3
The Final Bang Observation Deck
End of Time
Eden's rise to consciousness is decidedly rough - right down to the silver tips of her fingernails, it feels as though every cell in her body is jittering to a faintly discordant beat, like there is static between her cells instead of oxygen. It's a sensation that leaves her feeling off-kilter, something rather unusual. She doesn't like the feeling. And even before she opens her eyes, she knows she is waking to something novel. It's difficult to describe what she sees when she wakes up, but the most primal corner of her hindbrain draws an easy, off-putting conclusion. She is in a void. There is no other word for it. The immediate space around her is so dark that there are no shadows to be cast, yet her own body is illuminated, almost blindingly so; sound is also strange, with a silence so vast that it almost seems to echo.
Eden has been meditating her entire life under the tutelage of her father. When he spoke of emptying the mind of everything, she wondered if this was what he meant. She rather hopes not. As fascinating as it is to wake in a not-place like this, Eden would not want to experience it on a regular basis.
She sits up, cautious. Her body is still buzzing with displaced energy, but she feels okay. It's almost similar to being sent through a transporter that was programmed for speed rather than precision. The Alliance discontinued that technology when Eden was much younger, of course, because of the high rate of failure - but even still, even having experienced it only once in a fit of illicit rebellion, the memory lingers in her marrow. Yet other than that, Eden feels fine. She doesn't detect any injuries and a brief internal scan suggests she is in good health. Eden stands, confident in her own balance if not the stability of the place she is in.
She is not alone. The male from before, the one who evidently brought her here, is also in this not-place, merely feet away. He is turned away from her, his arms crossed as he stares pensively at the vast black around them.
Eden has many questions. The obvious ones are boring, but she has no other context to draw clues from, and so she asks. "Who are you? Where are we?" Eden hesitates briefly. "What do you want with me?"
The male turns at the sound of her voice and his expression shifts to one of resignation. "You're awake," he comments, sighing. "That's good. The pocket isn't going to last much longer, so we need to go."
Pocket? Eden eyes the black void she is inexplicably standing in and thinks pocket is a good enough word to describe it. But what kind of pocket is it?
"And where are we going?" she wonders, stepping back when the male steps forward. "Where will you take me?"
"Somewhen else," the male says, not bothering to elaborate. He doesn't seem phased by the way she backs away from him, advancing with a steady, relentless pace until he is close enough to latch onto her wrist.
Somewhen? Eden barely has a moment to process that before there is a sharp tingling of static flowing through her body and a shimmer of ultra-white light - and then, not quite miraculously, her feet touch down onto smooth metal tiles in an entirely different place.
She blinks rapidly, her mind spinning as her eyes lock onto the device on the male's wrist. What extraordinary technology. A personal teleportation device, surely, although it's obvious that there is something more to it. The male said when, not where - could time travel be a real possibility? It would, at the very least, explain some of the things she has seen in the last few hours - the novel martial arts, the sleeker blasters, even this male and his unidentifiable alien race.
It's as Eden is sorting through the ramifications of true time travel - seemingly as real as the quantum travel she had been exploring in her lab, although hers was still in its infancy and not near complete enough for practical use - that the male introduces himself rather lackadaisically.
"Orion," he announces, releasing her wrist. His silvery blue eyes flicker in her direction for a second before returning to their surroundings - an empty hallway, a small branch from a larger corridor. "No need to introduce yourself. I already know who you are."
"Yes," she agrees tepidly. "I'm sure you do."
Of course, he must know who she is. She doubts he and his cohort would go through all the effort of stopping her assassination randomly. It's obvious that she is their target, although she doubts their aim is altruistic. Saving her will not come without a price.
Eden scans the hallway, but she is unable to place it as anything peculiar. It looks like any other hallway she has seen in any other building, albeit a touch darker. There is nothing that marks it as special. Is that why Orion chose to land them here?
"You saved me. What's your goal?" she asks directly.
Orion shifts and she realizes quite abruptly that he's rather tall, with reedy, lanky-looking limbs. Clearly strong, though. She remembers clearly the way he fought with such economic movement. Eden is not intimidated, but she is mindfully cautious. Orion is an unknown entity - and he's one that has taken her away from most of her resources. The only tools she has are the ones she carries habitually and her own telekinesis, but neither would be anything she considers offensive. In short, she doesn't estimate that her own skills are adequate enough to escape from Orion, should she need to.
She does not yet know if she needs to.
