“My father is descended from a famous singer around 400 years ago, near the middle of Earth’s 20th century,” Buffalo smiled at me over a glass of Beaujolais Ptolémée.
“I’ve heard of him,” I said. “Didn’t he write that old folk song, ‘If I Should Fall Behind’?”
“It’s possible. I probably should know more about him than I do, family ties and all, but I really don’t, it was so long ago,” she admitted. “And then my mother can trace her family back to another singer from around the same time, who once belonged to an ensemble called Buffalo Springfield.”
“What was his name?”
“You’d think I would remember. I’d have to ask Mom.”
“So your name is a 400-year-old musical pun,” I said, and she giggled shyly, which was completely out of character but made her adorable. “With a pedigree like that, I can see why you don’t want to shorten it.”
And that sort of chilled the moment. “No. I don’t want to shorten it.” As in, we’re not going to discuss that nickname any further.
“Have you ever heard any of the music your ancestors recorded?” I steered the conversation back on track.
“A little, not much,” she said. “It’s pretty dated, it’s quaint, but you know, it’s ancient music. And Earthian – hard to relate to.”
We finished the wine over laughter and more discussion of Earth music from centuries ago. And now, a few weeks later, she was standing at the door to my home with a rifle slung over her shoulder.
“I can leave it outside if you want,” she said awkwardly, indicating the gun.
“Oh, don’t be silly,” I said, ushering her in with a kiss on the cheek. “Just because I don’t use them on people personally doesn’t mean I object to their presence.”
She had been taking some training as a sniper, and it turned out she was a natural, a simple evolution from her hunting skills. She was anticipating that she would soon be sent out on the field to dispatch Earthians.
“I know you don’t approve,” she said slowly. “But I have to do this.”
I nodded. “You have to do what you think is the right thing, Buffalo. It’s not what I would do, but this is your choice, your life.”
“We’re still, well, we’re still what we are, aren’t we?”
My Lord, the confusion in my soul over this. Everything in my being screamed that we were designed to be two halves of a whole, but how could I make a life with someone who rejected my most deeply held core belief? It felt like a choice between tearing out my heart or cutting off my head.
After a few moments of trying to form something to say, I finally managed, “Let’s get this revolution out of the way, and then we’ll see where we stand.”
That was where we agreed to leave it. A few minutes later she went off to kill Earthians, and I retreated to the darkest loneliness I’ve ever known.
Entry 61
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