the news he has to impart to her and when Verna has to tamp down her natural reaction he steps back. Wears a charmed expression that takes on an air of playful machination when she mentions experimentation.
"Yes," he says and turns in time to see what it is that has Verna's attention.
Dr. Carroll. The man's been hounding her all night. Andrássy considers his options and the consideration only takes a second or two. A hand on her elbow and his flesh isn't exactly warm but she's also seen what his lifestyle and diet are like. The man burns the candle on ends that don't even exist. Seems to live off of coffee and the thrill of discovery. That'll cause poor circulation.
"Ah, good," he says as he takes his hand off her elbow, "I have not met this one yet. Excuse me, Verna." He starts to walk away. "Doctor Carroll! Hello!"
That buys her a few minutes of peace as her boss wanders over to intercept and distract Carroll. His posture is nonchalant and conversational. Rather than talking shop he appears to want to ask the other man what the hell he's got on his plate.
Uhh... dates. With bacon.
Huh.
Yeah I was just--
Interesting thing I did read about bacon the other day. Stephen Andrássy. Hi. Nice to meet you, so. My assistant did just tell me...
Somehow he keeps Carroll occupied enough that the man acquiesces to walk a ways with him. Not far from the rest of the crowd but far enough away that Verna has a few minutes of peace. By the time Carroll has lost all interest in approaching her again a microphone has squawked to life and someone very high up in the DU physics department hierarchy is clearing his throat into it. The congregation is beginning to move that way. A concentration gradient shifting.
Andrássy moves against it to rejoin her. Looks quite talked out. He must be if he's been here all night and she hasn't seen him. Mingling is hard work. Especially when your grad student is more interested in sneaking off with his girlfriend every ten minutes. There's no sign of Carmen right now.
"These things," Andrássy says as he reaches into his pocket for something. Rummage rummage. Oh look a flask. His voice is at a conversational volume for not wanting to interrupt the speech that's to come. The cap squawks as he unscrews it. "You are alright? I did already lose Carmen, if you run off too I will have to call Doctor Jacobs."
Verna Gardner
Her boss puts his hand on Verna's elbow, and she is a bit shocked at how cold his hands are. Spring has come to Denver, and while the nights are still cool they're not too terrible. She's going without a jacket, just relying on the sleeves of her dress and her leggings to keep warm -- after all, the last thing one wants to do in spring is continue bundling up. Dr. Andrassy feels like he just stepped in from winter.
Still, it would be rude to comment. Especially considering that he's being so kind as to remove the terrible Carroll from her presence. Oh, why thank you very much Dr. Andrassy. Thank you for taking on that burden -- although let's be honest, it's likely Carroll isn't going to be as odious to him as he is to her. He's not going to try to get into Dr. Andrassy's pants, now is he?
Verna snorts as they leave. Heh. Interesting thing about bacon, it's made of pigs. Isn't that just astounding? Wouldn't that be cannibalism to you, good chap? She finally takes a sip of that wine she's been carrying around. It's the kind that comes in a box, but hey. She's content to have her space for a few minutes, because Verna's idea of schmoozing is to wallflower until someone else decides to talk to her. It's perhaps not the most efficient way of getting to know people, but she seems rather unperturbed by the loneliness -- content to watch and listen. Until the microphone sounds interrupt, and her boss returns, she doesn't move.
She gives him a little dream of a smile when he's messing with that flask, and she thinks he isn't looking. Quickly wipes it off of her face, though. What the heck is your problem, girl?. "Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine. I would never just leave," She says. Not like that Carmen. "I understand how important having a presence here is. This isn't a 'fun party', it's funding. You won't lose me. But thank you for getting that Carroll fellow to leave me be."
So yes, go on and throw your co-worker under the bus, Verna. But still, it is perhaps a bit worrying to her. She looks around for Carmen in the crowd. He's a bit hard to spot, but his girlfriend isn't, and the two have been stuck to each other like velcro all night.
She gives him a little dream of a smile when he's messing with that flask, and she thinks he isn't looking. Quickly wipes it off of her face, though. What the heck is your problem, girl?. "Oh, I'm fine, I'm fine. I would never just leave," She says. Not like that Carmen. "I understand how important having a presence here is. This isn't a 'fun party', it's funding. You won't lose me. But thank you for getting that Carroll fellow to leave me be."
So yes, go on and throw your co-worker under the bus, Verna. But still, it is perhaps a bit worrying to her. She looks around for Carmen in the crowd. He's a bit hard to spot, but his girlfriend isn't, and the two have been stuck to each other like velcro all night.
