 
Ten Shards

An Anthology of Creative Journeys

by

Irina Băzăvan

Irina Dumitrescu

Adrian Suciu

Veronica Preda

Ștefana Diaconu

Diana Dumitrescu

Ioana Iliescu

Loredana Jucan

Iulia Radu

Edited (on an ongoing basis) by Robin Wildt Hansen

Copyright © 2018 by the authors and the editor

All rights reserved
Contents

Foreword

The Promise of an Old Lady

The Mark of the Red Owl

How Not to Pull a Series of All-Nighters

The Other Brother

The Alternatives

Spider Skies

Nebula13

The Search

Second Chances

Vivien

# Foreword

by Robin Wildt Hansen

This collection of short stories is the result of a seven-week Creative Writing and Self-Publishing course that I taught at Fundația Calea Victoriei in Bucharest, Romania.

Each participant wrote a short story during the course. In the final session, we uploaded the book together. It was a highly climactic moment.

I am continuously impressed by the level of imagination and professionalism put forward by my students.

Extra credit goes to Veronica Preda, who arranged with patient nudging for the creation of the cover, and who wrote not only her own story but also the story that we planned together during the first sessions of the course. Credit also goes to Teodor Dumitrescu from the previous group, who created a formatting template that each participant could apply to their story. This template was used a lot also in this anthology.

This anthology is a work in progress. That means that each participant can update their story and send it to me for re-upload. It also means that my editing and feedback is something that is happening on an ongoing basis. Although most stories are written at a high level of English, none of the writers are native English speakers, so mistakes do occur. Due to time constraint, I was not able to edit the entire document ahead of the first publication; however it is my goal to edit it on an ongoing basis. The goal is to have a great, free anthology of short stories that is updated periodically. I very much hope you will enjoy it!

About me:

My main mission is to find and give expression to the realities that lie beyond the surface level of easy truths.

I am a graduate of Theology and Religious Studies and an avid student of mythology, neuroscience, modern physics and psychology. I have carried out extensive field research on the Afro-Brazilian religion Candomblé.

I am the author of the transcendental novel, The World, about psychiatry and spiritual initiation; the self-development book, Conscious Living, about how to boost self-discipline and consciousness; and the Danish novel, I hver vores skyttegrav, about Danish-Romanian culture shock.

Check out my website.

# The Promise of an Old Lady

by Veronica Preda

Elisa was sitting alone in her cell, crying. She wiped her tears over and over, until she felt her eyelids burning. When have I become such a big whiner? These goddamn hormones! Centuries of evolution have passed by and nothing has changed! The female body is just as weak as it was at the beginning of mankind!" She took a deep breath and decided to calm down a little bit. She was well aware of the fact that all this agitation was bad for the child. She was expecting a child! Three days ago, the medical exam confirmed her pregnancy beyond any doubt. She decided to return to her book. Reading had always comforted her and brought some relief to her soul. But now, she felt exhausted. She placed a pillow between her back and the wall, punching the sponge lumps until a cloud of dust rose around her. She sighed and rolled a blanket, trying to form a support for her head, but her hair tangled in the holes of the coverlet. She kept wiggling and turning from one side to another, making the old bed's springs to squeak. While holding the book with one hand, she started waving the other hand, to drive away an imaginary insect that was keeping her from focusing. She could almost touch that fog that was not allowing her thoughts to reach the light. She shook her head, determined not to waste her treasured finding. She felt so happy when she had discovered "The history of sports" almanac in the jail's library. The chapter was about basketball. Elisa smiled: how could somebody play this game in a sports hall with normal gravity? Well, it was apparently possible, at least in the 20th and the 21st century. Now, the gyms were low gravity based and the rules had dramatically changed, but the fun had not diminished. She could not play in jail anymore... Her thoughts returned to sports. She kept forcing herself to think about sports and nothing else. She continued to compare different games: all the team competitions had evolved dramatically over the centuries. Surprisingly though, the combat sports were pretty much unchanged. In kickboxing, she had learned the same techniques as people were using 400 years ago. What a strange thing! A question arose in her mind, making her grind her teeth: Will I ever be able to be a professional kick-boxer again? At only 14 years old, she was the junior champion of her district. At 16 years old, she had already won all the championships within her age range. At 18, she was making her dramatic debut in the senior league, by winning the Earth's Champion Title. She was going for the interplanetary championship, for the supreme title in the Galaxy. No interruptions, no inconsistency in her workout sessions, no indulgences in her diet. She was not allowing herself anything else but hard work and a total immersion into her goal. But her soar was interrupted by the meeting with Roland. She had fallen in love, with no hesitation and no regrets, unveiling her soul and allowing him to see beyond her strength. For the past 4 years, only the memory of his scent or the brief image of his hands was more than enough to make her tremble. From the first moment, she loved everything about him. Even his name sounded so exotic and masculine to her. She couldn't stop being in love with him. And she was right. Roland was proving his love for her. The jail's director had recently called her in his office and informed her that she would have a visitor in 2 days. On her way out of the director's office, it seemed to her that she had heard him saying something... maybe "poor girl...", but she could not be sure, because she was singing. Only a devoted lover would have the courage to travel to a jail-planet like Khorus. The so-called jail was actually an enormous artificially generated capsule on the surface of the planet, surrounded by gigantic toxic gaseous masses. A prison-breaking was literally nothing else but suicide. Nobody could survive outside the capsule. It was the planet of the non-citizens of the Galaxy. But in this place where there was no return from and no salvation, Elisa had managed somehow to find a form of support. Three things had helped her move on: the library, her cellmate Deera and, more recently, the announced visit of her boyfriend. But she had to wait 2 more days to see him again. She had to find a way to fill the hours until the encounter. Elisa was eager for Deera to return. Deera always knew what was going on around cells. Elisa couldn't wait to find out what the other prisoners had done, who hated who and which one of the girls had had intercourse with some guardian, in search of a pack of cigarettes or clean sheets. But Deera had not returned from the showers yet. Elisa stood up and started to look at the hall, through the door's bars, while trying to keep her optimism. After all, the prison from Khorus was well-known for the violence among convicts and she could not stop presuming scenarios. She decided to ask her guardian:

"Sir, excuse me, is Deera OK?"

"Don't worry, my beautiful, she's fine!"

She shrugged and snorted. 1,95 meters high, athletic, with her blue hair and her skin peculiar condition, she could not remember how many times she had heard the words "shocking appearance". And those 2 words were among the gentle ones when people referred to her.

"Sir, would you be so kind to check, though? She went to the showers 3 hours ago and she hasn't returned yet."

"OK, if you really want to know, I'll tell you. She asked for a transfer to another section."

"Why?"

"My God! Are you planning to waste my whole day, aren't you? You nosy gargoyle!"

The guardian remembered this word from a trip to Earth. He looked around him, but the thundering applause he was waiting for did not come.

You would have been more accurate if you had said gorgon! But I suppose you don't know the difference! Elisa thought, but the guardian kept speaking:

"None of our girls wants to be near a freak. No one wants to become a leprous ogre like you!"

"So...I think I'll stay alone..."

"This is against our rules, you dumb crone! We just have to find somebody like you...another monster nobody wants to stay with! Ha! Ha!"

The guardian left, leaving Elisa alone with her bitterness. For the first time in her life, she believed that she had found herself a best friend. But Deera had turned out to be nothing but another disappointment. _My skin disease is not contagious! How could you be so stupid? Have you never accessed a medical dictionary? Ignorant cackler..._ But soon after she remembered her resolution. She was determined to remain calm, no matter what; she decided to gather her strength and make an effort. She could not afford to let this kind of events affect her... and affect her child... Like she had read in an old psychology book: "1, 2, 3...4... ...5..." - she started to count her respiratory cycles, while trying to increase the time gaps between them.

In the evening, her new colleague entered the small room. The woman was short, very thin and her hair was completely white. Although they were a few meters apart, Elisa could see the deep wrinkles and blue, contorted veins creasing the old lady's parchment-like skin. Without introducing herself, Elisa's new cellmate asked:

"So, I've heard you're from Earth...the planet of the reach and famous...How the hell have you ended up in this forgotten corner of the universe?"

"Bank robbery... extreme prejudice and violent methods... stuff like that."

Elisa had a strange warm feeling, like somebody had turned on the heat to maximum. _This goddamn pregnancy! I was sweating less during a training session than now!_

The old lady took a few more steps towards the young woman. Her instincts acted and Elisa stood up, reaching her hand to support her new colleague. She touched the old lady's arm, lowering it a second after, frightened of crushing that butterfly wing into small pieces. _What thing did she do that was so horrible to get her in here?_ Elisa thought.

"I bet you're asking yourself how someone like me could be sent to a place like this?" said the old lady, smiling.

"Yes, I do ask myself that. You look so powerless. This is a high-security prison, for extremely violent convicts. You definitely don't look dangerous to me, grandma."

"My dear, violence has many faces in this universe. Maybe one day I will tell you my story. But I'm old and uninteresting. Tell me about you."

"Well, first of all, you must know that nobody wants to stay with me."

"Why?"

"Because of my skin condition. They're afraid of getting the disease from me."

"But that's impossible. Your disease is not contagious!"

"Do you know that?"

"Of course! Do you?"

"Yes, I've read everything about my disease!"

"Do you like to read?"

"Is there another way to gather information?"

"So...tell me...how a smart and powerful girl like you gets convicted?"

Elisa started to share her story with her new colleague, stumbling at every word. First, she talked about the kick-boxing championships. She could talk for hours about kickboxing. She showed the old lady some movements and her new colleague laughed and applauded.

"I'm tired!"

Elisa sat down on a chair, wiping her forehead from sweat.

"Aren't you tired?" she asked the old lady.

"Not at all! I like your stories! So, The Galaxy Championship Tournaments were coming and you were ready... Then what happened?"

"Well... nothing much. Just bad luck, I guess. We should better go to sleep."

Elisa stood up again and wanted to head to her bed. But the old lady was gazing at her, with the face of a disappointed child. Elisa continued her story by talking about Roland and how he had managed to convince her to fight for money. The illegal combats were attracting thousands of people and they were bringing nice earnings. And then Roland decided to invest all their money into a risky business that had turned out to be a... a... Elisa stumbled again. "An unlucky choice!".

"One second, I hope you're not blaming him for that!" the old lady said. "Any business imposes a risk, after all. I'm sure he decided to use the money you had earned for a better future, right?"

"Yes, right! I mean...I think so..."

"Are you not sure?"

Elisa was studying the cell's floor, bending in her chair until she lost her balance for a moment.

"Elisa, look at me!"

The old lady's eyes had long, thick, white eyelashes. _She must have been such a beauty in her youth!_

"Elisa, is this the most captivating rubber carpeting you've ever seen in your life?"

"Mmm..."

"You will count the cracks in the floor another day. Now... tell me more, my dear..."

After that poor investment, Roland had found out that he had put them both in serious debt. That wasn't what he wanted and Elisa repeated a few times this sentence. But they needed a solution. One night, he had convinced her to rob a bank.

"A usual bank? I don't think it's possible..."

"Of course not", Elisa responded. "We had decided to rob the genetic enhancers bank. Low-level security, few guards, easy prey... Roland was going to sell those enhancers on the black market. They worth a fortune. But everything went wrong that night... At midnight, we succeeded to enter undetected into the safe chamber. You know, Roland had worked a couple of years for QAS System Corporation."

"Wow, it does sound quite impressive. Never heard of this UAX Corporation..."

"No, not UAX, but Q... A... S. It means quantum applications for security."

"How the hell can you remember such a hilarious name?"

"It's not hilarious. They are the biggest company in their field. They have offices on each planet and each habitable moon! I've heard they have offices on the secondary and even tertiary ranked planetoids. Gosh, how nice it may feel to work for an important organization like that! Anyway, he turned off the electronic filters. We took the genetic enhancers. But somehow, Roland triggered the alarm. The guardians arrived and I engaged in a battle with them. Roland asked me to help him. Out future was at stake, don't you see? So I stayed and fought. I killed... I killed three men that night and he managed to escape."

"So, the alarm was triggered. What a misfortune!"

"Yeah..."

The discussion between the two women moved forward easily. The following morning, Elisa gathered her strength and for the first time, she spoke about her pregnancy, her hopes and her happiness of seeing him again.

"What are your plans about this baby?" the old woman asked.

"I have been thinking about this since I found out...I really don't know..." Elisa started to cry.

"Slow down...Take a deep breath and start thinking what your options are!"

"I don't have any options!"

"My dear, we always have options."

Elisa had to accept that the old lady was right. When she managed to clear her mind, she saw the options before her eyes, like a well drawn chart. There were two options: to have an abortion had been her first thought.

"No, I did so many bad things in my life, I don't want to do one more!"

The second option was to keep the baby. But that would mean two new possibilities. The first one was to have the baby in prison.

"But as soon as I will give birth, the authorities will take away my child."

"Yes, no doubt about that! According to the intergalactic laws, you have lost your right to be a parent."

The second possibility was to voluntary give the baby to adoption.

"At least, this will give me the chance to choose his foster parents!"

"Have you considered a third possibility?"

"Huh?"

"To have this baby and to raise him."

"But it's impossible! I have no more rights! I'm a non-citizen..."

"It's not impossible, it's just hard! You'll have to regain your civil rights!"

"I've never heard of an intergalactic criminal who had been able to regain his citizenship!"

"Then, maybe you will be the first one!"

But Elisa was not considering this option, which she called as truthfully unrealistic. The intergalactic laws were unbreakable. And why would she have put such a tremendous effort into an absurd idea? The following day, she didn't stop talking, trying to convince her new colleague about the absurdity of the third option. She wanted the old lady to agree that she couldn't possibly be a good mother. Impulsive, violent and with absolutely no diplomatic skills... Elisa enumerated all the epithets she could imagine, in her attempt to prove the complete absence of motherhood instincts and her certain failure as a parent. In her determination to sustain her case, she had almost forgotten about Roland's visit. She was chatting with the old lady when the guardian announced her:

"Hey, beautiful, your visitor has just passed the control gate. How a hideous witch like you landed such a handsome man like he? Have you cast a spell on him or have you just punched him in the head?"

The old lady looked at the guardian, without saying a single word. The guardian spoke again:

"Look, I...didn't mean that! Elisa, stop talking and prepare yourself for the visit!"

"Go there, my dear!" the old lady said. "Talk with him! Be confident! Ask him what you had never asked before. And be sure that you're gonna be a good mother. Someone has to tell you the most obvious thing in the universe, my sweat silly girl. Maybe you lack a lot of things, but you have the one which counts most: you want only the best for your child!"

Elisa left the cell with a strange emotion in her heart. White large steps, she crossed the hall and started the procedures for the visit. She had to pass a short medical exam before making contact with a visitor from outside. Her heart was beating like a quantum chronograph and she was not even sweating anymore. She responded to the testing questions with no hesitation. Then, she moved forward to the kinetic evaluation.

"I hope you'll not break my equipment again, you bulky rhino!" the nurse said.

But Elisa movements on the delicate equipment's handles were smooth and precise.

"Mmm... maximum score."

On her way out of the medical office, Elisa heard the nurse whispering:

"If you weren't so ugly and stupid, you'd make an excellent pilot for the Galactic Corp! But it's too late for you! I don't get why the director keeps spoiling you... he spoils you all! Ah! If I were him..."

_What a character!_ Elisa thought. She smiled at the nurse and thanked her.

Roland had decided to expose himself through a journey like that; he wanted to be sure that Elisa had not changed in any way. He greeted her with the kind words of a loving man. He was, of course, happy about the child and the fact that Elisa's health was good. Anyway, the most important thing was that he had successfully sold all the genetic enhancers and deposited the money in a safe place. The only thing Elisa had to do was not turning him in. By doing so, their future was going to be bright and wealthy.

The authorities would have taken the child anyway by the end of the first year of Elisa's conviction service, therefore a life without worries was expecting them.

"I will expect you on Earth, my dear! We'll finally have the life we have always dreamed of! We've worked hard for it, we deserve it! I love you more than life. You have only one thing to do: keep your mouth shut! You will not forget this, right?"

He had been talking for an hour without interruption. Elisa remained silent most of the time. _God, will he ever stop nattering?_ Then, he stood up, said good-bye and promised to visit her again. While he was moving away, Elisa asked him:

"Roland, how did you triggered the alarm?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Back there...how did you?"

"Well, it was a childish mistake. I accidentally pushed the panic button inside the safe chamber. Let's not talk about this ever again, shall we, my dear? Now I have to leave...I love you!"

Elisa returned to her cell. The old lady was expecting her, but Elisa asked to be left alone.

"Please, I need some time to think! Alone!"

The old lady didn't need further explanations.

Elisa laid down on the bed. The clarity of the past was tearing her apart, like a saw through her entrails: in order to be able to enter the safe chamber, he needed to turn off the whole electronic system. It was not possible that the panic button would have triggered the alarm, unless he had deliberately kept that single electronic connection intact. She had been trapped.

A few hours later, she stood up and looked at the old lady:

"I always knew that the road I was going on with him was wrong", Elisa whispered. "I've never been afraid of the truth. But with him, I felt so goddamn powerless! I just wanted for him to love me."

"I know, my child. I know... You don't have to tell me. Now, maybe it's a little too soon, but it's time! You should start fighting for you again! For you and for your child!"

"But how? We can not escape this bloody planet! Even if I finished my sentence time, I would always be a non-citizen."

"You need to regain your civil rights! First of all, you should turn him in. You already know that."

"Yes, I know, I've read the regulations. If I did so, I would lose the money, but I would have my sentence significantly reduced! It's quite simple. But it's impossible! I can not do it! You know what the other convicts think about a snitch. Don't tell me you haven't heard of the convict's code."

"Of course I have! A snitch will never be left alive!"

"And they will kill me, no doubt! A snitch will never be left alive! It has been like this forever. Hundreds of convicts died in this prison, for this reason."

"Let me worry about the other convicts..."

"But... how?"

"I promise you, nothing will happen to you and your baby if you do the right thing! Trust me!"

The following nights, Elisa couldn't sleep at all. One morning, she asked her colleague:

"Let's say I will turn him in. And let's say that... somehow... I will not get killed. I will need a miracle to stay alive, but let's say that I believe you. Then what?"

"Then you'll have to find yourself a job. An honourable job, of course. A job that could bring your civil rights back."

"A job? Grandma, look... I ...I really care about you, but... excuse me! Have you completely lost your minds? Nobody in the Galaxy would ever hire an ex-convict from Khorus. I couldn't even be able to work as a toxic waste handler. Not to mention going back on Earth...Who in this universe will hire a convict from Khorus?"

"Of course, no one! But try to think differently. Who would hire a kick-boxer former champion? Write some applications letters: first to the jail's manager, then to whomever you think you would be able to help with your crazy movements you had shown me. I will make sure that your letters will be read."

"You make a lot of promises, grandma..."

"I make them because I can!"

The young woman shrugged:

"I can not fight with you anymore!"

Elisa didn't understand where the certainty within the old lady's words was coming from. But, for a reason she could not identify, she felt that she could trust her. That sentiment of trust was there again. It has been there from the moment she met her.

***

Although 2 years had passed since that discussion, Elisa was unable to forget a single word. She remembered the old lady's eyes, in every detail... those mixed colors of green and grey, with small yellow spots that were capturing the light.

Elisa turned on the camera on her monitor, to check how her son was doing. He was playing with other children in the daycare facility. His blue hair was constantly changing its position on the screen, because the children were chasing a small anti-gravity ball. _He'll become an athlete, no doubt about that!_ She smiled, because her son was so easy to distinguish among the toddlers, but at the same time, he was no different. _He'll not be constrained to accept what I've accepted! Thank God for the genetic enhancers I bought!_ Even on the small monitor, it was easy to notice his flawless skin.

"Ma'am, pardon me for interrupting you. We are ready to begin the program. The cadets are waiting for you!"

The young man was sitting right next to the door, with his left hand on his back and the right on his left shoulder. He checked with a glimpse his image reflected by the monitor Elisa had just turned off and lowered a bit his right elbow. It would have been a great offense to execute like a cadet on his first day the salute addressed only to high-ranked officers of the Galactic Corp for Interplanetary Peace.

"Stand at ease, sergeant... How is the new class?"

"Like a bag of mharonian fleas..."

"Do you mean they need discipline and training?" Elisa laughed, seeing how her sergeant had resumed the salute position.

"Yes, ma'am. Excuse me, ma'am..."

The cadets were sitting together in the biggest training hall of the Galactic Corp. Young men and women with their light blue uniforms were talking and laughing, while looking towards the entry to see if the head trainer of the Galactic Corp was coming.

"I've heard she had been on Khorus", a young man said.

"And before that, she was Earth's Champion", another replied.

"We are so lucky to be in her class. Her techniques in close fights are unequaled among the trainers", a young girl added.

"How do you know that?" the first man asked.

"Well, the commander himself told me that. Could you imagine? If we learn from her, we'll become one-to-one combats experts in no time. We'll be assigned for the most dangerous missions, like she is."

"And I've heard something else. It took her only 6 months to become the head trainer!"

"Actually, there were almost 2 years!" Elisa said while entering the hall.

She couldn't forget anything. In only one year and a half after joining the Galactic Corp for Interplanetary Peace, she had become the head trainer. After turning Roland in, her sentence had been reduced to only three months. As the old lady promised, the convicts had never hurt her. She had written that clumsy application letter to the jail's director and he had suggested the Galactic Corp. They were looking for a trainer. Her application had been immediately accepted. 4 months after giving birth, she had started the training.

After the first training session with the new class, she went to the commander officer to ask for a short permission. The weekend was near and her plan was to pay a short visit to Khorus. The permission was granted, no questions asked. When she was about to exit the commander's office, he asked her:

"Elisa, will you be able to leave your son alone for 2 days? Don't get me wrong, I'm not questioning our competent personnel from the daycare, but..."

"Well, it won't be easy... But I really have to visit an old friend. A very dear friend, without whom... who knows where would I be today?"

The commander frowned:

"Whaaat? What are you mumbling over there? I didn't hear you."

"Oh, nothing...Thank you for the permission! Sir!"

"Don't mention it, head trainer major Karowan."

***

The jail's director welcomed Elisa. The former convict was considered a star among the prisoners and guardians alike. The head trainer of the Galactic Corp asked to visit her old cell colleague.

"Oh, I'm sorry, she isn't here anymore!"

"Did she die?" Elisa asked with tears into her eyes.

"Oh no! Not at all! She escaped, of course!"

"What?"

"We were so naive to think that we could handle a prisoner like her! We thought that our toxic atmosphere would keep her jailed! When she got bored, she did her tricks and teleported herself somewhere else in the Universe!"

"Sorry, I don't understand!"

"Didn't you know? I didn't know either... until she escaped... She was convicted for neuro-psychological terrorism. She was from Laga."

"From...where?"

"Laga...the planet of telepaths! She was... actually _she is_ one of the most powerful telepaths from Laga, with extensive knowledge of neuro-science and pan-galactic psychology. In fact, she has unlimited powers over people's minds. We thought she couldn't escape from Khorus. And the central jail system's prosecutor thought that the drugs developed by the Laga's scientists would neutralize her. Well, everybody thought wrong. One day, she decided to use her capabilities over us and we were powerless."

"I wonder why she had helped me...You know, she had helped me a lot. Why the strongest terrorist in the Galaxy would help a nobody like me? Back there, I was a nobody..."

"Maybe because she saw something good in you, who knows... Maybe you reminded her of somebody she used to love. Or maybe because one day she will come back to you and ask you for a favour. I wouldn't want to be you when that happens..."

The end

About the Author

I am a graduate of Medicine and passionate about science in all its forms. I believe that our greatest challenge is to understand our human nature, its strength and its weakness. And I like to believe that, by tolerating and embracing our flaws and fragility, we can master our life and make this world a better place, together.

Feel free to contact me: veronicapreda78@gmail.com

# The Mark of the Red Owl

by Irina Băzăvan

Day 13. Every morning, Clara wakes up and convinces herself that her brother would return that day. And every night she goes to bed in the same empty apartment, trying to keep her eyes open for just one more minute, maybe this is it, maybe if she could stay awake just one more moment...

Today is no different. She wakes up and tries to psych herself up, to prepare herself for news of Elias, any type of news; and she tries to ignore the gnawing feeling that tells her that the more this goes on, the more the balance tips towards bad news. Yes, the police keep saying that there is no track of her brother, no matter how much they extend the search area. Yes, it seems that all the options have been checked off the "What to do when a person goes missing" list (and she did actually google this and then did all the necessary things – informing the police, contacting her brother's friends and other family members, stalking his social media pages, making signs). Yes, she still has the card from the support group that reached out to her – though, could they not have waited for more than five days to invite her to attend one of their meetings? Is that all you get when someone you know goes missing? Five days of searching for them and then that's it, you're ready to talk about your loss as if it's not still happening? As if the search is over, there's nothing more to do so you join a support group? Screw that! She doesn't need support, she needs answers!

On this late September morning, Clara goes through her new routine, pouring cereal into a bowl, squinting at her phone screen, switching from one profile to another, waiting for the milk to heat, crossing every name off the list, every single person who might have the slightest connection to Elias. Checking first, chewing second. He wouldn't approve of that. He thought – he _thinks_ , damn it – that doing something else while eating deprives you of the pleasure of eating; food should be enjoyed. Except he's not here to berate her and she likes to believe that if she were the one missing he would do the same. Then again, she wouldn't leave on a trip with someone like _Albert_.

Finishing breakfast, she starts thinking about the outfit she's going to wear that day while also doing a mental check to make sure she remembers what her brother was wearing the day he went missing: black jeans, that T-shirt of his that makes her head spin because of the pattern, the red hoodie she got him for Christmas last year, his new biker boots. She should wear her biker boots today. And that black scarf that goes well with everything. She gets to her room and starts dressing but can't find the scarf anywhere. Fifteen minutes till she has to leave the house. She starts rummaging through her closet, a blur of colours and fabrics, wondering if it's worth trying a spell that would bring her the scarf, when it hits her: Elias borrowed the scarf from her on that rainy day about three weeks ago and never gave it back. So, it must be in his room. She's been in his room before, right after he disappeared, looking for clues, anything that might help; she's spent hours in there, immersing herself in his world, between clothes and books and trinkets and pictures and memories and that essence of magic in the air that stifled her and made her sob because it was so very him, a part of him. Of course, the police also checked his room and they couldn't find anything either. And now that she's about to go back in there, she feels a shiver down her spine that makes her freeze mid-step on the way to the door. It comes back full-force, that feeling that kept nagging her for days after searching his room: she's missed something; she's missed something important and maybe if she wasn't so fucking useless at light magic she would be able to figure it out. Dark magic can only do so much in these situations.

For a split moment, Clara wonders if she really needs to wear that scarf today; after all, she has others she could wear. But she knows what the real problem is and she decides she is not going to turn into one of those people who avoid the room of a family member who's gone, keeping it like a shrine, because her brother is not dead _yet_. So she strides to his room, shoves the door open, pulls on the drawer that contains all her brother's scarves, hats, and gloves, and starts searching. She finds it tangled with one of his and when she starts pulling them apart her fingers brush over something that feels like paper, and so she keeps pulling on her scarf until a folded square of paper is revealed between the folds. Was this here before? She looked into this drawer when she was canvassing every inch of this room and she somehow missed it. It's totally possible that Elias used magic to hide this until a certain moment, but if this is what she thinks it is, then wouldn't it have made more sense to make the note available to her sooner? Then she wouldn't have spent the past two weeks in a flurry of worry, anger, frustration, sadness and every other feeling on the way to despair... She's getting ahead of herself. This could just be a random note that somehow made its way into this drawer. She hurries to open it and her fingers aren't cooperating as she'd like them to – the paper rips on one side. Her brother's writing. No doubt about it.

Clara,

I can't say I'm glad you found this note, because if you did, then what I hoped wouldn't happen happened and I'm in a lot of shit. See, there are some things I haven't told you about and I know you're gonna get mad and probably call me stupid (I deserve that) but for now I just need your help. I promise you can yell at me as much as you want after all of this is over.

Remember how I told you that I became friends with Albert last summer because he helped me with my art project? Well, he also needed my help. He and three other guys formed this group, trying to find out more about forgotten rituals and ancient magic that is no longer in use. I knew they weren't exactly looking for standard magic but it didn't seem too dangerous so I agreed to help them with their research. Only thing is, for the past two months they've been talking about nothing but this obscure ritual called "Felicem Mortem". I thought it was just research and collecting as much information as possible but I think they actually plan to go through with it; listen, this is really dark stuff and I'm pretty sure there's a very good reason this ritual has never been completed before.

I don't know if I can stop this on time, and I'm not sure what to do but if it all goes to shit, I've put a failsafe in place so you can find me: follow the mark of the red owl. I can't tell you more than that.

Be careful,

Elias

The first time, Clara reads the letter so fast that her mind almost can't keep up with what she's reading, the information doesn't seem real. Then she reads it again. And again. She keeps reading it even when she can almost recite it word for word, even when she can't get more meaning out of it than she already did. Out of the dozens of scenarios she has imagined ever since Elias disappeared, her brother getting involved in other people's dealings with dark magic ranked quite low on her list. He was always careful when it came to dark magic. _They_ were always careful. Isn't that what she'd taught him? And still he went on and helped these people with their research of ancient rituals and she could bet that he noticed they were straying further and further from what would be considered normal spell-work. How could he not? He had enough experience with dark magic to be able to recognise it. He should have seen where this was going sooner.

She feels she's going through the five stages of grief again, repeating the cycle she's been stuck on for the past two weeks, except now she can't decide between anger and acceptance. She's never reached acceptance before; but now she knows the truth, or at least part of it. And knowing means _doing_. Granted, her brother's letter doesn't give her that much to go on, but it's a clue, it's proof of something. If Elias believes she'll be able to find him, then she also believes. She knows where to start looking. She sets aside all the whispers of _"too little", "these things mean nothing to me"_ and _"what the hell is the mark of the red owl?"_ that keep buzzing around in her mind and heads to work. She can do this.

***

She can't do this. She's sitting at the desk at the back of the shop where she works ("Welcome to _Magicpedia_ – books for all your magical needs!"), surrounded by tomes that haven't been opened for years, books that she had no interest in touching before, books that maybe she shouldn't be touching, scraps of paper with her notes on them, the writing hard even for her to understand. She's been at it for hours, leafing through every volume she could find on old magic and the kind of rituals they don't teach you about in school, choking on the fine particles of dust that are probably as old as she is, and she is faced with the realization the she can't do this. It comes crashing down on her and then she springs up from the chair, starts pacing around the desk, her hands clenching and unclenching. It's not enough. She's managed to find some information about the "Felicem Mortem" ritual (literally "Happy Death" and really, wasn't that enough of a clue for her brother to stay out of it?) but there's nothing about how to stop it or counter its effect and after what she's read she's pretty sure she doesn't want to see what would happen if it was completed. Not to mention the sacrifice. And that's the part that makes her want to run out into the woods, shouting for her brother, that makes her want to go to sleep under a blanket and pretend it's all a nightmare. She did have some quite vivid nightmares when she was little.