Orion seems to chew on the question for a moment, a deep sigh escaping the fine ridge of his nose. "What I want," he says with deliberation. "Is to stop the violence and tragedy of my time. And to do that, you need to live. So what I want is to keep you alive."
Eden tilts her head, wondering at exactly how much information he's withholding. Well, she supposes she will learn about his goals and intentions one way or another. If necessary, all it would take is a touch, no matter how reluctant she may be about that course of action. She hopes it won't be necessary.
Eden will take Orion at his word. He's already shown that he would go to considerable lengths to stop her assassination. She does not trust him, but she also has no reason to distrust him either. For now, though, Eden has more immediate concerns.
She eases a few steps into the hallway, peering with veiled curiosity at the larger corridor, which is punctuated with two doors. None of it looks familiar to her. Her eyes land on the words on the doors written in something that passably resembles Standard, but which has no meaning to her. She hums.
"We're in the future," she deduces. "You've taken me to your time? Or to a time beyond that?"
Orion stares at her rather blankly. She doesn't know him well enough to decide whether he is surprised at her deduction or not, but she supposes it doesn't matter. She cares very little for his thoughts. Not waiting for an answer, Eden wanders down the corridor, the humming vibration of distant machinery reaching her ears as she takes another left. These hallways are empty and quiet and they seem to lead to nowhere. How strange. Surely there are people here?
Eden turns down another hallway and then stops in her tracks, her eyes widening at the view outside the long, wide window etched into the wall. Sitting neatly beneath the window is a placard and although she can't read the words, the numbers are still comprehensible.
Billions always look so startlingly intimidating when they aren't factored. Especially so when she believes that number must represent the current year.
Well then.
There is a faint scuffle, a deliberate sound as Orion steps up beside her, stone-faced as they share the view of three galaxies colliding right before their eyes, the nebulous neon-colored gas drowning out the light of distant stars in the great black abyss. It is, Eden believes, the type of impact that would create catastrophic destruction. Inevitably, one of the black holes at the center of those galaxies would consume the other two, which would create a new galaxy altogether or cause the destruction of all three. Judging by the violence, especially given how close they are to it, she would assume that this is a slow descent into oblivion. None of those galaxies would survive.
She wonders if that is what the placard is supposed to read.
"This is the furthest point we can jump to. After those galaxies finish colliding, there is nothing left. This is the end of time," Orion tells her. "This place is a museum of sorts. An observation deck for those morbid enough to want to see the last days. It's been evacuated now, though. Too dangerous."
"Fascinating," Eden murmurs. She steps closer to the observation window, and surely she must be one of the morbid ones, wanting to get a closer look at how the universe would end millions and millions of years from her own time of birth. As she steps closer, she can see a wider expanse of black, and all the places where other galaxies are consuming each other - and violently vibrant glares in the distance where surely massive explosions have already happened, their momentum driving more and more catastrophe, a cascade of the end times.
Was this what the Big Bang was like, originally? Was the universe as she knows it born from the destruction of the old one? Would those events simply repeat themselves, over and over, atoms being recycled again and again? Eden scarcely blinks, unwilling to miss a second of it. Destruction can be so beautiful, so poignant. She is content to stay and witness.
Orion, though, has other plans.
"We won't be lingering here," he announces. "We're here just long enough for my jumper to recharge, and then we'll seek shelter somewhere else."
Eden glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He stands relaxed, almost blase about the sight in front of them, and hardly anything at all like the alert, dangerous creature who beat back so many Alliance security guards not so long ago. The jumper he is referring to must be the device on his forearm. She was right, then. What extraordinary technology.
But then, something about his plan doesn't quite make sense.
"We can't stay in the future - in this future. Why is that?" she asks, turning away from the destruction of the universe and devoting her full attention to the alien who has abducted her for her own safety. "Judging by this view, there are surely several years before these events would affect us."
"I don't need to explain it to you," he says, terse.
"Ridiculous. I'm obviously involved," she points out, studying the minute twitches of Orion's face as she speaks. "It makes no sense to withhold information from me, particularly if you truly are trying to save my life. Unless, has your goal changed?"
Orion's iridescent eyes slide her way drolly. "It hasn't."
Eden hums. She hadn't thought so. "Then, Orion, why can't we stay in this future? Or rather, why can't I?" she asks, because there is always the option that he simply leaves her here to fend for herself. She would assume that, in stopping the assassination, he has already completed his mission.
Yet that does not seem to be the case.
He sighs loudly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "It's complicated, okay?"
Eden sincerely doubts that anything this jack-booted soldier could tell her would be above her comprehension. She hasn't been confused about anything allegedly complicated since she was three, and she tells him as much.
