Jun 6th, 2071
Richard stared at Brenda's figure, her thin frame outlined by the lab's stark bioluminescent lighting. She was hunched over her work, unconcerned with her now silver hair, momentarily escaping from its tight bun. She squinted through her wire-framed glasses, eyes lit with an ageless intensity as they strained to unearth the essence of life.
Born in Germany, she still resided in the same estate in the lowlands of the Hochwanner mountains but the country had a new name, culture, and borders. And now, nearing her seventh decade, Brenda carried the assurance of the youth she'd left behind, instead of succumbing to the frailty usually installed by age. Lines etched by deep thought crisscrossed her skin—a testament to countless nights spent in the wake of her relentless pursuit. Although her legs weren't as sure as they once were, her spirit was tenacious.
The telltale signs of age didn't bother Brenda, and she wore it with grace. A certain indomitable spirit seemed to be her fountain of youth, her raw determination more visible than any wrinkle or silver hair. After all, she was dealing with the riddles of life and death—age, to her, seemed less paramount in comparison.
As they delved into conversation, Richard got up to stretch his legs, noticing a petri dish placed atop a shelf, lost in the no man's land above Brenda's modest height of 162 centimeters. With a helpful smile, he gently grasped it and handed it over to her.
"Thank you," she said absentmindedly placing it to her left and returning to her work with barely a glimpse at it or him.
"Brenda, how do you feel about this?" Richard asked suddenly.
"About what?" Brenda replied without breaking from her work, her tone absentminded.
"About me looking like I'm in my 30s," Richard said.
Brenda paused, a small smile playing on her lips. "Richard, you don't get it, do you? Age is just a number when you're grappling with the mysteries of immortality. You may have successfully reset your biological clock, but one can't ignore the years lived, the experiences…"
Richard interrupted, "I just wondered if it makes you…uncomfortable."
She chuckled, "No, it doesn't…because it's just a different kind of living. I don't find my aging self inferior or less capable than the younger you. Yes, it feels a bit odd at times, but it's also a stark reminder of our journey…our struggle to reach here."
"I thought you might want to utilize your own tech on yourself," Richard commented.
Brenda shrugged, "That's the thought of someone within the precarious grasp of death. Immortality might be an alluring concept, but it's not for everyone. You had no choice; you were on the edge of death, looking into the abyss. When I reach a point that I can no longer do the work as well, I will probably take the treatment to continue my research. That's the only lure increasing the clock has to me. I'm comfortable with my mortality…but it doesn't prevent me from pushing the boundaries of our biological limitations."
Richard shifted uncomfortably, "But what about us - our relationship?"
Still not facing Richard, Brenda leaned back in her chair, considering. "Are you asking if I find you less appealing in bed with your returned vigor?" she asked, evenly. "Is that what it is, Richard? This is about sex?"
Richard, startled by Brenda's bluntness, remained silent, waiting, giving her the room to talk.
Brenda sighed, "It doesn't make a difference to me, Richard. You're still you. Love is not about the physicality of a person, it's about the connection, the bond. And ours is stronger than it has ever been. If anything, your vigor brings a new dimension. You've changed, but I still see you. I still love you. And I still want you." Turning around, Brenda fixed Richard with a pointed look, "Did I clear your apprehension? Or is this about you finding me old now?"
Richard shook his head, relief swelling within him. "Brenda, I love you too, more than ever," he confessed earnestly.
She peered at him over her glasses, a pragmatic glint in her eyes, "Good. Keep in mind, another important factor is that if something does go wrong with this technology, I'll likely be the one to fix it. Depending on how the error manifests, it's probably best if I'm not... affected myself," she explained, pushing her glasses back up her nose with a slight smirk.
The word 'affected' sent a jolt down Richard's spine, but he swiftly quashed the unease.
Brightness returned to Brenda's features, and she bestowed upon Richard a tender smile. Sweeping her gaze back to the world-altering work before her, she stated, "That's settled then. Now, let's return to our task of making history, shall we?"