FALAHA'S JOURNEY: A Spacegirl's Account in Three Movements

Episode #53

Well, that was embarrassing—both Eyuran and Father saw my cowardly retreat!

Standing in the enormous hallway, I caught my breath. Dimly lit, it stretched indefinitely in both directions. A strange, unfamiliar place that was endless.

Cool down, Falaha. Cool down. This was not the time to be running around! It was good I hadn't strayed too far from my group and gone outside the safe zone.

"Falaha! You all right?" I got Eyuran's message through rabhain.

"Yeah." I slowly turned around. A dark tube tunnel opening loomed behind my back. "If you follow me, you'll get to another big passageway. Bring everyone here."

I studied my location with greater attention this time. The monotonous rift sequence of the passage walls looked like a ribcage. The rifts were wide but not too deep. Something was here, in this place. I couldn't put the feeling into words yet, but it wasn't a pleasant one.

My rabhain came alive with analysis from the sound tracking system, and soon Eyuran appeared from the tunnel, then the Medan, and then—my father. Bradoh exited dive not far from me as well.

While we were looking around, I happened to come close to Baro, bringing an awkward, silent pause between us as we stared each other in the eye. Uneasy and restless, he drew his mouth into a straight line. It also made me nervous, but I was sure my feelings were not a mistake, so I didn't back away this time, waiting for his answer.

"That's kind of flattering. I didn't see it coming at all," he said very seriously. "But I'm not dating right now." Then he mumbled, trying not to look me in the eyes, "Not to mention I screwed up my eyes, expecting a forehead blow in my face—I almost died there!"

Is he angry, scared or embarrassed?

"Oh. I had my eyes closed, too, so I didn't see that."

"Sure. Good to know." His posture was too stiff. "Still not dating."

"Well, sorry about that then."

"No problem."

Well, that's that. I was rejected.

Twice.

"Forget it and pretend nothing happened," I told him.

"If you say so." He looked at me, contracting his brow, and a bulging vertical vein appeared running up his forehead—was he thinking hard how to continue? "Don't get me wrong. I like you, as a mission partner, but not to the point of falling for you. You are still several heads too short to my line of sight."

"Then, would you fall for me if I was older?"

"Well—" I could see some live color appearing on his face. He wasn't used to discussing his feelings directly. "Ask me in seven or eight years or so, if I live that long and am still around." Then he muttered, "I probably won't be, so I'm not really qualified to answer your question."

He's hopeless.

"I'm fine with you just 'liking' me. If you're comfortable with that." His tension subsided a bit.

"That's unusual for a Danna to forgive a murderer; more so to forgive rather quickly."

"I never said I forgave you. But that doesn't hold me back from liking you," I replied. "We each have different sides to our personality. Not every one of yours is bad; not all of mine are good. So it doesn't mean I don't have the capacity and desire to love, or that you don't have anything to be loved for or that you are less valuable as a person because of your crime. I'm not your Council judge and my duty as your Commander still stands, even with my father present. Every baggage you carry is a part of who you are; whatever it is, strong people should carry it gracefully."