He studied the part of the ship he could see; everything was topsy-turvy. Somehow the restraints had broken. He was floating.
Not again, not when I’ve finally—
The star’s light blinded him. The ship was in orbit inside the ring, spinning lazily on its axis like a top spinner.
But the view was beautiful.
In the distance, streaks of color lit up the ring. Red, blue—a multitude of fighters lighting the void. That was also a breathtaking display. Simon laughed. Now that he thought about it, what effect did they have at this distance?
It was like watching ants picking fights with an anteater. Even though he knew the Crows would inevitably lose, they were putting up a pretty fantastic fight. As far as he could tell through the spinning, two dozen slivers ran through the front lines, chasing the navy blue fighters, forcing them to retreat.
How long could they keep this up?
Simon wondered how they were winning at all.
Tearing his attention away from the battle, he gazed longingly at Arcadia.
Why couldn’t he go home?
He couldn’t dwell on that for much longer, considering the state he was in.
Floating in space was difficult enough. Having a spaceship drifting in the middle of a planetary ring was even harder to grasp. And yet, that was the situation he found himself in. After watching the spectacle for a few minutes, he’d begun to get—for lack of a better term—bored. What was he supposed to do now? His ship wasn’t working; everything but life support was offline! He was even beginning to wonder how long that would keep him alive.
Every now and again Simon caught himself dozing. How long had it been since he had last done that? How—
Another silver blur, drifting. Blue glinted off of it. On closer inspection, he saw—
No…. it wasn’t. This wasn’t a Crow.
This was—
“He…llo?”
Tears ran down his cheeks.
Cynthia.
She was here.
…How? How could she be here? Had she been shipped out? Or had she already… known…?
“Hello?” The voice clearer, more defined.
It was definitely her.
His throat constricted, even as he tried to reply. It came out as a tear-stricken gurgle, but it was there.
“Cynthia.”
The comms were quiet.
Then finally, “Simon.” She was just as shocked as he was. “How—”
“I got lost, I guess,” he replied. “You?”
“We—the ship was attacked.” Another small pause. “Simon—”
“Crows. I know.”
“Yeah….”
The connection cut without warning, leaving only static.
What?
A shockwave blew across the battlefield, pushing everyone and everything outward and away from its center. It destabilized Simon’s orbit and sent him crashing into several more asteroids, bouncing off of them like a pinball. Soon, he was deflected out of the ring.
As if he had been plucked from the pan and into the fire.
Stray shots ripped by, some dangerously close, but he was helpless, his systems unable to stop them. Some of the silver specks evaded the oncoming fire, slingshotting the distance to the enemy by using the planet’s gravity. Simon was a pebble alongside boulders. The battle was too grand a scale to easily comprehend.
Almost like that day.
‘Simon, what would you say if I told you a secret?’
‘About what—Oh.’
Cynthia stared at him. ‘So?’
He nodded.
‘Come then, join me.’
He had avoided crossfire on his way down. He knew the course, and yet couldn’t believe it. Somehow, he was going home. Even though his mind was concentrated on jump starting the systems, his heart… his heart was….
“Yes!” He cried at the sight. The ship’s defenses were up. Then he was hit, and the blast nearly fried the shield.
Simon pressed on.
‘So, what is it?’
‘Not yet.’
The ship still wasn’t operational. He was a sitting duck. The shield wouldn’t hold for very long. At this rate….
He stopped to reassess. When he listened, it was quiet. No alarms. Funny, how that went.
He went back to fixing the next critical system.
Arcadia was full above him. A clouded grey world, blighted by horror and atrocity. No wonder this place wasn’t on any maps; no one would want to be here. It was sad to see.
He had once lived there. Countless times he’d imagined being home, but seeing it like this….
Why would anyone want to destroy it? Was it the crystals, or the Ranger they had found? What…?
Simon stopped himself. The flight control had lit up. It was back online.
Perfect.
He looked up to find the area ablaze.
It was an illusion, he would learn later. A lingering effect of piloting paired to a psychic AI—but it felt so real. He saw all of space burning in front of him. Burning him. It burned his nostrils and the smell of smoldering flesh choked him. He was panic-stricken. It began to fade, slowly. When it was over it left him with the vague scent of sulfur.
It was a horrible vision.
With the controls restarted, he finally had a chance to escape. But his eyes were still scanning for the drifting debris.
Where was she?
The vastness of space, illuminated only by the bluish light of a star and the grayish atmosphere of a dead world wasn’t very enlightening. Even the flashes of bolts didn’t faze him anymore, but….
He didn’t see her anywhere.
Apparently, he was losing his sense of time as well.
Why was that, exactly?
Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed anything until he stopped and peered at the viewscreen.
The bolts had stopped.
He blinked. Was he seeing this correctly? His eyes moved across the battlefield. No, they hadn’t stopped. Something was—
An immense flash of startlingly white light nearly blinded him. When it dissipated, he saw half of the Crows’ ships drifting. An EMP? Why hadn’t they used it earlier?