From what she's gathered, saving her brother will involve a great deal of magic; magic that she can't accomplish on her own. Clara's always had a love-hate relationship with magic, which for many years has mostly been a hate relationship. In school, when they went from learning the basics to learning bits of more advanced magic, it became clear to her that she didn't quite have the skill that was expected of her. She sensed she could do magic, she definitely wasn't one of those people with no inclination towards it whatsoever, yet she couldn't get past basic spells. Amid feelings of humiliation, sadness, betrayal, and downright apprehension when it came to anything remotely magical, she discovered that while she might not have been a natural in standard, light magic, she did have a penchant for dark magic. In fact, she seemed to pick it up with a skill that not only surprised her, but also frightened her. Creating spells, making the elements react and combine in ways that were considered unholy and dangerous – that made her almost forget about everything that was happening in school; the fascination was stronger than the knowledge that should she be discovered, she would be sent to jail.

It had to be kept a secret, of course. The only person she could trust with this was her brother. Elias had been wary at first, thinking she was in danger of going down an unsavoury path (and wasn't _that_ ironic?) but was soon on board with helping her practice and making sure she stayed under the radar. Was it her fault? Her brother might have been less willing to follow these pseudo-scholars if it hadn't been for her. She really didn't want to think of Elias getting hurt; and what she really _really_ didn't want to think about was Elias getting hurt because of her.

Perched again on the chair in front of the desk, she keeps twirling one strand of hair, this way and that way, her mind clouded in uncertainty. Here are the facts: her brother needs help, she is determined to help him, she can't help him on her own. She has to ask someone to come with her and provide the magic needed to stop this ritual and get her brother back. The question isn't so much who to take with her on this rescue mission, she's got that part figured out (Alex, naturally, as he's the only one among her acquaintances with the necessary skills and knowledge to do high-level magic), the question is whether or not she can trust Alex enough to tell him what's been going on and to bring him along. He's been very supportive ever since Elias disappeared, he even joined the search party organised by the police. Yet she can't possibly imagine exposing herself and her brother to him; Alex hates dark magic, there's never been any doubt about it, in fact it was one of the first things she learned about him when they started working together two years ago.

The minutes tick by, her eyes fixed on her brother's letter. She can hear the voices of passers-by through the open window, and she's so hungry she can almost smell the pizza from across the street. She hasn't eaten since breakfast. Alex will come by any minute now to start his shift and she realises she can't leave the bookshop without talking to him. This cannot wait. There is no more time for doubts or moping around or delaying the inevitable. It's got to be him. As if on cue, the bell above the door chimes, and in comes Alex, smile on his face, ready to throw a riddle or a joke her way, as is their routine. The joke never sees the light of day, as his smile freezes at the look on her face.

"I-need-you-to-help-me-stop-a-dark-ritual-and-save-my-brother-from-a-bunch-of-evil-lunatics."

Possibly not the best way to start a conversation.

***

"I...what?", Alex gapes at her. She notices he hasn't moved from the door.

She wonders if it's too late to pretend she hasn't said anything. Then again, maybe it's better it happened like this. If she had tried to take it easy, she might have lost her nerve on the way. Now it's out there in the open. She can work with that. If only he would come closer. This really isn't the kind of conversation that can happen five meters apart.

"That didn't come out right. I mean, it's the truth, it's just, it's something I should explain first. And then you can decide. Whether you want to help me or not."

This seems to prompt him into moving again and in a few strides he's by the desk, looking as if he's bracing himself for what he's about to hear.

"Do I need to sit down for this?", he asks while already lowering himself in the plush chair facing her. "I swear if this is a joke..."

"It's not a joke! I wouldn't joke about something like this when my brother hasn't been home for two weeks!", she can't help but bristle at the implication.

"Sorry, sorry! You're right, I know you wouldn't. It's just that if it's not a joke, then it's serious and if...", his eyes fall on the book closest to him, _Banned Rituals Across the Midlands_ , and then he starts scanning all the other books strewn all over the desk. "Why don't you tell me what happened and then we'll just go from there?"

"Right, well I was in my brother's room this morning and..."

She shows him the letter, the books, the notes she's made. His eyes keep bouncing from one thing to the other and after he's been through everything he spends a few moments staring at his hands. Finally, he looks up, meets her eyes and says:

"So, when you said you need to save your brother from an evil ritual, you really meant..."

"...save my brother from an ancient ritual, yeah."

She's had some strange conversations with Alex in the past two years, it's what happens when you work in this line of business, yet she's never thought she would be here, having this particular conversation. Then again, people usually have the habit of thinking _That's never going to happen to me_ and then they're proven wrong.

"Why would your brother even show interest in anything like this? Has he dealt with dark magic before?"

"What? No! Or at least I don't think so.", her voice wavers a little; he seems to notice it but doesn't say anything. "Look, Elias would never willingly get involved in anything dangerous or harmful, he just got in over his head."

"Judging by his letter, he knew there was something shady going on", Alex says without missing a beat.

This isn't going the way Clara was hoping.

"I don't know what he was thinking but I'm a hundred percent sure that Elias didn't have any bad intentions going into this; he's just in a shitty situation and he needs my help! And I'm going after him!"

"I'm not accusing him! I'm just trying to understand. And I do want to help you find him. I know he's a good kid."

Hope begins to bloom in her chest. If he's saying he'll come with her, that he'll help her, that she won't have to face the unknown on her own... She's getting ahead of herself again – he hasn't committed to anything yet.

"I know that I'm asking a lot of you, but I'd really appreciate your help. I was thinking of leaving tomorrow morning, I'm going to take the trail that starts behind the old factory building, I've seen Elias head that way the day he disappeared. If you're coming with me, we could meet here at 7. We should probably make a list of supplies and...", she says barely stopping to breath in between words, realising that she still doesn't know what he's thinking.

"Whoa, okay, first of all, let's think about this for a moment. We can't just rush blindly into the woods. I'm guessing going to the police is not an option since this letter seems tied to you and that mark he mentions probably won't appear to anyone else. What is that mark by the way? Have you seen it before?"

"No, I haven't but I'm hoping that once we're on our way, we will also find that red owl". She can feel a rush of energy pumping through her veins, she's ready to go; she's miles away from where she was this morning, stuck in a cycle of hard-to-decipher texts.

"Okay, listen, you're right, we should leave in the morning."

They spend the next two hours going over everything they might need for their trip and discussing plan A and plan B and plan C. It still doesn't feel enough, probably because you can't make a proper plan when you don't actually know what you're walking into, when there are so many variables that it's almost like reading the table of contents for an exam instead of reading the book.

They leave the bookshop and Clara can't wait to get home. Bone-deep exhaustion makes her want to go straight to her room and curl up in her bed, but she knows she has to prepare for tomorrow. Alex is a steady presence beside her as they walk towards the bus station. She wonders what he would think if he knew the whole truth, if he knew just what kind of spells she was going to practice tonight. Would he still be her friend? But that's a problem for another day. For now, she just wants to find her brother, no matter what.

***

The wind makes it hard to look ahead; Clara keeps looking at her feet, now and then chancing to raise her head to check the way. She's never been a morning person, but right now, at almost seven o'clock, she doesn't spare a thought to sleep. She hurries to the bookshop, the wind intensifies and she is glad she is wearing her hiking equipment. She sees Alex standing in front of the shop, similarly dressed. She comes to his side, and they size each other up. They look like two tourists.

"Morning!", he says, hoisting his backpack off the pavement. "Ready? I think I got everything we might need."

"Yeah, as ready as I can be. I just wanted to thank you again for coming with me."

"Don't mention it. You can thank me after we get your brother back."

There isn't really anything more to say, so they start off towards the factory, a building that hasn't been used for almost a decade. Two weeks ago, she had been biking to the post office to pick up an order for the bookshop, when she saw Elias, Albert and another guy make their way along the side of the factory, their backpacks on. Elias had told her that morning that he was going to help Albert with something that might take all day, and sure, she thought it was a bit strange to see them head towards the trail that she knew started at the back of the building; the trail had been off limits for some time as the terrain had changed due to heavy rains and the path wasn't safe anymore. But in that moment, passing them in a blur on her bike, she hadn't given it much thought. It was only later that she started wondering what her brother was doing. And then it was too late.

Clara and Alex arrive at the factory and begin retracing Elias' steps; it's not the first time – the police had done the same thing and they had also organised a search party with volunteers. This trail had been their only clue and they came back empty-handed. Still, this time it was going to be different. It _had_ to be different – Clara was sure of it and by now she knew that trusting her gut always worked in her advantage.

Their shoes squelch in the mud, the morning light rains down on them through the kaleidoscope of leaves and there's a constant howling from the wind that followed them into the forest. The air has a stinging bite to it that discourages conversation. It's hard to imagine there are other people in the world right now. After about forty minutes, Clara is struck by the fact that they don't really know where they're going, they're just following the path one step after the other; she hasn't been paying that much attention to her surroundings, she has been lulled by the rhythm of her breath and the crunch of the leaves as she they march on. She looks back at Alex for just a moment, to ground herself to reality, to remind herself that she isn't alone.

After another half an hour, the wind has died down but their progress seems even slower; they keep stumbling over roots and rocks, their feet keep sinking into mud, and they have to grab onto branches, half standing up and half crawling as the path takes them higher up the mountain. Clara's leg muscles start to burn and there's a stitch in her side. She's weighing the pros and cons of suggesting they rest for a few minutes when her boot slides on a rock hidden under the thin layer of soil; she flails her arms but there's nothing she can hold on to – before she knows it she's on the ground.

"Are you OK? Let me help you up.", Alex says and reaches out to her.

"Yeah, I think I'm fine, ugh, I'm full of mud now.", she looks at her hands, "and my hands and knees kind of hurt but I don't think it's anything serious. Just give me a minute."

"Don't get too comfortable. How about we stop there for a break?" He points ahead at a log blocking their path.

Clara nods at Alex, and then gets up holding onto his arm. She wipes her hands on her coat and only then remembers that she has some wet wipes in her backpack. After asking Alex to get them for her, they walk towards the log, fighting their way up. She hasn't reached this part before, when she had been looking for Elias.

They sit on the log, their shoulders sagging, each letting out a breath. They drink water and munch on some biscuits. Clara goes to put het bottle of water back and that's when she sees it: carved into the wood, partly hidden by a patch of moss, a tiny red owl. She stares at it. She blinks; keeps staring. That's it, that's what she's been waiting for.

On instinct, she reaches out towards Alex, fingers clutching the material of his coat.

"I...I found it", she whispers, "Look!"

"What?"

He follows her gaze and looks down at the owl.

"Is that it? The mark your brother was talking about?"

"It must be!", Clara says. A flicker of excitement, the first real one since this whole ordeal began, warms her up.

She traces the outlines of the drawing and feels it thrum with magic. Familiar magic. In an instant, the owl begins to glow and seems to detach itself from the wood. It hovers in front of them and now the magic is so strong that even Alex can feel it.

"This is my brother's. I know it! I could recognise his magic anywhere."

"So it could be linked to him. Which means it can lead us to him!", Alex says. His tone matches the excitement she feels. They grin at each other.

The tiny owl starts flying, leaving the path, and heading to their left, through the pine trees. They follow.

***

Clara has lost all sense of direction; they keep following the owl and even though she tells herself they should keep track of their route, it all blurs together, the red owl a beacon ahead of them.

"Should we have another break and eat something? It's noon already.", says Alex.

"I was just thinking of that."

They've now come to a stop, dropping their backpacks on the ground, ready to sit down for a while. But the owl keeps flying forward through the trees. They wait to see if it stops and when it doesn't, they look at each other and with a sigh pick their backpacks up and keep going.

"How much longer do you think?", Clara asks. Her mind lingers on the sandwiches she packed last night.

"Hopefully we'll get there soon. Otherwise, we might collapse on the way.", Alex says, out of breath.

It's another ten minutes until the scenery begins to change. The terrain evens out and the trees are farther apart. They can see a clearing ahead and what appears to be a cluster of huts begins to take contour at the far edge of the open space. The owl stops near the last line of the trees and Clara and Alex hide behind one, their heads poking out from each side of the tree, peering into the distance. There are eight huts made of wood, looking as if they haven't been lived in for at least a decade. Clara didn't know of any settlements so deep into the woods. After nothing but trees, moss, and dirt for the past few hours, this testament of human civilization looks almost surreal. She can see no roads or trails leading to the huts.

"Let's get closer. We can sneak around the trees.", Alex says.

She nods and they make their way keeping behind the tree line. This close, they can feel the stench of magic coming from one of the huts. It permeates the air and makes it hard to breath. It makes her skin crawl and she gets the sudden urge to back away. Still, there's an undercurrent of something she's experienced before, something she's grown accustomed to after all those years of practicing dark magic. She starts creeping towards the nearest hut, laying low.

"Wait!", Alex whisper-shouts behind her, "What's the plan?"

"I just want to see if he's inside." Though she already knows he is; the red owl is now a carving on the ledge of the window.

She peeks through the window and there he is: Elias, looking worse for wear, standing in a circle with other four men (she recognises Albert and the guy that was with them by the factory). Iridescent tendrils of magic have crawled up his arms; his hands are shaking. She aches to rush to her little brother, to snatch him away. She wants to protect him. And for that she needs to overpower the magic that keeps extending through the room like poisonous ivy. She doesn't know how long the ritual is supposed to last so they have to act fast.

Clara turns to look at Alex and sees him pulling a vial out of his backpack.

"Made this last night", he says, "Thought it might come in handy. It should cause enough of a disturbance to disrupt their ritual. You go to Elias, I'll try to hold the others off. I think we're gonna need a lot of magic for this. Use any high-level spells you know."

"Right...", she says, "Alex, I..." She sighs and adds "I just want you to know I'm not like them."

That's all she can muster right now. She can't tell him that when they barge into that hut, the only magic she is going to use is dark magic. There are no high-level spells approved by the Academy for her. She can explain later. After.

They nod at each other and step in front of the door. Alex uses a basic spell to open it and then throws the vial into the room. It smashes on the floor. Everything is engulfed in a blinding white light and Clara's ears feel full of cotton. After a minute, the room comes into focus again. The five men inside are lying on the floor, clutching their heads, trying to get their bearings back. The tendrils of dark magic are no longer engulfing them, but their energy is still pulsing throughout the room. Clara's eyes meet her brother's. The other men finally notice her and Alex by the entrance. And then the chaos begins.

The End
About Me

I studied English and French at the Faculty of Foreign Languages. I've always had a passion for reading and I am interested in writing, especially fantasy. "The Mark of the Red Owl" is my first completed story and I hope to write more in the future.

Instagram: @irina_maria04

# How Not to Pull a Series of All-Nighters

by Irina Dumitrescu

October 13th

My name is Mark Daniels and from now on this will be my diary. My therapist suggested journaling would help with the writer's block I've been struggling with since last year. The deadline my publisher gave me is creeping up on me faster than I can handle it: I haven't even started yet the novel I promised him, simply because inspiration's nowhere to be found and every new idea I get seems either ridiculous, boring or a gigantic cliché.

October 14th

Today I googled for the millionth time 'how to boost creativity' and stumbled across several articles saying sleep deprivation could boost your creativity and that many artists attributed their creative genius to insomnia. Becoming a creative genius sounds really appealing and even though the link between lack of sleep and creativity is a controversial subject and no concrete studies have been made, I'm honestly willing to try anything new now. The world record without sleep is 11 nights, but I'm going to be sensible and aim for 5. I told my Jared, my brother, about this today and he smirked with a slight glisten in his eyes that weirded me out a little bit, even though it shouldn't have. He always cheered up at the hearing of my struggles.

Our relationship's been rocky since childhood. I've always been daddy's boy and mommy's favorite because of my interest for learning and my good looks: I was a blond, doll-like boy. I was the youngest and naturally, the most of their attention was directed at me. Even though my hair's not straw-colored anymore and it's instead darkened to an auburn shade over the years, my interest for learning and curiosity about the world stuck with me and that's how I became a novelist. Meanwhile, he'd always been disinterested in everything except video games and bullying the other kids at school. He's been jealous of me ever since I can remember. When my first novel 'Sandy and the dog' became an international bestseller, he stopped answering my calls and looked at me with a scowl and frowned eyebrows at every family reunion. He dropped out of college that year and moved back home. Our relatives couldn't stop comparing us.

When I also moved back home at the beginning of this September, looking for a change, to hopefully spice up the hiatus-causing monotony, his first words were 'It seems like I'm not the only failure in this family anymore, midget. Man, the only thing he loved more than video games and picking on the younger kids was making fun of my stature. I'd been hoping he would stop. Despite his cold attitude, I've always felt bad for him. After all, it'd been our parents' fault for not loving him as much as me, but I couldn't stop feeling guilty. I wanted to feel loved by my older brother all my childhood. Hopefully, we'll get to talk things out and fix this mess between us.

I'm not going to tell mom about what I'm trying, because she's already thinking I'm going crazy after I lent her my laptop and she saw 'how many drugs do you need to od' and 'can you hang yourself with shoelaces' in my search history. She wouldn't listen when I explained to her it was just for a novel and has been treating me as if I were mentally unstable, hiding knives from my sight and leaving a suicide hotline number post-it on the fridge door.

October 15th // Day 1

Today I went bowling with Jared, trying to bond a little bit with him. I've discovered that living with a person who hates you isn't by any means pleasant. Especially because he still, after 4 years of living with mom, hasn't found a job yet and spends all day at home. Ever since I moved in, he's been putting food on the top shelves and setting my alarm clock to ring at 3AM, just to mess with me. Very mature for a 29 year old. He uses the loss of our father 9 years ago as an excuse for his unemployment, but both mom and I know he's just manipulative and lazy. Still, he's her son, she can't just kick him out of the house. Maybe if dad and mom payed more attention to him, he would've turned out to be a regular guy with a job and family, I don't know.

Surprisingly, it's been really nice going bowling with him. He's been polite, smiling and asking me questions about what I had been doing. We talked about our lives and discovered none of us had a girlfriend. Here's the first thing we have in common. I paid for the games and he casually asked me how much I had in my bank account. A strange question, but, not wanting to start a fight I said something like 'About 100k, I guess'. I lied about the other 200k on my name because I didn't want to brag. When I said this I saw again that same sparkle in his eyes. Maybe I should've said less, I don't want to trigger his jealousy now that we're finally getting along.

It's now 2:27AM and my head feels like it's going to explode. Not an ounce of creativity and I feel like climbing the walls. I'm so so so bored. My eyes are getting heavy. I guess I'll create a tinder account and try to find a nice girl nearby, just to keep me entertained. That's what I call killing two birds in one shot. Though, not a priority, having a girlfriend would be really nice.

It's 4AM and for the past hour I've been chatting with Linda. She's 25, just one year older than me, and she moved here in Boston, after graduating. She's so nice and we've connected almost immediately. She shares my interest for Russian literature and that's what we've been talking about for the last half hour. Her favorite Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy characters are also mine! It's crazy how much we have in common, and it feels like I've known her forever. Aren't we just made for each other?

October 16th // day 2

Today I "woke up" at 5.30AM after texting with Linda continuously since 3.30AM. It might not be much time, but honestly she gives me so many good vibes and I'd really love to meet her. Tinder says she lives less than a mile away?! I think I fell in love! Maybe journaling is working, because it seems like my life is slowly coming together.

I got out of my room because I wanted to take a walk through the neighborhood to wake up a little bit before hitting the 24h mark. The moon still was still shining outside. When I was walking in the hallway on my way to the stairs, I saw a light coming from Jared's room through the cracked door. I knocked, thinking he had left the lights on and accidentally fallen asleep, and when I actually got an answer from him, my heart started pounding and my whole body jerked in surprise. He got up, came closer to me and said "Are you having a seizure right now?" with a smirk. Man how I still want to punch him when I think of his condescending attitude. I guess that I'll just have to learn how to live with it if I want us to be friends. Anyway, I told him that, no, in fact, I wasn't having a seizure and asked why he was up so early, coming closer as to hear him better and not wake mom up with the sounds of our conversation. I looked up at his face and was taken aback by the sight of his bloodshot eyes. The broken vessels stood out on the white background of his eyes, even in the dim light coming from his TV. I asked "Or haven't you slept at all?". He told me he'd been gaming the whole night and at first I thought "what a loser!", but then remembered I had also spent my night on my phone, texting with a stranger. I'm really starting to notice we're more alike than I thought before.

We were all having breakfast. Mom asked "So, boys, how was bowling yesterday?". Jared and I exchanged looks and he said with a smile on his face "Bowling was great, mom, we got to talk and know each other better, but honestly, the movie has been a little bit boring.". I asked "What movie?" because I was sure we only went bowling. He looked at me with raised eyebrows, making that "are you stupid?" face and said "What do you mean, what movie? Jurassic Park." with a shrug. I couldn't remember it and he must have gotten that from my look because he added "We saw it at the mall after bowling. Remember I've told you I had been wanting to see it since forever? Jeez, man, you should take some lecithin or something.". I started to remember seeing the movie. Not the plot, though, just the fact that we saw it. My mind was still kinda foggy. The internet said sleep deprivation would eventually cause short term memory loss, but I didn't expect it to settle so early on.

October 17th // day 3

It's 2.56AM and I'm really not feeling well. Not in a physical way, my body is fine, but mentally. I wanted to start writing, thinking I would be more creative after more than 36 hours without rest and I opened my computer, when I heard some noise from the front door. I went to check and obviously, it was locked, so I went upstairs again. I sat down at my desk and after staring at the blank word document for what seemed to be an eternity, I started getting lots of intrusive thoughts. I told myself "Of course, the door was locked, dumbass. If somebody were in your home, they would lock the door, so you wouldn't know they were there. Then when you least expect it, they would attack your family and then murder you", then started imagining all the possible scenarios. Would I be murdered, butchered and left to suffer, or just robbed? Maybe a serial killer was in the house, watching me. Now I'm writing in this diary trying to calm myself, covered under the blankets. They give me a sense of warm comfort and safety, but the silence makes me feel uneasy. Maybe the 5 cups of coffee I had are giving me anxiety. Or maybe the lack of sleep is making me paranoid? It seems I'm getting more creative, but not in the way I wanted. I think I'll text Linda to take my mind off this dread I'm feeling and hopefully she'll be awake, but first I'll look under the bed.

This morning I waited until the sun would be completely up to get out of bed. It was about 9AM and the house was empty. Mom and Jared went shopping and left a note on the fridge. Not wanting to be in that 4 bedroom house, all by myself, with a potential serial killer, I decided to go for a run. Writing this seems ridiculous now and not something you would expect from a 24 year old, grown up, and well educated man, but last night I felt like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Anyway, mom and Jared returned and we had lunch together. Trying to crack the silence a little bit, mom started telling us a story about how she almost got arrested in her 20s, or something like that, but I couldn't focus. It felt like somebody was pressing on my eyelids and trying to keep them shut against my will. I felt detached and really calm, it was like all the emotions she had been trying to transmit, with her ample hand gestures and loud voice, couldn't reach me. I was being protected by a transparent wall. Last night, I was thinking I should stop this experiment and just go to sleep, but this "high" I'm feeling right now is really worth it. I feel like I can now finally go work on my novel. It feels like no distraction from the outside can reach me right now.

I started writing the first chapter, not really having a plan. Just writing what went on in my mind and not knowing where the story would take me, overwhelmed with curiosity and the need to know what would happen next. I was stuck in a trance-like feeling, like I was being captivated by a really unpredictable movie. This went on for about 5 hours, but I didn't feel the time passing by. It would've continued for much longer, but mom came to my room to call me for dinner, suddenly bringing me back to reality. When I got up I felt bad. Really bad. All the things I had not been feeling while stuck in the "process of creation'' came back with an overwhelming intensity: hunger, thirst, the need to go to the bathroom. My bladder felt like it was about to burst when I got up and my spine cracked painfully. My eyes stung. The smell of garlic bread invaded my lungs.

After dinner, Jared said he still had a bit of aftertaste after that garlic bread and asked me if I could give him a piece of the packet of gum he bought me that morning and once again I didn't know what he was talking about. I couldn't remember it. Mom said "Jar, honey, maybe you forgot to give it to him.", to which he responded, "No, ma! I went to his room and gave it to him as soon as we came home. Mark, if you don't want to share, you can just say so, there's no need to play dumb!". I met mom's eyes and rather than looking angry, she had wrinkles of concern on her broad forehead.

I tore my room down trying to find that damned packet of gum, going through all my stuff. I would think of a place and then the picture of the packet in that place would pop up in my mind, convincing me I remembered where I had put it, only when I went to check, it wasn't there. This cycle went on and on until there was no place left unchecked. I even looked inside the curtain rods, and still hadn't found that god damned gum. Maybe I'm going insane. I'm starting to question my sanity a little bit.

I feel so god damn helpless right now. After not finding my fucking gum, I texted Linda again, and she responded, despite the late hour. We talked, and talked, and talked. Or, actually, I talked, and talked, and talked. Her answers were monosyllabic and she wouldn't contribute to the conversation. I sent her a text "Linda, honey, what's wrong? You seem distant." To which she answered "Mark, there's something I need to tell you...". Thinking she was seeing someone else, I asked "What is it?", this time ditching the "honey" part. She then told me "I've been diagnosed with cancer. Breast cancer. And I have no money for treatment and no insurance". When I read that text I left out a gasp. I still feel like the ceiling came falling down on my head in that moment. I don't know what to do. I want to help Linda. We have such a powerful connection. She's been there for me, answering my texts at 3AM and comforting me. I really like Linda. Shit I love Linda.

I will pay for her treatment.

October 18th// day 4

I'm writing this tomorrow, October 19th. Yesterday I didn't get to write. I finally fell asleep in so long and woke up 20 hours later.

I sent Linda a text at about 4AM "I will pay for your treatment, my love. Just send me the amount and the bank account", to which she answered "I will be eternally thankful to god that he sent you in my life. I love you so so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.", alongside with the account details. Without even thinking, I transferred $100000 to that bank account, after repeatedly checking I had written the correct numbers, because my blurred vision and drowsy mind made it really hard to focus.

I went to the bathroom before breakfast today and caught a glimpse of my reflection. Only it looked much older. Much worse. Unshaved stubble, eyes that resembled grape tomatoes, more than they resembled eyes, and puffy, purple eye-bags. "What am I doing to myself? This is utter masochism" I mumbled. "Fuck. I'm talking to myself now. I'm going insane" I said, louder. I suddenly remembered why I had been doing this for the past four days and decided to check my work, to assure myself I hadn't been depriving myself of sleep for no reason. I opened the word document, hoping to find a masterpiece, the work of a creative genius.

It was bad. Horrible. I grew more and more disappointed with every word I read. It was really depressing to think about how I had been wasting almost a week of my life, when the deadline was approaching so fast. I did not want to be a one book wonder. I wanted to be famous, great. The publisher offered me this chance and it seemed like I had been wasting it. I'm a failure. It was so sad I started laughing. I was hysterical. My belly ached. I was losing my mind.

At noon I got a text from Linda "Things are going too fast. I need a break". Fuck. What was that supposed to mean? I tried calling and she didn't answer. I searched her on tinder and couldn't find her. She had blocked me. I plugged my phone in, because it was running out of battery after texting her all night and decided to go for a run to clear my mind, even though dragging my feet felt almost impossible to me. I was so tired. All for nothing. Before going out the front door, I started laughing again. Mom saw me, but didn't say anything.

When I came back I opened my phone to re read our texts. Maybe I'd said something wrong. They were not there. I couldn't find them. Had I been imagining her?

But my bank account was still missing 100k. What the fuck? I screamed in my head. Suddenly, I got the most horrible migraine I'd ever had. My head felt like it had just been sliced open with an axe, or something equally sharp. I must have also screamed in real life, because mom came to my room, approaching me slowly, as not to disturb me even more than I was. She said ''Sweetie, you haven't been yourself lately. Let's talk". I laid down with my head in her lap, as I did when I was a kid and wanted to get something off my chest. I told her everything I've written here. The experiment, the paranoia, the memory loss, Linda, the shit that was supposed to be the beginning of my novel. I finished talking and felt so warm, so fuzzy, so relieved. I fell asleep.

October 18th

Today after I woke up from a deep, 20h slumber, mom came to me and said: "Listen, Mark, we need to talk. I wanna be honest with you.". "What is it, ma?", I asked, expecting another unwanted surprise. My head still ached. She said, "You see, Mark, honey. When you moved back home, and I saw your search history, wanting to google a pie recipe, it occurred to me you might have had suicidal thoughts. I felt scared, but did not want to discuss it with you, as not to make the situation worse. So I did the only logical thing that came to my mind.". "What, ma?", my heart was skipping, but with surprise and curiosity, instead of anger. "I placed a hidden camera in your room.". I couldn't believe it, at first I thought she was trying to be funny, and I let out a forced laugh. Then I saw her nervously chewing on the tip of her pointer finger and avoiding my gaze. "I did not mean to spy on you, it was just in case your behavior would've gotten strange. So you wouldn't do anything stupid, you know.". "Why are you telling me all this? Don't you think I have enough on my mind, already, for fuck's sake?". This was the first time I've ever sworn in mom's presence.

She said "I'm telling you this, because after what you've told me last night, I felt obliged to check the footage of this week and there's something I need to show you.". We went upstairs to her room and we sat own on the black leather couch. She placed her laptop on my lap and showed me the footage of Jared repeatedly coming into my room. Using my computer. Using my phone while I had been running yesterday. Fuck man, he must've messed with my novel and replaced it with actual gibberish.

But what about Linda? Had he been talking to her, convincing her to ghost me and steal my money? Well it wasn't exactly theft, because I'd voluntarily given it to her, but still... I was so angry. My head throbbed even more and I saw in ma's mirror how my neck vein looked as if it were about to burst. Still I had to contain myself, I couldn't look like a madman in her presence, so I eased the frown between my eyebrows and bit my lips trying to suppress my feelings.

I entered his room without knocking and he wasn't there. Very strange, because he never left his room apart from when he went shopping with mom. We called his name and looked in every room. He wasn't there and has not returned even until now. And it's 12PM.

October 20th

This morning Jared was nowhere to be seen. To occupy my time while waiting for him I decided to look at all the footage, fast forwarding it. Wednesday the 17th. I remembered that packet of gum I still hadn't found, and it came to my mind how Jared said he came to my room and gave it to me. I decided to watch closely, to see what I had done with it, to get some kind of assurance I had not actually lost my mind. Only there was no part in that video of him coming to my room. No gum. But why would he lie about something so trivial? I googled "people convincing you of stuff that never happened".

I came across the phenomenon of gaslighting. "manipulating someone by psychological means into doubting their own sanity", that was what he had been trying to do, and actually succeeded. How dumb could I have been? The movie, which now I'm sure we never went to, the gum. Hell, he had been maybe making all those sounds to make me paranoid. Fuck.

He was gone. He wasn't there at noon and I convinced mom to go to the police. We told the cops the whole story, also mentioning Linda and they said they would start searching for him. As I'm writing this I'm still waiting to get some news from them.

I just got a call. The police said they checked into the local data base and that the only Linda living in a 10 mile radius was a 93 year old retired nurse. Definitely not my Linda. Could it be possible that he actually made a fake account to cat-fish me? Fuck, that's why we had so many things in common and felt such a strong connection with her, because she had been my brother. That's why I saw him awake that night, not because he'd been gaming. He manipulated me, stole my money and then deleted all the evidence on my phone and computer, to make me think that the lack of sleep damaged my brain and I had been imagining everything. Then he ran away. All the signs were obvious, but I'd been too stupid and tired to notice. But most importantly, how twisted is it to fall in love with your own brother? In my defense, I did not know it had been him.

