The Crest

They exchanged tender words as they always did.

Comment es-tu mon cheri? ’How are you, my love?” he asked.

Je désire ardemment ton étreinte. I long for your embrace,” she replied.

You’ve done well.

You’ve been watching.

Of course, you’re amazing.

I don’t know if we will survive. The attacks are getting worse.

Have faith. I’m always by your side.

She felt a pang of sadness at hearing his voice — so calm, so gentle, so clear this morning. The melancholy paralyzed her to the core, engulfed her.

Her voice cracked. It’s so hard living without you. It’s been almost a year.

I know. You must keep living, at least for me. Our work together must not be in vain. We both will live on in the trees, what greater remembrance could we ask for?

And if I choose to meet you sooner?

I would welcome that. I love you with all my heart. The pain you hold, it will ease, you must believe me.

Is there such a thing as happiness anymore?

These are catastrophic days for sure, but happiness is inside you. You’ll find it.

I can’t fathom it now.

Protect the spark, Nurture it.

What if it doesn’t return?

You must believe that it will.

It’s been a while since we last talked. Do you remember what you said last time?

Yes, I do, I said to wait a week and then decide.

I’ve decided to wait for now.

Thank you, my dear, you don’t know how happy that makes me.

For you, my love. For you.

You know, your colleague Karl is trying his best.

I know.

Go easy on him. He can’t get home. You are his family now.

I’ll remember that.

His instincts are impeccable. Trust him.

I will.

He smiled and his image faded away slowly. Danielle remained in her bed sobbing, now more muted. She wept for some time before the alarm went off and she prepared for another day. She wanted to be stoic, but on some days, she felt exposed. She knew the staff could see her pain.

She lifted the covers and looked at the picture of them together on the nightstand, Sahalie Falls. She knew the anniversary of his death was coming. Incrementally, she found a spark of hope. She thought, perhaps the one redeeming characteristic of the human species was the ability to transcend sorrow if given enough time. Even with that small reflection, she knew she was getting better.

The Director of FORC gathered her composure, dressed, and prepared for a hectic day. She walked outside of her dormitory and stopped. She took a deep breath, adjusted her suit jacket, and entered her office where at 8:00 am she met her Deputy Director Karl Müller.

“Good morning, Karl,” Danielle said.

“Good morning, Danielle.”

“Before we get started, Karl,” she hesitated. “I just wanted to thank you for all that you do to keep FORC going.”

“I appreciate that,” he said, curious.

“You’ve been amazing, your research, your fortitude,” she told him.

Karl smiled, unaccustomed to her praise. “I’ll take accolades any place I can get them.”

“I’d like you to take some time off. Relax, perhaps forget about this place.”

“Why? Did I do something wrong?” he asked.

“Quite the contrary, you’ve been extraordinary. The offer is on the table, I don’t know how many more days we will have before — you know, they get here. But once they arrive, it’s all hands-on deck.”

“I understand.”

“When was the last time you communicated with your family?”

“I lost contact fifteen months ago when the satellites crashed.”

“I’d like you to use my sat phone to call your family.”

“What? This is your one and only link to the outside world. I can’t do it,” he said.

“Never mind about that. You only have one family. Do it, Karl. Please.”