by Nathan Jones
He fervently hoped she would; after losing Eva he wasn't sure he could bear to lose the woman he loved, too.
He stayed with Lady through most of the trip, the mastiff plopped down across his lap while he absently scratched her behind the ears and around the neck. And while the company of his faithful friend was comforting, he still felt terribly alone and vulnerable during the long hours to Rykos 5.
He'd planned to live a life without companions when he reached Earth, he just hadn't expected it to begin so soon. He missed Eva and mourned the fact that she'd probably wiped her own memory by now, as well as all her backups along with the rest of his estate's archives.
And while Loran had ultimately betrayed him, the house companion had been a faithful caretaker, guardian, and friend for almost two decades. Even in the end he'd just been trying to do what he thought was best for Tycho.
But they were gone, now, and aside from a vindictive pilot AI that delighted in his suffering he was all alone in the universe. Aside from Lady, of course.
And hopefully Callista.
His nervousness only increased by the hour as they traveled, wondering if the woman he loved would even be willing to talk to him, let alone agree to leave her life and come to Earth with him. It seemed insane to even ask her, but he had to try.
As Pilot brought the ship down on Callista's landing pad Tycho secured Lady in her traveling compartment, then made his way to the top of the ramp as it began to descend. To his disappointment he saw that the silvery-haired woman wasn't waiting for him like she usually was.
Instead Bruce stood there with his arms crossed. “It's most impolite to come without scheduling in advance or even informing us of it,” the companion said, stern and forbidding. “Especially since Miss Ensom has made it clear she doesn't wish you to visit her anymore.”
Tycho eyed Bruce warily. The adult companion had never been particularly warm towards him; his loyalty was to Callista, where it should be, but it meant he would almost certainly try to restrain Tycho if he found out what he planned.
Just like Loran had. He was still shaken by that betrayal of a companion that had been with him since he was a child, and now found himself afraid other companions would similarly turn on him.
“I don't mean to put Callista on the spot,” he said placatingly. “But this might be my last chance to speak to her before I go somewhere far away where communication is impossible, and I probably won't be coming back. Ask her if she'll consider letting me at least have a few minutes.”
There. That should get the message across without providing too many suspicious details, and it was all the perfect truth. That was important since companions were foolproof lie detectors, able to sense the most minute microexpressions, changes to a person's heartbeat, body temperature, vocal inflections, and speech patterns, and other indicators of deception.
As a mischievous kid that trait in his caretakers had driven him insane.
Bruce blinked at this announcement. “This is . . . unexpected news. One moment.” He turned and hurried into Callista's estate.
That didn't leave much for Tycho to do aside from stand around waiting, wondering whether his last ditch chance to be with the woman he loved was going to end with him simply being told to leave without ever getting a chance to see her at all.
But to his relief after almost fifteen minutes the companion returned and motioned curtly. “She'll see you.”
Tycho followed him inside to Callista's living room. She was curled up on her chair in a thick, soft robe, smoky eyes staring at him inscrutably through thick eyelashes. She motioned to his usual seat, speaking as he settled in. “What's going on, Tych?”
It was too painful to look at the silvery-haired woman while saying what he had to say. He settled his head into his hands, staring down at the floor and searching for the right words. “Did you know companions were originally created with the intent to help increasingly isolated humans learn the interpersonal skills they needed to have positive interactions with each other?”
“Isn't that still what they do?” Callista asked, tone wary.
“Of course.” Tycho sighed. “But somehow along the way their purpose changed from helping us prepare for human interaction to replacing it all together. Probably inevitable, since they're so much more convenient and less physically and emotionally risky. But I wonder if their creators knew their creations would eventually become the biggest barrier to what they'd intended.”
Callista was quiet for a long time, and his discomfort increased. He desperately wanted to look at her, etch every detail of her into his memory before he might have to say goodbye forever. But he couldn't bring himself to.
“Tycho, why are you here?” she finally asked. “Why did Bruce say you were leaving and never returning?”
Tycho hesitated, gathering his courage. “I'm going to Earth,” he announced in a rush. “Come with me.”
Callista froze, smoky eyes going huge with shock. “What?”
He leaned forward earnestly. “I've recently lost all reason to stay in my current life, in our rather huge corner of the universe. All reason but you, but I'm not sure what we even have anymore.” He held out his hand. “Come to Earth with me. Let's live life the way humans were meant to.”
He expected her to protest about all the problems with the forgotten colony, the reasons she'd stated before that made her view it less charitably than he did. But she simply stared at him for a long time, until he was shifting uncomfortably under her piercing gaze. He let his hand slowly drop, and still she didn't speak.
“I don't understand you, Tych!” Callista finally burst out. “You live in a universe-spanning society where all humanity's problems, both cultural and personal, have been solved. You can do anything, be anything, experience anything you want to experience. You can have whatever you want, go wherever you want, have every desire fulfilled. How is that not enough?”
“I don't know, but it isn't,” Tycho said simply. “You're the last thing keeping me here.”