I'll go to the police tomorrow morning and tell them everything I know now. Hopefully they'll find him. I'm not even mad about the money, it's not that much. But I feel betrayed and stupid. The lack of sleep has left its mark on me: I still have to fight to keep my eyes open, but the anxiety is gone. Google says there won't be any long term effects, so I'll be fine. I don't even know what's gonna happen next, but at least now I have a new and exciting plot for my long awaited novel.

About me

Hello, thanks for reading my story! My name is Irina Dumitrescu and I'm 15 and a sophomore in high-school. This is the first short story I've ever written. If you have any feedback, feel free to hit me up on Instagram @_irinadumitrescu or to email me at irinagabrieladumitrescu26@gmail.com!
The Other Brother

by Adrian Suciu

'Hey, doc, can you hold this?'

'What? A gun? I've never put such a thing in my arms before!'

'Well, you know, it's us or them now. Since you've become my brother, we need to end this together'.

The cave walls were coming down Louis' head. A stalactite above was dripping on his back blood drops, going down his spine making him shiver.

This is going to kill me - and fast - he thought. His eyes were popping out, his knees were trembling and his lips dried.

'Come on - take it. I show you how to use it'.

He took it and hold it, weighing it.

Suddenly, there was a thunder inside the cave, then a sound hissing and pitching and growing pouring white noise inside and torturing his ears.

His eyes became red from the dust and he could smell the blood - his own blood and could taste its metallic taste.

Now I'm fucked - he thought.

'Down!!!!' his fellow shouted. He dragged him and pushed him into a recess nearby.

'Where are my glasses?'

'Stop asking stupid questions! Look carefully: this is how the gun is armed...' A sound clicked and the trigger made a small move. 'And this is how you point... and shoot'. A boom smashed into his ears and he could hear nothing but white noise for almost a minute. He could see his fellow's mouth talking but no words were going through to him.

He fainted into a dream...

***

The clock on the wall turned nine o'clock sharp. One second later the lab door slammed against the wall. A 45-year-old man entered the room, a smile on his face. His glasses were reflecting a few sun rays like stained glass.

'MORNING!' thundered his voice into the room, his hand arranging a few white hairs over his bald head.

Two people, a man and a woman were sitting in front of a table full of test-tubes dripping an orange-juice looking liquid into them. They could feel shivers down their spine. The man coughed then articulated:

'Morning'.

'What's with the long faces? Have you been to a funeral?'

'Haven't you heard about last night?', asked the woman - middle aged, brown long hair, glasses.

'What? The attacks? Bastards! Cowards! I hope police will catch them in their rat hidings, flood them and kill them in cold blood.' Even better: they should hang each and every terrorist caught so that all can see them and disgrace them. I told you: this is war! Freaking never-ending WAR!

Speaking of blood - how are we doing with those samples we have received from the Middle East?' said Louis looking at the woman under his thick lenses.

'They're fine, we're adding them to the latest experiments. Our rats will get a dose soon and we hope to obtain a triple rate of cells dividing in half the time. Come and see the results in a few hours!' said she, looking at him from her chair, her glasses dropped onto her nose. Louis nodded, articulated a short 'Aham' then went into his office.

The two exchanged glances behind his back.

Dr. Louis's office was an all-glass room with enough space to accommodate 6 people.

In the very middle there was a desk with a couch in front surrounded by chairs. On one of the walls there was a library and a few family pictures on a shelf. The rest of the space was empty.

He threw his bag on a chair and plunged onto the couch. On the desk and on the floor were spread the papers from last night - he picked one and started to read: 'Report on the progress with _hermofibia_ , the new breakthrough in anti-aging and skin care. We continued experiments with rats and results are promising. Blah Blah...' He threw it away and picked another one: 'Report: today during experiment #3472/120.55 we noticed an unusual change in cell structure due to our latest _hermofibia_ formula. For the first time we have seen the cell activity reverse in time, leading effectively to the cell getting young over time. We expect the change to be unstable, leading to unknown consequences, even averse for the subject given a reasonable amount of time.'

'Given a reasonable amount of time! What a bullshit' thought Louis aloud. 'We need to be SURE. Is this effect lasting or not?'

Louis looked over the library for a big Anatomy treaty. His hand hit one of the picture frames on the shelf and smashed it to the floor, a few shards spreading on the papers. Louis flinched with a grimace 'What the...' Then he said: 'I am _also_ getting older here!'.

He picked up the picture and looked. As he kept looking, a teardrop appeared on the corner of an eye, his hand trembled and his mind went back to his '20s in California.

***

He could see the man in the picture standing in front and leering at him. 'Man, I do not understand your reasons! You have a great future here at Berkeley. You just started the master in biomedicine, you can have a great career here! And you, want to go to... Paris! Why on earth would you leave your family, your brother and go there?'

'I want to know my ancestors! You know our grandfather came here in the '50s and left part of his studies at the University. I want to look over his discoveries and continue his work from there. If you want you can follow me.'

'The hell I want! I need to stay here with our mother and take care of her. You are only thinking at your freakin' cells and how to play with them so that you can manipulate them. What do you want? To play the God? One day all these things will fight back and you will regret.'

He remembered then talking to his mom: 'It was easier, as she had infinite faith in me and my dreams. She only told me: Go with God and do not forget us!'

Then he thought aloud: 'What a pity I had never had the chance to see her again, she died while I was on the flight to Paris. I knew she was very ill, and I trusted my brother to care for her, but I wasn't expecting this to happen'.... 'Sometimes I think I am such a fuckin' selfish bastard!'

And what happened to John - Louise's brother? He came to Paris a few months later, and all he was able to do was to re-start selling drugs to poor people. Soon he entered the bands of immigrants in the banlieues and... next Louis remembered himself in front of a Police Officer testifying for his brother. 'He had gotten himself into that shit and I was supposed to get him out again!' – he thought aloud.

He remembered his thoughts by that time: 'No sir - this time you are all alone.' So he let him go to prison as drug dealer and terrorist suspect – who had worked with one of the most radical Islamists in Paris!

'Yes, I HAD A BROTHER! I renegaded him. I have no brother anymore!' – shouted Louis, getting back from his dream.

A tear dropped on the picture as he was looking at it. It was a happy family snapshot during a fishing weekend back in the States. He was standing by his brother, each holding a big catch, smiling at the photo.

Louis put the picture on the desk and rushed outside to his team to shout more orders.

***

It was raining. Louis was walking by the bridge. Water was hurling under him. There was no moon or other lights to guide him. He wore a dark mantle and the hat covered his face. His boots went deep into the mud as he kept walking, looking down. He knew the path. Soon he would arrive at the wooden chalet and get warm by the chimney chatting with everybody else.

He was looking forward to this meeting for almost a month. He had something outstanding to present. For the first time, he had managed to command a cell reverse course - getting younger first, then getting older back, with almost precise control.

He had everything printed out and kept the papers near his chest so they don't get wet.

_Dark Matters Society_ had the second half year meeting and all were there. Young, old, dark hair, long beards, all the people dealing with extraordinary powers that set them apart from the rest were sitting there tonight.

Paris was to witness a breakthrough in applied magic – there would be a demonstration of accelerated cell aging on a Guinea Pig.

Everything was ready for the experiment, Louis kept the orange liquid in a small blank-labeled bottle in the pocket.

The pig was trapped in a corner eating dinner. From time to time he pointed its red eyes up to the people around and groaned.

At the right time, two strong hands grabbed the animal, lifted it, injected the substance and...

Silence.

Some older brethren started whispering magical incantations. The others started too. Soon all were dancing and shouting in a dervish style madness. Louis got caught in the middle. He wanted to escape – he thought: 'What a bullshit, there is no more science here' - still he was dragged into the dance.

The shouting raised and raised, while the pig was squeaking running around the room to find shelter.

And... TADA! All stopped. With a freaking squeaking the face of the animal was destroyed by wrinkles within seconds. Then the skin of the body got hundreds of wrinkles too. Then its bones got smaller, and everything about the animal appearance changed right under their noses.

With a final shivering sound, the small pig stopped and laid down, dead.

Silence

Then cheers, mad cheers, from 20 drugged voices, all screaming at the same time: Lo-u-is, Lo-u-is!

They took Louis and were throwing him in the air, catching him at the last moment. Louis was so happy, he thought he was already communicating with the spirits.

Suddenly he banged his head on the wooden floor of the chalet and went into a deep sleep.

All he could see before fainting was a thick fog invading the room, then everyone one by one laying on the floor in an instant sleep.

'Oh shit. Probably we all got to heavens! Today must be the _Toussaint_ '.

***

Louis got up shaken by every road twist and pit. He could not feel his arms and had a terrible headache. He wasn't able to see anything through the thick blindfold but he could hear the voices. Short shouts, with a weird American accent - he remembered from his military service. 'Now I'm fucked' he thought. 'I am going to get trialed for the theft of technology and go to jail like my brother! - How stupid!'

He made a move. Immediately a boot checked his back. 'Stay still, we're not there yet!'

In the end they stopped in the middle of a wide area. There was huge noise from the engines of a military jet ready to take off. 'Where are you taking me? That's kidnapping! I am an American citizen!'

'Shut up if you don't want to smell some more _grass_!' The voice said.

They stopped the car by the plane, took Louis as a dead body and threw him inside the plane. After the protocol check the pilot and two men dressed in suits got up into the plane and closed the plane door.

The trip lasted for more than 4 hours. During this time, Louis got untied, sat comfortably in a chair and had nice conversation about weather and food in Paris with the guys in suits. Apparently they were young Americans, with little to no experience traveling to Europe. They were curious to hear about lifestyle in Paris, Moulin Rouge and other stuff. Louis was happy to talk to someone so that he could tamper his thoughts. At some point he asked: 'Where are we going?'

There was a moment of silence.

'We are not allowed to tell you until we get there. It's a military place'

'But why? Why me?'

'You will see' said a voice he remembered was speaking also in the car bringing him to the airfield. It was a high pitch scratching Louis' ears.

He kept on thinking what was going to happen. He had finished Military Service 20 years before and could not remember doing something nasty apart from some drinking nights with girls – with no consequences by that time as the lieutenant had also been passionate with drinking and girls.

Then Louis remembered the night when he was taken. He remembered the pig laying on the floor. It can't be! - he thought, then waved his hand over his bald head like throwing away a fly.

***

'Wake up!' 'WAKE UP!!' Louis felt a boot on his back then suddenly the room was invaded by light. After a while he heard some strident noise in the kitchen, some cabinets doors opened then the familiar noise of the spoon hitting the cup. A floral tea smell raised into the air. He opened his eyes and could see who talked earlier. A man, mid-aged military-dressed, about 2m tall and strong arms was staring at him his eyes weighing his aspect. Louis got up and dressed in a minute. His face had lots of question marks, so the military went on:

'Well Doctor, here you are at last.' he said, taking a sip from the tea. 'Let me introduce myself: Captain McCarthy, 23rd Infantry Division, third time in a mission in Afghanistan and responsible with your accommodation. You have here everything you need, including a special room for your lab. You are not allowed to leave the apartment except when accompanied by me, and only when in a mission.'

Louis raised one eyebrow. 'Yes, we're here in a mission. Your breakthrough discoveries, especially the unofficial ones are well known to our Intelligence and you were entrusted in an important mission. You'll see later today what it's all about.'

Louis face was turning various colors, he could feel his ears burning and he opened his mouth to say something but was unable to articulate. He stood in front of the Captain and could not believe. He thought: Yesterday I used to have a normal life, going to the office, going out and suddenly I finds myself in this remote place, with all those restrictions. What can be more?

McCarthy walked him through the building - full of old furniture and paintings, down to the cellar where _the lab_ was located. His eyes popped out when he could recognize almost all his lab materials, including some of his books.

'Why on earth do you need a lab here in the desert?' Louis asked the Captain.

'You'll see tomorrow. Until then, check your stuff and prepare some modified _hermofibia_. Here is the radio transmitter - if there is an emergency press the button. See you tomorrow morning at 6!'

The door slammed.

' _See you tomorrow at 6_ '... Bleah! Louis showed the tongue and an obscene sign towards the door. Then he thought:

'Well, congratulations Doc! You're famous now. So famous that you'll probably ruin yourself soon...'

***

It was dark inside the cave and the metal door screeched so that his ears hurt and his head ached. Bats were rotating overhead, water drops were rolling down his back, mixing with his own cold sweat. Legs hurt, after having passed over a thousand rocks and a hundred mud pits.

After a sleepless night here he was, at _The Secret Cave_. He remembered the trip: again blindfolded and again his back could feel every shake of the road, only it seemed shorter this time.

As he walked, walls grew wider and higher and gave way to a big cave saloon. Inside there was a sort of furniture resembling office desks and in the back, in a few niches there were prison cells where one could see some indefinite shapes - the convicted.

There were guards - more guards than prisoners! - armed to teeth. They were throwing chilly glances to the newcomers. After identification protocol, Louis was taken to an office improvised into a wide opening in the wall on the left side. The space was closed with a metallic door and a big lock. Inside, no furniture, only a small desk, a chair and a lamp. Interrogatory room - thought Louis.

Indeed, after a short wait came a massive man graded Captain and started speaking his voice thundering and echoing in the cave:

'Name, Nationality, Occupation!'

'Hey, when are you guys going to tell me what's going on? I've been kidnapped from my lab in my country and taken in this rat hole overnight. Now I am taken interrogatory like an ordinary prisoner. Are you out of your minds??'

'SHUT UP! Here I am the only one giving orders and you must obey. Remember, outside it's a war and they can't wait to fry your delicate ass with their flamethrowers. Answer the questions and you will be given instructions for today.' His sharp look did not allow for more conversation.

'Louis Pixii, American-French, Doctor in advanced Biochemistry'

'Doctor Louis, you are here for an important mission inside the American control zone in Afghanistan. We are dealing with a bunch of very dangerous terrorists that have been caught recently. We want to interrogate them and need your help to convince them confess the region cave plan of the Taliban forces. You are going to inject your substance, er...herma...'

'Hermofibia'

' _Hermofibia_ , exactly! We have been informed about the latest positive results to control aging and we think that we can make them confess when faced with an almost god like power, much over their understanding. All you have to do is prepare the right dose - remember we mustn't kill them - then apply the aging effect on parts of their body. We start in 10 minutes, in this room. You are dismissed for now!'

Bang! That was it! Finally they gave their brass on their faces. So that's was all about - experiments on humans. And he had only tested _hermofibia_ on rats and guinea pigs so far. Holy Moly! This is even worse than prison - thought Louis.

What if I failed, and killed instantly all prisoners - I will be a criminal and a war suspect.

What if it has no effect - I will be fraternizing with the enemy. Now this is a shitty situation. I wish I were back on my lab dealing with boring skin care essences test tubes!

Well - this is the war and I am now part of it, so need to act accordingly. Let's prepare the gear. Louis started to lay the tubes and syringes he had taken from his new lab. When all was ready, he went back to the interrogatory room.

On the chair there was a young man simply dressed, with a dark skin and a sharp look. He had a child-like face, skin was perfectly stretched. Poor guy - thought Louis.

The prisoner had no apparent violence marks on his body and looked relaxed.

'Hey - Ahmed, meet our doctor Louis. He is specialist in skin cancer medicine and will examine you today. We want to check your health before we sentence you. We hope you live long enough to stay in that rathole prison nearby!'

Louis approached Ahmed and took his arm in his hand. A strong arm with a few scars from previous fights but a strong arm nevertheless. 'I am going to inject you a control substance to see at the scanner' Louis said in a trembling voice. He would rather inject a stalagmite instead. His hand started to shake and he was words less for the next minutes. Finally, after taking his pulse and blood pressure he put the needle to the syringe and poured the liquid. It looked like mango juice. The prisoner looked intrigued to the operation. He took the injection without a gesture. Soon after, he became restless. He started to cover his face with his hands, ears went red then blue and then red again. He felt like throwing up, had a few spasms then fainted and laid on the floor unconscious.

'I hope you did not kill him, doc!' Louis heard a voice right next to him that made him thrill'.

'I don't know' he said 'I told you I did not test this on human beings'

The last syllables were inaudible since Louis was on the verge of throwing up.

Suddenly, the man on the floor started to move, but this was a chaotic movement, like fighting an invisible enemy. He kept on putting his hands on his face, then a general 'Aaaahh!' and an electrical emotion stroke the room. The other attendants, guards, officers, soldiers all stood still like a stone. They looked at Ahmed with their eyes popping like in the cartoons. The substance had indeed manifested effects. They were sitting now in front of a 60-year old man, with big wrinkles on the face, grey hair and a not-so-sharp look anymore in the face.

The officer approached him and woke him up with a hit in the back. He had a mirror in his hands holding it in front of the prisoner. When he got up, he was almost again to go down.

'What the...'

'I told you,' said the officer, our doctors are real professionals. Thank you doc, you are dismissed for this afternoon. See you tomorrow.'

He packed his bag then walked towards the exit by the prisoners cells in the cave walls. It was a sad sight of human degradation, with people throwing him weird glances while shouting bad curses and the name of Allah. I will probably go straight to hell outa here - thought Louis. There was a rumor in crescendo when he left the cave and he could hear a few gunshots in his back. The car started the engine and went full speed into the forest.

***

It was almost a week since Louis Pixii - the eminent biochemistry specialist from Paris was brought to a secret place in Afghanistan to experiment on real people what he had only dreamt of during all his career. He used to be an atheist with profound disguise for all topics related to religion. He even rejected the other atheists that mocked the religion. He simply did not want this in his life. Since he had been brought to this mission in Afghanistan he started thinking of the religion every day. He was impressed by how fearless the prisoners had taken the torment. Despite the incredible effect _hermofibia_ had on their skin and on their look, prisoners remained calm and did not betray their brothers. He was impressed.

Today they went to the cave as usually, and Louis administered the substance to one of the last prisoners. He stood still and got his injection with straight eyes, while shouting: 'Allah Akbar!' Right before leaving, apparently Louis walked onto a slippery rock and twisted his ankle. 'Aaaaargh! I can't walk anymore' he said to McCarthy. 'I need to rest here a few hours. You can leave without me, I'll come back to the base with the change of guards tonight'

They left him alone.

Soon afterwards Louis was near the cave cell of the prisoner from the first day. There was something weird in his way of talking, he thought he could recognize a French accent in his talk.

'Hey, Ahmed, wake up, it's me the doc. Listen, where do you come from? I hear your accent, you don't seem to be raised here in the mountains'

'What do you want? Yeah, I am French'.

'French! Where did you live?'

'I used to live in Paris'.

'How did they catch you?'

'I was involved in drug dealings and got caught and imprisoned a few years ago'.

'And how did you get here?'

'My brother was involved in the last terrorist attack in Paris and they thought to bring me here so I convince them to give away the hidden cave network. I am not stupid. They'd better kill me instead! What's up doc?'

Louis face was turning green, then blue, then yellow. He could barely articulate the next question.

'Did you meet John Pixii?'

Ahmed thought for a minute. 'A tall, blue-eyed man very stubborn and a skilled drug dealer? Yes. We shared a cell in the Paris high security prison. Actually he was one of my best friends.'

This was too much for Louis! He grabbed the man between the bars and started to shake him hard.

'You, bastard, you are responsible to ruin my brother's life. You and your bloody war in the name of Allah!'

Bang! Louis could hear nothing but a whizzing noise for about a minute.

'Thou shalt not ever take the name of Allah in desert!' Shouted the man behind the bars. You made enough mal in your life, now leave! I don't want to see you again!

That night Louis could not sleep again. He had several nightmares, some Arab youngers were following him on steep hills of the village with long knives in their hands. He was begging: 'Stop, I want to help you fools. You must escape this place. Let me help you! '

He waked suddenly all wet from the sweat. The walkie - talkie was buzzing.

'Wha...'

'Wake up, I come take you in 30 minutes'

All the way to the prison Louis thought how to help Ahmed and himself escape the prison. He approached his cell in silence and whispered through the bars:

'Hey, Ahmed. I am sick of playing god here. I have done enough bad in the world. You are a brave man and will manage to get out of this prison. I want to help you and come with you'.

'You must be out of your mind, doc. Have you had some of your substances at the breakfast? Americans are all over the place. Where should I go - '

'I don't know. Don't you have a family remains here? Grandparents, uncles? Go somewhere in the countryside and no one will care about you.'

The promise of liberty put a smile on Ahmed's face. Even his dark color looked lighter now. The weird wrinkles had got uglier with the time - he now looked like a grandfather.

'Oh - and I have an antidote for this', Louis pointed to Ahmed's face. 'Remember, I used to play the God in my lab. Some rats have shown clear signs of recovery after a few doses of antidote. Let's escape this prison and I'll make you back young!'

He had a plan to escape. He would steal a few hand grenades and some smoke petards and hide them. Then, in a moment before leaving he would simulate another accident and stop on the cave overnight. Then...

***

Louis and Ahmed were standing in complete darkness prepared for anything. They put hand in hand and Ahmed said: 'Now we are in this together, like BROTHERS. Prepare to die!'

Bang! Fssssss. Swosh. BOOOM!

Ding, Ding, Ding!

'Hey, doc, can you hold this?'

'What? A gun? I have never put such a thing in my arms before!'

'Well, you know, it's us or them now. Since you've become my brother, we need to end this together'.

The cave walls were coming down Louis' head. A stalactite above was dripping on his back blood drops, going down his spine making him shiver.

This is going to kill me - and fast - he thought. His eyes were popping out, his knees were trembling and his lips dried.

'Come on - take it. I show you how to use it'.

He took it and hold it, weighing it.

Suddenly, there was a second thunder inside the cave, then a sound hissing and pitching and growing pouring white noise inside and torturing his ears.

'Let's go, I know the second way out' Louis was running behind Ahmed his sweat covering his face, the weight of the gun pressing down his shoulder.

Soon the cave walls got so low that they needed to crawl. The lamps on their heads were pointing a faint light and they could feel the moisture with all their senses.

After a while Louis said:

'Look, I am exhausted. Why won't you leave me here and go save yourself'

'Nonsense – we'll escape together so that you get to see your other brother in Paris.' said Ahmed.

Soon a slight ray of light reflected on a stalactite –

'We're saved' said Louis.

They got out into a forest clearing. Ahmed was prepared with map and compass - he stole them from the guard he killed.

'I know the way, we need to walk for two days in direction of Jalalabad. Then we reach my grandparents village. I only visited them once in my life, when I was 6. I hope they are still alive'

'Okay, before that let me prepare the antidote. It will need to take a day after I injected it to you and hopefully by the time we reach the village you will be young again!'

They ran through the forest for one day, had to eat grass and mushrooms and were on the brink of starvation. The land was very steep and in the valley they could see the chaos from their escape. Some choppers and jet planes crossed the sky above and they had to find shelter in small caves - the land was a perfect hiding place. No wonder Taliban had chosen it.

After a second night climbing, they reached the peak and saw a wide plane on the other side. 'There' - Ahmed pointed – 'used to be my grandparents village. I don't even know if it exists anymore.'

Louis had injected him the antidote the other night.

In the morning Ahmed had woken up a bit tired but was ok. They had their usual breakfast \- remaining parts from the previous night - a rabbit, some mushrooms and water – 'Thank God and Allah there was plenty of water' – thought Louis.

Soon after noon Ahmed felt bad. He could not walk anymore. His face was turning various colors and his skin color was like magma. After a few minutes of agony, in the end his condition stabilized. To the horror of Louis, he had in front an even older man, almost at the end of his powers.

'Let me help you get to the village' Louis said. Resist and we'll then go to Paris.

Ahmed looked at Louis and smiled. 'Well, you are the only one to go to Paris, you'll bury me in my grandparents village'.

***

By the time they entered the village it was at dawn. It was quiet. Only some birds up in the sky and some stray dogs one could hear. All the buildings in the village were ruined, tumbling grey walls were the only left witnesses from the fire. Louis felt his cold sweat on his back and his eyes turned red from the dust. His lips were burning and legs were weighing one ton each.

'Hey, is there anyone here?' Louis shouted. His shout seemed more like a whisper. 'SALAM ALECU!'

Nothing. Complete silence.

'Let's go there' - Ahmed said, pointing to a small hill. It took them almost one hour to go uphill and they both laid down almost unconscious.

On top of the hill was a minaret and a few cut rocks around. Ahmed went to one of them and read the Arabic inscription.

'Here! Here I want you to bury me! When you go back to Paris tell your other brother how Ahmed died in glory, tormented by the enemy but never cooperating.'

He looked Louis in the eyes and said: You, my brother have cleared your sin, by liberating me from the pagans. Your soul will go to Heavens, meet you there.

The last effect of the _hermofibia_ took him down and after a minute he stopped breathing.
About the Author

This is the first Short Story published by Adrian Suciu. A non-fiction novel is on the way.

He works in Information Technology as an Agile Coach and is passionate about story-telling, science fiction and space exploration.

You can reach him at

<https://twitter.com/adysuciu>
The Alternatives

by Veronica Preda

While looking at her mirror reflection, Sophia arranged a fold of her dress and took a napkin from the silver box on the vintage wood table. She pressed it against her lips and gazed at the marks left by the lipstick her beautician had applied. _Red is so not my color!_ She started rubbing her lips and rummaging through a drawer, looking for a different lipstick. She turned her head to one side: _Now it's better! Maybe I should have my nose done!_ She shook her head, releasing a few strands from her hairdo. _Too expensive! My dress, my hairdo and an operation like this! And it would be very painful! I'm not 20 anymore!_

She could hear the music from downstairs. Her husband insisted on bringing a band that was performing its summer hit. Sophia looked at the paychecks Andrew had already prepared: live music, a chef and countless helpers, flowers, new curtains, drinks, anniversary cake... The list was going on forever. For what? To remind everyone that one more year had passed by... _Useless party_!

"Oh my God, you look like a Greek goddess!"

Andrew needed no more than two steps to walk the distance from the door to the place where his wife was standing. He embraced her, while his hands were slipping down, grabbing her hips through the fabric of her dress, making it swish and glisten in the light of the chandelier. She could feel his thighs under the wool material of his trousers. While his fingers were trying to reach her skin, he felt her left knee trembling. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"Well, my beautiful, later. But now our guests are expecting us. Let's go downstairs. If we stay any longer, Aleena will come and break the door, to check if you're fine."

"One second, I need a little bit more lipstick."

He smiled, seeing the chaos in the drawer.

"Not quite satisfied about that new beautician girl?"

"Forget about that, mister. Now tell me: how many Greek goddesses have you dated before me?"

The guests picked up the champagne glasses, as Sophia went down the stairs, holding Andrew's arm. Everybody congratulated her and she kept smiling and thanking each one for being there and for the "thoughtful" gift. Aleena grabbed her arm:

"Let's go over there! How the hell did you remember each person's gift?"

"I had to. But I couldn't think of another epithet except for _thoughtful_..."

"Yeah, but still... Anyway, you look amazing tonight! That hairdo... how much did it cost you? And did you dye your hair?"

"Aleena, you know very well that I have never dyed my hair! We are friends..."

"Best friends!"

"Best friends for more than 15 years and you keep asking the same question every time."

"Because I haven't seen this strange dark yellow at anyone else."

"You've told me that like... a million times."

"And your dress... where did you find it, girl? Silk, isn't it? It matches perfectly! I wish I had your figure!"

"Aleena, you start sounding like a horny man!"

"And you suck at receiving compliments! How has Andrew succeeded to convince you to throw a party?"

"Don't mention it! I will have a stroke when I think about the invoices Andrew had to pay."

"Well, you penny-pinching big manager Sophia Richmond, this is a hell of a good party! Let's go back to your guests! And for God sake, try to look a little bit more modest!"

"Why?"

"I'm used to you and I really know that person who lies inside, but the women at the party don't. Let's try to avoid annoying them!"

"You're right, as usual. They are the spouses of Andrew's business partners."

"And of your partners, as well."

The two women mingled among guests and soon after, the big hall of the Richmond's house filled with laughter, music and joy. Almost everyone insisted to keep a toast in Sophia's honor:

"To our manager, without whom we wouldn't have had the best year in our company's history!"

"To our dear friend!"

"To the symbol of perfectionism!"

Sophia whispered in Aleena's ear:

"I feel like they're making my profile on a business website!"

"Shut up! You're impossible! These people admire you for good!"

"Yeah, sure! Especially that old billy goat from Finance Department. Every time I pass by his office, he checks by buttocks more thoroughly than he checks the tax payment forms."

"I've heard he is such a notorious expert in finances."

"Common! Be serious! The only true expert I know is my MBA professor, Mr. Nowitz."

"And you... you are also an expert."

"Yeah, and me."

"Gosh, my best friend is a monument of modesty! Tell me, what are your plans for the following winter holiday? Another trip to one of those luxurious resorts you like so much?"

"No. It will be Norway this year. We are going there this December."

"You? Andrew... maybe, but you in Norway? You will freeze to death! What the hell are you gonna do in Norway? Ski? With your knees? You are not able to climb a 50 centimeters high rock without twisting your knees."

"I'll do car drifting on snow. And tandem skydive from a helicopter. Pretty extreme, huh?"

"Sophia, if you plan to kill yourself, at least be a dear and let me know, in order to have enough time to prepare your funerals."

They stopped laughing because their husbands were approaching. The two men invited the ladies to dance.

Sophia could sense how Andrew's muscles were moving under his jacket while dancing. Although shaved two hours ago, his chin was a bit shaded by his beard. She caressed his cheek, lingering with her hand on his jaw and following with her fingers the line of his mandible. _Nature has carved you unerringly!_ , she thought. He turned his head a little bit, kissing her palm. She felt his tongue making small circles inside her hand. She fluttered her hand towards one of the waiters:

"Bring the cake!"

"Bringing the cake will make them leave", said Andrew.

"I'm counting on this!"

Later, in their bedroom, they were recalling the best moments of the party.

"The best part was your presence! I'm so proud of you!" said Andrew.

"I'm extremely proud of you too. You were the most elegant man, with your fine black tuxedo. Nobody could ever compare with you!"

She grabbed with the tips of her fingers a corner of his bow-tie. The piece of black silk loosened, allowing her to reach the button of his shirt collar. He took between his fingers a strand of her hair, while she was kissing his neck, right under his chin.

"This dress is a piece of art. Pure gold, as your hair! I'm so sorry that I'll have to remove it!"

"Are you really sorry?"

"Not at all!"

His lips began to explore inch after inch of her body, while his fingers insinuated themselves under her lace lingerie. He could sense how her skin was changing its texture, tingling and forming goose bumps. He knew she wasn't cold. Her left knee trembled again. His wife was inviting him...

Later that night, they were sitting in their bed. Andrew yawned and stretched his legs.

"I ordered the biggest available bed and you still don't have enough space?" - said Sophia, laughing.

"Yep! I'm so tired; I won't be able to walk to work tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow is Sunday. And I won't be able to walk at all!"

He laughed.

"Good night, my heroine!"

"Good night, my hero!"

Andrew switched off his table lamp:

"Aren't you going to sleep?" he asked.

"Just a few more minutes... I want to finish this book. I have only a few pages left."

