Ablation ✔️

4 - Years Apart

"It's more than disconcertment, Talia." Milton's bespectacled image froze in momentary lag, pixelating, buffering, then jumping into motion again. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes. It's a little better."

"How many economies did we pour into this ship, and it has crappier reception than our cabin?"

"Well, it wasn't really built for video conferencing, dear, as I've already said."

Milton nodded, and looked away, returning to his usual distraction – cleaning his glasses. "I know. Not much use for that feature after today."

"No, not much," Talia nodded. She paused watching her husband clean his glasses for the last time. There was something familiar and comforting in it, yet deeply disheartening. Soon they would lose each other to time, and yet he couldn't even look at her. "Keep that up and you're going to scratch your lenses, Milton."

Milton stopped and turned a hesitant gaze to the camera. He bit at his lip, then cast his eyes about distractedly. They had talked nearly every day that Talia had been on Unity, and he knew every detail of the voyage ahead already. The final crew had boarded a week prior, necessary introductions had been made between the heads of each colonist group, and all systems had been prepped, checked, and rechecked. The final return capsules had departed and the ship's engines had started, a slow, steady acceleration building that would one day carry his wife to a distant star: her new home.

Talia drummed her fingers against the console, at the same loss as her husband. Everything to be said had been said; the same sentiments shared on a daily basis and even even recorded nearly 450 times in a litany of pre-recorded messages. There reached a point when all the tears had already flowed and all that remained was to move forward, no matter the pain that waited on that path.

"All our years and it comes to this," Talia started, breaking from her thoughts and vanquishing the silence. "This loss of words," she continued. "I don't even know what to say."

"I know." Milton leaned back letting out a deep sigh. "I don't think I can take another goodbye right now." He signaled air quotes as he said goodbye. "Not one more of those conversations."

"Then let's not. It's just another day. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So Bernard's doing well?"

"So, so. He misses you of course." They both paused, hitting a road bump before the illusion even had a chance to take hold.

"Yeah. I miss him, too." Talia swallowed back the lump in her throat. The last capsule had returned she reminded herself. There could be no turning back. "Otherwise?"

"We played hide-and-seek this morning. He keeps hiding behind the coat rack. Every time."

"As always."

"Yeah. I don't think he quite grasps the finer points of the game, yet."

"Of course he does. You just don't understand his rules."

"Well, there is that." Milton plowed forward, picking up steam. "Then we read some books. I started him on Where the Sidewalk Ends. I think he likes the rhythm of it, but he's –"

"–Don't say missing the finer points," Talia interrupted.

Milton stopped, breaking stride, then pulled off a weak recovery.