- Chapter 2: Chaos Theory -

A mathematical study of systems that are very sensitive to initial conditions; small changes at one point in time can produce widely different results later on. Also known as the butterfly effect.

Sometimes - actually most of the time - life is funny, and likes playing tricks when you're not looking. Sometimes you meet people under the strangest of circumstances, and end up remembering them for a long while. It was like that on the morning of July 22, 2250, when Time joined in with his pranks and I ended up running late to a certain important scientific conference. I still don't know why things happened the way they did, but - I wouldn't have had it any other way.

I had a habit of attending things early - punctuality was one of my few strong suits - so I could cite some pretty good reasons why I had been late (and they would all be true). But that's beside the point. It mostly had to do with the amazingly many security measures in Geneva, Switzerland - understandable, since that was the European seat of government, home to the Prime Minister himself - but to a rushed traveler it was tedious. Even though I was authorized to skip some of the check-ins, it was part of the Prime Minister's request that we keep a low profile, and I was not one to argue.

The security guards themselves were all right, though. Here in this station there were five of them, men and women with tranquil smiles that offset the sharpness of their eyes. They talked about the windstorms and dust storms outside, about the never-ending drought, and other things, but only carelessly, in passing. I think they were used to their insulated city, with its protective dome and its simulated blue skies, its ventilation and its artificial grassy parks. It was not that way for me - back home I'd gone out countless times to map the wasteland in Spain, with no real results in terms of city conscientiousness. That was one of the reasons I was here.

But the wait was long. Each person took up about ten minutes, and I was the twentieth in line, only thirty minutes away from missing the conference. Having nothing better to do I turned to the man behind me. He was fairly short, with dark brown hair, furrowed brows and impatient hazel eyes - uniform but irked Italian features. The old traveling clothes he wore clashed with his dissatisfied frown, the haughty frown of an impatient nobleman. When I first noticed him he had been fiddling with his watch, but now he was simply staring straight ahead, looking more irritated by the minute. It was kind of fascinating to watch, really.

I must have been gazing too long, because ten seconds later he glared at me.

"What the hell are you looking at?"

Here was someone who took no nonsense. "Oh, nothing," I said quickly. "You're new here too, aren't you?"

"What business is that of yours?" he accused.

"You're right, it's not," I admitted. "But hey, if a guy arrives in a foreign city alone he likes having someone to talk to. Don't you?"

From years of experience, I had learned that a smile (genuine or not) could break ice of almost any thickness, and now seemed a fairly good time to try. But for some reason it failed on this man. His thin mouth tightened and his eyes hardened, deflecting my every attempt.

"Even if I was," he said pointedly, "I wouldn't want to talk to you."

That stung a little, but I tried again anyway.

"Am I that boring to you?"

"Yes."

"But you're not."

That, apparently, hit home and he huffed angrily. "Whatever."

"What's your name?" I ventured before he could recover.

"None of your business. Now leave me alone."

"I can't. Unless you would like to go first, which you could, and I would let you, since you seem to be in more of a hurry anyway."

I had no idea why I was still talking to him. It was a basic social conduct rule that if someone didn't want to talk to you, you let the matter drop and ignored him. At least that was what everyone had been taught from childhood, but I couldn't find it in me to do that.

Besides, he was already pushing past me to take his spot in front. "You said it, not me."

"That's fine." It was nice to see that his face had lightened, just a bit. I grinned. "Just don't forget about me when you go!"

The Italian spluttered. "What - you're acting like we're friends already!"

"But we are!"

"No, we aren't. We talked for a maximum of ten minutes."

"All the more reason to remember you!" I interjected, almost tasting victory. "I'd miss you, you know!"

"You - " He glanced at me, flushed angrily and turned away. "Shut it."

"I can't do that."

By now we had reached the front of the line, and he stepped forward to put his luggage in the scanning machine. He'd brought a lot with him: first a briefcase, then a valise, and finally a large suitcase big enough to hold a child (or so I thought). For the first time I wondered what he could be doing here. Maybe he was a tourist, or staying with relatives, or just passing through on his way to another city. But the briefcase seemed to suggest serious business... So many possibilities, but I wanted to find out.

Then I saw him speak to the security guard at the front, pull something out of his pocket and flash it. The guard's eyes widened and he nodded quickly. My Italian friend then took his bags; it seemed he had been exempted from the standard procedure. That should have been enough to tell me something, but for some reason it didn't reach me at the time.

"Are you really going now?" I asked when he turned to leave. "You won't even tell me your name?"

