"Sorry for keeping you," I apologized. Hoshi nodded, unable to speak as her tear glands had regenerated enough to allow a second wave to overcome her eyes and thusly her voice.

"It's no problem at all," shrugged Dr. Quilla. "The Royal Faerie Police won't be here until tomorrow. However, we must get moving. While you were unconscious, Frank, Hoshiya here and I packed all the necessary supplies." She motioned to the table she had been standing behind. "Grab that manual from the table. You'll need it in the future." I obeyed her commands, sticking it under my arm. Once I came back, she gave a wave of her hand to indicate both of us to follow her. "I'll lead you two to the door of the space project, but further than that, Hoshi, you must stay back."

"Why?" demanded Hoshi, articulate enough to demand a few last seconds with me.

"With the space project, we're operating outside of our funding's mandate. I don't want to risk even a former employee of Fyora seeing any of our illegal activities with their own eyes. Until now, we had been slating the part of the budget poured towards that fund as 'additional supplies' and 'catering services,'" explained Dr. Quilla.

"So that's why the caf was always closed," I mused.

"What does it matter?" Hoshi retorted. "You said this place was going to shut down anyway."

Dr. Quilla considered this logic for a moment, tapping her chin. "I suppose I am contradicting my previous statement … all right. You both may come."

Dr. Quilla led us down a labyrinth of corridors, taking turns, stairways, elevators, and passages that I hadn't known existed in the Institute. (And I knew the place fairly well—I had done some independent unauthorized exploring back when I first arrived.) Dr. Quilla obliterated the obstacle of locks with a single stroke of a key card, and soon we had traveled into the deep belly of the Institute—the mythical, alleged 'upper level' that everyone only heard rumors about. The head scientists, even Dr. Quilla herself, had always insisted that these large rooms on the top floor were for storage alone—but no interns or volunteers really believed that.

"It lives!" I said with a whistle, ducking down to make my way through the doorway. Hoshi looked unnerved by the cramped nature of the walls, closing in tightly from either side. We were traveling down a hallway that led to a highly-armored door at the end with all sorts of security technology at its lock.

"If you noticed, the hallways were purposefully built claustrophobically, so as to discourage curious faeries from venturing too far. Of course, they would've had to go through a dozen security terminals beforehand, so it would be unlikely for them to arrive here. Still, we were absolutely paranoid about security," elaborated Dr. Quilla, and Hoshi shivered.

"You guys did a good job with that whole 'claustrophobia' thing." Faeries, as winged creatures, required a great deal of open space. Dr. Quilla smiled at Hoshi conciliatorily, stopping as we got to the door.

"Don't worry, we'll be in a bigger room very soon."

She seemed to make a sort of elaborate sign language in front of the different security devices, going through each with an almost elegant ease. After a few moments of fiddling, and a few curses under her breath, the door sounded a loud 'bang,' indicating some sort of deadbolt had been opened. With that sound, Dr. Quilla instructed us to step back, and as we did so the door began to split in beautiful, intricate geometry, leading to an enormous room inside.

We entered, and I was quickly struck by the grand scale of the interior. It was in a dome shape above, composed of metal plates that seemed to be retractable, judging by the mechanism attached to each piece of the dome. At the circular wall, there were a variety of machines set up, each leading to a set of tangled wires that indicated a power circuit. Also branching from this circuit was an enormous wire like a trunk, surrounded by a million other wires like ivy vines, connecting to the main attraction in the middle: the rocket.

Immediately, I was struck by how incredibly phallic it looked. It appeared like an obelisk, only rounder around the middle, with tiny little wings at the bottom. It was completely silver, save for the pair of faerie wings painted on the side, composed of all the colors of the elements, a common symbol for a united Faeriekind. On its side was a huge orange container, hooked to it with what seemed like weak bonds compared to the rest of the sturdy structure. There was only one window on the end closest to the ceiling, and the window was tinted to make looking inside impossible. There was a door right beneath the window that was already open, however, giving me an idea of what might be inside. A ladder led up to this opened door, and Dr. Quilla indicated it with a wave of her hand.

"That's what you'll be loading into the ship on."

"I see," I said, my voice shakier than I would've liked. Hoshi next to me was simply slack-jawed, unable to believe what the muscle of science had created. Dr. Quilla reached over and closed her mouth with a snap.

