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In a run-down but homey bungalow somewhere on the Indian subcontinent, Lalah Sune looked up from the dishes she was washing at the sound of a jet engine flying low overhead. She frowned to herself—she didn’t live near a transit center or spaceport, so the sound of a low-flying ship often meant trouble. She put down the dish she was holding, letting it sink beneath the surface of the soapy water in the basin, and dried her hands on a towel before heading to the front door.
Outside she was surprised to see the neighborhood children gathering around a bright, shiny machine: a sleek, Y-shaped ship very much unlike the rickety transports and crafts she was used to seeing. Its red, white, and blue paint seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.
Lalah had also seen it once before.
“Oh, my! Miss Machu, is that you?”
The windshield popped open with a hydraulic hiss, flipping upwards like a can lid. A young girl with bright red hair hopped out of the cockpit, with a white Haro unit wearing a black beanie following close behind. The girl waved cheerfully to Lalah as she stepped off the porch and came to see what was going on.
“Miss Machu, what are you doing here?” Lalah asked. “And how did you know where to find me?”
“Any courier worth her salt can make deliveries anywhere, no matter how far!” said Machu with a playful smile. “But that’s not important—I’ve got a special delivery for you, Miss Lalah!”
“Special, special!” Haro echoed.
Lalah giggled.
“Well, alright then,” said Lalah. “What is it?”
Machu took something from her shoulder bag and held it out for Lalah to see. It was a small paper envelope, of the kind that was once commonly used to send letters before digital correspondence became more widespread. It had her name written on it in an elegant hand, but there was no address other than “Earth”.
“And you managed to find me just with that…?” Lalah mused to herself. “May I open it?”
“Please!”
“Open it, open it!”
Lalah flipped the envelope over and saw that it had been sealed with a sticker shaped like a comet. She smiled as she slipped a finger under the flap, gently lifting it without damaging the sticker. Inside the envelope was a printed photograph: Char Aznable smiled back at her from the page, looking as handsome as the day he’d left her behind at the spaceport gate. And next to him—smiling just as warmly, but with his eyes on Char—was a bearded man she had never met, but whose face she’d seen countless times in a certain someone’s thoughts.
“You found him…” Lalah said quietly, covering her mouth with one hand. “I knew you would, but… oh, I’m so glad.”
“Mr. Comet wanted you to have that,” said Machu. “He said he’d tell me where you lived if I did him a favor, and handed me the envelope.”
“I see,” said Lalah. “I suppose he must have wanted me to have the closure as well… how thoughtful of him.”
“What was it?” Machu leaned over to peek at the photo. “Oh, it’s that pic I took of him and Beardman!”
“Beardman?” Lalah giggled. She turned the photo over, and found that there was something written on the back in a different hand from the address:
Thank you for taking care of him for me.
A laugh escaped her lips.
“You should be thanking me for sending him back to you, Mr. Bull,” she said, mostly to herself—she knew Challia Bull couldn’t possibly have heard her. She shook her head, as if to wave the thought away. Tucking the photo back into the envelope, she turned to the young courier and asked, “Miss Machu, do you have some time?”
“Huh?”
“Well, you must have come an awfully long way to find me,” said Lalah. She looked down, bashfully, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I wondered if perhaps you’d like to stay and chat for a little while? I don’t have much to offer, but I can put some tea on if you’d like.”
Machu’s eyes lit up.
“I’d love to!” she said. “Sooooo much has happened since I last saw you, and I gotta hear how you managed to get out of that place! Oh, and you gotta tell me all the dirt about Mr. Comet, too!!”
Lalah giggled.
“And in exchange, you simply must tell me all about life in space!”
“Done deal!”
“Done deal, done deal!” Haro chimed in.
Lalah motioned toward the bungalow she called home. Machu followed her back up the steps and into the house, Haro bouncing along behind them. After she got the kettle going for tea, Lalah took the photo out of the envelope and paused to consider where she would put it. She ended up crossing the room to lean it against the cracked mirror on the dressertop, resolving to see if she could scrounge a frame for it somewhere. She could almost see his reflection in the mirror again, running his fingers through his newly-trimmed hair…
She smiled to herself. It was a memory she would treasure—but not cling to quite so desperately. Not anymore.
“Miss Lalah?” Machu’s voice came from one of the chairs around the kitchen table. “Are you okay? You got all quiet…”
Lalah turned to her, smile never fading.
“I’m alright. Here—what kind of tea would you like?”