Yvonne Gautier and Pierre Lafayette had known each other forever. They grew up playing, learning and causing trouble together. When they got married in their late twenties, both their families and friends agreed they would have been more surprised if they hadn't.

By the time they made their decision, Pierre was already a promising young surgeon with an established practice. A tall, handsome man with strong, rugged features, intense blue eyes and thick, dark eyebrows which gave him an intriguing look.

His wife, though by no means a short woman, looked tiny next to him. She had large, dark eyes which, along with her long, black hair, made her look even younger than she was. When they got married, she was finishing her literature studies at the local university. She had already been a published writer.

They would go out in the fields and she'd read poetry to him for hours. He never got bored, watching her lovely face, listening to the sound of her voice. Only sometimes, he'd get distracted by something as insignificant as a strand of her long hair, disappearing under the collar line of her blouse. It'd make him think where it ended underneath. He would move closer and start kissing her along the path of that hair until she stopped reading and gave him her undivided attention. At other times, Yvonne would curl up in his lap and listen to him telling her all about muscle tissue and veins and how to carefully manipulate a laser scalpel not to touch a bone during an operation.

Apart from writing poetry, Yvonne was also a pretty skilled mountain climber. This passion was the only interest the Lafayettes didn't share. Pierre had always hated mountains. Oh, she did try at first. She dragged him with her once or twice, wanting to show him all the beauty and the challenge. She gave up, though, seeing how miserable he was, despite his best efforts to accommodate her. She didn't have the heart to torture him like that. However, they loved and understood each other well enough to compromise. Since Yvonne would never assist him during an operation, they decided he wouldn't accompany her on the climbing expeditions.
One night, some three months after their wedding, Lafayette embraced his young, lovely wife, with a happy sigh, nesting his head on her shoulder.
"Pierre," Yvonne whispered before he closed his eyes.
"Mhm...?"
"Jacque is organizing an expedition next month."
"Where to?"
"Gathen IV. There is a very unique K-8 I'd just love to conquer. You know, it's actually called Mount Yvonne!"
Lafayette raised his head. He had no intention to object to his wife's plans but something about that particular idea made him anxious.
"I thought we'd be able to spend some time together during your break," he told her quietly.
"Oh we will," Yvonne laughed warmly, kissing him on the nose. "I'll only be gone for a few days. When I'm back, we can go wherever you want, okay?"
Lafayette stared at her in the darkness. He knew every detail of her face by heart. Even without seeing it, he could still imagine the excitement that must have been  lightening her lovely eyes.
"I'd rather you didn't go," he whispered, not really sure why.
But she did. There was nothing he could deny her and she knew it. Not that she'd ever abuse her power over him but an expedition to a neighboring system was a rare occasion and certainly worth having it her way.
A month later, when an alarm from the hospital woke Lafayette up in the middle of the night, he knew instantly that he had been right. Even before he answered the call, he knew he shouldn't have let her go.

* * *

"Doctor, she's dead," one of the nurses told him for the eighth time during the last hour.
She was right. Yvonne Lafayette was lying on Pierre's operation table, her skull open and her brain already swelling. She hadn't shown any signs of life for two hours now, despite Lafayette's wild attempts to revive her.
"We need you to announce the time of death," the nurse told him gently, but he wasn't listening.
"Ten cc's of adrenaline!" he ordered again. This time nobody moved. He looked around his team of two doctors and three technicians but all their faces showed the same amount of determination, laced with sympathy.
Lafayette turned to look down at his wife and made a move as if he wanted to inject her himself. But he stopped and slowly sank to his knees instead, lowering his head.
"Doctor, time of death, please," the nurse repeated softly.
He looked up at her and opened his mouth but not a sound escaped it.
"Time of death, fifteen oh eight," one of the other doctors made the announcement for him.
While they all made their way out of the operation ward, the nurse came up to Lafayette, still on his knees, and helped him up. He allowed her to lead him out to the dressing room but then she had to help him wash his hands and change his clothes.

