the sky appear to bend slowly beneath us, and blue become black. All was quiet, and from this distance the Earth gave the illusion of being still—the clouds appearing to have been frozen in gigantic puffs, and the sea undisturbed and illuminated by patches of sunlight, three hundred miles from the coast of what had once been California. I looked up through the roof where bright lights had appeared. Stars and planets, a whole galaxy and more beyond.
A curious feeling swept through me, which took me by surprise since, at that time, few feelings at all had ever swept through me, let alone curious ones. It was nothing more or less than awareness. I could sense everything, from the touch of the joystick beneath the glove of my suit to the tug of the balloon, to the gravitational pull exerted by two nearby stars. Everything was moving at its own speed, I realised, within its own boundaries and to its own rhythm. And yet nothing was separate, all was connected.
I had always known this, of course. It was just that I had never been aware of knowing it. The two are different. I wondered what it would be like to open the hatch, drift up, or fall.
The most interesting aspect of this state—hovering seventy kilometres above the Earth, aware of everything and pondering suicide—was that I was, for a brief moment, not aware of myself. My thoughts, memories and identity were no longer present; I had escaped the equation, as I had now, running on the beach.
Haralia had caught up with me, lying flat against Corona’s neck and frowning ahead. I looked down from the sky and set my sights upon the rapidly approaching rocks. With one hundred and sixty seven metres to go, I raced ahead. My cadence peaked at 302, my speed at nineteen metres per second, and with six metres left I slammed my right foot upon a small rock, bounding over the boulders in a single leap and landing with both feet in the sand.
The impact shook through me and I stumbled, momentum still carrying me, falling into a heap and sliding through the sand upon my front.
I rolled over, panting, and stared up at the sky. It was the same blue as before, but every part of me was here, now.
‘Ima, are you all right? Good grief!’ Haralia jumped down and rushed to my side. ‘Are you hurt?’
I sat up, my lungs still working hard to recover me from my exertion. I smiled and took Haralia’s hand, testing my legs’ ability to take my weight.
‘A minor fracture to my left fibula,’ I said, on one leg. ‘It is already mending.’
Haralia stood, staring through puffs of her own exertion. She shook her head, a suggestion of sadness in her expression.
‘How can we be so different?’ she said.
‘Every erta is different in some way. That is our design.’
‘I mean it. We are sisters, Ima.’
‘Mother told me she put too much of what she was not in me. Perhaps she did the opposite with you.’
‘It is not just what you put into something, but what you leave out.’
‘That is a very intelligent point, sister. Perhaps we are not so different after all.’
‘Was that a joke?’
‘I don’t know. Possibly.’
She made a noise, something between a laugh and a sigh, and looked out to sea.
‘It is sometimes as though you live in a different world.’
I tried my left leg once again and, though not yet fully healed, the bone was strong enough for me to hobble around the boulder. Haralia followed, leading Corona by her reins, and we made our way back to where you lay one thousand metres away upon the rocks.
‘Perhaps that is true of everyone,’ I said. ‘We have wondrous potential, but it is unlikely we will ever know for sure how it is to be another being.’
‘Maybe with transcendence that will change.’
I noticed a flash of exuberance upon my sister’s face as she said this. I stopped and turned.
‘Haralia?’
‘Yes?’
‘You have a secret.’
Another flash, and a smile that hardly dared show itself.
‘I do. Ima, Jakob and I have volunteered.’
So, they were going to foster an ertling. That was the cause of her joy. I was about to congratulate her when her eyes darted left over my shoulder. Her face darkened.
‘Ima, look.’
I turned. There was a figure at the rocks, cloaked and hooded, with its feet in the surf. He was lifting you down. I bolted for him.