“So why Earth, then?” she demanded. “And don't tell me that nonsense about real human interaction . . . the only interactions you'll get there are being robbed, beaten up, and murdered! Is this some desire to be a high tech god among savages?”
Tycho flushed at the unfair accusation. “I spearheaded the initiative to leave them alone, free to develop, I want to preserve that . . . I'm not bringing any technology at all, or introducing any. I won't give them any knowledge they don't already know, or even tell anyone I'm not an Earth-born human.”
“Then it's culture you want to bring them?” she persisted. “Teach the barbarians the error of their ways?”
He leaned back, hurt. “Earth is what I've been looking for without even realizing it, Calli. It's what I've been missing in my life. I want to go there because I feel like it's where I belong.”
Callista's rigidly controlled emotions abruptly cracked, and he saw a brief hint of deep hurt in her beautiful eyes. “And you don't feel like you belong here, with me?”
The words took his breath away. He hadn't even considered that as an option, probably because aside from custodial parents with young children no humans had lived together for thousands of years. “You pushed me away,” he protested.
“So you decided to run the opposite direction, to Earth of all places?” the silvery-haired woman snapped. She pulled her knees up to her chin, the hurt back in her expression. “I guess it was right to not risk being with you.”
Tycho stared at her helplessly. “Calli . . .” He saw her harsh expression soften slightly and continued hopefully. “You know me better than anyone. You of all people should understand.”
Callista took a slow, deep breath. “I do know you, Tycho,” she whispered. “That's why I suppose I'm not really surprised you want to go to Earth. Somehow I always felt you'd find your way there.”
“Will you come with me?” he asked again.
She closed her eyes, and to his surprise a tear slipped free and slid do
wn her cheek. “No, Tych. No, of course not. You know how much I loathe that place. I couldn't bear to be there, not even for you.”
He looked at the woman he loved, so beautiful and vulnerable, and suddenly wondered why the newly discovered world had been his choice to flee to, rather than trying harder with Callista. “I'll stay here if you want me,” he offered.
She shook her head, almost violently. “I think it's pretty safe to say at this point we'd both just end up miserable if you did. You were right to decide on Earth . . . I think it's the only place where you can be happy.”
That seemed to be that. Tycho tried to think of anything else to say, any other option, any way he could convince her. Then with a sigh he stood. “Goodbye, Calli. I'll never forget you.”
He started for the door, but before he'd gone halfway he felt soft arms slip around his waist, a soft body pressing against his back, and an intoxicating hint of her perfume. He stopped, stunned, and slowly turned in Callista's arms to stare down at her.
“What-” he began.
She silenced him with a soft kiss, looking up at him with an odd expression he couldn't read. “You'll never know what you meant to me,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “If I have to say goodbye to you, if I'm never going to see you again, then I want to be with you at least once.”
A strange thrill passed through him, longing and loss mingled together. “Why?” he croaked.
“Because even though you're a hopeless romantic and infuriatingly idealistic and you can't seem to take a hint, I still want you.” Callista slipped past him, taking his hand and tugging on it to lead him to the door. When he hesitated she looked back, beautiful eyes fierce. “Please, Tycho. Let my last memory of you be a good one.”
Wasn't this what he'd wanted? The prospect seemed painful rather than pleasant, maybe because it came with the prospect of losing the woman he loved forever.
But she was right; he wanted his last memory of her to be a good one. Something to treasure on the harsh world he was going to, fraught with peril as well as opportunity.
So he pulled her back to him and swept her up into his arms, leaning down to kiss her softly but passionately as he carried her to her room.
* * * * *
After being with Callista in full immersion, being with her in real life somehow felt familiar and yet completely new at the same time. He didn't know how to describe it, wasn't sure that was even possible, but if he had to try he'd say it was the exact opposite of going through a spacetime rift.
But whatever it was, it was too precious to put into words.
Their first and last time together turned out to be much longer than Tycho had expected. He was reluctant to leave Callista's bed, and she was reluctant to see him go, and so they stayed together there for hours as their passion waned and ebbed.
But finally the woman he loved fell asleep in his arms, cuddling with her back pressed against his chest, and he decided with a deep pang of regret that it was time to go. Callista had asked him to make her last memory of him a good one, and saying goodbye would be painful for them both.
Better to have her wake to him gone, with the memory of their time together to carry with her.
So Tycho carefully eased away, more adroitly than he had on his last attempt. She didn't so much as shift and her breathing remained the same as he slipped off the bed, gathered up his clothes, and made his way to the door.
But once he reached it he paused and looked back at the sleeping woman lying faced away from him, her silvery hair making a fan across her pillow. She seemed the very definition of beauty and love, and the pain of losing her nearly overwhelmed him.
This was what he'd been missing all along, wasn't it? He was about to go to a barbaric place where he might be killed at any moment, all for the chance of finding the fulfillment he'd been missing in his life.
But wasn't his relationship with Callista the exact thing he'd been hoping to find there anyway? A real connection with another human being, a chance to start a family like those he'd seen on Earth. To raise a child with love and affection from both parents so he or she could learn that humans weren't just isolated creatures meant to live in solitary palaces with only companions as company.
