Day 22
They have taken to sleeping in what he insists on calling a cabin, even though it has no ceiling, and the walls only go up to her shoulders. She always calls it a hovel. He keeps calling it a cabin mostly just to annoy her. Which of course is the same reason she calls it a hovel. The first night they slept in it he carried her across the threshold, "Just in case we weren't married before."
On day twenty-two when she wakes up next to him on the blankets which form their bed (she designed a loom and he built it. He makes blankets as he fishes) a fragment of a dream remains.
She looks up at the tall circle, shimmering pool of blue. Then she turns to him, "You know, you really will like me when you get to know me."
He smiles at her, "Oh, I adore you already, Captain." And she isn't sure if he's teasing her or not. She looks at the rippling blue coming from the circle.
"My God. Look at this! I mean, the energy the 'gate must release to create a stable wormhole is…it's astronomical to use exactly the right word!" She can't resist it any longer, and she reaches out her hand, she needs to feel it. It feels…feels like nothing she can describe. There is nothing to compare it to. It ripples, and she says, "You can actually see the fluctuation in the event horizon!"
He shoves her through. Her whole body is engulfed in that inexplicable feeling. It is exciting, and terrifying and thrilling all in one. The feeling also includes nausea, and cold, and pain. But she isn't mad at him. When she comes out on the other side she's already looking forward to her next trip.
"There is something missing from this planet," she says.
He rolls on his side to look at her. "Like people?" he asks.
"No," she says giggling at him, "I don't know…It's round."
His eyes grow wide, and he nods his head, "Yeah, and made of water?" he squints.
"Not quite…" she says, "But I know what you mean. It's part of the important stuff we do," she says.
"He nods…I've been thinking about it. You know how we keep talking about planets…I think maybe we go to different planets," he says.
"And the faces…our team, I've been thinking about that too," she nods, "But how did we get here alone, naked, and without memories?"
"And if our jobs is what caused this paranoia about each other's death we both have I'm not entirely sure I want to go back to this big important thing," he says. The desperate need to check and make sure the other is still alive is fading, but it is still pretty strong.
"I think we'll want to, when we remember it. And…I'm not sure how much choice we have," she says.
He shakes his head, pulling he close, "they are never going to make us do something we don't want to do."
And she feels so safe. She doesn't need protecting, but he'll do it anyway.