In the hue of the faintest starlight, I glanced down at my floating feet in awe. Sagua’s hair floated outward due to its considerable length, brushing up against her invisible spacesuit but having an undeniable wave to it. Meanwhile, I could feel my fur fluffed out without gravity, though it bristled against attire that was near imperceptible. Awe rippled through my veins as I dared myself to move; I never imagined that I’d go to space like the astronauts did! My arms flailed in midair, when I began to float away from the outer hull.
“It’s fine, Lucren. You’re safe. I thought you’d have fun with weightlessness.” The alien’s voice was transmitted into my helmet automatically, with microphones materialized. Sagua pulled me back with her raisers, seeing my distress, and created a light magnetic attraction between my feet and the station’s hull. I could still kick off from the gigantic cube, but I kept myself fastened to it like I was holding on for dear life. “I want to show you how I really see Aratas, and how I see you. I hoped watching the whole world would be the start of the big picture, but this…this around you is a tiny fraction of the big picture. What do you think of it?”
I turned in 360 degrees, soaking in the stars that sparkled like infinite gemstones embedded in black embroidery; some were so faint that they might as well have been invisible. “I don’t know what to say. To look every direction, up, down, left, right, and all is sky! Everything is stars that seem like they were placed there by hand, yet it’s all a stroke of luck—as much as my own survival is. You tell me you make universes? You craft fireball hearths for civilizations and worlds teeming with life? You cup your hands, breathe them into existence, and place them into the sky as easily as I would set a picture on a shelf?”
“At a much smaller scale. Our pocket universes only have one star, because it’s pretty intensive,” Sagua chuckled. “It still humbles us, what exists just through chaos and happenstance. Each star is a hearth…I like that. Your star is the sky’s artwork for another civilization, somewhere out there. Doesn’t that make it all feel connected, when you look up? Isn’t that worth admiring?”
I gazed upward for several seconds, finding peace in trying to remember the most famous constellations and the familiarity of the void. “I…never really did. Thank you for letting me see this. It’s gorgeous.”
“So are you, Lucren. Take the compliment, please. I bet it’s funny to think that so many trillions of miles away from your home, the other stars are far enough away that the patterns haven’t changed. You’re in your universe’s…teensy neighborhood. You and I are just blades of grass.”
“No! You’re, for all intents and purposes, a goddess. You can go anywhere.”
“So can you. It’s not through any intrinsic property of my people. It’s mere technology. Time.”
“To me, your scales of time sound like eternity!” I exclaimed, pinning my ears back. Hold on a minute. She said something that’s…very important to know for our escape. How are we going to get home if…we can’t fucking find it?! Where the hell are we? “It’s so cosmic and far-reaching. But…what do you mean about light years away from your home? You brought our brains, to…where?! I don’t want to be that far from Teska! Why did you do that?”
“Aratas are smart and advanced enough to detect us, if we built an installation like this in your star system. We’re around the nearest star to yours, the one you call Klaide Tol.” Sagua wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pointed with a finger, drawing my attention to a cluster of white dots. It wasn’t clear what she was denoting, until she forwarded a marker highlighting a central star. “There. That’s Teska’s star, viewed from the outside.”
I saved the HUD marker for my personal notes. It was vital to tell Ralto what direction to fly to get us home. The last thing I wanted was to wander aimlessly into space! The pieces were coming together, though defying Sagua’s people felt suicidal. I was reeling that the Watchers could affect our world from so far away; the thought had never crossed my mind, that we weren’t lurking somewhere in the depths of our solar system. It was bone-chilling to think how far away I was from anything Aratas had known—kept so far from home that I couldn’t walk that many miles in a lifetime!
I don’t belong here, away from everything I’ve ever known, and…if I’m that small, I’m better off trying to make an impact on our little world. We never agreed to be blinked to a different star system, so alien and estranged from our own. I get that the Watchers are trying to save us and they think we’re doing the right thing, but how can I ever adapt to this? How can I ever have normalcy here? Just sit around playing instruments and wasting Sagua’s time, pretending it’s all casual?
