A Minute In Infinity

0. Out of Time

The starfighter pilot clambered out of the wreckage on shaky legs, blood leaking from the wounds that dotted his body. He wasn't worried. If he gave them time to heal, they would scab over and scar and add to his vast collection. But the pilot didn't have time, so he didn't care whether they healed or not.

He was alone on this ash grey planet devoid of life. He took a step, his boot striking a rocky outcropping, and he stumbled, hissing as his hands and knees scraped against the ground. Sand blew around him in thick waves as he bit back the pain that screamed throughout his body. The protective suit meant to guard pilots against harmful atmospheres and rough terrain had been left behind before he even headed for this planet. The information files said there was enough oxygen and that no toxins drifted through this atmosphere. He believed he'd be fine.

He didn't want to admit that he'd panicked. Leaving the suit had gained him precious minutes to escape, but he was regretting his decision now that dust threatened to smother his lungs. 

The pilot pressed the collar of his jacket against his face, and rose unsteadily to his feet. He coughed once, then walked away from his crashed ship with slow, careful steps. Wind lashed at the brown curls that framed his face, sand biting into every bit of exposed skin. It was as if the planet were rejecting his very presence. But within seconds, the wind died down until the whole planet was still. Not a single grain of sand moved. The pilot looked up, his eyes scraping across the barren landscape.

It didn't take long for his gaze to settle on a woman's figure standing several feet away. He stepped forward and stopped when he could see the curve of her heart-shaped face, framed by raven hair and dark, piercing eyes. She smiled, and his heartbeat raced though he willed himself to be still. His fingernails dug into his palm, leaving deep crescent markings.

"I'm back," he said, and his voice shattered like glass, broken with desperation and loss. The woman smiled brighter, but it wasn't the smile he'd known and cherished over the years. It was too wide, too cold, too blank. This was different. This wasn't her. It couldn't be her, because she was dead. 

She opened her mouth, and her voice seemed to echo from all directions, reverberating through his chest, down his spine, and through the ground. "You came back," she murmured, soft and sweet. She stepped forward until they were only scant inches apart. The pilot stared at her face, trailing the shape of her brow and the curve of her lips before he wrenched his gaze away. The illusion of her standing before him was too much to bear. It ate at him like acid in his veins.

The woman lifted her hand and brushed it against the pilot's cheek, trailing his jawline slowly until her fingertips caught under his chin. She leaned closer, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. Her breath was hot against his cheek.

"What is your wish?"

The pilot's intake of breath was sharp, his exhale ragged and torn. He looked far too old for his age, dark bags and lines hanging around his eyes, his shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. The woman's question, however, breathed new life into him. The creases in his brow flattened out and for once, he looked his twenty odd years.

"Send me back," he pleaded, the words hoarse as he spoke them. Dredging out his wish was like taking a knife in the chest. "I need to fix this."

The woman let go of his chin and stepped back, her arms crossing as she gazed at the pilot from head to toe. "You are so very entertaining," she said. She smiled, cold and mechanical. The pilot held her barren stare until she sighed and turned around to gaze at the desolate plain. There was silence save for the occasional distant howl of wind.

The woman's voice carried even though she wasn't facing him. "How many more times will you do this?" she asked, but there was no concern in her tone. Her words were blank and devoid of emotion. "Your mind might not be able to take it."

The pilot's gaze hardened with determination. "As many times as it takes," he said.

Her hair danced in the breeze as she turned on her heel to look at him. The pilot fought down memories of star-scattered nights and hushed whispers. The woman held out her hand, palm facing the sky. It was an invitation.

"I'll grant your wish," she said. The pilot's hand slid into hers with practiced ease and she grinned, but the expression held the same shallowness to it as the previous ones. As soon as their hands were clasped, light burst to life around them, drowning out the scenery and filling the pilot's vision with sparks and shadows. The familiar feeling of sinking into unconsciousness gripped at him and pulled him under. The ground disappeared from beneath his feet and he was falling, white fading to black, then melting into nothing.

"Please, do your best not to break," said the voice that followed him into the darkness. "I'd hate to watch you die."

~*~

Thanks for taking a look at AMII! I hope you've enjoyed this introduction.

Feel free to leave comments & constructive criticism, and don't forget to vote!

Sincerely,
Salem