He brought the cups over and handed one to me.
I drank half before I even really felt it on my tongue.
I peered over at him as I drank.
He returned the glance.
We both pulled our eyes away and focused on the ornate room.
There was plenty of artwork on the walls, carvings, and statues dotted at regular intervals, but I took in none of it.
Instead, my mind returned to the machines the Surgeon was prepping and the procedure we were about to undergo.
There were so many things I wanted to say to Vai, so many things that tumbled like overturned kids’ toys in my mind.
So much to say…
And I couldn’t give voice to any of them.
Finally, a thought elbowed the others out of the way.
“The Surgeon seems to know what he’s doing,” I said.
Vai nodded.
“He’s the best at what he does.”
We sat in silence again.
I sipped on my water without really swallowing it.
“You must be looking forward to getting home—” Vai said at the same time I said:
“You must be looking forward to seeing your dad—”
We shared a nervous smile.
“You go first,” he said.
“I said, you must be looking forward to seeing your family again.”
“Some. How about you?”
“A little.”
I was surprised I wasn’t more excited about returning home.
After all, wasn’t that what all this had been in aid of?
To get back to my normal life, my normal job, my normal friends, and everything that entailed.
But the idea of going to work in a lab now, wearing my perfectly starched coat, goggles, and mixing chemicals one experiment after another suddenly seemed so…
Dull.
Not that I had developed the desire to have my life threatened with every breath I took.
Still, I wondered if my life would change for the better once I returned.
Would I make an effort to do more exciting things?
Maybe.
Most likely, I would slip back into my usual routine.
I would think back on these moments when entire lifetimes had been lived in a mere few days.
And Vai.
I would think about him most of all.
Him with his shining golden eyes and those twisted black horns that had the texture of ancient and gnarled tree boughs.
I wanted to touch them.
They’d intrigued me since the very first moment I saw them.
Well, okay, they shocked me the very first time I saw them, but they were still beautiful.
Without realizing what I was doing, my hand reached up toward them.
I hesitated when I noticed him looking at me.
“Can I touch them?” I said.
His response was immediate.
He lowered his head so I could better access them.
I ran my hand over them.
They were craggy and rough but smooth along the inner ridges.
The tips weren’t as sharp as I had thought they would be.
Vai shut his eyes and snorted—with pleasure, I thought.
I ran my hands the full length of his horns.
At their base, nestled in the thick tuft of his hair, I felt small nodules where the horns had grown from his head.
I wondered if children of his species had smaller horns that grew and became more majestic with age.
I wondered if the grooves meant anything, if they represented age or strength or health the same way the rings of a tree did back home.
The moment the Procedure was over, we would likely never see each other again.
And that thought made me sadder than I thought it would.
Not seeing his face or his horns or his golden eyes.
Contained within this broad room with corridors filtering off into a dozen different directions, should have felt anything but intimate.
But it did.
I sensed the space between us grow thicker, denser.
I kept one hand on his halo of horns and placed my other hand on his cheek.
He placed one of his huge hands on my knee.
When he opened his eyes, his gleaming golden irises stole the breath from my chest.
We drifted closer, our lips coming within inches, so close I could practically taste him.
His breath was hot and heavy as it angled toward my mouth.
My tongue involuntarily moistened my lips that had grown dry and chapped.
His red lips took up my entire vision and I could see nothing but him.
We drifted closer…
“Vai? Emma?”
Dammit!
We just needed an extra few seconds…
A portly nurse with ears at uneven heights on either side of her head smiled politely at us.
“The Surgeon is ready for you now.”
We shared a disappointed smile, the moment splintering between us.
But I could see the question on his face, the same one plastered over my tongue:
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
Neither of us gave it voice.
Vai stood first and took my hand.
He led us out of the waiting room and down the corridor to the operating room.
Butterflies danced in my stomach.
Not all of them were playing nice.
The machine looked simple enough.
On either side of it was a pod big enough to hold creatures larger even than Vai.
They were connected by a thick bundle of cables to a desk where the Surgeon sat.
It was festooned with monitors displaying graphs and charts and blinking lights.
It gave me a headache just looking at it.
Between the two pods, peeping out from a slit in the ceiling, was the base of what looked to be a chain bond fence.
“Please take a pod on either side of the machine,” the Surgeon said.
I shared a look with Vai.
As we drifted apart, our hands slipped from each other, our fingers gripping on as if some internal instinct was telling us not to let go and to hold on tight.
I stepped up before the pod’s entrance.
“Please enter your pod,” the Surgeon said.
We shared a fleeting look that telegraphed sadness and desperation.
Then we stepped inside our pods.
The door whirred as it thumped into place.
Through a window, I made out Vai in his own pod.
The Perspex-like glass was bent and warped.
I realized with dawning horror that it must have been caused by someone banging on it from the inside.
Vai placed a hand on the glass.
Although I couldn’t see his expression clearly, I could picture his sadness.
It reflected my fear.
There was a loud rattling
