Valerian and the secret of the Star Child

Chapter 1: The Sonata of Passing

The days passed by in a blur of slow motion and tears. Laureline couldn't have told you what the date was even if she'd had a calendar in front of her. Her life had turned into one big hazy ball of confusion and hurt.

She'd been relieved of active duty for now, she could barely function at the bare minimum to ensure her own survival let alone performing anything work related. The new General understood this and advised that she take as long as she needs to get herself back together.

It was with stark reluctance that she attended the funeral. She'd been forced to go with the General who hadn't taken no for an answer. He'd prattled off some excuse about getting closure and regretting a missed opportunity to say goodbye, or some such drivel. She hadn't paid close attention to his well-meaning-but-also-heart-wrenching words. The only 'closure' she wanted to get was a few hours alone with the insane doctor who'd caused all of her suffering in a locked room and a 'do-not-disturb-even-if-you-hear-screaming' sign on the door. However, her obligation to her... she faltered, 'fallen' partner was too great a responsibility to ignore, and so it was with a great deal of effort that she forced herself to walk up to the Chapel pod doorway that housed the religious sanctuary that was attached to the military base on Alpha.

Over the many years that had apparently passed, one thing had mostly resembled the same; religion. The Human Military had a majority belief in Christianity which had somehow survived the Space-Age Revolution. That is to say it wasn't without some modifications; for instance, hallowed earth and cemeteries were no longer in use in the Space station for obvious reasons. And stone built ornate gothic churches were a little difficult to build without the right resources or infrastructure to support the weight, even with gravity being as flexible as it was in Alpha. Many things within the religious architect had evolved, more specifically the context of many bible verses and the idea of heaven being a city in the clouds and hell being an underground cavern of fire. Now-a-days, these were no longer taken as a literal meaning but more of a metaphorical belief. Some even speculated that the heaven and hell depictions were housed in a different dimension rather than a manifestation in this reality. It was theorised that if one did not sin or if they repented any sins they had enacted, they wouldn't die and go to heaven. Instead, they'd simply be pulled into the heaven dimension where their physical body was reset to that of its optimal function. The same with hell, except your worst sins were reflected upon your body and no relief was offered.

There were many varied evolutions of Christ's story now, but the fact remained that Christianity had not withered with the new age. Even with the changes, it was a strong religious belief that gave strength to many convictions of peace and kindness. Excluding of course the radical extremists of the ancient past – which could be said of most earth-based religions.

It was an odd sensation for Laureline. Having been plucked from the past, it was strange for her to witness the changes. In her birth time period, Christianity had only been around for a relatively short time (taking in to calculation how far into the future she'd travelled, that is). The teachings were fairly new and primitive in her village and it was strange having to now witness the evolution it had become. Having said that, Laureline was more of a pagan, a religion that had scarcely made it to the history books of this era's schooling curriculum. Few were even aware it had ever existed and often found it curious when she did something out of character for the time period she'd found herself in. She couldn't help it, it was automatic for her. For example, the throwing of spilt salt over ones left shoulder, or sweeping gestures to ward off unwanted attention or negative emotions.

She didn't consider herself overly religious but standing before the chapel bay doors she wished she had been more astute, for none of her practiced or familiar odes of prayer or blessing could ward off the sense of utter loss and isolation that had enshrouded her like an old deceitful friend. Her legs were shaking, her heartbeat deafened her to the general cadence of murmured condolences and sorrows, and the world grew foggier by the minute.