The Alliance picked off the drifters in a mass attack. It was only then that he caught a dull blue gleam out there in a close orbit. It winked in the light, and Simon typed in the coordinates. He zoomed in on the anomaly.
It was… a head?
Simon chuckled as his anxiousness was wiped away.
He’d found her.
Unsurprisingly, right in the middle of the action.
By the time he reached her, she was nearly gone. Her craft was smashed and completely offline, by the looks of it. It no longer shimmered with a blue glow.
Simon tried the shortwave comms. “Cynthia?” No reply. He tried again. “Cynthia, are you there?” There was a small crackle of static, but nothing more. But—
“I’m here.”
He sighed with relief.
He pressed a button in the center of the console. “Listen, I’ve decided something. Something I should tell you now.” He paused to take a breath. “I’m not leaving without you.”
Another bout of silence.
‘Not yet.’
‘But soon?’
She nodded.
“I already knew that,” she laughed. “But how do you plan on getting me out of here?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
She stopped. “So, tell me. Do you even have a plan?”
“Well….”
“So that’s a no, then?”
Simon was silent this time.
“I thought so.” The communications ceased.
Simon waited. ‘Now?’
‘No, not now.’
When he finished typing, he sent another comm.
“Ready.”
“For what?” she asked him as if she was expecting an answer.
“I’ve called it Our Escape Plan.”
&nbs
p; “Catchy name.”
“Well,” he replied as he readied the coil, “it’s not exactly the best of plans, so….”
“I see.”
He completed the setup. “You ready?”
“Of course I am.”
“Okay then.” Simon pressed the button a second time, and coils sprang out of their sockets, wrapping around the head.
“Are you a tow truck now?”
“Tow truck?”
“Never mind.”
“Hmph.”
She laughed. “Now who’s acting like a girl?”
“I’m not. Are you?”
“No.”
“Well then, it’s settled.” He focused on tightening the coils. An alarm popped up, but he ignored it; he still had to secure her.
“Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you remember me?”
He stopped.
“We’re not dying, you know. But to answer your question, yes, of course I will. You know that better than I do myself.”
“Thank you for that.”
He had to keep her calm. He had to keep himself calm. If that didn’t work out….
The cords were secured.
They were ready.
“All done there?” Cynthia asked, slightly impatient.
“Just about,” Simon replied.
An alarm alerted him again, but he didn’t have a chance to see what the problem was. Another EMP flashed, knocking them toward the planet. The cords tangled around each other, whipping the two craft around in space. Stray bolts began to flash around them again. Dazed, he saw the Crows give chase.
Why now? He thought vaguely.
They entered the gray-tinged atmosphere within a few moments. Higher up, it was almost normal, an azure sky.
The friction generated by their atmospheric entry made both craft appear to be burning like meteors.
They pierced the cloud layer that wrapped Arcadia like a shroud.
‘Can’t you tell me now?’
She looked at him, quite annoyed, but her eyes were twinkling.
‘Fine,’ she said.
Even so, the sunrise was—
She looked at him, dead serious, and then she smiled. A huge grin.
‘I—’
He broke.
Chapter XXIII
Spring’s Melody
The scent of flowers woke him. He found himself slumped against the coarse bark of a tree. Sunlight sparkled like diamonds through the swaying leaves. For a moment, he was dazed, befuddled. How had he ended up here, and, more importantly, where was he?
He sat up groggily, feeling the windswept grass crunching beneath him. He shivered. Why was it so cold? He looked toward the horizon, his violet eyes shimmering with fascination.
A pink sky on the precipice of daybreak.
Well, it wasn’t pink, exactly. There was purple too. And blue, and black as well. They were all swirling around just above the horizon. Wisps of cloud twisted and merged, rolling together as if they were waves in an ocean. He could make out stars beyond the horizon.
A small blue sun arrived, spreading its light over the land.
The leaves quivered and shook, sometimes falling from the branches to settle on the forest-green grass.
He smiled at them, though he didn’t know why.
He was about leave when he felt something heavy leaning on him. He looked down at a figure covered in leaves. Red hair protruded from the clump. He brushed the leaves away.
The pile rustled and emerald eyes looked up at him.
Then, the girl was smiling and holding out her hand to him. He took it reluctantly, and the memories came rushing back. Everything from the past five years returned in a tsunami of memories.
He reeled and pulled away, earning a puzzled expression from the girl. She reached out again, but he continued back away, as if she were carrying a plague.
Why? Why was he backing away from her? His feet felt heavy, like lead. Blood rushed to his ears. His legs were no longer responding. He panicked as she came closer. Pebbles crunched underfoot. Blades of grass whistled. Or was it the wind? He couldn’t tell. He—
“Simon!” A scream.
