Stargazing

Hela sat with her father in the Cosmos Lounge on the Meteora, a mid-line, intergalactic passage transport. Due to her father’s citizenship status as a top-grade scientist, her travel with him was paid two times each year. She had been traveling with him ever since she was a little child, which now came to about thirty-seven years. They loved to sit in the lounges and look out upon the stars together. An entire transparent wall revealed the most spectacular view. At times like this, very few words were spoken. They had a deep relationship. This was their way of sharing a father-daughter moment. To Hela, however, this trip somehow seemed different.

Her father was exceptionally distant. Every once in a while, he would become like this. Senior Ares was one of Nexus-Interlocutor Inc.’s researchers on the Animus Project, which sought to tap consciously into the divine energy that permeated all existence. Ever since Ivory Tower Research proved the existence of God over two-hundred and fifty years ago, this type of research has been explored on various levels. But with the recent work of the Animus Project, it appeared as though breakthroughs may be near.

What path would the universe take if sentients were finally able to participate in the divine undercurrents of reality? What would change? What would stay the same? Answers hovered just out of reach.

Sr. Ares was an important man. Perhaps it was the pressure of his work that disturbed him on this trip. Or, perhaps it was because the Ecclesia had assigned a Shepherd.

As far as Hela knew, they had not received any word of expected complications on the trip. But a mandated ecclesiastical presence was abnormal. This rarely happened to others and had never happened to them. Despite the Shepherd’s assurances otherwise, his presence still brought a perpetual sense that trouble brewed. Always near (somewhere) he sat quietly, attentive, and armed.

A meteor shot through distant space, but Sr Ares did not seem to notice. He sat, holding drink in hand, motionless for several minutes. A news cast appeared and hung in the middle of the room. To this, too, he seemed oblivious. Hela knew that he rarely became this lost in thought. Yes, something was definitely wrong. While watching her father out of the corner of her eye, Hela continually asked herself, How much does he know?

“Father,” she said as she leaned her head in his direction. The sound did not move him. His eyes continued to stare blankly into space.

Hela reached out her hand to touch his. Sr. Ares lowered his head to look at her hand. His eyes traveled up her arm until his gaze locked with hers. The expression in his eyes signaled exhaustion and despair. He had this look when he was depressed. Something definitely burdened him in the silence.

“Father,” she said, “what is wrong?”

He turned his eyes back to the stars. “Nothing is wrong, dear.”

Hela too turned her gaze to the stars, with an added air of dignity. “You are lying,” she said coldly.