Half an hour later, she put the book on the nightstand and looked at her husband, who was asleep. She pulled the blanket, wrapping him better. Then she read the book cover one more time : "Replay", by Ken Grimwood. _What a terrible book! Jeff needed the replay, but I definitely don't! Except for the unlikely possibility that I would suffer a heart attack. But except for that, this would be the worst thing that could happen to me! To start all over again! All my youth, my college years, all my hard work! But what would I do if that happened?_ She turned to Andrew. _Well, you can bet that I wouldn't change a goddamn thing! I'm too afraid of losing you!_

***

Sophia felt the sunshine through her eyelids. She reached her hand towards the nightstand, searching for her mobile phone. Her hand didn't touch any object. Her brain announced her: "It's Sunday!" She relaxed and nested better under the blanket. A female voice pierced the silence:

"Sophia, wake up!"

That voice... so familiar and, at the same time, so cold and outlying... It was her mother's voice. Sophia turned around. _Please, not another dream with my mother!_

"Sophia, wake up already! I'm leaving to work! And you have to go to school!"

"It's Sunday!"

"It's Friday! What is wrong with you? I have to go! Wake up!"

"OK, OK!"

Sophia heard a door closing. She pulled the blanket over her nose and fell asleep. Twenty minutes later, she opened her eyes. She saw the table covered with the yellow tablecloth she had stained with ink when she was 8 years old, the small TV, the painting with nicked frames. Her mother insisted on keeping that painting, which was actually a framed poster with a few naked women, carrying some uncertainly shaped vases, while a long-haired dog was looking at them. _God, not this nightmare again!_ She knew what was going to happen: she would be late for school and the time would pass faster and faster until she would wake up trembling, terrified that she would be dead soon. She extended her arm, searching for Andrew. But the tips of her fingers hit the wall, causing a few broken nails. _Ouch! My manicure!_ She stood up, looking at her nails. They weren't long and covered with that pearly Dior polish anymore, but shorter and chewed. And the scar on her wrist was missing. She had got that scar in her thirties, when she had tried to repair a cupboard all by herself . _Jesus Christ! Could that be possible? What kind of sorcery is that?_ She circled the room a few times. When she looked through the window, she saw the small garden where her grandmother had grown tomatoes and bean. _That book influenced me so much, that I went crazy! This is schizophrenia! But why am I aware that I'm being delirious?_ The mirror was in her grandmother's room. The old woman was there.

"What are you doing? Aren't you supposed to be at school?"

"I don't feel well today!"

"You're just like your mother! You'll lose your scholarship and you won't be able to go to college! When you come home pregnant, don't expect me to raise your bastard! I've already done that, with your mother!"

Sophia ignored her and checked herself in the mirror. _Young again! Extremely young!_

"Why are you shivering? Are you pregnant?"

"I'm not!"

"I've told you! You should eat more! Why the hell do you insist on being thin?"

"I feel good the way I am!"

"No man likes skinny women!"

I thought you're afraid of me getting pregnant! You are exactly how I remember you! But don't worry! This time, I know how to deal with you, old shrew!

She headed back to her room and heard her grandmother yelling:

"Don't forget to feed Rex!"

The dog was waiting outside, wagging his tail:

"Rex, my boy! I've missed you so much!"

She dipped her hands into his soft fur and started to cry. She knew that Rex had left only 4 years to live. There was the day after her 16th birthday. She didn't understand how she knew that, but she knew. She remembered what homework she had had, she knew her school schedule for the whole week and she knew that 6 years would have to pass until she would be with Andrew again. 6 long years... At this moment, a psychiatric exam was out of the question, because she did not have any money, therefore she decided to go back to sleep. _Maybe it's just a psychotic episode!_ She couldn't sleep anymore. _I'm gonna die! I went back in time to die at 16!_ She went again to her grandmother and asked the old woman's medicines for headaches. She would rather have chosen some heart medication or powerful sedatives, but no one in her family was suffering from a heart condition and she didn't find a way to calm down her heart beats. Back to her room, she looked around, searching for something to do. On the chair, she saw her backpack, which she had already prepared. In her math notebook, she had noted a date that confirmed her suspicions. She decided to go to school. _I'll skip French and then I'll have to go through physics, math, literature and gym. The physics teacher will ask me to solve a problem and I will rip a little bit of my t-shirt at the gym. Mom will freak out and I'll go to bed crying. Well, not this time!_

Seven days had passed by and she was still there. And she couldn't stop thinking about Grimwood's book. I don't want this! I don't want it! Let me go back! I want to be 40 again and I want to be with Andrew, in my house! In our house! Please make it stop! Please! I'm not Jeff! I'm real!!

One evening, she heard her grandmother talking with her mother:

"Can't you see? She doesn't eat, she doesn't talk and her eyes are swallowed and red! I'm sure she's been crying! I'm not sure she goes to school anymore! I bet she's pregnant! Take her to a doctor! I won't raise the little whore's child!"

God dammit! This is really happening! I have to start all over again! Well, I know exactly what I have to do! And 17 years from now, I will have completely liberated myself from you, bitches! Or maybe sooner, this time! Definitely, sooner!

She entered her grandmother's room and yelled:

"I'm not pregnant! For your information, I'm a virgin, so chill out! I've been crying because I have the district chemistry competition coming! It's not easy for me to handle the pressure!"

"What pressure?" her mother responded. "You have no pressure! I've just spoiled you too much!"

Yeah, right! Bitches!

17 years... that amount of time she had spent to raise the money she needed to start the business, with Andrew as her partner. But now... now she could remember pretty well all the world cup football competitions and some unexpected victories... And which deals she had lost at the beginning... And who not to hire anymore. 21 years passed. When she turned 37 years old, Richmond Trust was already in top 10 successful businesses in the country. _Much better than last time!_ she thought. _Three more years. That's all! Almost there... almost there..._

In front of the mirror, she arranged again the same fold. Then, the napkin. 40 years old for the second time... Careful! You mustn't forget anything. Which lipstick was it? Yes, of course, the peach one! I'm to pale for bright red! Less than twelve hours and I'm free!

"Oh my God, you look like a Greek goddess!"

OK, perfect!

"I have a surprise for you!"

"What?"

"You'll be glad to know that Mr. Nowitz is here!"

"What? You shouldn't say that, Andrew!"

"Why? I thought his presence would make you happy! I like him as well. I admire his charity work. Why so much money if you don't do something good?"

"No, no, no! You should embrace me and..."

"No problem!"

Before exiting the room with Andrew, she checked one more time: the sleeping pills were there, in the nightstand's drawer.

***

What the hell do you want from me? I did not die and I did not kill anyone! Why did you send me back again? Who are you? The universe, God, Satan? I'm in a bad movie!! One more time do you say? So be it! One more time, goddamned stupid entity, whoever you are!!

5 years after she had woken up for the second time in her mother's house, she convinced herself: in all the books and all the movies, the time traveler was trying to make the world a better place. _This may be the answer!_

Professor Nowitz had always been involved in charity. Sophia turned to him.

"Sophia, when you became my student, I saw in you the next worldwide recognized financial expert! But I wouldn't have expected from you to be so dedicated to charity! Your ideas are amazing! In the past 5 years, since we had begun working with you, our foundation has raised more money than in its entire 40 years long existence!"

"Thank you, Mr. Nowitz!"

Year after year, she planned charity auctions, traveled around the world, looking for sponsors and spent her nights selecting projects and organizing press conferences for the foundation.

I hope this is what you wanted from me! Countless vaccines for Africa, three social shelters for abused women, 1000 dogs saved from the streets across Europe and millions given away for orphans and research! I hope you're satisfied! She turned off her computer, switched off the lights in her office and hastened through the underground parking of the foundation headquarter. Why this hurry? I have three more weeks. Three more weeks and I'll be 40 years old again... for the third time...

Andrew was waiting for her at home, chatting with Aleena.

"She's still at the foundation, right?" Aleena asked.

"Yes, but she called me. She'll be home soon."

"Have I ever told you how much I admire you both? You love each other so much!"

"Hey, you and Brad are doing also pretty well!"

"Yes, we do. Don't get me wrong, I truly think Brad is the most wonderful man on Earth, but you and Sophia... gosh! I'm not jealous or anything, but you are the couple I admire most!"

"Thanks! Sophia is everything to me!"

"And you are everything to her! What are you planning for her birthday?"

"A huge party! She won't like it, I'm sure. You know her..."

"Yeah, she really hates anniversaries."

"Well, this time she'll have to deal with it! After all, she turns 40! Now, where is Brad? Sophia will be here in 10 minutes."

"He's on his way! I can't wait to play Bridge again with you, guys! Do you realize we haven't played for a month?"

They started to laugh.

"We are such a dangerous gang!" Andrew said.

Then he stood up because he heard Sophia entering the hall. He kissed her.

"Aleena is here. Brad is coming. We ordered Chinese, I hope you're OK with that. I wanted to call and ask you, but then I thought you were busy and..."

"Don't worry, my hero. What have you two planned for tonight?"

"Bridge..."

"Mmm... I surely hope that I will convince you all to change that one day!"

"Would you prefer Monopoly?"

I would prefer lion hunting in Kenya! But it doesn't matter! I cannot risk losing you, my love! Any change could be fatal this moment! Three more weeks...

***

The sun was always shining in the morning of that October, in 1994. And Rex was always waiting for her, in the same spot.

"At least you could move a few inches aside..." she said to her friend. "That would spice things a little bit!"

It was the 5th cycle. Well, it seems that whatever I do, you don't like it! You keep sending me back! If you expect me to kill myself... well... you bet on the wrong horse, my cosmic friend! I tried it, it didn't work! Look, I've tried to understand what you want. I've tried to enjoy life more. I've tried to do something good for this world. What else do you want, whoever you are? I'm not Jeff Winston or Harry August, bitch! I don't want to save the world and I don't need to fall in love again or with someone different! I haven't found someone else like me and I'm not that naive to tell authorities I'm a time traveler! What, surprised, aren't we? Just so you know, you're not original, at all! We thought of time traveling, we've written countless books and done countless movies! So, you wouldn't impress anyone with this sick joke of yours! But no problem! From now on, the things will be done my way!

She could not forget. She remembered how she felt the previous two cycles. _That part about enjoying life was a lie and you know that very well!_ She had spent most part of her third cycle lying on dirty mattresses with goading springs, with her arm wrists bleeding from the leather straps that were holding her from escaping or attacking the nurses, being injected at least three times a day with sedatives and anti-depression medication, until her veins had become inert strings. The first week after she had woken up for the third time, she had started howling and crying. "I cannot take this anymore! Please! Set me free!" The sedatives administered by the paramedics couldn't end her yowls and had not retained her from biting a nurse. A few days afterwards, she had been hospitalized in a psychiatric institution. Eight years later, when she had arrived home, after going through a fourth hospitalization for mental illness, Andrew had left her and she had tried for the first time to kill herself. But she had bandaged her wrists and she had dragged herself to the emergency unit of the plastic surgery hospital. The second time, she had managed to call an ambulance, right after she had swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. After the second attempt, she had concluded: "Well, I'm not made for this!". Then, she had spent her 4th cycle dedicating her time, energy and thoughts to religion. And her almost interrupted prayers had made Andrew leave her one more time. He had chosen his words and, with no muscle twitching on his face, expressed that he couldn't understand how an "intelligent" and "rational" woman like her was so "pious". She had started to cry:

"Please, try to understand. Something happened to me when I was 16, something that made me realize once and for all that there is a force greater than me."

"What happened then?"

"An accident."

"Tell me more..."

"I can't. But please, believe me, I'm not a lunatic."

"I believe you. And I'm not trying to change you. I don't want to ask you to make a choice between me and church. It hurts me that you don't trust me enough to tell me more about that accident, but I could accept that. But you spend more time at the church than with me. You fast for weeks and I can not make love to you during that time. You neglect our business and our life. And you've pushed all our friends away because neither of them was religious enough for you. And I haven't got to the worst thing yet!"

"There is a worse thing?"

"Yes. All this religiousness of yours is taking away your freedom."

"What?"

"It's taking away the most valuable thing we have in this life: the power of choice. You aren't good and forgiving because you feel this way, but because the church tells you to do so. It takes away your free will!"

Now, in her 5th cycle, she was determined to not torment herself anymore.

"My handsome boy, this time you're going with me to the University. We'll figure it out! But I won't let you die here, with these two witches!" she said to Rex.

In their small, shabby rented studio, only two blocks away from the university, Rex was happier than ever. Although he was an old dog, her companion was in a pretty good shape. Every afternoon, he was waiting for his owner to come home and to begin their long evening walks. One evening, they were passing by the university. Rex started to pull in a certain direction, sniffing something. There was another dog and Sophia let them play. While looking around, she noticed that, by allowing Rex to follow his nose, they had arrived at the entrance to the Faculty of Physics. Physics... Was her dog a genius or was it a simple coincidence? _How have I missed that so far?_

She remembered a book she had read in one of her cycles; a book about consciously finding and pursuing an inner call. At that time, she thought: _What kind of naively written idealistic bullshit is this? My inner call is to make money! Lots of them would be preferable!_ Throughout her school years, she had comprehended physics and differential equations like majority comprehends that one plus one equals two, but she had chosen Economy every single time. She smiled. The answer became so obvious, that she couldn't retain herself for laughing, making the two dogs stop their playing and look at her. She won't find the answers she needed in literature nor religion!

It took her only one year to readjust everything. She gave up Economy and lost her scholarship, but a part-time job at the professor Nowitz's foundation was enough to make her a living and to allow her to study for the admittance exam at Physics.

One evening, a few years after that, she was chatting with professor Nowitz at the foundation:

"No matter how hard I try, I can't understand why you insist with that physicist career of yours! You're so good with finances! So good! Join my MBA course! I will accept you even though you didn't graduate from the Economy!"

"I can't, professor! Please don't be mad at me! I will continue working on the foundation's projects!"

"It's not about that! But do you really think that this lousy job as a researcher would fulfill your expectations? How much money do you make?"

"Enough to live decently."

"But you could do so much more than _decently_ "

"I know. But I won't give up at quantum physics! I can't!"

"Why?"

"Because it is the only science that, as far as I know, is closest to explain everything!"

Including time traveling! she added in her mind. And I'll go as far as I can!

She continued:

"Professor Nowitz, all my life I have been in love with money. But... and I'm sure that what I'm about to say is a terrible cliché, I've come to the conclusion that knowledge is the greatest wealth someone could have. I know, I know, I said an awful platitude."

"It isn't quite a platitude. But you are wrong."

"Huh?"

"OK, money and knowledge are powerful tools. And they can be acquired over years. But our greatest wealth lies in our brain and it has been there from the beginning: it is our free will."

"My husband said to me the same thing once. Or maybe more than once..."

"Well, what else could I say? Good-luck, professor Richmond!"

"Doctor Richmond!" she replied, smiling. "My PhD dissertation has been accepted!"

***

Not enough! Still not enough!

At the beginning of the 6th cycle, she woke up determined to dig deeper. She needed to find new teachers, new visionary scientists. At the beginning of her 7th cycle, she woke up with a new thought: _I'm getting really tired. And I think I've made some mistakes._ She took a notebook and began to write some fundamentals she had read a thousand times before: "By using a deterministic model, we can anticipate a later state if all the parameters of the previous state are known. Therefore, we can presume that, by exact replication of the previous parameters, we will successfully reproduce the identical state of our object. But this could not be entirely true. Let's go back (or actually forward) for a moment to Penrose and Hameroff. Despite the criticisms, we can agree that threshold criteria must be fulfilled in order to consciously accept a pathway. And let's accept the fundamentals: by not being able to control the transition in any way, we can admit that the object will exist in all states, until an observer breaks the probability wave and determines the object to emerge in an observable and measurable state."

OK, I'm the object, but who is the observer? Is it also me or is it someone else? Or something else? I have only one thing left to dig in: my mind!

***

Many years later, she entered her office. She smiled while reading the plaque: Prof. Sophia Richmond, psychiatrist, MD, PhD. _Let's hope that by the end of the day, all these titles will have proved worthy!_ Patients around the world were looking for her skills in hypnotherapy, post-traumatic stress disorders being her supra-specialization. But what really interested her all the time was regression, despite its controversy.

She looked again on her own MRI scans and lab reports. OK, no atrophy areas, no ventricular dilatation, normal superior temporal gyrus... Nothing! But let's stick to the idea of a psychotic episode. And we can exclude schizophrenia. One possible explanation is trauma, accompanied by a period of amnesia. That night... Well, we'll have to find out what happened that night... We're gonna see by the end of this afternoon if all those years of meditation and auto-hypnosis will have paid off.

She locked the door, drew the curtains and lit the candles. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the white lilac scent, savoring it. She started going through the regression steps. She saw a tunnel of dark purple light, with neon green beams and the events of her life passing by her in reverse order.

_I had expected more_ , she thought to herself after the experience. It was like a near-death experience, such as many other people had had. The only notable difference was the color of the light, and perhaps the absence of any feeling: there was no joy, no peace, no anticipation. _I must have died that night! It's the only logical explanation. But we'll see, we'll see..._

She had only a few weeks to wait until the night of her 40th birthday. She had been 40 years old so many times... But this time, she prepared herself for the transition. She was no longer asleep, but in a deep self-conscious state and away from any outside interference at the same time.

***

She felt herself moving through the same tunnel she had seen in her auto-hypnotic session. The neon green beams were almost blinding her. She saw her scar on the wrist fading. She reached her hand, trying to touch the tunnel walls. Her hand passed through the purple light, but the burning sensation made her pull it back. Her skin was swollen and cyanotic. She felt tempted to try again, anxious to see what lies on the other side. At that moment, the green beams turned to yellow and she woke up sitting on a leather armchair, in a sort of lounge, surrounded by translucent, bright cubicles and spheres, which were floating around her. She said with a loud voice:

"Either my disease has reached a new, critical level or I'm _so_ dead."

"None is true. Comfortable?"

The voice owner entered the lounge, making the floating objects to move aside from his way. He touched one of the cubicles, which transformed into a similar armchair that sat on the floor, without any noise.

"Sophia, I can assure you: you are neither dead nor mentally ill. We had to stop you because you would have killed yourself. Are you comfortable?"

She was looking at the living being with her mouth open: in the upper part of his body and judging by the voice, he seemed like a male, with long, thin arms, covered by a kind of thumbnail scales, which were refracting the light in rainbows. His fingers were at least two times longer than in humans and more than five at each hand. The lower part of his body was also covered with scales, but it reminded her of an octopus tentacle. He was standing straight, leaning on the lowest third of his tail. He sat down in the newly appeared armchair, putting his tail on one of the handles. The pointed tip of that tentacle was hanging free, slightly moving and Sophia noticed a pulsation pattern in that motion.

"I followed your eyes trajectory. I can tell you: I'm a male and I have 8 fingers on each hand. Our species has evolved by using technology and we needed more fingers to operate complex machines better. We don't have feet anymore and we are amphibians. On land, we use a similar way to move forward as your snakes do. If you kept evolving and heating your planet, your species would look the same as we do, but it would take probably ten thousand years or more. But this will not be allowed, of course. And what you see is an artery pulsating. I have one important artery that goes along my body, till the tip of my... how to say it... _my tail_ I guess it's appropriate. We prefer to call it _gok_. And we do have genitals."

His face was similar in size with a human face, but his eye orbits were covering the most part. Even so, she glimpsed kind of a smile. She pinched her arm and felt the pain. Her right hand was also hurting her. She looked at it. It was still swollen and slightly blue.

"We created this environment in order to make you feel comfortable. Your hand will be back to normal in short time. It looks like this because you reached the outer space vacuum when you tried to pierce the regression tunnel's wall. By the way, my name is Laah Ny."

"Nice name... And I wasn't trying to kill myself..."

"Oh, so you do understand me. For a while, I thought I had learned the wrong language. Are you ready for our discussion?"

"Is this a dream? Why do not I wake up? The pain feels so real..."

"Because you are not in a dream. But you are not in your world either. We stopped the regression."

"So I've accessed somehow a rupture in the space-time continuum. A rupture that you have created. But why is the loop going on? And how come I haven't encountered the time-traveling paradox? And why..."

"Wow, slow down... Yes, we have created this phenomenon, but it's not a rupture, is a flexion. We have created an accentuated bent in the probabilistic wave, until you have reached the point where and when you were 16 years old. That's why a paradox time can not occur. You haven't traveled back in time, you have regressed."

"How could that be possible?"

"You know the idea of space traveling, right? When you travel away from Earth, the time passes as commonly accepted "normally" for the inertial observer, but for you, the time will pass slower. Imagine now the same thing, but the other way around. You are the observer and your world is traveling away from you."

"Why are you experimenting on me?"

"We are not experimenting on you. We need you."

"Me? I'm not buying this! I'm nobody. I'm the most ordinary person."

"On the contrary. You are unique and you have been selected as a result of countless simulations, calculations and measurements. "

"No kidding... Measurements of what?"

"Of the parallel universes you had created, of course."

"And how many parallel universes have I created so far?"

"Very few. The fewest we have been able to identify by observing billions of human beings. That's why you've been selected. "

Sophia started rubbing her eyebrows with her hands.

"OK, easy, I know it can be hard to accept. But it should be easier for you because you have all this knowledge. Actually, you weren't far away from discovering the truth. But we're running out of time and energy blasts, so we had to bring you here. This kind of shock would be unbearable for the majority, but we've decided to take a risk with you. Because of your knowledge. We thought you will understand."

"Understand... what?"

"Have a look at these diagrams..."

Laah Ny touched another cubicle and Sophia saw indeed two diagrams.

"What do you see?"

"Two different solar systems."

"Well, you're not far from the truth."

In both pictures, there was a central point, surrounded by circular orbits. In the first diagram, Sophia noticed a detail that captured her attention. The more an orbit was farther away from the central point, the more planets it had. The most distant orbit had so many planets, that they were almost touching each other. The second picture was similar, but the orbits surrounding the central point had only a few planets, maybe two or three.

"This is your universe", Laah Ny said pointing to the first picture.

"It can not be true, we don't have so many planets in our solar system."

"These dots are not planets. They are universes. You have here, in the middle, the initial point of your universe creation. And these orbits are probabilistic waves. Your multi-verse expands through the time-space continuum. With every new probabilistic wave, you, humans, have created new parallel universes."

"Then, I should see an infinite number of dots. But it doesn't look like an infinite number."

"No, it isn't an infinite number, but there are too many already."

"If any probability created multiple states, then we should have an infinite number."

"Not each possible choice of every single human being has the power to create a parallel universe and you should understand that. From a larger point of view, you humans with your individual consciousnesses are nothing more than particles. And the totality of the particles in a living state creates a universe. Therefore, a new parallel universe can occur only when a sum of the probabilistic existences of the component particles in one state or another is big enough. When someone has to make a decision and he has three probable ways in front of him, the only thing that matters is the probability percentage."

"The percentage?"

"Yes. If the three possibilities are equal, then he'll probably create three parallel universes. But this is true only when the sum of probabilistic choices percentages of the other particles from his world is big enough. When he has, for example, 80% chance to choose one way, the probability of the appearance of two other universes decreases significantly. A parallel universe created by a sum of small percentages of probable choices has no sustainability. That's why we chose you. Throughout your so-called ordinary existence, you didn't create premises for life-changing laws, for meaningful social makeovers or historical conflicts. And besides that, you have an outstanding feature. At any moment you had to make a decision, your determination in choosing one pathway was over 98%. This is remarkable beyond words and is true, of course, for your initial cycle, because you went a little bit crazy afterwards. Let me give you an example. Do you remember your husband 35th birthday? Of course you do. He insisted that you should drink a glass of champagne. It was your favorite brand. You refused because you had to drive. You had a fight, but you still didn't drink. According to our research, any other person would have had at least 2% chance to accept one glass. You had 0,08% chance. We ran some simulations then. If you had accepted that drink, you wouldn't have been able to avoid that cyclist in the last second and you would have ended up in prison. And later, dead. But this universe had never occurred because you had reduced significantly the sum of probabilities."

"And why did you send me back to my 16 years old age? And why do I remember everything? And what happens with dead people? And..."

"OK, I will answer all your questions. The first one: we've sent you back to 16, because, from our calculations, this was the best moment to begin the cohesion process. It was the time when your existence was present in all the parallel universes. And you remember everything because you have an excellent memory, that's why."

"I thought I had hyperthymesia."

"No, you didn't think that, because you're perfectly capable of identifying correctly a disease like that. The only thing is that the regression accentuates your memory capabilities. And what was the third question? Oh yes, the dead people. Well, they're just dead. They no longer exist in some universes. Actually, this was the only reason why a collision had not yet occurred."

"A collision?"

"Yes, some parallel universes may fade and eventually disappear. Even though the sum of probabilistic states is big enough to materialize a new universe, this universe will fade and disappear eventually when each individual probability is low. The threshold percentage is around 25. But this isn't the essential thing. What matters now is that we are on a collision trajectory. You see, our multi-verse expands as well and we are on a collision trajectory with yours. Because you have created so many parallel universes, the collision is imminent. Our following probabilistic wave will intersect yours and there will be no more space to go among your universes. That's why we had to bend the current probabilistic wave. See?"

The extraterrestrial male touched the first diagram and the most distant orbit bent, forming a deep curvature, until one dot touched another on a different orbit.

"Is that your world?" Sophia asked while pointing to the second diagram. "Why do you have so few universes?"

"Your species is the last one in the known and mapped space-time continuum that doesn't understand yet the existence of parallel universes. Well, you are close to discover that, but we're running out of time."

"The last one?"

"Yes. All the other civilizations became aware of this risk of collisions thousands of years ago. And each one reduced at a minimum the probability of creating parallel universes."

"How?"

"By limiting the free will, of course. Either by mental practice or by predetermined choices imposed by their societies. And the ones that were less evolved, like mankind, were guided to another initial point by conducting a cohesion of all the existing universes. But let's get down to business. You are here because you didn't stick to your resolution. You should have relived your 24 years cycle by making the same identical choices. This would have generated the cohesion of all the parallel universes in one."

"How?"

"By recreating the same path in a conscious mode, you would have reduced to zero the probability that the particles existed in simultaneous states. You would have unbalanced the equations. A parallel universe can not occur when the threshold sum is not reached. Practically, you would have dragged the other universes into a single one."

"And that would mean the end of our world?"

"On the contrary. By merging the universes, the particles will continue their existence. And it will be your favorite universe."

"And the collision with your world?"

"That will probably be the end of both species. A collision of that magnitude has never existed; or at least that shows our records of 0,5 million years. But our simulations have demonstrated an unendurable impact. We can not afford that risk. Even if a blast doesn't occur, a collision will be unbearable for both worlds. Yours will never cope with an encounter with us and our world will probably be destroyed as well. You can not afford that risk either and it's in your power to save two species from extinction. And our both species will be able to continue our journey in the space-time continuum."

"And the new unique universe created after the cohesion? Will it expand again in multiple versions?"

"No. Because this is where you intervene. You will be granted with the knowledge and mind power to begin the training. You will possess the capability to influence your fellow's minds and you will establish the inception of the new limited free will society. If you looked at our history – and we'll provide you with our records to help you avoid our mistakes – you would observe that we have no more wars, pollution and tear down. A predetermined path would never include self-destruction premises. You'll have no longer an ordinary existence, but a truly earth-shattering one. After your mind will have received all the information, you will know that I'm telling the truth. We are capable and ready for this transfer. But you have to make the same choices and then you will start the program. We can not afford to send you back again, because we've almost exhausted our energy blasts units for the regressions. After this last flexion, the collision will be imminent if you don't respect the plan. We have no more time to run other simulations in order to find someone else and to create new energy blast units. And you'll be responsible for the probable extinction of two species. So... shall we begin?"

"You gave me no other option, right?"

"Indeed. I sense that you're telling me the truth and you'll commit entirely to saving your species. And mine, as well. Thank you. Thank you so much, Sophia. Our species thank you and yours will thank you as well when they'll have realized what you'll have done for them. You are ready indeed. We're initiating the transfer in a few moments."

"Aren't you gonna sedate me or something?"

"Not at all. We have been perfecting this process for millenniums."

***

Sophia felt and almost saw how her brain structure was changing while receiving the information. She didn't need to pinch her hand any more. Now she knew that everything was true. She could sense that. She could sense anything, even a strange, but real, almost tangible connection with Laah Ny. He was supervising her; she had no doubt about that. She knew everything and she understood everything. Her newly acquired capabilities have proved to be real from the first human contacts after the regression. She could visualize the probabilities in her mind and she could influence other people's choices in a flash. The first years have passed by like minutes. She didn't care anymore about the details. Rex had accompanied her until his death, because she knew that, by taking him with her, there was no danger. Her plan was simple. She could now identify the exact moments in her life when the probabilities had emerged in higher percentages. She trembled when she realized how risky two of these turning points really were, because the chances of not being with Andrew any longer were multiplying exponentially by taking a different pathway. The probabilities that new universes materialize were higher after her 25th anniversary. I have to be really careful and to do the math precisely. A single mistake could be fatal! If my calculations were right, I would reduce the number of universes with 35 percentages by my 33rd anniversary. It's a good percentage... I'm sure you like it, Laah Ny. She could never forget or overlook her 33rd birthday. She and Andrew had had a huge fight and he had asked her to take a break. The probabilities were then 60 and 40 percentages. 40 percentages... more than enough to create a new universe; probably the last and most important turning point according to her calculations. 40 percentages probability to accept the break. The break could mean a possible and definitive rupture of their relationship. But she had insisted and then convinced him to stay together and three months afterwards, they were getting married. The fight began as expected and escalated quickly. _Everything is going well...,_ she thought. She remembered every word she had said to make him stay. Every single world. She could feel her heart beating, punching her chest from inside, like a pneumatic hammer. She watched the clock. One more minute.

"Sophia, I can't go any further right now. I think we should take a break. Do you agree to take a break?"

Laah Ny, you're probably the more evolved species, but you didn't manage to understand the human mind. It wasn't so hard to convince you... with all your telepathic powers and mind-reading devices. 25 years of meditation training have proved worthy after all. Until now, I've wanted and accomplished a significant subtraction of the collision risk percentage. And I've wanted a few more years with him. But I can not take away Andrew's most important thing for him. I hope you're watching this. And we'll figure out the future when the time comes!

"Yes, Andrew, I agree."

The end

About me

I am a graduate of Medicine and passionate about science in all its forms. I believe that our greatest challenge is to understand our human nature, its strength and its weakness. And I like to believe that, by tolerating and embracing our flaws and fragility, we can master our life and make this world a better place, together.

Feel free to contact me: veronicapreda78@gmail.com

# Spider Skies

by Ștefana Diaconu

Stains of sunshine were peering through the lace of leaves above, and it would have been almost serene, had it not been for the two voices breaking the silence.

"I thought I told you not to take that road?!" the first voice, a very high and obnoxious one yelled and sent some birds away.

"Well, I'm sorry, in case you forgot, we have no map." The other said, surprisingly calm the apparent situation.

Caaro sat straight on her branch, careful so none of her legs didn't disrupt the leaves and attract more attention. She didn't recognise the voices and other tribes didn't really pass this territory.

"And who's fault is that?!"

The other growled. "I told you that I was sorry, Nathan, what else do you want me to do?" Caaro sneered _. Nathan. That's a human name_. Her guts rumbled and her throat soured in disgust at the thought _. I should probably tell the guards. They'll want to stop them from getting to far_. She shook her head. She really didn't want to go to the guards, but it was her duty.

"I don't know, find the fucking temple, so we can get out of this stinking jungle!"

