She’d already returned my files to me, edited, and I hadn’t taken the time away from writing to read her comments yet. I hoped to spend the trip to Andromeda revising and integrating her feedback, but the plan for now was to keep writing as fast as I could and finish Discordant.
And I was close. The nearer I got to the end, the more I realized the story was still going on, and it was shaping up to be so much bigger than I’d considered when I started writing. Back then I’d expected to tell people that Discord was running some sort of catfishing scheme, but now it might be a multi-galactic tech conspiracy, and I honestly still didn’t understand the point of everything.
And in the middle of that, I’d fallen in love when I least expected it, and Cora thought I’d been walking through her sleeping mind for years. Meanwhile, something was in my dreams that felt like a woman, but like nothing I’d ever experienced before, and it mimicked something HC had dreamt over forty years ago.
And to add another layer of crazy, Bitsy Joon’s son had been dreaming of a girl with golden wings when he was four years old. And there was that whole Sibsil Creed mystery. I felt the words I’d read from the Known Cosmos Earth Press pressing down on me:
"There are two worlds."
"I’ll see you when I get there."
What did any of that have to do with Discord and the Trade Guild of Technology? It seemed like I had more questions than answers these days.
I quickened my pace, scanning the porters outside the station, and my face lit up when I found the eyes I wanted to see more than anything.
Dodging children, parents, luggage, and everything else in my way, I half-jogged to Cora, pulling her close. She melted against me, face in my hair, hands on my back, squeezing me to her.
I inhaled Cora and realized a truth: no where else mattered. For when I was with Cora, I was at home. It wasn’t a feeling I’d ever really known before.
Acceptance. Welcome. Belonging.
I didn’t have to try. I needant be anything other than that which I already was: me, myself, I. That was all Cora wanted from me, and I drank her in, body and soul.
When she pulled back, her lips found mine, and I let her have the hungry kiss she wanted, smiling against her mouth and content.
“God, I’m so glad to see you, Sam.”
“Me too. Let’s stay together from now on, eh? We did the distance thing, and I nearly finished my book, but that was enough separation for me.”
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“Agreed. Want lunch? I know a great taco stand near my rental.”
“Perfect.”
So Cora and I had tacos, caught up on all the things we couldn’t say or do over video, and lingered in each other’s arms until she had to go to the final rehearsal before her show the next day.
I dressed and went with her, pad in tow, and I wrote everything I could for my book. But when I got to the end, it felt unfinished, so I messaged HC.
Sam: Sending you the last few chapters before they go to Bitsy. I really think that YOU should write an epilogue.
HC: I’ll have a look. You’re really done? Damn, Sam, that was fast.
Sam: I’m positive it needs work, and I’m not sure about the end, but yeah, I think the story needs to end in Miami. After that, well, I dunno yet.
HC: I’ll let you know.
Sam: ??
Then I set my pad down and looked around me. Cora was rehearsing in Red Rocks Amphitheatre, late in the afternoon, and it was completely empty.
The venue was amazing; seemingly carved outta the ground. I strolled across the stone seating, enjoying the vast expanse of the high desert around us and the peaceful afternoon while Cora’s piano filled the air.
I found myself wandering towards the top of the stadium, as though in a dream, mesmerized by the rock formations around us and the arpeggios of the piano. As I stood in the middle looking down over the seating and out beyond into the space that seemed endless, I was reminded of the ocean in Miami.
Of all that vast emptiness that seemed like it would go on forever, and yet how minuscule it was against the backdrop of the entire Known Cosmos. Nine galaxies of life, countless people and worlds.
And beyond that? Why were there only 9 Galaxies? Why not fifty? Or eleven? I opened eyes I hadn’t realized were closed as Cora was joined by her band in a peppy show tune. The upbeat song jerked me out of my reverie, but I didn’t take my gaze from that vast desert stretched before me.
It was nothing like Miami or anywhere in the east. So different from Nashville with all its greenery and lush foliage.
Colorado was arid and cool. Spacious, though we were in the mountains. It felt like two different worlds: Tennessee and its smoking mountains. Colorado and its rocky ones. Yet the miles that separated them were few compared to the distance I’d travel to get to Shurwinn.
"There are two worlds."
What did that mean?
I opened up my pad to see if I could find more about Shurwinn and searched for Ryst Nova again. There was a “Wedding of the Millenia” video, so I watched it, stunned.
She and her husband were gorgeous dancers, and while I didn’t get to see the whole wedding, I saw them performing in a stadium not unlike the one in which I stood.
Pink sandstone carved into a hill was lined with seated people. An orchestra unlike anything I’d ever seen played behind them, and they danced at first what seemed like a comedy routine then became movement more like flowing water than two people. I was awestruck watching them, and the scene brought tears to my eyes.
It felt like a gift to see two people move in sync the way Ryst Nova and Nayth Carmidee did, and I wanted more. Wished I could’ve known them, wanted to see them smile and laugh.
I’d watched the recording several times before I realized that there was no longer music, and everyone but Cora was gone. She was coming up the steps towards me, so I headed to her, still overcome.
“Sam?”
Breathless, I told her, “You need to see this, Cor.”
She watched the video with me then rewound it, playing it again.
“Does it seem . . . familiar . . . somehow, Sam? Like, you’ve seen it before, but can’t quite remember?”
I shook my head, “It’s more like, I can’t look away, and I want more. Like I need to see their eyes and hear them laughing. Like I can almost, almost . . .”
“Like if you were to hear the sound that isn’t there, it would be laughter?” Cora whispered.
And we looked at each other and smiled, knowing without knowing, and being sure all the while. Neither of us had ever seen that video before, yet to both of us, the people in could’ve stepped out of a dream.
All real, I thought and saw the knowledge reflected in Cora’s eyes.