Flash and Lem sped along through space, and nothing really changed all that much. On one occasion, though, Lem opened her eyes after sleeping by Flash’s side.

Something was different. Yes, something had definitely changed. She just stared, unsure what to make of it. Something hovered above the control panel. It floated there, and Lem couldn’t be sure if the thing was glowing, or if it was just backlit, hanging, as it was, in front of the viewing screen. She didn’t move a muscle as she watched it, and actually began to wonder if it was really there. Maybe she was not quite as awake as she thought.

It rotated. So slowly as to be almost imperceptible, it turned on its axis. By the time it had made one quarter turn, Flash opened his eyes and saw it, too.

A thrill went through him as he remembered the arrival of his daughter in that very spot.

Do you see it? Flash asked.

Yes.

What do you think it is?

But Lem already knew.

It is my son.

Flash got up and took the tiny creature, cradling it in his arms as he brought it to her.

The universe knew how to form its entire existence from a tiny particle, so why shouldn’t it be able to create children like this out of seeming nothingness?

Lem was content, and Flash looked on, feeling a mix of joy and longing.

He looked like her, down to the spots that migrated across his body.

Poikani, Lem whispered to the sleeping baby.

Flash was happy for Lem, and happy to have this new life join them.

Naturally, he thought about his own daughter who had come unexpectedly and then grew up so fast.

He understood that she could not be content, as he was, aboard the mothership. She was drawn to the mountains of Olo, and he savored the safety and familiarity of his home.

Oh, but how he missed her!

I want to do this again, he mentioned to Lem one day.

She looked at him, and said, Do what?

I want to have another child, he answered.

Do it! came her unexpected reply.

Flash Meridian drew a blank. His daughter’s arrival had been so unexpected, he wasn’t sure he could conjure up another child.

What is meant to be, will be, Lem said.

His daughter hadn’t come from wishing or begging.

Since she left, the cells of his heart had been heavy. He could never replace her. She had filled a vacant place in his spirit that he hadn’t even known was there. How many other open places did his heart hold, unaware?

Lem’s words came back to him. Your heart was open.

Flash had initially pictured a welcoming heart with doors swung open, a cozy home filled with love. He now pictured a heart with open spaces … voids that had always been there, or empty areas that had been eroded by loss.

Either way, his heart had room available, and enough love to share.

His heart mirrored the infinite vacuum of space, and he did not know the secret to filling either one. Perhaps, like the universe, his heart already contained everything, it was just expanding.

Like the crystal shards of Olo, or the molecules in the table of elements, the universe already had all the pieces.

He could hardly wait to see how they fit together.