Supernova Kiss

I've hit the self-destruct button. I did it as soon as I knew the triclops were on board. Tiny tourist vessels don't come with escape pods, so I've also overridden the alarm system – no point ruining an otherwise perfect wedding night. . .

Susan had always wanted to sit amongst the heavens and stare into their infinite glory. The gleaming white Aspect 5, with its Michelin starred robochef, panoramic viewing room, and luxury sleeping quarters is the perfect vehicle to enable a long weekend of just that: the ideal surprise honeymoon.

Our wedding day had all the traditional frills. We said our vows in front of a silver waterfall at sunset. I promised always to respect and protect her, even if we got divorced, and she promised only to bear as many children as we had pre-agreed – that number currently stands at one, but I promised to reevaluate in three years. It was really very romantic.

Susan’s knee-length white satin dress, fitted in all the right places to accentuate her curves, caught the light as she walked across the stepping stones on her father’s bionic arm. My dapper morning suit had a pale blue metallic buttonhole flower. It matched the synthesised ones in the blushing bride’s bouquet. The jacket and trousers were perfectly tailored to show off my hard work at the techni-gym. What a handsome pair we made. Such a shame we will never see the 3D photos or holographics. Most people get them live streamed and then repeat shuffled on a huge screen at the reception, but we decided to go old school again and get them digitally enhanced by AI, then just release our favourites onto select social channels after the honeymoon. I guess our parents can use them at our memorial service instead.

We had the obligatory canapes and champagne - served on the riverbank by F90 droids, of course. Everyone’s going for the gold bodywork on them these days for special occasions - it does bring out the shine on the glassware, but we opted for silver, just to be different.

The wedding breakfast was magnificent. Held after the comedic speeches in the Great Hall of Campion Castle. No expense spared by either of our families there. They even shipped in banaban steaks from three planets away for the main course. Absolutely worth it! The lab-cultivated meat melts in your mouth and has a wonderful buttery aftertaste. The hall itself has grand stone walls, vaulted ceilings and a chequerboard floor. Even though the chandeliers are now solar powered and the furniture is self cleaning, you don’t see anything like this hall built in the last millennium or so. Perfect for showing off all that ancient war memorabilia from so many centuries past. Shields and swords galore adorned the stonework and a huge open fire burning real coal (we had to get a special license - honestly, no expense spared!) on the west wall really gave it an olde worlde feel.

I especially liked the throwing stars, nunchucks and flick knives from the twentieth century. I tried to get some of their automatic firearms included in the deal. However, even though they had limited power and required reloading once out of 'ammo' they were still considered deadly enough to be banned within three hundred years of invention. Only museums hold them now. Of course, modern day laser and pulse weapons are much more efficient but highly illegal outside of the military, prisons, schools and hospitals. Besides, they’re designed to be concealed and don’t look nearly as impressive as the old-style showy-off stuff from a time when ‘men were men’ – whatever that means.

The gift table was stacked high with colourful presents. Sadly they will all have to be returned now, which is such a shame as I’m sure I spotted the red swirl of the Lasersmart logo beneath one of the thinner wrapping papers. I was hoping for their latest wall-mounted toaster. It monitors the individual particles of caramelised bread that enter the immediate atmosphere and cuts off the heat when they reach the perfect level. It even learns how long it takes you, on average, to remove the toast and factors that in to it stay-warm cycle, so preventing drying out and over-crisping. It can be trained to match the preferences and kitchen habits of up to 180 different people. Who cares if they cost a fortune to run and are expensive to recycle? Someone finally produced a reliable toaster! Maybe I should have used our only, ten second, distress message home to request that it goes to my Mum and Dad. Instead I wasted it telling all the family how much we both love them all. Oh well, you live and learn.

After we did the rounds of chatting to all our friends and relatives at the reception, we made our excuses and got changed into our travel gear to head off on honeymoon. The dressing room in the castle was luxurious and beautiful, right down to the polished oak floor (you don't see real hard wood too often since the tree protection laws finally came in) and purple velvet arm chairs. It even came fully serviced by his and hers butler and maid droids. They were the latest models with the Biotech Skinlike™ covering. They didn’t catch on our clothing or anything while they whipped off our wedding outfits and slipped us into something more practical.

Susan got a bit suspicious when I suggested she should leave her veil behind in favour of a series 12 pressure helmet and also mentioned that that would go better with the takeoff suit I’d provided to her maid. But she soon popped them on and even abandoned her stilettos when I produced a pair of cushioned interplanetary gravity boots in her size. I really had thought of everything – if I do say so myself.

While we were getting ready, Susan’s brother tied the requisite number of titanium hover cans (four – one for each Earth year since we met) to the bumper of our fusion powered transport buggy. He also sprayed Just HGlitched on the rear window in fireproof foam. I was glad it wasn’t me who signed the hire contract. I’m not sure they have a death-before-payment clause, unlike the modern dowry agreement I had obviously taken out to benefit Susan’s mother. You see how traditional we are? She'll still get fifty percent, and it'll be well deserved.

Anyway, Susan knew there was something exciting happening as soon as we were dressed and in the buggy. And when she saw the Aspect 5 on the pad, well, she could hardly contain herself.

“Are we going space gazing? Oh Jim, this is just too perfect!” She flung her arms around me, and we rubbed our cheeks together with no shame at all.

We had dared an illegal kiss once, like they used to do it before the MegaPlague of 2287. We both quite liked it. I knew as soon as I hit the self-destruct that we’d have to do that again before the countdown reached zero. Damn the security drone cams – at this point I didn’t care who saw us – you can’t resurrect a felon for punishment if he’s been blown to smithereens a petametre above the planet – not with current tech anyway.

I can’t believe I made the mistake of landing on an uncharted moon to get my bearings. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That must have been where the triclops climbed on. I was sure there was no breathable atmosphere, even for them, or I wouldn’t have done it. The sneaky three-eyed buggers get everywhere. I spotted two of them crossing the top of the mechanical arm just after relaunch, and if they were there, they were everywhere. If they could get on a craft, they could get in a craft. If they could get in a craft, they could decay its very fabric. If they could decay that they could decay anything. The law was very clear on the protocol: enter deep space and self-destruct.

We sped across the galaxy, marvelling at the billions of little lights that surrounded us as we flew. I picked a perfect spot to slow down and gaze at so many other worlds.

With the craft ambling along on autopilot, we removed our helmets and snuggled up on a white, bamboo-leather love seat. We stared as much into each other’s eyes as we did into space. With the lighting dimmed inside the craft, it was truly magical. Our vessel drifted between constellations of brilliant white stars. The occasional planet lent a spot of orange or blue to the stunning spacescape. The view from the panorama room was breath-taking. Heavenly bodies twinkled and glinted before us, burning comets shot past leaving spectacular dust trails, red nebulae wisped through the blackness. It was our own private celestial show of galaxies, star clusters and planetary systems, many thousands of kilometres from home. But our time to wonder at them was limited.

“I wish we could stay here forever,” Susan whispered as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her, but she’s going to get her wish.

There was a rumble and a bang, then a sudden jolt as the craft lurched forward with the detonation of the first internal bomb.

We only have moments before the air gets sucked from the living spaces and we are jettisoned out in tiny pieces to join the stars.

I lean in for that final, supernova kiss, with a front row seat for the interstellar fireworks of the Aspect 5 exploding in our honour.