Simon questioned Aura about her knowledge of the phantom to no avail. Telling him now wouldn't endanger him, but there was no reason to ruin his innocence when she'd won him the chance to lose it gradually. Eventually he gave up, either in acknowledgement of her stubbornness or out of courtesy for her hospitalization.

Normally being cooped up in a hospital room would have driven Aura nuts, but now that she'd completed her mission, she appreciated the rest. It was funny—having thought of this as the finish line, she hadn't questioned what would come after, but in reality this was the beginning she'd fought for. For now, all she could do was heal.

She kept her hair down in the hospital. Perhaps she'd keep it down when she was released.

Metis brought Athena to visit, and to Aura's surprise, stayed as long as they were allowed. Athena, for her part, had been overwhelmed by people's anxiety in the waiting room, but in Aura's hospital room Athena seemed content to sit and sketch the flowers she'd brought from her friend's garden.

"I thought you had work?" Aura asked Metis after Simon took Athena out for ice cream. "You don't have to feel obligated to watch me lay around."

"I want to be here," Metis said, rubbing a thumb against Aura's hand where she clasped it. She shifted in her chair. "I haven't been…very present, have I?"

Aura's throat felt dry. Less present than you know.

"Well, you're here now. No use dwelling on the past."

"Still…"

"Metis." Aura squeezed Metis's hand. "I've just wanted to see you smile. That's all."

The corners of Metis's lips lifted—a delicate gesture, but real. "I think I can manage that."

They both could, finally.

xxxxxxx

As soon as the hospital released Aura, she returned to work. Most of the space center thought she was nuts, and told her so. Those who mattered didn't, as they were workaholics, robots, or Athena, who thought the hospital took an awful long time to fix Aura and that Metis would have done a better job. Then and there Aura vowed that she and Metis would sit down with her soon and talk about the difference between people and robots, and how some things couldn't be fixed—though Aura herself knew otherwise.

Still, despite undoing her family's tragedies, she couldn't repair the damage they did to her. In the first weeks she gave her loved ones extra attention, taking time off of all-nighters to stargaze with Metis, showing Athena how to tend to the robots and even taking her and her friend to a zoo, visiting Simon's baby hawk and sitting through his ramblings about proper bird care. Throughout it all, the wound in her abdomen ached, reminding her of what she'd gone through to earn this.

Yet, engaging in others after all this time proved difficult. While she and Metis lay together and read, Aura felt restless, her hands itching without something to fix or a murderer to punish. She couldn't believe the woman next to her would stay—like stardust, Aura expected her to sparkle before dispersing out of Aura's reach. Aura began to fall into moods, and then, fearing another incident of abuse, to keep her distance so her years of suffering couldn't harm Metis. This backfired, as still being apart from Metis worsened Aura's frustration.

As they had throughout her ordeal, her emotions began to shut down as if to protect the unit from overheating. She didn't fully register it until one night while helping Athena catch up on her homework.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to," Athena said. Looking up from Athena's science text, Aura saw her chewing her pencil. She'd long-since wrecked the eraser, but Aura had scanned most of Athena's work so the girl could do it digitally.

"Aura Blackquill doesn't do anything she doesn't want to, believe me." Her bravado, of course, didn't affect Athena, who started tapping the pencil against the desk before dropping it after a particularly loud tap.

"You didn't want to pick me up from school, or help plan the space museum, or go to the theater with Mom." Hearing these facts stated so simply might have made Aura blush were she of a different disposition. As it was, she examined her nails.

"Hm. Well, adults don't always get to do what they want."

"Yeah, but it…" Athena rubbed the pencil against her cheek, her lips moving silently as if trying out words. "It sounds different. Like you don't care."

That would have sent Aura's hand slamming down on the desk if it weren't for all the self-control she'd struggled to develop around Athena. Would someone who didn't care have gone through hell and back?

When her indignation died down, she had to admit that Athena had a point. Increasingly she found herself going through the daily motions without true connection. It was as she'd feared: she didn't know how to shake off the sense that everything would be erased, that she'd leap from this time and leave the world around her behind. While she acted on feelings, it was akin to a robot acting on an artificial heart.

Or a phantom.

The thought gave her chills one evening when they all sat watching a samurai movie. She excused herself—not difficult, as they knew she didn't care for their movies—and wandered into the lab, sitting with a wince as pain shot up her side. Truthfully, she welcomed the sensation as a distraction.

