Astrid the Astronaut's Arc

Chapter 7 of 8

The email arrived three days after the students left. Astrid was restocking brochures when her phone buzzed. The subject line read: Regarding Echo's Installation. She opened it standing in the doorway of the sun building, sunlight warming the back of her neck. The message was short. A woman claimed Echo's orb copied her work—Earth and space merged together, just like drawings in her old journal. She'd set up a metal sphere structure near the entrance, solar panels catching light. Inside it, she'd placed Echo's orb in a glass case with her journal open beside it, pressed flowers and star maps visible through the transparent walls. Visitors were stopping to read her handwritten note: This concept belongs to me. Astrid called Echo. "Did you see this?" He was quiet for a moment. "I saw the satellite building. Didn't know why it was there." Astrid walked toward the entrance, phone pressed to her ear. "Did you copy her idea?" Echo's voice was steady. "I've been mixing Earth imagery with space for eight years. Since before Space Haven existed." Astrid reached the structure. The woman stood beside it, arms crossed, watching guests read her journal. Astrid approached slowly. The woman turned, her expression hard. "Your artist stole my work." Astrid looked at the journal through the glass. The star maps were beautiful, delicate. But they weren't the same as Echo's orb—his showed connection, movement, the idea that people belonged to both worlds at once. This journal showed separation, Earth on one page and stars on another, never touching. "These are both on the page," Astrid said carefully. "But they're not together. Not the way Echo's orb is." The woman's jaw tightened. "The concept is mine. Earth and space in one piece." Astrid felt something settle in her chest. She'd spent months trying to show people how small they were. Then she'd learned to show them how they belonged. This woman was doing neither—she was claiming ownership of an idea that came from looking up at the sky. "No one owns that," Astrid said. "People have been drawing stars and trees together since there were people." The woman left an hour later, her satellite structure still standing but empty. Astrid removed the glass case and journal, leaving only Echo's orb on the wooden stand where it had always been. She stood back and watched a family approach it, a young boy pressing his face close to see the colors swirl. His mother leaned down beside him. "It's like we're part of the sky," she said. The boy nodded, breath fogging the glass. Astrid pulled out her phone and texted Echo: It's still yours. It was always yours. Then she walked back to the sun building, leaving the orb where everyone could see it, no case around it, no claim attached. Just the idea itself, free for anyone who stopped to look.