DSF@87afd4ddd762574690dfb4e3c928a2e5
I submitted an application to DSF, expressing my intention to venture towards the Kuiper Belt in alignment with Neptune's tangential path. Mars pointed out that no exploration spacecraft had entered that region due to the avoidance of Neptune's gravitational disturbances. In the event of an emergency, rescue efforts would require at least three months. However, I reassured Mars, saying, "It's alright, it doesn't matter..."
Given the scarcity of exploration craft in that area, DSF swiftly approved my application, recognizing that if any valuable asteroids were identified, 3137 would undertake the initial sovereignty identification on behalf of DSF. Thus, our mission proceeded.
I began practicing writing Ami's name in both Japanese, "あみ," and Chinese, "亚美." Ami had passed away, and only memories of her would remain. I adjusted my watch to the moment of Ami's passing and started counting from zero. From that point forward, my watch merely measured relative time, for the passage of time held no significance. Time became inconsequential...
Mars and I executed our exploration mission with robotic precision. We discovered two M-type celestial bodies. Once Mars anchored 3137 onto the asteroid's surface, I stood upon it with a small drawing board bearing the inscription "Ami & Alcon." Mars calculated that this asteroid's orbital period spanned more than 300 years. Where would I be in 300 years? If souls existed, I should have already reunited with Ami in that realm. But would she recognize me there?
Standing upon the asteroid, gazing into the boundless expanse of the cold and dark cosmos, I had arrived at the furthest reaches attainable by human civilization. Yet, even at the edge of the world, Ami was nowhere to be found. I simply sat on the asteroid, drifting along its orbit with Mars, consumed by a sense of aimlessness. Mars no longer uttered a word beyond the necessary commands for exploration. I wondered if he still remembered Anguirus or if he had documented the existence of both Anguirus and Ami. I had no knowledge of how long I had traversed through the vastness of time and space, for time no longer held meaning, did it?
As the exploration mission drew to a close, I found myself at a loss as to where to go next. Following protocol, I was supposed to return to the Saturn supply base. I altered my course and relied on the gravitational pull of the sun to guide me towards Jupiter. Speed no longer held significance. When I crossed Neptune's orbit, I glanced back at the majestic blue planet and whispered, "Ami, wait for me. I'll be back..."
Upon reaching Jupiter, I purposely avoided Galileo#1, which held countless memories of Ami, and instead opted for Galileo#3 as my place of respite. Everything felt so unfamiliar, yet thoughts of Ami would still occasionally haunt me. I attempted to seek solace in the bar, but the bustling crowd and the loud music only served to highlight my sense of displacement. I didn't dare visit the observation deck, for it would trigger memories of Ami. Even the roadside cafes and snack shops filled me with sadness. It made me ponder the pain my mother endured while suffering from severe PTSD and the days following my father's passing. Were her experiences akin to mine? During those times, many people consoled my mother, assuring her, "It will get better..." But how could it truly get better?
Mr. and Mrs. Bryan expressed deep concern for my well-being. They arranged to meet me at Schiaparelli#2, a space habitat in Mars orbit. When we reunited, Mrs. Bryan couldn't hold back her tears, and Mr. Bryan embraced us tightly. I understood their worries and tried to present a sense of normalcy, but my efforts only seemed to heighten their concerns. Mr. Bryan suggested that perhaps it would be beneficial for us to take a break on Earth for a while. After thoughtful consideration, I declined the offer. My heart belonged to Ami, who resided on Neptune. It felt as though my safe haven was there.
Mr. Bryan arranged for us to rent an apartment in the space habitat, where we would spend a two-month vacation together. During this time, I also received a message from Ami's mother. Despite the pain of losing Ami, she wore a brave smile and assured me that she was coping. She expressed her hope that I would take care of myself. I assured her in return, urging her to prioritize her own well-being. I promised to convey her greetings to Neptune, where Ami found eternal rest.
As the vacation drew to a close, I bid a heartfelt farewell to Mr. and Mrs. Bryan, knowing that my journey to Neptune and the Kuiper Belt lay ahead once more...
Ami, I have returned.
YOU ARE READING
Star Rider
Science FictionAmi: "We may be in different worlds, but we share the same moon and stars." This is a sci-fi love story, dedicated to those people who had to depart... Can you still see the stars in the city's sky? Have you ever imagined that your imagination could...
