"I want to cry." The deflected space cadet mused over her lukewarm cup of tea. Her fiance sat across from her, caught up in the latest news on his holowatch. Old Saint Richard was at it again, declaring war on the inventors for inventing the skyogram. Old Saint Richard is not the first Old Saint Richard. He is the Three Hundred and Twenty-Second Old Saint Richard, each a clone of the last. Every Richard had something they hated. This one hates the skyogram. Earth Three's sky had long gone dark, a young world once again at the end of its lifespan. Only ten billion years this one. The one before that fifty billion, seven hundred and eighty million, three hundred and forty-eight thousand, five hundred, and sixty-eight days. The one before that was lost in time. No one knew then that their world could end so suddenly that there was no time to write it down before humans drowned, burned, killed each other, and ran to the farthest galaxies they could reach.
"Lionel."
What is his problem with the Skyogram though? Yes, this world is dying and Earth-kind will once again walk into the vast night in search of a home, nonetheless, why live each day in dread?
"Lionel."
Being able to look up and see a blue sky dotted with perfect white clouds took some of the stress off of the citizens. Ten billion years. Only ten billion years this one lasted. On Earth II the citizens were even able to predict when their world would end and make preparations accordingly. A ban on procreation was put into place to avoid harm to younger generations. Everyone received a job and a place to go to. They said goodbye to their world with a kind smile and a tear in their eye, knowing they did something right on this world for it to last so long. What went wrong with this world? Already going cold, children aren't allowed out anymore for fear of the street swallowing them whole. The procreation ban was so sudden it caused quite the uproar -
"Lionel!" A rough hand calloused from three fights too many clapped down on the holowatch the young human was reading. Gently pulling his wrist from her grasp and into his lap, he took a moment to soak in the woman before him. Dark skin, the color of soil after rain, her nose sprinkled with light brown freckles. Freckles you could only see if you were a lover pulling her close for a goodnight kiss. Copper curls exploding from her head in the most beautiful waterfall that pooled at her smooth, strong shoulders. The left strap of her nightgown had slipped from her shoulder in the most seductive manner. Then again, everything this woman did was seductive to Lionel.
"You're staring again Lionel." The inventor looked up to meet his lover's hazel green eyes. Usually so strong and certain, now holding a mist of apprehension.
He couldn't help but smirk, amused at the complexity of the woman he loved. Always so sure of herself, always so firm. Unless of course, the man who loved her dared bask in her beauty. Then she was suddenly a shy teenage girl in the back of the classroom attempting to shrink for fear of being noticed. "I do apologize, my dear, I will take note and be sure to never look at you again. However, I have already previously taken note of this and was trying my damndest to never ever look at you by reading the news on why our blessed idiot, Old Saint Richard hates my latest invention but somehow you have caught my attention again." His smirk grew as Khloe's face grew hot and covered her mouth as if she could hide her embarrassment at his taunting.
Clearing her throat, the spacewoman recovered, "I'm trying to be serious Lionel."
"So am I!" The creator of new things exclaimed, "It took me three years to make the Skyogram a reality. I am a visionary and now this Old Saint Dick is trying to erase that vision because apparently everyone has to be miserable all the time to ever achieve anything! And of course, he is employing that rat bastard Lionel the uninventor to undo my handy work! Who needs uninventors anyway? I would love to be an uninventor. Just sit on my ass and collect a paycheck waiting for the day my counterpart may or may not invent something worth uninventing. Or even a reinventor! Just wait to find an uninvented invention and reinvent it, then take all the credit! I ought to -"
"He's going to die soon anyways Lionel!" Both of their eyes grew wide at her outburst.
Lionel's tone hushed and serious, "You know I hate it when you do that."
"I-I know love, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to slip," She leaned forward against the breakfast table, "I'm sorry."
"Just because you know the past does not mean you get to spoil my future for me."
Her shoulders slumped as she slid back into her chair. This was one thing he would never understand. Her whole job, her whole existence was to learn and understand the past. Every minute detail mattered. She already knew what underwear he picked morning and the morning before and the morning after this one, then the next after the next as well. It was hard keeping all of these facts contained. It was like she was living life as a walking bottle of shaken fizzy drink with no one willing to open her for fear they might get messy. It was her own fault though. The number one rule for any Cadet sent back was "Never fall in love." It seemed like such a nonsensical rule at the time. Now having lived through billions of years of history, she was brimming with things that could never be spoken. Not even to Lionel. He knew this.
They sat in silence for some time, each brooding over the sudden seriousness that washed over the table. She traced the rim of her now cold mug, hoping he would speak first. Thankfully he did.
"At least I have some extra time to think of something particularly smart to say at his wake," His playful grin returned to brighten the room, "What was it you were trying to tell me earlier?"