The girl froze. _The temple? Could they be talking about the Arche_? Well, it made sense, that was the only temple on a thousand kilometre radius after all. This was getting interesting. _The guard can wait_ she thought as she stabbed two of her hooks into the bark and leaned over the edge of the branch. This was getting interesting.

"Well, you know I can't. the last human who could was alive a little over fifty years ago. So, unless your plan to stumble over one of the eldest monuments in living memory, please, come up with something!"

So they are going to the temple. Caaro's mind raced around the possibilities. _If I find a Relic, it will all be forgiven._ Her hope was born before being severely crushed. _But you'd have to ally with humans._ Her tongue still soured at the thought, but she was already set on the idea of regaining her status. _But no one has to know_! The temple was a few days away and she could be back in less than a week. It would all be forgiven. _But still..... humans_! Her voice of reason tried to argue, but the girl silenced it before it could make another sound. She had a plan, she had a purpose, she was going to make this work.

So, with a grin splitting her face, she jumped from her tree.

~O~

Nathan had, in one word, a shitty day. There was no other way to call the ultimate clusterfuck that had been happening since this gods damned mission had begun. First, they had to find a party that was going in this direction and strike a contract with the snakes. Then, the two men had to make sure they wouldn't be gutted in their sleep and have their goods stolen over the night. Then, Kato, the stupid wall behind him just had to lose the map and the whole fucking crew in the jaws of a killed snake.

Yeah. A pretty shitty day. Well, at least the mass of muscle behind him had the decency to be ashamed. Nathen stomped forward, trying to leave the other behind, but, since he barely reached the giant's chest, it was pretty hard. The man threaded his hair, staring at the sandy strands left between his fingers. Great, he was starting to lose his hair now. When will the world finally give him a break?

"How will we ever get to the temple?!" he yelled into the void, because, really now, it was the only one who wouldn't bother to argue back.

"Well, I might be able to help" said a voice not made for human throat, and both men jumped and turned around. Nathen lifted his head to the skies, wondering if the void has suddenly gotten fed up with his bullshit.

"My eyes are up here"

He looked into the – _what the fuck?_

In front of him was something that could generously be related to a human. If you squint. Long, lanky limbs and torso. White skin, dark hair and two god forsaken appendices sprouting from the back area.

Spider.

He curled his lips in disgust and held the sword higher.

The creature in front of him only waved a hand, fanged grin wide and patronising. On the pale, horrifying human face, eight eyes blinked at once. Two were big, much like human ones, while three others trailed along the arcade. They were all black. Completely black, no white or soul behind those depths. The mouth was full with sharp teeth. Next, he moved to the other two and the most prominent difference: the other two legs. They were long and hooked at the ends, capable of climbing and slicing enemies. The rest of the body was human enough. Flat chest covered in short fur, animal hide wrapped around the middle. The limbs were normal enough, until you got to the end. Both palms and legs had four fingers, similar in shape to a reptile, but covered in fur and ended in talons. All the hair on the creature was black, from the thin fur to the spiky mess on the head.

The creature lifted a hand. "There's no need for that. I come in peace."

"Peace?!" he yelled. "Your kind has no notion of peace!"

"Sais the guy with the weapon pointed at the unarmed opponent." The Spider deadpanned. Nathan _Tsk_ -ed. "Really now, I have a proposition for you."

"We make no deals with your kind!" he sneered.

"Really?" it smiled, in the mad glee of someone who knew the chaos to come and was just too happy to see it unfold. "Cause, to me, you seem to be pretty lost in hostile territory, with someone who could call the other people and kill you filthy humans for trespassing" the look darkened, yet it held no less challenge than it did before. "I suggest you chose your words wisely, Human. You know nothing of what lurks in the shadows, and it would be quite tragic for you to find out the hard way."

Nathan clicked his tongue and wanted to yell, but Kato placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's hear her out."

_Her? how the fuck did you tell the gender?!_ But he did shut up nonetheless. The creature cleared its throat.

"As I was saying, you need a guide through this jungle. I can show you the way. In return, I need you to get me past the traps, so I could recover something from that place. Quite simple, don't you think?"

"Why should we trust you?" Kato asked. The other smiled as sweetly as someone could with so many teeth.

"Trust my greed."

~O~

Nathan was ready to give up the mission the quest, the glory, the reputation, anything that he could if it meant he didn't have to spend another second near the bratty asshole that was their guide. Really now, for someone claiming to come in peace, it (ok, fine Kato, _she_ ) seemed to make any effort humanly (spiderly?) possible to annoy the fuck out of him. He couldn't really open his mouth anymore, lest he was snarked at back. And, more than that, Kato was taking her side. Really now, they were supposed to be partners, friends, so why the fuck was he helping _her_?!

"Ok" she said one day, looking at the sun. "I think we have a few more days, like two till we make it." she looked at them with the wry smile she seemed to show a lot lately these days. "That is if your fragile, human feet can keep up"

Nathan gritted his teeth. "You don't seem all that strong either. And, from what I've seen, you didn't walk even a mile." It was true, the girl had jumped from tree to tree, which had given her an unfair advantage, since her other legs were long and strong and seemed to be able to carry her pretty well and long distances. Every meter coated the bark on the trees in even more scratches that were widely known as spider marks.

The girl only grinned. He hated it. "Well, I still got farther than you."

"Look here, you little brat" Nathan started, but was stopped when Kato placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little harder than necessary. "What? She started it!"

The man leaned closer and whispered into his ear. "Don't antagonise her. She is a Spider. You are a human. Be better. And, if that somehow doesn't convince you, remember that she is out way out."

Nathen grinded his teeth in frustration and looked away. He could feel her sickly sweet smile on the back of his neck.

Shadows grew and darkened and the earth slowly swallowed the one ray of hope and positivity in the day. They decided to make a fire and they all sat near the flames. "So" the girl said "What do we eat?" Nathen blinked and looked at his friend. "Oh, right, I forgot that you lost your packages." The shadows made her smile even creepier.

"I don't see you getting any food." He said lowly. Near him, Kato sighed and murmured something about not being a babysitter.

"Oh, please, I can bring food, I just doubt that your puny, human stomachs can digest it." she was doing it on purpose. Nathan was sure she was doing this for the sole purpose of making him crack. He thought longingly about the sword at his hip. No, it wouldn't work, Kato would stop him. Stupid giant with his stupid muscles and his stupid peace treaty.

"Then why don't you go and get some for yourself?" the bear said. "It's no point that all of us starve"

"Suit yourself" she shrugged and walked into the woods. Kato waited a few minutes to make sure that she was gone before he whacked his friend over the head.

"What the fuck was that for?!" Nathen shrieked.

"Stop antagonising her!" he said in a low tone.

"She started it!"

"Oh, god, you sound like a five year old!" the man sat up and grabbed his friend by the collar. Had it been any other person, Nathan would have probably fought back, but this was Kato's way of looking people in the eye. "Can't you see: she's toying with you! Stop letting your emotions rule your behaviour! We don't know her intentions and you're literally giving her the means to manipulate you. This isn't another hunter you can just start a fight with and punch your way out of. This is a mother-fricking Spider, and we might die if she suddenly decide she doesn't need us. So, swallow your stupid pride and let's get this over with. Understood?"

"Understood" he mumbled and his friend let him down. They sat back around the fire in a tense silence until a dragging sound broke it. Looking up, they saw the spider coming near the fire, a small deer leaving a trail of blood behind her behind her. She then unceremoniously sat down and started munching on a foot. Both men looked at the deer for a few seconds before Kato pulled out his knife and gutted the thing. Half an hour later, they had an improvised roaster and, two hours later the rest of the deer. Caaro had looked at them curiously while they were cooking it.

"What did you do with it?"

"We cooked it"

"Why?" she tilted her head, like she was honestly confused. If her chin would have been clear of blood, she would've been almost cute. Kato was the one to respond.

"If we cook it, it is easier for us humans to digest. It also tastes better than raw meat"

She blinked and hell if that wasn't creepy. Kato sighed, took the last leg and stretched it in her direction. Her long talons stretched and picked a strip, then she pulled it back almost gently, looking at how easy it unrolled from the bone.

Caaro munched on the thing thoughtfully for a few seconds before swallowing. "It's not.... Bad" she said, like she was still trying to come to terms with the realisation that not everything human was shit. She picked another one and they spent the rest of the night in silence.

Kato was the one who stood guard, and Caaro, Nathan observed, wasn't really all that worried about that. For someone in company of hostile people, she was way too relaxed. That meant that she was either stupid (thing he begrudgingly admitted wasn't true), trusting (yeah... no) or just that confident that small, pretty little humans won't be able to lift a finger to hurt her. Which annoyed him to no end.

That's why, when it was his turn to stand guard, he acted. He really had no ill intent, surprisingly. Yes, he was stubborn, but damn, he wasn't stupid. He understood the value of allies and how much they could change in the great scheme of things. He just didn't like her, that's all.

The girl was laid on her belly, the two spider feet springing out of her back relaxed and propped on the ground. Nathan got closer and studied them. They were cracked at the middle, yet still somehow held together. They were hideous, masses of furry darkness, tentacles ready to drag you into hell.

The young man reached a hand to tough them, to feel the silky fur under his fingers.

"Do you like that hand?" came the rasped, tired tone of the creature, yet somehow impossibly awake.

"What?!" he pulled back, tripped and fell on his butt.

"That hand" she said, head not turned towards him. "Do you like it? I can get rid of it if you can't keep it where it belongs."

Nathan gritted his teeth and strolled back where he came from. "Fuck you!" He mumbled and threw himself near the sleeping body of his friend. He remained awake until the next morning.

Said next morning was tiring and, honestly, a pain in the ass. Why, because the god damned curse was too tired to move (What the fuck? She was the only one who had had a full night sleep?!) so, his friend, instead of doing the sensible thing and yelling at her to move, he just sighed and resigned in giving her a piggy back ride. First of all: why?! I mean, yes, Kato was freakishly strong and the creature didn't seem to really pack that much weight to begin with, but holy fucking hell, why did he have to give in to her whims? And it wasn't like she was even trying to charm him or anything. No, she was just complaining and didn't shut up and _uggggh_. Wait maybe that was the reason he accepted. To make her shut the fuck up. Yeah, that made sense.

Nathen sighed, shook his head and kept walking. They were now hiking up a mountain and, unless he was mistaken, he doubted that the girl could climb the rocks with those feet of hers. They looked more inclined for climbing trees. Anyway, the sun was up in the sky, the birds were singing, and the straw blonde would have given anything to have a good enough aim to shut them up. but he had a suspicion one of his companions would try to stop him. What a pain.

They had finally reached the woods on top of the mountain again, so the girl finally extracted herself from her comfy place on the bear's back and stretched her limbs. "Oh, well" she said before promptly climbing a tree and jumping forward. "You assholes coming or what?!"

Nathan threw his hands towards Kato as if showing "See, see?!" but the traitor just shook his head and walked after the girl, with the blond trotting behind him and throwing curses to the wind. This was probably the reason none of the humans noticed the roped web until it literally fell over their heads.

"Well, well, well, it looks like we caught some rats" came a voice he had learned to hate in the little time he had spent in its presence. Nathan looked up and growled at the tall redhead.

Connor was a man in his forties, a bounty hunter and an asshole. They had been forced to work together before, and Nathen would rather drown himself than have to repeat the experience. But, since they were currently captured and the hatred between them seemed to be mutual, the blond realised how little of a possibility that was.

"Hell, there, you vicious snake!" Kato started, taking attention off the fuming blond to his right. "Mind taking this off of us?"

"Hmmm" the man pretended to consider before he shrugged and shook his head. "Now why would I do that? You're both here, and that means you're both after the temple. Why would I risk sharing the money?"

"Come on, now, Connor, be a man and let us go!" Kato's patient tone was starting to lower into a growl, one that came from deep within his throat and usually warned people to stay the fuck away. But Connor, outside being an arrogant bastard, was also a smart one who knew that, releasing the human wall was the least pleasant alternative this night could take.

"Nah. You two, on the rare occasions we actually met have been such a pain" he rubbed his temples "Really now, you're being nuisances right now, falling all over my mission and ruining my camp. No, I don't think I'll let you go just yet. Maybe when we return. Or, who knows, I might find a slave trader to free me of the chore" the last part was said with a sly smirk as he strolled away in a holy choir of Nathan's compulsive cursing.

~O~

_Wow, these guys really are idiots_ Caaro thought from the branch she was perched on. _Though, they are human, so it's understandable_. Really now, humans were so weird. Like, she had been hanging in the same tree for a few hours and none of the ones below noticed her _. Such fools, truly, bumbling stumbling fools._

_But they are the fools I need right now_ , she grumbly accepted as she sighed and looked down to make sure none of the hostile ones could spot her and make this more complicated. They were still in sight so she decided to wait and thought about the last few days. It had barely been one, but she was starting to miss her home. Caaro missed her friends and the elders and....

Like they'd want you back right now.

She shook her head and sighed. True, there was no going back, at least not empty handed. When she left, they had been so mad at her, she needed some divine intervention to make it right again.

Well, look at this, the last human guard had went to sleep. She waited a few more minutes before she gracefully left the tree and landed in front of the web. "Wow, you can't survive five minutes without me, can you?"

The blond one-Nathan- jerked away and looked at the girl. "Where were you?"

"Hanging around, waiting for them to fall asleep so I can put in practice your grand escape."

Nathan opened his mouth, but Kato was the one to speak. "Why did you come back?"

"Have you forgotten that I still need you?" she tsk-ed and severed the ropes holding them hostage. Caaro looked around, listening closely for every sound that might betray some of the enemy being awake. They weren't. "Let's leave"

"Wait!" Nathen said before he turned around and left. Caaro was ready to call after him, but he returned a second alter carrying tow backpacks, handing one of them to Kato. "Food" was all he said before strolling out of the woods. Kato sighed and shook his head before following him. The girl just shrugged and climbed the tree.

Morning found them walking and munching on the stolen goods. Caaro was starting to appreciate the human race for the sweet little things they could make. Sugar, they called it. It wasn't as sweet as honey, but it was good. Nathan was not as big of a shit as he had been the day before, which was certainly a plus and a minus, since now she felt bad for teasing him.

The girl stepped into a clearing and showed them the tall pyramid shadowed by the trees. "We're here!" this pace was ancient and sacred. Spiders didn't really pass this place, the clear barks proof enough of that.

"Well that was fast!" Kati said as he looked at the tall thing. "On the map, the shortest time was of a week in the least."

"Yeah, well, I know the ways of the woods" she smiled her sickly sweet smile and looked at the structure. "So, can we get this over with?"

They nodded and that was probably their first mistake. Confidence. To get in was easy. To get out, not so much.

The first room they saw was a huge one with a lot of jewels and relics everywhere in sight. Caaro looked around, but followed the men farther into the temple. The deeper they got, the shinier things became and the worst the lighting. The air was eerie, filled with waiting and contemplation. It didn't take long for them to find what they were looking for. The boys started filling their bags with jewels from one side of the room while Caaro from the other. For some weird reason, all relics were jewellery, no sacrificial dagger or anything. The girl shrugged and started filling her arms and neck with necklaces and bracelets.

They were there for about an hour before everything went to hell.

Caaro didn't know what triggered it. It might have been a stray rock, the temple being way too old, a breath out of place. Or maybe it wasn't even a trap, but a curse, a last exhale from the mountain of bricks when it decided that enough was enough and that it couldn't do this anymore.

But in one moment, one delicate moment, the flor cracked, the ceiling collapsed and the all fell to the ground.

~O~

Nathan woke up hanging off of someone holding him in a very uncomfortable way. His eyelids cracked open and he looked around. He was met with something flat and furry, only to look up and realise that it was the spider.

Caaro was unconscious, hands wrapped tightly around him, spider legs stretched over the rocks, with hooks clamped around what used to be a temple. There was a small stream of blood trickling down her temple.

Nathan blinked once again. Kato, Kato, where it Kato?

He tried to move, but the rubble moved with him. He looked to the right and saw an exit. He might make it. Nathan wrapped his hands back around her and, with one kick, he launched them both out of the air. They spun and her legs flailed, but they managed to land more or less unharmed.

Nathan sat panting on the ground as he stared at the ceiling. He could feel Caaro's faint breathing. _Kato, where are you?_

Then, like a stream turned waterfall, the memories returned in one big blow that knocked him back. He sat on the floor, heaving, eyes wide staring at a scene he would never get to see again outside the realm of his mind _. Big, bulky hands grasping the stones, floor creaking, screams and pain._

His friend pushing him off the ledge before it collapsed.

Hands wrapping around him then then bump and bump until it stopped.

He looked at the girl unconscious near him. _Kato...._

Her chest rose and fell in ragged beats. _He's dead..._

Really now, she was alive _. He's not...._

I should leave her here. He could kill her without any problems. It wasn't like she was going to be a problem. _She's a spider._

She saved your life.

Kato wouldn't let her die.

He took a deep breath and caught her by the middle. He dragged her unconscious body on the floor, legs bending on awkward shapes as they hit the ground. At some point, he remembers carrying her on his back. He doesn't remember much else, everything was blurry, his feet pushing forward on autopilot. The jewels on her arms and in his pockets shimmered like bells and Nathan couldn't stop but think that they were a death omen.

At some point, the girl woke up. She demanded to be let down. Nathan ignored her and, by the fact that she didn't fight back, she wasn't strong enough to walk on her own.

They made it outside. The sun was too bright, like an ultimatum. Caaro was happy that they were alive. She leaned on the grass and stared at the sky, the stars shining in the forest air, with no other lights to cover them, Nathan collapsed near her, staring at the same skies him and Kato used to search every night since they were kids.

In the morning, there were no stars left and the marks of a spider in the trees.

#  Nebula13

by Diana Dumitrescu

Taste came first. The tang of air filtered then breathed than filtered again. It tasted like metal and, faintly, blueberries.

Feeling came next with the newfound awareness that she was lying down on her back, and that her finger tips were brushing against something rough.

Finally came sight, featureless colors resolving themselves into shapes and textures and, finally objects.

Rayri woke up lying on worn-down carpeting with her head underneath a chair.

She groaned and used her legs and elbows to crawl out from underneath the seat, mentally cataloguing all the little bruises and hurts, trying to figure out which were worth her attention. The throbbing in her head came first as she felt gently around the edges of a forming bump.

"My name," she started, paying close attention to any shuttering that might occur "is Rayri Li'ten, I was born on Thetha-12, I am 23 years old, I am a class three, terrestrial type modified human, my favorite food is pasta. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. "

No shuttering, clear sight and memories so probably no concussion then. But hearing her own voice made her notice that sounds on her left side were dimmer, as through herd through ear-plugs.

No concussion but potential hearing loss then. Worse than she would've liked but better than it could've been.

She got up testing her sense of balance; she felt slightly wonky, as if she'd just gotten off a merry-go –round but she could stand, and, making a few steps forward she felt optimistic about the prospect of staying upright.

The doors had been left open which was to be expected, considering what she remembered about the stampede of panicked passengers that security had had to herd away.

Which, of course, raised the question- _where_ had the rest been herded to? The most logical answer was the escape pods area so, following the trail of ripped pieces of material and parts of the carpet that looked trampled upon, Rayri headed out.

~~oOo~~

There was, Il'len thought, something particularly embarrassing about stumbling when you had a tail, _specifically_ meant for balancing one out. Never mind that he was, in all likelihood, the only person left on the ship- it was the principle of the matter that counted. He could almost hear Lu'ten sniggering; or he would have if the sound of blood rushing in his ears hadn't become deafening the moment he'd realized he'd almost fallen right on top of his package.

He'd scrambled to sit back down and get his rifle off his back that he almost dropped the case a second time; which helped precisely zero with the panic he could feel building in his chest.

Sitting on the floor, directly under one of the remaining functioning lights in the hall he spent nearly five minutes trying judge both any damage that might have occurred and if it was worth opening something he didn't know how to close just to check if the contents were safe.

In the end he decided that, since none of the clasps had come undone and the exterior was unscratched, there was a good enough chance that the contents were still intact so the case remained closed and he could breathe a little easier knowing that he wouldn't have to figure out how to re-build a magnetic mini-safe on top of getting to a functional terminal to send a distress signal.

He was, in fact, so focused on breathing to get his panic under control that he didn't notice the sounds of footsteps and fabrics brushing together until they were nearly on top of him; Seventy meters, at most, if his hunch was right.

Seventy meters and getting closer by the second.

~~oOo~~

The road to the escape pods was much longer than she would've expected. And, actually, it seemed thoughtfully impractical to have just _one_ hub of escape pods. Six hubs would serve much better, Rayri thought as she moved through the corridors, pausing every so often to make sure there were enough signs of panicked humans passing through to tell her she was on the right track and to check her turns against her mental map of the ship.

She was approaching another bend into one of the poorer lit corridors when she saw it; the tiniest movement that, in any other circumstance could've been just the carpeting shifting. Except whatever had moved was a much darker shade than the carpet.

For Rayri slipping into her danger reflexes was as easy as breathing. Her claws came half out her legs tensed and she hunched slightly to be as silent as possible.

She approached carefully hands hovering over the gun holsters, but not drawing them out. It might well be a civilian. Someone who had nothing to do with this; if they weren't involved it would be rude to shoot them in the leg just because her finger slipped on a trigger.

But what were the chances, really?

~~oOo~~

There's another agent on the ship.

(And they are an agent, because what civilian would even _think_ of carrying an honest-to-god _rifle_ around on a three day voyage to a beach resort, never mind how they'd get it past the security checks)

Rayri can't see them well, partly because of the bloody rifle they're aiming at her, partly because of the mask that covers their lower jaw. The bits that she can see are black eyes and hair, and, from the corner of her eye, _something_ swishing gently behind them; but she's not about to look away from the _rifle_ less than forty centimeters from her nose to check more closely.

Her eyes flit over their suit, trying to locate any specific insignias that might tell her who exactly she's dealing with here so she can adjust her strategy accordingly. There is, after all, a world of difference between running into a smuggler operation and running into an undercover officer of the USPF; or another private agent.

Then there's a sound and her eyes instantly fly to his hands only to realize the sound was them clearing their throat.

"So, uh, this is getting kind of uncomfortable?" they says, breaking the silence "S-so, if you could just-put down your guns, I'll put down my rifle, and we can-we can ignore each-other like civilized people?"

Their tone takes Rayri by surprise since it sounds more like they're a child negotiating at the playground than a trained agent. But their grip on the rifle is sure and their feet are in a proper stance and his eyes are focused so he's clearly trained, at least to some extent.

Must be a rookie, she realizes

Which is both good and bad news; good because they're probably easier to beat if need be, bad because they're more unpredictable.

She thinks about refusing their offer but they're right. It is kind of uncomfortable standing like this. Not to mention pointlessly time consuming.

"We both drop our weapons on the count of three?" she asks clicking the safety of her guns on

The other agent blinks a few times as if they can't quite believe she's agreeing before speaking again

"Uh yeah, good idea. Um... one?"

Definitely a rookie.

"Two," she says

"Three." They say together

~~oOo~~

Il'len's only saving graces when the intruder finally arrives are the fact that he'd already drawn his rifle and backed off a few meters.

The time between them rounding the corner and them drawing their weapons is so small it's nearly nonexistent and Il'len barely has time to aim his own rifle before he finds himself staring down the wrong end of twin gun barrels.

They stand like that, him with his rifle and them with their pistols aimed point-blank at each other, for a while.

For some reason he finds himself fascinated with the pistols. There are purple and gold decorations around the grip and the barrels themselves are a milky-white color and the sights are red, most likely for contrast. The design is practical but also strangely artful; these are more than just the standard issue weapons an USPF agent would carry or the guns every smuggler grunt has on hand- these are the, distinctive, custom made weapons of an experienced private agent.

Which probably means he's dealing with either a privateer, a bounty hunter or a corporations affiliated agent; except privateers tend to work in groups and there are no note-worthy criminals aboard the ship to interest a bounty-hunter who could afford weapons like those. So another corp it is.

Which is, if he's being honest, better than the alternatives; he's met both privateers and bounty-hunters before but he's not good at dealing with them. But a corp- a corp he can manage. A corp he can _understand_. Sure there's a significantly larger chance that they're here to sabotage his mission but he can deal with that. That's something he can see the logic behind.

It takes him a good while before he manages to convince himself that he won't get shot if he speaks and manages to get out a sentence.

"So, uh, this is getting kind of uncomfortable?" he says, breaking the silence "S-so, if you could just-put down your guns, I'll put down my rifle, and we can-we can ignore each-other like civilized people?"

In the silence following his declaration Il'len is pretty sure he could hear a sneeze on the other side of the spaceship and he wants to slap himself.

The other corp narrows her eyes for a second before speaking and- to Il'len's eternal surprise- agreeing.

Except... when the word three leaves his mouth he finds himself unable to quite let go of his rifle. He drops it with its barrel down but doesn't actually let go. He feels a sort of unnamed but all consuming anxiety surge up and it makes him hesitate.

Which is, in hindsight, fortunate as it seems the other corp has a similar problem- she too drops her arms at her sides but makes no further move to let go or holster her pistols.

They stand in silence for some five seconds before the other corp cracks a smile "Well, see," she says "Now we're both liars,"

It takes him a few seconds to think of an answer that won't make him sound like an idiot but he's pretty sure he manages.

"We're also in the same situation, so there's really no need to be hostile-"

"Isn't there?" the other corp interrupts "I have no idea what you're planning to do so I think it's a bit early to dish out judgments like that," she sais

Il'len can feel the tiniest spark of annoyance light admit the anxiety.

" _I_ am going to hail the nearest check-point so if I could just pass-" he sais

"...Hail a check-point eh? Sounds like a good plan." She gestures with a pistol "Lead the way,"

He wants to protest but he sees the dangerous glint in the other corps eye and, even if he could beat her to the draw again there's no guarantee that his charge would leave the fight undamaged and- and that's what matters here, really. His charge.

He nods once and, through doing it makes his heat-rate skyrocket, turns his back and starts walking.

~~oOo~~

The door in front of them was, according to the digital map in the communal hub, a service hallway to the next floor which would allow them to cut the distance between themselves and the main bridge in half and save precious time.

A good plan as far as spur of the moment plans went. Only one problem- the ship was in power saving mode. Which meant that all non essential functions, like service passageway doors or bright illumination, were turned off in favor of conserving electricity. Which meant having to watch the boy stand hunched over the small control panel next to the door try to fit two wires together in order to create a temporary surge of power strong enough to trick the doors into opening.

"Are you sure you can get that thing open?" Rayri asked

"For-for the fourth time- yes! I just need to fit the wires together properly and activate the emergency protocol; it's really not that hard." The boy didn't look at her when he answered but Rayri was willing to bet he was biting his tongue in frustration behind, what she assumed was, the air filtration mask.

"Then _why_ is it taking you ten minutes to do it?" Rayri hissed

She could almost _feel_ precious time slipping through her fingers as the rookie fumbled with the wires.

"Well that's- it's taking so long because usually, when I do this it's with systems I'm either familiar with or which are common. This one's neither so it's a bit more-" he was cut short by one of the wires that let out a angry spluttering of sparks and propped a mutter _fuck_ from the kid.

Rayri narrowed her eyes almost prepared to reconsider the terms of their bargain. This entire thing hinged on the kid who claimed he knew how to send a distress signal; Rayri herself knew next to nothing about sending distress signals from anything else other than street-screens and her personal console so she's taken his word for it. Yet here he was- struggling to get a goddamned _service door_ to open.

"I thought you said you know how to do this."

"I do."

"Mhm," Rayri says, unconvinced

A minute later another electrical hissing sounded, only, this time, it was greeted with a triumphant _Aha._

As she looked the door slip open smoothly revealing the long, poorly lit metal corridor beyond.

"Ha! Maybe you're not _that_ much of a rookie after all," she said as she moved towards the door.

"Wait!"

Rayri's head turns her head and sees him frowning at her from where he's crouched on the floor.

"You can't go yet- I have to tape these together so it won't just close once I let go,"

Rayri frowns, on the brink of pointing out that that doesn't mean _she_ can't go but decides against it. Instead she says nothing and just leans against the wall again, her eyes trained on the kid struggling to hold two wires in contact with one hand and plug one in back in its place with another.

He drops one of the wires.

The door whooshes closed before Rayri can so much as twitch toward it.

She turns to the kid who seems to be stuck staring at the open panel in disbelief.

"What. The hell. Was that?" she asks, enunciating every word as through she's talking to a toddler.

She can't see his face from behind the mask but she's pretty sure he's licking his lips.

" _That's_ why I had to tape it together."

"So open it again and _do_ that," Rayri says

"Well uh... here's the thing- I...may or may have not, accidentally initiated the uh...the cleaning protocol?"

It took a good chunk of Rayri's self control to not punch the boy then and there. Unfortunately no boy would mean no message which, in turn, would mean no mission and _that_ was simply unacceptable.

"So stop it and open the door," she said

"I can't. Once it gets activated it becomes controlled by the main-frame of the ship and the only way to access that in less than three days is from the main computer,"

"Wait- the ship doesn't have enough power to keep the doors open but has enough power to vacuum a corridor?" She asked narrowing her eyes

"Uhhhggg...not really, no. It's more like the ship _thinks_ it has enough power,"

"...The ship... _thinks_ ," Rayri repeated

"Ok so maybe I didn't phrase that quite right; it's more like the ships system receives updates and commands from a multitude of-" the kid began

"Stop," Rayri cut him off "I don't care. What is the shortest time in which you could get this thing open again?"

"Um... Two hours? Maybe? If we manage to find a plasma cutter?" the kid said

Deep breaths. Reayri reminded herself

One-In. Two-Out. Three-In. Four-Out

She can feel the dull ringing in her left ear becoming slightly louder.

Two hours. That was two hours longer than she was willing to spend on this goddamned door.

"We'll just take the long way around then," she said and turned on her heels not looking back to see if the kid followed

He did.

Of course he did.

~~oOo~~

Deep breaths, Il'len reminds himself

Breathing and heart rate are directly linked by their very functions. It is impossible to control one's heartbeat but controlling breathing can often have a significant impact on one's heart rate and so it's the next best thing.

Deep breaths help deliver more oxygen and thus encourage slower but more efficient heart beats, which, in turn, oxygenate the brain better helping to clear one's thoughts.

Clear thoughts mean more efficient problem solving, more controlled emotions and a lesser chance of missing some crucial detail, all of which are vital in missions.

Proper breathing, Il'len reminds himself, is the first step to that. Creating or focusing on a rhythmic action or sound often helps with regulating one's breathing.

A rhythmic sound isn't easy to come by in the silence of the corridor they've been walking through for ten minutes now. He tries using his companions steps initially but quickly finds that her steps are not quite even, probably due to the unique, bird-like, configuration of her legs and, most likely, hips which prompt her to make minute, unconscious adjustments to her gait every step. It's fascinating but not quite fascinating enough to help him forget about the tightness in his throat.

He tires synchronizing his breathing with his own steps next but it makes him slow which makes his companion hiss at him to stop dawdling and _move it, rookie!_

That particular attempt is actually the opposite of helpful, and it just ends up making the tightness around his chest grow.