Dr. Andrássy
Plenty of people have cold hands even in the midst of summer. It's always a shock when they touch you. These are the same people whose feet turn purple when stood on linoleum floors and won't ever wear short sleeves or expose their legs unless they can sit right out in the sun like lizards upon a delicious flat rock.
No sun now and it is a shock and then he's gone and the moment passes. Even if Dr. Carroll were trying to get into Dr. Andrássy's pants Dr. Andrássy has a skill with dealing with such unpleasantries. Or maybe he finds them a pleasantry. The man is young compared to many of his colleagues and when they are of the same age he is more attractive and witty and well-read than the whole lot of them. Even Carmen agrees that he is an interesting man to work for.
Carmen, who has snuck off with his girlfriend now that the evening has progressed towards boring self-congratulatory awards-giving. Who doesn't even notice his velocity nor the presence of the bus when Verna throws him beneath it.
Neither does her employer seem to notice. He's watching the proceedings and in the darkness it's difficult to discern the color of his eyes but she knows them to be like water. Clear blue in the light and black like this. Still and warm. He is as interested in what the man with the microphone has to say as he is interested in any other peripheral things and once the interest has passed he still has his flask and the conversation he initiated.
A quick nip from the flask and he weathers the sting of whatever sloshes inside it with a flinch of his brow and a bracing inhale.
"Eh," he says. A sidelong glance to see where her eyes are aimed. "How do you say... hints, he is not so good at taking them. If he does bother you again, tell me. Funding, yes, sure, but one should have a little fun at these things."
He offers her the flask even though she's already got her glass of boxed wine. Wordless but no insistence in it. If she doesn't want it he'll put the cap back on and tuck it back into his jacket. If she takes it she'll find cognac inside. They don't serve cognac in the alcohol tent. Only beer and wine and whiskey and vodka. Savages.
Either way:
"The astronomers did leave their scope unattended. I'm going to go look through it."
That sounds like an invitation but same as the flask. If she doesn't want to come with him he's going either way. The night is young and the sky is full of stars and he doesn't give a great number of shits about decorum.
Verna Gardner
"It isn't a truly fun party until one of the attendees starts trying to explain their pet theory using a collection of grapes swiped from the fruit trays, and then somebody comes by and eats one," Verna says, engaging in a bit of humor at her own expense, because wasn't she just out in the mix with people explaining things using cocktail napkin diagrams? It is a thing they do. That, and massive air-sketches drawn out with their hands. Peoplewatching at a physics party can be entertaining. "Or does the fun start when everyone's too drunk to avoid getting into factional arguments between de Broglie-Bohm supporters and the Copenhagen delegation? I do forget from my time at the university."
His glance at her has her eyes dropping and stuttering their way back to the speaker with the microphone, because, of course, Andrássy catches her gazing at him as though he were water in the midst of a desert -- a thing for her to consume. The announcer reads off a list of names at his pulpit, and it's dull enough to provide a distraction from the utter magnetism that is her boss."The astronomers did leave their scope unattended. I'm going to go look through it."
Dr. Andrássy
Is he sure that's alright.
The wording of the question is problematic because whether or not it's alright he appeared to intend to do it anyway. If she gets the idea that Dr. Andrássy isn't used to hearing the word 'no' a lot let alone heeding it that would not be an inaccurate idea. Men like him who are handsome and intelligent and dress as if they have a sense of class even if they aren't rolling in funds enjoy more than a bit of leeway in life. They don't have to try very hard and when they do put forth effort it's to sway those around them to let them do what they want.
This crowd isn't the sort to be easily cowed by him. They are like the bodies they study. The subatomic particles and the distant planets. Their work requires focus and it requires a keenness of attention and intellect and it doesn't leave much room for social function. In this Andrássy is an oddity. One can imagine his talents would be just as well served in a fundraising capacity but Verna has seen what happens when an idea takes hold of him. She can go on the Internet and read his backdated papers. The man is a visionary if not a genius.
"Nope!" he says. Undeterred. His hands are in his pockets and he must realize she intends to follow after him because he waits before he starts to drift across the lawn.
They walk a ways and it's a nice night warm but with a cool breeze and the mountains jut up out of the distance where the buildings are not tall enough to block them out and Andrássy is aware of Verna without looking right at her. In the lab he has that same focus and keenness as his fellows but out here in the open air he does not shrink into himself as they tend to do. He is not frightened of freedom.
Now that they're alone and en route to the telescope:
"I wish to discuss something with you, now we do know we will have funds for the next year. If it is too, eh... how you say it, personal? We do not need to discuss this thing."
