'I am thy father's spirit,
Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night,
And for the day confin'd to fast in fires,
Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature
Are burnt and purg'd away. But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison-house,
I could a tale unfold whose—'

"Hey, whatcha doing?"

Lucas looked up from his plex to find his father standing in the doorway of his bedroom. "How'd you know I was awake?"

"The light from your plex. I could see it through the door."

"Damn translucent door!" Lucas muttered. He had known that door would be trouble. Scowling, he put his plex down in front of him. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, dressed in the same clothes as before, having not changed before his nap. "I guess I can turn this on, then." He reached towards the lamp on his right. After one tap to its top, the dark room was illuminated.

Taylor took a single step forward. "So, uh," he spoke up carefully, "are you still feeling… drunk?"

"Barely," Lucas replied. "Just feeling warm now. And thirsty."

"I can get you some water," Taylor said. Before Lucas could respond, he went off to the kitchen. Lucas furrowed his brows. Less than a minute later, the old man returned with a glass of cold, clear water, which he promptly handed to his son. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Lucas said as he took the glass—then, instead of drinking, he stared at his father with narrowed eyes.

"What?" Taylor inquired when he noticed his son's gaze.

"Nothing." Lucas shook his head, then drank over a half of the glass in one draft. "Damn," he muttered, putting the glass on his right nightstand, "it still tastes weird."

"Just give it a day or two. You'll like it then."

Taylor sat down at the foot of the bed. Lucas frowned. And there he had been hoping to finish reading in peace… "How come you haven't gone to bed yet?" he tried, hoping his father would do just that. "I mean, it's really late. And I'm sure you have to get up early in the morning…"

"Yeah, I was just going to bed when I saw you're awake," Taylor said. To Lucas's disappointment, he did not take the bait and continued sitting there. "Already brushed my teeth and took a shower and everything."

"Yeah, I heard," Lucas uttered to himself. He was, however, not referring to the sound of running water, but to a rather annoying sound of off-key singing.

"How's your head, by the way? Any better?" Taylor asked.

The youth nodded. "It's fine now, doesn't hurt."

"Oh, good," Taylor said. "That's, that's good. And are you…" He hesitated, unsure if it would be a good idea to bring the topic up. "Are you still, um…"

"Drunk?" Lucas cut in when Taylor paused again. "You already asked me. Are you drunk?"

Taylor smiled, then said, "I meant 'grumpy.'"

"Oh." The youth glanced down at his feet for a moment, taking in a long breath. A part of him wanted to say it would be a real miracle if he were not; after all, he had been grumpy for nearly five years by then. Nevertheless, he decided not to tell his father that. He looked back up at the man and shrugged. "I don't know," he claimed. "A little bit."

Taylor gave a nod. His eyes traveled down to the plex Lucas had put on the bed. "So what are you doing?" he asked, turning the device around so he could see what the screen said.

"Just reading," Lucas replied. When he saw his father starting to read the text, he clarified, "That's Hamlet." Taylor looked up at him. "From Shakespeare."

"Haven't you read that before?"

"A few times." Taylor raised his eyebrows at that, and Lucas shrugged. "What? It's the best story ever written."

"Is it?"

"Of course!" Lucas told him. "It's got everything a good story should have: drama, revenge, dead fathers…"

Taylor smacked Lucas's knee, prompting the boy to laugh. Taylor pretended to pout. "That's not a good story," he claimed. "That's a bad story. A very bad story."

"To each his own," Lucas said, smirking.

Taylor shook his head, yet he could not help smiling himself. "Well, looks like you're not so grumpy after all if you're in the mood to tease me." He gave his son a light, playful push, making Lucas chuckle again. Afterwards, Taylor's eyes went back to the plex. "That doesn't look like the first page," he remarked.

"It's not."

"How long have you been awake?"

"I don't know," Lucas claimed. "An hour or so."

"An hour?"

"Or so."

"Then why didn't you come out and tell me?"

His father was staring at him as though he was hurt by that. Lucas frowned. "Why, because if I had told you, you would have known," he replied, giving Taylor his best duh‑look. "Can't I get a moment alone?"

"Haven't you had enough of that?" his father questioned. "We've barely seen each other in the past two years."

