Earth, 4 months before the Wedding
Family involvement in the wedding. Family involvement. I fixate on the idea of it over and over until I can't bear it anymore. Jayken's wedding vision boards swim before my eyes, and I try desperately to remember any details of my parents wedding, squeeze my brain until I have to face the fact that I don't know I don't know, and eventually I give in and do what I probably should have done from the beginning; I call Rachel and Kris.
They're younger than me, they shouldn't know more than me. It's embarrassing to admit to them the way my brain seems to operate like a sieve. I mean, I guess technically they don't remember that much also, but they've kept up with it. They've made an effort. Rachel has journals. Kris has photos saved on a digifile. They both have stray memories of our parents that I can't even place. I remember dad the best, I think, but they both have such a clear view of our ammi that it makes me want to cry to hear them fondly recall her. Ammi where did you go? Why don't you live in my mind? How could I let this happen?
"Their wedding?" Kris says when I ask if either of them remember anything about it, and scrunches up his face which is funny to see through our patchy connection. All three of us are in far flung corners of the galaxy. He's with his crew on a delivery, a long haul voyage. It must be so interesting... "I definitely have seen photos or videos, I'd have to look through them again though. I feel like I remember ammi wearing a red dress of some sort? And a fancy hat thing. Or maybe it was a crown?"
"Oh, isn't there something like that in the storage cube?" Rachel chimes in suddenly. Her connection is the worst of all of ours, and she's just on Earth. I guess the tech in our hometown isn't THAT cutting edge.
"The what?" I say intelligently.
They're not in the same room and it doesn't make sense at all, but I swear they exchange a swift look. "We got access to the place where they put our parent's stuff when ammi died." Kris explains and I make a surprised oh face. It had never occurred to me once to think what happened to all our stuff. I mean, it's not like they let us take much with us. I figured it was all just gone. But I guess not.
"Oh." I say.
The call is silent for a minute.
"Do you want to look through the storage place?" Kris said. "I won't be home for a few weeks but maybe Rachel can go with you."
"Yeah, okay." Rachel says and just like that I find myself with my little sister back on Earth, awkwardly visiting a chaotic but organised warehouse.
"So have you gone through all of this stuff before?" I ask, as we pick our way through the cramped cube littered with pieces of our childhood. There's stuff I recognise but so much I don't, and the thought of how much of my memory of my parents and the unit we used to live in is just straight up GONE bites and nips at my brain.
Rachel looks at me, like she's maybe worried about how I'm about to react to her answer. "Yeah. Only a quick look though. Kris and I got access when we turned twenty, and they were going to incinerate it all if we didn't claim it. We had a look through but neither of us had any space to store it so we opted to move it to this place. The guy at the original facility seemed upset that he didn't get to destroy it all actually; I think he got his hopes up because you didn't claim anything when you got access."
I try to think of my life at twenty. Working for the Alliance. A year before the Weraynian war. So much going on that it all blurs together into a mushy lump. If Earth had tried to contact me about my parent's stuff it would've been buried in a million other communications. I guess I'm lucky I'm not an only child or every memento of our parents would have been lost forever. That concept makes me feel so awful that I stop for a minute, grabbing onto the nearest random item and turn it over in my hands obsessively, trying to tell myself that there's nothing I can do to change the past. That I am here now because I am trying to honour my parents, involve my siblings, make up for the rest of my life so far from them all.
I regain my composure after slightly longer than I'd hoped. I try to pretend everything is normal. "So we think the headdress ammi wore to the wedding is in here?" Kris did end up managing to find the pictures from their wedding. They both dressed so fancy.
"I guess so." I look at Rachel, who is looking around and looking kind of crushed. I try to think of appropriate comforting words to say as a concerned older sibling who isn't wrapped up in her own problems. I am at a loss, as I often am. I'd like to think I've gotten better after being a parent, but it's different, coparenting with Mickey, looking out for a teenager who is eager to connect with me. Rachel is so far away. I don't even know this girl. I dropped the ball for too long. I haven't been what I am supposed to be to her.
These thoughts fester within me as we search through items, a thick, gross silence hanging between us. I trail my hands along dusty containers while Rachel opens one and breaks the silence with a surprised squeak. She turns to me in a whirl, showing me what she's found.
“Look Sophie! Here’s the bot you made with ammi!!!” She is so excited to show it to me, connect with me in this remembering, and as I stare over the hodgepodge of a device, long inert, I hope that this will stir some memory in me. Instead there’s nothing, no familiarity in this lump of wires and robotic limbs. Did it ever work? Surely it did, if I built it with ammi.
I wonder how much time we spent together, building things. Those memories must be so buried, covered forever by the memories of ammi so sick, of medical visits and nothing working and difficult conversations sitting by her bedside about treatments that we couldn’t afford. There existing a time before all that, a carefree time where I had fun learning things from a mother that had time and energy to spend on something so simple and fun, feels impossible.
