CHAPTER 23
ELLIE
Archaeologists must have careful training to conduct their research. Training they can fall back on when they are otherwise compromised.
The morning comes too soon.
Zarek and I didn’t even have sex. I think we both felt the gravity of our situation too heavily to shed our clothes, or even lift our limbs. We laid like that all night, tangled together and matching our breaths, letting each other cry silently.
Eventually I fell asleep, but only because I knew we had a few hours of strenuous walking ahead of us.
My body acts without conscious direction, moving even when my brain is spiraling out of control.
I pack my satchel with water and protein bars, Zarek initiates his disguise, I lace up my boots, he gives me back my sunglasses, and neither of us give voice to the inevitability of today.
When we’re ready to depart, the sun barely peeking over the horizon out our window, Zarek leaves all of his purchases, including the clothes we got in Paris. Because he won’t be coming back down the mountain with me.
I’ll be returning alone.
My throat feels thick and awful as we lock our room behind us, and I use my phone to navigate toward the trailhead.
We had planned to start the short but rather challenging hike early in the day to avoid too many eyes on us as we searched for the blooms, and our plan seems to have worked.
There are a few hikers, obviously more prepared and serious with their water bladder packs and knees crossed with kinesiology tape, but they keep to themselves just like we do.
Part of me is afraid to say anything as we start our journey, but I’m afraid of losing out on these final moments with Zarek more.
“Tell me about Terilia. About your life,” I ask as we stand at the mouth of the trail, staring out at our final adventure together. I feel Zarek’s eyes on the side of my face, but if I look at him, I’ll cry. I take the first step, and he starts talking.
He tells me more about the history of Terilia, how long his people have been there, what made them leave.
He paints pictures with words about the architecture, the technology, the atmosphere.
Most of this he’s told me snippets of, but now he goes into detail, giving me insight about families he knows, neighbors and colleagues, government workers and friends.
He goes on little tangents often, telling long, winding stories about Zul or his parents or other beings whose names I can’t quite keep straight, but often begin with Zs.
As the trail gets steeper and my breaths become more labored, he keeps up the conversation, walking by my side and saturating my brain in the novelty of a place so new.
He doesn’t ask me about Earth. Maybe because it would be impossible for me to talk through my panting and huffing, maybe because it would be too difficult to know these things when we’re about to be separated.
We take small breaks every twenty minutes or so, drinking water and fueling, lingering a little longer than really is necessary as I catch my breath.
At one stop, a small pack of ibex breaches the horizon, and Zarek and I watch them meander the terrain for almost a half hour.
We’re only spurred back into action when another pair of hikers crosses our path, and we realize we might be seeing more people if we wait too long.
He takes my satchel, though, so I have to carry less weight.
The elevation starts to get to me about an hour in.
I stop a few times to lean against a boulder and drop my head between my knees, sucking in oxygen and willing my slightly rolling stomach to settle.
I’ve never been particularly sensitive to these kinds of things before, but I think my nervous system is a little overwhelmed with the enormity of the past week. Maybe it’s all hitting me at once.
Zarek never complains. Usually, he stops whatever story he’s telling and rubs my back. It’s lovely and terrible to be comforted when I know I’ll have to do the return trip on my own.
At some point, we reach a waterway. It’s shallow enough, but there’s a bridge of large stones that creates a path to the continuation of the trail. I stand on that first stone and lift my head to the sky, truly taking in the view for the first time.
This might be the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.
The sky is nearly cloudless, and the mountains around us stretch their peaks into the blue like greedy hands.
Animals that look a little like gophers scramble over boulders and through the foliage.
The ebb and flow of running water would be the most soothing thing in the world, if it was possible for me to feel soothed.
Some of the peaks in front of us still have snow on their sides, etched into their dips and valleys, spilling against the stone.
“I wish you had something like this in Terilia,” I say, my voice a little thready from lack of use and exertion.
“I do not,” Zarek replies easily, his arm settling against my shoulder as he joins me on the stone. I lean my head against him, selfishly wanting another moment of contact, a reminder of his warmth. “Earth deserves its beauty. I wish I could stay here and discover it all.”