“You’re a kind person,” I breathed, saddened by the surreal sights. I wanted a genuine bond with the Watcher, in spite of myself, but I was kidding to think I could do anything that came close to her capabilities. We lived in two different worlds; I was a scared peon, who’d needed coaxing to see both Arata subspecies as people, and who’d believed lies without questioning. I had pathetic priorities and ambitions, but that figured, coming from an ugly people who were going to be a failed experiment, one way or another. “We’re not smart or advanced. I’m sorry you got stuck with us.”
I’m unworthy! Running away from the gifts because it’s too much, because I can’t see the big picture. I think I know better, that I can really make a difference? I can tell people the truths she told me, stop our stupid war. It doesn’t change the wasted years and all of the death. I’m a murdering nobody soldier! I can’t even get food choices right; there’s nothing enjoyable about me!
“Lucren, I hate when you talk that way,” Sagua sighed. “I don’t understand. I thought you liked seeing our…‘cool’ technology and ‘Watcher stuff?’ You found the prospect of a tour exciting, so I just thought it’d be breathtaking and…sweet. I wanted us to spend time together somewhere beautiful, where all of our problems didn’t matter. Us talking.”
I blinked several times, staring at the Watcher with disbelief. “Why do you bother? Why do you want any connection with me, with us, beyond just…your parents having a good species? Why Aratas? Why me?!”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Sagua gripped my hand and stared at me, her eyes darting back and forth as she searched for something. “You want to know how I came into your life? How I really see you and your species, beyond a shadow of a doubt?”
“Yes! More than anything. But how can you ever truly know what’s in anyone’s mind? I didn’t know the people closest to me: people who were my own species and I knew from the crib to the grave! If I couldn’t understand them…”
“I know you must have trust issues, Lucren, but I’m a lot simpler to understand.” The human frowned, seeing the skepticism and incredulity plastered all over my face. “I have nothing to hide. My motives are plain as day. You can see it for yourself! Remember how when we first met, I told you I scanned my memories to look for you?”
“Vaguely.”
“Our memories are archived by the nanobots, saved like any media file, to be accessed and perfectly record details for us; we’re faulty and forgetful in our natural state. It’s a wonderful aid. These files are, of course, private, but we can share them if we so choose. We call it memorywalking, and it passes along the entire experience to the viewer. Emotions, senses, words, and thoughts.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about my thoughts being recorded in a form that was able to be read, or me being able to see through an alien’s eyes. “That sounds deeply personal and intrusive. I can’t ask you to do that.”
“I want you to see, Lucren. I want you to know how I think and feel, because I’m not some unfathomable goddess. You might be surprised how mundane and interpretable my mind really is. Would you do me the honor of viewing my memory of how I discovered Aratas?”
My curiosity won out, knowing in my heart that Sagua deserved a fair shake for the kindness and inclusivity she’d shown me. “Sure.”
The human extended a file to me through the nanobot interface, and after steeling myself for what eldritch cognition I might find, I accepted. It was strange to have Sagua’s thoughts overlay my own, and to be at another place that I’d never seen before, with seamless knowledge integrating with my own. The Alliance were celebrating a great success saving Aratas—whatever that meant. I supposed just the start of bringing us to the afterlife? I could feel the alien’s happiness and comfort, as she sat next to her mother on a tucked-aside chaise longue. Corai’s slender fingers were extended, while Sagua painted pictures onto her nails.
The hairless Elusian gave a warm smile, watching her daughter trace a cerulean crescent atop the navy blue backdrop. “I’m so proud of all of the lives you saved: countless generations, while discovering a new species at that! You take after your father so much. You have his precog gifts.”
So casual, that she has his ability to see the future. I didn’t know that Sagua was the one to discover us. We owe our second life to her stumbling across us?
“I was lucky to be chosen to guide the probe.” Sagua felt a bit embarrassed (what?!) by the attention, and she lowered her eyes to avoid eye contact. She knew she’d wanted to help make a difference, but nothing had changed in her heart. It was so easy for her parents to be buddy-buddy with the Liberi, yet she was little more than a scrying eye who was several infinities away from this species. What were they like, looking upward on their world? Did she deserve to be a Watcher of a race she didn’t know at all? “You should thank the engineers. They fine-tune the instruments so we can find extinction-level events ahead of time.”
