The Distance Between Breaths

The city of Lyris floated above the planet like a held breath. Its lower decks were wrapped in mist from the warm oceans below, while its upper spires caught the cold light of a blue sun. From the balcony outside her quarters, Senna Kade watched transport lights drift in slow arcs. The air hummed with gravity stabilizers and distant engines, a constant reminder that nothing here was truly still. She rested her arms on the railing and felt the faint tremor of the structure beneath her, steady and reliable, unlike the tightness inside her chest.

She had lived on Lyris for seven years, long enough for the sky bridges and echoing halls to feel familiar, yet she still felt like a visitor. As a xenolinguist, she spent her days translating fragments of thought left behind by extinct civilizations. Ghost voices. Traces of meaning without living speakers. Sometimes she wondered if that was why she felt so detached from the people around her. It was easier to commune with the dead than risk misunderstanding the living.

Her wrist console chimed softly. Incoming arrival confirmed. Pilot transfer complete. The name attached to the message made her breath catch. Joren Vale. She had read his profile weeks ago when command informed her that a long range explorer would be assigned to assist with the Aurelian Artifact. She had not expected the subtle sense of anticipation that now curled through her, unwelcome and undeniable.

The artifact rested at the heart of Lyris, suspended in a containment chamber like a captured star. It was older than any known culture, a smooth obsidian sphere etched with faint lines that shifted when observed. Senna stood before it the next morning, the chamber lights low and reverent. Data panels surrounded her, projecting incomplete translations that hovered like questions in the air.

Footsteps approached, unhurried but confident. She turned to see Joren entering the chamber, his flight jacket tucked under one arm. He looked different from his file image. Older around the eyes, as if space had carved patience into him. His gaze took in the artifact first, then her.

You must be Senna Kade, he said. His voice was warm, grounding. I was told you are the only one who can make this thing talk.

She smiled despite herself. It already talks. We just do not understand the language yet.

He stepped closer to the containment field, careful. I have spent years listening to engines and stars. I am curious what a silent object has to say.

As they worked, hours slipped by unnoticed. Senna explained the patterns she had identified, emotional resonances embedded in the artifact structure. Joren listened intently, asking thoughtful questions. He spoke of his travels, of empty systems where the stars felt lonely. She found herself opening up in small ways, sharing doubts she rarely voiced. The chamber felt warmer, charged with a shared focus that blurred the line between professional and personal.

Over the following days, their collaboration deepened. They met in observation lounges, in quiet data rooms, sometimes walking the long curved corridors of Lyris while discussing theories. Senna became acutely aware of Joren presence, of the way he matched his pace to hers, of the pauses in conversation that felt less like awkwardness and more like possibility.

One evening, a storm rolled across the ocean below, sending waves of energy through the city stabilizers. The lights flickered. Senna found Joren in the external garden, a space filled with carefully cultivated trees anchored against artificial gravity. Rain pattered against the transparent dome overhead, a sound both alien and comforting.

You look like someone avoiding their quarters, he said gently.

She laughed softly. I could say the same.

They sat on a stone bench, listening to the rain. Senna felt the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing closer. I am not good at this, she admitted. Letting people close. Words are easier when they belong to someone else.

Joren nodded. Space teaches you to value distance. But it also teaches you what absence feels like. He met her eyes. I am not asking for anything. Just honesty.

The artifact responded that night. As the storm peaked, the obsidian sphere emitted a low resonance that echoed through the chamber. Senna and Joren rushed to it, adrenaline cutting through exhaustion. The etched lines glowed faintly, rearranging into patterns Senna had never seen.

It is reacting to emotional input, she realized aloud. To us.

Joren looked at her, understanding dawning. Maybe it was built to connect, not to be studied in isolation.

They made a decision that skirted protocol. Senna placed her hands on the containment field. Joren mirrored her on the opposite side. They focused not on analysis but on feeling, allowing their emotions to surface without defense. Senna felt her loneliness, her longing to be understood. She sensed Joren memories of drifting between stars, of returning to ports that never felt like home.

The artifact pulsed brighter, its resonance harmonizing with their heartbeats. Images flooded Senna mind. A civilization that believed understanding required shared vulnerability. That connection was a bridge built from openness. Tears slipped down her cheeks as meaning crystallized.

The aftermath was quiet and overwhelming. Command reviewed the data, impressed and cautious. New guidelines were issued. The artifact was no longer a mystery but a teacher. Senna and Joren found themselves under scrutiny, their closeness noted but not forbidden.

They stood again on Senna balcony weeks later. The city lights shimmered. The storm had passed, leaving clear skies. Joren was scheduled to depart soon, his ship needed elsewhere. The thought pressed heavy between them.

I do not know where I belong, Senna said finally. Lyris feels like a place I pass through.

Joren took her hand, a simple gesture that sent warmth through her. Belonging does not have to be a place. Sometimes it is a person you choose to return to.

She leaned into him, allowing the closeness. The future remained uncertain. Distance would test them. Fear would resurface. But as she listened to his steady breathing, she felt something settle inside her. A willingness to try.

Above them, the blue sun rose higher, casting light across the floating city. In the space between their breaths, Senna felt the artifact truth echo quietly. Connection was not the absence of distance, but the courage to cross it.