Orion shoots her a narrow-eyed stare, a look brimming with distaste. "You're very arrogant, do you know that?"
Eden nods. This is not the first time anyone has told her so, and she doubts it will be the last. This, too, is a trait she has inherited from her father.
Orion looks mildly put off as he delivers the explanation, arms crossed over his chest. His body language is clearly projecting dominance, but Eden does not feel cowed in the slightest, merely staring at him languidly as he speaks. "Fine. We can't stay here because time is constantly changing. What's happening in the past where we took you, where we stopped your assassination - that's changing things here, too. You're out of your own time, and so am I, but your existence is rooted in some kind of temporal singularity. Your life matters and time knows it - and that means the Alliance knows it, too."
This theory - it sounds strikingly familiar. The quantum theory she had been quietly building in her laboratory drew on similar themes. While relative time and allowing colliding atoms to travel backward have been well-established ideas of her predecessors, her own theories have a divergence. Time is, of course, self-healing, which is why time travel is theoretically possible. The quantum theory Eden had been working on was designed mainly to prevent planet-wide catastrophic events, such as the massive asteroid that had decimated a newly civilized planet called Iteriuym. Her goal had been to create a device that would allow brief interventions, not unlike launching a missile to subvert the path of another missile. The basis of her theory was that certain catastrophic events, like the asteroid, would have great enough weight that they couldn't be fully prevented, but they could be, in the right circumstances, altered just enough so that time could go on as intended, save for a mass event.
It would seem someone had expanded upon her theory. Although it may be arrogant to think so, she wonders if her lab had been raided at her death - or her would-be death, as it is. Judging by the jumper Orion wears, and remembering the device she had been building in her lab, she thinks it may be possible.
A pleased warmth spreads through her chest, a tiny pinprick of pride that she does not allow to show on her face. It would seem her theory held merit - her science had succeeded. But the irony is not lost on her. It's likely that her success is also the reason why Orion claims her existence is a temporal singularity.
"Elaborate," she prompts, tilting her head. She is eager to learn more so she can slot these ideas together and make sense of them.
Orion juts his jaw out, the cut of his jawbone casting a stark shadow against the wall. Eden briefly studies his silhouette, the way his profile is shadowed so perfectly with smooth, straight angles. He is, objectively, a good-looking male. His personality, on the other hand, she doesn't care for. She is sure the feeling is mutual.
"Look it's like this - singularities don't just happen all the time. They're rare events. It's even rarer when a singularity is tied to a single person, so that means the weight of your very atoms are heavier than someone else's," he says directly. "You're like one of those primitive hydrogen bombs while everyone else is just a single explosive. And that factors into the metrics the Alliance uses to track time anomalies. So even so far into the future, it's inevitable that your presence will draw attention."
That would mean my death is the equivalent of the Iteriuym asteroid, Eden realizes. An unavoidable moment in time that would happen, sooner or later. Unless, of course, my disappearance would allow time to self-heal and move forward. Dead or not, I am still not in my own time...
"This would imply that your Alliance will be looking for me," Eden says after a beat.
Orion snorts. "Trust me. They're looking. I don't know what's changed in the timeline, but I know the Alliance. They're looking and they will find you."
"Inevitably, yes," she agrees because she also knows the Alliance. She doesn't know from when Orion is, but she is certain that the characteristics of the Alliance are steadfast. When there is a goal, it is met. Even so, Orion's insistence that they move on as soon as possible doesn't quite seem to mesh. "But you are suggesting that we move to another time, which seems illogical if my presence would draw attention in any time. At least in the future, there would be less chance of making further changes -"
"Right," he cuts in irritably. "But the future is also passive this far forward. There's no guarantee that any of this will be here tomorrow, let alone in the next few minutes. We're so far into the future that any tiny change in the past could completely erase this present. That's dangerous - it's playing with fire."
Eden tilts her head, processing this theory Orion seems so sure about. The suggestion that the very next moment could disappear is startling, particularly given his certainty. She must be missing additional information.
"If we were to travel, would we be able to go to the past? The past of my present?"
"Yes."
"And what of the future? The future beyond your present, but not to this edge?"
"For a time, yes. We could go anywhen," Orion confirms irritably. "We just need to go. Stay on the move."
"Because I am a singularity." Eden furrows her brow, thoughts slotting into place. "How long would we be able to stay in those other times?"
"Days or weeks. Maybe months." Orion shrugs. "It would depend."