* * *
Pierre Lafayette never attended his wife's funeral. At that time, he was locked away in a mental hospital on the central planet of the system. He had to be fed and washed, showing no signs of understanding what was happening around him. When left alone, he'd sit or lie and stare at something in front of him that only he could see.
After three months, Paul Mortimer, his counselor, was about ready to announce him incurable. He decided to try one more thing before that, though. He brought some tapes with him again but this time these weren't the recordings of Lafayette's wedding or his childhood. Mortimer brought a recording from one of Yvonne's last climbing expeditions which she took only a month before they got married.
For the first twenty minutes, Lafayette was looking towards the monitor the same way as he always had. He saw everything but it was impossible to tell if he understood what he was seeing. The images of Yvonne, preparing a meal in the camp, laughing and posing for her friend, flashed on the monitor one after another. The last sequence showed her strapping on the anti-gravity boots and beginning to climb a wall. Mortimer sighed heavily and reached out to switch the monitor off when he noticed a single tear running down his patient's cheek. He stopped and waited. Lafayette blinked and another tear appeared. Mortimer came up to him and put his hand on his shoulder.
After a long while, Lafayette sobbed loudly. Then once more. And again. Finally, he started shaking uncontrollably and suddenly fell down on his knees, bursting out with a hysterical cry. Mortimer kneeled by his side and held him tight, making certain Lafayette didn't hurt himself, slamming his head on the floor.

Three hours later, completely exhausted, Lafayette allowed the counselor to lead him to bed and then he fell asleep. It was the breakthrough the counselor had almost lost hope of. The next morning, Pierre ate his breakfast on his own, but it still took another two months before he was able to speak again.

"Thank you for your patience, Counselor," he told him almost a year later, when he was leaving the clinic.
"I'm just glad I could help," Mortimer smiled sadly at his young patient. Even though he wasn't even thirty yet, Lafayette's hair was already beginning to gray and he looked like a broken, old man. "Have you decided what to do now?"
"No..." Lafayette shook his head. "I guess I'll take a shuttle and just... hit the road," he said quietly. "I'll try to find some place away from here."
"Perhaps you should reconsider the decision about your job?" the counselor asked, without much hope. "You're a talented surgeon."
"No," Lafayette shook his head firmly. "I've no idea what to do with myself just yet but that's one thing I'm sure of. I will never operate again."

* * *

In the 24 century, most of the galaxy was inhabited by humans and a few humanoid species. Since the development of subspace drive and harnessing nuclear energy, space expansion for the humanity had begun.
There was no hunger, no wars anymore, except for rare struggles with extra-galaxian races. Apart from the Cyborgs, however, none of them posed any real danger for the Space Fleet - the military and science force for the Human Alliance.
During almost 300 years, on the newly discovered planets, people have developed a whole variety of cultures. Life was now much more diverse than it used to be on Earth alone.
Except for his early marriage, Pierre Lafayette was a typical product of his era. These days people rarely got married before 40 or 60 even more so since, thanks to the recent developments in medicine, not only the average lifespan was up to 200 years but also most of the previously incurable diseases and aging itself were almost entirely eliminated. The first signs of aging only started showing in humans over 100 years old. In other words, an 80-year-old man from the 24th century equaled, both in looks and vitality, a 30-year old born, say, in the 20th century.
Freed from the necessity to support themselves, due to the fact that energy was free and matter-energy converters provided everyone with whatever they needed from food and clothing to home building modules and furniture, people could now dedicate their lives to their passions or artistic creativity.

* * *

For Lafayette, his passion had always been medicine but now, after what happened… He had worked for five years, which earned him the right to own a shuttle. These days, every citizen of the Human Alliance went through compulsory navigation and basic physics courses during their studies.
Piloting a small shuttle was nothing difficult, Pierre went into orbit and then out of the system with ease.  But, what next? He sat on the small bridge, staring at the viewscreen, and tried to catch his breath.
It wasn't that he didn't know how to make decisions. On the contrary, he had always known what he wanted, right from the start. He had always wanted to be a surgeon and he wanted to marry Yvonne. Later, when they were furnishing their house and compromising on many everyday things, he never had a problem with decision making, either. Now, for the first time in his life, he had no idea what he wanted. And it scared the hell out of him.
He had a few recipes in his converters for mild sedatives. The counselor had warned him that he may, at first, experience panic attacks... but was this one? He felt his heart pound and he couldn't breathe when he thought about what to do next but was that it? No. He decided that he had to deal with it on his own, no drugs. He got up and went to the back of the shuttle, where he had his luggage, still unpacked. He fumbled around it for a moment before he found what he needed.
Pouring himself a second glass of red wine, he searched the computer for some games. Backgammon was something he'd never heard of before. *Good,* he thought. *Might give me some distraction...* For a couple of hours he just mindlessly moved the stones around the board, rather randomly, unable to concentrate on the game or anything else. Finally, he saw an obvious mistake his opponent made and turned around to point it out to Yvonne...
And then it hit him. For the first time since he understood that she had really died, he realized that he would never be able to tell her anything, share anything... he felt sick. Paralyzed with a simple thought that she's just not there anymore, that there is no way for him to reach her ever again...
Pierre writhed in physical pain, piercing through his entire body. He fell on the floor, panting desperately. He knew he was hyperventilating but his medical knowledge notwithstanding, there was nothing he could do about it. He clenched his fists and moaned but there was nobody to hear him. Violent convulsions overwhelmed him and he threw up just before he lost consciousness.

