In the distance, the great beast rises. A tentacle flails through space, casting a rippling shadow from a distant sun.
“I know I made a mistake.”
“No. You betrayed me. Fuck you. Fuck you forever.”
I see hatred in her eyes. The kind of loathing that does not go away. I have seen this look only in the eyes of mortal enemies. What I did was unforgivable, and there is nothing I can do to change it now. What’s done is done. The damage has been inflicted. Apologies cannot change past actions.
At that point, we are both swallowed by the great maw of the temporal squid. It comes as a great relief.
LOOP THREE
CHAPTER 9
Ava
What. Is. Happening?
I have come to in a bush. I don’t remember how I got here. I don’t remember anything at all. My head is full of awareness of danger, a faint notion of having crashed. I feel as though I know, but I don’t know. Everything is turned about and messed up. When I try to remember what has happened to me, it feels as though absolutely everything that ever could happen has happened at once. That is not useful for knowing where I am, or what I am doing.
“AVA!” My name is shouted, and I am grabbed from the bush by two massive arms.
“ARRHGH!” I scream.
“I have missed you so much,” he growls, holding me close to a massive alien body.
I am confused and terrified. I push away from the beast, staring into its wild and handsome face. It seems familiar, but only in the way things in a dream sometimes feel familiar. I’m sure I’ve never seen anyone or anything like him before.
“Who are you?”
His expression falls. “You don’t remember any of it?”
“I don’t remember anything of anything right now.”
“That’s okay,” he says. “It might be better not to remember anything. Given everything.”
“You’re really vague,” I comment. And really hot, I think.
I am being saved. I’m not sure what I’m being saved from, but I have the feeling of someone narrowly avoiding something unspeakably terrible.
* * *
Zed
“You deviated from your approved space path and crashed your shuttle on this planet.” I am trying to explain everything to her in a way that makes sense. It is not easy.
“That does sound like me,” she muses.
“You were on the verge of being fucked and eaten alive by the native species, a sado-cannibalistic culture.”
Her eyes widen. “Yikes.”
“And now I’m taking you to my shuttle, and we’re going to go somewhere safe and we’ll see what you remember.”
“But I don’t know you. You look like you could hurt me.”
“I am not going to hurt you,” I vow. “Not ever again.”
“Not ever again? What does that mean…”
I carry her away, cradling her close. She has many questions, and the way I slip up from time to time referring to the present past future is not helping. She may have forgotten her entire ordeal. I hope so.
I remember everything. I remember the first time I met her, and the last. I remember a series of fractal experiences, love made dozens of times. I remember her kiss. I remember her smile. I remember her laugh.
I also remember betraying her. I remember her misery. I remember her pain. I do not forgive myself for that, though it was some other version of me, it was still me. A greedy, materialistic, stupid version that has to die. As long as he is out there in the time streams, being unable to feel his connection to Ava, valuing nothing but profit, chaos is going to keep unfolding around us.
“This is a cool ship,” she says as I make it visible and carry her inside. “Doesn’t feel like you, though.”
“I’m a trader,” I explain. “I traded this for something else.”
“Oh,” she says with a bright smile. “Hope you don’t decide to trade me!”
“Never,” I assure her, though that’s not truly honest. The answer isn’t never. The answer is at least once. But never again.
Everything is a trade for something else.
“My name is Zed,” I say, remembering that she doesn’t know my name. She has a fresh slate. A chance at happiness. This time I am going to give it to her. I am going to give her everything she deserves. It’s still selfish, but at least this time it is selfish in the right direction.
“Nice to meet you, Zed,” she smiles at me. There’s that flicker in her gaze, that little bit of need and mischief which warns me she could still be trouble.
“You and I are going to have to go and face a great evil,” I tell her. “Someone who has caused us both more harm than I can explain.” More harm than I want to explain, I of course mean.
This is an opportunity to do things right.
* * *
Ava
This alien really seems to like me. I mean, really, really seems to like me. I can see the thick outline of what I am guessing is his cock pressing against the tight lines of his lower garments.