Did that phantom mind physical pain? The memory of their body hitting the ground surfaced, and without thinking, Aura rolled her chair over to Metis's workstation to pull up the profile. Simon held the physical copy, but Metis created a digital backup before he took the phantom to trial.

Without reading the document, she closed it and pursed her lips. Privacy meant far more to Metis than to her. Besides, what was wrong with her, comparing that monster to a robot when her children held more heart than they ever would?

She leaned back in her chair, swiveling absently in a movement reminiscent of Athena. Before long, her wound strained and she halted.

The data remained in the computer, taunting her. No, she thought. That's over with.

Was it? As far as her family knew, it hadn't even happened. She'd told the truth to Athena and Simon before, but she'd erased those memories, leaving them happier people. Metis—the one person Aura wanted to reach more than anyone—never knew, and for her sake, Aura planned to never tell her. She let Metis comment on how recovering from her injury aged Aura with little more than a joke in response, let Metis kiss her goodnight without knowing what that simple gesture meant.

Metis footsteps fell so quietly that Aura wouldn't have heard them had she not still expected to be the lab's sole employee. Aura swiveled quickly, glad she'd already closed the file.

"Sorry," she said. "A bit samurai'd out for the night."

Metis's solemn expression told Aura that this wasn't a time for jokes, not that that usually stopped Aura. "Aura, may I speak with you?"

The phrase gave Aura dread, but she agreed. Metis sat in her own desk chair, facing Aura and smoothing her kimono. "Ever since before the launch, you've been retreating. After the phantom's capture, you were more affectionate than usual, but the spike dropped quickly. That's normal after a traumatic event, but…I'm afraid you're more distant than you were before."

All fair observations, but as always when faced with Dr. Cykes, ace psychologist, Aura found herself getting defensive. "Your point?"

"Aura, it's worrying behavior. You…"

"If you feel like I'm ignoring you, just say so." Aura regretted snapping as soon as she did it, but being under Metis's microscope made her antsy, and besides…Metis had always been a distant person, even before she went somewhere from which Aura shouldn't have been able to retrieve her. Who was she to get on Aura for it?

"I'm only concerned for you. I fear you may have undergone trauma from your shooting that isn't being treated."

Aura laughed. "The shooting? That's the least traumatic thing I've been through in the last—"

She clamped her mouth shut. Worry painted Metis's features, making Aura wish she could reset conversations. "Aura? What else has happened?"

All of it came back to her in a flash—Metis's limp body, the stench of Simon's blood, Athena's sobs in her bedroom—forcing her to smack a hand on the table to ground herself. She didn't realize she was hyperventilating until Metis grabbed her chin and directed Aura's gaze to her mouth, which demonstrated breaths. When Aura regained control of herself, she straightened.

"Sorry," she said. "My wiring must be faulty."

Metis didn't smile. Aura's smirk dropped.

"Look, Metis, you'll be happier not knowing."

"Happier leaving someone I love to cope on her own?" Metis's tongue tripped over the word; Aura's breath faltered. She could probably count the amount of times they'd said it on one hand, at least out loud, in that form.

One or both of them reached, and their fingers intertwined in the space between the desk chairs.

She'd wanted more than to save Metis. She wanted to be with her, in a way that went behind working with her until sundown and sleeping beside her at night. More than the sparks of wires connecting, more than a simple wrench could fix.

She blew out. "Metis, you've noticed my face."

"Yes, it's quite a pretty one."

Aura rolled her eyes, her lips twitching despite herself as she prodded Metis's hand. "You know what I mean."

"Forgive me—it's being prematurely aged by stress. I wouldn't be surprised if your hair starts graying."

It already had, but there was no point in mentioning that. "I…do you remember me saying I wanted to find a formula to bend space-time?"

Metis nodded, then after a pause, her eyes widened. "You…? Are you?"

"From the future, yes. It's been quite a ride, I'm sure you can imagine."

"Time travel," Metis breathed. "You really succeeded at it?"

"You're not skeptical?"

"Of course not. I'm sure you're capable of achieving any technological advances you put your mind to."

The flattery, spoken in such a matter-of-fact voice, would have made Aura assume she was being mocked if it were anyone else. As it was, the praise pleased her enough that she almost forgot their situation. "Yeah, it was pretty brilliant. I'll tell you all about it later. More importantly…"

"Your reason…?"

