It had all gone so smoothly. She knew it had been too easy. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had known that happiness was not for her. It never had been. Hers was the solitary path, the lonely, isolated path, depending on no one, needing no one. For a little while, she'd forgotten that; had hoped for something more. But it had been a mirage her thirsty heart had created; it had never been real.
She stood in the alien light of the Portal as the last of their Targets passed through into their new home, watching the two swinging doors into the kitchen as if they held her salvation.
‘Pia.’ Jac said her name from close behind her. His voice was sad and serious. She knew he was going to tell her that she must come now or be left behind. And she knew she must do as he said, because to stay meant death.
Was she ready to die? She had lived so very long. Maybe it was time to die. New Atlantis held no joy for her any more.
‘Are you coming, Pia?’ Jac asked.
She shook her head without looking at him. For a moment, she heard nothing, as if he was thinking what to do next. Then he reached around her and thrust a PA into her hands.
‘If he comes back with the boy, bring them both through. If he doesn’t, come home, Pia. You have people who love you and will miss you. If he doesn’t come, he isn’t worth it.’
She found it vaguely interesting that Jac had slipped into the informal language of his mate in that moment. He only did that when Cara was around. What would make him drop his formal persona now? Not for her surely. To him, she was just one of his team. He had never spoken a casual word to her in all the time she had known him. This informality was kept for Cara alone.
She held the inactive PA in her hands. This, then, was not the one that had activated the Portal behind her. One of the others must have given him theirs. For her? Yes, for her. They were all worried about her and wanted her to have a choice; wanted her to come home. The realisation was like sunshine breaking through heavy cloud for a brief time.
She turned and smiled up at Jac, so far above her. ‘Thank you. I will wait. I might come. There is time yet.’
‘He may not be able to get back up here. Remember what the stewards will do to the restaurant staff. If he doesn’t get back it may not be because he doesn’t want to. He left you because he had a duty to that boy not because he didn’t love you. It's what we're like, us men.’ Jac gave a humourless grunt. 'It doesn't mean we love you any less.'
Pia saw him for the first time. Not the austere giant who had always daunted her, but the caring, conflicted man, ever caught between duty and love. What must it be like to walk that knife edge, weighing the good of the many against his personal wants or needs?
‘I know.’ She turned away from him then, not wanting to feel empathy for him. Not wanting to feel anything at all. Her eyes were riveted to the door once more. ‘You better go, Jac. The Portal has been open a long time. Cara will be anxious. If… if I do not get back, tell the others I love them. You are all like family to me, especially after these last few days.’
‘I will tell them. Please don’t wait too long…’
She heard him walk away and as suddenly as the light had appeared it was gone, and so was the buzzing that accompanied it.
For a split second, she felt the overwhelming terror of being left alone again. Her people gone, four hundred years and more into the future, and she was here, alone.
The terror gave way to acceptance and she sat down on a nearby chair and fiddled with the PA. Would it be found amongst the wreckage in the 1980s? Would they wonder about it? No, there was no record of such a gadget being found. It probably ended up buried somewhere away from the wreck. She knew her body would have dissolved long before the submarines came to explore the depths of the icy Atlantic for the legendary Ship of Dreams.
And that's all they were – just dreams, for her and for all those who would not survive this night. She felt the tears trickling down her burning cheeks but made no move to brush them away. What was the point? There was no one here to see her.