"Dr. Frank, may I ask to talk to you in private for a moment? Just to debrief what's in that charming little manual you have," requested Dr. Quilla, though from her, requests were automatically translated to orders. I nodded numbly, and followed her over to a place near the computers, out of earshot of Hoshi. I don't think she was really that bothered on her exclusion, however—her attention was directed at the mammoth rocket and its intricate technology, and nothing else.

"What's up?" I asked Dr. Quilla, trying to keep the moment light. She grasped my arm gravely, sucking any nonchalance from the moment.

"Frank, this is a serious event. If you don't listen to me now, you could end up dead, or worse."

"What does 'worse' imply?"

"Having your organs pop in the vacuum of space while still living."

"Oh. Okay."

"But seriously. I can tell you right now about the procedure for lifting off—the computers and I can help you from the ground, but once you're out of orbit, your umbilical chord's cut."

Her debriefing would have been confusing to any layman—Dr. Quilla was not particularly good at teaching, though one of the most brilliant scientist I had ever met—but with a combination of gestures, noises, and head-slamming, she managed to spell out what I had to do. She referenced the book often, and told me that if my memory failed, the book was my new Bible. She gave it back to me and then looked me up and down warily.

"So Dr. Frank Sloth will be Faeriekind's first astronaut."

"A what?"

"Someone who explores space. I coined the term myself. Do you like it?"

"It's kind of lame, actually."

"That's why you were still such a low-ranking scientist despite your intelligence—you have the biggest mouth in the world," chastised Dr. Quilla, slapping me on the arm. Her slaps were meant to be playful, but they always left the nastiest bruises. I winced, promising myself internally to tend to the wound later. "Now seriously, Frank. I will miss you dearly. You were one of the brightest young scientists I ever had the pleasure of teaching—and to be honest, I really didn't believe you had any responsibility in that Feepit incident. Though drowning the Feepit was irresponsible," she added sternly.

"Yes, ma'am," I cooed mockingly. She ignored my sarcasm.

"Though Faeriekind may have abandoned logic and science, perhaps you can continue it on other frontiers. There might well be life on that little planet, and I am giving you the mission to give them the gift of knowledge and self-improvement through science. And as always, you have my blessing." She reached for my hand and gave it a delicate kiss, a chivalrous gesture. Though I admired Dr. Quilla and at times found her sexually exciting, I knew full well that she was a male counterpart among the female faerie race and thusly not at all my type. I took the gesture anyway as a sign of platonic love, returning it to her. She looked up at me, inhaled deeply, and then gave an approving nod. "Go."

I turned to leave, but Dr. Quilla seemed to retract her statement of farewell as soon as she dealt it. She grabbed my arm and twisted me around, beginning to pour on another word of advice. "That Hoshiya girl … you're lucky to have her. Few faeries would be so free of vanity, and love you after your transformation. It's a little bit hard for me to look at you right now, honestly."

"Thanks, Dr. Quilla, you really know how to jog the self-esteem," I replied dryly.

"Seriously, Frank. Be thankful for what fate's granted you. I may be a faerie steeped in facts, but I can sense an everlasting bond between the two of you." Then, she added something uncharacteristically crass. "Don't fuck it up."

"Distance makes the heart grow fonder, Dr. Quilla! Oh, and do you think I could get some better clothes than these? I mean, I know I've got fabulous pectorals now, but this new planet might get a little bit cold for chest-bearing after a while."

Dr. Quilla smiled. "They're in your supplies."

I smiled back, and gave her a light-hearted wave good-bye—there was no use leaving her in a fit of angst. Besides, I was urgent to get back to Hoshi for one last farewell kiss, before I left port forever.

By the time I got back to her, Hoshi had fully accepted the existence of the rocket, but still was obviously physically uncomfortable with it. She drifted away from it towards the wall, leaning her body against that wall despite all of the buttons she risked pushing. When she saw me approaching, she ran at me like she had seen me through a field of flowers, jumping up so I caught her legs under my arms, her own wrapped around my neck. She put me in a position where it was impossible to not kiss her, and so we did—one final, passionate, going-away kiss, that lasted longer to compensate for the times we would not be able to give each other kisses in the morning—kisses in the shower—kisses at breakfast—kisses on the roof.