He glanced at me almost with surprise, and looked like he might want to say something, but abruptly stopped himself.

"You, mister, need to stop being nosy. We don't even know each other. And chances are you'll never see me again."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." He was already walking quickly away. I ran after him.

"Wait!"

"What - ow!"

I had overestimated the time it would take to reach him, and he had turned to meet me in the same moment, which meant I crashed straight into him. He didn't completely lose his balance, and his suitcase didn't fall, but the briefcase went flying and popped open on the floor, spilling a great number of official-looking - papers.

He had paper.

Which was strange, because barely anyone used paper these days. With everything being online, electronic, and instantaneous, and traceable in exactly the same ways, paper had simply become an unnecessary burden. Only the most important official documents were kept in paper form, and in the most secret places.

Yet this Italian had a whole pile of them.

I checked to make sure he was all right. At least no bodily injury had resulted, except the injury to his pride. He took one look at the mess and exploded. "Now look what you did, you klutz!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know it would - I'll help - "

"No," he snapped and bent down to retrieve his belongings. When I followed suit something suddenly came over him. He glanced at me again, but this time it was not a mere curious glance. His eyes narrowed, and in them was dark hostility. "Get the fuck away from me."

I stared at him, open-mouthed. "What?"

"I said, get the fuck away from me. I know who you are - don't think I was fooled by your tricks even for a minute. You've failed and you won't ever get what you want off of me. Now get back to where you belong, or else."

"What do you mean?" I couldn't understand his terrifyingly angry expression. "I wasn't stalking you! I come from Spain, I only arrived here today - "

"Enough." While I was talking the Italian had re-packed his files and stood up, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't care what you say. If you dare try anything on me, you'll have the security guards to reckon with."

He didn't wait for me to answer, just strode out the door and vanished around the corner, walking at a brisk pace like he had someplace important to go.

I stood there for a while until the guard at the scanning machine, who still held my bags, shouted for me to retrieve them before he put them away. So I went back, took what I had, and returned to the same doorway through which the Italian had left. Maybe he had mistaken me for someone else, but either way, it seemed we wouldn't be seeing each other again. He was right about that. Still, it was a damper on an already strange day.

Remembering I also had somewhere to be, I sighed and stepped out the door. And that was when I saw the shiny green card lying facedown on the pavement before my feet.

I picked it up and turned it over. It was a government-issued ID of the highest order, with the Prime Minister's seal printed gold in the background. On it I read the following.

NAME: LOVINO VARGAS
DATE OF BIRTH: 17/03/2225
PLACE OF BIRTH: ROME
REGION: ITALY

*OWNER OF THIS CARD IS AUTHORIZED TO PASS ALL LEVELS OF SECURITY AND ENTER ALL GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS.*

And, of course, at the top was a picture of that very same Italian man.

By the time I got to my hotel room and left again my head was spinning, and almost in the literal sense. I just couldn't believe the coincidence - I had run into one of the most powerful men in Europe, and struck up a conversation with him out of nowhere. No wonder he had thought me suspicious. But I hadn't known who he was - until now.

Lovino Vargas. Astrophysicist. I had seen the name in many scientific papers, but never his face. He kept a low profile and almost never appeared in public talks; but from what I could tell, he was one of the most well-known, accomplished scientists in the field of astronomy.

And he was a member of the conference I was now going to.

Having arrived at the Generell Hall of the Prime Minister, I checked in at the front desk and took the elevator to the fourth floor. While I waited I pulled out Lovino Vargas' ID and stared for a moment at his handsome frowning face. Then I took out mine. It was rather hard to compare the two - I was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, twenty-six, lowly low-paid environmentalist; he was an entirely different story. But if it weren't for our pictures and personal information, our cards would have looked exactly the same.

The elevator dinged and I stepped out with a little trepidation, wondering what he would say when I arrived, bearing his ID. Well, mostly I wondered how he'd react to seeing me again.

I reached the room, which had a metal door equipped with both a fingerprint and ID scanner, and probably a bunch of other hidden security devices to pick out impostors. But I was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo and I was meant to be here today. I pressed my thumb into the small grey square, a beep sounded, and the door slid open.

It appeared that I was still on time.

Although the meeting room seemed a hub of activity, on closer inspection there were only seven people present. It didn't look very much like a meeting, aside from the furnishings - neatly organized tables surrounded a raised podium in the center, with a large darkened screen in the back. The walls were cold and bare along with the grey floor tiles, giving the whole place the air of a courthouse.

