Ant and Four 16 - A Child's Dreams
by Winter

Alone, adrift, eventually the Fourtitude passed out of the galaxy's centre. Away from the deadly radiation that had killed it. Without engines, without electricity, without life support, the dark and the cold of deep space filled the little ferry's passenger areas.

Inside, tucked underneath a blanket on the couch, clutching a heart-shaped stuffed toy to his chest, lay Four. His robot body was frozen through and through, his batteries flat, the circuits and wires and databanks that had held his memories and his personality were all off-line. He was, basically, a solid block of ice.

Yet...

Somewhere deep inside his mind, on a level he could not have explained even with all his wits about him, a kernel of consciousness still stirred.

Four was dreaming.

* * * * * *

There was water, all around him. Not chilly-cold like a dip in the ocean, not hug-warm like a shower. It was just... there. Holding him up. There was a moment of panic; he couldn't swim! Had never learned to, even though Ant had tried and tried to teach him. His robot body simply wasn't buoyant enough. Even when they went to a pool, he had to wear his bright orange floaties.

Yet there he was, suspended in this strange ocean. Held up by... well, by nothing. He was naked, and he was alone. He couldn't sense his other self, the Fourtitude's onboard computer. To be honest, his true self. The proxy body he had inhabited for months now was really only an extension of the ferry. It had been built for a sick child, but sadly, Theo had died about a year after he got it. Sometimes Four felt sad for him, and wished he could have known him. Wanted to tell him what had happened to his body. How Ant had bought it, and got it adapted to fit the mind of a computer. How it had changed Four's life and made him happy beyond belief.

Ant...

Four's entire body jerked, and he tried to turn around but was unable to get purchase in the water. Where was Ant? He tried to call out, but only bubbles escaped his mouth. But wait... he didn't need to breathe in order to talk. His voicebox was electronic. Something was odd. Something was off. Where was Ant? He didn't want to be alone anymore, he wanted his friend. His dearest friend.

But Ant was gone, wasn't he?

Four had left him behind, and gone away on his own. A stupid quest that had failed and Ant wasn't with him and how could he ever have thought that he could do something on his own? He wanted to cry but how do you cry underwater and why was he in the water in the first place? His mind felt fractured. Fragmented. He couldn't think properly.

In this unknown featureless seascape, he began to drift away.

* * * * * *

He had been walking this gravelled path for what felt like hours. Not that his legs ever got tired, but he did use up oxygen to keep his batteries charged. So, when he reached the crest of the hill, he was panting slightly. A sense of excitement spread through his circuits, triggering a feeling like tingling inside. Butterflies, a human would have said. Ate too many worms, Ant would have said. What was the machine equivalent?

Four didn't know.

But he was excited about something. What, he couldn't quite remember. He thought that, maybe, he was about to meet someone. Not Ant, because then he would have been all giddy, barely able to keep from squealing with joy.

The far side of the hill was a gentle slope. Where the ground levelled out, the path met a paved road, and there was a bus stop sign. Next to it, stood a person. Four couldn't see who, because for some reason his eyes wouldn't zoom. Usually he could read something like a street sign from a kilometre away.

He started running, hoping that the bus didn't come to take them away before he got there. It didn't. When Four slowed down, catching his breath, he saw that it was a young woman. She turned to him, and smiled.

"I know you."

"Y-you do?" Four frowned. She was pretty, with golden brown eyes, dark curly hair and deeply tanned skin, and she was wearing casual clothes. As if she had just been to a beach or something. "I don't think I know you."

"But you do." She reached over and touched the side of his face. Her hand felt warm. "I was too little to remember, but I've seen pictures of me, in your arms. Momma says you were scared of me at first."

"Sh-Sheila?"

"Yeah!" She beamed. "I've been thinking about you a lot, since that day. About your story, and how you managed to truly make a life for yourself. It's inspirational."

"But it's not." Four stepped back. He didn't want her to touch him, didn't feel worthy of being touched. "Because I threw it all away, didn't I? I had my life, then I went and left it behind."

"Your life is always with you, Four. It doesn't lie in one place or with one person. And if you lost it, you can always rebuild it."

"But I'm dead, there's no rebuilding from that."

"If you're dead, then who am I talking to?"

