on top of it and then it’s heading for my mouth.
Oh, fuck no.
The world around me blinks and flickers… and the next thing I know I’m making a speech in front of a whole group of people. The words are just spilling out of my mouth and I can’t make them stop.
Calm down, Crux. It’s fine. You’re… a guest in this body? I think. Just let it do its thing. Take it all in. Soak up the scenery. Get your bearings.
I breathe deep, trying to get it together. But it’s very disconcerting. Because I’m not controlling this body so there’s no sensation of breathing. I look around, trying to distract myself, look up and get dizzy at the sight of a blue ceiling above me that seems to go on forever.
Not a ceiling, you idiot. A sky.
It’s a sky. You’re on a freaking planet.
Earth. I’m on Earth. That spin node really did take me to Earth. Only I’m not me… I’m some dude named Christopher.
Small hands pat my face and when I slide my eyes to the right I see little Delphi. I’m holding her in my arms, her long blonde hair a mess of wild waves, her cheeks bright pink, her mouth a wide smile.
“Happy birthday, Daddy.” She pats my cheeks again. Everyone around us laughs.
“It’s not my birthday, Dellie. It’s yours, baby.”
I can’t tell if that’s me saying the words, or him. Or… both of us.
“I’m four,” she squeals.
“Me too!” another little voice says.
My head swings to my right and I see Corla holding Tycho.
Wow. This is weird. I recognize Corla from the last time I was here, but she looks so different. Was I here? Or was that a dream? Is this a dream? Or is it real? Did I pass out in the Harem Station museum? Is my body back there, lying on the floor?
Corla—or probably Carla, since that’s what Friend called my wife back at the hot dog fire—is wearing a long, white, sleeveless dress. Her hair isn’t silver, but blonde. Like baby Delphi’s. Dellie. Whatever. And it’s tied back in a neat bun that reminds me of how the serious girls wear their hair back on Harem.
She looks like she could be a princess. Like she has the potential. But she’s clearly not. Her eyes aren’t silver, they’re just a light blue-gray. And there’s no light coming off of her, even though it’s clear she’s very happy in this moment and emotions like that typically make a Cygnian princess glow at least a little.
I look out at the people. Then beyond them. It’s a long, expansive garden that I’m sure Luck would love.
Hey. Is Luck here somewhere? I start scanning the crowd. And Jimmy?
But then the world flashes and flickers again. And this time I come back sitting at a desk, talking on a comm device.
“No. No, no, no! Jared! For fuck’s sake. We talked about this! I’m looking at all the registered voters in the entire state right now. Call a meeting with…”
That’s not me talking. It’s Christopher. So I don’t bother listening. The office is… quite nice. A lot nicer than mine on Harem, that’s for sure. Very big desk with almost nothing on it. A screen sits on top of the desk and there’s a database spreadsheet visible with what appears to be names of people.
But I don’t stay long. The world flickers, and flashes, and flickers again. For what seems like a much longer time than before. And when I come out of it I’m looking down at Carla. She’s in our bed back in that room where this dream or whatever it is first started when I was waking up from the time freeze.
It’s dark. Late, I think. She mumbles something, then turns her back to me and goes back to sleep.
I slip in next to her. “Hey,” Christopher says, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Hmmm,” she hums. “I’m tired, Chris. Just go to sleep.”
Ooooh. Old Chris just got the brush-off.
I feel his frustration for a moment. And that’s weird. So far I’ve been a passenger. But this feels more like a merge of some kind.
But he just sighs and turns his back to Carla, taking the hint.
Guess his life isn’t as perfect as it looks.
I wait there for a while. Christopher goes still and settles. And pretty soon it feels like he’s gone and I’m still here. Interesting. I don’t feel tired. I sure as fuck don’t sleep. And the world doesn’t flicker or flash and take me