After Image
21 Jan 2024Ryuko Ntsikana
Part Thirty-Six
After Image
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Avery stood politely to one side as Carlos looked out of what was his daughter’s, now his, office window, at the dense collection of stars.
“She won’t stop searching,” Carlos said, referencing his wife and Xochitl’s mother who worked in the stellar cartography section. “She will never find her, because she no longer exists.”
Avery tilted her head. “In a sense, you are both right … and wrong. Whatever evolves will always be her, and in a generational sense, you. The basic building blocks of life, and all of what she was, and all of her knowledge and memories, will be a part of whatever is created.”
Carlos was a practical man, but it did not make the pain of losing her any less, even though she was not technically lost, only removed by her own design, sacrificing herself so that the poor girl in the medical bay could have a chance at a future.
“Then there remains no essence within? This has been confirmed?”
Avery nodded. “Yes, but its reintegration was not without a parting gift. Recombining the child that remained with the psychological self that had established itself. Unfortunately, she will always maintain some disability.”
“Incorrect,” Carlos stated, his eyes looking at each individual star, a part of him wishing one of them to be moving towards him.
“Yes, you are correct. Inside the clan, she will always be valued and cared for. Inside this structure is all she will ever need, and will have no want. Here she will find grounding, and in time, perhaps, rehabilitation.”
“What of Yatziri … and who is this other that was with Zooey?”
“Yatziri departed the ship yesterday, headed to Colonia to search for her, though I think it is in vain. The person with Zooey is known as Jason, with no last name on record. He has stayed with Zooey since her arrival here, as has Inspector Gladsen.”
Carlos smirked. He always liked the inspector, and his daughter’s friend, though she always struck him as being weirder than most. Turning slowly from the window, Carlos looked at Avery. “Do you think she will ever return?”
Avery shrugged. “Whatever tomorrow will be, is what it is meant to be.”
She passed without notice among the throngs of people, crowding the concourse of Jaques Station. The pulsating throngs were easy to identify by their attire. The deep space explorers, miners, refugees, and those seeking bragging rites by making the pilgrimage from the bubble to Colonia. Each was easy to define by what they wore.
Her eyes turned upwards, looking at the habitation ring rotating above. The colored hair was easy to spot.