Extinction-level events? Wait, were Aratas supposed to destroy ourselves? She saw us…I can faintly pick it out…
Sagua had seen us through a fifth-dimensional probe that’d searched for cataclysms, since the Watchers hoped to rescue species that hadn’t reached the technological level to save themselves. There were many kinds of natural disasters that could wipe out an entire planet, the cold hand of the universe snuffing out all life on the planet; the humans kept watch for those occurrences, not wanting anyone to lose themselves to extinction like the Elusians. The question was phrased in a particular way, to draw out possible futures rather than certain ones.
“Which species would be destroyed without our intervention?”
It boggled my mind to think she questioned infinity’s realm, and that it was recorded on machinery that took their entire civilization’s might; the amount of effort they poured into the endeavor was remarkable. If this was true, then it was more important than ever to stop the war and to weaponize the truth to break the cycle of hatred! Racking the memories infused with her present consciousness, it dawned on me that what Sagua had seen hadn’t been a prophecy of our destruction by our own hand.
The “doomsday” asteroid that’d been spotted by Arata astronomers, which was reported in the media as having a 50% chance of striking Teska. They’d been lambasted in the press cycle when it turned out their calculations were off, and were blasted for fearmongering, when it turned out to be far-off a collision course; I’d heard about it, in the momentary scare, and rolled my eyes about the latest apocalypse. I thought those people got off on selling panic, but from what I saw in Sagua’s recollection, she’d foreseen that it would strike our world and kill us all?
Aratas are supposed to be dead, but the Watchers saved us…just so we could squander it all. Our species owes our continuing existence to them, beyond any of the afterlife stuff! We were going to be destroyed by a fucking space rock. They intervened, and this is how we thank them. They’re anything but our enemies. Sagua herself is our savior, and we owe her so much.
“Locating the asteroid, once you’d already seen it, was the far-easier task. We confirmed a collision course and sent it away,” Corai remarked. “There are so many species out there that need someone to care, just a little. Never let lives saved feel small, because to someone? That’s their whole existence. That’s eternity.”
Sagua sniffled, a deep sadness welling in her heart. “It’s not that. I want what you and Dad have with the Liberi, but we can’t have any real connection with them. I want to know the species I saved, not be some distant observer deciding everything for them. How do I find love, Mom, like you did with Dad?”
“You have to care so much that it hurts, and meet them on their level. You have to understand the lives they’ve lived like it’s your own. To take joys in their smallest successes and to root for them like an amazing cheerleader. You should always want the best for them, to reach out and to open yourself up, even at the cost of rejection. They should take your acceptance and support for granted! It should be constant, unconditional…loving them as they are, teaching them at their own pace, and embracing them with their flaws. That’s where the Elusians failed, and where humanity succeeded. You are my daughter, Sagua.”
I could feel Sagua cease her work, inspecting the manicure. “What if I fail with them, Mom?”
“That’s not the right question. Do you want to know the species you saved, and see what’s preserved through our work?”
“I do. I want to know everything about them. Aratas are such a big mystery though; nobody knows anything about them. What if I can’t do it? I thought being a protector would be enough. What if I can’t feel the same way you did every time you’re a Watcher? I don’t know the answers to their questions, I…haven’t been there the whole time. It’s so much pressure to think I’m going to let them down. That you could help them far better.”
Corai chuckled, shaking her head. “I did nothing for the first few million years of humanity’s lifespan. You’re going to be better by default. Whenever you need inspiration, remember how fragile life really is; that’s why we have to fight for it. Don’t get lost in the massive scale of it all, or you might drown. Find one person and hold on to them. Let them be the reason you care and prioritize the little things.”
“Picking one person out of billions seems…impossible. Picking favorites.”
“You’ll know them when the time comes, Sagua. It’ll be the one that sees you for who you are, and keeps you feeling like a person. That’s worth all the stars in the multiverse.”
