13
They walked endlessly. On and on, mindlessly, with no real method than ‘try that way.’
They walked some more with nothing happening.
Still, they continued to stroll through the grass as it stroked their knees, feeling soft and prickly on the bare of their shins.
Quark wondered if maybe they were walking in place.
He was thinking out loud, talking about how unsure he was about finding a way to the other dream departments.
Should they try a different direction? All around them was grass and a never-ending blue sky.
He wished out loud how much he would appreciate a sign—something to guide them on the right path.
‘But we need to do this. Well, I need to do this.’
Amid their anxiety, Gamal contacted them, letting them know Leo was having an insomnia attack and would be late that night. ‘It shouldn’t be long now..’
Under different circumstances, Quark would have been content in waiting.
Waiting in the quiet–him rambling all about nothing, musing and ranting about the book in his hand.
A book that wouldn’t relinquish its contents, give him a coherent word besides ‘fuck.’
Of course, the most synonymous word in the universe was the easiest to decipher.
However, Pulse was not keen on waiting around. “Still having trouble with that book?”
Yes, always yes. Hopelessly yes. Spending time on the first page drove him to hair-pulling frustration. He read that same word three times before, why does it look different every time? If he can’t figure out this book, what hope did he have with figuring out Leo?
If he had the right tools, a reference to her mother language, a means to cross reference, surely the rest would be elementary.
That was what Pulse wanted him to say. A gleam in their eye, a spark of cunning and mischief; they leaned over, humming a plan they must have been sitting on for the past thirty minutes.
Reasons for both of them to stand up, brush off the dirt from their backsides, and face against the wind towards the Memory Department.
‘Wherever that was.’
“I don’t know,” Quark was on another tangent, riddled with nerves and pacing more so than walking. “We made it to Wish Fulfillment, but Gamal was leading us there, right? How do we end up in Memory?”
Pulse listened, their hands in their pockets, moseying behind Quark as his dwarf star led the charge. "Just keep going forward," they assured. "Something is bound to change."
Quark noticed the change in Pulse's demeanor this morning.
He couldn't pin down the tone in their voice—perhaps he was overthinking it.
Pulse was quick to prove they were content on being the listener in conversation, but this was a different kind of attention.
'No, I'm overthinking it. Are they still sleepy?' Quark doubted it.
There was a shift in the air around them. That unfamiliar but delightful smell was accented, the natural heat of their skin touched the top of his hand. Pulse walked closer this time. The sleepy argument was disbanded, because their eyes were aware and focused on–whatever was around Quark.
"You alright?" he finally asked.
"I'm good, why?"
"You are acting a little differently, is all. Did you have a weird dream?"
"Is dreaming about being a big ball of plasma and energy again strange?"
"No, mine is about the same."
"Then I don't think so." Pulse ran their hand through their hair, holding the back of their head so their cowlick stopped flailing against the breeze. "I'm acting strange, though? In a bad way?"
"Just different. I mean, you don't normally stand so close to me."
"Sorry about that," Pulse took a side step away, causing Quark to correct himself.
"You can stay by me," Quark surprised himself by the sudden reaction. "Just feel free to talk to me too, you know?"
Their eyes sparkled for a brief moment, a subtle curl of the corners of their lips, not hesitating to crowd into the dwarf’s space.
'Don't be silly,' Quark scolded himself. ‘You don't know them well enough yet. This is probably normal for them. They’re just being nice…’
Nonetheless, he loved the brief moment when his shoulder brushed Pulse's side. That uncontrollable blast of energy gave Quark a shock of fire in his core. 'That's normal, too, isn't it?'
The sound of their footsteps was different.
A tapping on tile instead of swishing through long grass.
Both the stars looked down; now walking on a sheet of glass while underneath was swaying pale seaweed.
Before Quark could say something, the world around them changed as they looked back up.
Instead of a vast blue sky, white walls were stretching upwards into an endless, bright void.
They slowed to a crawl, stunned. Quark craned his neck, trying to see the end to the walls, when Pulse tapped his shoulder and pointed forward.
Thirty yards away was a wide sealed archway, guarded by two centurions.
The two guards were steel-clad in white armor, standing in attention, uneasily still until the stars grabbed their attention.
They looked like unfinished clay statues.
The artist who created them had begun sculpting their faces, but only carved holes for their eyes and drew where their mouths would be.
The two were confused by the stars.
"Lost?" one asked, barely animating his mouth.
There was a slow hesitancy to Quark's tone as he spoke. "Depends, where does this door lead to?"
The centurion that spoke looked to the second before responding. "This is the Memory department. Do you work here?"
"Well, we come from Wish Fulfillment," Quark explained. "We were hoping for this department exactly. I have this book that I am trying to translate, but I need our dreamers' mother language to help. I hope to get some references from here.”
"No can do," the second sentry spoke sternly. "Unless you directly work here, no other stars are permitted."
"I just need some references, even a paper, a note!" Quark protested. "Is there anything you can give me to help?"