Yet this far in the future, they could only stay for mere hours. She has the sense there is a pattern - and not the inevitability of the Alliance tracking her down through time. No, it must be something else -
Eden's eyes widen minutely and she makes a low noise of comprehension. "I see. There are no other singularities anchoring time this far forward. Other times surely have other singularities - events that must happen - that would make it difficult for my presence to cause too much disruption." Eden nods. Yes, this is what she was missing. "Time truly is self-healing. There is a point where not even a singularity could cause catastrophic damage to a timeline, because time will correct itself to meet the singularity, one way or another. But if time this far in the future is passive, then it must be because not all singularities are set in stone - which you have proven, so far, by preventing my death...Fascinating."
It makes sense, in the way that any theory of time travel makes sense. Eden had been tooling with quantum travel herself, of course, so she understood the implications. There are some singularities that will inevitably happen, and there are some singularities, apparently like herself, that are not above being altered. How time weighs each singularity must certainly be determined by the way events unfold. But while Eden may be a hydrogen bomb compared to others, there are certainly other singularities that are larger, that have more weight - and that means that time itself will prioritize the event with the most importance. This far forward, there must not yet be any significant events, so there would be nothing for time to heal. Some singularities must act as anchors, then, and without an anchor, time would simply erase itself to create a new future based on the events of the past. She's certain this is what Orion has been alluding to - Eden's death is obviously a singularity, but it's been a tractable one, and her disappearance in lieu of her death has almost certainly caused untold changes that would prompt time to rearrange itself to meet the next singularity.
The question now was whether time would resolve her singularity to keep the future on track, or if the weight of more important singularities would allow for her own significance to fade away. Orion seems very sure that the Alliance will be hunting for her, so for now, it must be assumed that her singularity is still very important to the natural flow of time. In fact, she is only borrowing time until the timeline resolves itself. She supposes the optimal resolution would be any result that is not her death, but she isn't convinced it can be avoided. Between the Alliance and time itself, Eden's clock is rapidly ticking down.
After all, the longer Eden lives, the more likely a paradox will cause significant changes - and she does not think it will be a simple paradox like the pocket she woke up in.
At this stream of thought, Eden's lips turn downward. "I do not understand your plan. In saving me, you obviously meant to create a paradox to cancel out my singularity, but now that you have, it seems like your plan is falling apart."
His lips press together tightly. "That's because it is falling apart. We counted on a silent, temporary disappearance that would give us enough time to identify the members of the Alliance who would cause the most corruption, and then quietly reinstall you into the timeline after the threats had been eliminated. But you did not disappear quietly and while the Alliance is full of self-serving assholes, they're not stupid. Someone will have figured out that your death was thwarted for a reason, and that makes it much more complicated for us to go eliminate the corruption. Not impossible, but infinitely harder."
"A battle on two fronts," she nods, connecting the dots. Not only will the Alliance be alerted to the weight of her singularity as she shifts through time, but the Alliance will be actively guarding against any suspicious activity that could out the corrupt influences. She only has one question remaining. "How long does it take for paradoxical changes to occur in the timeline?"
"Time takes time, however long that is. For small things, it can be sorted in a few minutes. For bigger things? Thousands of years. But it's not like the people in linear time will be able to tell the difference - it's only those outside of linear time that will be able to track the changes."
Outside of linear time? Eden's eyes flick down to the device strapped onto Orion's forearm. Assuming that her own status as a singularity very much outside of her timeline is what allows her to view and process any changes, she can only guess that Orion - and those in his branch of the future Alliance - possess technology that buffers them from being swept into linear time. Very interesting.
Orion snorts, following the fixed attention in her eyes. He shifts, moving just enough that the face of his device is out of her direct view with the obvious intention to make it difficult for her to examine the technology. "I guess you're arrogant for a good reason."
Eden stares at him mutely. She doesn't know what to make of his attitude. He displays a confounding combination of reluctance and commitment. Perhaps he resents watching after her. Perhaps he is overwhelmed by his task. Perhaps it is neither of these things and he simply possesses a mercurial disposition.
"Alright. Well, now that the lesson is over, we really need to go."
Eden sees no point in arguing or laboring over more questions. She can make her own deductions now that the bedrock of information has been formed. Eden casts one last look at the collision of galaxies behind her, at the very end of time and the universe itself, and then allows Orion to grasp her arm again.
This time, the flash of white and the static stinging her veins is far less jarring.