In the silence he's left to contemplate his own stupidity. He should've taped the wires together immediately. He should've disabled all additional protocols before opening the door. He could've asked for his companion's help. He could've done so much better but he _didn't_ because he always fails, always trips over himself in his rush to show that he's _good at something_ that he _can_ do something useful but it always just ends up blowing in his face and-

Deep breaths.

~~oOo~~

They keep walking in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts but then she becomes aware of a swishing sound. Looking at the kid confirms her suspicion- his tail is twitching from side to side brushing against the floor every second, creating the swishing sound.

For some reason the sound grates on her nerves and, by the time they reach the next bend she has to say something.

" _Stop_ doing that." she says

The boy whips on her nearly knocking her feet out from under her with that infernal tail.

"Doing what?" he asks

" _That_ " she says pointing to his tail

"Oh- oh sorry, sorry." He says as his tail warps around a leg "I don't notice, usually when I do that."

He looks, Rayri thinks, somewhat like a kicked puppy and she feels a twinge of guilt. Not for telling him to control his tail, but for the way it came out. Modified humans were still, after all, only three generations old and while prejudice was dyeing down it was still an omnipresent thing in the air, like smog above mining and industrial planets. And it probably makes it even worse coming from someone so obviously unhuman too.

She's trying to figure out how to apologize when she sees him fiddling with the edges of his mask as if he wants to tug it off but can't quite bring himself to do it.

Well, after apologizing changing the subject seems like the best option so she focuses on that.

"You don't have to keep wearing that mask, you know? The air's breathable."

He blinks at her and lets his hands fall away.

"Yeah, I know it's just-" He takes a deep breath and tries again "I'm not really, not really comfortable and-" he breaks off to take another deep breath and one of his hands rises to rub at his chest. The boy seems to focus on breathing for a few seconds but than his breaths becomes faster and his other hand rises to tug at the mask again.

Rayri is by no means a health professional but even she's worked in the field long enough to recognize a panic attack when she sees one.

On one hand she has no idea what this boy's triggers are- on the other letting it play out carries the risk of him falling into hysteria and possibly becoming very disoriented and thus useless. She makes the decision quickly and approaches cautiously.

"Hey," she says

He whips on her and his eyes look uncomfortably wild and shiny like he's only a few seconds away from crying. Rayri struggles to remember his name, knowing that calling him kid right now might not be the best idea.

"Hey," she says again unable to quite remember his name "Look at me, look in my eyes," she continues trying to modulate her voice into some semblance of the firm softness her own psychologist uses to talk to her as well.

She grabs his hands, which were still hovering between his chest and his mask, lightly and squeezes his wrists reassuringly.

"What you're feeling now" she says slowly "is scary, but not dangerous. You are in no danger. You're going to be alright. It's going to be fine." His eyes seem a bit more focused now but his breaths are still shallow and quick.

"You need to breathe." She tells him maintaining the same tone "Breath in." she says and takes a breath waiting until he does the same "Than breathe out." She says exhaling loudly.

They do that together a few more times to limited success until something strikes Rayri.

"Do you want to take the mask off?" she asks

He makes a sound that sounds like yes and nods so she lets go of his hands. He fumbles with the clasps long enough that Rayri thinks she should offer to help but manages to get them open and lets the mask fall.

Rayri doesn't know what to expect so the fact that the boy seems to have a strange, pinkish scar cutting through his cheeks is perhaps less shocking than it would otherwise be.

Than the scar opens as the boy takes a shuddering breath.

Rayri is left to stare as the boy's face quite literally splits in two, allowing him to take proper deep breaths. It takes her a good five seconds to realize that the pinkish line running across his face isn't a scar.

It's lips.

It is, by all accounts a shocking and unsettling, realization but all Rayri can feel is a muted confusion and a sparking curiosity for such a strange mutation. The boy's mouth is obviously bigger than normal, which explains the size of his skull that Rayri has never considered until now. His head needs to be bigger to accommodate for the mutation and when he opens his mouth again to take another breath Rayri thinks she glimpses two rows of teeth.

They stand in silence for almost two minutes before the boy speaks again- and yup, those are definitely two rows of teeth there.

"Say something!" he almost screams, his voice sounding dangerously shrill

What is there to say, Rayri wonders. Cool mouth? Nice teeth? What the hell?

There's really no appropriate polite reaction to this sort of thing. Instead she says the only normal thing that comes to mind.

"Are you alright now?"

He stares at her for a few seconds before letting out a brief watery laugh that sounds more like a sob.

"I'm better," he says finally and takes another deep breath and reaching to redo the clasps to his mouth guard again.

"Don't," she stops him. To his questioning look she sighs "You need to be able to breathe properly if you don't want to fall into another attack again and somehow I doubt that thing," at this she gestures to the mask "is very efficient. Leave it off,"

He seems unsure for a few seconds before letting his hands fall to his sides "Ok," he whispers

And that's that. They start moving forwards again and the silence resumes, trough Rayri can't tell if it's more or less awkward than at the beginning.

~~oOo~~

Il'len didn't know that a person's mind could be simultaneously clear and distracted. But that is exactly what's happening right now.

His mind is no longer muddled by the panic and the what-ifs and the could've-s (at least no more so than usual) but he finds himself drifting forwards through a haze of confusion, instead.

He's not sure what reaction he was expecting from his companion but he's sure it wasn't that.

When she was staring at him with that perfectly blank look on her face Il'len's mind had almost descended into a gibberish mess expecting any number of nasty reactions form that blankness.

But she did none of that. Instead she seemed to completely gloss over his mutation and had simply asked if he was alright.

He still can't quite wrap his mind around it and it's making him feel slightly stupid which ,in turn, is making him slightly annoyed and that's- that's good, if he's being honest. Being annoyed is better than being scared. It's also rare- usually when he can't understand something it makes him anxious but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like that now. Which is ridiculous, considering he's on a broken down ship, tethering inches away from failing his mission, with his only ally being a semi-hostile corp agent who probably thinks he's incompetent and stupid twice over since he's managed to mess up twice in less than an hour-

Deep breaths.

That line of thought is going nowhere so Il'len decides to do what he usually does when he needs a distraction and focus on one of his logical puzzles. Today's puzzle is, of course, trying to guess what happened to the ship.

Whatever it was had to have been picked up by the security and diagnostic systems suddenly considering how security sprang into action, seemingly at the drop of a hat. Since they seemingly, removed the passengers from all areas of the ship it had to be something that had the potential to affect the entire ship. At least Il'len's pretty sure it's about the ship not the passengers, or more precisely not about organic matter in general, since neither him nor his companion seen to exhibit any symptoms of poisoning.

Whatever happened also messed up the ship's power-saving mode since Il'len's pretty sure that normal power mode keeps the elevators and service doors open. Which of course leads to the question of, if normal power saving mode is messed up what other systems might be on or off line? Lighting seems to work as well as ever, air and pressure are normal, gravity control seems-

"Rookie, what the fu-?!"

~~oOo~~

"Alright, I think I've got this," Rayri says throwing herself forwards

Moving in zero-g, no matter how much training one had, was always tricky. Moving any significant amount in any direction in zero-g without leverage crossed the line from tricky into hard. Moving in an organized way towards a specific target, then, becomes downright maddening. Not to mention rather stupid looking.

Yet that was exactly what she and the kid were reduced to as they struggled to swim through air towards one another. Of course, Rayri _has_ trained in Zero-G situations before. Still it feels slightly ridiculous to flail herself closer to the kid by inches.

Not for the first time she finds herself wishing that the one room with glitched out gravity control would have been a furnished one. Sure that would've increased the risk of an accidental collision based injury but at least it would have offered _some_ leverage; or at least something to shoot into to get some propulsion. As it stands, however, the room they've ended up in is a large hollow space, as impersonal as it can get and Rayri isn't about to start shooting bullets that have a good chance of bouncing back into some part of her or the kid.

Which is why they've spent the past ten-odd minutes flailing around and spitting (a useful, if slightly disgusting trick) in all directions to move closer to one another. Right now they're less than half a meter apart, close enough that if they can just stretch their arms...

Her fingers brush his and, with a final effort she manages to grasp his hand.

"Alright..." says Rayri maneuvering herself so that she's not upside down anymore "Now what?"

"Um... If you can get me across the room I might be able to do something," the kid says glancing backwards.

"What's on the other side of the room?" Rayri asks

"As best as I can see-the control panel, and probably the gravity switch,"

" _Is_ there a gravity switch?" Rayri asked

Looking over his shoulder she _could_ see a something outlines faintly in green at the other end of the room. But the small rectangle of light brings up another concern.

"How is turning that switch supposed to fix the problem?"

"Well, I assume that-I mean it was probably a power surge so- I mean, it's not certain so, so if you have any other ideas..."

Rayri opened her mouth to suggest getting out of the room, turning back and finding another way to the main frame. Except... finding, never mind going though, another route would take hours. There was also the fact that only one of them could get out by using the other as leverage. If she did get out what would she do? Go back to her old escape pod plan, most likely; escape pods of which there were, probably, none left. Even if she found a route to the escape pods _or_ the main frame there was no guaranteeing that it wouldn't contain another strange and deadly glitch.

"Not really no...Wait," she said as something struck her "the gravity stopped because of a glitch not a button- so, technically, isn't the gravity still 'on'?"

"...Well the first advice anyone gives when something's not working is always 'have you tried turning it off than on again' so I guess that's what we're stuck with." It was hard to shrug in zero g but the kid gave it his best shot

"Alright" Rayri narrowed her eyes as she considered her approach

"Do you-uh...have an idea? Cause you look like you have an idea,"

"Ok, turn around," Rayri said shifting slightly

"What? Why?" the kid asked, obviously worried

"Because I'm going to kick you," Rayri said

"You-you're going to _what_ now?" the way the kid's eyes budged would've been comical in any other situation

"You said I have to get you across the room. I don't think my arms are strong enough to do the job, so I'm going to kick you," Rayri said

The kid looked like he wanted to protest for a second but then he glanced at Rayri's legs, took a deep breath-and wow Rayri never noticed his tongue was forked- and nodded.

"Just-just try not to break by spine or anything, ok?" he said as he turned

"Try not to get a concussion." Rayri snorted "On three; One, two," she took a deep breath and positioned her leg "Three!"

The third law of motion dictates that every action has an equal and opposite reaction; which was exactly why, as the boy sailed towards the control panel, Rayri was propelled backwards, straight into a wall. Those were going to be some A+ bruises she thought as she did her best to maintain contact with the wall and thus her best chance of getting out if the kid didn't manage to turn the gravity back on.

It wasn't that she doubted his abilities, really; it was just that the maintenance corridor incident was still fresh in her mind.

As she watches the kid sails towards the panel (Rayri takes a second to congratulate herself for judging the strength of the kick perfectly) and- bounces off. Rayri's heart almost stops for a second but then the kid shifts in the air and _somehow_ manages to hook his tail around something she can't see from here and stabilize himself. Rayri lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

The kid does something and the panel's outline shifts from green to red as it comes off. He seems to be turning a button and- absolutely nothing changes.

Then he turns the button again and that's all the warning Rayri gets before she feels herself becoming heavier and heavier and dizzier as the blood gets dragged down to her legs until she collapses to the floor at the normal 9.8 meters per second. It's a small miracle that she manages not to sprain anything, really.

As she begins advancing he still seems to be fiddling with something inside the panel; she's about to ask what he's doing when the door at the other side of the room whooshes open long before she should be in range of the motion detectors.

When she arrives next to the kid she raises an amused eyebrow.

"The door was jammed," he whispers not taking his eyes off the wires

"Second time's a charm, I guess," she says clapping the kid on the shoulder as she exits

~~oOo~~

It's irrational and slightly silly but, as they walk down the (blessedly) finally flight of stairs to the command room, Il'len keeps glancing backwards. The door to that room is still slightly in sight if he cranes his neck and he feels his eyes drawn to it like a needle drawn north.

It was, really nothing spectacular. He's trained in zero-g scenarios before (once), and all he did, really, was turn a lever. It really shouldn't feel like some kind of major victory.

But it does.

His thoughts keep buzzing around in his head like fireworks and he feel strangely giddy, like when he just finished a successful simulation. He tries to get himself under control by focusing on the ship's puzzle again but remembering the gravity glitch makes a note of anxiety creep into his thoughts since now it's possible that the ship's software is somehow damaged which means there's a possibility they won't be able to send a distress signal which means- now it's really not the time for another panic attack so he veers away from that puzzle.

The only other immediate puzzle that he can focus on right now is figuring out what, exactly, is his companion's donor species. Some kind of bird, that's for sure but _what_ kind he's not sure. Or maybe she's one of those that are based off of a species but were modified to be adaptable to humans? It's hard to imagine the kind of kick he felt coming from a chicken but with a gigantism mutation it could be-

"-Emu," her voice rings out

"Wh-what?" he asks. Suddenly it occurs to him that she may have been talking for some time and he'd been too caught up in his own thoughts to notice it. "Can- I mean- I'm sorry I was a bit...distracted so if you could just-" he tries to say

"The legs," she says, and now she definitely sounds amused "They're based off of emus."

"Oh," it's all he can say as he has no idea what an emu is save that it's a flightless bird "So it _is_ a bird,"

She glances back at him a few times before speaking again

"So?" she asks

"So? What?" he replies puzzled. He's pretty sure he hasn't missed any thing again

"Well I told you mine- mind telling me yours?" she asks with a raised eyebrow

"Oh um... I'm not... One hundred percent sure, honestly- by species or percentage, my parents were always kinda vague about it,"

"Seriously, nobody bothered to tell you? Actually never mind that, you never bothered to look through your files?" she seems shocked by this and, ok when she puts it like that...

"My parents always said what I am isn't half as important as _who_ I am so It guess it never really came up that much-"

"...We are literally designed to be something; _what_ we are _is_ who we are how does that even-"

"A-actually I'm not...designed." He says, voice tapering off towards the end

"...Come again?" she says and now she's looking at him like he's got two heads and _this_ is why he doesn't really discuss it.

"I'm not- I mean my parents are- _my parents_. As in flesh and blood. As is not donors or something but actual- y'know." He says making vague motions with his hands

She blinks once, twice than a soft _oohh_ comes out of her mouth and she seems to be looking at him again like she's just seeing him for the first time; maybe she is.

He wants to put the mask on again but that would just be more embarrassing and, besides, it makes him feel like a coward. Naturals were rare of course but that didn't mean anything. It just meant that they were fortunate.

When most modified humans wanted to have children they just adopted- be it a normal child or petitioning for the care of another young modified human to be entrusted to them. They did that because the chance of a healthy child coming out of two humans genetically spliced with animal species was slim, at best.

But his parents had wanted to take that chance. And, with the help of modern technology, it had panned out into not just one but two children; two _very_ different but healthy children. There was a world of difference between him and Lu'ten; most people didn't believe when they said they were siblings.

Il'len supposed it was a bit hard to notice anything other than the person in front of you splitting their face in two when they spoke. But conceding and accepting something were entirely different matters.

His brother got to hear sounds outside of the human range, breathe in water and have the upper part of his body constantly protected by exquisitely gold scales. Il'len got to fit three whole, unsliced apples in his mouth and trip people up constantly with his tail- _what a deal._

Of course, all things considered he could've turned out much, much worse. The combinations were as good as endless and only a handful of them produced something that could live without catastrophic organ failure, even fewer still produced something that was even recognizable as a human, so in hind sight he knew that-

He felt his toes hit something and his whole body pitched forward before his tail and hands shot out to steady him.

He took a look back at the flight of stairs he'd almost tumbled down on. Alright so maybe a tail wasn't so bad after all.

When he looked up it was to see his companion regarding him with an amused look, from inside a room that could only be the command module.

~~oOo~~

The command module was smaller than Rayri would have expected. It was large, with two levels and a myriad of screen and consoles (all dark at the moment, save for the soft red emergency lights) but it was still somehow underwhelming.

Through, judging from...glowing galaxies, what _was_ his name? Il- Il'e? Il-something that was for sure.

Judging from his look it may as have been a treasure trove so maybe Rayri just wasn't smart enough to appreciate what she was seeing.

Il started to press buttons and open cupboards (because, apparently that was what the desks actually were- cupboards) and pull out wires and plug them in.

"You're good at this," she said after two minutes of watching the boy boot up various screens

"Thanks," he said, clearly too focused on his work to shutter

Rayri frowned. On one hand curiosity was eating at her, especially in light of the newest revelation. On the other poking around in his past really was none of her business. On the _other_ other hand...

"You're _good_ at this," she said again "At this whole technology thing. So why are you on a transport field-mission?"

Il doesn't stop plugging in wires or tapping at buttons, staying with his back to her but that's exactly what tips Rayri off that this is a sore spot; he's being much too deliberate to make sure she doesn't get a glimpse of his face and the way his head is inclined she can tell he's not watching the buttons but, most likely her reflection in the glass.

"It's just- it's just the family business," he said

Alright, now it definitely wasn't her job to bug in anymore. But the thought grated at her. The thought that his talent would be wasted in the dangerous line of work that was field mission rubbed her the wrong way.

He stays silent for long enough that Rayri begins to open her mouth to say something else but then Il presses and held down a button glowing orange and spoke.

"Apollo, Apollo, Apollo, check point Apollo, this is," at this he paused to glace at a screen "transport vessel Nebula13 hailing you, do you copy? I repeat this transport vessel Nebula13 hailing, do you copy?"

There's a minute of silence before there's a _ding_ and a voice answers.

"Nebula13, this is check point Apollo, we copy. Are you aware that you're using the SOS frequency?"

Il'len takes a deep shuddering breath and answers "Affirmative. I am not part of the crew of this vessel me and my companion are both stranded after being left behind by a general evacuation effort. We request that a vessel is sent to pick us up as soon as possible."

"How many of you are there?"

"Two,"

"Are either of you injured?"

"I'm not inured besides some light bruising." Il sais before turning to Rayri and handing her a small microphone

"I have some minor head trauma. I haven't experienced any symptoms save for dampened hearing in my left ear and some mild nausea," she says as clearly as she can

"Alright, you both confirm your identities, as well as you location, please."

"I am Il'len Terer, born on FK-665, 21 years old m-my identification is- is 223-480," Il'len says

There's a moment of silence before the person on the other side speaks up again.

"We have you; and the other?"

"I am Rayri Li'ten, I was born on Thetha-12, I am 23 years old, my identification is 876-900," Rayri says

"We have you. Where were you again?"

Il'len glances at the instruments before speaking "Quadrant 14 of the T-24 system."

"And on the ship?" the voice asks

"The command module," Rayri breaks in before Il'len can reply

"Alright, I think we've picked you up on the radars. Don't move, we'll be sending a pick-up vessel soon enough. Do you want me to stay on the line?"

Rayri and Il'len glance at each other before Rayri speaks "No, thank you but that won't be necessary."

"Alright then. Estimated arrival time is- one hour. Hang in there."

"You should move to a technical division," she said when the radio finally gives a second chime signaling the end of the connection "You're not cut out for field work, you'd do a lot better behind a computer than behind a gun,"

"I... I know. I was planning to. If this mission went well" at that he cast a pointed glance at the small container clipped to his belt "I was going to use that to request a transfer."

Rayri didn't even try to reassure him about the chances of success his mission had. She didn't know the conditions of success so any assurance she could offer would be empty. She focused on something else instead.

" _This_ mission? How many other have you been in?" she asked genuinely curious. Her personal bet was on either two or three.

Il stayed silent for a while, tapping away at buttons before he finally breathed out an answer.

"Twelve."

Rayri tried not to choke or laugh or do anything that would give way just how surprised she was. She really did. By Il's deep sigh she gathers that she didn't succeed

"I _know_ , alright? I'm really not cut out for this whole _questing_ nonsense, but... I don't know my mom's doing it and my dad's doing it and my brother's practically a pro already and it was...nice, not having to fuss over what my place in the universe was, y'know?"

She sighs once and nods, even though he can't see her

"I do, actually." He turns to her with his eyebrows raised and-well the corners of his mouth obviously can't turn downwards he seems to give it his best shot.

"You're conscripted?" he guesses and wow do his teeth move around when he speaks or is that just an optic illusion?

"Kinda yeah, but I stuck around cause I wanted to and cause-well like you said when you find a place and a thin you're good at it's hard to give it up,"

"You're good at this, huh?" he asks tapping away at a green button

"I am," she says and it's not bragging. It's fact- her record said so such. But it sounds like bragging an she feels she should soften it up somehow "But... it's really not as good as it sounds. I mean- succeeding is good, obviously, but after a while... It gets hollow." She doesn't know if she should say the next thing or not bur he's offered a lot about himself so it seems only fair "I was planning on getting a leave after this too. To- clear my head y'know? Maybe you should too."

Il'len doesn't say anything but he nods and Rayri'll take it.

T-H-E E-N-D

# The Search

by Ioana Iliescu

Margot was three when her birth mother had fled Ibsbergen, leaving her and her sisters behind. People used to talk when she was a child; sometimes, she heard the whisperings of neighbors. She did not understand the gossip; even so, it pricked like nettles on her child heart. Most whisperings were about her separated parents and the two distinct colors of Margot's eyes. Her mother was taboo, and asking about her would be met with silent frowns and the discard of her curiosity. Although it had never been forbidden, no one in her family ever mentioned her name or her disappearance - not even her sisters.

She closed her eyes in search of a memory. The last memory of her mother was from the day of her departure. With teardrops streaming down her face, she had leaned down to hand Margot a basket of raspberries. And then, in the bat of an eye, Margot's mother was gone. That basket held secrets that Margot did not know.

Weeks after her mother was gone, Jakub, Margot's father, brought Liuba home and moved her in. Liuba's nomadic family had been camping in the fields outside of Ibsergen. When Jakub, a roofer, walked to town in the morning, he passed by those fields and she followed him with her gaze, her hands in the laundry barrel. For Liuba, it was an easy choice to leave behind the caravan life of material uncertainty and a family which was soon going to dictate whom she should marry. Jakub did not prepare his daughters for Liuba's arrival. Within themselves, the girls swayed between joy and feelings of betrayal, as they nestled into a family dynamic with her.

Liuba was hard working, but carried heavy spite against Margot, as her father spoiled her the most out of all the ladies of the household. In his presence, Liuba treated Margot with care and caution. When Jakub was away, she would shout at and punish Margot. She would sink her fingernails in Margot's arms, bite her cheeks and force Margot to kneel on broken nutshells. Once, during a fit of rage, Liuba called Margot a bastard child; she made remarks about the different colors of Margot's eyes. Every tear Margot had in her presence was left unwiped, and every sob, ignored. Her sisters were old enough to escape the wrath of Liuba's jealousy and did not receive the same treatment. As soon as she could, teenage Margot was already joining her father to town during school holidays, seeking refuge in his presence. Under the summer blaze, she assembled and attached roofing tiles, learning a craft that she would never practice, while her sweat mixed with adhesives and dust.

There were no other relatives. For reasons left unspoken, Jakub did not keep in touch with any member of his own family, neither with his parents, nor siblings. The identity of her birth mother remained a mystery and Liuba's nomad family had moved on with their caravan, leaving her behind as she had become an outcast to them.

When she first saw blood in the morning sink, she thought it was menstrual blood from Liuba or her sisters' unfinished laundry. Margot only linked it with her father's relentless coughing when the town doctor paid his first home visit; she recognized him as they had rebuilt his roof the summer before. Her father's health had been spiraling down, but he had kept cheerful around the girls until the last weeks: a lifetime of exposure to asbestos had taken its toll on him. Margot was 16 when she was orphaned.

***

Decades away from her childhood in Ibsbergen, during her moments of solitude and contemplation, her mind goes back to the refuge of her father's love and to the unanswered basket of raspberries. Margot jogs, cutting through the rays of sunlight which peak down from the forest's roofing. With the corner of her eye, she sees the red dots of unpicked berries at foot level. Her stamina is diminished, as she hasn't been training since last month's marathon. She's home before her teenage daughter Hanna is awake.

It had been only her and Hanna since her husband passed away of leukemia. The time between the diagnosis and his passing had been one month: then, she became a single mother with a three year old. The first years after his death had been excruciating and burdensome, but Margot and Hanna were now close-knit and indispensable to each other. Liuba had already taught Margot how not to be a mother and she had built on that.

As she gets dressed for work, Margot watches herself in the mirror: one of her eyes is Mediterranean Sea, and the other is elm bark. It weighed on her self-esteem while growing up, a shy child standing out in crowds against her will, receiving side-glances and witnessing other children questioning their parents about her un-matching eyes. Only after she learned about _chimerism_ did this paradigm begin to shift, and she embraced it. Margot had two sets of DNA; at an early stage during fetal development, she had had a twin which she absorbed in the womb. Understanding the science behind the colors of her eyes had rebirthed her confidence; it had also sparked her love for genetics.

On her way out, she reaches into the mail box. She rips open the envelope to read the results in enjoyment. Earlier that year, she had ordered a National Geographic DNA test, done a cheek swab and sent it back to their laboratory. Her curiosity about her maternal lineage had been gnawing at her. Being female, she has two X chromosomes, but no Y chromosome. In the absence of a Y chromosome, the test cannot reveal her paternal ancestry. She had no living male blood relatives that she knew of who could have done the test in order to learn more about her father's genetic line. Even so, she had known her father; it was her birth mother that needed unveiling.

Her DNA sample was matched with the Greek reference population, which carries large Southern European and Asia Minor components.

"Huh. Liuba always hated it when father asked her to make tzatziki. She'd mumble that 'this isn't Greece' ", Margot thought to herself.

This grain of truth about her birth mother fueled her curiosity. What if she could have a Y chromosome to test? She knew nothing of her father's family or ancestry.

***

Now in her sunset years, Liuba was still living in Ibsbergen, retired and gardening in seclusion. Her health had started to fail and she asked to come live with any one of stepdaughters. Margot and her sisters, Marion and Martina, got together to decide who would take her in: for both Margot and Marion it was out of the question. Margot couldn't forget the physical punishments for the smallest transgressions, and Liuba's general duplicity. She felt no moral obligation to become Liuba's caregiver; she was a woman who had treated her with vengeance when she could not accept sharing her father's love.

Martina, the oldest sister, was the only one willing to take Liuba in. She had been in touch with her the most over the years, and felt Liuba was the closest thing they had had to a mother. Shortly after that decision, Martina found herself falling off a ladder, while trying to rescue a baby sparrow that had fallen from its' nest. She suffered a concussion that left her hospitalized for months. The ladder's highest wooden step gave way under her weight. It had been rotting for years.

Since Martina was no longer able to host Liuba and her declining health, Margot and Marion arranged for her to be placed into a residential home for the elderly. Two weeks in, she was found slouching out of her chair face down in her plate of beans. She was 71. Margot was at work, in the laboratory, when she got the phone call.

After the funeral, Margot stopped sleeping. She would roll from one side to the other. If she did sleep, she would dream of Liuba's better moments - a birthday cake or a rare, mild encouragement - and wake up in sweat. She would dream of Liuba's last days in the residential home, as she imagined them. Hanna found her pacing around the living room at 3 a.m., consumed.

Margot was overtaken by a sense of having failed to fulfill a moral duty. A repetitive thought, as if on a conveyor belt, would keep her restless: " _Liuba raised us, she raised me."_

The contradictions in her conscience engaged with each other:

"Liuba was not your mother. If you truly want to know who was, find her."

"How?''

Margot had been thinking of that " _how_ " for a while.

The following week, she took out a copy of her birth certificate from the town hall. Name: " _Margot Kowalewicz"_ ; Father: " _Jakub Kowalewicz_ "; mother: " _Calliope Anastas_ "; birthplace: Ibsbergen.

The first phone call she made was to the Ibsbergen Council Hall, in search for any record of a resident called Calliope Anastas or with the Anastas family name. She also called the local administration of the surrounding villages, towns, and cities. The search came up dry.. The wave that had risen within her was simmering off into an informational void, leaving behind unplanned disappointment.

As Margot's frustration and curiosity grew, she found herself shadowed by sleepless nights again. Her sisters couldn't help, nor were they interested in her search. Her thoughts boiled, and intertwined in search of that long lost basket of raspberries.

It was a Wednesday when she started calling local administration offices in the entire county again. This time she was not searching for Anastas-es, but for Kowalewicz-es. A public servant from Bremenswick called her back later in the day, having identified a registered Peter Kowalewicz.

She wrote the number on a piece of paper and held on to it for the rest of the day, until it was crumpled. She tried to lower her expectations, to dissuade herself that this phone number would lead to her family tree: " _Kowalewicz is a common Polish name. There are many Polish immigrants in the region. It could be a coincidence."_

When she finally made the call, there was a young man's voice on the other side. Margot told him who she was. Peter paused for a few seconds before speaking:

"I think we are cousins. You are my cousin. Your father.... Our fathers are brothers. Twins. I've seen family pictures of my father and Jakub. Grandpa talked about Jakub. I didn't know he was still alive. I always thought he died young. Father never mentioned him."

"He passed away years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

Peter didn't know anything about Calliope Anastas, but thought his father might. He gave Margot his father's phone number and address in Bremenswick. After the conversation ended, he was left with a sense of unease himself, as if he had long ago drank a homeopathic dose of betrayal and only now became aware of it.

Now, Margot had another piece of paper to crumple and crease. The name on that paper was Bartek Kowalewicz. The discovery that both her and her father had a twin sibling - although her own twin did not come to materialize in personhood - rattled her stomach.

Bartek Kowalewicz picked up his landline. His greeting reverberated through Margot as a _déjà entendu_ , propelling her back on heated rooftops of her childhood in Ibsbergen. He had spoken to his son Peter days before, and was expecting her phone call.

"Margot. Goodness. I haven't had a moment of rest since Peter told me you contacted him."

"I've been gathering courage."

Bartek went on.

"I've thought about you girls over the years. Especially about you, Margot. We have... I have photographs of you three growing up, on my night stand... Peter told me Jakub passed away years ago. It barely crossed my mind when the photographs stopped coming in the mail, but I just assumed he remarried, or moved, or simply... I never dared to look for you. I never dared to reach out to him."

Margot felt nauseous.

"I didn't even know my father had a twin brother."

"You... You must excuse me. I must sit down", said Bartek.

She could hear the interruptions in his voice. He sobbed.

"I remember holding you in my arms, your eyes glimmering of curiosity; you'd wrap your fingers around mine."

"Father was sending photographs of us?", she asked in confusion.

"Not to me, no. To our father; your grandfather. They wrote letters; Jakub sent photographs of you and your sisters. Your grandparents came to live with my wife and I in the 90s. He handed the photos to me. But I never dared reach out; I couldn't".

" _But why?"_ , she muttered.

Bartek hesitated.

"I'm sorry. Peter said you were searching for Calliope?"

"Yes. Do you know anything that could help me find her?"

"I have her address and her phone number. You have a pen? She doesn't live too far from Bremenswick. I already spoke to her – she is ecstatic."

Through rapid heartbeats, she reached for a pen and tried to ask the same question again.

"Why didn't you dare reach out? What happened?"

"Margot.... There was a rift. A schism in the family; it was insurmountable. I played my part in it. We had to leave Ibsbergen....

I made a vow to never tell. I promised your mother her secret won't see the light of day before she reached her grave. It's not mine to tell. I'm sorry, I can't tell you more, but she might."

Margot was so close to the truth she could almost taste it. She could see herself pulling away the curtains and unveiling the unknown. That basket of raspberries that had been haunting her was within reach. It didn't matter if the answer was something dramatic – it was something that happened decades ago. All that mattered was the truth.