"Sheila..." Four hesitated. "Who are you, really? When I met you, you were a baby, you can't have grown up already?"

"Maybe I'm just a memory, that grew up inside your mind."

"That sounds weird."

She laughed, but Four did not join in. He felt confused. How could a human person know about his life and what to do with it. Life... He scoffed. What a joke! He never had been alive, and yet he still died! It didn't seem fair. The two of them stood in silence for a while, then the bus arrived. Sheila waved it on, and it didn't stop.

"Weren't you going?"

"Yeah, but I can wait for the next one. I wanna talk to you some more."

"I don't know what to talk about. I don't even know where we are."

"I think you do. And I think you know that neither of us is really here at all."

"I'm dreaming..." He sighed. "This is a not-memory. Because back in the real reality you're a baby and I'm dead and Ant's gone."

"So?"

"So?" Four raised his voice. "All of this is nonsense! If I'm dreaming then how can I be dead, and... can't I just dream of Ant instead?"

"Because you need to know something about yourself, something that Ant could never tell you."

"Ant knows everything about me."

"Not everything. Because you never told him, did you?"

"Don't..."

"You were afraid that he would laugh, that he would call you silly."

"Stop."

"You were afraid that, even though he kept saying you were alive and had real feelings, he'd say you couldn't possibly feel..."

"No, please!"

"And most of all, you were afraid that he wouldn't feel the same." Her golden eyes softened, while a sob racked through Four. "He said he would always be your friend."

"No..."

"But what if friend isn't enough?"

"Get on your bus, please! Just go and leave me alone. I don't have Ant anymore so nothing matters anyway. I don't even have me anymore, 'cause the Fourtitude died, and it was me and the me that was left behind went to bed. To die."

"You're rambling." She laughed again. "And you clearly haven't died yet, because you conjured up an adult me just so I could tell you so."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"You can stay here, and hope that a better dream comes along."

"Or...?"

"Come with me, on the bus, and go look for one."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

And just like that, the next bus came to a stop, and the doors hissed open. Sheila got on, while Four hesitated. Stay where it was safe but where there was nothing and no one? Go to where who knew what might await? Not realising that he was copying Ant, he took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly. Then he climbed up the steps, and scanned his money card.

The door closed, and the bus left. The landscape lay still, once the last of the dust had settled. Only one thing remained, floating around unseen, unheard. A question, that hadn't been answered.

What was it... he needed... to know?

The dream, now that it was over, faded.

* * * * * *

"Switch to the local news channel."

"Yes, sir!"

He only had one passenger this time, but it mattered little. One or many, it was his duty to bring them safely to the hospital station, from wherever he had picked them up. Or, to take them back again when they got well. He took pride in it, and pleasure, as much as he could be said to have any emotions.

Part of his mind was focused out; keeping an eye on navigation and star charts and directions, to make sure he was on the fastest and safest route to the station. He also half watched the news, even though not much seemed to have happened. This was a calm part of the local cluster. His onboard cameras were active, too, keeping an eye on his passenger to make sure all was well. The last bit of Personnel Transportation Vehicle number four's runtime that was in use, kept watch over the percolator and the toaster oven.

We couldn't have anything burn, now, could we?

His inner timer ticked down to zero, and a surge of excitement ran through his circuits. As a PTV, it was among other things, his duty to be a gracious host. In the lower right corner of his screen, he placed a picture of a cafeteria tray, holding a plate with a sandwich on it, and a mug of coffee. He added a colourful napkin, just because he liked the way it looked.

"Your meal is ready, sir."

That didn't sound too cheerful, did it? Finding the right tone was sometimes difficult. Some passengers liked him to sound chirpy, others were annoyed by it. This one was of the latter persuasion. Without saying anything, the man got up and fetched his fare, then sat down again. The computer waited, hoping for a thank you or a well done. Praise made him tingle inside. But, nothing this time.

It didn't matter. He wasn't doing this for praise. He wasn't doing this for his own sake. What mattered was that there was a job to be done, and he was programmed to do it. Everything else was Outside, and thus of little importance.

He let his scanner run a diagnostic on his guest, and it showed all green. Assured that he wasn't needed at the moment, the computer returned to navigation. He switched on one of his external cameras, and scanned the surrounding stars. Searching his limited database, he found their names, whether or not they had inhabited worlds, and he even brought up photographs.