Not that I had spent all this time admiring the room. I'd been looking around for a certain Italian - and there he was.

He sat near the back, face stone-cold and very still, so still I could have mistaken him for one of the statues by the wall. But it was impossible to miss that strange frozen look in his eyes, because it was directed straight at me.

Which was - well - not very surprising.

"Oh hey, you're finally here!" a voice piped up from behind me. "You must be Antonio!"

The speaker was a tall man with strikingly pale hair and grinning crimson eyes, wearing an official blue uniform, who had made his way over upon seeing me enter. His smile dwarfed even mine as he stretched out a hand.

"I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt! But call me Gil. It's very nice to meet you," and he shook my hand strongly.

"The pleasure's all mine," I said, successfully thwarted. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Oh, that's all right, don't worry about it!" He waved it off cheerily. "Francis does that all the time - you might've heard of him, Francis Bonnefoy, he's the mission director. He made me the pilot, can you believe it? Can't wait to get my hands on that ship," he sighed, his eyes dreamy. "I've heard she's a real beauty..."

He had a way of making people feel instantly at ease, and I couldn't help a grin at his enthusiasm. "If you'll excuse my saying so, you sound like you're in love."

Gilbert took one look at me and laughed heartily.

"I like you, Antonio," he exclaimed, not even denying what I had said. "We're going to be great friends, I just know it! The Prime Minister really is good at picking the best."

"Oh - you must be joking. I'm only an environmentalist," I said, still thinking of Lovino Vargas.

"What difference does that make? As far as I know, you guys are probably the best scientists out there! Saving the world all the time. That's a lot more than what some of the others claim to do."

I wondered that he could talk of things like this in a monitored government building. But Gilbert seemed to know his limits. He was suddenly stopped, anyway, by a loud commotion at the door.

"My friends! You're all here already - did I miss anything?"

A man wearing the shabbiest clothes possible waltzed into the room - almost literally waltzed. He had rather long blond hair that reached down to his shoulders, very sunny features, and the most mischievous grin I had ever seen. I soon realized why, when he stepped into a corner and slipped out of his dreadful garb to reveal a clean grey suit. There was something quite flamboyant in his manner that marked him as a Frenchman.

"Francis - I thought you'd never get here!" Gilbert shouted, going to shake his hand, and I followed suit. We all exchanged greetings and then the director took his seat at the front of the room. The meeting was finally starting - and I still hadn't been able to speak to Lovino. But there was an empty seat next to him.

As I neared him the Italian gave me his signature glare, not yet recovered from the shock of seeing me there. "What exactly are you doing?" he hissed when I reached his table.

"Sitting," I said cheerily, and confirmed that fact by doing so. "Nice to see you again. I'm Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. And before I forget" - I pulled out the card and his eyes widened - "this is yours. You dropped it on your way out."

For a split second Lovino's eyes flicked between me and the card. Then he snatched it out of my hand and swiftly tucked it away.

"Thanks," he muttered.

"I really wasn't stalking you, you know."

"Well, I sure know that now," grumbled Lovino. "It was my mistake and I apologize. But for your information, the papers were a decoy."

"Really?"

"Yes - and I have more than one ID, too, so don't think you can just take mine and run with it."

I put my hands up and hoped he could see that I meant well.

"Don't worry, it's not going to happen. I give you my word of honor."

Lovino sniffed, but his eyes had grown a little less distrustful, which was progress.

"Anyway, just a tip - don't start conversations with random strangers before they've passed security. It kind of helps with personal safety, in case you didn't know."

"Yes, but at least I didn't judge wrong this time!" I grinned at him. "It's not every day I meet an astrophysicist on the way to the Prime Minister's."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Everything, of course!"

The Italian made an indignant noise and glanced away. I was about to reply with something nice and complimentary but a loud voice came from the podium, and both Lovino and I stopped talking to listen.

"I call to order this meeting of the Genevan scientific committee, this day of July 22, 2250," Francis proclaimed with gravity, "with regards to Space Mission Number 20 of this year, with a very significant aim." He paused for a minute to look around at us all. "You are here today because you are willing to shoulder responsibilities that no ordinary man and woman will. You have been assigned to the EA-225 in order to research time travel, which may have a very real impact on all our lives in the future."

"Amen," said Gilbert, and Francis gave him a look.

"We are here - well, now that that's over." The Frenchman shook off some of his former officiousness and pushed aside a piece of paper. "We'll start with an overview of the mission. But before that I have an announcement to make: there's been a change in plan. A lot of possible spies have been detected and detained, and traced to other continental governments. No one knows how they found out about our mission, but they mean to stop us if they can. We can't afford to let that happen, for the good of Europe; and because of that the Prime Minister has advised that we set out in three days."