That sounds ominous.
Verna Gardner
It's almost joyous, the way he voices his lack of care. For someone like him, perhaps that's easy. Nobody is going to kick him out of the party for messing with someone's four-thousand dollar telescope. He's too valuable himself. Verna, however, knows she can be easily replaced. It's a warning always in the back of her mind, to do everything perfectly lest some dire future await -- like starting a scene at this party, losing her job, having to crawl back to that horrible call center. She could never just go and take a peep through the telescope if she were by herself.
With Dr. Andrássy however, this is a different story.
She follows him, leaving behind the echoing static of the physicists' awards presentation. She's his shadow, now that she's found him, but she does look behind herself as they leave the pack. She knows what this must look like -- same as Carmen and his girlfriend, yes? The good doctor slipping away with his assistant? She doesn't notice anyone giving dirty looks their direction, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they have gone unnoticed. So, she puts extra effort into appearing as prim and proper as humanly possible.
"Personal?" she asks, confusion lacing the word. "What is it?"
She can't imagine what kind of personal question he might have in mind. 'Now that we will have funds for the next year, you're not suffering from a disfiguring skin disease are you?'
Dr. Andrássy
The path leading away from the cluster of tents and the gathering of faculty is paved. This section of the gardens was designed with receptions in mind. Festivities. People dancing or drinking or participating in other activities with a moderate risk of bodily injury when coupled with uneven terrain. What Dr. Andrássy has proposed doesn't involve any of those things. Their target is a tripod telescope bright white casing near glowing in the wan light.
Nobody cares what they're doing. Even if anyone did notice the tall Austrian and his quiet assistant walking off it is not to their knowledge a relationship like the other assistant and his engineering grad student girlfriend. Everyone can tell that Carmen and What's-Her-Name are going to fuck when they get home. Or they might not even wait that long. They're young and Carmen clearly is only doing this because it will look good on his résumé. Lord knows why he's studying theoretical physics. Maybe they pay their university professors a decent wage back in Italy.
So they walk off. Verna can't imagine what he might want to ask. When he laughs the laugh is warm and charmed by her and he has a nice smile. Not a loud boisterous laugh that shows teeth but the smile crinkles the corners of his eyes all the same. This is the smile of a person who is used to enjoying himself in group settings. Who laughs at other people's jokes. Maybe because he spends all his time with research physicists who wouldn't know a joke if it bit them.
"Ah," he says in a musing tone, "I do say 'personal' because what you do with your life, it is not my concern. But I tell Doctor Jacobs I do need doctorate students, yeah? Who can help with the writing of the papers and attending of the conferences. Someone who can travel. He tells me he did find such a person, so this person will be doing much of the, how you say... the heavy work. The designing of experiments. You and Carmen, you will eh, carry out them. It will be more exciting than unpacking boxes and calibrating machines, but eh..."
Oh hello telescope. Dr. Andrássy bends over to sight the scope. Test the focus and then reposition the lens.
"I think tonight Mars is to the left of the moon tonight..."
Focus, Stephen. He steps back to give Verna a chance to peer through the scope. Hold onto her wine if she wants both her hands free.
"This work you do now, it is important. I did say to you your first night it was important. All that you do, I do appreciate. You are... I am not sure how to say it in English. I am glad for Doctor Jacobs to have found you. But if you do not wish to spend the rest of your nights--" Surely he means <i>life</i>. "--working so hard for... eh. I suppose it is not little. Not to me."
Spit it out Doc.
"The university will offer you, since you are not already in pursuit as is Mister Carmen, a lowering of tuition if you do so choose to study for your doctor degree. You will have to study here, and you will have to, eh, study as a student full-time. Your work in the lab, the experiments and the running of them, will, eh... you may, half-time, but I believe they also would wish for you to teach as part of the conditions of the lowering and the so forth, so your work would not be the forty hours anymore. It would not affect your earnings. The salary. This is a, eh... bonus, yeah?"
Verna Gardner
He laughs at her, and while she's still somewhat confused, it eases what tension there was. He talks of what she will do with her life, and then goes for the telescope without explaining what he means by that. She lifts a finger up to her mouth, as if to bite a nail, but it's a nasty habit -- a reflex. And the hand quickly falls again. "I'm sure it will be exciting," she says, because it already has been.
This thing is equipped with GPS and a motor and it strafes along with the sky. It knows where the moon and planets are, and will automatically follow them. That's why it costs a lot of money, and why any astronomer who catches them might be a little upset.