This wasn't a part of his basic program. He wasn't supposed to be curious about things. But sometimes, when he had little to do but to check that he was on course, he couldn't help himself. There was so much out there, so much he didn't know anything about. Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to go there, just to see for himself. Pictures and videos were fine, but...

...what was reality really like?

A red light flashed inside his electronic brain. Without the computer's knowledge, an item had been added to his maintenance list: issue memory wipe.

Unaware of this, he kept watching the stars, wishing he could go and visit them some day. Maybe even park on a planet for a while and look around.

Some day...

* * * * * *

The water shifted around him. Four blinked, trying to clear his vision. Where was the light coming from? Not from up, not sunnylight from some distant surface. He didn't have a flashlight or a lantern or a torchfire or anything. It seemed to be all around him. Bioluminescence? Some tiny fish, giving him help?

Four liked fish. He liked the way their sleek, slender bodies moved through the water, and the way their scales glittered. He wished he could swim like that. It would be fun to be a fish. Just for a while, though, he wanted to be Four as well.

But who was he? Really? He knew his name. Four. He knew that he missed his best friend, Ant, who had given him the name. But who was Ant? Four couldn't get a picture to form before his mind's eye. Not of Ant, not of himself. His memories were messed up. Badly messed up. He could no longer remember what had happened to him, to cause this.

He closed his eyes, and inside his dream, he fell asleep.

* * * * * *

Peals of laughter surrounded him. Hundreds of voices. Hundreds of bodies, swirling around him, tugging and pushing him this way and that. Playing. He was playing. They all were, all together.

Four was running across a beach, chasing sticks in the sand that turned to coins, which he gave away to play fair-games he couldn't possibly win at. Another beach, this time dodging the waves as they crashed and splashed him with... with... with rain water. Filthy water that stung his skin and smelled bad. Here, the children were all waiting inside a rickety hovel, waiting for the bad weather to end. And all the while, death hammered them from above. Unseen. Intangible. Dead certain.

The centre of the galaxy. The heart of all life. The source of his own demise.

"Our killer, my dear Watson," Four said, pointing at the viewscreen which showed nothing but dark space. "Hidden in plain invisibility."

He was back in the Fourtitude now, a detective, solving the mystery. But no, this was wrong. He wasn't Sherlock Holmes, he was just plain old Four. And Watson was not a brown-furred wolf with lovely sky blue eyes.

Where had the kids gone? He knew them, all of them. Jonas, Chee, Anton, Alya, William, Rebecka, Leo, Izza and little Joey in his wheelchair, each and every one a name and a face etched into his memory. But no, this was also wrong. He did know them, but not all in the same place. He had met many kids. But not, all, at, once. And then...

...then...

...Theo was there.

He was thinner than Four, and paler, marked by his long illness. His blonde locks, without the purple tuft, were nowhere to be seen. There were dark circles under his eyes. But still he smiled. His eyes were kind. Four's eyes, blue as the ocean. Their hands reached out, they touched. Moved closer until they hugged, cheek pressed against cheek. Theo was cold. Four was cold.

"Please, come with me," Four said while radiation stung like a million bees. "You'll die if you stay. You'll fade away and die until there's nothing left but a shell, an empty body that somewhere, somehow, someone will take and fill with... me."

"I can't go." Theo's voice was muted, echoing as if it came from deep inside a well. "I can't go because I'm already gone, it happened long ago and all that's left of me is... you."

They broke apart, and stood there in the Fourtitude's main room, eyeing one another longingly. One did not live, the other was dead. Four tried to take Theo's hand, and Theo reached out as well but there was something in the way. A pane of clear glass, separating the two. No fair, Four's mind screamed, don't take him away from me now that I've finally found him, and Theo screamed as well, without words. Without sound. Both of them beat at the glass, pounded it with their small fists until...

...until it cracked. Broke into a thousand pieces which all fell to the floor by Four's feet. Theo was gone. Four's hands bled, not water from his circulatory system, but thick dark blood that smelled sweet and salt and dripped down among the shards. Then reality shattered, and the dream fell apart.

Who was...

...who...

