"And what if no one believes this truth?"
"Someone all ready does."
Archivist Park stared at his bedroom ceiling while he idly twisted his wedding ring. The ceiling displayed a digitized image of the night sky, before the neon lights of Neo-Seoul had eclipsed the stars. Twisting his wedding ring... A nervous habit. Hak-Kun Park often twisted his wedding ring whenever he felt anxious or some thought weighed heavily upon his mind.
His wife had noticed the habit first. Chung-Ae Park was a whimsical woman: a self-proclaimed artist, a sculptor specifically. She rarely ever sold her sculptures because she became emotional at the very thought of parting with her creations. "I'd rather die," she often exclaimed. Hak-Kun's family and friends had wondered at his marriage proposal... How could a sensible, pragmatic man like the archivist ever find happiness with such an airy, passionate woman? They were all wrong, of course. They were unaware of Chung-Ae's sharp, observant nature. Hak-Kun's wife missed nothing, especially where her husband was concerned.
"Something is bothering you," Chung-Ae murmured as she shuffled across the bare floor, toward the futon she shared with her husband.
"Yes," Hak-Kun sighed. His position as an archivist required strict confidentiality; discussing anything he said or heard while performing his duty was forbidden and, ultimately, an act of treason, punishable by imprisonment and/or execution. "Work." He grunted.
The archivist's wife lowered herself onto the futon and assumed the same position she had for the past seven years: her petite body snuggled against her husband's right side, her right arm curled around his abdomen, and her head pillowed comfortably on his shoulder. "You can tell me," she whispered conspiratorially.
Hak-Kun shivered at the very thought of his beloved wife wearing handcuffs similar to Somni-451's. "Absolutely not."
Chung-Ae shifted her body until she faced the archivist. "You don't trust me," she groaned. The tone of her voice emoted anger and hurt... However, her eyes twinkled mischievously and Hak-Kun thought he spied a ghost of a smile despite the semidarkness.
The truth... Hak-Kun had never trusted anyone as he trusted his wife. He had trusted her completely since the moment he met her...
He still remembered that day quite clearly. Over eight years ago, his younger sister had dragged him to the local concert hall to hear a twentieth century symphony that had recently been recovered. The young archivist had noticed Chung-Ae while they stood in the lobby, waiting to be seated. She wore a dark, blue, silk dress embroidered with gold thread and Hak-Kun could not tear his eyes from her face... She was undeniably familiar, as if he had known her forever, and yet... He was certain that he had never seen her before; he would have remembered her, he knew.
And just as he thought, "You're such a fool, Hak-Kun. Of course you don't know her," Chung-Ae had felt the weight of his stare... Her eyes, twin, limitless, dark pools, met his evenly, and a gentle, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Hak-Kun's mouth fell open at the sudden revelation... He loved this woman with all his heart and he didn't even know her name.
"Would you say that you loved him?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you mean you are still in love with him?"
"I mean that I will always be."
Had he always loved Chung-Ae? Would he always love her? Could their love truly conquer death? The archivist swallowed hard at the thought...
Chung-Ae gazed at him evenly, just as she had that day eight years ago. She was waiting... As she waited, she hummed a tune he knew well... The Cloud Atlas Sextet... The twentieth century symphony his younger sister had dragged him to the local concert hall to hear.
"Today a fabricant was excised. Her name was Somni-451..."
Hak-Kun told his wife everything; and Chung-Ae listened intently... She smoked Marlboro after Marlboro while Somni's final interview spilled from her husband's lips. Their conversation lasted until early morning and, as the sun crept over the horizon, Chung-Ae convinced the archivist to transcribe Somni's Revelation. "We're committing suicide," Hak-Kun said before pilfering his wife's cigarette and inhaling deeply.
"Our survival often demands our courage," his wife replied as smoke curled gracefully from the archivist's nostrils.
Six months later, Archivist Park and his wife were both executed for treason. They died with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces...
"Does this mean that you believe in an afterlife? In a heaven, or a hell?"
"I believe death is only a door. When it closes, another opens. If I cared to imagine heaven, I would imagine a door opening. Behind it, I would find him there, waiting for me."
Hak-Kun and Chung-Ae smiled because they both knew that they would meet again... Perhaps on a planet far, far away... Where the earth is only a shimmering, blue star... And the firmament of Heaven reminds them of the Corsican stars, under which they met for the very first time.
Author's Notes: "Chung-Ae" means "righteous love," and "Hak-Kun" means "rooted in intelligence." (Or, at least, that's what the website said.)
The dress Chung-Ae wore to the concert hall was meant to resemble the waistcoat Sixsmith gave to Frobisher.
I mentioned that Chung-Ae was a sculptor for a very specific reason: I wanted to imply that she was responsible for the original design of the statue of Somni Zachry and Meronym find in Hawaii.
Standard disclaimers apply.