We’re leaving things unsaid, but there’s no reason to make it worse for ourselves. We both know what else he wishes he could stay here for. We both know why I wish there was something beautiful on Terilia I could come explore.
Zarek helps me balance as we cross the stoney bridge, even though the sections are wide enough that I don’t wobble on my own. I still take his hand, letting him support me as I carefully find my footing on each next piece.
We take our time. Probably too much time.
A little over three hours later, with the sun shining brightly overhead and warmth and exhaustion seeping into our veins, we finally reach the areas where, according to the maps I downloaded to my phone, edelweiss may bloom.
They’re not particularly easy to find. The flowers are small, the white of the petals blending in with the shale rock and other shrubbery around us.
We are careful to stick to the trail, though there are no other hikers around us at this point.
We know eventually we will have to wander off path, but it’s like we’re waiting until we know we have the bloom in our sight to wander away.
We survey carefully, Zarek looking to our left and me to our right, trying to spot clusters of the bloom anywhere. Zarek’s stories have trailed off, and we are silent except for the occasional hum, signaling the other to turn and check out a potential sighting with us.
It takes almost an hour of searching to spot them. When I do, I’m so exhausted and a little lightheaded from the altitude change, that I almost think I’m hallucinating.
“Zarek,” I mutter when I realize I truly may not be.
In the distance, nestled among a thicket of greenery, I see a bundle of white, sort of pointed petals surrounding small bulbs of yellow.
I consider cleaning the lenses of my glasses to confirm, but Zarek stills beside me, so maybe it really is real.
“Let’s go.”
He takes my hand, and we carefully make our way off the trail, watching our step for dips in the terrain that would upend our footing. It doesn’t take long to reach the little bunch of blooms.
“Edelweiss,” Zarek breathes, his fingers hovering out toward the flower without touching it.
His eyes are bright and wide, and even beneath the contacts I can see the excitement and awe and wonder in them.
I’m briefly thrilled that I can finally read the expression in his eyes easily.
And then the thought sucker punches me in the stomach.
“We found them,” I say, kneeling down on the ground and staring at Zarek’s dream.
The pointed, starfish-like petals curl back a little on the ends, like they’re dripping toward the earth.
The fuzzy centers of the blooms are a beautiful bright yellow.
They’re a little odd looking, but they are beautiful. A little strange, but perfect.
“We really did,” Zarek says. When I turn to look at him, he’s not looking at the flowers anymore. He’s looking at me, something like tears lining his eyes. His lips are curled up into a shaky smile. “My turn to thank you. For making my dream come true.”
He laces our fingers together, and I can’t help it. I just can’t stand it anymore.
I feel a tear run down my cheek as I lift myself up and press my lips to his. It’s chaste and too short. A thank you. An apology.
“Thank you for being my dream.”
We sit there for a moment, our faces too close together and our cheeks wet, staring at the only thing that has come to matter over the past week—each other.
But the end is inevitable, and there’s no escaping the fact that he needs to collect his sample so he can help his planet and his people.
This is it. This is goodbye.
“I am going to collect a few bulbs. Don’t report me to the French authorities, okay?” Zarek asks, and a laugh bubbles out of me, caught up in a sob that I no longer can contain.
“Haven’t called the cops on you yet,” I reply, trying to make one final joke. To remember us like this, laughing and happy. “I think I’ve shown I’m trustworthy.”
Zarek’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t say anything else. Maybe he can’t find a joke right now.
He digs his fingers into the earth, carefully and respectfully pulling the plant up by its root. Dirt falls off the tangled root system as he shifts my satchel around his body.
“I will try to explain to them what I have found, and provide them with the full biological sample,” he explains, filling the painful silence with something we can both understand and appreciate—discovery.
“But just in case they are so angry they do not listen, I am going to submit a sample of the plant’s DNA to my DIRC.
That way Zul can initiate research on its properties even if I’m not given the chance to explain my hypothesis. ”
My chest tightens with the stark reality in front of us. It’s not just separation Zarek is facing. He could be punished, severely it seems, by his government.