In that moment, I could focus on nothing but Hoshi, and the world was bliss inside her—there was no lingering, looming voice that threatened her sanity and purity, only her delicate body, unfolding itself before me for me to claim. She gave me to herself so freely, so willingly, it made her love look like a ballerina dance—effortless and serene, gliding across the stage. She was crying again, and her tears fell into my mouth in a salty expression of sorrow. She terminated the kiss and rested her chin on my shoulder, her breathing laborious.

"Don't leave, Frank … I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you …."

"I love you too, Hoshi, I love you too. I love you so much. I'll miss you like you'll fucking never know. You'll never fucking know. Oh God …"

I was crying too, now, down her back. She tried to console me by stroking the back of my head, but the tears seemed to be endless. As much as Hoshi tried to calm me, they kept coming. Eventually, I let Hoshi down with tears still leaking from my eyes, stroking her hair softly.

"You have to go now, Frank," she managed to pull out from her mouth, her eyes seemingly struggling to contain another deluge of tears.

"Yeah," I agreed, but didn't move. "Yeah, I probably do."

Eventually, some part of me agreed to go, and overruled the rest of my body. I began retreating, turning my back away from Hoshi, knowing that I would run back if I had walked away with my face towards her. I picked up the manual on the way, having dropped it to catch Hoshi.

I approached the ladder and took one laborious step after another. It wasn't hard to ascend the rungs—but with each step, I knew I was getting further from my old life, and closer to a new one, filled with endless wrong turns and dead end signs that I could unintentionally plow right through. Fear clung at my heart—fear of dying, naturally, before even making it to outer space, but also fear of never seeing that gorgeous face ever again; a suggestion that was, to me, like saying the sun would never rise.

I climbed into the cabin without looking back once I got to the top of the ladder. Though everything was shifted so horizontal had become vertical, from what I could see the inside was fairly cozy, though slightly cramped. I moved towards the front of the cabin, as Dr. Quilla had instructed me, and searched for a big, black seat surrounded by controls that would indicate the captain's seat. I found it in seconds and sat down tentatively, looking around the controls for the headset I was supposed to equip. While I was looking, I pulled on my seat belt that involved latching three separate buckles, all intertwining to make it nearly impossible to breathe. Finally, I located the headset, and grabbed it from its hook on the wall, putting it in place.

"Dr. Quill? Are you there?"

"Yes, Frank. Are you belted in?"

"Three separate belts, yep. I'd say I'm pretty secure." I tried to use flippancy to qualm my fears. It didn't work.

"No security will prepare you fully for the G-forces, but I think you'll be able to handle it. The transformation made you skull fairly thick."

"Is that supposed to be an insult?"

"Take it as you will. Are you ready to launch?"

"Hold on."

I twisted around in my seat, barely able to move my shoulders. Out of the corner of my eyes, I glimpsed Hoshi, fretting at the bottom of the rocket next to Dr. Quilla. Hoshi seemed to be screaming something at Dr. Quilla with the woman of science ignoring her with ease. "Dr. Quilla?"

"Yes, Frank?"

"What's Hoshi so upset about?"

"Don't worry. I think this whole experience is just over-stimulating to her."

"... Tell her I love her for me."

"Didn't you already do that?"

"Dr. Quilla, have you ever been in love?"

"With a fellow faerie?"

"Yes."

"Well then, yes."

"Then you should know 'I love you' can't grow old."

Dr. Quilla on the ground took her mouth away from the microphone and said something to Hoshi, inaudible from where I was. Hoshi began to weep at this comment, and then looked up to the window, mouthing 'I love you' up at me obsessively.

I watched her while I spoke into the headset. "Yeah, you can launch now, Doc."

"All right. Brace yourself. On the count of ten. Ten … "

My eyes were locked on Hoshi, who had crumpled to the ground and was catching her tears with her hands, like a birdbath catches water.

"Nine …"

I knew that the position I currently strained my head in was ridiculously dangerous for take off, what with the whiplash that could occur from the G-forces, but my eyes seemed unable to rip themselves from Hoshi.

"Eight …"

Eventually I managed to twist my head back forward, staring up into the sky. The dome was opening up ahead of me, filling my vision with a crystal blue. The sky was the limit, but the limit seemed undefined.

"Seven … six …"

I gave a final glance back to Hoshi. The rocket was rumbling beneath me, indicating that it seemed to be ready to lift at any moment, but verifying Hoshi's safety took priority to my life. She was still there, and aimlessly threw a kiss to the air with reckless abandon.