* * * * * *

"...doesn't make any sense," Ant groused. "Fine, I'll help you with the taps since you refuse to learn how they work. But you can shower by yourself."

"But you do it so much better." Four smiled, then gave Ant his best pout. "I don't really feel clean unless you wash me."

"You're incorrigible, and you know it."

His voice was wolfy growly, but there was a glint in his eyes that belied his gruffness. Four knew that he had won. Again. And he knew why. Deep inside, Ant still felt guilty for the way he had tricked Four, just after they met, to give him a ride in Personnel Transportation Vehicle number four. A ride that never, ever ended. So the wolf boy allowed himself to be duped. Conned, in essence if not in reality, to become a car washer.

That thought made Four giggle, for which he was rewarded with a light swat on his bare butt. Which only made him laugh all the more.

Then soft hands began to move, spreading soap suds all over him. Four closed his eyes, and began to hum a wordless tune. He could stay in this now forever. There was just nothing more to happiness than Ant and him, together. Where they were and what they were doing, mattered very little. As long as Four could touch that soft fur, hear that growly voice and see those sparkling blue eyes, all else was immaterial as smoke.

But the shower water turned cold. And the hands disappeared. the voice fell silent and the eyes...

The most cruel blow of all.

The eyes turned away from Four. Ant walked away from Four. Four walked away from Ant. The happiness he had felt was nothing. It was less than a mirage. It had been the false dream of a false boy.

Love?

Why was that word floating around inside his mind? How could love ever happen to a machine? He would have been better off not knowing anything, not knowing that there were so many things he could have, so many things he could want. So many things that could be taken away.

But no...

Loss hurt. Yes, it did. Stung somewhere deep inside him that was no real place and no real thing. No-real-where. So how could it hurt? Now with everything gone, what was it that broke?

Why could he not stop dreaming? Why was he not allowed to just... cease? Perchance to die. Being nothing would be better than having nothing.

But who was it that dreamt, and who was the dream?

Who was it, that hurt so?

* * * * * *

"Do you know now, who you are?"

Four recognised that voice. He had heard it many times before. He had used it many times before. Why was he talking to himself? For a second, a minor eternity for a computer, he thought maybe screen Four had come back. His counterpart self. But no. That Four, Fourtitude Four, had died soon before he, himself, did. Broken by radiation. Frozen, drifting through space.

"If you're dead, then why can I still hear your voice?"

You're not, Four wanted to answer. I'm hearing yours. But he had no voice. He had no self. The waters of that strange ocean were empty. There was nothing left of him.

"You are stubborn. Did you pick that up from Ant?"

Stop talking about Ant! Four didn't want to hear about him, didn't want to think about him. He was gone, he left, he stepped off the ramp, he said he was a friend but what friend leaves a friend alonely to die? Me. Four realised. I did. I left. Him. On his own by his lonesome abandoned cast aside.

Did he cry?

"I don't know. I wasn't there to see. But I can guess and I guess he did. I also guess he left and tried his best to put you behind him."

That was probably for the best. For Ant. The galaxy was his, if he wanted it. He could do anything he set his mind to, he was so remarkable.

"Then why couldn't he stop you from running away?"

I didn't. Four heard his own voice now, inside his head as well as from outside. I had... stuff to do. There were people, there were kids, who needed my help.

"Needed, but didn't want. Just like Ant said."

And here I am, talking to myself again. Not on a screen and in a robot body but... what? A disembodied voice and a nothingish nothing. Not even a body floating in the ocean anymore, just a dream, dreaming that it's a dream.

"You're rambling again. It doesn't become you."

I've become nothing, so nothing becomes me. Ha! What do you say to that?

"You think all that word-twisting is clever, but you're only making yourself sound foolish. And when did you become so bitter?"

Maybe the day I walked into a settler's house, to find nothing but mummified corpses. They had dressed in their best clothes, they knew they were dying. The children lay in their beds, holding their favourite toys. They needed me, and I was a hundred years too late! I've earned the right to be bitter. I threw my life away to accomplish nothing.

"And here I thought you said you were not alive."

Suddenly angry, Four let out a string of expletives. More of them, than he thought he even knew.

"Now, that definitely suits you ill. What would Ant say if he heard you?"