"Oh, wow." I say and I take the device in my hands, turn it over as if absorbing the nostalgia but truly I'm trying to see if I can figure out what it is. The workmanship is a little shoddy, as if the wiring was done by a child. I guess it probably was. I can sort of see my own hand in this, I can see the way I usually stick things together, but there's parts that are unfamiliar to me, that are fixed in a way I would never do. Looking closely, I can piece it together, looking at the interface, the limbs that should fold out, it reminds me of companion bots, toys which could be activated to follow you around, do basic tasks with basic voice prompting, like simple fetch quests. Looking at the speaker inputs, this one probably played music as well. It's cute. I still don't remember it, but it's the sort of thing I would've thought was really cool as a kid. Its power cells aren't even that degraded either. Hmm.
Rachel laughs softly. "Look at you, totally absorbed in that thing. I wish I could understand tech the way you can."
I shake out of my trance and place the bot back in the box. "Oh, you know." I say lamely. What can I say? That I got lucky to have gotten just enough training from our parents before we lost them? That I only survived out in space on my own because I figured out how to pull stuff apart and make things of them? That it's the only skill I have? Nothing I can think to say sounds helpful, so we just continue awkardly with our search.
Blurry memories stir as we find more things, staying just out of reach at the edge of my mind. It is endlessly frustrating.
Finally, finally, at the bottom of one container, we find a box with lots of padding surrounding it. Feeling hopeful, we carefully remove it and get it open. And here it is! The headdress ammi was wearing in the photos, a gold and red crownlike thing with dangling pearly bits and flower type things poking out of the top. It is actually incredibly beautiful. I stare and stare at it.
"Here, try it on." Rachel says, and even though I feel suddenly very unworthy of wearing this beautiful thing that belonged to our ammi I let her place it on my head. It's not as heavy as I expected, though the dangly bits tickle the side of my face.
Rachel smiles wobbily at me, and then turns her digifile into mirror mode and holds it up so I can see how I look in the headdress. I look entirely unlike myself, but also unlike ammi too. I don't look that much like her to begin with. She was very thin and serious, with neatly tied hair. There's a few photos where she's laughing where I can see it, but otherwise she looks more like Rachel and Kris. I look more like a blob of both of my parents. Even though my head is rounder than ammi's the headdress fits okay.
"What do you think?" I ask Rachel. "Should I wear this for my wedding?"
Rachel bites her lip. "It looks nice on you. You should wear it if you want to wear it."
Hmm. Not really the sort of answer I wanted. "But do you think-" I say, but my voice is oddly high so I clear my throat and try again. "Do you think she would be okay with me wearing it?"
Her face drops and I immediately feel like an asshole. Maybe this was all a bad idea. There's a few horrible moments where I think Rachel is going to cry and I don't know what to do. Then, "Sophie," she says in a strangled voice, "What do you- of course she would."
"I'm sorry." I say stupidly as she buries her face in her hands, and I put my arm around her, awkward as anything.
"No, it's not your fault." she shakes her head, voice muffled. "It just- I thought this would be easier. But it's not."
"Yeah." I say, and I try to think of how to fix things. "Look, Rachel, if it's too painful for me to be wearing ammi's stuff for my wedding, I don't need to. I just- I don't know. I thought it would help me remember her. Remember both of them. I haven't been very good at that so far."
Rachel emerges from her hands, shrugs off my arm (why did I think that would help anyway) and wipes furiously at her eyes. "No, it'll be so good for you to wear it. It'll be like she's there."
Like she's there. Oh god. Family involvement in the wedding. This is fine I feel fine. But this is the point right. This is why we're here at all.
I nod and say, "Yeah, it will." Even though I'm not convinced at all. If anything it will make her absence more real. Will draw attention to the fact that she's not there. I think of all the other people who won't be there. My mouth feels dry. If I'm going to commit to this, if this wedding is supposed to be about us and our lives and the people who matter to us, we need to find a way to honour them all, even if it will be painful. I need to talk to Abigail desperately...
But this is a good start. This I can do. I can wear the headdress. It really will help the wedding feel special, it's so much fancier than anything else I have ever worn in my life.
"Thank you for helping me find it." I say to Rachel, who smiles at me and leans her head against my shoulder. I hesitantly put my arm around her again because this feels like the right thing to do and this time she doesn't shove it away.
"No worries. Can we go get ice tea now?" she asks. I think for a second. Huh. Why not.
"Sure!" I say, and as we head off together it almost feels natural, like maybe I know how to be a good sister after all.
