'SEE YOU MORNING' 162 Deep Space Daily — Abridged

The snow in the round flower bed had mostly melted, revealing the dark soil and deep green arborvitae. Little Lübec ran back and forth among the bushes and around the flower bed, searching. The childhood playmates were nowhere to be seen — perhaps it was getting late and they had already gone home. Only this empty little garden remained, along with the lingering snow in the sunset glow.
When Lübec woke from the dream again and opened her eyes, the sense of loss and emptiness seemed to have faded. Perhaps she had already adapted to the solitude of deep space.
It had been who knows how long — the same routine day after day in deep space. And at some unknown point, she left. She came from deep space and returned to deep space. In the vast universe, there had been this one encounter, without reason, without clues.
Lübec’s mood had finally calmed, but those deep, dark eyes of hers in her mind still occasionally stirred a desire to explore the endless deep space — a lingering concern.
Of course, what was equally concerning were the young men and women piloting the Interceptors. One fighter from Ghost Knight Squadron had not returned as scheduled, but fortunately they all flew in two-person crews, and this had happened before.
But Shizuka flew her fighter alone. There was no knowing how she, all by herself, would handle the challenges of the deep universe. One could only silently wish her safety.
Lübec checked the mission logs for the deployment plan and execution records of the missing fighter — nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The key issue was that some of those Interceptor fighters had been deployed to spacetimes different from the mothership, and this mothership had no perception or communication capability across spacetimes. So Lübec picked up the phone to the Combat Command Center.
“This is the Captain, this is the Captain. Fighter 406 of SVF-12 Squadron is overdue from deployment. Inventory the reserve fighter resources. If the overdue period exceeds the red line, immediately dispatch two Interceptors to execute search and rescue procedures.”
“Yes, Captain. Mission loaded.”
After assigning the task, Lübec began reviewing the gravitational field disturbance data detected by the mothership during the deployment of Fighter 406, though it was limited to the mothership’s own spacetime. Before the end of the shift, Lübec convened the Combat Command and Intelligence departments to exchange data and opinions.
Some of that lost feeling would always be completely dispelled by Brittany’s smile.
The two walked into the officers’ mess. Brittany was still habitually looking around.
“You don’t need to look. She’s already gone.”
“Oh? When did she leave?”
“I don’t know either.”
“Hahaha,” Brittany laughed.
“That means you weren’t paying attention to her.”
“Yeah, no one was competing with you for a man anyway.”
“Huh? How could there not be? Lucky I made my move early.”
“Hahaha,” Lübec laughed too.
“Let’s go see what’s good to eat, my big boy,” Brittany said, pulling Lübec hard toward the food service window.
Lübec had to hold her back a bit, so this excited kid wouldn’t bump into anyone.
After getting their food, that undisturbed little corner was always their space for a long chat after the day ended.
“After all these days of deployment, some crew members aren’t adjusting well,” Brittany always liked to tell Lübec about her day after work.
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“Auditory hallucinations, visual hallucinations — they feel like someone’s always talking to them. Our psychologist is busier than our surgeon.”
“Oh, did I talk in my sleep?”
“Hehe, no. Why? Did I?”
“Didn’t hear it.”
Brittany thought for a moment and said,
“Could it be because I sleep in your room, which is closer to the interior of the ship, so I can’t hear any sounds that might be coming from the universe?”
“That analysis makes sense too,” Lübec patted her back, then gently stroked her lower back.
“Hmm, so tomorrow I should suggest making a survey form, letting those who have hallucinations describe their environment,” Brittany said, looking straight ahead, as if thinking about something.
Lübec didn’t interrupt her, just quietly watched from the side — her cheeks, her fluttering eyelashes.
People came and went in the mess hall. After dinner that day, the two didn’t go out for a walk. Both felt tired, so they went straight back to their room to rest.
After washing up, they lay in bed waiting for sleep to come. Brittany lay on her side next to Lübec, her left arm draped across his chest, and asked,
“Lübec, do you love me?”
Lübec used his left hand, which was pinned under her waist, to touch her lower back. He didn’t answer.
“Do you love Ruth?”
Lübec smiled, turned his head to look at Brittany’s smiling face by the pillow, and raised his right hand to gently brush her hair.
Seeing that Lübec wouldn’t answer, Brittany looked at him with a grin, began to wriggle her body slightly, moving downward, then squeezed her body between Lübec’s side and his left arm.
Looking at Brittany, hidden at his side, like a curious yet timid cat, showing only half her face, shoulders hunched, lying pressed against him.
From her raised shoulders down to her sliding waist, then to her raised hips and thighs, then to her hidden knee hollows and upturned calves — her figure was like a wave dancing with rhythm, crashing against his straight, dull body lines, drawing him into this vibrant dance of life.
Lübec placed both hands under Brittany’s armpits and gently pulled her back up, so she lay on his chest, facing his eyes.
Her hair hung down lightly, falling on her cheeks. The freshly cut ends still felt a bit sharp.
“I love you, Bri.”
Seeing that Brittany’s big eyes were still looking him up and down, Lübec held her cheeks with both hands, looked into her eyes, and said again,
“I love you, Bri.”
Her gaze finally stopped wandering. She pulled away his hands from her cheeks, lowered her head, and softly kissed his lips. Lübec closed his eyes.
Her lips were so gentle, her lips were so warm. She pressed against his cheek, she kissed his neck. Her hands found his arms, slid to his palms, their fingers interlocked. Her body was like a wave, surging up the embankment.
In the pounding of the tide, Lübec’s body also surged with the rhythm of the spring tide. That awakening early spring seemed to carry him back to the happy times of childhood.
The gray sky occasionally had gaps where clouds drifted past, revealing the blue sky and bright sunshine behind. The air carried a damp scent — warm, life-filled dampness, no longer the icy shackles of winter.
Little Lübec knew the harsh winter had passed, spring was coming. Stepping on the damp footprints in the snow below, looking through the gaps in the bare bushes — that was the direction spring was returning from, and also the direction she was returning from.