One of his traits Khloe admired the most. Accept the things you cannot change and choose to be happy in spite of them. Something her very existence screamed against. Go back to the past and change everything you can possibly get your hands on to hopefully create your ideal of a better future. It is why she left. Ran is more the word for it. She wasn't the only one. When the new Old Saint Richard stepped into power, he began changing the oddest things. Things that seemed inconsequential at first glance. However, things began to change for the worse. The citizens became poorer and sicker while his pockets grew heavier and richer. Reinventing things that should have been left uninvented. Inventing things that could never be uninvented. Uninventing things that should have been left invented. It was a tangled, sticky mess. The generation before tried to secretly untangle the mess but it was too late. The damage was done. So one by one they ran away into time. Khloe too, one of the newest to join their deflective ranks.
"I want to cry."
"But you can't"
"I know but I want to."
"But you physically cannot cry."
"You know, for an inventor, you are impossibly closed-minded."
"You pretty much have the whole of time and space bouncing about in your head....and you want to cry."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I want to cry over you."
Finally, something to capture the inventor's attention. Not that the stunning woman before him was ever not captivating but in a world where everything was seemingly already invented until it wasn't, this was new.
Leaning back into his armchair Lionel settled in as if getting ready to hear a tale. He stayed silent, waiting for his love to gather her words.
"When Lionel the uninventor dies, while it may not be you, someone will cry. They will cry over what was, what is, and what could have been. They will cry because they loved him and what he brought to the world. Then that person will gather in a room of other persons and they will cry together. They will smile and cry remembering the jokes he would tell, the silliest thing he ever uninvented, the dumb moments he had. It may be a whole house full of people or just two or three. Maybe even just that one person....but they will cry." She fell silent, having lost her words again.
Lionel mused over her small speech. Yet again, in Lionel fashion, he smirked. "Yeah, they'll cry but I'll bet a tenner it'll be for show. There's no way anyone could stand that guy." His smugness was extinguished as a glare met his gaze. Sobering up, he says quietly, "You're serious?"
She rolled her shoulders in that way when something had been weighing on them for a long while. As if she could shift the weight on them around to make it comfortable enough to continue carrying. Eventually, though, it gets too heavy and she has to speak. She continued rolling her shoulders and sighing until the sighing turned into shallow breaths. He watched her for a moment, trying to rearrange that heavyweight only to realize she couldn't. Then the panic set in. Her shallow breaths coming faster until she could only inhale. Inhaling again and again trying to catch up with her racing heart and mind.
Lionel's folded hands tightened in his lap as he fought the urge to race around the table and scoop the hyperventilating woman into his arms. She hated being touched when she was like this. As though needing comfort conveyed some sort of weakness. She used to scream at him to leave whenever it happened. Not wanting him to see this thing she perceived as weakness. Whenever she did panic like this, some sick part of him was grateful that it wasn't him who was experiencing it. Grateful to exist in her past rather than his future. A future where understanding the entire everchanging history of the universe was more important than human emotions or any connection whatsoever. A future where changing the past was the only thing of value so the people existing in that future inherently held no value.
She used to tell him stories of her life in the future on Earth Ten. With every story, he only pitied her more. Stories of sanitized cubicles, a world void of color. A world where children no longer played but rather learned. The moment they were born, they did not enjoy a mother's embrace but were hooked up to nutrition IVs and implanted with chips at the base of their skull to begin their learning immediately. Living alone in a steel room with only a mechanical voice as their companion to tell them when to wake, eat, and sleep. When the children reach ten years of age, they encounter their first human other than themselves. She told him about the wonder she felt at that moment. Having only looked at her reflection in the walls of her room for so long the thought of other children actually existing seemed like fiction. Her eyes glowed as she spoke about it,
"The first person I ever met had black hair, and dark brown eyes slanted just like yours. I thought she was the most beautiful thing to ever exist. A human being," Khloe laughed at the memory, eyes twinkling, "She was so intrigued by my skin. She didn't know skin could be so dark. I told her I didn't believe that hair could really be that straight until I saw her. We spoke for hours. It was the most magical experience of my life. In all my years that moment is one I'll never forget."
Lionel picked his head up from Khloe's chest, to face her, "You didn't touch?"
Rubbing the strong arms that caged either side of her, something dawned on her, "No, I guess we didn't. It never occurred to me to touch her. We were in our own separate glass cubicles anyhow. There was no way we could have touched even if we wanted to."
With a thoughtful smile, her new lover trailed his finger down her collar bone. He cherished the small gasp she always tried to hide and the goosebumps that trailed after his finger and sent a small shiver down her spine. It would always fascinate Lionel, how sensitive she was to his touch. Now, however, it was tinted with a twinge of melancholy. His heart commiserating for the lonely young girl in the cold steel room, her only companion to be her reflection and images of the past.
"What's wrong?" Her long fingers wrapped around his biceps, giving them a concerned squeeze.
Trying to call his smile back from its hiding place, Lionel shook his head, "Nothing. Just...That must be why you like this so much."
"Like what so much?"
Mischief flashed in his eyes as he bent his head down to softly plant a kiss on her now aroused skin. Her gasp making him smile against her as his lips whispered across her soft chest. With tender pecks, his lips searched their way up her neck until they found their treasure. He savored the feeling of her breaths becoming faster and shallow. Her nails now trickling down his arms and back up again. Leaving her own trail of goosebumps on his skin. Capturing her earlobe between his teeth, he gave it a gentle tug before whispering, "Being touched."