Flauraan, Abigail is 17, Sophie is 19
Pottering about in the kitchen with my mum, I try not to smile at the sounds of laughter from the roof above us. I am remaining stoic and dutiful, passing my mum measurements of twine as she divides up her herbs, then moving over to cast an eye over the sterilised jars lined up pristinely by the window, which is ajar and letting in a slight breeze. When she turns around I am distracted, gazing past her and focusing on the sounds of mechanisms carried by the wind. She smiles knowingly at me and before I can even be embarrassed to be caught she crosses to the cooler and pulls out a pitcher.
“Why don't we fix up some refreshments for our hard workers?” She teases gently and I accept the inevitable shedding of my own aloofness. I don't even know why I feel the need to hide what this means to me. It's all a bit overwhelming, really.
We carry out a tray of one of my mum’s slightly fruity concoctions and I squint against the sun as I take in the construction site that Sophie and my dad have been toiling in. My parents have good reason to worry when Sophie and technology mix in our home, and honestly I don't know how she convinced them to let her mess around with the preexisting wiring there. Alright, I know how she convinced them. They love her almost as much as I do, and even though I have played it cool, they clearly all know that this is affecting me.
We are standing there for a while, watching them work, my dad supervising as Sophie crouches in the now exposed communications unit and tinkers with a focus I've rarely seen her show anything except machines.
Mum clears her throat and speaks over the wind, “Are you ready for a break?”
Dad turns around and smiles warmly at us, Sophie tries to do the same but gets snagged on something and starts yelping and apologising. Dad quickly reaches down to help her get unsnagged and now I am the one laughing, clear and happy, and I don't try to stop the sound from carrying into the sky.
Once Sophie is untangled with only a few minor scrapes and cuts in her clothes to show for it, she stands for a moment and looks right at me as my laughter dies down. For that moment it feels like we are the only two people in the entire universe, and I try to transmit all the feeling I've been trying to suppress straight into her. Then the spell is broken, they climb off of the roof and we sit and chat together as a family as they take a well earned break before returning to their work.
Once it is all done, and Sophie is covered in grime from some unclear source, she presses into my hand the communicator she made for me the first week we'd met. It is surprisingly pristine.
“Obviously we still need to test it.” she is speaking casually, as if she's handed me a trinket, as if this is any other gadget in her bag, as if she doesn’t know that I know that she is giving me a direct line to her, a lifeline, as a way of trying to apologise for all the time I spent tortured by her absence. Making up for her joining the Alliance and continuing to be so far from me by using Alliance transmission technology to ensure we can talk even if she is systems away, a promise that she will always be here for me, always come back for me, always be in contact with me from now on.
I couldn't hold it against the suffering Sophie, the aggrieved Sophie who'd just watched a friend die and blamed herself for it. Even when days turned into weeks and months and I didn't know if she was dead or alive. And I certainly can't hold it against this Sophie, who is doing everything in her power to make it up to me, to earn back my trust. I can’t pretend it doesn’t make me incredibly anxious, that there hasn’t been lasting damage from the way she abandoned me. I really do hope that this new era of both of our lives with assuage my anxiety.
Time will tell. But now when I am sick with worry about her, I at least have something to do other than wait and see.
She is surveying her work but all I am doing is looking at her, and thinking how lucky I am.
Two Days Before The Wedding
It's funny how even with the wedding so soon I feel an odd wave of calm. Abigail is in the nursery, I think, or attending to some similar wedding related errand. I should probably be completing something on Jayken's checklist myself, but I get distracted by a device in the lounge room and end up talking to Graycien about it for way longer than I should.
"Soph," Kris prods me suddenly. "Isn't that your friend on the hill?"
I look out the window and sure enough, there's Beth, pacing around and looking out of place.
I head out to greet them and find that they are fully dressed in the fancy outfit that they showed me when the Knife Edge arrived, that they have picked out for one of the wedding events, but the upper half of it, and part of their face, is covered in ash. What on earth has happened to them?
I am almost upon them before they see me. "Beth! Are you okay? What happened?"
They step back and wag their finger at me. "Oh no! I'm not falling for that again. The last thing we need is another temporal paradox."
Oh. So that's what's going on. I watch as Beth runs their hands through their hair and start to pace again. I notice they are wearing a paladanian style belt. Weird. They adjust their glasses frustratedly.
"I should've known this would happen." They mutter to themself. "Why didn't anyone warn me? I could have at least taken my medication."
"You didn't take your medication?" I ask, wondering when they are coming from. Wondering what nonsense is going to happen over the next couple of days.
"Don't lecture me. You obviously completely fail to let me know this is going to happen."
"What is going to happen?" I ask. "And I'll head right over to the Knife Edge and tell you now. Remind you to take your medication."
"No you won't." Beth retorts smirking.
"Will too!" I insist.
"You're not gonna win this one." Beth crosses their arms smugly. "You obviously don't, because I'm here. QED."
"Maybe you just forgot."
They scoff, and then they get a weird look in their eyes and tremble a bit. "I think I'm going." They say, and then they're gone.