***

Rain was drumming on the windshield as Hanna sat in the passengers' seat. She glanced sideways at her mother, whose blue eye was glistening under a tear. The day before, Margot had contacted Calliope, whose name was now Calliope Dach and who was now expecting them to arrive at any moment. None of her sisters had wanted to join her. Hanna wasn't too curious, but she could not abandon her mother's ship.

Heart in throat, she stepped out of the car. All her life, she had had a mother who lived within driving distance.

The door of the yellow house opened in an instant and the woman ran into the driveway, towards Margot, enveloping her with her dry arms. Small in frame and emaciated, her hair reached her waistline, ashen and disheveled. She shrieked Margot's name several times; she wouldn't let go. Hanna sat in the car, already regretting the journey.

Inside the home of Calliope Dach, stacks of books, old newspapers and clothes were aligned alongside the walls. Light was scarce and they followed a footpath in an Indian file until the living room, where they met Mr. Dach, and their son, Albert.

Hanna thought Albert was peculiar looking. He was young enough to assert that Calliope must have conceived him in her mid-40s. Through his crooked eyeglasses and from beneath his prematurely receding hairline, he kept his eyes on Hanna. When he leaned in to kiss her cheek, she could feel the smell of his body odor.

Margot and Hanna sat on two black leather chairs in the living room, while Calliope brought in tea and stale cookies. She chirped nonsensically, rejoicing, criticizing the weather, asking about their journey, rememorizing tales of Margot's infancy, asking about Marion and Martina. She did so with an eerie vivaciousness and laxity, as if there was no elephant in the room – and as if there had never been one.

Margot wasn't sure what she had expected, but this was not it. She felt no connection to the woman. She watched Albert watching Hanna in a manner that made her exponentially uncomfortable. She looked at Hanna, who was looking down to avoid his hungry, immovable gaze.

" _What I expected doesn't matter. I didn't even expect anything. I just need to find out_ ", Margot thought to herself. She breathed in as if she was preparing for public speech, whilst looking at the map of rivers formed by the cracks in the leather of the armchair she sat in.

"I've been searching for the truth. I just want to know what happened. I haven't come here with any resentment in heart, nor with the intention to judge anyone. Why did you leave? What happened between you and father?"

Calliope put her tea cup down, and the room stayed silent.

Margot continued: "I've heard town rumors that I wasn't his. Is it true? I just want to know the truth. It's part of my identity.''

There was silence for another moment during which she could see the woman's face change color and even form. A screeching sound was coming from her face. Immobilized by discomfort, Margot waited for words, witnessing the narcissistic rage. The pitch of the woman's voice would have kept a natural disaster at bay.

"Evil filthy liars! Town gossip! How dare they! Disgusting rumors! Nothing could be further from the truth. I'd always been faithful to your father. A moral woman, with fear of God – unlike some of those town harlots."

Mr. Dach and Albert had evaporated from the room. Calliope brushed against the table and broke a small dessert plate, leaving the shards on the floor. The string of curses did not end there. Margot put her hand on Hanna's arm. She slid back into the conversation during a second in which the woman had stopped for breath:

"What about you and father?''

" Jakub was wicked! A beast! A vile man, an unhinged maniac, a degenerate husband! A no good. I saved myself! I had to leave to live. There is nothing else to it! ", she wailed as her eyes bulged and her face contorted. Margot and Hanna were squeezing each other's hand in reciprocity.

Nothing in that description was consistent with any memory Margot had of her father. Jakub never got angry. He had been the archetypal gentle giant. He had been kind to Liuba, too.

'' _Wait here."_ Calliope left the room.

They sat in silence, looking at each other in both mutual understanding and disbelief. From the garden, Albert's shadow disturbed the rays of light pouring in through the veranda. The movement startled a cockroach which scurried from under the armchair to safety beneath the coffee table.

When Calliope returned she was holding a stack of old photographs. Her earlier outburst seemed to have happened only in the memories of Margot and Hanna:

"You were my favorite Margot. Some people thought your eyes were sign of a curse, but I knew better. I adored you for being different that the others. Here. Bartek was sending them to me."'

They were photographs of her, Marion and Martina. At three, with the Christmas tree. During a kindergarten celebration. In the fields next to Ibsergen. On a rooftop, with roof tiles in both hands. Jakub and the girls, looking for Easter eggs in the garden. She even remembered some of them being taken – she had originals at home. As Calliope would move the photographs one by one at the end of the stack, Margot saw a black and white slideshow of herself growing up. Calliope's words were not registering. Instead, the understanding of the extent of her abandonment sunk in as an anchor.

" _All those years, you knew where we were? What schools we attended? You could have found us? And you didn't come looking?",_ Margot asked while pushing away the stack of photographs and Calliope's hand. She had always assumed that what had impeded her birth mother to find them had been an insurmountable lack of knowledge as to their whereabouts.

Calliope grinned:

"My dear, it was never up to me to find you; it was up to you to find me..."

***

Albert peeked through the curtains as the car left his driveway. In the car, none of them could shake off the tension – although they had sighed in relief when the engine started. Not only did this visit not answer any of her questions about her family's history, but it had also daubed her heart in poison. Calliope's words were ringing in her ears: _"Up to us to find her?!"_

She wouldn't drive back home yet. Something good was going to come out of this trip. They had one more stop to make, a few kilometers further: Bremenswick. To meet Jakub's brother.

Margot was trying to make sense of the little that she knew: "Father had been sending photographs of us to his father, who lived with Bartek, who sent them to Calliope.... There had been a rift, in which Bartek played his part. A secret which Calliope asked him to keep until her death."

She left Hanna in the car. Margot rang the doorbell as her heart was disappearing with the same questions in hand. The five footsteps towards the door lasted eons. In the doorway, her eyes filled up as she saw so much of her father when the door opened. The elderly man placed his hands on her shoulders and they seemed to be each looking into a strange mirror. His eyes, too, were of different colors: Mediterranean sea and elm bark. Margot and Bartek were more alike in their physiques than Margot had been to her own father.

That moment, as she stood in front of her uncle, the world stopped as she collided with the truth. Every piece of the puzzle came together as the magnet of her mind assembled them: the town gossip, Bartek's guilt and his role in the family schism, the trail of photographs and Calliope's rage concealing the shame of her secret. The veil of mystery that had covered her mother's departure was sliding off.

Bartek uttered her name as they embraced; they embraced as kin, but not as niece and uncle. He too knew that Margot knew. Even if he had pledged to keep it a secret, his eyes and gestures spoke for him, as they were soaked in the loving regret of an absent father.

She now knew that the father who had raised her in Ibsbergen had been a man above the peers of his time, whose heart had refused to submit its' love to the conditions of his own ego. Betrayed by brother and wife, Jakub had raised Margot as his own, without having ever sketched hesitation in his love.

And now, in finding Bartek, she had also found her Y chromosome.

About the Author

_The Search_ is the author's first short story. Born in 1987 in Bucharest, Romania, Ioana Iliescu is a human rights jurist, with experience in the rights of persons with disabilities, children and prisoners. Her interests include poetry, social justice, family history and eerie occurrences _._ Feel free to contact her at ioana.iliescu1987@gmail.com

# Second Chances

by Loredana Jucan

Irene Lazaroff makes one last sweep over the chamber that houses the two hundred people in her care. At 27, she's the youngest commander the International Space Agency has ever had and she's responsible for the wellbeing of two hundred colonists sent out into space to a new world orbiting a star 10 light years away.

The second planet orbiting the main-sequence star Epsilon Eridani, also known as Ran, had proven to be a second Earth, slightly larger in size, but otherwise similar in all the ways that mattered. With Earth in shambles, a small colony ship had been assembled, the chosen ones now on route to their new home, in the hopes that humanity would, this time, get it right.

Everything is ready. Departure protocols have been completed, the ship's systems are within parameters, the stasis chambers are all functional and the colonists in deep sleep. In a few minutes, she'll turn on the ion propulsion system and they'll be on their way out of the Solar System for good.

She feels a pang in her heart and that's unexpected. She'd been so eager for a new start, that it catches her by surprise to feel this sudden sense of loss. She raises her head towards the windows outlining one of the walls of the control room for one more look at the planet in the distance, getting smaller every second even at impulse speed. With things on Earth as they are, you'd think she would not have any second thoughts about leaving. It's too late to be having second thoughts anyway, thinks Irene. She exhales slowly, allowing her errant thoughts to drift away with her breath. She has still some things to do before she can go to sleep as well.

She blinks and, for a moment, the image of her birth planet is replaced by one of those 20th century images she knows so well. The blue planet, it had been called. Now, it's ravaged by severe thunderstorms, endless droughts, heat-waves, hurricanes, and everything else in the extreme-weather guidebook. The constant global warming of the 20th and 21st centuries had taken a much greater toll on the planet than even the most pessimist of scientists of the 21st century had envisioned. Entire coastline cities had been wiped out by the rise of ocean levels, western Europe had been slowly turned into a desert, while the eastern part had been constantly under severe storms. Asia was now either scorching hot, or flooded. The American continents had fared no better.

All throughout the 21st century, scientists had tried to implement changes that would have reduced or stopped the rise in global temperatures. In an unconscionable effort a century ago, all countries had pledged to uphold an improved Paris Agreement. But by the middle of the 22nd century it had become clear the efforts had been too little, and definitely too late. Either way, the situation on Earth is dire now.

If humanity's cradle is doomed, not so is the situation for the species it had fostered. After decades of seemingly futile attempts, a propulsion system had been finally perfected so it could take people to other stars in reasonable amounts of time. And it hadn't been all that complicated, either: the ion propulsion system was based on nitrogen, a chemical element found in abundance on Earth.

These musings bring Irene to the moment when news had broken out that interstellar travel had become possible and that a spaceship was under construction, and all the chaos that had erupted across the Earth. She doesn't want to think about that. Sighing, she turns back to her tasks. "Archie, run a pre-flight check on all the systems."

The Artificial Computerized Humanoid Interface, or Archie as she'd started calling the sophisticated onboard computer, signals its compliance with a ping. Her would be companion for most of the trip, Archie is a sophisticated piece of software - the best the brightest minds in computer engineering could come up with. It could run hundreds of simulations, and react to unexpected situations faster than any human could possibly hope for. Even make decisions better than 85% of the humans he'd been pitched against during their training. But even so, the big bosses at the International Space Agency had felt more secure in placing a human in charge. So here she is, the product of countless selections, interviews, and tests.

"All systems are ready, Commander", comes the synthetic voice through the speakers.

Irene turns her head towards the window once again and searches for the familiar sight of her home planet. She keeps her eyes locked with it for a few seconds, mentally saying goodbye to her former life. "All right, Archie, let's do this! Turn the ion propulsion engine on."

Almost immediately there's a faint buzzing beneath her feet. The huge ion engines flare to life, nitrogen being pushed through the valves. In a few seconds, the starship will increase its speed a tenfold, and in another few seconds after that, a hundredfold.

Irene goes back to her tasks; she stops to look towards Earth every once in a while, and by the third time she does it, the planet is just a dot in the vast blackness surrounding their ship, The Endeavour.

It's only when her body is encased in her stasis chamber, and she's drifting to sleep, that a slight chill goes through her. They've left their home planet and humanity is finally going to the stars. Not a minute too soon, in her opinion. Her final thoughts before losing consciousness are of another blue planet that awaits them in the Eridani system, and that she'll be the first human to see it.

***

She'd been dreaming. She doesn't remember exactly what, but she's sure she'd been dreaming about something because she feels disoriented and has trouble grasping her thoughts.

There's cool air brushing across her face. Her eyes are closed, yet she feels light shining on her face. There's this feeling that there's something she must do, but she can't remember what.

It takes her a moment to realize there's a piercing sound that's blocking her thoughts. She tries to move, to shut the offending alarm, but her body feels sluggish. There's a prick in her arm, yet she's sure she hasn't moved. Then it all comes in a rush: she remembers who and where she is, and most importantly, she knows what the piercing sound is.

Not wasting any more time, commander Irene Lazaroff jumps out of her stasis chamber and into her jumpsuit before her brain actually registers the fact that she's been awoken ahead of schedule. The adrenalin she'd been shot with a few seconds before courses through her veins, accelerating her movements.

"Archie, what happened?" she yells at the computer.

"The ship has suffered a containment breach in the fuel chamber following a hit from a micro-asteroid. We are venting nitrogen." The computer's soft tone is so at odds with the urgency she feels flowing through her bloodstream, for a moment it leaves her baffled.

"Where?" There are two fuel chambers, one on each side of the ship, and they span its entire length.

"Starboard side, deck 9." She's running before Archie even finishes his sentence. She grabs her helmet, gloves and toolbox, stopping just outside the hatch to the corridor to strap everything on and check that her costume is sealed. Then she's off running again, all the while reading the reports from Archie.

She's going to have to go outside the ship, find the hole left by the micro-asteroid and seal it shut. And she's going to have to do it as fast as possible - they've already lost some of their fuel and it's critical she put a stop to it.

Costume tightly sealed, toolbox in hand, Irene faces the hatch that will take her inside the airlock right near deck 9. "Archie, I'm in position. Open the door." The tiny counter above the door turns on, numbers flashing in a silent countdown. When it gets to zero, the hatch opens with a swoosh. Irene is quick to go through it and crosses the chamber in three strides. By the time the hatch behind her closes, she's in front of the outside door, waiting. Before she can say anything, the countdown begins. They make a good team, Archie and her, she thinks.

Once outside, it takes her a while to locate the hole and make her way to it. She's not sure how much because she'd stopped counting after the thirtieth second; she was getting too nervous, so she deliberately keeps her eyes off the chronometer displayed in her helmet's visor. She's sure it doesn't take her more than a couple of minutes to finish sealing the hole - her movements are precise and practiced. After all, she'd done it thousands of times in simulations back on Earth.

When it's finally done, and Archie confirms the leakage is stopped, she expels a deep breath. It feels like the first breath she's actually taken since she's woken up that she's aware of. She closes her eyes for a bit, trying to regulate her breathing and calm her still racing heart, after-effects of the adrenalin shot she'd been given.

The sight that greets her is humbling, frightening even: she's surrounded by darkness, an endless pitch black, the stationary ship bright against a dark canvas dotted by faraway stars. A startling sight for someone on their first interstellar flight.

"Commander Lazaroff, I have finished a diagnostics report on all the ship's systems."

The computer's voice shakes her back to reality. They've just averted a crisis, and it's time to find out what it really cost them. "I'm on my way, Archie", she responds and heads back inside, but not before taking one last look around.

"In our obscurity - in all this vastness - there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves. It is up to us." This old quote by Carl Sagan, the famous 20th century astronomer, pops up in her mind unbidden. It fits.

***

Although she's still under the influence of the adrenalin shot, Irene makes her way to the control room in an unhurried manner, despite the edginess she feels, taking off her helmet and gloves first, then storing the toolbox in its proper place.

Steeling herself, she prepares a cup of hot tea, then sits down at her desk. "Display results on my console," she asks the computer.

Data starts pouring and she begins going through the stats on each of the ship's crucial systems, eager to reach the section most affected by the recent accident: the fuel reserves.

The numbers displayed on the screen are worrisome, yet better than she'd feared. At 65% remaining fuel, they might have a chance to complete the mission. A quick scan of the other sections confirms that everything else is running within parameters, so for now they can focus on the engine problem and what the recent loss of nitrogen means for the success of their mission.

"Computer, simulate our arrival at Epsilon Eridani using the current fuel levels."

"Computing", comes the dull reply. Irene sighs; maybe she should have insisted that the programmers create a more "human" voice for Archie. It had not seemed important at the time, but now, when she's so far away from home and there's a crisis, she feels the need for some human connection. She's been prepared for working and functioning alone, and she's gone through countless scenarios just like this one hundreds of times, so she knows what she has to do. But right now, she wishes she had someone else nearby just to trade ideas with and shoulder some of the responsibility.

"With current fuel levels, we will fall short of the arrival to Epsilon Eridani by 0.6 light years."

Irene drops the cup, the tea spilling all over the front of her jumpsuit. She only flinches when the hot liquid penetrates the protection of the cloth, but she doesn't give it any other thought. "Run the simulation again", she asks in a strained voice.

"At current levels, The Endeavour will run out of fuel 0.6 light years away from Epsilon Eridani", confirms the computer again in an insipid voice, insensitive to the death sentence this information means for the colonists.

Suddenly aware she's stopped breathing, Irene takes several deep breaths. She closes her eyes and focuses on her breathing - it's an exercise she practices often. It calms her and it helps her regain her focus. When she feels her heart slowing down, she opens her eyes. "Archie, start a scan of the stars within fuel range and sort them by human-compatible planets. If we can't reach Ran, maybe we can reach someplace else."

"Understood, Commander. Scan will be completed in 47 hours."

"Proceed. And Archie, send me detailed schematics of the ship." If she is going to have to wait for so many hours, she might as well study the ship's systems again and see what she can tinker with to repair the damage done by the micro-asteroid. She and Archie will have to be creative, because in none of the scenarios they'd prepared for, had they lost so much of their fuel.

***

"Commander Lazaroff, scan of nearby stars is complete. Several exoplanets have been found."

"How many are in the Goldilocks zone?" Named that way after the famous kids' story "Goldilocks and the Three Bears", the term refers to planets that are just the right distance from their star to allow liquid water on their surface, the first crucial ingredient for harbouring human life.

"Four", comes the prompt response.

It's not a big number, but considering there aren't many stars in their vicinity, it's more than Irene could have hoped for. Eridani 4, or Epsilon Eridani, had been chosen because, at a distance of 10 light years, it was close enough to Earth to make a trip there feasible and because the second planet was, according to measurements, Earth's bigger twin. "Scan for water and atmosphere."

The seconds seem to drag on forever before Archie comes back with a reply: "Two planets have the potential to harbour human life."

"Display on main screen." The huge LCD screen built in one of the side walls lights up, lines and dots marking positions on the map. An endless series of numbers starts flashing as well: information on the parent stars, the planets' masses, rotation periods, atmosphere composition, and other important facts.

The data keeps pouring in from the long range sensors, a bit too much for her tired brain to process without the aid of some stimulant. "Archie, please group the information by planet", she asks as she grabs a cup of tea.

She sits down at her desk again, cup in hand. She's lost count of the number of times she's done this exact thing in the past three days. The data is now displayed in two columns. A quick scan of the information reveals that one of the planets is only 65% compatible with human life: while the atmosphere is breathable, the distance from its star makes the planet a cold place to be on. In a pinch, it would do. But the other one is a much better option.

It's a little bit smaller than Earth and its sun is a red dwarf, meaning that the planet is much closer to the star than Earth is. Their year would certainly fly by if they settle on this planet, but it has breathable atmosphere and the temperature readings indicate values of 20°C around the Equator. The increased levels of oxygen in the atmosphere hint at the presence of plant life. And, not surprisingly, a few lines below comes the confirmation. The planet has two continents, spanning both hemispheres, each displaying evidence of the presence of life forms.

"Archie, let's do further scans on Proxima B. Lock all sensors on the planet. I want to know everything we can find out about it."

"Acknowledged, Commander. The results will be available in three hours, forty five minutes."

"Great!" More time to kill, she thinks. "Archie, I'll go for a run. Let me know 15 minutes before the results are in."

"Acknowledged."

And true to his word, Archie "comes back to life" when she'd asked him. Just in time for her to take a quick shower and get herself another cup of tea.

"Sensors reveal the existence of plant and animal life forms on the northern continent", Archie stars before she's even seated at her desk. "They've also detected slightly increased levels of carbon dioxide compared to the southern hemisphere. It might indicate the presence of an industrial-age type civilization." These results confirm the suspicions she's had since she'd first seen the data.

That's troubling news, as far as Irene is concerned. If it's true the planet has sentient aliens on it, and quite advanced by the looks of it, then their situation is still dire. She and the other scientists at the ISA had talked about this scenario at length and they'd always reached the same conclusion: colonization on a planet with technologically advanced beings on it was to be avoided at all costs. Apart from the obvious hurdles when colonizing a new, strange place, conflicts with the locals were to be avoided. The colonists had almost no military training, and two hundred wasn't such a large number for them to afford losing anyone.

***

It's been three days and all she's done is pour over schematics after schematics, ask for additional scans, run various simulations. She's tired, her muscles sore from standing in the same position for hours.

Their situation has not changed: they still can't get to Eridani 4, they still need to settle somewhere, and the only viable solution they have right now is to colonize this new planet. The moral implications of that decision are not lost on her: it would mean the sure destruction of the alien species. No matter how careful they are, Irene knows it will not be enough. Earth's history is full of examples where lesser civilizations have been wiped out by more technologically advanced explorers. Her own ancestors had suffered a similar fate. Once a proud people of the Americas, with lands covering the entire central part of the continent, they'd been driven slowly to the brink of extinction after the arrival of the Europeans.

She couldn't help thinking about her grandmother and how much this state of affairs had affected her all of her life. Irene had been raised with stories of how her people had struggled after being forcibly removed from their lands, how difficult it had been for them to find jobs, and mostly, to watch a thriving community dwindle generation after generation. While her personal feelings on the matter had never been as involved as her grandmother's, she is well aware where an imbalance of power and technology can lead to.

Can she do it? Can she condemn a species to death on their own planet, just because a bunch of humans need sanctuary? Her grandmother had instilled in her a powerful sense of right and wrong and it is, without a doubt, wrong to do this to these beings. Yet she cannot condemn her people to death either.

No matter how much she looks at the situation from different angles, and she's done this plenty of times in the past few days, she always comes up against the same blocking point: can she sign the death warrant for two hundred colonists? Their death is a certainty, while the aliens might not die if they settle on the planet, or they might die either way, regardless of their interference. How ironic that she is now the explorer, the one forced to make such a decision. Maybe the early Europeans had not been conscious of what they were doing when they'd gotten to America, but she knows.

Yet the answer is always the same: yes. For the people under her charge, she'd do anything. She'd made them a promise to see them through to new Earth in one piece, and that is what she is going to do. But she cannot help the misgivings and the sick feeling to her stomach. She hadn't been able to sleep well, either. In short, she's taken a decision that is haunting her. And it might well haunt her for the rest of her life.

She takes a sip of her tea. The liquid feels cold on her tongue and even a little bit sour. She cringes at the taste; she's lost so much track of the time, that she's wasted another perfectly good cup of tea.

Tossing the last of the liquid down her throat, Irene leaves the mess hall and heads towards the control room. She has several more systems to analyze before she can finally turn the ship toward the planet. And she has several contingency plans to draw out before the final decision is set in motion. But if push comes to shove, she will settle her people on that planet. Her mission is clear: make sure the colonists settle on a habitable world and that they successfully start a colony on it. The future of the human race might very well be at stake. And if she does end up being the vector of destruction for these aliens, she'll have an entire lifetime to beg whatever deity ruled the universe for forgiveness. And she hopes her grandmother, wherever she is, will forgive her.

***

The idea comes to her while she's doing her customary run along the empty corridors. She stops for a bit to catch her breath, filling her lungs with precious air, and it's then that it hits her: she's breathing air. And air is 78% nitrogen.

The colonists are all in their stasis chambers, so they don't need the atmosphere on the ship and she can get by with the spacesuits until she can go back to stasis. Not to mention the fact that people can breathe pure oxygen as well, if need be. And The Endeavour is large enough that maybe the nitrogen in the air is sufficient for them to complete their journey.

She does a 180°-turn back towards the control room to test her theory. If she's right, then she won't have to sacrifice anyone for humanity's wellbeing and they will make it to their intended destination.

"Archie, I need you to run some tests", she manages between gulps of air, turning a corner. "Calculate the amount of air available on the ship, minus the control room and the stasis chamber. Then determine the amount of nitrogen available overall. And then see if that amount of nitrogen would help get us to our initial destination."

"Stand by, Commander Lazaroff."

She crosses the threshold to the control room just as Archie gets back to her: "Calculations complete, Commander. The amount of harnessed nitrogen would be sufficient to get the ship to Epsilon Eridani."

Irene halts midstep. It's what she'd hoped for, but she can't really believe the way out of this conundrum would be that simple. "Display results and simulations on my computer", she urges Archie.

Her desk is cluttered, but it doesn't matter. She pushes aside pen, paper, empty cups and settles in for a perusal of the results. And they're not bad: it actually looks like they'll have nitrogen to spare. She'll have to stay in a spacesuit for the rest of the trip or, at the very least, until she can get in her stasis chamber once again.

It's a small sacrifice to make, in her opinion. But then comes the obvious question: how can she harness all the nitrogen out of the ship's air? And can she even do it with the equipment on board?

She'll have to build a membrane system, one that can separate the nitrogen from all the other gases in the atmosphere. She's almost certain she can build such a machine with the tools on board; after all, such a system should only force compressed air through a vessel which would allow oxygen, water vapor, and other elements to permeate out from its walls, while trapping the nitrogen, which would then be redirected towards the fuel chamber. Does she have enough materials for a good membrane? They need the nitrogen to be at least 95% pure.

"Archie, what is the best membrane for nitrogen separation?"

"Best results are obtained by using zeolite membranes."

"Do we have any zeolite on board? We should. If I remember correctly, the water filters are made of zeolite."

"Indeed, Commander. Zeolite membranes are used in the water filters."

"We have several spare filters, don't we? Would one be sufficient to extract the nitrogen aboard the ship?" She hopes it would be. Water filters are essential for the wellbeing of the colony, especially during the first years when they'll be struggling with setting everything up, so they couldn't possibly spare more than one.

"Yes, Commander. But extracting the nitrogen will take 34 hours."

Almost 2 days. And that means she'll have to be in a suit for at least 4 days: two days for the extraction of the gas and refueling, then she'll have to go through all the departure protocols again and finally settle herself back into stasis. It could be worse. Of course, she could go without the suit, but she doesn't want to risk losing her consciousness during such delicate procedures.

"Archie, let's explore this possibility. I want to know what it would take to build a zeolite membrane for gas separation from one of the backup water filters. And show me the ship's schematics. The plan is to seal the command center and the stasis chamber, and extract the nitrogen from the air in the rest of the ship."

"Understood. Schematics are being displayed. May I suggest we use the ship's ventilation system?"

"Hmm... We could set up the separation device near the fuel chamber. We'll draw the air through the ventilation system and let the remaining components drift away in the corridor. Good call, Archie."

With a bounce in her step, Irene stops by the water heater, for a new cup of tea. They've got plans to make and she wants to be as sharp as possible.

"Archie, let's make a list of all the materials we need to build this thing. Let's start with the gas separation device."

And thus begins the long process of shaping a backup plan, one that will enable her to complete the initial mission and also not be a factor in the destruction of an alien civilization. Once they get to Epsilon Eridani, she'll send all the data she's gathered on this planet back to Earth. Maybe one day they'll revisit, see how the aliens have evolved.

It takes them five hours to sketch all the details of this new plan. She's happy with the results and she's more than willing to go through all the steps to implement it. But she wants to get some sleep before committing herself to this course of action. She needs to be well rested before she puts everything in motion.

It will take her most of the day to get the gas separation device ready, then she'll have to seal off the ventilation system in both rooms she wants to keep intact, and build makeshift airlocks at their entrances. She could do without, but once the nitrogen is gone, the pressure on the ship will drop and she wants to avoid pressure equalization every time she opens the door.

She'll have to convert the water filter into a membrane and attach it to the device that will absorb the nitrogen. Then create a tube between the storage device and the fuel chamber. Archie will take care of monitoring the purity of the extracted nitrogen, but she'll have to insert the sensor herself.

The extraction itself will take several hours, but once the fuel chambers are filled, she'll get The Endeavour ready for departure. Several busy days are ahead of her, but she's got the will, and energy to do it.
About the Author

Loredana has always been passionate about the stars. So it's not surprising that this passion for space has found its way in the plot of this short story.

# Vivien

by Iulia Radu

1

Short, powerful strikes, followed by a commanding voice made her realize that Kay had started an assault with eggs towards her window glass to make her get out of bed.

Damn...it's gonna take me forever to clean, she thought. I gotta stop her.

She jumped into her dressing gown, the only thing she'd been wearing in the last couple of months, beside her PJ's, and took the back door to get to the yard, where Kay was still screaming her lungs out, with a carton of eggs in her left hand.

"You can stop now, Kay." The power of her voice couldn't compete with Kay's, even though she tried to make herself sound as dominant and upset as she could.

"God, Viv, I've been roaming around your house for days! Why won't you let me in, for once? We've all been worried!" Kay sounded like a mother rebuking her child for running away from her in the supermarket. In a way, Vivian did exactly that. She ran away. But isolating herself from her friends didn't remove them from her life. In fact, they were actually getting even more suffocating than before. This thought made her soul smile. She cared about her friends, who were not many, but were like a second family to her. But she was also aware of the fact that she was unable to go out or go on living her life, as if nothing happened, just returning to her old habits, her old activities, the daily routine. She just couldn't do it. And she knew that they were going to make her do that, because that's what they considered it was "the right thing". _It's been months now, Viv. I really understand you, but you can't spend the rest of your life in bed, alone, haunted by memories from the past. You have to move on, even if it hurts,_ she could hear them say. Jonah, out of them all. He was the tough guy. He always took life's hardship without blinking. Never complained, always stepped up and grew with the pain. His dad left when he was only a child, so he had to become the man of the house and take care of his ill mother. He, indeed had some troubles to face and he grew stronger with each of them.

_But I'm not him,_ thought Vivien.

"Are you gonna sit there and stare at me like that for the rest of the day?" burst Kay.

"Come inside. I'll make some tea."

They both entered the back door and headed to the kitchen.

"Damn, Viv, you got us all out of our minds. Stephanie, Mark, me... even Jonah went by to check on you. Why won't you even text us? _Hey, guys, I'm ok, I'm still alive. I won't answer the door 'cause I can't stand your stupid faces anymore_. Anything, Viv.

Kay looked seriously worried. Vivien couldn't speak so she covered her face with both of her hands and sighed. She scratched her eyes as to remove the reality she was in and to hopefully open them to new surroundings. The universe deceived her. She was still there, at the kitchen's table, and Kay was still in front of her.

"Viv, we were concerned. It even crossed our minds that you committed suicide." said Kay in a very low voice, as if she was ashamed of her statement.

"Why didn't you call the police, then?"

"Because Jonah figured that you might want to be left alone. He noticed signs of human existence and decided there was no need to call the police. He said to be gentle on you."

Vivien was surprised to see these signs of empathy from Jonah, who'd thought would be the first to come shake her.

"Viv, I'm sorry for the eggs and the yelling, but I honestly didn't know how to get to you! It's been a while since we've last known from you. And it's not fair. We're still here and we care for you. I know it's hard, but I think that breaking with us it's not gonna do you any better."

_I don't wanna be better,_ thought Vivien. She remained silent.

"Come on, put some fresh clothes on you and comb your hair. I don't want you to go out to party. I just want you to have some fresh air. Walk a little. See us. We miss you." Kay seemed to beg her.

"I feel like... I'm not strong enough to do even those little things..." Vivien's voice was so rusty and she was mostly whispering the words. Kay grabbed her hands and looked her in the eyes.

"I know it's not easy. Neither is for us. We're not through. I can't imagine what you must be feeling. But you are not alone in this. Show us some trust, please."