“Would they…” I stumble on my words, trying to find the courage to ask. I have to know that he’ll be safe, otherwise we’re getting out of here now, screw helping his people. “Would they hurt you?”
Zarek shakes his head, a small smile on his lips.
“No, but they may hold me while they investigate my transgressions with the Intergalactic Unity Senate. The Tetheh are empathetic, and I believe they will advocate for my life to not be at risk. The Senate takes those recommendations seriously.”
He’s not promising me that there’s no risk to his life, and I feel my heartbeat start to trip in my chest. He turns his head toward me, looking first to where my hand is placed against his arm, then to my chest, and then to my eyes.
“Do not worry, my Ellie,” he says, trying to calm me down. “I will figure things out.”
“We could run,” I offer, gripping his arm more tightly, like my touch on his skin will be enough to tell him how serious I am with my offer. “We could disappear into some random city in America or France or wherever else we wanted. We could hide from them. I would hide with you.”
There’s a flash in Zarek’s eyes that tells me that he’s considered this option, and it makes me want to take it all the more. But he shakes his head again, leaning over to press his lips to my sweaty forehead.
“No, I want to do this for my people,” he says with a finality I can’t deny. “And I do not want you to live in hiding for the rest of our lives. They might find us anyway, and then things would be worse for both of us. So no, even though I want to say yes.”
I want to argue, but this is Zarek’s choice, and I can’t take that away from him. He’s achieved his dream, he’s found his discovery. He deserves to see it through.
“I am going to take a small sample of the edelweiss and place it on this receptor chip,” Zarek explains, freeing the DIRC from my satchel and handing the bag back to me.
“Once I do that, the internet-like service will reconnect, and Zul will come for me. We will have a few minutes, but I need you to go.”
The word feels like ice in my veins, but I keep my face controlled as I nod, even though there are more tears in my eyes. I understand, I really do. He’s trying to protect me.
Doesn’t make it any less devastating.
“You must do what I say, Ellie,” Zarek says, looking me straight in the eyes.
“They cannot know you were here. They cannot know that you know about me. You must walk that way”—he nods his head the way we came, toward a crest in the hill—“and hide. You won’t be able to see the ship with the cloning device they will use, but one moment I will be here, and the next I will be gone. And I don’t want you to see that.”
No and please don’t do this and take me with you are all on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow the words down and nod, a promise and a seal of our fates.
Zarek threads his fingers through my hair one last time, the DIRC booting up with its pretty blue and green lights shining at our feet.
I hate it. I love his hands and his starry eyes and his jokes and his irreverence.
“I will remember you forever,” I promise, putting my hand against his cheek so he can feel my heartbeat. Maybe he can tell how true my words are with the strength of it. Zarek closes his eyes, a warm and content smile on his face.
“Until the last star dies,” he says, leaning in to kiss me one more time.
It’s salty and awful and perfect and everything I never want to give up. He’s stronger than me, so he pulls away first, his fingers firm in the roots of my hair.
And then he cradles the edelweiss almost as gently, pulling a small corner off of a petal. Carefully, he frees a small disc from the side of his DIRC, and places the sample on it before sliding it back inside the system.
“Go, Ellie.”
I look at him one last time, memorizing his face, tucking it into the safest part of my heart. And then I stand with him and adjust my bag around my shoulder.
Before I even have a moment to turn, to listen to his directions, or maybe to smash the DIRC into the ground and kidnap him to a different, more remote set of mountains, Zarek’s eyes widen.
“No,” he mutters, looking over his shoulder where the air has started to shimmer.
I didn’t see anything, but Zarek must have sensed the electromagnetic waves of whatever is happening.
He places his body in front of mine, moving me fully behind him, like he can shield me from whatever is coming.
Still, unable to be blind to whatever I’m about to face, I peek around him to watch something materialize in front of us.
Zul. Taller than Zarek, and broader, but more severe-looking. Well, he would be severe-looking, if he didn’t look so completely despondent. Guilty. Downright fucking sad.
“I’m sorry for this,” he says in English. The last thought I have before the world goes white is oh no, that was for me.