return to dust, part 3

October 2086. Zach Harris is 8, Nathan Lind is 36, Keri Riley is 25, Dominique Beech is 27, Samir Peroit is 31, Amaya Hadley is 8. 


"Can we stay out a little longer? Can we please, Uncle Nate?"

How do you say no to that face? Zach looked up to Nathan with the kind of ravenous hope in his eyes that suggested he hadn't had any fun in precisely one year and fourteen days, which was likely true. Night was Nathan's favorite time in the city, too, when everything became so vibrant and exciting. So he said yes.

"What do you wanna do? See the street performers? Buy some sparklers?"

In the end, they decided to do it all.

"Did everyone have the best time ever?"

"Yeah!" the children all agreed.

"Gotta get back now," Nathan said. "We have an early morning tomorrow."


Nathan and Ally grabbed some takeout from the hotel kitchen on the way back up to their room.

They wouldn't be in California for very much longer. In the morning, they would attend the memorial ceremony with Aurora, and then they had to get back to their lives in Copper Hill. Nathan would have liked to be a better support to his sister, especially since he promised Joel that he would look after them when he was gone. Now they lived half a country away from each other—her move, not his. Maybe that absolved him from the promise? But he did wish they could visit more often.

***

Keri and Dominique also arrived in California on the evening before the ceremony. Keri looked forward to seeing her father's newest property, the Riley Sky Suites, which touted its classy lounge and full-service spa resort twenty floors above the city.


Keri’s father liked to sit at the piano of his own resort, wearing one of his budget-priced suits, pretending to be just some random hired pianist like he didn’t own this entire resort and a wealth of other properties. Like he was just another musician for hire. Bryson was absolutely that kind of millionaire who wouldn't spend any money on clothing. "You and your mother spend enough on clothing as it is," he would say.

Keri didn’t give his secrets away. It seemed like a fun game to pretend to live a different life for a minute. She wouldn't know music one way or another, but it sounded pretty good to her and he could have been a pro.


She suspected he also enjoyed having the pretty seniors swoon over his talents.


They were here for work, not to party, but Keri joined Dominique down in the hotel lounge for a drink that evening, having nothing better to do. Although, Dominique ditched Keri soon after because she'd already invited out a friend.


Samir was stationed with them at the Lunar Colony during the war, but after, when given the opportunity to take his leave, he decided to go and open a restaurant in Sierra Nova. He'd always harbored a secret love for cooking; they were all very well fed during their time away on the moon.


So he and Dominique caught up over drinks, complaining mostly about their failed love lives.

Dominique always thought that if she were the type to settle down and make a family with anyone, she would have wanted it to be with Samir. But she knew she wasn't that type of woman. What her ex said about her was true; she loathed children and she never intended to have any. But Samir would make a wonderful father some day, so she wished lots of kids for him. Still, Samir was precious to her. Samir was gold. He deserved better than everything. Better than what Dominique had to offer him, anyway.

He lamented sometimes that he wasn't very charming or noticeable and that he'd never find someone. Dominique suspected that he held a candle for her still, but she didn't want to lead him on. She was going to Cassiopeia with Keri in a couple of years.


Keri butt in to say hello, overhearing Dominique's liquor-induced pep talks to her old friend and feeling herself in the mood to share in the complaints. It seemed she butt in at an awkward time, though, and they just stared at her quietly and didn't invite her to join them. So Keri just congratulated Samir on the new restaurant and wished him well.


Keri had gotten to the point where she didn’t text Justin anymore at this desperate time of night when everyone reached out to their favorite person. Justin deserved better than what she had to offer, too, and she was glad he had that now. She didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t glad. But there was always this time of night when Keri felt lonely, knowing with such certainty that she was nobody’s favorite person.


She texted a picture of the city skyline to Tyler.

View from my dad’s new place. Jealous?

They’d been dating for a few months now, and Keri noticed that she and Tyler never fell into that passionate, inseparable, bleeding-heart honeymoon phase that most couples do in the beginning. Wasn't that the best part? That part where you can't get enough of each other? But she and Tyler weren't like that, and it seemed like they never would be.

Tyler never texted her back right away. He probably would by morning—he wasn’t rude—but it would take him that long. Like she was an afterthought in his life. Something to do when there was nothing else to do.

Keri looked down on the city from up so high like she used to look down on the earth from the observation deck on the moon, so far away that no one could ever reach her.


Then she took herself up to her room, had a shower, and turned in early. They had a big day ahead of them in the morning.

***

When they arrived at the newly dedicated Reclamation Memorial Park, Zach saw the new statue and thought that it looked small. 

"How big did you think it should be?" his mother asked.

"At least as big as a skyscraper," he said, which made his mother chuckle. But this statue was barely as tall as the trees.


"It doesn't have a face," he said. "I thought it would look like him."

"No, it’s not supposed to be him. Did you want it to look like him?"

"I don't know."

"This way is better," she said. "He is unique in the universe and he'll always be."

Zach had spent the morning unsure of whether today should feel happy or sad. It wasn't a funeral, his mother explained. But it wasn't a party, either. He had to wear the stiff dress shoes that he hated and a shirt with a collar. There might be cake.

"Are we allowed to play here?"

"Sorry, it's not that kind of park," she said. "I don't think there will be anything to play on."

The families filed into the amphitheater for the ceremony to start.


"One year ago, we reclaimed our planet. Today we gather in celebration of that victory and in remembrance of the great sacrifice your loved ones made for humanity, for history, and for the future of planet Earth. ..."

Zach wasn't listening to the speech. He liked the lanterns hanging from the trees and he wondered where the cake would be. He glanced around the faces in the rows. Some cried silent tears, some nodded solemnly, some of the babies fussed and nobody minded them. Nobody smiled, either. 

When the speech was over, Zach met another little girl who looked sad.

"My dad died in space," he offered.

"My mom did, too," the girl said.

"Do you wanna play?"

Her name was Amaya and she lived in South Carolina. This was her first time visiting California, and Zach figured that nobody would mind if they played, just a little, even if today wasn't meant to be a party.

But, after the speech was over, it did start to feel like more of a party. They found the cake, and some people started to smile and laugh. The grownups found the bar drinks. He and Amaya found something to play on.

—