Aura looked at Metis, at her bearing, serene even now. She looked at how perfectly a traditionally dressed woman fit into the futuristic space lab, how its pinks and purples that the two of them picked out complemented Metis's coloring. She looked at eyes that held a twinkle currently shadowed by concern, at hair slightly disheveled from the day's end, and at lips Aura wanted to kiss instead of having this conversation.

"You died," Aura said. Tears welled in her eyes without warning. She took off her goggles and pressed to prevent the flow.

What could one say to that? Metis squeezed Aura's hand. "Oh, Aura."

"They…they thought Simon did it."

"For heaven's sakes!"

"He was a bloody idiot, sacrificing himself—"

"For whom?"

"That's not the point, the point is that—"

"Why?"

Due to Athena, Metis's voice almost never raised beyond a certain level, but now it came forward with a force that made Aura snap to attention. She looked away, the rush of release diminished by shame.

"He thought Athena did it. We both did," she said.

Aura didn't look at Metis until Metis withdrew her hand. Her expression looked more horrified than any version of her Aura had ever seen.

"My daughter?"

"He had a compelling reason, I suppose, though he never shared it with me. He planned to take whatever memory haunted him to the grave, not that I stuck around long enough for…"

Metis stood. From the anger on her face, Aura could tell she'd stopped listening.

"I trusted you not to take a joke this far, but now you're simply talking rubbish! My pupil would never accuse Athena of—"

"But you don't doubt I would?"

"You…you have the tendency to misdirect negative feelings," Metis mumbled, her cheeks flushing. That the statement was true didn't relieve Aura's indignation. She'd poured out secrets she'd never meant to reveal, and on top of that, Metis would accept time travel and her own death, would accept Aura's pettiness, but not the idea that Simon would slight her precious princess?

"Listen, Aura, I didn't mean to accuse you of…Whatever-whatever it is you went through, I'm sure it's jumbling…"

Metis fell silent. Aura glanced at the screen on Metis's desk.

"Perform a reading on me. Then you should be able to—" To prove I'm not a ghost."To tell whether or not I'm lying."

After a moment, Metis nodded. Aura slid her chair aside and Metis sat back down, already masking her distress as she started up the mood matrix with a professional ease Aura admired.

"Tell your story from the beginning," Metis said, her voice both firm and calming.

Aura leaned back and hugged her arms as she recounted the tale—Metis's death, Simon's incarceration, the seven years leading up to his execution. Sadness and anger dominated throughout, until a small amount of happiness registered upon her completion of the time machine. At that point, Metis interrupted for the first time.

"When you say you finished it, you feel happy…"

"Of course. I was going to stop Simon's execution and see you again. Or get myself killed if worse came to worse, which wouldn't have been so bad at that point, all things considered." She shrugged. Metis didn't react to the morbidity, instead tapping the screen.

"Yet you also felt sadness. Not fear of failure—just sadness. Why?"

Aura tilted her head and stared at the clutter on her desk, straining to remember back that far. "I think it was because of the robots. I was saying goodbye to them, after all, even though they'd still be here."

Metis nodded, her eyes soft. "I see."

"That wasn't all, though." Aura hesitated; this was one detail Metis never had to know, and would certainly disapprove of, but laying everything on the table would be pointless if she left anything out. "I also mistreated them, back then. I had a lot of anger I didn't know how else to vent, and they…they reminded me of what I'd lost. That's probably why…"

"You blamed Athena." Metis controlled her voice, but Aura knew the effort in doing so betrayed Metis's displeasure.

"Yeah." Aura rushed into her explanation of that. If Metis would hate her for anything, it would be this, so there was no sense in dancing around the point. Metis watched the screen the entire time, but apparently none of Aura's emotions contradicted her story, a fact that seemed responsible for Metis clenching the hands folded in her lap.

Upon reaching the discovery of the crime scene, the mood matrix extracted and displayed images of what Aura saw—Simon cradling Metis's body and the bloody katana. Metis inhaled sharply, and Aura hastened to move on, unable to tear her own gaze from a scene she'd never wanted to revisit.

Before she could, Metis interrupted. "Amidst your grief and surprise, you felt a bit of happiness…?"

Aura flinched, aware of how that must look. "I don't remember feeling happy. I remember wanting to die, to be frank."

"Yet you registered some joy—no, relief. Can you repeat the last piece?"

If it hadn't been Metis's technology, Aura would have written it off as a malfunction, but when she repeated the segment the truth immediately became obvious. "When you died again, I realized the princess couldn't have killed you."