Silence greeted this statement - because the Prime Minister's "advice" was the equivalent of a command.

"Three days, you say?" asked a brunette from beside Gilbert.

"Yes." Francis looked very serious. "I know that was sudden, but the Prime Minister hopes we can all manage. And Gilbert?"

The man snapped to attention. "Yes?"

"Are you all right with this? You'll have to guide the ship after all."

"Of course. I've been preparing this whole time. I'm ready," Gilbert said firmly. "You can count on Lili and me." A nearby girl with short blonde hair smiled and seconded his statement.

Francis gave a nod of approval. "Then that's settled. Now we need to go over the mission again - so - ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Lovino Vargas, from Italy."

Everyone clapped politely as Lovino rose from his seat, and I thought he looked rather reluctant to speak in front of the others. But that impression vanished as soon as he reached the front of the room and turned on the large screen behind them. Instantly a map flashed there, but it was no ordinary map, of course - with a backdrop of stars and a path carefully traced between them. I couldn't make any sense of the descriptions and symbols on screen, but I did recognize the shape of the most prominent stars in the center.

"This is the constellation Sagittarius," said Lovino, pointing to that very same pattern, where the route ended. "Within it is the black hole V4641 Sagittarii, which my team and I have found to contain a wormhole. It's the closest one to Earth that's stable enough for our purposes. And with our EA-225 we'll be able to reach it in three months, at the most."

"I'll do my best with that," piped up Gilbert.

"And so will we, including myself," acknowledged Lovino. "But on another note, there's been a lot of space activity around here in the past few weeks. Other continents have their stations here too, and they probably will stay there for a while. We might pass by some of them, which means we'll have to be careful..."

"Carefulness is of the utmost importance," Francis agreed. "And Lovino, you'll be going with us, won't you? I know that in your case you have a choice."

"Of course I'm going," responded the Italian. "We're on the verge of a discovery that might change the future of our Earth - so if I could help in any way with this mission I would. There's no honor like being able to serve the world's people." World instead of Europe. "Isn't that why we're all here?"

I came very close to losing track of the entire talk - I found myself less interested in what was being said and more in the speaker himself. Despite the stiff way Lovino talked, it was clear that this cause and what it entailed was more than important to him. He was a different Lovino from the one I had met in the security station - his face was composed, his mouth in its characteristic thin line, but his eyes flashed with vitality and passion and his voice was strong and full.

If I said I was captivated I would not be exaggerating.

This time the applause in the room was more than just courtesy, and Lovino returned to our table amid approving glances. His face was no less serious but the fascinating expression in his hazel eyes had not changed.

"Staring is impolite," he informed me coolly and sat down with his gaze turned pointedly away. We both listened in silence for the rest of the meeting; he did so calmly, but I could feel my heart beating faster than it should have. It seemed he had noticed me after all.

Half an hour later it was over.

"Wait, I'm sorry. Could you repeat that?"

Francis consulted a small square device - a quadratum, which served many functions, not the least of which was receiving private communications from the European government. "He's requested us not to leave the city, or even this part of the city, because that poses risks for us and the mission..." He read further. "The Prime Minister's set up accommodations for us - we'll be staying in the space center so we can set off as soon as possible."

"And how's this going to happen?" asked Lovino. "There's barely enough room for scientists as it is."

"They've spared some rooms in a small tower overlooking the hangar - that should be enough for all nine of us, since I'll be with you all until takeoff. The strongest security has been placed there, so we have nothing to worry about."

"Hopefully," I heard Gilbert whisper under his breath to a taller blond man, who did not reply.

"We'll split up and go there separately, in twos or threes, and in civilian clothing if possible," continued Francis. "That way we won't arouse suspicion."

"All right," said Lovino. "I'll go first. The scientists will recognize me since I've worked there before - so I could bring someone else along." He glanced very quickly towards me and then away again. Gilbert, who had sharp eyes, noticed this.

"Bring Antonio!" he suggested with a grin. "He's new here - he might get lost. He'll need someone like you a lot, I'm sure!"

"Hey, that's not true!" I protested. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Lovino tense up. He looked rather indecisive, almost comically so. I felt the tiniest bit of hope that he might speak up and agree with the suggestion, but Francis jumped in at the last minute.

"Gilbert's right, it is rather unsafe. You haven't seen how complicated the streets are here. We just want to make sure everyone gets there in one piece."

