Monologue
As Aldebaran’s outer layers were shed and gradually revealed the white dwarf beneath it, Will and Gale transformed Taurus Crossing into a thriving tourist destination. Wayward voyagers stayed at the station for weeks, sometimes months, to witness the shift: the slow reveal of the pale light beyond the gasses scattering across the solar winds. The station’s brilliant mirror panels became a beacon for travelers, leading their eyes to the station’s trademark sign: See The Star, See The Show.
"Tonight’s show will be wonderful, Will. I'm sure of it."
Gale crossed the lobby from the entry port, his metallic feet thumping less than gracefully against the threadbare carpet covering the dust-heavy floor. Slowly, steadily, the android made his way up the staircase, still the centerpiece of the station theater's spacious lobby, and through the red and gold double doors leading to the mezzanine.
At its greatest peak, Taurus Crossing welcomed millions of travelers from across the universe, all for the spectacle of the station’s revue and the once-in-a-lifetime chance to watch a star’s decay. Taurus Crossing was Will’s passion project, and Gale had delighted in keeping it running with him. Will brought artistic vision to the revue: selecting starlets, conceptualizing costumes and choreography, and training talented comics and dancers who went on to become stars in their own right. Gale handled logistics: finances, scheduling, announcements, and everything else needed for Will’s ideas to flourish.
But when only the white dwarf remained, visitors and performers alike abandoned the station, searching for the next great spectacle of the universe.
Gale had felt a shift when moving his mechanical limbs that morning, one that had been coming for centuries, so he put himself to work. He manually pulled up the stage curtain—its lifting machinery stopped working long ago—then opened the doors to the station’s deteriorating theater foyer to beckon non-existent travelers in to see the star, to see the show.
Once done, Gale trudged along the arcing hallway behind the mezzanine until he reached a private box just off stage right, where two seats had been reserved for millennia. It took more effort than he ever remembered expending to shift his stiffening joints, metal interior scraping against itself to finish the trip. As he settled into his familiar seat, the weight of lifetimes sank into his body, feeling more like relief than anything else.
Behind the stage, the station’s brilliant two-way mirror panels provided the same spectacular view of Aldebaran it always had, the star’s pale light glimmering across the stage and into the orchestra seats.
Will had been silent since the station finished its 500th lap around the white dwarf. By then, the show had not had an audience for hundreds of years. Gale slowly extended his left arm out to place his hand on top of Will’s long-silent android shell, resting right where he had wanted to be in his last moments.
“I can’t wait to see the show with you again.”
Right where they’d agreed to spend forever together.
When Gale’s core started to flicker, he cleared his throat one final time.
“Esteemed guests, travelers, friends…one and all…we welcome you to Taurus Crossing. The spectacle of Aldebaran…awaits you, so please take your seats…mind…your fellow audience…members and…enjoy…the…”
© 2023 Kengo Nelson
About the Author
Kengo Nelson is a romance writer and desert cactus transplanted to New England. He contributes to Kansai-themed literary zine Kyoto Cryptids, and can be found posting infrequently on Bluesky @kengonelson.