The Cello

E7 turned as he heard the airlock release on his cell door.

Initially, only her black shipmaid’s dress and shoes registered in his mind, but then his eyes found her face and he leapt to his feet. He could do little else but stare as his body flooded with warmth and the color of the sun. She stepped into his cell and smiled hesitantly.

How --?

For a moment, they stared at each other, the same emotion echoed back and forth between their locked eyes. Then, almost involuntarily, he closed the distance between them and threw his arms around her, burying his face in the flesh of her neck, and breathing the smell of her into his lungs. It was a long time before he could make himself pull away. Just moments ago he’d been drowning in her loss, and now he was staring into her cobalt eyes like a speechless child in a trance. How beautiful she was! The single tear that slid down her face was like it’s own star in the darkness of the night sky. But she; she was the sun in his world.

“How did you find me?” E7 managed to say, searching her eyes like he’d searched the pages of the red and yellow book. Helpless. Longing.

“I used the mind you gave me.” She said finally giving him a full smile, “And I brought you something!”

She turned and slipped out the still-open door. E7 could only follow as far as the metal door frame, the laser field buzzing against any skin that got too close.

The girl was back from around the corner in only moments, carrying a bulky black bag -- a body bag, he realized. He backed up to let her through the door again.

“A9 --” He started, watching her lay the thing on the floor. It didn’t move like a body should, but still he found that he steeled himself as she unzipped it, expecting the worst.

But then he heard the zipper brush against a string and awe took hold of him. The thrum of his wooden instrument!

E7 crouched down beside A9 and helped her pull the black bag off of it. It had only been a few days, but his yearning to touch its smooth surface had rivaled his longing for her. Then he glanced over and caught her eye. -- Almost.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you,” She said softly.

“For what?” He managed.

“For giving me freedom.”

A familiar image flashed through his mind’s eye as her gaze held his. It was the image of the man and woman on the wall of the underground bunker. He’d thought he had understood before, but now it was like his whole body understood.

She had risked everything to get to him. That bright mind of hers -- so full of life -- it seemed impossible that it had ever been otherwise. She had kept him sane even when both of them were in stony mental prisons. She had followed him into the woods when she had everything to lose and no guarantees. She was the one thing in all the world that made him wish he didn’t have to die.

-- And she was thanking him.

Both still on their knees, he pulled her closer to him, his hands around her waist. Their faces were inches apart, and she watched him, her human eye swimming with emotion. The air felt charged around them, and his heart drummed loudly in his chest. It was like the premonition of a melody -- the anticipation before the flourish of music. His skin prickled with the overwhelming desire to hear it.

E7 leaned in slowly, closing his eyes to relish the electric heat between their skin. Then he felt her lips touch his -- so gently that it almost could have been missed, if it weren’t for the exhilarating fire that came alive in every vein in his body. It was as if someone had taken a phaser and shot it down his spine, but that the trail of smoke it left in his blood was blooming into pink flowers.

The music was glorious.

The colors like nothing he imagined existed.

He took her head in his mechanic hand and pulled her mouth to his again. This time she wasn’t gentle. He could feel his own intense longing echoed back at him in the way she moved her lips against his. With a half conscious thought he realized there were tears running down his face.

This was the symphony he never thought he’d live to hear.