It was impossible to argue with the director himself - not that I would - so I went over to Lovino, who seemed ready to protest the decision. "Should we go now?" I asked.

"Yes, that would probably be best." He turned on his heel and started walking, fast, and I had to take bigger strides to keep up. Secretly I was excited, but I'm sure he sensed it too.

We left the room and went into the elevator. I had assumed we'd leave by the front door of the lobby, but Lovino didn't choose that button, and instead pulled a small key card out of his pocket, which he inserted into a narrow slot by the control panel. The moment he did so, a section of the panel suddenly slid down, exposing several hidden buttons. From here he pressed a red one that read SE.

By this time my curiosity had gotten the better of me. "What does SE stand for?" I asked.

Lovino gave me an exasperated look, as though I should have known all this.

"It's a secret exit, Antonio."

"Well, that sounds like fun," I said and he snorted. Within a minute we reached a lower floor, which he told me was on the same level as the lobby. But there was no visible entrance except a dimly lighted hallway. Through narrow apertures in the wall I could see we were circling around behind the secretary's desk, to a back door that would allow us to leave unnoticed. Light streamed in as we stepped outside into a deserted clearing; the fake sky above us swirled with white clouds through which I could see a snippet of sun. Everything seemed oddly quiet, as though the whole city were holding its breath.

"Just so you know, this is only one of the many ways out," Lovino said as the door slid closed behind him. "But you can't get back in through this door. It's almost invisible from the outside, so don't bother trying."

"You make it sound like I'm planning to break in someday."

"Well, one can never be too sure." His mouth shifted in the closest to a smile I had yet seen, and I knew right away he was joking.

"Was that really the impression I gave you?"

"Why of course - now that I think about it, you do look a bit like a rival government operative."

"Then I take that as an insult," I declared. "They would never look as good as me."

Lovino coughed loudly. "Excuse you, no one asked you to rate your own looks."

"I'm not! I'm just making a distinction between me and them, for your benefit - but of course, if you want to rate them yourself, feel free!"

"No, thank you," Lovino said sharply, and walked on. I figured the joking had gone a little too far - his face had suddenly darkened and his eyes had become guarded. Still, he only ignored me for about five minutes. That was when I felt the need to ask another question.

"Are you angry with me?"

He didn't slow down or turn around. "No."

"You look angry, though."

"I'm not."

"Well, that's good then. I was getting worried for a minute."

Lovino made a displeased noise and did not answer. I walked faster, trying to catch up to him so I could see his face, but he only sped up in response. We had also entered a narrow alley in the middle of two large buildings, so it was hard to actually reach his side. When I opened my mouth to talk, however, a sudden small chime came from the Italian's pocket. It was his quadratum announcing a call. He answered it.

"Hello?" He stopped for a split second, and I stopped along with him. I couldn't hear the voice speaking on the other side, and I couldn't guess what it was saying, but at once Lovino's face darkened even further. When he spoke again his voice was biting. "Why are you calling me now?"

A minute of silence followed, during which he listened intently, eyes hard as flint.

"It's been settled for this long, and you're still bothering me about it," he hissed. "I know what you fucking want. But don't expect anything from me - I don't want to hear shit from you again. You can be fucking sure of that. Goodbye."

He hung up, jabbing his thumb into the quadratum to turn it off, and shoved it back in his pocket. We went on; but he was the picture of dangerous quiet, like a volcano ready to explode. I had no wish to pry, though the deadly silence proved too much for me, and finally I decided to say something.

"Lovino," I tried. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth. "Just fine. Just fucking fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"But you - "

"Good God, how many times do I have to tell you? It's none of your damn business!" Lovino all but shouted. "Do you make it a habit to stick your nose into everything? Well, you're not welcome this time! Deal with it."

Well, I really had blown it this time.

"I'm sorry," I said ashamedly, but Lovino was too angry to notice. Still fuming to himself, he led the way through a busy street, where our clothes blended in with those of the civilians, and we turned a corner to find the space center.

From afar it might have looked like some slender soaring sculpture made entirely of blown glass. The whole place was a fantastic shape I cannot name; but it looked all of steel, with a bluish hue which contrasted with the pale sky behind it. I thought it seemed out of place among the other stodgy solid buildings - like something from an alien landscape on a foreign planet. Even the path that led to it seemed paved with some strange material, smooth like polished stone; but it shone with an unearthly gleam when the sun struck it.

