Star crossed lovers

Elara’s cryopod lid cracked open with a hiss of escaping gases. She drew in a sharp breath as consciousness flooded back into her slowly thawing body. How long had she been suspended this time? The blinking lights of the pod and hissing hydraulics lifting her to a sitting position were the only indicators she hadn’t dreamed the past two years of travel. The iceveins hadn’t kicked in yet, but she knew they were coming.

“Good morning, Dr. Mireille,” the AI’s soothing voice echoed over the med bay intercom. “We are approximately two months from the Zeta Reticuli system travelling at 0.8c. Deceleration protocols were initiated in six weeks ago.”

Elara nodded weakly, still working circulation back into stiff limbs as she sat up in the the pod. Later she walked down the dim corridor of the automated craft, the other human occupants still in cryosleep, oceans of darkness and stars framed in the passing portholes.

The journey from Earth had stretched nearly four years in relativistic time. She had slept through most it, the AI and homeostatic pod functions keeping her alive. How many years back on Earth, 24? Now she was mere weeks from her extended mission’s destination.

As Elara stepped onto the small bridge, she noted the Doppler blueshifted stars ahead now shone pinprick steady beyond the main viewport. She settled into the command chair and activated the quantum communicator. Crackling bands of static snapped into focus, then eerie silence filled the cabin.

Her heart sank. Three years of travel had already accumulated. Only a few more and back home anyone still there would be confronting relativistic gulfs measuring lifetimes. Would Julien even…?

A sudden burst of static made her jump. Then a beloved voice, slightly worn, but brimming with joy sang out: “Elara! Is that you, my love?”

Elara’s heart swelled at the sound of Julien’s voice. “Yes, it’s me! I just came out of cryosleep and we are decelerating towards the Zeta Reticuli system.”

She took a moment to study Julien’s features on the display. He was older of course, lines etched into his face that spoke of decades gone by for him since her departure. But his eyes still held that mischievous glint which first drew her in during university physics seminars a lifetime ago.

“I’ve missed you so much, Julien,” Elara said, tears pricking unexpectedly. ” Tell me everything that’s happened while I slept.”

Julien launched into recounting all she had missed. He was now Professor of Quantum Engineering at the Sorbonne Institute of Technology. Their old circle of friends had gotten married, started families, some even now grandparents. Paris itself had grown into a glittering panoply of sights and sounds, culture flourishing despite and because of climate change policies.

Elara closed her eyes, picturing herself strolling hand-in-hand with Julien along the Left Bank, gazing up at ornate apartment facades while savouring fresh croissants from a corner patisserie. The sensory memories stood in bittersweet contrast to the cold utilitarian bridge where she now sat alone.

“But enough about old times past!” Julien suddenly exclaimed. “Tell me everything about the journey so far. What wonders have you witnessed?”

Elara opened her eyes and for hours related her experiences being revived at various checkpoints to review telemetry and confirm their course. The one glimpse of a magnetar whirling at near light-speed, dragging space itself around its cosmic waltz. Skimming the outskirts of a nursery nebula still aglow with the sparks of new star formation set against endless night. She tried conveying the ineffable sense of smallness yet belonging as they traversed just one galactic arm among billions in their lonely island amid the great cosmic ocean.

Elara studied Julien closely on the flickering display. “And what about you, my love? You look tired. Is the Sorbonne running you ragged?” She attempted to keep her tone light despite her feelings.

Julien waved his hand. “Oh they keep me busy enough. But I’ve been prioritising staying healthy so I will still be here when you return.” He patted a wheeled oxygen tank by his side. “I’m not as spry as I used to be, but thanks to some medical advances, I aim to celebrate your homecoming thirty years from now with champagne atop the new Paris arcology!”

Ah I see, my mistake – I depicted it as too urgent of an interruption. Let me rework this into Elara simply needing to carry on with responsibilities:

They continued conversing for hours more about myriad subjects big and small. Elara cherished every shared memory, laugh, and endearing mannerism from Julien, indelibly imprinting each to sustain her spirit through the lonely voyage home.