"Hey, today alone we've spent a good couple hours together. We haven't spent that much time together in… ever."

Taylor nodded, sucking in his lips for a second. "Well, maybe we should work on changing that."

Lucas snorted. "Why? Just so we could fight again? Haven't you had enough of that?" he bit. When Taylor sent him a glare, he glanced down and shifted his position. "Sorry."

"You know, we don't have to fight. …if you're willing," Taylor told him. "I know I am. Speaking of which…"

Instead of finishing that thought, Taylor stood up. "What are you doing?" Lucas asked.

"I want to give you something."

"A slap?" Lucas half-joked, hoping to hear a negative answer.

Fortunately for Lucas, his wish was fulfilled. "No, silly," the commander replied. "Just hang on, I'll be back in a sec." After those words, he walked out of the room.

Lucas heard him going to the kitchen, followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening. While waiting, Lucas took his plex and turned its screen off. He had the feeling it would take a while before he would get to finish his reading; there was no use wasting the battery. Once he put the plex onto the nightstand on his left, Commander Taylor returned.

"Here you go," the father said, holding out his hand.

Upon seeing what it was his father was giving him, Lucas raised his brows. "A grape?" A single piece of the round, red fruit was lying on Taylor's palm. After telling him he was only allowed to drink that milk, after slapping his hand away when he had reached for his father's grapes, the man was giving him one. He had not expected that.

"Well, you said you liked them at breakfast," Taylor said.

The youth looked up at his father, meeting his eyes. "I thought you didn't want me to eat these."

"Consider it a peace offering."

When he heard that, Lucas could not help but smile. He tried to keep a straight face, but, somehow, against his will, the corners of his lips turned upwards. It was a nice gesture, he thought. The only problem was that his father was not supposed to make nice gestures. His father was supposed to be cold and ignorant and full of himself and critical and—

"Are you going to take it?" Taylor's voice interrupted Lucas's musing.

He did not want to take a peace offering from his father. However, he had to keep up appearances if he wanted to succeed in taking Terra Nova down. Plus, he wanted to eat the grape. Taking in a breath, Lucas reached for it. He took the piece of fruit and put it in his mouth. While Taylor grinned and sat down again, Lucas's own smile vanished into a grimace. "This is disgusting," the boy mumbled before swallowing. "I love it."

"Finally something you don't hate!"

Both of them chuckled when his father said that, then the room turned silent. After a couple of seconds, Lucas spoke up, "Look, about what happened earlier…" He paused, trying to find the right words. He was sick of apologizing, sick of everything being his fault, but he felt as if he had no choice. After all, while he had not meant to pretend he thought of Terra Nova as paradise, he had not meant to be hostile, either. 'Not yet, anyway,' he thought to himself. "I'm sorry that I, uh… freaked out a little bit. I didn't mean to do that. Well, I did kind of mean to do it while I was doing it, but…" Taylor furrowed his brows at that. Lucas continued, "It's just not like I was planning it, you know? I didn't wake up in the morning and decide I would yell at you later. Sorry I yelled at you, by the way."

Taylor nodded. "You shouldn't have done that."

Lucas sucked in his lips for a second, then continued, "I know I shouldn't have. Look, I was a little bit, uh… I mean, I wasn't that drunk, but I was—"

"Yeah, I have to say," the father cut in, "I checked the bottle after you'd gone to bed—it was fuller than I expected it to be. The way you acted, well…" Taylor snorted.

Lucas took a deep breath through his nose, mentally praying for the strength to remain calm. "Like I said, I'm sorry," he forced himself to say. "And it wasn't just the alcohol. It was… everything. Coming here to this new world. The headache, the nausea, the itching—which is gone now, by the way."

"Oh, that's good."

"Yeah. Plus, the alcohol on top of that… I was…" Lucas heaved a sigh, then said, "I was overwhelmed. Really overwhelmed."

"I guess that's understandable," Taylor admitted.

Lucas blinked. Was Taylor actually being understanding? Or did Lucas just seem so sorry Taylor took pity on him? Either way, it was a better response than he had expected. "I really do regret what I said. And how I said it," Lucas claimed. It was partially true; he did regret it, if only because he had to apologize for it.

Taylor took in a breath.

