2089
"The night before my dad left, we had a barbecue."
Chris said it without preamble, and Gina didn't know what to say - Chris wasn't even looking at her. He was staring up at the sky, at the stars, as if he couldn't wait for the few hours until liftoff to pass. They had returned to his favorite spot at the beach, the place where he had been watching the Perseids with his father.
"Did you want one, too?" she finally asked. "If you'd said something..."
Chris shook his head. "No. Mom wasn't in the mood back then, and now she's outright pissed. Holed up in her lab, dissecting plankton or something."
"Maybe Helen would've..."
Gina let the words trail away at Chris' stony silence. She had never understood his aversion against his younger sister. It was as if Chris thought she was a changeling, a bad bargain for his lost father.
"They had invited the whole crew," he continued after a long pause, as if Gina hadn't said anything at all, "Major Burke, Jones - he was the mission specialist, like I am for the Daedalus - he was nice. Explained the Hasslein Drive to me as if I'd actually understand what he was talking about." He shook his head, and Gina could see his teeth gleam in the moonlight as he grinned at the memory.
"They even invited Professor Hasslein, but he declined. He had to work. I think everyone was secretly glad that he didn't come."
"They didn't like him?" Maybe they had better instincts than you.
Chris shrugged. "I think they didn't understand him. He's not the kind of guy you can chat up about the latest game, you know?"
"I see." I get it, he's no mere mortal. Gina felt the old irritation creep into her body, tensing up her shoulders.
Chris seemed to be oblivious to her mood, still lost in that old memory. "Major Burke was funny, but Mom was... I dunno. Maybe she was pissed at Dad like she's pissed at me now. She sent me to bed pretty early on."
"Or maybe she had a hunch," Gina murmured. "Don't go, Chris. I have a bad feeling about this."
Chris finally turned to her. "Don't worry - this time, all will go well."
"Do you think Jones sabotaged the drive, back then?"
Chris shook his head. "No. Jones loved that machine, it was his baby - he'd never have sabotaged it." He paused, then added, "Professor Hasslein told me that Burke did it."
Gina blinked. "But why? That was suicidal..."
Chris shrugged. "I guess he didn't know that. Must've been one hell of a surprise."
"Well," Gina said after a moment, "if you really manage to find them, you can ask them yourself about what happened on the ship."
"When we find them, I'll do exactly that." Chris' voice had taken on a hard edge.
They watched the ocean for a while, dark waves with starlight on their crowns lapping lazily at the silvery beach.
"What if you don't find them?" Gina finally whispered. "Do you think you'll even be able to let it go, or will you spend your whole life searching for your father among the stars?"
Chris was silent for a long moment; at last, she could feel him taking a deep breath. "I dunno. I spent my whole life preparing for this day, I can't even imagine what I'll do with it if I do find him."
"You need a purpose besides finding your father, Chris." Gina dug her hand into the cool sand, scooped up a handful and let it drizzle back to the ground, millions of tiny stars, twinkling in the moonlight as they floated down. "I'm sure you weren't born just to search for him."
"But maybe I was." Chris' voice was almost inaudible over the sound of the waves. "How do you know I wasn't?"
"I just know it." She could feel her heart clench in her chest. "You're not just your father's son, Chris. You are... you, and you have so much to give, so much talent, so much... loyalty. This world needs people like you - people with determination, and faith, and ingenuity. We need you, Chris, more than ever! Don't go with the Daedalus..."
Chris put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him, and she laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
When he spoke again, his voice was gentle, but his words carried a finality that brought tears to her eyes.
"I'm the mission specialist - nobody knows that machine better than me, except Hasslein... and Helen, maybe, but she's too young. They need me there, and I want to go. Can't you understand that?"
His voice hitched. "I want to be there when they find them. I want to see his face when he realizes that we didn't abandon them, that he's going home, I want... I want to look in his eyes and tell him it's me, Dad, it's me, and I've come to get you home. And I..." she could hear him swallow hard, "... I've waited so long for that day."
Her eyes were blurring, so she couldn't really see his face when he turned to her, but his lips were warm and salty from the ocean spray, from the ocean, not from tears, and she pulled him closer, pulled his warmth and his weight over herself like a blanket. Tried to memorize everything about him with her whole body, so that she wouldn't forget how he felt and smelled and tasted after he left her for his dream.
She could feel the dark cold silence of space arching over them, a yawning emptiness reaching from horizon to horizon.