As final minutes of this communication window dwindled however, the ship’s AI chimed politely over the cabin speakers – “Apologies interrupting Dr. Mireille, but we are approaching the scheduled cryostasis reentry preparation phase before continuing to the Kuiper research outpost. Please make your way down to Medbay whenever convenient.”

Elara sighed.

“I’ve got to go. Speak soon cheri.”

She blows a kiss.

“I’ll dream of our reunion during the long night ahead. Stay well my love!”

Julien returned the gesture with a sad smile. “Stay safe. Call when you can.”

The screen went dark, leaving Elara staring pensively dark screen. She turned to watch their target star system ahead.

A few weeks later Elara’s research into protoplanetary disks around newly forming stars was disrupted by an incoming communication from Julien. She eagerly accepted the message, expecting to see her love’s familiar face. Instead, the screen displayed a handsome middle-aged man Elara didn’t recognise.

“Hello?” the stranger began. “Apologies for the intrusion. My name is Claude, Julien Durand’s son.”

Elara reeled in confusion. Son?! But Julien had no children before her departure 30 years ago. Realisation struck her. Nearly twice that would have passed since then thanks to time dilation.

Claude gave her a knowing look through the flickering message. “I imagine you are quite shocked speaking to me instead of my father. We want to respect the relativistic effects making communication…complex.”

Swallowing anxiously, Elara manages to ask, “Where is Julien? Is he alright?”

“He’s quite well,” Claude assured. “But decided I should manage the quantum channel henceforth. The temporal discrepancy has proved…psychologically difficult.”

Elara nodded slowly as her vision blurred. “Yes, of course. Please tell Julien I love him…” Her voice broke.

“I will be sure to relay the message, Elara,” Claude replied gently. “This is all as strange for us as it is for you. But we wish only happiness for you both across spacetime itself.”

As the months wore on from Elara’s perspective, Claude kept her apprised of events on Earth through occasional messages. It was a lifeline to her long abandoned home, but hearing about friends and family aging and passing still twisted the knife of isolation and relativity deeper. Her only solace was seeing Julien’s kind eyes reflected in Claude and knowing that one soul still loved her enough to build this tenuous wormhole across the stars back to her stranded heart.

As Elara entered the Zeta Reticuli system at long last, she felt a thrill at seeing everything suddenly leap into stunning reality through the ship’s viewports. The exotic binary red dwarf stars, glowing accretion disks with nascent planets forming, vast nebulae clouds showcasing the unending stellar cycle of cosmic renewal, even the dull red metallic atmosphere of a close exoplanet ripe for landing and exploration.

She sent a transmission to Claude detailing her incredible vista and plans for orbital surveys and landings over the next two years in-system. But as Elara wrapped up the communication, loneliness tugged at her again realising over a century now separated her and Julien, any hope of reunion vanishing beyond a relativistic event horizon. Perhaps sensing this melancholy, Claude’s expression softened.

“There is a bright side, Dr. Mireille. Thanks to medical advancements my father is healthy and asks about you every day. Virtual reality allows him to join select parts of your surveys. He loves gazing at the raw images you share, knowing your eyes witness the same images so many light years away.”

Claude paused as something offscreen caught his attention. “I apologise, there is an important matter requiring my presence. We will speak again soon.”

Over the following weeks as Elara descended through swirling halos of ionized hydrogen and iron dust past dwarf planets with methane ice caps and bizarre gravitational readings suggesting rogue wormholes, she mused over Claude’s revelation about Julien. It was as if they explored these time-stretched vistas side by side. Her careful collection of classified subspace signals of potential extragalactic origin became his thrill and lifeblood in the winter of his days back home. Despite relativity forcing ever further temporal divergence, this virtual closeness gave Elara hope for the future.

Until one day an emergency notification from Claude lit up the communicator display. Elara scrambled to open the signal, Claude’s panicked face was phasing in and out of a static snowstorm. “Critical power failure at Institute lab. My father is missing. I sent you something but I must go now.”

The transmission faded into ominous white noise. Elara was left floating before the guttering display, fear clutching at her chest about Julien’s unknown fate…