Metis touched a finger to the screen. "There, the green icon lit up when you said…"

"Princess."

For the first time since the session began, Metis looked away from the matrix and met Aura's eyes. Relief shone in Metis's own.

"Of course I didn't really want it to be her, Metis."

Metis nodded, opening her mouth as if to speak as the mother or perhaps the lover before the psychologist took over, turning back to the screen. "You may continue."

Sadness and anger continued to dominate as Aura described her discovery of Simon's mission and her subsequent roping him into hers, with happiness at his support. Metis's hand flew to her mouth when the image of his corpse appeared. Having intended to resist touching her until they'd settled all this, Aura reached on impulse to squeeze her shoulder. "Let's move on," she said quietly.

"No," Metis said. "You…you had to live through this."

"That doesn't mean you have to linger on the replay."

"I'm a psychologist, Aura. I can handle it."

Aura gave Metis's shoulder a quick rub before withdrawing. After a few deep breaths, Metis lowered her hand and scrolled through the data. "Slight relief?"

"You were alive," Aura said. Metis parted her lips, closed them, nodded.

The sadness meter pulsed at a low level before spiking every few moments. "You're not going to comment on that?" Aura asked, pointing.

"It's no mystery. Shock and trauma overloaded your nervous system—not surprising." The casual way Metis stated it reassured Aura.

The happiness at saving Metis quickly disappeared as Aura continued on through her arrest and incarceration. Metis's face betrayed nothing at the images of herself deteriorating. "That's how Simon looked," she said.

"Nope. He was worse. Seven years plus, you know, he's not as much of a looker to begin with."

Metis didn't seem to know whether to smile or frown. Instead she asked, "What of Athena?"

"Relatives overseas."

Something in Metis's eyes died. "They took her."

"Not our Athena," Aura said firmly. "She's watching a movie a few rooms away."

The sound of the mood icons pulsing filled the pause along with Metis's finger scratching the edge of the desk. "When you say 'our'…"

Aura rubbed at a stain on her glove. "I just meant…" She crossed her arms, her legs. She hated stuttering, hated apologies, but they'd have to get this topic over with. "I considered doing every horrible thing to her you can't imagine. I don't deserve the girl."

Metis's jaw tightened. "But do you want to?"

The question caught Aura off guard in a way a slap to the face wouldn't have. "I…it's not like I ever got a chance to actually…"

Metis closed her eyes. "I shouldn't have asked."

For years Aura attached so much anger and shame to Athena that thinking about her now was difficult. When she strained to move past that, other feelings surfaced—fondness toward Athena's interactions with the robots, amusement at her out-of-the-box thinking, their shared sorrow after Simon's death and Metis's arrest, and perhaps most of all, the way she could never hide from Athena no matter how many worlds she ran away from. Either way, though, there was only one answer she could give.

"Metis," Aura said softly, "she's yours. Of course I want to share her."

Metis raised a hand as if to reach for her but rubbed her own eyes instead. Her posture collapsed. "How am I meant to process any of this? My family's been torn apart thrice, and I wasn't there."

"You were there. Just not…"

"Not this me."

"It wasn't this them, either."

"But it was this you."

There wasn't anything Aura could say to that. She'd long-since known she'd been upgraded—downgraded—so many times that her system might not be compatible with the others'.

"Anyway, as far as the princess goes, I know I'm shameless, but even I wouldn't ask for your forgiveness."

Metis's jaw clenched. "It's her place to choose to forgive you or not, not mine."

"That's—Metis, she's never going to know." And it's your opinion I care about, she thought, but she wouldn't have said it and no doubt didn't need to.

"You don't know that for sure. Though I can't say whether keeping her in the dark is for the best or not," Metis said, sorrow in her voice. Aura couldn't say, either, and the mood matrix's sound once again took over, the image still on Metis in jail while the frowning icon stretched its full length.

"Should I have kept you in the dark?" Aura asked. Metis shook her head emphatically.

"Bottling such intense trauma is psychologically damaging. I'm glad you asked for a therapy session."

Something in Aura's chest went cold. She moistened her lips. "Is that Dr. Cykes talking, or my lover?"

Metis met her eyes, looking for a moment to be lost, maybe even scared. Her hand flew to her neck as she averted her gaze. "That was Dr. Cykes. I…" She flicked a piece of hair near her ear that had come loose from her ponytail. "I would never want you to carry such a burden alone. I want to be there to support you. I want…"

Want. A forbidden word for them—for Metis, who lived to serve her daughter's needs, and for Aura, who'd put her own desires aside in respect of that. Again Metis met Aura's gaze, and this time, the longing there made Aura's heart thump.