Telleru
6874
When Orion set the jumper, he hadn't input any specific information - the time jump had been completely random, which seemed like the best way to remain untraceable for now. Even the brightest Alliance minds would have some difficulty tracking truly random movements, something he knows very well from his covert operations with his group. It's a strategy that would work for a while, at least for as long as it took Eden's temporal importance to take effect, and there was no telling how long that would last.
Orion resigns himself to being on the run with this scientist for the foreseeable future.
The scientist in question gazes around with temperate curiosity, easily finding her feet in the lush plum grass of the crystal forest they have materialized in. She seems content to examine her surroundings, those keen grey eyes roving over the landscape. Her eyes have been just as placidly grey the entire time he's been with her, which he thinks is unusual. Giidas are supposed to have eyes that change colors. It had been in the files. He's even seen it for himself when he was younger, even for as rare as seeing a Giidas off-planet was in his time. Eden, though, seems to remain perpetually neutral - frustratingly neutral. The only spark of true interest he had seen from her was when she was wheedling a theory from him, cogs turning whip-spun fast in her head as she pieced together everything he wasn't saying.
He won't admit, even in the grave, that it had been intimidating - that she is intimidating, even for her slim, diminutive form and her soft-spoken voice, the tone always level and measured.
Orion peels his eyes away and does his own quick examination. He doesn't even need to check his jumper to see that they've landed in Telleru. The planet itself is made from crystallized forms of various gases and had been born from the death of a nearby star merging with a massive asteroid larger than most moons. Nearly everything on the planet grows through crystalized processes, except for some vegetation that managed to thrive in an otherwise inhospitable climate. Telleru is, after all, colder than most planets care to be - not that the Tellerites mind, being covered in fine-bristled fur as they are.
Orion sets his eyes on towering shapes in the distance, the cityscape easily recognizable. He glances at the jumper screen, taking in the stardate, and trying to place it near any important events. He can't think of any - but then again, Orion isn't as versed in history or the future as Matthis. It's possible they have just landed in the pit of a great historical happening. They would have to be careful, stay under the radar.
Once again, Orion's eyes stray to his new companion. She is plainly wearing official clothing, the white lab uniform of an Alliance scientist, albeit outdated. Orion isn't much better, his own clothing a dead giveaway of his occupation. If they want to stay undercover, they will need to make some changes - and they also need supplies. Orion doesn't have anything on him other than emergency rations and he doubts Eden has anything of any use at all. The one thing he does have are untraceable credits, enough to survive on for a long time. The Alliance may be corrupt, but it pays its assassins very well.
"Let's go," he says gruffly, making a path toward the city center.
He doesn't look back, but he can sense Eden's brief hesitation before she follows along after him, quiet and unobtrusive.
He is still very much aware of her presence - of her energy. He tells himself it's the Telleru crystals that are concentrating his Xianian senses, not unlike quartz magnifying sunlight, but the excuse is weak, even to his own mind. He is simply overly aware of the sheer amount of energy Eden puts out. It makes it more difficult to clamp down on his Xianian traits, since a very stupid part of himself wants to flash his markings just to show that he can match her energy output, too.
Orion does not flash his markings. But in the furthest corners of his mind, he is thankful that only the near-extinct Xianians can sense energy in this way. It will make protecting Eden much easier.
He forges a path forward, alert as the trail through the purple forest flattens and straightens and the grass beneath his boots becomes gritty-slick marmalade crystal instead.
Although the towering spires of crystal are large, stretching high into the cotton-spun pink skies, it's very obvious that the city itself is small. There seem to be more dwellings than businesses and there aren't many foreigners aside from himself, Eden, and a handful of other off-worlders. Not a tourist city, then. They've likely landed somewhere out in the Telleru countryside. It doesn't matter.
"Find a clothing store," he tells Eden.
She tilts her head at him, oddly bird-like, and then turns just enough to point over her shoulder. "We have passed two so far. Are you looking for specific clothing?"
Orion frowns at her, following her finger to what he had thought was a dwelling. There is no signage on the door or anything else that would suggest it's a clothing store, so how -
Ah. Even though she clearly has no understanding of the language - not having a speech converter chip, an off-Alliance upgrade he'd had a few years ago - she had been able to deduce the store simply because Tellerites are exiting the dwelling with clothing in neat, shiny clear sacks. He hadn't even noticed.
Orion sets off toward the store without a word and Eden follows along, this time walking beside him. He observes from the corner of his eye how she absorbs their surroundings, somehow able to appear avidly curious and aloof at the same time.
