CENOTAPH

ENDINGS, BURIALS, AND WTFS

VEER

They survived.

Ramsey didn't. He never came back from 1978.

Quinn went AWOL the day they returned from their New York mission.

They didn't make plans to meet again. It was over.

Veer resigned two weeks later, after President Alicja personally assured him that everything was all right, that there was nothing to worry about. He had the nagging suspicion that if Ramsey hadn't confused the devices, he'd be the one lost forever.

Veer was still lost at the end. Nothing was right without Quinn by his side. He had fought his feelings for so long, only to lose the love of his life in an epic fallout. He'd even been preparing to face his family and his community, clinging to the technicality that yes, he was supposed to marry and have children, but he could do all that with a man. His beliefs were based on the tolerance of all human beings regardless of their race, religion or sexuality. There was nothing specifically written against a same-sex couple as long as he did his duty to have a family and not live like a hermit. But now that promise of a tomorrow with Quinn had vanished like morning mist.

Going back to Punjab would be a futile exercise. The sight of the Harmandir Sahib in his home city would make him crumble. Every sight of Butter Chicken would drive him sad with longing. The smell of garam masala would be like a sword in his heart. He should find a place where the Indian presence wasn't that big.

Veer chose a place where there weren't that many people anyway. Antarctica.

On December 1st, 2089, Veer finished his volunteer time with Better Earth. He left Climate Control Station Theta and started the long journey back to Aurora because he couldn't think of any other place to go.

Five days later, Veer rented a hotel room under an alias in a busy area of Nippon East. After that, he wore a gray knitted cap, baggy clothes, fingerless gloves, and bug-shaped sunglasses to walk the several blocks from his hotel to Circular Park Three every day, sporting the bushy beard he'd grown while surrounded by snow. He gazed at the Pegasus Fountain, across from Tarot Towers, for hours.

Two weeks into this routine, a boy of ten or twelve sat beside him on his usual bench. He had a sunny complexion, a thousand freckles, and wore a terribly annoying yellow beret, tilted toward his left eye. "Are you a bum, sir?"

Veer chuckled. "I'm not."

"I needed to ask." The boy took out a folded piece of paper from one of the many pockets of his pants. "Are you Veer then?"

Taking off the sunglasses, Veer asked disgruntledly, "Who told you my name?"

"I guess you are Veer. This is for you." He gave Veer the folded paper.

"What's your name, kid?"

"JayeThreeFive." The little imp had a spark of defiance to his demeanor that Veer found mildly interesting.

"Why not thirty-five?"

"'Cause I'm not like everybody else." He jumped off the bench and waved. "See ya!"

"Of course you are not." And that reminded Veer of things he shouldn't be remembering.

Veer stared at the folded paper with the same intensity he reserved for gazing at the singing fountain for a long time— his mind completely blank. He finally opened it. In blocky handwriting were the following words:

My Veeru, stop being ridiculous and get on with your life.

Veer laughed like a mad man, like he hadn't laughed in months. He rose to his feet and walked back to his hotel. For a moment, naked in front of the mirror, he stared at the asterisk-like scar over his heart, reminder of his last night around Quinn. He shaved the beard after taking a shower and went out again to buy new clothes.