Beyond Earth

Setareh was beyond excited. Once every twelve ekkers, the Inter-Gates aligned. Normal Gates only connected neighbouring systems, and could take days to travel with. Inter-Gates could get you anywhere, in the blink of an eye.

Usually, when the alignment happened, it was a day off from the busy, unrelenting schedule of her home world, Star 3. Setareh slept through the alignment entirely some days, and others she woke up just in time.

She'd groggily wake up, to see the people board the Inter-Gate, all of them mere flesh coloured flecks against the giant metal ring. Then, in an explosion of colours, they'd disappear, to some far-off galaxy or system.

This time was different. For once, she was one of the people signing their names to go through the Gates. She was going to meet her surrogate father.

He lived in Delta System 1, and she lived far, far away, in the hectic heart of Star 3. It took months to travel using the normal Gates, and the VR communications felt hollow, spied upon and awkward. So they hadn't spoken much in five years since she'd lived with him.

Finally, Setareh convinced herself. They should meet. She cared about him and she was lonely now that her friends had moved away to other systems. Her designated family unit was defective, and she missed happy family discussions.

"We'll talk every day," Her friends had promised, but the words were empty then, and they had barely spoken since. They were off on their own adventures, and hated hearing bad news from her.

So Setareh typed a message, clumsy in its affection and openly hopeful. Not too hopeful though, that would be embarrassing. And surprisingly, her surrogate father said yes too. Setareh hadn't really been expecting a yes, thinking it was awkward and she was unwanted now. He'd surely fostered other kids by now, kids more important to him than one he'd taken care of years ago.

She stayed up all night the day before the Inter-Gate aligned. What should she say? Be obvious with her loneliness or show him she was fine, having a great time? Impress him, maybe? She memorized facts about Delta 1, and tried to practice what she'd say. So many projects to share with him, things she'd only dreamed of being a part of.

She didn't want to disappoint, make the meeting worthless. It had to be perfect.

The day of the Gate alignment, she was up much, much earlier than the rest of the house, anxiously pacing. Fours hours before the Gates aligned. She found her most formal outfit and tried to look like a put-together grown up.

Now that it was actually happening she was worried, anxious. It had seemed so far away when she'd first sent the message...

Setareh was not an extrovert. She was a quiet loser, whose coworkers didn't bother hiding their disdain about.

But she breathed in a few times. This was no time for shyness.

And the message came in on the Comp. I'm so sorry, I've contracted a sickness and won't be able to come.

With a sinking heart, Setareh knew their meeting was over. Intergalactic pandemics were not allowed, there were too many diverse life forms at risk.

She slid down against the door, gloomy. Her heart squeezed, and she couldn't make herself respond.

She had breakfast, undid her hair from its braids. The fridge was opened, closed. Opened. Closed. She paced again, wondering whether she should even be upset.

Finally, two hours later she sat down in front of the Comp and started writing back. She worked hard to keep the disappointment out of the words, to not sound whiny or obnoxious.

She made it sound bright, and saw the second part of his message.

But I want to know everything going on with you, how is work? How is life on Star 3?

She almost typed lonely. Then burst into tears over the keyboard. How embarrassing! A life engineer from a family of clinical scientists, crying over a message that wasn't a rejection or failed experiment.

But it reminded her that she had no one to talk to, just parents that told her how lucky she was, how hard she should be working. No one from her old life was left on Star 3 anymore, and some days, it was really hard to do anything.

Setareh had to admit how sad she was. There was so much to say, to think, to share. And she couldn't miss work and visit Delta System 1, either.

They would reschedule, but who knows if it would work out again. If everyone could make time again. Setareh erased everything she'd written and went for a sunny message. One from a well-adjusted, independent, success story.

Not a message from a clingy, disappointment.

She ran her eyes over it again. Happy, cheerful, full of life and promise. That's what this message said. No darkness lurking anywhere in these positive adjectives.

She sent it off, and didn't bother checking for a response. She didn't want sympathy. To be honest, she didn't know what she wanted.

Setareh hated hugs. She hated pity, but her surrogate father had a way of making her sound special. Worth keeping around, someone who could accomplish great things.

"Setareh?" Her mom asked with surprise, seeing her daughter sitting agaisjnt the door. "You'll miss the alignment, what are you still doing here?"

"He got sick," Setareh replied, trying to keep a smile on her face. It would be unfair and reckless to reveal how much she cared about her other father.

"Oh? At his age? I hope he gets better." Then her mom swanned away, off to the kitchen, or her own workstation.

Setareh stayed there, melancholy and miserable. Even when physical distances didn't matter anymore, apparently human biology and emotions were slower to evolve. Slower to accept VR meetings and Comp messages as communication.

She watched the bright Inter-Gate through her window, saw the people take their seats and then, in a magnificent burst of light, they disappeared.

Reappearing somewhere else, to see their families.