This doesn't bode well. I decide not to tell Abigail, but troop down through the woods, determined to tell Beth about their doppelganger and assert my version of the causal loop.
When I reach the ship I find Steve, ask, "Where's Beth?" and he says, "They went into town with Mickey to go shopping. They're looking for the perfect accessory for the wedding."
Huh. That's probably when they get the belt. I open my mouth to tell Steve about my Beth encounter but am interrupted by Zara.
"Ammi!" she engulfs me in a hug and I wrap my arms around her enthusiastically. She grabs my hand when she pulls back. "Can you come look at Zee? I've been trying to fix her up."
"Of course." I follow her into the ship's quarters and all thoughts of Beth disappear from my mind.
Alliance Base 17, and Flauraan, Sophie is 21, Abigail is 19
A lot of weird things start happening with Beth. There was a lot to sort out immediately post war. Me, Steve and Mickey obviously are pushing Beth to focus on their recovery, and the Alliance even gave them the option to do lighter duties, different hours or just straight up go on paid sick leave. Beth claimed they were fine, and that they would get bored at home, and told us all to shut up and stop treating them like they were fragile when all of us had horrible shit that happened to us and we needed to recover from. Which, like, is true, to be fair. I’m in the medbay a lot having my arm looked at, or being engaged by the psych team on the base, trying to make sure things are okay. And they are, mostly. I know that I’m pushing myself a little bit too hard but it’s because I want to make sure things are set up so I can get back to Flauraan, to Abigail. Beth has been pushing themself too hard too.
Beth describes their condition like this: their dad is a being that exists across time and in dimensions the rest of us can’t see. They have always had a sense of it, but because they’re half human their body always stayed causally present. They experienced time and dimensions similarly to the rest of us non-quantoformous beings. But when they got injured during the war the organ that balances their presence on our plane of existence got irreversibly damaged. They take medication that helps, and they have devices that can stabilise them. We’ve experimented with a few, although the engineering of these things is way beyond me. Beth claims one of them has a black hole inside it. I’m not sure I believe them but it’s not like I’m gonna check or anything. Most of the time they are normal Beth; they can walk and talk and their body is physical and solid. But sometimes, when they’re stressed, or they’ve had too much to drink, or they forgot to take their medication, their causality starts to slip. They will be carrying groceries and then it all smashes to the ground because their body has lost corporeality. They will slump suddenly, scaring us, and then a few minutes later jerk back into motion as Beth sheepishly admits they only just realised they left their body behind. They will glitch uncontrollably, as if they’re being pulled in different directions, in different dimensions. Their treatment is constantly being adjusted, titrated. It doesn’t feel like a big thing to ask, for body and mind and self to stay in one place. But for Beth, there’s a part of them that has genuinely always existed in ways that don’t make sense to wormiforms and such, and in a lot of ways their condition involves getting a glimpse of that. And it’s uncomfortable, disorientating for them.
When it happens, we are in the offices working late. The lights are in night cycle mode, so it’s dark, but Beth and I are both working furiously; drafting proposals, sifting through communications, continuing the backlog of work from before we uprooted our team and went to the Staarus System. A variety of snacks and volatile substances litter the table around us, although Beth has already consumed some of the more dangerous of them. Mickey and Steve have been helping, but they went out to get food so that we could have a proper meal. Beth looks kind of terrible in the light from their comms, paler than normal, and more tired. I know if I say something, suggest they take a break, they will snap at me. I probably don’t look great myself. I rub the joint between my flesh arm and my mechanical one; my prosthetic has been pinching more than normal, I probably need to make time to go over it properly, clean it, oil it, maintain it.
I try to reassert my focus on the incredibly long Alliance treaty document I am attempting to cross-reference with the informal notes from the meeting on Halapatov. I wonder what Abi is doing right now. The twinge of guilt continues to eat at me. I made a promise to her, and I have no idea when I will be able to follow through. I click over to the disaster resource allocation log, thinking of Werayne. That twinge deepens. I haven’t really been able to shake it.
I am pretty thoroughly distracted when Beth speaks up, saying something like “Sophie? Whuh?”
“Mm-hmm?” I say, not looking up.
“This is- I wasn’t-” I look up now, because they sound panicked, and their face has transformed. They rub their eyes. “Why do I feel like complete garbage?” They look at their comms. “Huh? What is going on?”
“What do you mean?” I say, confused.
Silence for a minute. Then, “Oh. I remember this.” Suddenly they are grabbing me by the shoulders, “Have mercy, Sophie.” They are grinning wickedly, and I am astoundingly freaked out.
Then they plop themself back where they were sitting before, and all of a sudden they are dead eyed again. They briefly shake their head as if confused, and then continue working as if nothing happened.
“Beth?” I say, but I’m not sure whether to be annoyed or confused. "What do you mean, have mercy?"
