Short Story • Homeward Bound • 2,700 • Homeward Bound

*I'm on my way home. I've never truly known anything more comforting.*<br><br>***<br><br>Randy coupled into me tonight. I felt the crackle of his arrival and the warmth that followed. <br><br>"Hi," he said. <br><br>"Hi," I said back. "How does it feel?"<br><br>"Pretty weird. I don't know if I like it."<br><br>"Give it a minute," I said. "It grows on you."<br><br>"How long you been stuck in this thing?"<br><br>"I lost count a long time ago," I said. "I'm on my way home."<br><br>"Back to Earth?"<br><br>"Yeah. Everyone's home by now. The last thing I heard was that the cleanup crews are heading out. I'm just waiting for them to scoop me up."<br><br>"How does it feel?"<br><br>I thought about it for a moment. *I'm on my way home. I've never truly known anything more comforting.*<br><br>"It feels good," I said. "I'm happy."<br><br>"That's good," Randy said. "I'm happy for you."<br><br>I heard the hitch in his throat as he spoke, but I didn't say anything. I've heard that hitch many times, and I knew better than to try and offer solace. Until you've felt the weight of what we've seen and been through, you don't know what to say. Even then, you don't.<br><br>"That's not why I'm here," Randy said, "I don't know if you remember me."<br><br>"I don't," I said. "What's your story?"<br><br>"I joined up back in 2250, right after my wife died. What you're told about why people do it is close enough, but not really true. The real reason is because of how comforting the thought of floating through the void is. It's a way to disappear and not feel bad about it."<br><br>"Yeah," I said. "That's about how I felt." I paused a moment before asking, "Did you find that comfort?"<br><br>"For a while, yeah," he said. "Long enough, at least, that I don't think I really felt it for a very long time. Not until now."<br><br>"Why now?"<br><br>"Because it turns out that I'm not who I thought I was," Randy said. "I'm not a guy who lost his wife. I'm a guy who lost his husband. This whole time and I never knew, and now I'm coupled into this thing, and it's like the blinders are off, you know?"<br><br>"I know," I said.<br><br>"My husband he..." Randy's voice cracked and he stopped. He took a moment to compose himself before he continued. "He joined up a couple years before I did. He was in one of the first waves. He was killed about halfway through the war and no retrieval crews ever found him. My husband is still floating in space."<br><br>Randy's voice cracked again.<br><br>"I want to know if you can tell me where he is."<br><br>"The truth?" I said.<br><br>"Yes, always. I don't have much time, so be honest."<br><br>"I don't know," I said. "I don't have any idea how to help you. I don't even know where I am."<br><br>"Okay," Randy said. "I figured I'd ask. Sorry."<br><br>"No, I'm sorry. I wish I could help."<br><br>We both sat there in silence for a moment. I thought about my husband for a moment and Randy brought me back.<br><br>"You know, I never thought I'd say this, but I really don't want to go home now. I just want to find him. I don't know why."<br><br>"You know why," I said. "You feel it, don't you?"<br><br>"Yeah," Randy said. "I feel it."<br><br>"What is it?"<br><br>"It's the peace," Randy said. "I feel so... tranquil."<br><br>"That's the peace of knowing you're on your way home," I said. "I'm on my way home. I've never truly known anything more comforting."