I touched the small crusts at the back of my neck, where her nails had punctured me, where she had clasped me. She still did.
The transfer came, and my pallet was shifted into the shuttle's cargo bay. Delta wings folded back, the shuttle entered the upper atmosphere somewhere over Hawaii. White ash from the tear-off thermal shielding flew past the viewport amid coruscations of red fire. Thin air played high-pitched cacophonies on the hull.
I loved her; I told her that. And I said, "You're not a monster; don't ever think it. Do what you must."
Leaving her with a platitude . . I didn't tell her that nature abhors a vacuum, that everywhere she wasn't, was full of pain.
Flash of white light in the mind's eye, picture of a door opening, of something astonishing, its shape unclear, passing through. "Evolutionary emergence," Doctor Chin had said, but I doubted he would find it. He wasn't looking in the right places.
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