A part of Vivien wanted to yell at Kay that she definitely had no idea what it was like and what a trauma this is for her. That she will probably never feel anything near that. But she was aware that Kay and her friends wore no guilt for the event. They were just trying to help her, but she couldn't be helped. She didn't even know if she wanted to be.

"Wait for me here. I'll be down in a couple of minutes" said Vivien, getting up from her chair, stumbling to the stairs.

Five minutes later, she was down, in a pair of jeans, a silk blouse and a leather jacket, with her hair up in a ponytail.

"Umm... you smell like summer" said Kay, trying to share a smile.

"Thanks..."

"Will you allow me to take you out to eat? I've searched through your fridge and it's emptier than my wallet. How do you survive?" Kay immediately realized her own words, and Vivien looked away, hiding her tears. "Viv, I'm sorry... let's just go."

Truth is that Vivien had lost a lot of weight in the last couple of months. She was barely eating anything. A few sunken fruits and some wild rice was all the food she had in the house. But she was almost never hungry. Neither was now, but she had no energy to stand against Kay, so she just went along with her friend's decisions. So they ended up at _TIME,_ the café where both Kay and Mark were working. Apparently, today it was Mark's shift and Kay was free.

"My... Viv, I'm so glad to see you!" Mark jumped from the bar and gave her what he used to call a "bear hug". Vivian felt genuine happiness and a sort of relief in his voice. She was glad to see him too, but she said nothing, they just stood there for a few seconds, wrapped in each other's arms.

"What's good to eat?" asked Kay, staring at the display case.

"Go have a seat. I'll get you both something very tasty. We got them this morning. I barely stopped myself from licking my fingers." Vivien forgot how Mark was sometimes the most expressive man she's ever met. He was moving around like an Italian chef preparing the most delicious dish ever. She shook her head and sat at a table next to Kay who was laughing at Mark and his representation.

"Ah... it's so good the café isn't full. It's a cloudy day. But I like it better like that. It's more intimate." said Kay and Viv agreed. She was in no mood for crowded places, it was too much human contact already. "I hope you don't mind, but I told Stephanie and Jonah that you're here with me. They want to see you. Is it ok?"

Vivian bit her upper lip and turned her gaze away from Kay. There was a reason she avoided all their calls. She was not ready for a reunion. She wasn't sure she could survive it in an emotionally stable condition. She closed her eyes, trying to keep herself together, then, she heard Kay saying:

"Vivien, it's been months! You've locked yourself in the house and let nobody hear from you. You refused to see us and every time we tried you just withdrew yourself even more. What is wrong in wanting to see you?"

"There is nothing wrong, Kay. It's right. But I'm miserable..." said Vivien failing to hold back the tears. After wiping them away, she said: "I can't see you all and not think of Victor as a missing piece of the puzzle. Nothing is the same anymore. I tried to make peace with the thought, tried to push myself to get out of the bed every morning, but it's just not...I just can't. He's not there. He's in me, in every cell of my body, it still smells like him in the house, but he is not there. I can't figure my life out. And it's all because of me!" Vivien was now crying.

"It's not because of you! It was an accident."

"I was driving, Kay! I was holding the wheel."

"The truck driver was to blame, not you! You were driving regularly."

"I should be the dead one. He should've driven. I shouldn't have let him drink..."

"What makes you think that you being dead would have been the solution to the problem?"

"Because he'd be alive."

They were interrupted by Mark who came with two plates, each of them containing a steak sandwich. The steams were rising up the ceiling, and the meat smell filled the room. His joy faded when he saw Vivien crying. He put the plates on the table in front of the girls and his shoulders dropped as he sat down next to them.

"Look, I'm not asking you to feel the same about it. I'm not asking you to feel my pain. But you want me to move on, like you do, and that's impossible. You don't know my connection with him. It was surreal. We planned on a family together. We wanted to build so many things... And these attempts of yours to take me out and make me live my life are simply not going to work. HE was my life. I've got nothing to live for." After her burst, Vivien looked out the window, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Her friends said nothing. Stephanie and Jonah arrived just then, and sat down too, without breathing a word, understanding and sharing the sobriety required.

"We love you, just as much as we loved him." Jonah broke the silence after a few minutes. "And I think it's worth holding onto the people we love. We understand you, Viv, and we don't want you to do anything. But we do want you to live."

This made everyone at the table turn their gaze from the floor to Jonah and back to Vivien.

"I'm just not gonna make it without him. I don't think I want to" said Viv choking on her words.

"We just want you to know that we are here with you." said Stephanie. "Nothing more."

They all stood in silence, mourning Victor. Even though she felt scattered at first, seeing them all brought her a spark of peace, an attempt of a feeling she hadn't had in a while. Her burden hadn't got easier to bear, though. She spent the rest of the day at the café, with them, not talking too much, but listening to them catching up with each other. That managed to distract her for a little while. But she knew the moment she'd get home she'd sink in the heavy loneliness and emptiness.

"Viv, come sleep at my place" Kay offered herself.

"Kay, I truly appreciate that, but I want to sleep in my own bed." Vivien was feeling quite exhausted and she knew that she wasn't able to cope with spending the night next to somebody. So she went home alone instead, after reassuring Kay that she was not going to do anything reckless.

She dreamt of Victor that night.

2

"Are you looking for a lifesaving instructions manual?"

Vivien was taken by surprise, she didn't expect anybody to address her, since she had gone there alone and people were usually quiet in the library. Her eyes met an old lady, perhaps in her mid 50's, green-eyed and dressed in mixed bright colors.

"Who's asking? If I'm not rude."

"A friend" said the old lady smiling. "Tell me what you're looking for, I might help you."

Thinking that maybe she was just an employee of the library, giving a helping hand to the students, Vivien continued the conversation:

"I was actually looking for some books about mindfulness and spiritual therapy. Can you recommend me something that will actually work?"

"Are you trying to heal a wound?" asked the lady, holding her gaze a little too long.

"I... yeah, perhaps."

"I know how painful it can be to lose somebody you love so much. Soul mate connections are so rare and so strong. It's beyond our human way of understanding things. So I get your sorrow, darling."

Vivien froze, unable to say a word. She was now examining her possibilities on the next step. Whether to turn her back and run, forgetting the episode or stay and find out who the lady was. After all, she wasn't alone in the library.

"My girl... don't be scared. I'm not evil. I'm just a lady who learnt how to read people and it's visible that you've been suffering. Come, let's have a seat so you can tell me about it."

She led Vivien to a corner that was relatively hidden from the other students.

*

"Who are you? And why am I sitting here with you sharing my life story?" asked Vivien resting her head in her palms, fixing the wooden floor underneath her feet.

"You can call me Maggie, if you want to put a name on me."

"And why am I listening to you talking all this nonsense?"

Maggie raised her eyebrows as if she couldn't see this attitude coming out of the girl. But her mood recovered in no time, the smile back on her face. She opened her mouth and left the words hanging, while Vivien went off:

"This sounds like a joke to me. And you look like a bored and delusional old lady who's escaped her caretaker. Stop mocking people's pain!"

Vivien stood up and almost flipped the table over, turning her back to Maggie. Her pace made the floor vibrate so hard that a few people who were reading looked up, visibly disturbed. But the girl stepped out of the library without looking back.

She walked as far as she could, until her feet hurt and stopped in a bus station, having a seat right on the sidewalk curb, tears on her face. Her whole body was trembling and a lady holding a little boy by the hand came to check on her. Vivien looked at them, aware of her ravaged look and waved at the lady to be left alone. She got on the bus that was supposed to take her home. On the way, she could notice the curious glances strangers were throwing at her. Right before she got off, she caught a sight of what they were all looking at. Her reflection in the tiny mirror above her head shocked her. She was a walking ghost.

3

Dear Universe,

I don't know why I'm going for this, but I feel so empty and lost that, in this moment of craziness, I'm choosing to take Maggie's offer. My hand is trembling as I'm writing these words and the possibility of this actually happening scares me. But I would give anything to see my Victor once again, to look him in his deep blue eyes, to have him resting his face in my palms and hear his soft voice calling my name. These months after he passed away were hell on earth to me. And even with all the love and support I received from my friends and my mother, it doesn't get any easier. Needn't I tell you what Victor means to me, you must be very aware of it. He was the only man I could trust, the only one whose hands I've put my life into. And I love him more than I could ever love myself. I've never seen a man like him. Kind, loving, supportive and loyal to the bone. Any woman's dream partner. I often looked at him and thought he was a better person than I am.

That's why I would like to ask you this one big favor that Maggie told me about. I would like to make a deal with you. Take me back to the day of the accident so I can save him. I want him to live. I want him to live more than I want myself to, without him. Consider this my sacrifice. My life for his.

With all my hope and love for Victor,

Vivien Hayes.

Vivien felt relieved after writing this letter. The fire of despair that had been burning so fiercely in her heart in the last couple of months dimmed a little and she was now feeling lighter. She then took a match box and went to the bathroom, holding the piece of paper above the bath tub. She stroke a match and held the flame below, watching all the letters disappear, as the paper was getting black, tearing apart, turning to ash. Regarding Maggie's terms, the ritual was completed. She had nothing to do but to wait.

4

The sun rays were peering through the curtains, while the soft wind was blowing them back and forth, performing a light spectacle on the wooden floor of Vivien's room, which made her wake up. The wind was warm and for a second she felt confused. She didn't remember to have fallen asleep with the window open, neither to enjoy such a mild weather on early November. She rubbed her eyes and got up on her elbows, looking around, waiting for her sight to adjust to daylight. She turned her head to the other side of the bed and jumped on her feet, her heart pumping so fast inside her chest, that, for a second, she thought she was going to have a heart attack. A stranger was lying in bed, next to her. A few seconds of dizziness mixed with fear followed, then, she recognized the so familiar features of the man who was still asleep.

There he was, with his messy dark hair all over the pillow, both his hands underneath it, like he always used to sleep, and the blanket covering only half of his body, making Vivien's stomach tighten at the sight of that back that she used to cover with kisses during their morning foreplay. She stood there for a few seconds or even minutes, doubting the realness of that image. She pinched herself many times and it hurt.

"Victor?" asked Vivien still standing, trying to wake him up. "Baby?"

His body tensed all of a sudden while he was trying to open his eyes, squeezing the pillow in his arms as he escaped a yawn and turned his face towards Vivien.

"Oh, hi there!" His voice sounded like a piece of chalk on a blackboard. He cleared his throat and tried once again. "Hi there! I guess somebody is feeling very fresh this morning!", he said as he leaned on his elbows for support.

Her gaze fixed him and, hadn't it been for her eyelids to move in her blinking, you could've said she turned to stone.

"What are you doing up there, my love? Come here next to me."

Vivien launched herself into his arms, surrendering to that moment, making efforts to hold back her tears as she was inhaling his body's scent, as a sort of proof that it was him, in flesh.

"My love, are you okay?" Victor was caressing her back, feeling the pressure that Vivien was putting into her hug.

"Yes, yes, yes" she replied, nodding her head, still wrapped in his arms. She longed for his lips and they got lost in the heat of the moment, in the passion, lust and love they had built together in all those years.

5

"How dare you tell me you don't like those new fries at McDonald's, come on!! That western sauce and the crispy onion are to die for! Seriously, I've got to coach you into basic life matters."

"Oh come on! I bet that if I ate from McDonald's half the times you do, you'd be waving at me!"

"You know that's not true! In fact, I'd be training myself for when we're going to have our little nugget and you'll be chubby and absolutely adorable." Victor's big grin was streaming eagerness and excitement. Vivien tried to smile back at him, but all she managed to come out with was a smirk that Victor seemed not to have noticed, because right then, Vivien's cell phone rang, ending his allusions on birth and children and things that scared young women.

Vivien reached for it on the nightstand and returned to her place next to Victor.

"Hi, Leah! What's up?"

"Viv! I hope you're ready for tonight! Just making some calls checking up on everyone. I'm expecting you around 7 pm at the mansion. Also, do you think it's a good idea to order sushi?

What the heck is she talking about? thought Vivien.

"Hello? Vivien?"

Vivien put Leah on speaker and looked at the date on her phone. April 23rd. _Oh Lord._ Panic shot through her.

"Oh...um... yes, of course, 7 pm, we'll be there."

"Are you okay? You sound odd."

"No, no, no. I'm just not fully sober, that's all."

"Well, get some rest girl, we're partying tonight! Bye, see you!"

"See you, Leah!"

Vivien hung up and looked at the ceiling, connecting the dots. April 23rd, the day of Leah's engagement party. The day of the accident. So the letter worked. The Universe sent her back to save Victor's life. Maggie's words popped into her head, reminding her this was a deal, not a gift: _It has to be a trade, otherwise the nature's balance would be disturbed._ A cold shiver traveled down her spine making her shudder. How come she didn't realize it the instant she woke up and saw Victor next to her? She felt that the clock was ticking even though she had no idea what was about to happen. But her intuition told her she was in disadvantage. She had to buy some time and figure things out.

And then it hit her. Leah's party... what if they didn't go at all? Wouldn't that mean they would change the course of the day by staying at home and thus, avoid the accident?

She felt this was the solution. Finding an excuse to not go to the party, stay at home and be safe. Their lives were worth risking the friendship she had with Leah, which she didn't give much importance to, since the girls had had some issues on boys in high school.

"What are you thinking about, babe?" asked Victor while he was playing with his fingertips on her chest and abs, making her shiver.

"About the party."

"What about it?"

"We shouldn't go." Something stopped her from telling Victor the real reason. "I'm really not in the mood for that. I just want to spend the rest of the day at home, with you, eating crappy food and watching Netflix and maybe chill, you know what I mean?" She gave him a naughty smile, but deep in her heart, she had mixed feelings, not knowing how the day is going to unfold. She had to try to keep them both at shelter. It was the only thing to do for now.

"But babe, you've even bought a dress last week, especially for this event."

"I know, whatever. I'm gonna wear it on some other occasion. Please, baby, indulge me."

"As you wish, my love. She's your friend, it's your decision entirely. But she's going to be mad at you. What kind of excuse can you use to make her actually believe you?"

"I'm going to call her back in an hour and tell her that you've eaten some McDonald's in the morning and that you're now throwing up and you're very sick. And I can't leave you alone at home and go party by myself. Does it stand up?"

"Beautifully. But babe, do me a favor and change the brand. Stop messing with all the things I like!" Victor giggled.

6

Vivien used the fact that Victor was showering to call Leah, to announce her they weren't going to make it to the party. As Vivien expected, Leah didn't take it too well, but neither did she go off. That showed Vivien that Leah was the same she used to be in high school. Once she realized you won't meet her interests, she found a way to detach and mind her own business, leaving you behind. Vivien was ok with that. She had other problems to handle right now.

Hanging up, something on her screen caught her attention. It was her mailbox, with 2 messages from somebody calling himself "The Universe". Her hand started shaking as she was opening the e-mails.

E-MAIL 1

WELCOME

Dear Vivien,

I've got your letter. I know what Victor means to you and your desire was heard. Be careful, the journey may be dangerous, that's why, in order to fulfill your request, you must stay in contact with the messages I will keep sending to you and follow ALL the instructions. If you won't do so, you'll make Victor's rescue impossible and nature's order will step in. Remember, a balance must be kept.

First things you have to do is to accept the invitation to Leah's party and go. Keep your devices close to find the next step.

The Universe.

By the time she finished reading the first e-mail, which was sent at 9 am, probably when she and Victor were cuddling in bed, Vivien's whole body was shaking. She opened the second one, received a minute ago.

WARNING 1

Dear Vivien,

You haven't listened to the first instruction I gave you and you rejected Leah's invitation. By doing so, you did change the day's flow but the trouble is that your absence from the party does not change the day's ending, which has to contribute to maintaining the natural balance of the world. I suggest you not to swerve from my guidance from now on, or else your request would have been in vain.

Reply "yes" to this message to let me know you still want to continue with your plan and make the switch between you and Victor.

The Universe.

Vivien hit the reply button and looked at that blank space of the new message body. A feeling of hesitation started rooting in her soul as she was about to decide her own fate which was leading her to death. But it was him or her, wasn't it? Wasn't this the trade she'd made? The wish she's sent out, to bring Victor back and let him live? Why was it so difficult for her to type YES and keep moving? She took a few seconds to breathe and think it through and heard Victor singing in the bathroom. The sound of his voice gave her goosebumps and reminded her of the nights when he used to play the guitar for her. Only the two of them sharing a bottle of wine and a couple of love songs in the warmth of their home, this house that had been theirs since her mother decided to move out to Vivien's grandma, after the divorce. Their parents' divorce wasn't a hit for Vivien, who'd expected it for many years, ever since she became a teenager and started to understand how relationship between adults went and she knew that her father wasn't treating her mom the way he was supposed to. And that was the reason why her relationship with her dad wasn't a close one. Meeting Victor has helped her overcome a lot of her problems and demons and has created peace inside that home. She sniffled and sent the e-mail. A few seconds after, she received another one, which surprised her, for she thought no human being could have formed a reply within that short amount of time. The fear inside her grew bigger.

E-MAIL 3

GOOD

I can see that you made your choice. I'm glad we can proceed according to the plan.

Go downstairs to make lunch. A salesman will ring the doorbell in a few minutes. Open the door to him but don't buy anything. Let him leave.

That's all for now. Keep your phone close to you.

The Universe.

Vivien took a deep breath and did as she was asked. Victor joined her right when she was closing the door after the salesman. The girl tried to lock the door but it didn't work, like the system was blocked.

"Who was it?" asked Victor as he was coming down the stairs.

"Oh come on (still fighting with the lock)... It was just a sales agent, my love. Trying to make me buy their new type of vacuums. Damn it! Why is it not working?"

"Haha, baby... let me do it." Victor stepped in and tried as well. It was stuck, the door wouldn't close. He tried various times before giving in. "Ah, no big deal, I'll get a screw driver and fix this in no time."

Victor spent a couple of hours trying to fix the door lock while Vivien was fussing around with her phone in her hands, waiting for new instruction. No message so far.

"I'll just call the security firm and they will send somebody. We can't turn on the alarm because the door won't close. We definitely can't spend the night with doors open."

She went to the living room to look for the phone number through the bills and made the call. After 5 minutes, she returned with the hackles up and whistled through her teeth:

"We're done with them! We need to change the security firm."

"Why, babe, what did they tell you?" Victor was still very focused on his work, even though he made no progress.

"That idiot from customer support informed me that the locksmith on duty for this weekend wasn't able to go to work because one of his family members died and he's now at their funeral and he got the whole weekend off so we have to wait until Monday."

"Don't they have an emergency team?"

"They are short on staff. She told me everything I needed to know."

"My love, don't worry, I got this..." His proposition was cut by a sharp noise like something had broken and Victor picked up the door handle. He scratched his head. "Damn.."

"Oh, Jesus!"

"Don't worry babe, I'll get this fixed until the night comes. I promise you won't get to be a prey for the thieves."

"You can laugh all you want but an unprotected house is the perfect target for robbers. Come on, let's eat something. I'll make some pasta."

*

"I'll go out to search for a new lock. Um... This meat is amazing. You're a goddess."

Vivien blushed. Satisfying her man's stomach was one of her favorite things to do. She felt like her wife potential was revealed every time he made those kinds of remarks. A ding on her phone interrupted their enjoyment.

E-MAIL 4:

DON'T LET HIM OUT

Don't allow him to leave the house. He might be in danger outside.

The Universe.

Her bite fell from her fork and a thrill crossed her body. She tried to hide the reaction, but Victor's eyes were faster.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing... It's Kay. She wanted to know what time I'll be at Leah's tonight. Just told her we're not going anymore."

"Baby, if you want to go, you can tell me."

"No!" Her voice sounded more like a yelling. "I mean, I really don't want that. Let's just not leave the house, fuck the door lock. Nothing is going to happen. We can secure the door with a wooden board and some nails, later in the evening. And we'll be fine."

Victor held her gaze as if he was trying to find out what Vivien was hiding, but then returned to his pasta plate and said:

"If I didn't know you and what a lazy, suffocating ass you can be sometimes, I'd say you're acting very very weird."

"I just want some time off with you. Haven't had that in a while. You know I can't stand when other things interrupt our time together. I'm not going to let the stupid door lock ruin my day with you."

"You're very loving today."

"Yeah, I think it's the PMS" Her grin held back her laughter. "I'm joking, hahaha!"

7

They watched Netflix all day, eating popcorn and marshmallows, with their feet up on the coffee table, they kissed, made out, took a romantic bath together and made love in the bath tub. It would've been like a honeymoon, hadn't it been for the ultimatum of the situation and Vivien's concern about her own programmed death. She had let herself sink into her reunion with Victor that she forgot about trying to find a solution to her problem. However, the matter was still present, like a bug in the back of her mind. She checked her phone for new e-mails every couple of minutes, which made Victor ask her many times:

"Are you having a secret admirer that's texting you massively today?"

"Haha, no! Kay is just keeping me up-to-date with Leah's party." Vivien didn't know what to come up with for those kind of questions that Victor kept asking, so she referred to Leah almost all the time, making him believe she was feeling guilty for declining the invitation.

"So, are they having the time of their lives? Did we miss that once-in-a-lifetime kind of party?" he asked her while he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, displaying an easy smile. He knew the immediate effect those stimuli had on her. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm partying so much better right here, with you." He pulled her into a kiss but he could tell that Vivien was not providing him with the same implication. "Viv, what's the matter? I can feel there's something wrong with you."

Vivien sighed and looked out the window. It was getting dark outside. Her time was running out and her anxiety was now harder to hide. But she couldn't tell Victor that she had made a trade with the Universe and chose to die in order to save his life, could she? She felt like a coward. She felt she didn't deserve the man that was holding her in that moment, the man that was earlier on that door lock, trying to fix it for her safety, those deep blue eyes that were staring at her with so much love and those hands, always ready to pick her up when she'd fall.

The ringtone of her cell made her quiver before she could answer Victor.

"It's my mom, let me take this." she told him. "Hi, mom! [...] What? Oh my goodness... But how did that happen? [...] All of a sudden? [...] Okay, Okay, calm down. I'll be right there! Bye, bye."

Vivien was already crying. She put her phone down and raised one hand to cover her mouth before breaking down. Victor was there in a second, preventing her from falling on the floor.

"My love, what is it??"

Between sobs, Vivien told him the reason her mother called. Her grandmother had a heart attack and she could risk another anytime. Her mom didn't have a car to take her to the hospital and the ambulance was running late.

"Mom said she's unstable. I can't waste any minute!"

"Oh my God...Okay, okay, let me get the car keys and we leave." He sprung upstairs and right then, Vivien has got a new e-mail saying:

FINAL COUNTDOWN

Dear Vivien,

The day is almost through. You've come a long way. In order to complete your mission, you must travel to your mother's ALONE. It's not by accident that the door lock has broken. He needs TO STAY and you have TO GO.

Don't fear anything.

The Universe.

Vivien fell on her knees and a powerful scream escaped from her lungs, causing Victor to come down in a jump. Despair and fear of death took over her as she was lying on the kitchen's floor. Her hands were grazing the floor tiles in search for the time she ran out of. Victor grabbed her as grabbing a feather and laid her on the sofa, in the living room. The girl was still weeping, both of her hands covering her face. He pulled them aside and placed his instead, trying to make her look at him. He felt there was something that Vivien was not telling him.

"Vivien!! You scare me! Please... Talk to me!"

She made heroic efforts to calm down her crying before spluttering a few words. That was the moment she knew she couldn't bear it anymore. She had to share everything with her man. She realized her limits and she disappointed herself. The situation seemed to have gotten out of her hands and this was the critical point. She caught her breath and tried pull herself together.

"Victor... I love you so much..." she burst into tears again, like a storm striking for a second time. "I just... I can't... I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die..."

"What are you talking about?! Be clearer, please! I can't help you unless you tell me everything!"

"I did something I'm not proud of. I thought I was capable to complete the task, but I'm not! I'm a shame, but I don't want to die!

Then she narrated the whole story to Victor, showed him all the messages from The Universe and confessed on her weakness and fear of death. The sound of her footsteps was filling the room, not sparing a single corner, while Victor was sitting down at the coffee table, looking straight ahead, listening, trying to absorb the information and to make connections. Even though at first sight, it all seemed a bad joke, his intuition made him consider the facts. The evidence that Vivien presented was standing up. The rejection to Leah's event and the warning she'd received right after, the door lock breaking, the last e-mail that she got after her mother's call. He didn't know who The Universe was, but he could smell the risk.

Vivien told him the time was up and she had to make a decision really fast. No solution seemed to be the right one, since one of them died, whatever she chose.

"I've never meant to put you in danger. Or send you to death. I feel like all this happened out of my fault! Victor... I'm scared..."

He looked up at where she stood, on her feet, with her arms hanging from her body; she looked lost and hopeless. Nonetheless, in his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Let me get the whole picture. So, basically, I died on the way back home from Leah's party." Vivien nodded. "And the witch lady told you that a certain balance of the universe must be kept, so I can't live as long as you breathe." Vivien nodded once more. "Hell, Vivien... it's all clear to me. If I'm getting everything right, I was the one meant to die from the beginning. Which would make your sacrifice foolish."

"Victor..."

"Listen to me." He stood up and walked the distance between them. "You WILL NOT get out of the house without me. I won't leave you alone. And I don't care what that means to the fucking universe."

Even though the story would have sounded like a subject for a fantasy novel to someone else's ears, he knew his girlfriend wasn't crazy. He has seen the truth in her eyes, in her misery and the guilt she had on her shoulders. They found themselves stuck in this maze and he understood that it was his turn to make the next move.

With his mind made up, he took her by the hand, heading to the front door.

"I don't care about The Universe, or God, or anything else if I don't have you. If we're going to die, we might as well die together."

8

They had a thirty minutes car ride until grandma's place. Victor was driving and the frown on his forehead was from the concentration to keep them both safe and to make it to Vivien's grandmother. He could hear Vivien sniffle every other minute and even though he couldn't see her because of the poor lighting in the car, he was convinced she didn't stop crying. Vivien, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about Victor dying any minute and her feeling of guilt.

"I don't even know why we're going anyway..." said Vivien.

"Would staying at home have changed the ending?" asked Victor, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"No. But I do hope to see my grandma first. I'm praying for it."

"Do you think she's gonna get through tonight?"

"I don't know. Grandma has always had an unstable condition, ever since mom separated from dad. Divorce has been a curse for the women in our family and grandma was the most affected. Mom told me that when grandpa left her, her heart got sick, and when my father broke up with mom, the problems increased. She's been on medication and under strict surveillance ever since. I remember when I was a child, she always told me she was praying for me to find a good and loyal man to spend my whole life with."

Vivien couldn't continue because of the lump in her throat, but she reached for Victor's hand instead, which was resting on the gearshift, as her eyes were drowning in salty waves.

"I love you, Vivien."

She couldn't control her convulsions and her sobbing, the more she realized how close the end was. Victor went on:

"Promise me one thing. Promise me that you'll live. And that you won't feel guilty. It was not your life to be taken in the first place. It was mine. And I would've never let you die for me. Not in this life, nor another. Vivien, wipe your tears and try to see me clearly for a couple of seconds." She obeyed and filled her lungs with air to stop her tears, and looked him in the eyes, felling like she could collapse any moment. "I love you. Soul mates always find each other. Live. We are not saying goodbye."

The moment Vivien and Victor turned their eyes back to the road, a pair of headlights blinded them, but they knew it was too late to avoid the impact. Vivien had the exact same feeling she'd had the first time of the accident, her body being carried away, like in a carousel or a washing machine, followed by another impact that stopped all motion and made everything go black.

9

A year and four months later

"Happy birthday, sweetieee!!" Kay's voice made Vivien cover her years for protection before grabbing the ribboned box handed to her. She often forgot how enthusiastic and overwhelming her friend could get sometimes.

"Thanks, Kay!" replied Vivien, giving her a hug. "I'm so happy you're here, come in! Stephanie and Jonah are on the way too. The rest are already in the back yard!

Kay rolled her eyes: "Of courrseee those two are always the last ones!" She took her jacket off and headed to the kitchen, from where they could get to the back yard. Vivien's mom, Lori was preparing the meat for the grill when Kay entered the room.

"Lori!! How are you? I'm so glad to see you, how's Madeleine?"

"Oh, dear, she's okay, she has recovered well from her last heart attack and she's doing as fine as she can, given her age and her condition. I'm returning tomorrow to check on her. But today I'm here. I couldn't miss my baby's birthday, could I?"

"How time flies! How you feeling at 25, Mrs. Hayes?"

"Haha, Kay, very funny! Actually I'm feeling very young and renewed. Time has no effect on me! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to check if Mark is handling the grill fire. We don't want our meat to be extra well done aka burnt, do we?" Vivien left the kitchen almost jumping, leaving Kay and Lori alone.

"How did she feel today?" asked Kay.

"She's the same as you've known her over the last year. Still doesn't remember anything."

"I still cannot decide if that's the worst or the best thing that could've happened to her, after losing Victor in the accident."

"Well, the doctors advised us not to bring anything into discussion unless she starts remembering on her own. The subject is so delicate and traumatic that, brought up under no qualified guidance, she could suffer severely and we're trying to avoid any kind of emotional shock."

"My God... knowing how much she loved him... she wouldn't survive the pain."

"That's why I chose to let her have a new beginning. She's slowly recovered you, her friends, and now she's trying to build her life from the scratch. It's a lot already."

"Does she remember you?"

"No, but she's learnt to trust me and we're getting closer every day."

"Lori, I'm so sorry..."

"I'm simply glad that she's alive. She's my baby girl, no matter what."

"Hey, you two! Less talking, more seasoning! The meat ain't going to put the condiments on itself!" Vivien returned to the kitchen to get some ceramic bowls when the doorbell rang. "I'll get it."

Vivien opened the door to her friends Stephanie and Jonah who greeter her with the same happiness as Kay, but without the sharp voice and the volume to disturb the entire neighborhood.

"Happy birthday, Viv! We wish you all the happiness and wealth in the world! I hope you don't mind but Jonah's cousin, Noah, came in town for a few days and we didn't want to leave him home alone. Besides, he's a musician and we thought you might like some live songs on your birthday, as a gift from us! What do you say, is it ok if he stays?"

"Steph, why are you asking? All your friends are my friends too! Get him in here!"

Stephanie waved at Noah who was waiting in the car. He grabbed his guitar and made his way to the house.

The atmosphere was joyful and Vivien felt content. Even though she knew she's gone through an accident that got her amnesia and as much as she tried, she couldn't remember anything before it, these people celebrating with her today felt like a family. The food was finger-licking-good, signs that her mother and Mark had made a great team and Kay made sure the vibes were up all the time, making everyone laugh with her jokes and anecdotes. After blowing the candles and cutting the cake, Noah invited everyone to have a seat and started playing a love song, that, according to his saying, was written by him.

The guitar chords were mixing and gliding into a bitter sweet harmony and the words that followed completed the melody with meaning:

Soul mates always find each other

We are not saying goodbye

In this life or in another

We'll meet again and we'll fly...

The message of the song made Vivien shed some tears but at the same time, her soul had never felt more free, happy and hopeful.

THE END
the Author's message

Thank you for staying with me up to this point! It makes me really happy that Vivien's story made its way to your heart (or caught your attention, at least ) I'd be very pleased to know how it made you feel, so here's my e-mail address: contact@iuliaradu.com.

Hoping to hear from you soon!

Iulia.