The pink sky embraced him. He felt weight pulling him down. He reached for anything, but found nothing but air. He could clearly see the blue sun being covered by a cloud and he closed his eyes tight.
Even in this state, he knew he was falling.
And then his body stopped abruptly, barely missing the jagged cliffside. Simon scarcely registered that fact, for when looked up, he saw her. Her hand grasped his, struggling to pull him up.
He watched for a moment, amazed.
It was the same as before.
Before long, reality took hold. He found himself grabbing hold of the cliffside, struggling to make his way back toward the summit, Cynthia helping him all the way.
When he crawled up and over the side back onto the grass, she was there, waiting for him. As he began to move toward her, she smiled, and time ceased. Everything became monochrome. The wind stilled, and the sun’s light never shone.
“You should know by now, right?” It came out barely a whisper.
“Know what?” He stared at her.
She swept her arms around the cliff. Her next words came with an almost apologetic nod. “That this is all a dream.”
A dream…? No, this was real. All of it. But doubt had risen, acidic in his stomach and throat. Even though he wanted this reality to be true….
He fell to the ground, his head in his hands.
All he wanted to do was….
“Simon.” He lifted his hands. She was there, crouching next to him, waiting, it seemed. For what? If this was all a dream, then why didn’t they just wake up. Why—
“We still have business to sort out, though, don’t we?”
Business? She was being vague, as usual.
Cynthia stood, but this time, as herself. Not as the girl he once knew, but as someone different. Her hair was shorter, cut off at the shoulder. She was dressed in her pilot’s suit. Even though she looked much stronger than before, her complexion was anemic and pale. And her eyes… instead of the brilliant emerald, they were sunken and entirely crimson.
She was miserable.
And he, well…
Perhaps he was too.
But still, if he could see her one last time, then….
Standing, he took a step forward, and another. He soon picked up speed. When he reached her, he embraced her.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He was crying. Soon they would be back. The cold reality of it was clear in his voice. He knew now that there was no turning back, that this, most likely, was goodbye.
“I know. I know… it’s…it’s… all right.” Tears fell down her cheeks as well.
He wiped away his own tears, and stepped back. What a mistake he had made.
No….
She was fading away. A translucent spirit.
Cynthia? He reached out for her, and found nothing.
Looking back, what a fool he had been. Searching for her though she was right next to him the entire time. He had been blind. So blind.
But just the fact that she was already fading from him told him the answer: he had made the mistake.
Simon reached out for her once again, still touching nothing.
He darted forward frantically, tripping and crashing to the ground.
He’d lost her.
When he opened his eyes again, he was lying under that tree again. Everything was the same. When he looked down, a patch of leaves and red hair on his lap again. Dawn was upon them for a second time.
Was this yet another dream? Or was this his mind cutting its losses? Whichever it was, he had to find… something. His memory from before was muddled, even if it remembered the previous dream. It was… what did people call it… a Groundhog’s Day? No… that couldn’t be it.
A rustle beneath the leaves, again, a pair of emerald staring up at him.
&n
bsp; Was he bound to go through this nightmare again?
No, he wouldn’t. He would stop this.
“Simon?”
He looked down at the leaves. She sat up, staring at him. At least this was different, right?
“Simon?” she repeated.
“Cyn…thia?” At least, that’s what he hoped. What was he supposed to do in this situation? How would he right this?
So, he waited for a response.
Several minutes passed, but all he saw was her staring at him, gazing into his soul. It became unbearable, and when he was about to speak, she piped up, “I….” She started again. “I….”
And then she stood, shaking off the leaves. “It’s funny… I can’t remember what I wanted to tell you.”
What?
She turned. “Do you?”
I… I don’t.
Cynthia laughed. “That face.”
“What about it?”
She smiled. “You’re thinking pretty hard about that, aren’t you?”
“About what?” He’d forgotten their conversation already.
He wished he could remember this time. The time of their dreams. Of course, the first time through he did, but now it just kept slipping away. Maybe it was a sign he was waking up. Or….
Simon found himself standing, and everything but Cynthia washed away. The background seemed bleached, but his vision had sharpened. He only saw her.
His legs wouldn’t move forward. He was stuck, but she didn’t have that limitation. Slowly, gracefully, Cynthia walked over to him, once again fading before his very eyes.
No… not again.
He looked pained, for as she stopped near him, she had the same expression: taut cheeks, drawn lips, a frightened-out-of-your-mind type of glint in her eyes.
He knew right then and there that she was going to leave. Wait, please! The words formed on his lips, although nothing came out, just a few mindless grunts. She was translucent.
And…
It was time.
“Don’t be scared.” It was more to herself than him. “Don’t be scared, I won’t be far. You know that, don’t you?”
Simon struggled against his unseen restraints. You’ll be dead! We both know that! You….
He hung his head. Suddenly, the bindings released him, dropping him to the ground.
Hope in Paradise Page 19