Here Lovino led me, silent as a soldier, and I followed along, probably looking as subdued and worried as I felt. Our footsteps echoed softly along the path. We circled around the building to the very back, where a tower jutted out from the sculpture.

"This is where we're staying," the Italian said flatly, but quietly enough. "And the spaceship is in the hangar over there."

The hangar was a low, sloping structure built of the same material as the space center, but located farther away - out in a large clearing devoid of grass. This, I learned, prevented things from getting stuck in the spaceship engine, so as to avoid explosions. Currently there were only a few spacecraft in there - some old satellites, not-yet-recycled rockets and the EA-225.

If I had the opportunity I would have gone over to look at it, but Lovino didn't like to be kept waiting. So I went inside with him.

Because it was still mid-morning, there was almost no one here at this hour. The other scientists had most likely gone to work. The hallways - and there were many of them - were empty, and for some reason it smelled like a library, even though I could see no books. Every wall we passed had its numbered doors, and I kept wondering whether one of them would open suddenly and its inhabitant poke his head out to stare at us. But that didn't happen. The floor was carpeted and we made almost no sound as we went up one floor, and then another.

"Here we are. Third floor." Lovino stopped to examine a sign on one of the doors. "Looks like they have our names here already."

"Really?" I asked, glad to be spoken to, and went to look for mine. Room 3C provided the answer, in a little electronic screen displayed on the door. I peered at it and found my name on the first line, in small computerized letters. "Well, that's nice of them - wait."

"What?" Despite himself, Lovino shuffled over. "What do you mean? Did they - oh."

"So it's two to a room, huh?"

The Italian looked at both our names on the screen, then shrugged, his face carefully nonchalant. "I guess."

"That's not too bad, really."

"Only to you, it isn't." He opened the door and we entered a decently sized room, with two of everything: large beds, large tables, large windows overlooking the courtyard with the hangar. On closer inspection we also had a set of shelves apiece, one on each side of the room. I went over to the one on the right and found it stocked with different volumes on nature and environmental science.

"Hey, they have books! And ones that I like, too. They must have been expecting us."

"More like the government notified them in advance," muttered Lovino, nose already buried in a heavy-looking tome. "They probably want us to read up on things before we leave. For all I know these are the only print editions of anything left."

"They must trust us a lot, then." I tried for a grin and then suddenly remembered something. "My luggage! It's still in my hotel room!"

"The Prime Minister knows where you've been by now - he's been keeping tabs on us the whole time. He'll have your things sent to you secretly, no doubt."

"Well, that's comforting..." I mused, not very sincerely. "Especially the keeping tabs on us part."

"It's just something he does. For our security and for the mission. It's all about that now."

"At least someone cares what happens to us here," I said, sitting down on the bed. "When we get into space, we'll lose all ties to the Earth except our own memories. Pretty lonely, don't you think?"

I saw Lovino shoot a glance in my direction, and then he laid down his book.

"Antonio."

I looked over at him, and found him staring at me with a strange expression.

"Yes?"

"Don't you have... anything you'll miss here?"

I thought for a minute. "Not particularly, except the people I met while I was working. I don't have any parents, or any family I know of. No relationships, and I'm not married." Lovino looked slightly uncomfortable. "How about you?"

He shrugged and didn't meet my eyes. "The same goes for me."

"At least we'll all have each other on board. Even two people are great - eight is a crowd, almost." I laughed. "Maybe I'll be lonely in my head, but not if everyone else is around."

"Maybe." Lovino sat down too, looking awkward, and cleared his throat. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was angry about something else and I ended up saying some mean things. But it had nothing to do with you."

"It's all right, don't worry about it. I do that sometimes too."

"You?" the Italian asked incredulously, his face comical to see.

"Why do you look so surprised?"

"No, I'm not." Lovino composed himself. "You just look like you'd rather joke around and laugh things off instead of getting angry."

"Maybe I do. But you've never seen me angry yet - it's not a pretty sight."

"I'll take your word for it."

From outside came the distant sound of merry chatter and I glanced out, opening the window at the same time. The others had just arrived, with Francis in the lead, making their way to the first floor of the tower. In no time they would be joining us; and Lovino and I were already here to welcome them.

"Looks like the party will be starting soon," said Lovino dryly. I grinned at him.

"We'll make it a three-day party. Just to celebrate our remaining time here on Earth."

"You make it sound like we're going to die," muttered the Italian. "Only you're smiling while you say it."

"Everything sounds better with a smile!"

Lovino raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Well, you'll have to prove it, then."

And so, we became friends.

Sort of.