Lucas straightened his posture, preparing himself for a lecture.

"That's okay."

Silence.

Lucas blinked again. "It is?"

"Well, it's not okay that you yelled at me," Taylor explained, "but I'm willing to let it slide."

"You are?" Lucas asked, hardly believing his ears.

"Just this once," Taylor told him. "So long as you promise you won't yell at me again."

"Oh, of course, I promise. I won't yell at you again. Ever," Lucas said, even though he knew full well he would break the promise. He did not know when or why, but he knew he would. His father could drive him mad like nobody else could.

"Okay, then."

Silence.

Lucas blinked a few more times. "So… is this it? You're really not mad?" he questioned. "Aren't you going to ground me or something?"

"No, I'm really not mad this time," Taylor told him. "And do you know why?" Lucas shook his head. "Because I've been thinking about it, and I've realized something."

"What?"

"That this won't last."

"What won't?"

"This attitude of yours. Hating everything about this place," Taylor explained. "It's not going to last, trust me. I know better than anyone how overwhelming this journey can be."

Lucas took in a breath. "You do, huh?"

"I was stuck here alone for 118 days, remember?"

"Yeah, I know, I know you said it was hard and you were isolated and everything, but… You just…" Lucas shrugged. "You seemed to have handled it so well, you know? It's not just that you 'handled' it, you even liked this place. That doesn't seem very overwhelming."

When Lucas said that, Taylor shook his head. "No, son, I like it here now," he clarified. "For the first few days—weeks, to be honest with you—there was nothing I wanted more than to go back to Earth."

The boy furrowed his brows. "Seriously?"

"Are you kidding? When I first got here, I was scared and sick and alone—that was pretty damn overwhelming."

Scared? His father was capable of being scared? That was almost too hard to believe. And— "Wait!" Lucas said, raising one hand. "You were sick, too?"

Taylor shrugged. "For the first day or two."

"Did you throw up?" Lucas asked as he leaned the tiniest bit forward.

"No, I didn't," his father answered. "Although there were moments I thought I might."

Upon hearing that, Lucas's face lit up. "Really?" he asked with a smile as bright as the lamp next to him.

Taylor frowned at seeing his son's reaction. "Why are you smiling? Don't you have any sympathy for me?"

"Oh, I do," Lucas claimed. "I'm just glad I'm not the only one who was ill."

"I see." The commander gave a nod. "Don't worry, you're not alone," he assured him. "The point is, I hated being in Terra Nova when I first got here, I did. Granted, in my case it was mostly because I was alone—which you're not, so I did kind of expect you to like it here right away… But I suppose it wasn't the only reason. Terra Nova does take some adjusting. I really thought at first that this was the worst place I've ever lived at—and I've moved through my fair share of warzones, you know that. But now? Now I can honestly say that I've never been to a better place than this one. Now I know that this is the best home I could possibly ask for."

'Well, sheet,' Lucas thought to himself, 'he's actually going to kill me when I do my job, isn't he?'

Taylor continued, "And I assure you that this is exactly how you will end up feeling. I don't know when it'll happen for you, but I know—I know—that, one day, I will ask you how you like it in the colony, and you will tell me that you love it here."

"You sound pretty sure of that," Lucas remarked.

"I am sure," Taylor confirmed. "You just need a little more time to adjust, and then you'll see how great this place is. I know you will. I mean, clean air? Clean water? Healthy, delicious food?" Lucas glanced aside, his face scrunching up ever so slightly. "I know, I know," Taylor said, "it's probably hard for you to see the appeal now. But, like I said, you just need to adjust. I know the air made you sick, but, believe you me, once you'll have lived here for a while, going back to the future would make you feel even worse."

'Oh, we'll see…' Lucas thought to himself.

"Same goes for water," the commander continued. "You would hate the dirty, rusty taste of Earth water if you hadn't grown up with it, trust me. And as for the food… Look, the only reason—well, besides the fact I had to prepare the milk myself… Let me tell you something, it wasn't that easy to make."

"Wait, that milk—you made it yourself?" Lucas asked.

"Yeah. They gave me the recipe and the ingredients and this bag of powder I had mix in it. I spent, like, an hour making it last night, and I only made two bottles."