Why go to some distant planet, leave all the good of his current life, to take a risk like that when he'd already found what he was looking for?
“If you come back to bed you'll never leave,” Callista said, back still to him.
Tycho jumped at her voice. She sounded alert, as if she'd been awake. And she might as well have been reading his thoughts just then. “Maybe I don't want to,” he said, stepping closer.
The silvery-haired woman rolled over to look at him, and with a start he saw her eyes were red and her cheeks damp with tears. “No, Tych,” she said so quietly he barely heard her. “I think what you really want is on that planet you fought so hard to isolate. And I think you won't find it here with me for the same reason I can't bring myself to go with you to that place.”
He took another step forward. “Tonight-”
“I've had dozens of “tonights” with other people!” she snapped. “That doesn't give it meaning. It doesn't mean I can offer you what you need.”
Tycho finally stopped, stung. “What we had was special. Is special.”
“Just go!” Callista snapped. She turned away, shoulders shaking in a silent sob. “Go to your new life, Tycho. And be happy there.”
Tycho stood there, heart breaking. “Can I ask you for one last thing, then?” he said quietly.
The woman he loved made a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “All things considered I should probably ask what it is first.”
He gave her back a pained smile. “Lady.”
Callista slowly turned again, looking at him tearfully. “She's with you?”
Tycho nodded. “She . . . couldn't stay at my estate. I was going to bring her to Earth, but the more I think of it the worse that idea seems.”
“Well no wonder. She's an entirely different breed than any dog there. They'd probably try to dissect her to find out where she came from or something, find out she's an extraterrestrial dog. Then so much for not disrupting their cultures.”
He winced; he hadn't considered that. He'd been thinking more along the lines of not wanting to bring his faithful friend to a place of danger where she might get hurt. He'd already failed Laird, he couldn't fail her too. “Princess could use a friend, right?”
Callista gave another sobbing laugh. “Of course I'll take care of her, silly. How could I do anything else for such a dear friend? Just give her to Bruce, I'll make sure she has a happy life.”
“Thank you.” Tycho looked away, irritated at the tears once again pricking his eyes. “Goodbye, Calli.”
“Have a happy life on Earth, Tych,” she said, turning away a final time.
He looked at her for a few more seconds, holding the image of her to remember for the rest of his life, then left.
Bruce was waiting to take him to his ship, thankfully without saying a word about what he intended, let alone trying to stop him. Tycho left him at the bottom of the ramp and went to fetch Lady.
“You're going to be living with Callista and Princess, now,” he said, giving the faithful mastiff one last hug. It hurt to say goodbye to her, hurt to realize she was the last friend from his own life. Once she was gone he'd truly be alone.
But he forced himself to fix a leash to her collar and lead her down the ramp to hand over to Bruce. The companion gave him one last nod, then turned and led the mastiff away.
Tycho waited until Lady was out of sight, then walked heavily up the ramp and closed it behind him. “Let's go, Pilot.”
Chapter Seventeen
The Hub
Outside the window of his ship's rarely used cargo bay the rift hub that would take Tycho most of the distance to Sol hovered like a vast cage of composite struts. A few ships were on the approach, and a few more waited to travel through it.
There was noth
ing spectacular about the jumps. The ships flew inside the cage, shimmered oddly, then disappeared as spacetime tore around them and cast them near-instantaneously to some other location. Then the vast doors opened and another ship entered.
Soon that would be his ship.
Tycho wouldn't see it, of course, since he'd be in his atmospheric entry pod in suspended animation at the time. Which was frankly a relief; not only would he miss the worst rift travel of his life, but he'd be able to escape his conflicted feelings about leaving Callista behind for a brief time.
At the thought of her his eyes turned to the second pod Eva had fabricated, in case the silvery-haired woman wanted to go with him to Earth after all. Looking back now it seemed like such a ridiculous long shot he wondered why he'd even bothered.
Which ultimately led to him wondering if things would've been different if he'd come to Callista and simply told her he wanted to be with her from the first, rather than inviting her to come with him to a place she despised. Maybe she would've been willing to accept the risks of living a life with him if she'd known he put her first, above any desire to live on Earth.
But it was too late now. With a shuddering breath Tycho tore his gaze from the second pod to look at his own, contemplating the action he was about to take once he put himself in it. The trip would feel like the blink of an eye to him, but what mattered was that when he woke up he'd be on Earth, taking his first steps towards his new life. It would be easier to put the past behind him then.
Or so he hoped. It was looming painfully large at the moment.
The atmospheric entry pod was just big enough to fit him lying down, similar in appearance to the caskets humans once used to bury their dead. Before less sentimental but more economical and hygienic methods of disposing of bodies became the accepted norm.
Come to think of it burial was still the custom on Earth, which was about to become his home. Perhaps it was fitting that for his trip there this box would hold his body, not in death but to a new life, protecting him from vacuum and giving him a safe and nearly undetectable descent to the forgotten colony's surface in some secluded spot within easy walking distance of human habitation in the culture he'd picked to be part of.