The fireplace crackled. Trance knelt before it with her hands folded on her lap watching the flames flicker and dance. Sparks floated up the flue like they wished to escape and join with the stars that burned in the sky above. She let her eyes fall out of focus and all the colors blended together. Today marked the passage of another year. It was a strange thing, this time—the measurement of minutes, hours, days, and years. She still struggled sometimes to know not where she was, but when she was. Had she drifted into the future, or in a moment of reflection slipped into the past? Most of her existence had been timeless. Time wasn't a linear thing, like a plot on a map, but an ever-shifting ever-changing thing. A tree with deep roots and branches that ever grew, ever stretched and ever shifted. It took a conscious effort to remain bound within the human perception of the Universe.
At first, she'd done it out of duty and necessity. Maybe a small amount of curiosity. She was a curious being by nature—always looking for a new way to experience life. Harper once asked her what immortality was like. She didn't have the heart to tell him how boring and dull everything seemed after a while. There was nothing new in the grand scheme of things. History repeated itself over and over with different faces in different places but always, always the same story. Now she lived that story, and from this perspective, it was one full of tastes and smells; of beauty and wonder; and of life and love. No word existed to describe how wondrous it was.
Footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Two sets, both measured, but one set heavier than the other. Dylan and Rommie. She blinked the fireplace back into focus again just as the lounge door cracked open, allowing a cone of white light to spill into the dimness of the space. Trance glanced over her shoulder.
"Are you sure you don't want a room?" Dylan asked as his form and Rommie's blocked out the light again.
"I will be alright. I don't need to sleep and have no need for privacy."
Trance smiled and stood. Dylan started, then smiled too.
"Trance, I didn't expect anyone this late. I hope we're not interrupting?"
Trance shook her head. "No, you aren't. I expected Rommie. Though, I am glad to see you had a good time."
Dark circles stretched beneath Dylan's eyes, which, given the hour, wasn't a surprise. He was relaxed, though, and happy. Free for once of the weight of the Universe he carried on his back. Perhaps even reassured by the celebration tonight that his efforts weren't in vain.
Moments like these would be important when times grew tough again. She'd seen in her visions the multitudes of struggles to come and dangers that awaited. They had each other, their hope, and their faith. It would be enough. It had to be enough. He had come so far in such a short time. She'd pulled the strings, but he'd made it happen as she always knew he would. Dylan didn't believe in destiny or fate. He believed you made your own future and if the ending wasn't desirable, you could create your own ending. His force of personality and eternal optimism had infected even her. She rubbed the ring on her left hand. Life was better and far more fun when you believed in more than one perfect possible future.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I am exhausted. Goodnight ladies."
"Goodnight," Trance said.
"Goodnight, Captain."
Dylan left and the door shut behind him.
Trance stood and moved to a plush, floral armchair and curled her legs, now clothed in soft pajama pants, beneath her as Rommie stepped further into the room. "Computer, turn lights to forty-percent."
The lounge was a cozy space somewhere between a library and a breakfast nook and offered guests on this floor a place to gather together for meals or entertainment if they desired. One wall sported floor to ceiling bookshelves heavy with old-fashioned paper books with colorful covers. In the back, a table large enough for the entire crew stood alongside a counter stocked with fresh fruit, snacks, and drinks. A couch and a couple of armchairs surrounded a wide, stone fireplace. Above it a large viewscreen flashed the Commonwealth emblem, waiting for their commands. On the mantle sat a timeline in picture frames of Tarazed's history.
Rommie stopped in front of the first photograph, an image of Dylan's Sara, the woman who'd founded this world so in three-hundred years Dylan might find a stronghold of the old Commonwealth. She reached out a finger and touched the frame, lips pursed.
"Has Dylan seen this?" Rommie asked.
Trance shook her head. "I don't think he's been in her long enough to have a look around. It's amazing, isn't it? She did this all for him."
"Love seems to be a powerful motivator." Rommie turned her back to the mantle and took a seat at the chair beside Trance. She nodded at Trance's hand. "Something you would be more qualified to speak to than me. I see that you've acquired a new piece of jewelry. Congratulations."