Inside the dwelling, there is indeed a clothing store. There is nothing special about the clothing, which means the store is perfect. They do not want to be noteworthy. Orion dips his head at the emerald Tellerites manning the store and beelines to the dullest rack of clothing, a collection of dull blue and green garments. Eden trails after him, seemingly more interested in the crystal lighting of the store than the actual clothing. Sensing that he wouldn't get any valuable input from her, Orion makes a swift selection, eyeballing each of their sizes and moving quickly. He doesn't want to draw attention, not looking as obvious as they do.
The Tellerite clerk warbles a greeting in Standard, which Orion returns with a polite clip. The transaction is simple enough and Orion is scanning his credits when Eden chooses to speak up, addressing the Tellerite directly.
"Your planet has had many tectonic shifts lately," she states.
Orion furrows his brows and does a double-take when the Tellerite clerk nods solemnly.
"This shifting season has been very active. As out-worlders, you should be careful about your accommodations while you are here. Be sure to stay in a certified hotel."
"Of course," Orion agrees quickly when it looks like Eden will have more to add. "We'll be going now."
Ever-friendly, the Tellerite clerk bids them a nice day as Orion, very subtly, drags Eden out of the store. When they are outside, he pins her with a hot look. "What are you doing? You shouldn't be talking to anyone. We don't need to draw attention."
Eden appears very unbothered by his scolding. "This planet is odd," she says. "They experience seasonal earthquakes and they do nothing about it, even though much of their trade revenue is related to their mining expertise."
Orion's mouth snaps shut. He stares at Eden, utterly bewildered. "How did you know that?"
Eden arches a brow. "Ridiculous. Naturally, I heard it over the transmission in the store. A newscast was playing. Didn't you notice?"
Orion hadn't noticed. The only thing Orion had noticed was Eden's preoccupation with the lights - although, now he suspects she was simply listening intently to the news transmission, which is something he should be paying attention to, as well. It occurs to him that he is not handling his new mission very well at all. But then again, he is constantly wrong-footed by this scientist and he is in no true way prepared for a mission of this caliber. Even as a top-ranking assassin, none of his previous missions were nearly this important, and none of them required keeping someone important safe. Perhaps other Alliance soldiers enjoyed glorified bodyguard posts, but that wasn't a task for Specialists like Orion.
Leta would have been better-suited to this mission. Or even Koit, who is at least sociable.
"You could understand that?" he asks, somewhat dumbly.
"Standard is Standard," Eden answers, eyeing him critically, as if he's a simpleton. "Although different from what I am used to, it's still understandable. I imagine others will assume I am uneducated, so they are speaking more simply for my benefit."
Orion presses his lips together. Eden's mother was an omnilinguist, so it stands to reason that Eden herself would have a better grasp on languages than he previously assumed. She obviously does not need the same Orion does. This makes things both more simple and complex - it's convenient that he will not have to play translator, but at the same time, he is quickly coming to view this scientist as a loose cannon. Without a language barrier in place, it's clear that she has her own ideas about how to comport herself, and Orion doesn't think that staying undercover is one of those ideas.
He has his work cut out for him. Right now, however, they may be drawing attention to themselves standing in front of the clothing store. Orion breathes out, glancing around. "We shouldn't linger here. We need a place to stay."
"Yes, a certified hotel," Eden agrees. Her grey eyes are already scanning the surrounding dwellings, even as Orion wraps his fingers loosely around her elbow and guides them down a random street.
His aim is the taller buildings in this small town, as it stands to reason that lodgings would be in larger, more populated areas, even if population is relative. Sure enough, his gaze snags on the Tellerite symbol he knows to mean hotel. The building itself is rigid, made of the same crystalline stone as other dwellings, but the windows are tinted in a vast array of hues that Orion finds garish. But the accommodations seem nice enough and the hotel clerk is kind enough to give him a room with two beds without his prompting. Eden is mercifully quiet throughout, but even without looking at her, he can practically feel the way her mind is positively vibrating with energy, taking in their surroundings like a sponge.
At least she isn't drawing attention to herself. Quiet observation is good. Preferable, even. If she is caught up with their surroundings, then Orion won't have to answer any uncomfortable questions or try to explain the complexities of time travel that he barely understands.
In the coming days, Orion will learn that Eden's quietness does not necessarily mean that his days will be quiet as well.
A/N: Happy Pride Month! Here's hoping for a good start to the summer! As for Eden and Orion, is their start good or rocky? They're interesting personalities, Eden especially. What will they get up to on Telleru? Well, there was a Facebook poll about it... ;)
As always, be honest. I can take it. Please stay safe and healthy!
~Rae