Page 88 of The Space Traveller's Lover
He takes a deep breath and carefully holds the pouch over her chest with his fingertips. As he presses along the sides, a translucent syrup pours over her skin. The glimmering gel rapidly absorbs into her pores, coalescing over every contour of her body and sticking on every thread of her hair.
When he is satisfied that she’s completely covered and the gel has settled into a jellylike thin layer, he tightly closes the capsule’s translucent lid, securing her body in place.
“Sleep tight, Shaillah, for when you wake up, that’ll be when our paths will diverge or intertwine—forever!” he professes while picking up her belt and necklace from the floor.
Rothwen hastily makes his way towards the front of the aircraft and inspects the cockpit holograms.
“My Supreme Commander, the great Kuzhma-Or, give me the order!” he roars, leaning over the dashboard, his hands resting on the engines panel.
Kuzhma-Or nods with a flagrant arrogant grin while puffing up his mighty chest.
Rothwen proudly watches as the calculated exit course swiftly sprawls across the dashboard holograms. “Oh, soyen” (brothers). “We are on our way—on to bigger things,” he boasts. Basking in their glory, they lean back into their body-shaped seats as he announces: “Time of arrival to The Prestige—T-130” (seconds). “Estimated maximum distortion—one degree of full space-time frame.”
Rothwen unlocks the flying sequence, using the encrypted code from his unique brainwave frequency. Instantly, the departure-craft’s aerodynamic body tilts to a vertical position, deftly pointing upwards while rapidly spinning on its axis over the displaced waters of the whirling ocean. Like a fired-up missile, it shoots up, seamlessly breaking through the zenith of the high dome ceiling.
The engines’ buzzing sound changes into a high-pitched hiss as the aircraft pushes through the interlocked tunnels. In a flash, it breaks through the Pacific Ocean’s deep waters and into the looming dark sky, amid the explosive rumble of successive sonic booms, swiftly disappearing from view behind its radiant fizzling trails.
CHAPTER 39
DESTINY
Impossible things are just hard. You only need to
find the tool strong enough to break them.
The departure-craft pinpoints its entry slot at the giant mothership’s flight deck port. Like a piercing arrow, it perfectly slides into its target. As it comes to a sudden stop, Rothwen runs towards the changing cubicle and opens the deep-sleep capsule. Shaillah looks so comfortable and peaceful, as if she has suddenly fallen asleep. He pulls her out of the snug-fitting bed, her body bending halfway onto his back. He carefully dresses her, wrestling with her limp body while wrangling with his turbulent thoughts.
The multi-port bay folds into the mothership’s fuselage, merging into its sleek outline. At the same time, the synchrotron rings swivel, extending and locking at the perfect launch angle, their flashing rim lights revolve faster and faster, flaring with ever-increasing power. As the hyperdrive needles stick out from the front and the antiproton engines fan out from the rear, the autonomous space-time tunnelling spaceship prepares for its planned exit from the solar system.
Shaillah opens her eyes, rubbing her eyelids and peering through the blinding white glow. She tries to sit up but helplessly falls back onto Rothwen’s shoulders. She feels half-awake, half-asleep as Rothwen carries her through the swirling aisle. Rows of white, rectangular spotlightsbrightly illuminate the glossy corridor, running endlessly into the distance as far as she can see. She wriggles her body, trying to break free.
As Rothwen pulls her over and carefully stands her up in front of him, she keeps looking at her feet, hiding her face under her long cascading hair.
“Good! You are back to normal now.” Rothwen cheers. “It was only a blip.”
But she ignores him, turning around and inspecting her surroundings instead. She reckons she’s standing on what she thought was the ceiling, but then she realises that the ceiling looks precisely the same as the floor. Everything inside the broad gaping aisle is perfectly symmetrical and reflects each other, making her lose the notion of which way is up.
Then, the white, gleaming spotlights start getting progressively transparent as the whole surface turns into a boundless, see-through viewport. The spaceship’s pulsating light beacons flood the entire inner space with its warm, soothing orange and blue glow, revealing the sleek outline ofThe Prestige, glistening against the daunting blackness of space, flanked by the glowing Sun and the barren Moon.
“Sheban lai” (It’s high time), “Shaillah. You’ve got to get ready.”
“I remember everything now—the dogfight, your choking embrace. What have you done to me?” She frowns.
“I saved you from certain oblivion. That’s what I did.”
“Where are my pendant and belt?” she asks while fumbling over her chest and waist.
“I’ve put them away for now … security reasons.”
“I’m done with fighting you, Rothwen. I’m going to go away as soon as I can.”
“Where to?”
“As far away from you as possible—but not before I make sure every bit of my feelings for you gets deleted from my brain. Or better still, I will keep them … to hate you forever. My soul will not rest in your presence.” She seethes.
“You insist on your rebellion. Well, you are a free space traveller now. Do what you want. But now, you need to follow me onto the flight deck. Once we reach the Grand Fleet, you can take the first departure-craft to Rom-Enjie.” He looks at her with such stony indifference it makes her despair inside.
“You can go ahead, fulfil your duty. I prefer to stay behind. I don’t want to be part of your wicked plan,” Shaillah scowls at him, her narrowing eyes channelling all her resentment. “As for you, I’ll make sure I never see you again.”