"Rules are rules."
Quark pouted but was not about to give up. Pulse took that moment to pipe in.
The charm was slapped on. Their hand movements were eloquent.
Bowing their heads in respect and apology.
Compared to the cool, subdued, and even relaxed demeanor of the Pulse before, that grace was amplified.
The type of grace you couldn't stop staring at, a type of movement that was captivating and pleasing to watch.
“We are sorry to be troubling you," Even their words were laced with sweetness and courtesy that leant them a mask of an innocent darling.
“Is there something we can do to convince you?"
Quark watched the centurions melt like wet clay.
One guard was done in, faltering immediately under that sugary smile.
Even Quark was falling for the charm–harder than he was before, at least.
"I'm sorry," the second guard responded, coughing for a moment before composing themselves. "If we let you two through, Ms. Gamal would have our heads."
"It would be quick," Pulse continued, painting a little pout on their lips. "We don't mean to ask for much. We don't want you two in trouble, of course, but we'd really appreciate it if you could help somehow."
The first sentry blew out a breath. It would have taken an immense amount of strength to resist Pulse. Everyone calls them the Cosmic Darling for a reason. Only Quark could see that flicker in Pulse's eyes.
"If we could, we would, um—"
"My name is Pulse," they bowed their head, giving the second guard a dazzling smile. "It's a pleasure."
"Pulse—The lead of the choir?"
"That's right."
"Oh, well," the second sentry was amazed, looking to their flustered partner back to the door.
Quark was rightfully impressed with Pulse's performance. They continued to sweet-talk the guards, breaking down their defenses with courtesy and a little flirting. Yet, Quark's throat tightened. 'Don't get so jealous, dummy.'
"I suppose we can, maybe, get you some papers to help you," the first guard told Pulse. "That's all we can do. Honestly, if we let you in, our boss would fire us, and Gamal would hunt us down and murder us in cold blood."
"I'm tempted to do that now."
Icy crystals coursed through Quark's spine. A voice that had always been stern and stoic now had a sharp edge. The sound of clicking stilettos and tapping of long cat-like nails made everyone hold still for much longer than Gamal had the patience for.
"You two," she mentioned to the guards, "I'm speaking to your superior about this. As for you and you," she commanded the stars forward. "A word."
Quark held his head low. Maybe he can use his hair to hide from those eyes–better yet, implode in on himself within the privacy of his lavender curtains. Pulse folded their arms, refusing to make eye contact. Definitely more annoyed than ashamed.
"What the fuck do you two think you are doing?" She demanded.
"We just—" Quark folded immediately. "We just were looking to help translate this book we found. We were hoping to be able to read it."
"And this book is...?"
Quark gripped the book through this pocket, feeling his fingers grow numb.
"Let me see it."
Reluctantly, Quark pulled out the book, trying to hold it far enough away where she wouldn't take interest, but Gamal snatched it.
She barely gave it a passing glance, but gathered enough judgment to make her displeasure known. "An interesting pick for reading material. 'Lonely Liminal Labyrinth.' You somehow picked out the exact book that Leo has been eyeing for over a decade now."
"I don't get what the deal is," Pulse refuted. "She wants to read it—"
"And dreamers are forbidden from reading dream texts."
"But not stars, right?" Pulse shot back, ever defiant. Quark quickly set a hand on Pulse's arm, making a quick, soft shushing sound.
"I doubt this was only going to be read by the two of you," Gamal accused, tucking the book under her arm. "I don't think a star would randomly steal dream material that so happens to be the desire of their dreamer out of sheer coincidence." She glared at Quark. "I am right, aren't I?"
Quark shrunk within himself. Pulse wrapped their arm tightly around him like they were trying to protect him from blows. If Quark's face grew any hotter, he may just combust on the spot.
"That's what we're supposed to do, isn't it?" Pulse asked. "Aren't we supposed to fulfill our dreamers' wishes? As wishing stars?"
"And follow the rules." Seret rubbed the bridge of her nose, taking the moment to breathe through her nose. "We have these rules in place for both the dreamers and the stars' safety. I do not care about a dreamer or a star's wishes if it means putting both in jeopardy."
"What then? What's the worst that could happen if we don't follow these rules? Why can't Leo just read one book?"
"These rules are made for a reason. They are created after the drastic mistakes of stars before you."
"Don't you think you're being—"
"A bitch? Yes, and I am going to be a bitch about it," she finished Pulse's settlement like she’d rehearsed it.
"And I will continue to be a massive bitch if it keeps everyone safe. This is my job, and I will not play nice because some pulsar with a pretty face and a white dwarf with a dangerous curiosity refuse to follow a handful of rules."
The verbal slap caused Quark to flinch. The flinch caused Pulse to stiffen and grip his shoulder firmer, their touch hot through Quark's sweatshirt. Both hung their heads, unable to respond further, though for different reasons.
"You two are late," Gamal went on. "Leo is asleep and waiting for her stars."