Saturn's orbit 'SEE YOU MORNING' 095 A New Starting Point

Two months after reversing his aging, Lübeck felt his body had recovered enough to handle routine duties. Yet his conscience remained unsettled over the cold dismissal of Brittany, who had cared for him all this time—as if he could accept no woman other than Ruth.
On his desk lay a roster and photographs, presented for him to select his companion for the Saturn Orbital Mission. The mission duration was too long; all crew members were required to be in established partnerships, and changing partners mid-mission was strictly forbidden.
The roster had sat on his desk for two days. Lübeck doubted he could find Ruth within its pages. Ring-ring-ring. The telephone jolted the silence. He picked up—another call urging him to choose a partner. This place was bizarre: telephones from the 1960s, computers from the early 2000s, desks and chairs cheap Chinese knockoffs from the 1990s. A hodgepodge project, much like its personnel—NATO members, dominated, naturally, by Americans.
Lübeck opened the roster. The first woman was a pilot: dark eyes and hair, fair skin, mature and steady—seemingly Hispanic. The second was also a pilot: blonde, with finer eyebrows and eyes, mild-featured—an ordinary Celt. The third was a Marine: light brown hair, broad forehead, deep-set eyes, her face cold and hard. The fourth was a biologist: brown hair, high forehead—she looked sharp. The fifth was an MP: tall, thin, high cheekbones, gaunt features—she seemed ruthless. The sixth appeared to be second-generation African-American, a mechanic. The seventh looked Latina but lacked any feminine softness, more like a man—a cook. The eighth… was actually a man.
His search for Ruth had turned into a gay apocalypse. Lübeck snatched up the phone, fuming.
“Male homosexuals are not permitted on my ship. Remove all male crew with problematic sexual orientation and assign them elsewhere.”
“But sir, that violates gender equality regulations—”
“I don’t want them bleeding all over my decks. Execute the order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why isn’t Lieutenant Brittany on the list you sent?”
“Captain, she has already been reassigned to another unit.”
“I see. Very well.”
Though he said nothing more, a quiet, unspoken hollowness settled in Lübeck’s chest. With restless thoughts clouding his mind, he began packing his meager personal belongings, preparing to evacuate this medical facility.
His new post was captain of an aerospace carrier: CSNL-30 San Jacinto—a light orbital carrier equipped with anti-gravity engines but incapable of interstellar travel. It was designed solely for gravity-assisted orbital transit between planets within the solar system, serving as a relay and resupply hub for fighter craft on mission deployment.
He took the rail transit to his carrier’s station, settled into his quarters, then visited various offices to familiarize himself with the senior officers he would soon work alongside. They shared lunch together, exchanging the usual polished pleasantries. Lübeck loathed such social rituals, yet saw no better way to build the necessary rapport for future operations.
After a perfunctory lunch, he stepped out of the officers’ mess hall. Just as he turned to leave and head back to his room, he caught sight of a familiar silhouette lingering by the observation window in the outer corridor.
Lübeck could hardly believe his eyes. His legs seemed to move with a will of their own, carrying him step by step toward that figure—until he stood directly behind her.
As she turned around mid-pace, he saw her clearly: Brittany.
“Oh! What a coincidence, Captain Lübeck,” she stammered, startled—surprise and delight flickering across her face. Her gaze met his eyes briefly, then darted away. Her hair swung widely with the motion of her turn; her arms twitched as if to gesture, then stilled, pulling at her shoulders.
“Lieutenant Brittany. We meet again,” Lübeck said, extending his hand.
“Ah, yes,” Brittany replied, reaching out to take it. She glanced up at him, then quickly lowered her head, unsure what to say next. When she tried to withdraw her hand, she realized he had no intention of letting go.
She slowly lifted her gaze back to his, parting her lips as if to speak, yet words failed her.
“What are you doing here?” Lübeck asked first, stepping closer, his grip never loosening.
“Ah, I…” Brittany brushed aside the hair covering half her face with her free hand, tilting her head up. “I thought… perhaps… I might run into you here.” Her eyes shimmered with timidity and shyness. Then she looked down again.
“Do you come here often?”
“Ah, yes.”
“What about your lunch break?”
“Ah, it’s fine. I’m on a diet.”
Hearing this, Lübeck’s heart tightened with pity. She had sacrificed her own lunchtime, coming here just for a chance to find him. Softly, he asked,
“May I invite you to join me for a simple lunch today?”
“Mm. Alright.”
Before she could finish, Lübeck took her hand and led the way, his left hand resting gently against the small of her back as they walked back toward the mess hall. He only released her hand when he held the door open for her. This time, Lübeck stayed beside her throughout the entire meal service, never sitting across from her as before, but right at her side—his left arm draped around her waist, remaining there as he quietly kept her company until she finished eating.
When they walked out of the mess hall side by side, Brittany stopped and turned to face Lübeck, looking into his eyes.
“I have to—”
“Come with me,” Lübeck interrupted.
“You’re being transferred to my unit immediately. You’re a medic. There’s a machine waiting for you that won’t stop smoking until you fix it.”
Brittany laughed—not saying a word, simply smiling up at him.
Lübeck drew her into his embrace. In his mind, every day of the past month replayed—her quiet, devoted care for him.
The bustling flow of people in the corridor moved soundlessly around them. The two figures locked in an embrace seemed to exist in a world entirely their own—peaceful, serene, untouched by the constant turmoil and unrest of life. At last, wandering souls ceased to drift; they had found their harbor, their mooring.
Of course, there were always busybodies. Among the passing crowd, some stopped to stare. Gradually, whispers began to rise. Who is she? Who is that with the captain?
Someone took photos, instantly messaging friends to speculate. It happened to be lunch recess; rumors flew faster than bullets. More and more people chased the gossip to the scene.
“The captain’s fallen for the medic!”
“Oh, she’s walked straight into his heart.”
“Is it one of those once-in-a-lifetime kinds of love?”
“Ha! We’re all just passing through—they’ve already reached the shore.”
Only then did Lübeck and Brittany awaken from their private world. Smiling, they glanced around at the gathering crowd, then found themselves reflected in each other’s eyes.
From the outer edge of the crowd, someone recognized Lübeck but couldn’t push through. They shouted from the periphery,
“Hey, Lübeck! Lübeck’s in love with the medic! Who is she?!”
Lübeck turned, addressing the onlookers:
“She is my life,” he declared, gazing at Brittany with unmistakable tenderness.
A roar of laughter erupted from the crowd.
“Kiss her!”
“Yeah! Kiss her already!”
“That’s right—don’t just stand there!”
“Do it!”
“Go on, kiss her, hahaha—”
…