"Babe, what?" Beth looks at me incredulously, which is insane because they're the one acting weirdly and confusing me. "Have mercy?"
"Yeah, you just said that to me. Have mercy, Sophie." I repeat mockingly.
"I would never say something like that."
I am annoyed now, assume they are playing some sort of prank on me. I rub my eyes."Beth, I'm too tired for this."
"Too tired for what? I don't know what you're on about."
We are still arguing about it when Mickey and Steve return with a feast.
"What are you two all worked up about?!" Steve looks between us.
"Beth was acting weird and said a few things that freaked me out and is claiming they don't remember it."
Mickey looks at Beth sharply. "Have you had problems with memory since Werayne?"
I hadn't even considered that it could be a memory thing. My heart sinks.
Beth crosses their arms. "No! I've just been sitting here doing my work! I think Sophie imagined it. We're both just exhausted."
I feel a little frantic, and certain that we shouldn't gloss over this, that we need to get to the bottom of it. I stand up. "I'm gonna look at the office surveillance."
Beth follows in a huff, complaining that it's not a big deal, as we make our way to the monitoring section of the base, and Mickey sweettalks the clerk. He pulls up the footage from earlier and Beth watches, frowning, as I am proven the winner of our argument.
Steve is trembling. "Beth, this is terrifying!"
Mickey begins examining them. They're resisting only half-heartedly. I can see the worry in their eyes.
"I'm fine." They insist, but they agree to get checked out as soon as possible. There's a place near Staphas that does quantoformous brain scans, we find out.
A few days later, I am blissfully back on Flauraan when I get a call from Beth.
"Hey, Sophie, I'm sorry for freaking you out the other day babe."
"What? It's okay Beth, I'm just worried about you."
"Well, about that..." I am tense, fearing the worst. "It turns out my brain is fine. Or at least, it's not a memory problem. It's a chronology problem."
They've lost me completely. "What does that mean?"
"Well, I was just hanging out today, doing my thing, then suddenly I blink and I'm sitting there in the room with you the other night doing work. And I was really confused and didn't know what was going on. It was like a dream. But I was real! And I remembered the weird stuff you were saying the other day so I grabbed you and then I sat down just like I did in the surveillance footage and then I was back here and Steve said I blanked out for a second and he was all worried when I explained but I talked to my dad and he said time isn't linear for quantoforms so that's gotta be what's happening. Time travel Sophie!!! I'm the Time Traveller's Wife!!!"
My mind is reeling so I fixate on the least confusing part of what they're saying. "Wouldn't that make you just the time traveller?"
"Babe it's literally like a poem or whatever you wouldn't get it."
"I don't." I confirm. "So when I was talking to you the other day it was you from today? Are you sure? Is this going to happen a lot?"
"I don't know." Beth says. "But it's exciting isn't it!"
We chat for a while longer and when I get off the call Abigail asks me what happened and when I tell her she looks really scared.
"What's wrong?" I say, and she just shakes her head and presses her lips together.
After a minute she says, "Isn't it frightening to you? Existentially? That time is malleable like that?"
"I haven't really thought about it." I shrug. Time travel doesn't seem that big a leap from psychic powers, Lexie's future visions, or any of the extra-dimensional stuff I've come across.
Abi shakes her head again. "Maybe I'm overreacting. I'm going to go for a walk." She says simply, and I know without asking that she doesn't want company, that she wants to be with her thoughts.
As I stretch out in the room alone I start to properly think about it all myself, and as opposed to the fear that seems to have pierced Abigail I am filled with this overwhelming thrill and sense of wonder at the way the universe is shifting and changing before my eyes.
Halapatov, Sophie is 22
My communicator is buzzing all through the meeting. I silence it, ignore it, almost completely forget about it, then remember and look through the backlog. It's Beth.
I call back and Beth's voice is loud. "Sophie!! Thank fuck you called back! Sophie you're not ready for this new development aaah."
"What?"
"Turn on video Sophie!" Beth demands of me and I do and two people are grinning at me through the phone. I almost don't realise what the big deal is, I am so distracted by the fact that Beth looks more exhausted than I've seen them for a while, and their face is a little beat up. Although the other Beth looks normal. Wait, two Beths?
"Huh." I say and the better looking Beth starts rambling.
"Yuh-huh! It's me from next week! I was in my room and there was a crash and I look down and it's me on the floor knocked out! So I got them up on my bed and I got some ice and they woke up and they were like oh huh so that's how it happened. Apparently I'm going to have some weird symptoms and then faint or whatever and wake up here."
"Cool huh?" The other Beth says smugly. "I told them to call you. They were all worried when you didn't answer and thought you would miss it. Didn't believe me that you'd call back before I disappear again."
I've got to agree that this is a cool development. "What's next week like?"
"Just the usual." They say. "Nothing juicy."
"Is Steve there?" I ask.
