Celebration of the Damned

Soon Henry made it a point to see Melinda every day, after his duties for the day were done. He felt good to be near her, even though his senses were limited by the cybernetic shell his psyche was encased in. And every day, he knew the question on her mind that she would never ask. Why? Why did he decide to take on a solitary existence with death no longer an option, with so many pleasures of life no longer possible. Was it just so he could listen to Mahler without end? He did like Mahler, and somehow the man's music fit the vast expanses he viewed each day, and the giant planet that his station orbited each day. But it was too late to regret his decision, too late to change his mind. Time meant nothing much to him any longer, but now he faced a situation where the passage of time had some meaning, for soon her vessel would be able to go back into space, and she would be on her way, leaving him alone once more. One day he was playing the piano in the lounge, and she was smiling as she listened. When he stopped after a long, slow section, she asked, "What was that?" "Just something I made up," he replied. "I can only play what I improvise, so no requests please." "A request should be easy if you're just making it up," she reasoned. "How about something fast in C major?" "For you, my darling, I will try," and he began to bang away rapidly on the white keys. To his surprise, she got out of her chair and began to dance, and he found himself increasing the tempo, until he could play no faster, then he shifted the key to A-minor and played very slowly. He noticed that she caught on to what he did immediately, never stopping her dance for a second, and when he shifted back into C, the tempo speeding up again, she laughed when the music finally ended, stopping her dance as he played a final chord. "That was wonderful," she said. "Thank you." She kissed the cold shell that was his head, and told him, "I'm going to sleep now. Will I see you tomorrow?" "Yes." She walked away, looking back once to smile, then she was gone. He played something in A-flat minor, something somber that fit his mood, but then he cut it short, stopping suddenly on a third, and he found the enigmatic ending pleasing in its mystery. He knew right then that she would soon be gone.