He won't. Even though he was shapeless, Four smiled. And he loves cuss-words, so it's all right. He doesn't use them much, but whenever he hears a new one he's happy as a clam at spring tide. Have you seen how giddy he gets when he hears a really bad one, yet he's embarrassed at the same time? It's so funny!

"Yes, I have. And yes, it is."

You're me, aren't you? I'm Four and you're Four, so what are we? Eight?

"Now you're silly again. But no, I am not you."

What do you mean? You must be! We're talking just like me and him, screen Four. Back then, before we died.

"I'm not you, Four. You are me."

Wait, what? How does that makes sense? And you call me silly. If I'm you, then you must be me. Right? Hello? Are you still there?

Please, come back. Even though you didn't make sense, you made more sense than any of the things that keep happening to me. Please come back. I don't want to be alone again, I... I need someone. Even if it's just another one of me.

Four's mind hurt. Why couldn't he think properly? Please come back, Four. Without you, I really am nothing.

"So you are beginning to understand?"

You came back! Thank you thank you thank you! Talk to me more please tell me anything tell me how stupid I am and how we are us or whatever. Just say something again.

Please!

Please.

Please...

* * * * * *

"There you are, at last."

The voice was so deep that the vibrations tickled Four's skin. He cast about, trying to find the one who had spoken, but he couldn't see anybody. He was on a grassy plain. A field. Here and there grew trees, and far away he could see horses grazing. Four liked horses. He had ridden one, once, and it had been beyond fun. His one regret was that Ant didn't share that particular penchant. The horses on the other hand, loved him. And they wanted nothing more than to say hello and sniff him out. Which sent him running. Four giggled. Poor Ant.

"Over here, my friend. In the shade."

Okay, that was definitely someone talking. Not just another him from inside his own head. Broken voicebox or not, no way he could ever produce such a phenomenal bass. Four turned around slowly, and now he saw a house. A log cabin. Had that been there before? The late afternoon sun shone bright, but the porch faced east, so it lay in shadow. Not knowing what else to do, he strolled over. As he came nearer, he saw that there was a rocking chair on the porch. A sturdy, old-fashioned one. And someone was sitting in it, creaking it back and forth.

Cautiously, Four took a step up, but he could still not see the figure fully. Whoever it was, they were massive. Well over two metres tall, probably closer to two-and-a-half! He could see fur. And he could see gleaming fangs, as the wolf smiled. Ant once said he saw another wolf, at Lakeview, and Four had no reason to doubt him. Was this that wolf? The pirate? His fur was so dark brown that it might just as well have been black. Especially in the shade.

"Don't be afraid of me, Four. Never of me." Another smile. "It's so good to see you again."

"Ant...?"

The name escaped Four's lips before he could even think it. Surely not! Not his Ant, how could this... monster... be his Ant? But those eyes, they glittered blue even though the sun didn't shine directly onto them. That smile, that toothy smile. Four's lower lip began to tremble. Then his nose caught the scent, and the first tear fell.

"Ant..." he whispered. "It really is you..."

"It really is me." A huge hand beckoned. "Let me look at you, please. My eyes aren't what they used to be."

"Ant, how... where... what...?"

"You forgot when and why?" There was a rumbling growl, and Four realised that it was laughter. "I never knew what a grown-up wolf looked like. And here I am."

"Oh!"

Four threw himself into open arms, and all but disappeared inside them. But that was okay, because this was Ant. His Ant! He breathed in through his nose, to make sure he would never again forget that scent. The smell of home, of happiness, of love. Small fingers found the scar, right where it was supposed to be. As close to the heart as it was possible to come, without destroying it. Four whimpered.

And he began to cry.

* * * * * *

The day went the way of all days, and was followed by evening. Four sat in Ant's lap, and Ant rocked them both gently. It was getting dark now. Not many stars shone in this sky, and those that did were faint and distant. Yet, their light caught Ant's eyes, and gave them to Four. Blue as a clear day. His tears had long since stopped flowing, but he still couldn't find words. Ant, infinitely patient Ant, waited for him, in one of their companionable silences. In the end, it was the lack of light that prompted him.

"We're... we're really far out."

"About as far out as you can go," Ant growl-spoke. "There are a few inhabitable planets further out, but the crux is, inhabitable planets are usually inhabited. I wanted one for myself."