A smile spread across Trance's face unrestrained. Bubbles popped in her stomach, each one releasing a sense that for the present everything was as it should be. Like a puzzle after the last piece has clicked, or an oil painting once the final flourish has been added. Even the dark and frightening things she'd seen in possible futures were less terrifying because the light inside, fueled by the love she held for Harper and her friends, burned so brightly. Rommie was almost correct. Love wasn't just a powerful motivator. It was the most powerful motivator. Hadn't she changed the carefully laid plans of the stars themselves for a chance at love?
Best not to linger on that.
"Thank you. It took me by surprise, he never said a thing."
"You didn't see it coming?" Rommie asked, her eyebrow raised and Trance laughed.
"Not at all." She held her hand out in front of her and studied the ring. In the firelight, it appeared to have a bit of flame illuminating it from the inside. Outside, under the flash of fireworks, she'd toasted to the paths their lives could take if only they let them. "Six months ago, I made a promise not to look into the future where Harper and I were concerned. Sometimes I can't help it, but I've kept my promise as much as I could."
"Is it difficult to live in a way not conducive to—for the lack of a better phrase—your programming?"
"No, it isn't easy. But—" she paused and considered her words. Life, in many ways, had been better since she made the decision. Different. She loved the chaos of surprises and the joy that flowed like a fountain when Harper caught her off guard as he had tonight. This was why a star, a being of energy and fire, dreamed herself to life. Not to save the Universe, but to experience it—pain, inconvenience, sorrow, pleasure, and all. "It is worth the struggle. Were you programmed to love us, Rommie?"
Rommie's eyes narrowed and her brows turned downward the way they did when she was presented with a problem she couldn't immediately solve.
"No. I was programmed to be concerned for the safety of my crew and to protect life first and foremost."
"But you love us still. That must be difficult."
After a moment of silence, Rommie nodded. "I think I see what you mean."
"Now," Trance said, sensing it was time to change the subject, "Harper is sound asleep and I have a couple more hours before I need to do the same. Did you want to ring in the New Year with a game of cards? I think I saw a deck on one of the bookshelves."
Trance slipped into the room she shared with Harper hours later. He slept curled up on his side, face smashed into the pillow, one foot sticking out of from under the blanket. The blanket, too, had ridden down, leaving his shoulders and chest bare. He didn't move as she crept into the dark room with practiced stealth. Skills she'd once used to remove precious gemstones from protected museum exhibits she now used to prepare for bed while her lover slept. Peaceful tonight, his breaths coming in steady and deep. She left her bathrobe draped over the desk chair and crossed the room. It amazed her how still he could be. How his frenetic energy calmed for eight hours a night—when he let himself sleep for eight hours.
First, she straightened the blankets, pulled them back over his foot and up to his neck, then she slipped in beside him. It was her bedtime routine, and it didn't matter that they were planetside instead of on Andromeda. She only needed a fraction of the sleep Harper did. Only a few hours. Enough to heal her body from the daily stresses of organic life and give her a chance to quiet and refresh her mind. It made bedtime with someone who needed more sleep difficult. So she rested beside him each night as he fell asleep, often deep in meditation and got up again to tend to her plants or spend time with Rommie and Beka. When sleepiness finally found her, she climbed in beside him so they might wake together.
He liked to wake up beside her and she liked to see him happy.
Harper stirred and snuggled up to her. Wrapped an arm around her torso and drew her closer to his blanket-warmed skin. She snuggled in, comfortable under the weight of his arm.
"I love you," he muttered, words slurred together in a combination of sleep and leftover alcohol. His breath tickled her neck.
"I love you too," she said, though she suspected he couldn't hear, and closed her eyes.
Sleep usually came easily once she settled into bed, but tonight it danced away. In the morning, the sun would rise on another new year, and tonight she finally understood the hope organics felt when the numbers on the calendar flipped. So many new beginnings, so many new possibilities. The anticipation excited her, sped up her heart. It was tempting to take a peek and see what the next 366 days held for them.
A cute little sniffle of a snore brought her back to her room, the bed she shared, and the feel of Harper beside her. The present. Tomorrow was a gift. A new life with Harper as his fiancee. It was best not to open it quite yet.