* * *

He woke up having no idea how much time had passed. He lay motionless for a while but the pain didn't return. On the contrary, he felt rather numb now. Finally, he forced himself to sit up, leaning his back on the chair. He pulled his knees up and propped his forehead on them. And then he started crying.
He thought he would never cry again. Yet somehow, more and more tears were now welling in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks in two, unstoppable streams. He couldn't control it. He couldn't stop it. Desperate weeps ripped through his lungs one after another and he just couldn't stop.
Eventually, the smell of his own vomit sobered him up a little. He rose to his feet shakily, his vision still blurred, and managed to clean the mess up. His eyes fell on the comm panel. The three missed transmissions flashing on the monitor were those from his father, a close friend and Yvonne's 10-year-old sister.
No. These were the last people he'd want to see now, much less talk to. He deleted the messages and came over to the navigation station. He punched at the panel, choosing some random course. He didn't care where to go anymore. All that was important now was to get as far away from here as possible. He didn't even check the course, just set the autopilot on and started the engines.
Lafayette realized that he hadn't eaten in hours. He wasn't hungry but he had to eat to survive. He got himself some lasagna and ate it without paying attention to the taste. He washed it down with a glass of wine.
In the evening, he made the bed, undressed methodically and took the ultrasonic shower. Not only his body but also his mind felt numb now. He wasn't thinking about anything. He lay down and closed his eyes trying to relax.
Half asleep, he turned around, swinging his arm to embrace Yvonne. Instead, he slammed his hand on the wall. Right. It wasn't his huge, double bed back at home. And Yvonne wasn't there with him, he remembered. Absentmindedly, he massaged his hurting hand and felt the wedding ring still on his finger. The same ring that Yvonne had put there with the words...
Not without effort, he pulled the ring off of his finger and sent it spinning on to the floor. Fascinated, he watched as it rolled under the bed. He gritted his teeth and forced himself not to think about it anymore.

* * *

"Oh, you know I hate mountains!" he complained, lifting himself onto a shelf.
"I know, honey," she laughed to him. He loved the sound of her laughter.
"Thank you for coming with me." Yvonne gathered the rope and made a step up right below him.
Pierre, stuck on a narrow outcropping that could barely pass for a shelf, hammered another piton and turned to help her. Freezing with cold and trying to shield his face from falling snow, he bent down and reached out to take her by the hand.
Yvonne blinked and opened her mouth, taking in another forced breath. The white fur of her hood contrasted so lovely with her black hair. She squinted her eyes under the falling snow and extended her hand. The piton. She jerked as her body weight pulled half of it out of the rock. She looked at it, surprised. Lafayette bent lower, trying to reach her. The piton loosened up a little more. Yvonne was only centimeters away from him now. He leaned over even more and she reached out to him. Her lovely, dark eyes, widened with terror as the piton finally let go and her fingertips only brushed his hand.
"Pierre..." she whispered before she lost her balance and started tumbling down.
"Nooo!"
Lafayette jumped up on the bed, bumping his head on the bulkhead. He didn't even feel it, with Yvonne's face still in front of his eyes. He was all wet with perspiration, his whole body shaking.
He knew this dream, every detail of it. He had dreamt it dozens of times before, always the same. Why?
The counselor helped him understand. True, he had never been that high in the mountains but he'd seen enough virtual images Yvonne showed him from her various expeditions to imagine the surroundings. Her falling off was just a distorted memory of a harmless accident they had when they were climbing trees together as kids. Only then, Yvonne fell from two meters, not twenty. And she didn't crack her skull open.
Understanding where it came from, however, didn't make it any easier for Lafayette. When he could breathe again, he stumbled out of the bed and caught the bottle of wine, still half full, standing on the table. He swung it and drank all there was left in it, without even stopping for breath.

* * *

For the next three or four days, he managed to keep some discipline. He would get up when the computer woke him up, go to the bathroom, get himself a breakfast and tend to daily maintenance of the shuttle. After dinner he would play games or study. As long as he could keep himself occupied, he managed to keep his mind in check, thinking about nothing beyond everyday routines.
Until, one afternoon, he dropped a notepad and it landed under the bed. He kneeled down and groped for it. His fingers touched something cold and round... his wedding ring...
Lafayette closed his eyes and took it out. Without looking at it, he placed it on the table and went over to the computer panel. Activating the teleporter, he felt his hands shake but he bit his lip and continued. When the ring was in outer space, he locked a laser onto it and a small lash of energy blasted the little thing away, just like fate had blasted away his entire life.

