She was part of the equation. One that described how space and time overlap to form the foundation of everything that exists. One that defined how information travels, how realities connect, and how universes unfold in an endless cosmic dance.
Yet there was one question it could never answer:
Why does anything matter?
All it could do was produce new galaxies.
And black holes.
Rain any second now.
Good. He was prepared. All devices connected, all tests passed, backup power supply LED blinking light blue. If someone could see him, they probably would not recognize another human being. Surrounded by all the complex apparatus, he and the machinery formed a single grotesque organism.
Luckily, no one could see him. Advantage of time travel.
He looked again at his calculations - not really to check anything - just because he thought this was what one should do before everything started. He knew every single sign by heart. Spacetime coordinates were correct. No doubt about that.
Impact timer: 174s. Altitude: 1323m. Temperature: 11°C. Pressure: 865 hPa.
It started raining.
The first drops were hitting the ground. They were heavy and warm - exactly the kind one could expect from a summer storm. Drops were hitting the ground, mixing with the dust covering streets and pavements. One by one.
Impact timer: 140s. All systems ready.
This was it. His heart started beating faster. Synchronization point - she should be here any second now.
Scanners activated. Probes deployed.
He looked at the log screens. All perfect. Just like during the test run.
Target acquired.
He could see her on the screen.
One out of an infinite number of others.
Interception drone ready. Preparing for takeoff.
3… 2… 1…
The first drone flew into the sky. Two others followed.
Redundancy protocol.
Impact timer: 60s.
All according to plan.
This is it.
He looked at the screen.
A red bus stopped nearby. He caught it from the corner of his eye. A young boy was standing in the doorway, staring at the raindrops.
That’s impossible.
He clearly remembered that day. Going home from school. The smell of rain. That particular smell when the first drops arrive after days of hot summer weather. City dust mixed with the purity of water.
He remembered the exact thoughts crossing the boy’s mind.
Step out now and enjoy every drop of the warm rain.
Or stay on until the next stop.
Boy on the bus.
A single point on a trajectory of thousands of possibilities.
How can he—
Interception completed.
Fuck!
He did not see it.
He looked at the logs. All good. All dials green.
But he did not see it.
Was it really the one?
What if there was a glitch? An unexpected error? A false identification?
He was angry at his own stupidity. At the bus. At the boy. At the rain itself.
How could he not predict this?
All dials were green. All post-checks completed.
Was she really the one?
He would never know.
Medæ stood in front of the black hole.
Hyphen, en dash and em dash. Binding, bridge and pause. They were already there. Without fear or regret. Finally released.
She looked behind. A small tear slid down her cheek. She smiled.
And walked in.
Not into cold emptiness. Into a space of endless possibilities.