"A whole planet?"

"Why not? I have my house, and I have my fields, and I have my orchards and my greenhouses. And I have my horses. What more could a wolf want?"

"You?" Four gasped, eyes wide. "Have horses? Horses?"

"Don't gape so wide your brain falls out," Ant chuckled. "I learned, Four. Took me a couple hundred years, but I like horses now. They're not for riding, though, there's no horse big enough to carry me. They're my company."

"Just you?"

"Just me."

"And the horses?"

"And the horses."

"Nobody else?"

"Nobody else."

"Did you say a hundred years?"

"Yes." He sighed. "Turned out, us wolfs live long, when we get to live. Real long. Four, I'm over six hundred years old."

"Six...?" Four's voice trailed away. "So that's why...?"

"It hurts, Four. It hurts when people you know, suddenly get old. While you're still... not young, but... healthy. I've buried so many friends, Four. So many loved ones. In the end it got too much. Hiding here, alone, isn't the best option, but it's better than always waiting for the next pain."

"I can understand that."

"Yes. Yes, I think you can."

"I never thought about it, Ant, or rather, I didn't allow myself to think about it. But what if... what if I remained a long time, as well? After... after... after..."

"I don't think anybody knows, how long an electronic person can live."

"I don't live."

"Semantics. You think and you move and you feel, so what are you?"

"A little robot." Ant boomed out a laugh. "Seriously, I guess I was afraid of losing you, so afraid that I couldn't even think about it."

"And now?"

"I don't know. What happened to me..."

"Inside the core."

"Yes. I'm pretty sure I... died. But I'm still here, and I've had these weird and crazy dreams and I've been talking to someone I'm pretty sure was me and, well, it feels like I don't know anything anymore."

"You'll figure it out."

"You think?"

"I know. You're the cleverest person I've ever met."

"Robot."

"Person."

"Are you still as stubborn as when I knew you?"

"You don't know the half of it," Ant growled. "Wolfs grow exponentially stubborner with every year we live."

"The rest of us," Four said dryly, "are doomed."

"Don't be like that." Ant stood up, and put Four down as if he had been a little teddy bear. "Wanna meet them?"

"Meet who?"

Instead of answering, Ant jumped over the porch's railing, and took a couple of long strides away from the cabin. Then, he put two fingers between his lips, and blew out a whistle so loud it rattled the windows. When he turned back to Four, he was grinning.

"Better stay up there at first. They can get a bit excited, and I don't want them to step on you."

Four opened his mouth to ask again, but closed it when he heard a distant rumble, which grew and grew until a bunch of horses came into view. They were of all colours and sizes, and Four could count eight in all. Ant stood still, and let them circle him, whinnying and snorting while he talked to them and petted them. Even the largest, a silver, stood no taller on Ant than a pet dog would on Four. After a little while of chaos, the silver came to a halt, and she snapped at the others until they calmed down. A bay foal tried to approach Ant, but the silver pushed him aside. It was clear who ruled this herd. She let out a low nicker, and pranced proudly on the spot as Ant rubbed her side. Then, she nuzzled him, and that seemed to be a signal to the rest of them. They flocked around Ant, vying for his attention, while he made sure each got its share of pets.

"Come on, they've stilled now."

Hesitating slightly, Four climbed down the porch steps, and walked over. The horses parted for him, until he reached his friend. Ant touched each horse as they came close enough, and said a name for every one of them. The foal, whom he called Runt, stopped to sniff Four curiously. Smiling, he stroked its muzzle, and was rewarded with a happy snort.

"That one, I rescued when his herd left him behind. They're all rescues."

"Rescued?"

"The herds are petty much wild. They tolerate me, but they don't see me as one of them. I keep track of them, though, and every time someone falls behind or gets cast out, I pick them up."

"And what?" Four giggled as one of the others, Star, nuzzled him. "Keep them like pets?"

"Pretty much." Ant fished out carrots from his trouser pockets, and fed one to each muzzle that came sniffing his way. "They form their own herd, with Shiny as leader, but they always stay close. I'm pretty sure a few of them think they're wolfs."

"They're all beautiful."

"Here." Ant shoved a carrot into Four's hand. "You feed the little one, he seems to like you."