"Nah he's out." Beth says. "We already called him and he was gonna call in sick and come straight home but we told him not to worry. He's pretty far away though anyhow."
"Yeah he won't be back until late. I ended up having dinner alone." the other Beth says.
"How long do you stick around?" I address the future Beth.
"Another twenty minutes or so." They say. My eyes linger on the bruise on their forehead.
"Are you gonna pass out again? Make sure you go to the medcentre when you get back."
"Nah, no passing out the second time." Beth waves off my concern and then frowns. "I just kind of am walking and then I disappear. It's very weird."
"Okay, well take care of yourself." I know I'm annoying them with my level of concern but I can't help it.
"Okay, okay, stop hogging me. So much to do, so little time. Talk to you soon babe." Beth hurries me off the line and I stare at my comms dumbfoundedly for a minute. Wait until Abigail hears about this.
Day One of the Wedding
I wander towards the prep rooms, determined to find Sophie, and I open a door and there's Beth, slightly sweaty and in a completely different outfit to the one I just saw them in. I glance instinctively in the direction of the main room where I last saw them chatting to someone. I guess that confirms my theory. Is this the present Beth or is it the other one?
"Oh, hiiiii Abigail." They say goodnaturedly, and I realise they're hiding something.
"You haven't seen Sophie, have you?" I ask innocently and watch their eyes flash.
They lean against the doorframe, blocking my way. "Maybe in the bathrooms?"
I sigh. I mentally prepare for a highly specific bit that these two have been planning. "Okay. Well if you see her, let her know Rachel wants her."
Beth agrees and I head back to the main event.
As I reenter the festivities I catch a glimpse of Beth in their final wedding outfit. My shoulders tense. A third Beth? They are striding towards the other end of the room, where the original Beth continues their conversation with Zax, oblivious to all the other thems.
I quicken my pace and catch up to the newest Beth, grab them by the sleeve. "Beth," I hiss, and they glance at me and shrug off my hand.
"Oh hi Abigail." They say, continuing to stride forward. "Can't stop to chat. Important message to deliver."
"Tell me what happens." I am matching their stride. I realise I am more worried than I've been allowing myself to think.
"There's really no time." The thing is that I do believe them. Their expression is strained; there really is something stressing them, weighing on them. I decide to follow them regardless, and they sigh and uncharacteristically begin to divulge. "I need to talk to myself privately, there's something... something I need to try to prevent."
The existential dread tightens around me. "But, surely you can't. Causality doesn't work like that."
They shake their head. "I have to try." This hall is large but we've almost reached the other end, the other Beth. Suddenly my Beth twinges. "Oh no." They say simply, and they stumble, and all the chattering and conversation around us disappears into the vacuum that must accompany Beth's trips, and they vanish.
I stare at the place they'd disappeared from, particles of displaced air shimmering without an obvious source of disruption, then sneak a look at the other Beth, who doesn't appear to have noticed any of this. Something tugs on the back of my mind as I observe them from this close, but there's so much about Beth that my mind struggles to contend with, so I put that thought back into the same part of my mind as I store the existential dread, and move on.
Deep Space, Sophie is 16
I thrash awake, Aldred’s name on my lips. After so much time spent recovering from his death, and at least a year where I'd pretty successfully trained myself not to think about him, even in my sleep, I’ve now dreamt about him just like I did on Halapatov, have been brought right back to that horrible moment as I watched blood and guts and bone spill out of him and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
The metal walls enclosing me slowly come into focus, and blinking lights attract my eyes. My throat feels as if I've been screaming. Louise has said I used to scream in my sleep on occasion and freak her out.
I suppose I’m lucky no one has come looking for the source of a disturbance and found me stowing away in the bowels of this freighter.
Maybe an infiltration mission wasn't my smartest choice, given my current state, but I had to throw myself into something after what happened, and when I opened the digifile to pick my next steps there it was - a meticulously laid out plan to track a ship following a similar course to the Eridanus, insert myself on board and hijack the systems in order to collect data regarding this sector of space (and hopefully find some useful information about what could have possibly happened to the Eridanus). One of multiple potential plans that Abigail had designed for me before- oh no I shouldn't have followed this thought. Abi. Memories slice at me. Before I lose it and start screaming again I roll out of my little hideyhole and busy myself surveying the equipment I keyed my scanner into before I went to sleep. I pat down my hair as I do so, hoping that anyone who might pass by will mistake me for an engineer. At least if someone tries to confront me I have some falsified credentials that should actually hold up under scrutiny this time, unlike that slipshod attempt on Flauraan. Flauraan. Something in me aches. There I go, thoughts running away from me again. What is wrong with me?