* * *

Yvonne was his younger only by two years. He didn't remember the moment she was born but he had a feeling she had always been with him. Their society led a country life with large farms and a few small towns scattered around the globe. They were born in one of such towns. Their parents lived on the same street and the two families were close. As far as he could go back in his mind, Yvonne had always been there to play with him.
The moment the school was over, he'd run out to the street and call her out to join him. It had always been obvious for their other friends, too. Whenever it came to picking teams, they always had to be on the same side. When an excursion was planned, one wouldn't go without the other. They understood each other without words.
Once, when they were growing up, Yvonne's parents decided that it was time to break this obsession. Not that they didn't like Pierre. They just decided that Yvonne should have a chance to meet other boys before she makes any commitments that early. They took her away  for a month's vacation... and returned after three days because she had refused to eat when Pierre was not around. When she fell into his arms that day and they kissed wildly, he proposed to her. He was eighteen at the time, while Yvonne was about to celebrate her sixteenth birthday in a few days.
They only got married ten years later but, as far as either of them was concerned, they could have been wedded as infants. Lafayette never kissed another girl in his entire life and he knew that Yvonne never dated another boy, either. They didn't need anyone, as long as they had each other.
Still shaking, he fell on the chair and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind from all these thoughts but he couldn't. It wasn't that he only lost his wife. It felt like he lost a sister, a best friend, half of himself... he lost his whole life and now he just didn't know what to do anymore.

* * *

A comm signal startled him. Pierre turned the viewscreen on to see a black-haired humanoid man who smiled at him nicely.
"Welcome to Mantaga, Sir."
"Excuse me?"
"You have just entered Mantaga space, Sir," the man explained patiently. "Would you like to land your shuttle and replenish your resources or do you need my help in navigating you out of the system?"
"I, uhm... Yes, I think I'd like to land," Lafayette decided. Although he wasn't really in need of any resources, he thought that being with people would be a nice change of pace.
"In that case, feed this data to your computer and reset the autopilot, please." The man smiled again when Lafayette nodded upon receiving the coordinates. "Enjoy your stay, Sir."

* * *

With his shuttle in the docks, Lafayette teleported himself to one of the smaller cities around the capital. This was the first time he'd be among people since he had been taken to the hospital. He didn't feel up to walking the crowded streets just yet.
The weather was lovely and the sun shone brightly as he walked through a park. After months of isolation, he felt slightly disoriented by the cacophony of colors and details and all the movement around him. He stepped in to a small cafe and got himself a cup of coffee.
The town was not unlike the one he was born in. It had a similar, congenial feeling to it, despite some obvious differences in architecture. It was only more colorful and... there were a lot more women around. For some reason, he noticed, most of the fancily dressed people around him were females.
*Right,* he realized. *Mantagans are a feminist society. Heh!* he snorted at his own distractedness. *And... they're natural telepaths...*
When he had entered the cozy room, a lot of heads turned into his direction and he could see a few interested looks. Now, as he looked around, nobody was paying attention to him. He sighed, relieved, when suddenly a small boy, maybe 5 year old, stood next to his chair.
"It wasn't your fault, Sir," he said.
"I beg your pardon?" Lafayette stared at him.
"That she died," the boy shook his head. "It wasn't your fault."
"I..."
"Adam! Adam, come here, sweetie!" A stubby, young woman came up to his table and put her hand on the boy's shoulder. "Please, excuse him, Sir," she smiled at Lafayette. "We don't get many off-world visitors around here. He hasn't learned not to read people's minds without their consent just yet."
Before Lafayette could react, she pulled the boy by the arm, scolding him on their way out: "How many times did I tell you not to talk to people before you make sure they want to talk?"
He sat stunned for a long while, just looking through the window. Finally, forgetting the coffee he hadn't even touched, he got up and walked out of there, unaware of many sympathetic glances following his back. He got to the nearest teleport point and went back to the docks. When he contacted the engineer in charge, he heard that they had just begun a purging procedure of his subspace engine and the shuttle was not available until next morning.
Lafayette thanked the man and went straight to his hotel room. He never left it until the next morning when he boarded his shuttle and started off and away from the known space. This time, he knew that, wherever he'd go, it won't be any of the civilized Alliance worlds.
For the next twenty years, Pierre Lafayette toured more planets in the galaxy than he could count. Most of them were either uninhabited, wild places or primitive worlds where he could easily avoid meeting the local people. He was constantly on the move. A couple of months spent in one place was all he could force himself before he needed to get out again.

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Part 1 Yvonne

Around AD 2360