Free Bastion Science Fiction Magazine - Issue 4, July 2014 by Alex Hernandez George S. Walker Eleanor R. Wood Robert Quinlivan Peter Medeiros Hannah Goodwin R. Leigh Hennig Page A

saw him. I knew you’d have one growing, energetic kid; I didn’t expect there to be two more. But it suits you.” He smiled as he loaded the dishwasher. “I wonder how old they’ll be before Mum and Dad get to meet them?”
    Phyllis put down her cloth. “Damian, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
    Her tone made him stop what he was doing. She sat down and gestured for him to do the same. “What?” he asked, suddenly anxious.
    “Mum isn’t in cryo with Dad.” Phyllis took a breath. “She died in a traffic accident four years ago.”
    He stared at her in silence for a long moment. “No. She was due to enter the programme the year after me! She…” His throat constricted. Phyllis came over and knelt beside him.
    “I know, Day. I was so glad you got to say goodbye to her before you went. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I thought it was better to let you settle in first.”
    He couldn’t speak. Settle in? How could he ‘settle in’ to the idea that his mother was dead?
    “What…what about Dad?” he eventually managed, wiping away tears. “He’ll be brought back without her. They always believed cryo meant they’d never lose each other.”
    “I know.” Phyllis’ eyes were welling too, her old grief returning with his new loss. “But it doesn’t always work that way. I miss her every day, just like I miss Dad, and missed you. But you’re back, and he’ll be back one day. It’s still hard to accept she won’t be.”
    Damian felt his new world closing in on him. He was alive. His illness was gone. But nothing had waited for him to catch up. If this was how it felt for him, how bewildering would it be for his father? His poor dad, waking up to a world where his never-met grandchildren were as old as he was, themselves waking up from decades in the cold…and the one person he had counted on as his constant would be absent–long dead, and not yet mourned.
     
    #
     
    Damian checked his phone for the umpteenth time since he met Anna at the coffee shop. Phyllis caught him putting it down with a sigh.
    “Why don’t you just call her?” she asked.
    “She said she needed time to think. I don’t want to hassle her.”
    “But ignoring her is hardly going to help her adjust to your return. Ask her to a holofilm with you–or dinner. Invite her for dinner here, if you don’t want it to seem like a date.”
    Damian smiled. “That’s a lovely offer, Phyll. But…I don’t know. I don’t expect her to pick up where we left off, but I can’t even assume she still wants me in her life. I feel like the ball’s in her court.”
    “Think about it, at least. I know it’s killing you to be so distant from her.” Phyllis reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “I can only imagine what it’s like to have lost so much time with someone you love…and for it to feel like no time at all for you.”
    Indeed, Anna had lived a quarter of her life while he was on the long, quiet journey to his recovery. He couldn’t just come back to life and start interfering with hers. So when she finally called him, ten days after their first meeting, he could hardly keep the delight out of his voice.
    “Anna!” he greeted her.
    “Hi, Day.” Her voice was subdued.
    “It’s good to hear from you! How are things?”
    “I’m…” She seemed to stumble on the words. “I need someone to talk to. Can you meet me?”
    “Of course.” Sudden dread overtook his relief at hearing from her. “Are you okay?”
    She ignored the question. “Are you free now? I’m in the city.”
    “Roasted Bean?” He checked his watch. “Half an hour?”
    “Great. I’ll be there.”
    He arrived a few minutes late, as the city traffic was worse than he remembered. He reached the shop to find Anna waiting for him outside. When he hugged her, she clung to him longer than before.
    “Can we take a walk instead?” she asked as they parted.
    “The sun’s shining–why not?” He smiled as they crossed the street to the