"Five … four …"

The rocket was trembling badly now, and I could see a bright flame bursting from beneath the orange tank. I looked around me; all of the material in the cabin vibrated as if it were a child shaking from hypothermia.

"Three … two … one …"

The rocket suddenly seemed to go through me, rising upwards and leaving me behind. But I was still strapped in the seat, and I climbed up into the blue with the rocket, slightly terrified. My knuckles were white from holding to the arm rest, and although Dr. Quilla assured me that she would get me through the atmosphere and out of orbit safely and remotely, she had then proceeded to warn me that even under her control, she couldn't guarantee something wouldn't malfunction.

I tried to relax, but this was an impossible feat. The rocket kept making squealing noises, as if it were coming apart. The few screws that stuck out of the wall seemed to jangle more than they should have, and I wanted nothing more than to grab a screw driver and tighten them, despite the bumpiness. The heat and air conditioning in the cabin seemed to be askew, The fact that I now realized that the orange tank was in fact a large drum filled with gas also made my situation perilous—if even a spark lit in the wrong place, that which was meant to propel me into space could instead, with a fiery explosion, propel me into Hell.

This wasn't even to mention the fact that my features felt like they were distorting yet again—something was pressing me back mercilessly in the chair, and as much as I struggled against it, it succeeded still in pushing me back. It was as if I was deep underwater, crushed by the pressure of a thousand gallons of water. It made breathing nearly impossible, and my eyes rolled back deliriously in their sockets. Outside, the sky was beginning to transition to a carefree blue into a darker shade, growing progressively darker as the rocket roared higher. Soon, stars became visible in what I assumed to be daytime, appearing lightly at first and then growing in intensity to their normal brightness at nighttime. The sky, too, had changed into its slinky black dress of nighttime, all in the span of minutes.

A voice crackled through on the headset, just barely distinguishable at Dr. Quilla's. "You're out there now, Frank. I'm checking the coordinates—they should already be set. Autopilot should get you there in about … three years-ish. Feel free to explore the cabin. Just be sure to look at the manual first."

"Ok." My voice was quavering far more than a single word could let on, which is why I limited myself. I didn't want to convey to Dr. Quilla the utter terror I was experiencing. There was a pause, and then her voice returned.

"Yep, you should be good, Frank. You're just about getting out of orbit now. Any last words to Faeriekind?"

"D-d-damn the m-m-man," I barely managed to stutter.

"Always the political one, Frank. Maybe you could teach that democracy to those aliens, if they're there."

"Y-y-yeah." There suddenly was a struggle on the other side, blurred over by static, and then a new voice broke through the other side, more garbled with static and sounding further away.

"Frank? Frank, are you there? Are you alive?"

"Y-y-yeah."

"Frank, it's Hoshi. You're breaking up like crazy. Can you still here me?"

"L-l-little bit."

"Frank, I love you. Never forget that, ok?"

"O-o-okay."

I wasn't sure if she heard me—the radio went dead after her last comment. The autopilot signal turned on inside the cabin, and I was left to face the stars alone. It was disturbingly quiet in the cabin, and I couldn't find anything in the immediate vicinity to occupy the emptiness in my ears. I was too afraid to unstrap myself and search in the back, so stayed firmly in place. Dr. Quilla had supplied me with a map inside the manual to chart out where my destination was in relation to stars that we knew, but I was too fatigued to grab it, or leaf over any of the pages of instructions in the manual.

Left with only one thing left to do, I stared forward into the deep clutches of space. It chilled me to the core—it was a vast and bodiless predator that lay before me, waiting to consume any thoughtless wanderer. Just staring at its expanse seemed to trigger the voice inside of me, relating with the darkness outside far more than it related with the inherent light faerie qualities I was born with. I could feel it booming in my skull, overwhelming my other senses. I cried out to shove it back, and I succeeded temporarily, falling back on the captain's chair heavily. It would attack later, with varying degrees of success—but a war between the mind is a war the subject always loses. And I would, eventually, lose.

I leaned back my head on the chair and closed my eyes, the backs of my eyelids varying little from the landscape before me, yet comforting in my familiarity. As the lights twinkled behind my shut eyes, a single vision formulated in my mind, outside of the clutches of that terrible, sinister voice. It was a single, immaculate vision, with her voice, momentarily, the only residue in my ears:

Hoshi.