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It’s 2 in the morning, and Dr. Einstein couldn’t sleep.
This was nothing abnormal, of course. A key part of a life dedicated to the sciences is the loss of sleep that comes from restless nights of research and writing. She had long grown accustomed to these hours, though she preferred waking early when she could. If work was the only cause of her lack of sleep, she would have paid it no mind. Life doesn’t work like that, and it’s unfair.
5 days have passed since the flight to Mars had launched. She had no reason to worry for the girl on that ship – the girl she called her daughter, as unbelievable as it may have seemed years ago. But here she was, at 2 in the morning, reading a book in some feeble attempt to clear her scrambled mind, or at least make some sense from the madness. She recalled giving some advice to an old friend, recommending reading as a way to calm one’s thoughts.
“That’s what I’m doing right now,” he had answered back. The decades-old memory was yellowed with age at the very back of her mind, and the most unsettling thing about it all was how unfamiliar it felt. It was a haunting feeling, beginning to forget the voice of a dear friend. Maybe one day he would completely disappear from her memory, and from the memory of the world he once loved so dearly. She thought about time – how time is too much for her fragile memory, and how time was too little for his weary soul. She wondered if she could have done something more for him.
She reflected on this some more, and the time she spent together with him. She thought back to the girl on the ship, and wondered what she was doing right now. She wondered if she should do something more for her.
Coralie, she thought. Are you doing well? Have you been eating well? Did you sleep early tonight? Aren’t the stars beautiful?
Aren’t these things a mother is supposed to say?
Her mind then drifted to another familiar-yet-unfamiliar face – Emma Planck. The woman was like a mother to her. Strong-willed, passionate, nurturing, and kind. She was everything Ein wanted to be for Coralie, and yet she was everything Ein couldn’t be. While Emma laughed and joked and fooled around, Ein lectured Coralie on quantum physics with a stone cold face. They were two different people, after all. Perhaps it would have been better if she was Coralie’s mother instead.
She remembered the day Emma left her. She was smiling, she had the audacity to smile as Tesla bawled her eyes out in front of her. Maybe she felt guilty about leaving them alone in this world, perhaps the sight of her students’ faces broke her heart. Perhaps Ein could have made more of an effort to smile back at her. But there was no going back to the past, all that remained were yellowing memories.
She gave Coralie the name “Planck,” after Emma. She loved giving her gifts – a vibrant red scarf, a bowl of her favorite soup, the hat she always wore on her head. Maybe it was the only way she knew how to love her. Maybe her words couldn’t ever convey what she felt in her heart, maybe her hands were doomed to kill whatever they laid her hands on. Ironically, the thing that the genius understood the least was her own self.
If there was one person on Earth, past, present or future, who could ever understand Lieserl, it would be Karl Gustav. A well-respected psychologist, the Origin of Reason, and a boring old man. He taught her what love felt like, and how fun it was to tease old people. He made her realise that there was a place where she could be worth something, where she would be valued and respected. Without Karl, she wouldn’t be where she was today – perhaps the entire world wouldn’t be how it is today.
She said goodbye to him once, too. She said goodbye, and see you soon, and the next time she saw him was on the worn-out photo Emma gave her after his death. Life is like that, it’s unfair, you know? You make a promise, and you’ll never get to keep it. She remembered how she said goodbye to Coralie, too. She said goodbye, and see you soon. When she sees her again… or, if she sees her again, she’ll tell her how much she loves her. She could only pray to some god that science doesn’t believe in that her promise could be fulfilled.
She looked up from her book. In the dim light of the lamp, and her drowsy, blurring vision, she could make out three figures standing in front of her, motionless. Three people who were no longer around, beautiful ghosts who haunted the corners of her mind. It was because of them that she was loved, and it was because of them that she was afraid to love again. She would have said something to them, but she knew she would receive no response.
She shook her head, her gaze turning back down to her book. She wasn’t really paying attention before, but a single piece of dialogue stood out to her.
“Come home soon,” the main character said. Ein read it in her own voice.
She would have loved to go back in time, and give Welt the life he deserved. To give Emma the smile she should have given. To fufill the promise she made with Karl. The past will remain in the past, and time will rot their distorting faces beyond recognition. But though she could never return to the past, she could still touch the book in her lap in the present. She could still say what she wanted to say, and do what she wanted to do for the present. In the present, Coralie was still probably up late, perhaps reading a book like she is now. When she comes home, Ein will give her everything she should have done in the past.
She closed her book, then her eyes, and sighed.
It’s 3 in the morning, and Dr. Einstein couldn’t sleep. Maybe tomorrow, she should take Tesla and Joey to go shopping.