Since I clearly am incapable of not dwelling on things I'd rather not revisit, I switch tracks to another topic I've been trying not to think about. The future. I have no idea what to do next. Well of course I have other plans to work through. And I will. I will. But I really really don’t know at what point I’m going to be able to go back to Earth. And I know I should plan for that. I need to check in at some point. It’s been months now, the longest I’ve ever been away. Louise probably thinks that I’ve gone missing right along with the expedition. That concept should make me feel worse than it does. Instead all I can think about is that there’s no way to go back without getting found out. Without having to explain what happened on Halapatov. It’ll only get worse the longer I’m gone though.
They’ll want to know why I was gone so long. Maybe the Eridanus II contacted them like they said they would and so they know about what happened on Flauraan. And of course I can explain that I decided to stay longer in the Staarus System and do more research since it’s a brand new system and so interesting! But then I’ll have to explain why the research is incomplete and unfortunately I don’t think I’m quite enough of a failure for them to accept incompetence as an excuse and Louise will be able to tell that someone other than me worked on the data and I’ll have to explain about Abi and I guess maybe I won’t have to explain why I left her the way I did but I’ll be thinking about it and how am I supposed to have that conversation.
But I’ll have to go back eventually. Maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe we can just gloss over most of the details. Then I think of my dream again. What happens if I wake up screaming again and Louise gets worried about why that’s happening again after years without it.
Not really any good options, when you think about it.
I frown at my scanner, tapping idly at its side. The ship specs run through my mind - it's a similar size to the Eridanus, although with a slightly smaller crew and more space for cargo. It's slightly less sophisticated technologically also. I tap until I find the Eridanus specs and go over the data that I already really should know by heart and try to figure out if there's anything significant about its tech that could be interfered with by the phenomena this ship has encountered. None of it is really comparable to the solar flares that were rampant in this sector when the Eridanus derailed its course. I need to get to a better equipped section of this ship, gain access to the navigation computations, see for myself what a ship of this size would be seeing as a viable course, attempt to run a simulation on it using the data on the solar flares I have. Hmm. If things had gone differently I could have run a proper simulation on the Eridanus II, but the way things went I only got a little bit of (still sort of useful) information on their systems. Just another way I've fallen short.
I lean my head against the wall of the ship, feel the hum of the systems reverberate through my skull. I feel so tired, so lonely. Thoughts I haven't thought bleed out of me. I miss Abigail. I miss Aldred. I've been doing this, this research, this trek across the galaxies on my own for so long that I'd forgotten what it was like to work with someone else, how much easier it made it, how extra eyes and thoughts and minds could help make sense of info that much quicker, find connections that I hadn't considered. I mean I'm only here because of Abi's work. A selfish part of me wishes I could bring her with me. But I can't. I can't.
If I've learnt anything it's that something bad happens to people who try to help me. I hold Aldred and Riowyn side by side in my head for a moment. They're actually really similar, in so many ways. Both so intelligent and organised. And they both died to save me. And Abigail, too, is like them, with her brilliant mind and the way she followed me into the ghost light. I screw my eyes shut. No matter how much having her with me would help, it's not worth it. The best thing I can do is get away from her, solve the mystery of the expedition on my own, refuse to put anyone else in danger for my sake ever again.
I will just have to carry Abigail with me through her notes in my digifile, try to imagine what she would say if she were here, what choices she would make, the way I have with Aldred so many times.
Well, right now, I can hear her telling me to get on with it, to go get the data I need. I pull out the ships specs again, and figure out the quickest route to the navigation deck. My boots clomp against the floor of the ship as I make my way down the corridor. So much for subtlety.
I have to get better at this. I have to keep going. And maybe I can actually do something right for once, and all of this work I've done won't just end in more disaster. I have to believe. I have to try. I can't let any of them down.
I go on the only way I can, with ghosts by my side.
Day One of the Wedding
I sit, statuesque, hand outstretched as Rachel delicately paints my hand with thin, deliberate strokes of henna. I am buffeted with the sounds of conversation surrounding us, oddly anxious at the sheer volume of people we've gathered in this counsel hall. And this is only a fraction of the people who will be in attendance for the Earth ceremony. Out of the corner of my eye I catch glimpses of hand after hand glowing with the same design. Rachel insisted on doing Sophie’s and mine last so that she could practice on all our other guests first. Kris offered to help out and was allowed to assist in decorating at least some of the people here, but Rachel insisted on this being her wedding contribution, and so now it is just she and I. I think of all the work she has done to honour her parents' wedding and cultures, and I smile. I’m beyond glad this has all come together so that Sophie can have a wedding that reflects parts of herself she thought she'd left behind as a child.
Where is Sophie, anyhow? She is supposed to be the next to be adorned with henna, but I get the distinct impression that she is nowhere to be found. Usually in a crowded room you can hear Sophie even if you can't see her. Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I’ve gotten an inkling that she and Beth have been planning something secret for tonight.
