By Patrick M. Fitzgerald
Sandra watched the passenger ship enter Delphi’s atmosphere like a shooting star. In the morning, she would leave with it, and her future would end.
She leaned against the windowsill and looked down at her luggage. Five bags. I don’t need keepsakes. Memories will be enough. They’ll have to be. Glancing up, she met her fiancé’s eyes as they searched her face.
Cyrus’s brow furrowed. His gaze drifted to the side as he stepped up to her. “Sandra, I’d understand if you wanted to stay.”
The words made her heart lurch. She saw her futures diverge, and years of loneliness on her homeworld stretched out before her. Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head.
It was rare for a Delphian to leave the planet. The moment of departure loomed in her future like a wall she couldn’t see beyond—exactly as other Delphians described death. It was terrifying. Losing Cyrus, though… that was worse.
He wiped a tear away with his thumb. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She placed a hand on his cheek, wincing at the spiderweb of scars on his face. It made her heart ache to know the tachyon radiation that let her people see the future was slowly killing him.
“You don’t upset me, Cyrus.” She clasped his hands. “The thought of being without you does.”
He leaned down and kissed her gently. “We never need to be apart.”
Warmth filled her heart as her thumbs traced circles on his hands. An uncertain future didn’t seem as frightening with him by her side. She inhaled deeply, focusing on the scent of his cologne, imagining the scent of the forests on his homeworld.
Imagining the future. That’s new. She reluctantly let his hands fall from hers. “Well, we do if we want to finish packing.”
It didn’t take long to fill her bags. Cyrus sighed when she offered to help with his luggage. “I can’t believe you’re taking so little with us.”
“My mom can have what’s left. There’s no need to take much.” The Delphic adage clutched at her heart as she spoke it. “Always the future, never the past.”
“We missed the sunset.” His eyes were on the horizon as he took her hand. “But I’d like to see the limestone fields again, if you’d join me.”
“One more night, and one more song.” She smiled, caressing the crystalline flute on the dresser. “I’d have it no other way.”
Gentle violet moonlight illuminated the mists over the limestone terraces on the horizon. The glittering white stone mirrored the twinkling stars above.
Sandra placed her head on Cyrus’s shoulder as he put his arm around her. They had only been together a year, but she had lived this year so often, it may as well have been a lifetime.
She put the flute to her lips, listened a second into the future, and played the note she heard. Slipping into the flow of moments, she echoed the song that she would play note by note. She didn’t choose a song, but simply allowed it to occur.
The slow, solemn melody that emerged was a mournful farewell to her homeworld, as though the flute were weeping with her loss. The tempo fell away as she let the music go, the notes fading away into the infinite potential of an unknown future.
Placing the flute in her lap, she looked at Cyrus with tear-stained eyes. It was the last time she would play in the Delphic tradition.
He smiled and nodded. They sat in silence, just enjoying the moments together.
There are so few moments left. She felt them compress before her. They would come faster and closer together, like sound waves between a speeding hovercraft and a building, about to crash through a wall she couldn’t see beyond.
Sandra gazed into Cyrus’s eyes, and the stars reflected within them. “So many worlds out there…”
“So many to see. Each one is unique, each one special.”
“Ours, though…” Her eyes welled with tears. “It’s the only one that lets me see the future.” She buried her face in his chest. “I’m scared, Cy.”
“Have faith, dear.” He placed a hand on the back of her neck, stroking her hair. “Have faith that everything will be all right.”
“Not something I’ve ever done.” She sniffed back a sob. “Faith isn’t something you rely on when you know everything that’s going to happen.”
“Then let me have enough faith for both of us.”
Sandra rested her head on Cyrus’s shoulder aboard the starliner. She watched the window with trepidation.
“I’m surprised you didn’t say goodbye to your mother.” His hand pressed comfortingly against her shoulder.
“Why? She always knew I was leaving.” She felt Cyrus jump at the sudden vibration from the engines as the ship lifted into the air. Surprise… I wonder what it’s like.
The moments came faster and faster, superimposing their images on the reality before her. Far below, the bluestone cities and crystalline fields fell away as their ship sailed up through the clouds.
She tried to calm her breath as the future flickered across her view out the window, echoing in a nauseating pattern.
She squeezed her eyes closed. She listened to her thudding heartbeat as the final moments repeated themselves. And then, the whole of time compressed into a single moment.
“It’s over.” She gasped, realizing she had spoken without hearing the words first.
“It’s just beginning.” Cyrus smiled and patted her hand.
She flinched away, not having expected the touch. They exchanged a glance, and she squeezed his hand. “Sorry. I…”
“Don’t worry.” Cyrus tucked her hair behind her ear. “What do you want to do once we get to Earth?”
She thought about it a moment, then smiled. “I have no idea what we’ll do. But… I have faith that we can discover the future. Together.” She interlocked her fingers with his and looked into his hopeful eyes. “Always.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This is an absolutely beautiful story. Emotional, imaginative, and breathtaking. Bravo!
Thank you, Beka!
I’m glad you enjoyed the multiple facets of the piece. It was a challenge.
Wow, this is beautiful. I love the themes.
Thank you much, Cassandra!
I’m really glad you appreciated it.
I love how you captured both sides of the bittersweetness of this moment.