Pillars of Creation

Love Eternal

"It will take a few minutes to initialise the stack. Please try not to overload the system during that time."

Mr Brayton held up a hand and smiled at the technician. "Please. You don't have to go through everything," he said. "I've been coming here every year since ... for a long time." Mr Brayton's voiced cracked from the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him; but, somehow he managed to keep from breaking into tears. "I always come here on our anniversary."

The technician returned his smile with a practiced sympathy. "Of course, Mr Brayton." She consulted the tablet that she was cradling in the crook of her elbow. "But I have to make sure that you are aware of the necessary procedures."

"I'm all too aware." Mr Brayton suppressed a twinge of irritation. "Now, is it alright if I see my wife?"

"As you wish, Mr Brayton." The technician offered the old man her arm. "Do you need any help?"

Mr Brayton took a firm grip on his walking stick, then used it to lever himself up from the waiting room chair. "No. Thank you. I can still manage." He took a couple of hobbling steps forward. "But you could show me where I can meet with my wife."

"It's this way." The technician stood back, allowing her charge to move ahead of her. She escorted him out of the reception area, through the labyrinthine corridors of the institute. Even though he had been coming here for over a decade, Maxwell Brayton had still not managed to decipher its layout. It was all too easy to become lost in the sterile white and chrome corridors if you did not have someone knowledgeable to guide you; to wander like some lost soul. Mr Brayton chuckled as the thought occurred to him. A lost soul? In this place? It would never be allowed. Every soul here was accounted for.

"Here we are," the technician announced. She had stopped outside an anonymous door which, at a touch of the pad beside it, slid open. "I'll be waiting for you when you've finished."

"Thank you."

The door closed behind Mr Brayton, sealing him in the room. From within, the room was shaped like a sphere that had been flattened at its poles. An array of glass lenses were embedded in the ceiling, each one glowing with a soft, blue-white light that did nothing to relieve the room's stark interior. A single mock-Bauhaus leather chair had been placed by the door, next to a low table. Apart from these items of furniture, the room was empty.

"Mr Brayton?" Hidden speakers projected a quiet voice seemingly into Maxwell's ears. "we shall commence when you are ready."

"No sense in wasting time," Mr Brayton told the room. "I would like to see my wife, please."

The light in the room began to shift, taking on a warmer hue as a flesh-coloured cylinder appeared in front of Mr Brayton. As he watched, the cylinder began to take on human features: arms, legs, a torso, a head; until it had become a near-perfect hologram of a woman.

"Mary!" Mr Brayton took a faltering step towards the hologram, his arms extended ready to embrace his dead wife's image. The hologram rippled at his touch, and black and white fringes of interference spoilt the illusion. Mr Brayton pulled away and glanced down at his feet, embarrassed at his mistake. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

The image of his wife smiled at him. "Don't worry," she said. "It's good to see you Max. How long has it been?"

"Too long." Max swayed back and forth, uncertain as to whether he should sit down or stay standing. His wife made the decision for him.

"Sit down. You look worried. Tell me what's on your mind."

Max fumbled for the chair behind him and then sat down awkwardly. The minimalist leather upholstery had been designed for appearances, not for comfort. A similar chair materialised behind Mary. Her image flickered and then she appeared on her chair, sitting as if it was the most natural thing in the world.