Chapter Six

Much to Viktoriya’s disappointment, all the snow from a couple of weeks ago had melted away. All that remained of the summer snowman she’d built was a pile of slush on the side of the walkway. But still, that white-gray mound still held the memory of how much fun she had building it.

Why must these feelings end? Why does everything eventually fade away? Where will my memories be… once I die?

Trying desperately to ignore the conference call that her mom was on, she stared out the car window and quietly counted the trees lining the country road. There wasn’t a single trace of the uncharacteristic snow that had piled three feet high.

“One hundred and seventeen.”

“Vik, the foremost tree is not actually a tree; it is a legacy telephone pole.”

“So, Noxxor, you’re telling me it wasn’t made from a tree?”

“I stand corrected, Vik. One hundred and seventeen.”

She recounted the day in her head.

She always loved going into the city, whether it was to visit Dr. Maribelle or otherwise. The doctor asked for another session with Viktoriya to ensure she was doing okay and felt better since her meeting yesterday.

She was more than happy to return to Washington D.C. for any reason, and her mom was glad to accompany her for their session this time.

It was much more interesting than the small town she lived in, and she would take any chance she had to visit.

Viktoriya and her mom had spent the day outside, enjoying the warmth of the sun. And while she missed the snow, she couldn’t deny that the warm, coziness kissing her cheeks had been a delightful feeling.

They were hopping from museum to museum, meeting up with mom’s colleagues before the appointment.

She enjoyed going to the Smithsonian Institution, and while her mom chatted with folks from work, Viktoriya had free rein of the exhibits. Her mom had ordered something that had arrived at the National Air and Space Museum—Viktoriya’s absolute favorite place in D.C.

While her mom picked up her new tools and some new magnets for her to play with, Viktoriya stepped over to the Mars Colony showcase. The showcase was much smaller than before to make space for the new TITAN installation, which disappointed her a bit.

“Wow, they have really cleared out most of the scene here, huh?” a man in a gray trench coat said, looking over the diorama.

“Yes. It was my parents’ display. They were the inventors. That’s my mom there, at the counter.”

“That’s amazing! And there are the names, Kuzland. Is that your name also?”

She loved seeing her parents’ names on the Mars expedition. Viktoriya knew the stories of their adventures very well, reliving them many times in vivid conversations from both her parents, but seeing it on display in the museum was different. It became real.

“Yes, I’m Viktoriya. Viktoriya Kuzland. Now their names are on the TITA—Oh, she’s done there, I have to go! Bye!”

“Bye, Viktoriya Kuzland!”

What was that surrounding that man? He had a—an aura of green or something. Like a cloud.

As mother and daughter returned home, Viktoriya looked across the car at her mom, still on the phone, deep in conversation. She had developed the sustainable rocket fuel that ended up propelling them to Mars much faster, and her dad built the portable nuclear energy fuel cell so that the colonists could survive on Mars with unlimited and renewable energy.

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Now, there was barely mention of the colonists at all on the Mars project. Viktoriya shook her head, trying to wrangle in her frustration. It wasn’t really fair, was it? All that work—they were the very reason why the world got to Mars—and their names were all but erased from memory.

Her dad had spent over two years experimenting, splicing the quantum nuclear sub-elements together in a novel way. By influencing single radical electron orbital paths, sharing the space between molecules, and integrating orbits of otherwise unrelated nuclear electrons, he created an entirely new type of nuclear power.

She fiddled with the new magnets in her palm. They were soothing to hold, and the tension building in her shoulders melted away. The way they pulled each other in and then pushed each other out distracted her mind. The new ones were much stronger than her other magnets, even though they were substantially smaller.

At the museum earlier, she also had the chance to explore the TITAN exhibition. It was much larger than the Mars showcase and definitely had her parents’ names everywhere, not just in one place.

She just didn’t quite understand that project as much. They had put TITAN—the great, gigantic machine that orbited Earth—into the upper atmosphere to cool the planet.

She wasn’t sure why it required cooling, but she knew TITAN was definitely doing its job since it had snowed in August.

Her mom’s tone snapped Viktoriya out of her reflection. She glimpsed her mother, pressing her fingers to her forehead and flailing her hand in the air in front of her face, as if she was explaining with her hands.

“You see, that’s the problem, Ed,” said her mom into the phone. “It works too well.”

Her mom looked at her and gave her a faint smile, but she stared back and raised an eyebrow, unable to read the emotion on her mom’s face. While she was smiling, she certainly didn’t seem happy. Her smile hadn’t touched her eyes.

“Look,” said Dr. Maribelle. “See that man’s eyes in this movie scene. He’s smiling, and it is in his eyes, but he’s about to set a bomb off and blow up the walkway bridge.”

She recalled her afternoon appointment with Dr. Maribelle, their reason for the trip to D.C. That day’s visit was once again more frustrating than it had been in the past.

They did their face cards. Again.

Viktoria scoffed. She tired of doing the faces every session. It was so repetitive.

A pang of guilt rang in her gut.

She sighed. Perhaps, if she were entirely honest, she would admit that a part of her—a small part—disliked practicing faces and the Understanding Emotions flashcards because she felt she was not great at it and wasn’t improving at all. And not improving frustrated her. Perhaps that was why Dr. Maribelle was placing more focus on the routine.

So, he’s smiling, but he’s not happy, because he’s up to something mischievous? Whatever, I give up.

She flipped the magnets in her hands again and stared out the window at the trees. The repetitiveness of them passing by with the sunlight flickering through the gaps sucked her in and soothed her unease. The trees zoomed by in blurs as the driverless car whipped down the highway.

“Look,” her mom said, “the data is clear—TITAN did more than its intended job. We didn’t just stabilize Earth’s temperatures; we have decreased the total mass; gravity is letting us go! We’re slipping off trajectory. We’ve reversed—”

She tuned out her mother’s high-pitched voice and focused on the passing blurs. The deep emerald of the evergreens slowly merged into one moving blur.

Time drifted away, and she couldn’t be sure if she had spent minutes or hours staring out the window.

The emerald faded to black. She sat up straight—suddenly, there was nothing outside except for an empty, cold void.

Her chest tightened as if a weight had materialized upon her, and her breathing became more difficult and faster. She turned to her mom, only to find that she had disappeared as well.

Sucked into this void of darkness.

Nothingness.

A flash of brilliant white suddenly flooded her field of vision and hurt her eyes.

Her entire body trembled.

“Viktoriya!” her mom shouted.

She blinked, only to find they were still in the car. Her mom had her hands gripped around her shoulders.

“Darling, are you all right?” she asked. Her mom’s sparkling blue eyes shined in the light and her brow furrowed softly. She knew that expression—her mom showed the very concerned emotion. She knew that face very well, having seen her mother wear it so often.

“Did… Didn’t you see it?” she asked, shifting out of her mother’s grasp.

Her mom returned to her seat, re-clicking her buckle in for safety. The worried expression did not fade from her face. “See what, darling? I’ve been trying to talk to you for nearly five minutes now.”

“Five minutes?” she asked. Was that how long she was in the dark void? It had felt like no time and an eternity all at once.

Her mother nodded.

“And you didn’t see it? The bright flash?”

“Hun,” her mom began and reached over, placing a soft hand on her knee. “There was no flash. I saw nothing.”

“Vik, are you sure that you are okay?”