For the First Time, Again by Sylvain Neuvel

Author:Sylvain Neuvel
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tor Publishing Group

30

La Valse D’amélie

Music. Happy, romantic music, like in those movies where the man walks through a crowd and asks the woman to dance. Like Dirty Dancing at the end, except superold when people dressed like vampires all the time. Or maybe the ballroom scene in Beauty and the Beast. Yes, that’s it. I’ll dream about that. The room looks endless. Shining gold everywhere. The music is playing. I’m all alone, until I ain’t and Belle takes my hand. We’re dancing. Let’s start from the beginning again. I … can’t. I think the music’s real. I was dreaming, but now, not so much. I was … Crud. I was having a panic attack, in China.

Soft light. It’s nighttime, I think. Late evening, maybe. I’m on a couch. Parallel little green lines six inches from my nose. I like corduroy. It looks like a bamboo forest. Where am I? I’m not sure I want to know. This blanket is supersoft. I think I’ll just stay here and wait for the world to end.

—Oh, you’re awake. Are you feeling better, Aster? You gave us quite a scare.

That’s Qian Xuesen. I guess I need to turn around now. Yep. Qian Xuesen, in a big old fancy chair. There’s a gigantic bookshelf behind him that makes him even more intimidating. He’s like a million years old and wise and all. That was intimidating enough. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say now. Hi? No, that’s weird.

—The music. It was beautiful. Was that you playing?

—I do sit at the piano every day and pretend I know how to play, but if what you heard can be described as beautiful, it must have been my wife, Ms. Jiang. This is Ast— Where is she? She’ll be back.

—Yes, sir. I— Where am I?

Please let it not be his home.

—This is my home. I thought you would rather wake up here than in a hospital answering questions from the authorities. I hope I did not presume wrong.

Oh crud. I sputter nonsense at him, then start hyperventilating, making a scene in a public place, and he has to drag me to his house and watch me drool on his couch for God knows how long. I am just … mortified. I don’t really care about saving the world, now. I just want him to stop staring at me. I want to go home, wherever that is.

—No, sir. Very, very not wrong. I—I better leave now. I’m sorry for everything, sir. I’m terribly sorry. Thank you for everything.

—Please! Sit. You need to rest.

—I’m okay. I really need to find my friend, the man I was with.

—He’s in the kitchen, enjoying my wife’s soup. I can bring you a bowl if you want, but first I would like you to answer one question.

—…

—Earlier, you asked for my help in finding a rocket and a deep space probe. Those are—even you will recognize—rather unusual demands from a teenager, or anyone for that matter. You must have known I would ask questions, but you never told me why you require those things, only that it was important.

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