"Huh." Lucas blinked and pressed his tongue against his cheek. "So you made that milk yourself…" The boy chuckled. "Well, that explains why it tastes so incredibly awful."

"Hey!" The son laughed while the father frowned. "I thought we were having a moment. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Lucas said, even though he was not sorry in the least—a fact his giggling gave away. "I couldn't help it."

"You couldn't, huh?" Taylor shook his head while Lucas forced his laughter to quiet down.

"What can I say? I live for teasing you."

Taylor gave his son a light push, prompting another chuckle from the young man. The father ignored it. "Anyway, as I was trying to say," he spoke up, "the reason why I wanted you to drink the milk was that, well, I was told it would make the transition easier for you. And I wanted to make things easier for you than they'd been for me."

"Why?" Lucas asked, eying his father in suspicion. "Because I couldn't handle it the way you did?"

"No; it's because I remember how I hated it here. Because it was hard for me. I just didn't want that for you. I wanted you to love Terra Nova from your first moment here. I figured the smoother the transition, the more you'd like it. But if you really hate the milk so much—well, that kind of defeats the purpose of giving it to you."

Lucas glanced down at his feet, shifting his position. "You know, Dad," he said, "I've been thinking about that milk, and I reached the conclusion I should stick with it for now."

"Really?" Taylor asked, raising his eyebrows.

Lucas nodded. "Three days exclusively, right? I've already thrown up once since I came here; I don't want to repeat it tomorrow. I'm going to play it safe."

"Wow," Taylor said, and Lucas was not sure if the amazement on his face was genuine or faked to mock him. "Look at you, making the mature decision! Maybe you're not such a child after all."

"See, I don't like migraines, you know?"

"I don't think anyone does, son," Taylor told him. "So, you see, the air, the water, the food, all of it you'll get used to. And, well, I know there is also the little matter of dinosaurs…" The commander took in a breath, then said, "Son, I understand they can be scary, but you don't have to worry about them hurting you, really. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

Taylor sent the boy a smile and proceeded to say, "Because I won't let them."

Lucas laughed. "Yeah, right!"

"Hey, I'm serious," Taylor insisted. "I won't let them kill you, peanut; I will wrestle them if that's what it takes."

"You know, I'd actually like to see that fight," Lucas said, chuckling.

"To be frank, I hope it won't come to that," the father admitted. "But if it does, I'll do it. So there's really no reason you shouldn't like it here. …after you adjust, of course."

Silence fell upon the room. After a few seconds, during which Lucas shifted his position again, the boy spoke up, "So you're really not mad at me for yelling at you?"

"I'm really not this time," Taylor replied.

"Huh." The young man took in a deep breath, glancing down for a second before cautiously looking into his father's eyes. "Dad, can I ask you something?" he inquired with a soft, quiet voice. "And please give me a serious answer."

"What is it?"

"Why are you acting like this? Why are you calling me 'peanut' again all of a sudden? Chatting with me like this? Giving me water—and a peace offering? After I freaked out at you?"

Taylor shrugged. "I'm just trying to be nice."

"Yeah, but why? Why are you trying to be nice to me?" He knew it would not last, but it still weirded him out a bit. What kind of game was his father playing? There was no way the man was being nice for his benefit.

"Because you're my son?" Taylor responded, clearly finding the answer obvious. "And because I'm your father? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought fathers were supposed to be nice to their kids."

"That's what I used to think," Lucas muttered, more to himself than to Taylor. Then again, that must have been why his father was acting that way—not because he wanted to, but because he was supposed to. He had to protect his public image, especially now that he was the leader of Terra Nova, a role model for everyone there.

"Lucas," the father said, "I know we've had some rough times in the past few years…" He sighed, remembering the petty as well as the not-so-petty arguments the two had engaged in since Ayani's death. "…but now we're here," he continued, "at this new place, building the future together with the other colonists. You see, I was hoping that, now that we're in Terra Nova, we could try and turn things around."