"I want to be a part of all of your…of you."

It was a wonder that Aura's voice remained calm, that it didn't come out in a rush of breath. "I want the same thing."

They stared, both (Aura was sure of that) torn between desire and everything they still had to work through. The desire won as they both moved to stand; Aura was faster, and Metis sat back while Aura bent to kiss her. Ten years—more—of desperation drove Aura, but Metis grabbed her sides just as tightly as Aura gripped her shoulders, causing Aura to stumble back when the pain in her wound resurfaced.

"I'm sorry," Metis said, cheeks flushed. "I'd forgotten…"

"Doesn't matter," Aura said, wincing as she bent again. Thanks to her damned injury, Metis's brief lack of inhibitions vanished, and her hold on Aura's arms was careful, her mouth gentle until Aura's passion caused it to yield. The matrix continued its infernal beeping while Aura rested her knee on the chair, determined to get cozier. Unfortunately, they usually only touched like this in bed, where they didn't have to deal with things like maneuvering in swivel chairs, and so Aura didn't anticipate the wheels sliding out from under them, depositing them both on the floor.

After their surprise passed, they both laughed, loud fits that ended with Aura clutching her abdomen. Metis helped her up before settling back into her own chair, to Aura's disappointment. Coughing, Metis fiddled with the collar of her kimono.

"To be honest, I still have reservations. It's not that I don't…but Aura, there's so much to wrap my mind around. I know you, but do I?"

"There's a lot you don't," Aura admitted, running a finger along the chair's arm and wishing it was Metis's instead. "If you want, you can analyze my reactions to everything in the past few weeks. You'll find I've been more detached than I let on. Maybe you'll even want to reprogram me." Metis shook her head and turned off the matrix.

"I've only wanted to gain some understanding of what you've been through in my absence; I've no need to pry into your feelings since then. And I'd never suggest a human being needed reprogramming."

"Thanks, but…Metis, I'm serious. Who knows, if you made a profile of me lately, it might even resemble that phantom's." Aura kept her tone casual, but her gaze fell on the mask on the wall. Metis always said a Noh mask could turn an average human into a phantom. While she hadn't quite worn a mask, Aura spent years constructing herself to hide her experiences, her self.

"Aura, look at me. Don't for a second compare yourself to my killer. They destroyed me—you saved me. Not just me—you kept Athena from being orphaned and Simon from jail, or worse. You've done much for our family, all while suffering deeply."

"You give me too much credit. I hurt your daughter and abused the robots."

"I know. I can't pretend to be all right with that," Metis said. "And we'll discuss it more later. But as far as your psychology goes, emotion is an involuntary, complex thing. Ponco and Clonco may not 'feel' emotion the way humans do, but they still provide companionship to those who need it."

Aura caught the emphasis in her voice and understood. For Metis, who spent most of her life in the lab, the robots and Aura were among the only companionship she had—companionship she needed.

A lump caught in Aura's throat. In all the time she'd spent saving Metis, she'd forgotten how much she'd longed for Metis to needher.

"I never imagined," Metis continued, her voice wavering, "That someone might care enough to warp fate for me."

"After all you've done to help the princess, it was only fair someone do the same for you. Besides, it wasn't like I did it out of altruism."

"Then…?"

"I did it because I had to. Because I couldn't stand being without you." Her mouth twitched. "Predictable, huh?"

Metis folded her hands in her lap, clearly trying not to be overcome. "I…I would have done the same, in your position."

The lump returned. Aura swallowed, wetting her lips. "For the princess?"

"For you."

Even hearing the words, Aura could scarcely believe them, but she trusted Metis to at least mean them to be true. That was as much as she thought about it, because Metis was moistening her own lips, and this time when Aura stood, Metis rose to meet her halfway.

"The children are probably going to check in on us any minute," Metis said somewhat breathlessly while Aura rediscovered the warmth of her neck.

"We're not exactly a secret, are we?"

"No, but…" That was all Metis could say, as she seemed to be realizing the same thing Aura had a couple lives ago. They still had distance and problems to resolve, but when it came to this, there was no reason to resist, no worth in dancing around each other when death could claim them at any time.

Metis stroked Aura's hair, pressing Aura against her. It was all the invitation she needed.