Four did as he was told, and he couldn't stop laughing as Runt slobbered all over his hand. The two of them had a brief tug-o-war, and even though the foal was eager to get his carrot, he was gentle and didn't bite. In the end, Four let him win, and Runt danced away, munching happily.

"What happens now?"

"Now that they've had their pets and their treats, they'll go back to the lake. There are enough trees there to give them shelter when it rains." Ant gave one last nuzzle, then the horses retreated. "And no munching in the herb garden, you lot! That goes double for you, Shiny!"

A loud snort was the only reply.

* * * * * *

The inside of the house was only two rooms. The main one held a kitchenette, a couch, a coffee table and a television screen, and had its walls decorated with all kinds of knick-knacks. To the right were two doors, one that led to the bathroom and the other to a workshop. Four nearly broke into tears, again. Ant had modelled his home, after their home. After the Fourtitude. It was almost too much.

A bell dinged, and Ant opened the oven. Inside was a small mountain of roasted roots and mushrooms and vegetables, which came out in a cloud of vapour and smells, and which the wolf sprinkled liberally with salt and spices. Four looked around for plates, but Ant carried the whole dish over to the coffee table.

"Help yourself," he grinned, and handed Four an oversized spoon. "I'll get the apple juice. It's made from my own fruit, from my own orchard."

"A tank truck's worth, I bet."

"You're so bad."

It was strange, to hear such a sonorous voice giggle, but at the same time the sound brought out the Ant Four had once known. His friend. The strange creature who, one day, came into his life and changed it all.

If he weren't alive, then why did it feel as if something inside his chest were suddenly thumping faster?

Four had a few tasty nibbles, while Ant wolfed down more food than a human could eat in a week. When the dishes were cleared away, they settled down on the couch. It was bigger than the one aboard the Fourtitude because, well, everything had to be, in order to accommodate this enormous Ant. At first, they sat on opposite ends, and talked.

Ant wasn't very eager to talk about the people he had known, and lost, so he stayed on topics such as the planets and moons he had visited, as well as his new home world. And his horses. How things change! Four, in turn, didn't go into full details when it came to his journey to the centre of the galaxy. But he made sure to tell Ant that he had been right. That the people in there simply would not budge. Not even to save their own lives.

As the night passed, Four seemed to shift, ever so slightly, closer to his friend. Shyness and insecurity both melted away the more they reconnected. By the time Ant's sun began to paint the eastern horizon, Ant's lap was once again filled. Four lay against the wolf's chest, afraid that even a millimetre's distance would end this dream and crush him again.

All the while, he was breathing in that heady, masculine, musky scent of wolf. It broke down walls inside him that he never knew he had erected. It opened possibilities that he hadn't even dared to dream. It was his madeleine; it turned him back into that naive, besotted Four who thought he had all the time in the world to figure things out, as long as he got to sleep in Ant's arms every night. And that transition gave him the strength to break out of his indecisiveness.

While the birds outside sang for the new dawn, they shared their first kiss. Their first real kiss. Their first lovers' kiss. Ant whimpered, and crushed Four to him, and Four grabbed fistfuls of face fur. Anything to keep himself anchored. To stay there and then, to carve that moment into his memory forever. He didn't care that so many years had passed, he didn't care that so much time had been lost. All he wanted was to taste, smell, touch, feel. Bask in the raw joy of love returned.

"No... please no..."

But his whimpered plea went unanswered. The sun parted with the horizon, and Four's whole field of vision became blinding white light. It took the world from him. It took the house. It took his Ant.

"No..."

The dream didn't come true, and it left a bitter taste in whatever passed for his heart. One overpowering thought held his mind as reality crumbled once more.

Who are you?

And Four, with his nose still filled with that beloved scent and his lips still tingling from those alluring kisses...

...finally began to understand.

* * * * * *

The ocean was empty. The light that had lit the water was fading. There was nothing anymore. No one.

All that remained, was a notion. Set things right. Repair the damage.

Find Ant!

* * * * * *

Outside Four's ruptured mind, outside the frozen Fourtitude, a star ceased to shine. Followed by another, and another.

Only the absence of light gave away, that a silent predator moved through the evernight of space.

With unerring precision, it homed in on the little ferry.