I blinked my eyes open back in the real world, finding luminosity everywhere I looked. My breath had quickened, as I pointed numbly to my chest; the implication of why she’d cut the memory there was all too clear. That was…so much pressure, if I was her one person! I was a bad person, since trying to connect with me would only hurt her. I didn’t have the value of any of the stars up there, let alone all of them! Sagua needed to find a different Arata, pronto! She was right; she didn’t know me or us, and she couldn’t find her…love for our wicked species in a worthless, ordinary, uninteresting killer like me.
The human was giving me a quizzical expression, her eyes heavy. “Right, I’ll just spit it out; here’s what I wanted to confess. Lucren, I’ve been flirting with you at every possible opportunity, but you haven’t reciprocated or even acknowledged it. Do you not feel that way about me? That’s fine, I’m a big girl, but please, just tell me. I’m happy being your friend if that’s all you want.”
“W-w-what?!” I stuttered. Sagua is attracted to…no, that can’t be. Keensty was right? I mean, what could she possibly have seen that she liked about me? I’m a fucking disaster. “I don’t even know how to b-be your friend or to exist in the same place as you. You’re, um, you’re a wonderful person, Sagua, and that’s exactly why I can’t ruin your life by being with you! You’re so much better than me. I can’t even fathom a world where you could have feelings for me, and I can’t believe it even h-hearing you say that. I definitely shouldn’t even more, y’know, with the powers and abductions…”
The human nodded, her voice turning small. “I shouldn’t have expected you to be ready. Loving a…strange alien, who’s not even an Arata. You don’t see me as an equal—fuck. I would never set up that power dynamic on purpose; I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I’ll be fine, I, uh, just need some time. Don’t worry about it. We’re cool.”
“Sagua, can you please give me a moment to think?” My heart rate was speeding up, compounded by confusing emotions. It was wonderful to spend time with such a trustworthy, kind soul. She’d been nothing like I expected, and glimpsing within her mind, she…had insecurities too? Yet when she actually saw Aratas, the garbage she saved, that had to be a disappointment. If I was the only positive; were these feelings just because she was love-starved? “Don’t get rid of me yet! Please.”
Sagua looked away, blinking back tears and struggling to breathe. “I’m sorry, Lucren, I’m not…it just stings. I don’t think I can be around you…”
It burned at my heart that I’d hurt her so much, when she was the lone person keeping me sane. Being around her made even a dirtbag like me better, curing the blindness I’d had in my first life! I looked forward to speaking with her, soaked up every detail I could learn about her, admired her on so many levels, and wanted her to like me. Before I knew what came over me, I grabbed her shoulders and spun her toward me. Our faces collided as I tried to drink her in, starstruck that someone as amazing as her would notice me at all.
Sagua and I were touching, without touching, nanometers apart with the spacesuits atop our skin. The moment heightened my senses, before our lips moved beneath the tiniest barrier; I could feel her, in all of the glorious proximity that made my frills puff out with desire. It should’ve been inconceivable that I’d want this, yet everything else faded away with the alien surrounding me in all directions—encompassing my existence like the endless stars. Her hands pulled me closer, as if she was searching for a handhold. My nerves were on fire, overstimulated from the rush, but I dared myself to lower my palms to her hips.
I pulled back with the last bit of my senses, shaking from fear that I’d fuck this up if it continued any longer. “I, uh…wow. I like you.”
Sagua chuckled. “Do you really want this, Lucren?”
“Right now? Absolutely. I think I’d be an idiot who never forgave himself if I turned you down.”
“I’ll give you some time to be sure, and think about the ramifications. I don’t want to hurt you. If you’re still interested once work is over, come by. We could do a little more than watching movies.”
“Um, yeah. Okay. Uh, awesome.”
Sagua shook her head at my awkwardness, before warping me back to my room alone. A kernel of disappointment was seeded in my heart, since our time together had ended much too soon. That kiss had been amazing. I fell back onto my bed in disbelief over what had just transpired, replaying her words to me over and over. I had to figure out how to access my memories, if only to relive that moment. The alien goddess wanted me, and whatever the reason for that miracle was, I figured I should cherish it while her illusions about who I was lasted.
A/N - 17! The chapter speaks for itself; the oblivious escaping Arata realizes the immortal goddess has feelings for him! Sagren is real! What is Sagua going to think of Lucren’s treachery…or will this stop him?
As always, thank you for reading and supporting!