Lucas blinked. Something about Taylor's voice made him wonder if perhaps he really was being nice for his benefit. But that was impossible! …wasn't it? No, it had to be. (For a second, but only for a second, Lucas felt bad about the fact he had come to Terra Nova to destroy his father's dream. His shame went away as soon as he reached the conclusion that, whatever the reason behind Taylor's behavior, it would not last. Within a few days at the most, the man would return to his old arrogant, mean and critical self, Lucas was sure of that.) "Oh, believe me," the son claimed, "there is nothing I want more than to turn things around." A tiny, little part of him, the part that felt the alcohol-induced warmth, wanted to add, 'But not in the way you think, muahahahaha!' Nevertheless, he held back on the desire to do that.

"Good, then we agree," Taylor said, smiling.

"Yeah." Lucas nodded. "For the first time in our lives, I think."

"Second time," Taylor corrected jokingly. "Remember yesterday, when I said you were too smart for me?"

Lucas started to laugh at that, and Taylor himself chuckled. "That is true. I almost forgot." After a few seconds, when the mood settled into a serious one again, the son decided it might be best to apologize once more. After all, if he was going to play it safe with the milk, he might as well play it safe with his father for the time being. "Dad, I'm sorry if I ruined this day for you. I know you wanted to take me on a trip somewhere…"

"Ah, you didn't ruin it," Taylor shrugged it off. "I wanted to take you to this mountain near the colony. The view from there is incredible! The most breathtaking sight I've ever seen." Taylor paused as if expecting a reaction from Lucas; all the boy did was give a single nod. "I'm sure you would have liked it," the man continued. "But hey, that's all right; I can take you there next week." (Commander Taylor would not take Lucas there until three months later.) "Like I told you yesterday, I'm in a good mood. I'm not going to let a little, drunken argument spoil the whole day. Speaking of which—I have to ask: where on earth did you get that bottle? 'Cause I didn't have that in the house before you came. At least, not that I'm aware off…" Taylor's voice trailed off.

Lucas smirked at his father's puzzlement, then he answered, "Boylan. He stopped by, like, an hour before you came back. He gave it to me. Well, actually, he brought it for you; said it's a thank-you for putting in a good word for him for the second pilgrimage."

Taylor furrowed his brows. "Where did Boylan get it?" he asked. "I'd have thought Hope Plaza might confiscate this kind of, uh, luggage."

"Maybe he smuggled it here, I don't know," Lucas replied, shrugging. "I didn't ask. I just told him you were gone and that I'd give it to you when you came back."

"I see," Taylor said. A part of him wondered if Lucas was really planning on giving it to him, or if the kid would have kept it all for himself had he not walked in on him.

Afterwards, Lucas took the glass of water Taylor had given him. He drank the remainder of the liquid inside, then put it back on the nightstand. When he looked back at his father, he found the man eying him with a curious, narrowed gaze. "What?"

"I have a question for you," Taylor said.

"What is it?"

"You said earlier that you… that you expected to hate it here," the old man spoke. "Is that true? Did you really come thinking you wouldn't like it here?"

Lucas took in a breath, not answering right away. Not only had he expected so—he had hoped so. He could not allow the place to feel like a home, he couldn't. He did not think it would be a good idea to tell his father that, though.

"Did you?"

On the other hand, he had already admitted he had expected so; denying it would not be believable, he figured. "To tell you the truth," he said, "I did. I know all the reports and news and ads said it, but, frankly, Terra Nova didn't sound like a paradise to me. What with all the dinosaurs, having to build a new civilization from scratch and all that… And, well, the fact that I felt sick as soon as I came did not prove me wrong."

"Then why did you come here?" the commander inquired.

Lucas blinked. "Didn't you want me to?"

"I did," Taylor said. 'More than anything.' "But, you see, I like this place. You say you don't. Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't have come; I'm glad you're here. I'm just confused, you know? I'm having trouble understanding. If you honestly thought you'd hate it here, why did you bother coming?"

Lucas shrugged. "'Cause I wanted to."

"You wanted to come to a place that you thought you'd hate?"

"Yes, actually, I did."

"That makes no sense."

"Oh, it makes perfect sense to me," Lucas claimed. "See, this is the 'bad-but-likable' thing all over again. Just because you hate something, doesn't mean you can't want it. I want plenty of things I hate."

"But why?"