Her glittering giggle seemed to drape the room in a golden hue. "I suppose I do," closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the tickle of his sweet nothings on her ear. "I guess I just never thought about it that way." Her hands burying themselves in his soft black hair as he began to leave suckling kisses on her neck. Whispering to her between each kiss,
"So in all the thousands of years, you've been alive, in all the thousands of years you've traveled...No one has ever touched you?"
Giving his hair a playful tug her eyes met his. "Not like this." They searched each other's eyes for a moment as if they searched long enough the secret to time might be revealed. How to hold it still and make this moment last forever, but of course it can't.
Closing his eyes Lionel placed a feathery kiss on her supple lips and whispered, "I am so sorry that happened to you."
Her body stiffened under his, the moment that was supposed to last forever, shattered. Time sped up again as Khloe pushed the man off of her and got up from the bed in one fluid motion. She stood there, her back to him, unsure of what to do next. He always did that to her, made her unsure. It was part of what made her love him until it didn't. He stayed where she had flipped him on the bed. With a grimace, dragging his hands over his face he pleaded, "Shit Klo, I'm sorry," holding his hand out to her, "just come back to bed. I'll make it up to you."
Fighting the urge to run back into the cover of his arms, she crossed her's and spoke quietly. "Just because my life was different from yours does not mean it was wrong."
Accepting that he had ruined the moment, he scooted to sit on the edge of the bed, speaking sympathetically to her back. "Khloe... a child is supposed to have parents. When a baby is born into this world they are supposed to be held and loved. Not microchipped and sanitized."
He always tried to stay quiet whenever she told him of her past but he hardly ever could. He had to speak against the injustices his lover had to live with. Someone had to speak up for her if she wouldn't do it herself.
Her voice shook, "Just because my life was different from yours does not mean it was wrong."
Unable to quell his anger at her past, he sprung up from the bed and walked across the floor to face her.
"Yes Khloe, it was wrong. A child is supposed to be cared for. A child is supposed to have toys and play games. They are supposed to fall and cry. Then mommy or daddy comes and kisses it better. They are not supposed to have their tears ducts cauterized and replaced with moisture drops. A child is supposed to eat real food for christ sakes! Not pumped with calories through an I.V. then run on a treadmill on the floor so that their muscles don't atrophy! Children should be surrounded by people who love and care for them. They should be able to see and spend time with other children. They should know what a loving touch feels like. Anything short of that is wrong. What you went through goes way past that. It was not just wrong, it was abusive Khloe. You may not be ready to acknowledge it yet, but you know that is a huge part of why you ran."
"Get out." Her body trembled, suddenly aware of her nakedness.
"Klo..."
"Get out!" The lonely space girl shrieked at her kind earth boy.
Hands dropping to his sides, he left the room. The sounds of knees hitting the floor and dry sobs followed the click of the shutting door.
She never spoke about her past after that day.
Now she sits across from him, wanting to cry. It never occurred to him that she didn't actually shed tears that day. Just those dry sobs.
Her hyperventilating slowed, leaving an exhausted look in her eyes. He waited patiently for a moment, for calm to return. When she moved to leave the table and escape to their room he spoke up,
"Why would you want to cry over me?" He said it with his trademark smirk but his brow furrowed with concern. Slowly, Khloe sat back in her chair, folding her hands between her legs in a failed attempt to keep them from shaking.
"Well because I love you, ya knob."
"Mmm, plenty of people love, plenty of them don't cry about it unless they aim to write a song."
"You're really going to make me keep talking about it aren't you?"
"You wouldn't love me if I didn't. If you can start talking about it then you can keep talking about it."
She was quiet for so long he began to think she wouldn't speak. When she finally did, he didn't bother hiding his surprise. Her voice was firm,
"I have been alive for a very long time Lionel. I will be alive for a very long time until I catch up with my time stream. There will likely be a day I forget what you look like. I will forget what your voice sounds like, what it feels like when you hold me. I will forget the way you light up the room, the way you can make me sad, happy, and flabbergasted all in the same conversation. I will forget everything about you. You will just join the jumble of time and space crammed in my head. I do know what I won't ever forget. I won't forget the first time I cried. I want to cry over you."
"Why Miss Space Cadet Khloe, are you asking me if you can remember me forever and ever and ever?" His loving smile and proud eyes met hers.
"Earth 3 Worldclass Inventor Lionel, would you do me the honor of inventing a way for me to cry so that I can remember you forever and ever and ever?"
Their smiles warmed the room, as Lionel responded, "I would be honored."
They sat in comfortable silence, not needing to find a way to stop time, just enjoying the moment.
As Khloe leaned forward to offer an 'I love you' Lionel slammed his hands on the table.
"Okay but first we need to stop this Old Saint Dick from uninventing my skyogram before he rushes asshole Lionel uninvent it before he kicks the bucket!"
With an exasperated sigh, the space cadet flopped back into her chair,
"Sad, happy, and flabbergasted."
///////
Love, Me.
and sex toys. I love those too.