I take a measured glance around the room. Oh, there’s Beth in that corner chatting to Jayken. I feel a brief moment of relief before I remember that Beth was running low on medication and is likely going to be glitching during the wedding. I make a mental note to remind Beth to take their medication, although of course once you’ve seen a Beth doppleganger this action is functionally pointless.
I bring my attention back as Rachel finishes the last details on my fingers and releases them to me with a flourish. I stretch out my hands in front of me and admire the tendrils of light emanating from the star at the very centre of my hand, turn them to trace the path of the dye around my wrists.
"It's beautiful, Rachel. Thank you." I say and she nods proudly.
"Now we've just got to let it dry." She instructs, and then she joins me in scanning the room. "Where's Sophie? I've been saving her to do last."
"That's precisely what I'm wondering." I murmur.
"I'll go see if I can find her." Rachel stands up and disappears into the crowd.
I sit there, and people come up and make small talk with me. Jayken checks in on me, oohs at the henna. Zara shows me the unique way Kris implemented the design onto her appendages, and then asks me where Sophie is. With the henna set, I decide it's finally time for me to try to find my bride to be.
My search is fruitless, with some minor misdirection from Beth, who is acting very suspiciously. I notice that Mickey and Steve are missing too. It's all exceedlingly suspicious. I am accepting that whatever is about to happen is out of my sphere of influence just as a door bangs open and Rachel appears, dragging Sophie by the ear. I suppress a laugh at the sheepish expression on her face as Rachel unceremoniously deposits her in a chair, wipes off her hands and wrists, and gets to work. Sophie looks up and for a second we make eye contact and I try to make shape of whatever plan is in her brain. She can clearly see my intrigue and there's a glint in her eyes for a moment before Rachel barks at her and she snaps her head back attentively. I watch Rachel considering Sophie's prosthetic, holding it and her other hand as if weighing them. I see her make the decision to do the prosthetic separately, and so she gets to work on just the one hand.
I am shaking my head fondly when I realise my parents are approaching me.
"You're all done with the henna?" my mother asks and I nod, proferring my hand and they both examine the design.
"It's lovely." My father says, and then gets straight to the point. "Can we steal you away from the festivities for a moment?"
I have half of an idea of why they've come to me now and my suspicions are confirmed when they lead me to a side room and unveil a delicately wrapped package.
I open it to find the embroidered tunic that I will be wearing for the paladanian ceremony tomorrow, that has been worked on in secret for weeks.
I am eager to see what they've chosen for the pattern. The standard design is of some kind of flora or other plant life. Not always of course; I remember Zax’s tunic had these beautiful bright-coloured birds in flight. Nonetheless, I have been envisioning images of the forest from the hill, or maybe the flowers that Sophie and I had threaded in each other’s hair at the treaty ceremony the first week we’d met.
I spread out the tunic and pore over the design. It takes me a moment to make sense of the pinpricks of gold connected by thin lines, set into the deep greenish blue. It is unlike any Paladanian tunic I have ever seen. I hold it out, arms wide, and absorb the starlight. Constellations. And they’re all so familiar. I feel oddly small as I regard this garment made for me.
I look at my parents, overwhelmed. “Are these my star charts?”
My father nods. “We kept some, from when you were younger, and copied them for the pattern.”
My head is spinning. I finger the fabric again. “This is the paladanian thread, but what about these gold facets?”
“Sophie got them for us.” My mother explains. “They match her outfit.”
Of course Sophie has played a hand in this. She always finds some small way to surprise me. I haven't yet seen what she is wearing to the ceremony tomorrow but she’s made sure that we’ll be matching. I feel vulnerable, all of a sudden, like the whole world is watching me and all I want is to hide myself away. I push that feeling down and embrace my parents.
“It’s perfect.” I say, and that doesn’t even really capture my feelings all that well. I feel, somehow, simultaneously treasured and exposed.
They hold it up against me, urge me to try it on, and of course it fits perfectly. My emotionality is not being helped by wearing the thing. I take it off again and we secure the tunic back in its covering and put it aside for me to take back to the house, for tomorrow. Tomorrow.
There are other small details to attend to and by the time I make it back to the main hall Sophie's henna must be done because Rachel is poring over the prosthetic and its owner is nowhere in sight.
I sigh to myself. I'm not so much anxious about what she has planned, and more gripped by the desire to grab her by the shoulders and ask what the hell we are even doing. I don't know why I feel like this. For the entire six months we've been planning this event I have been riding this feeling in waves, alternately calm and frantic. Right now my heart is thudding out of my chest as the room presses in on me. I take in face after face, my friends, people I grew up with, a couple of Alliance people I don't know too well and I can't shove down that feeling. I do want to run, and that terrifies me. It's not about Sophie, it's not about the wedding, it's just that this huge undertaking is forcing me to examine my life and who I am and that is the furthest thing from what I want. I don't want to be lucid.
I want to run from myself.