"Because I hate the alternative even more," Lucas explained. "Dad, don't get me wrong—I'm glad I came here, too, okay? I am. I really, really am. But it's not because I think this world is a wonderland or anything. It's because coming here has given me an amazing—a‑mazing—job opportunity. Here I'll be able to study the portal in much bigger depth than I could have in Chicago. Here, I'll have a chance to accomplish something. Something big!" Lucas smiled, then his expression turned serious again. "This is my dream job, Dad. If the only way for me to have my dream job is to live at a place that I don't like, I'm willing to do that. Hell, I'm happy to do that. But that doesn't mean I have to like this planet. I just don't. What's there to like? Well, except for my job. The sickness? The dinosaurs? You? I mean…"

Taylor was silent for a moment. He gave a nod, glancing away as he considered his next move. As much as he wanted his son to live in Terra Nova (after all, that had been the main reason he had joined the project himself), it was not all that he wanted. He wanted his son to like living there. He wanted his son to show amazement at the beautiful, lively world full of wonders. He had to figure out a way to make Lucas see how great Terra Nova was, he had to. Finally, he looked back at the boy. "You think there's nothing to like here?"

"That is what I just said," Lucas confirmed.

Suddenly, Taylor stood up. Lucas flinched ever so slightly, wondering if, in his father's eyes, the fact he was more‑or‑less sober made what he had said worse than his earlier drunken yelling. However, Taylor did not seem angry; in fact, he smiled. "Let's make a deal," the man said. "I understand that this world is not perfect, but I think you're being a little too negative. I tell you what, I'm going to show you one more thing that I have a feeling you might like. If you do, you'll stop complaining about this place and try and look at it in a more positive light. If you don't, I'll let you complain as much as your heart desires, and I won't say a thing. Do we have a deal?"

The youth hesitated. Was he supposed to be honest, or was he supposed to lie and agree? After all, there was no way either of them would hold up the deal. Lucas would never like it in Terra Nova, and Taylor would always complain about his complaining. 'Which makes you a hypocrite, by the way,' he thought but did not say. In the end, he told his father, "Okay."

"Come with me," Taylor demanded, stepping towards the open door.

"Come where?"

"Just follow me," the commander said, and with that he headed for the front door of the house.

Lucas sighed but stood up nevertheless. He walked out of the bedroom as his father walked out of the house. Taylor, however, did not go any farther. He stood in front of the house and waited for Lucas to join him there. "You're not going to throw me to the dinosaurs for what I said, are you?" Lucas joked.

Taylor chuckled. "No. Just come out here and then look up." 'If this doesn't amaze him, nothing will.'

"Look up?" the young man repeated as he stepped out through the door. "Why do I— WHOA!"

He had expected darkness. He had expected to find nothing but utter, vast darkness, stretching out as far as the eye could see, obscured merely by buildings and trees and lamps that illuminated the darkness and made its emptiness all the more obvious. A deep pit with no escape. A simple, single‑colored ceiling, which made the whole of outside feel like one room he was confined to. A black canvas artists had forgotten to paint on.

Except they had not forgotten. Not in Terra Nova. The canvas was there, but it was full of tiny, light dots, shimmering and glistening and twinkling like in the old lullaby. Everywhere, scattered throughout the whole sky. Some clustered together, like families talking and laughing and loving each other, some farther apart, like lone wolves enjoying the peace of solitude. There must have been hundreds of those tiny dots, maybe even thousands. In fact, there were so many of them that he found it hard to believe his eyes.

"Holy sheet, those are stars!" Lucas uttered, completely forgetting that his father did not approve of such language. "Right?" he asked—just to be sure—as he looked at the old man next to him.

Taylor frowned for a second, then his face softened. "Yeah," he confirmed. "Although you could have said it without that word…"

"Oh. Sorry," Lucas apologized, then gazed back up.

Taylor spoke up again, "You know, if you look over there…" He took hold of his son's shoulders and turned him; suddenly, Lucas found himself facing a giant, shining half‑orb levitating in the sky. "That's the moon," Taylor clarified, even though he figured Lucas realized so himself.

"That is huge!"

"Yeah, it is."