Mars is to the left of the moon tonight -- the 'red' planet mostly orange, with a northern polar cap of white ice. It can be seen even from here, though the atmosphere and light pollution from Denver make any stargazing a blurry affair. It's a bit awe-inducing to Verna to think that there are little rovers up there right now, leaving their little tracks in the dirt. They've lasted so long. Longer than anyone thought they could, in a world so far beyond.
She doesn't let her mind wander too much, because her boss is explaining himself. Her attention has to split between the night sky and his voice -- and then she has to concentrate to make sense of his accent. And when she realizes what he's saying, her posture rights itself again, slowly.
"You mean... you got me into grad school? Here?" Her smile isn't an easily contained thing. And so she lifts a hand to it, though her eyes threaten to start shining any second. "And... and I'll still get to work at the lab?" And for the same amount of money, too.
The only bad part is the one about having to teach, which is a painful reminder of past bad mistakes. She never wanted to stand in front of a class of students. She'd probably choke. But without that, without giving something back to the school, grad school has always been too daunting of a prospect where money was concerned. Never should have made the decision to stop at a bachelor's, even if it did mean learning public speaking.
This man, he makes dreams come true, doesn't he? Her hand at her mouth starts to shake. He's just so perfect. A sudden swell of absolute adoration flows through her so powerfully it brings tears to her eyes.
"Of course I'll accept. And... I... I can't thank you enough."
Dr. Andrássy
With her eye to the telescope Verna does not see what it is the man behind her does with her drink. The amount of trust inherent in the gesture in a world like this goes beyond an employee to her employer. Women everywhere hear the same warning as they grow up and go out into the frat houses and bars and house parties where men lurk: don't leave your drink unattended.
It isn't a hypnotic drug he readies once she's got her eye to the telescope. It isn't a drug at all. The audience can see him remove a small vial and tip a drop into her glass and cap the vial and put it back into his pocket in the amount of time he spends rambling on about the work she does and how he can't think of how to express his gratitude for their fates intersecting and on and on. Dr. Andrássy is much more succinct in German. Latin even gets his point across quickly.
By the time she turns to look at him again the physicist is standing the way she last saw him with her glass in his left hand which does not bear a ring and his right hand in his pocket.
If she were to have some excuse for why she wouldn't do it he would have weathered that. But she doesn't. She appears near-overcome with a swell of emotion at hearing she's been offered a stipend.
"Sure you can," he says. Steps back towards her to hand her back her glass. As he speaks he takes his flask out of his jacket pocket and unscrews it. Must be time for a toast with her decoy wine and his contraband cognac. "Study, very hard, every day, and don't forget the little basement where you did work first when the world does call you Doctor Gardner. Eh?"
Awkward to clink a metal flask against a plastic cup but what the hell. It's a party.
Verna Gardner
She trusts him. Certainly part of that trust comes from the first time he did this, or from the times when they have been alone together in the lab late at night and he was the perfect gentleman. Trust is a strange creature, when you think about it. She wouldn't trust Carroll with her drink, not ever. But she trusts Dr. Andrássy because he does the little things to make her feel safe. He watches her, or walks her out to her car. He drives off the boors. He wants to hear her ideas and respects her. He doesn't ever mention that time that never happened.
The thing about the true monsters of the world is that they know how to do all of those things. They know very well how to engender trust. A stranger is so much less likely to rape or murder you; they so rarely feel the need to outside of insanity. The one who is your friend, the one who offers you a ride home for your safety -- these are the ones who turn on you. And when they do, nobody will ever believe the truth. They count on that.
They also count on others' adherence to social rules and polite interactions. Like toasts. Verna would probably have continued using her plastic wineglass as a ward against strangers and not as an actual wine receptacle if not for that dull clink.
"I don't know what I've done to deserve this," she says, her face simply glowing -- right before taking a sip of wine and Andrássy. "I won't ever forget it."
Her promise will be kept by the vitae coursing through her. It's not a drug. It's something far worse.
She looks down into the glass because she doesn't remember the boxed wine tasting quite this good. Maybe it's the joy in her heart, or the fact that she's drinking it with Dr. Andrássy, but it doesn't matter. Another rule gets broken as she finishes off the rest of it under the light of the red planet -- named in almost all human cultures after gods of blood and death.
She looks down into the glass because she doesn't remember the boxed wine tasting quite this good. Maybe it's the joy in her heart, or the fact that she's drinking it with Dr. Andrássy, but it doesn't matter. Another rule gets broken as she finishes off the rest of it under the light of the red planet -- named in almost all human cultures after gods of blood and death.
No comments:
Post a Comment