Lucas could do nothing but stare. It was incredible, really. He had never witnessed the sky looking like that. He had seen photos and paintings. He had even visited a planetarium. Nothing, though, nothing had done justice to the sight above him. The moon was way bigger than he had imagined it would be, and the stars… "There's so many…" he whispered to himself. He turned and turned again, wanting to take in every inch of the beauty. He turned and turned and took a step back and bumped into his father. The collision brought his mind back to earth. He took his eyes off the sky and apologized, "Sorry."

"No problem." Taylor chuckled.

"Is…" Lucas hesitated for a moment, then queried, "Is this what the sky looks like every night?"

"Well, the moon goes through phases, and some nights are more cloudy than tonight, but most nights, yes," the older man confirmed.

Lucas let out a breath, then gazed up one more time. All those light dots seemed so small to him, yet he knew they were anything but. Much as the allosaur he had seen the previous day, their apparent size was diminished by distance. All those teeny‑tiny, miniature, little spots, which looked no bigger than lightning bugs, were actually much, much, much bigger than any insect he had ever seen. Bigger than himself, actually. Bigger than the planet he was standing on.

For the first time in his life, he saw the vastness of the universe with his own eyes. He was not watching a picture of what the space beyond Earth's atmosphere was supposed to resemble. He was not watching a fake, holographic projection and being told that was what reality looked like. This time, he saw the true reality. He saw it and understood for the first time how immense the world's size was. And something about that understanding, something about it made him feel strange—not small as one might have expected, but big.

After all, how lucky was he? There were so many stars in the universe, and chances were there were even more planets. As far he knew, most of those planets were not inhabitable. On the two known planets that were (Earth and Terra Nova—which was, in a way, still Earth), most living things were plants and insects and other kinds of dumb, little animals that were too simple to appreciate the beauty above. And many of the only creatures that were capable of appreciating it would never have the opportunity to because the sight was no longer visible from Earth.

But, against all of those odds, he was given the chance to see it. He was given the chance to understand it. He was given the chance to marvel at it. He was not a rock on one of those barren, far-away planets. He was not a tree or an ant or a dinosaur. He was a human. What more than that, he was one of the mere couple of hundred humans out of the billions back on Earth who had been allowed to go to Terra Nova. Terra Nova, a place where something as ordinary as the night sky turned out to be the most stunning sight he had ever witnessed. And he had witnessed it. He had witnessed it because luck—or fate—had decided he was worthy of the experience.

The universe was so vast. There were so many stars and so many planets. So many rocks and plants and animals. And he was one of the few who could understand and appreciate it. One of the few who did.

He felt so big in that moment—and that was the exact feeling he had been hoping to find in Terra Nova.

Commander Taylor took a step toward his son. "So what do you think about this place now?" he queried.

Lucas did not say anything. He did not have to. The smile that appeared on his face answered the question for him.

The end

Author's note

ASDFGHJKLAKJFHFOAJDKAGAAAAH! It was so hard not to make Taylor and Lucas hug in this chapter! Like when Taylor told Lucas he was really not mad this time, or when they laughed after saying they agreed for the second time in their lives, or when Lucas liked the stars, it would have been so beautiful if they had hugged! (And then Taylor would tell Lucas he loved him and Lucas would come clean about why he was sent to Terra Nova but he would promise not to do it and Taylor would forgive him and they would be a happy family forever ashfgdfgkhljoiajeoxn!) But I kind of felt like their hug in Resistance would be less noteworthy if they hugged here too, so I held back on my desire to reconcile— I mean, make them embrace.

*clears throat* …As you can see, I'm really into the Taylor & Lucas relationship.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading The Second It Began, and special thanks to those kind enough to review. I hope you enjoyed the story; if you did, you might be interested in knowing that, even though TSIB is over, I'm thinking of posting more Lucas-centric stories. But it might take a while. I'm a very slow writer. So… stay tuned but not, like, too tuned…?

BTW I deleted a very short bit from this chapter where, after Lucas said he got the bottle from Boylan, Taylor actually remarked that Lucas didn't seem to be planning on giving it to him, and Lucas defended himself by saying that he was planning on it—until he remembered alcohol is bad, so, really, he was doing Taylor a favor by drinking it himself. :D I changed it because I felt like the version where Taylor says nothing suited the scene better.

Okay, I think that's all I had to say. Goodbye and have a nice day! :-)