Planet Mangamaria. I really do not know much about it. To the best of my knowledge, this is a Zoner-controlled world in the Omega-48 system, and apparently the planet has no night cycle at all because it keeps getting illuminated by the Barrier and the Walker. It is also a rather cold planet compared to Denver, so I need to put on something warm. Learning from the mistake of my last visit of New Berlin with Kristoff and Monique, I figured it was time to get a little bit more variety for my wardrobe. Like, not really, as it is just another of these black flight suit, but this one comes with internal heating pads, which is quite cool. Or, uhm, the opposite of cool, I guess! I also bought one for Madeleine, she wanted it in dark red with black highlights. Or the other way around.
She looks hot!
Anyway! Because of the damage the Kay got from the fight with the Rogues in Colorado, we needed to get some repairs done that are not just surface level nanofix layers. Apparently the shield generator needs a few custom-made replacement parts, and that is kind of a serious thing, so I took the Kay to Baltimore in New York and had a guy look at it and tell me to go to Riverside Station in California. So, we went there, and there was another guy looking at the Kay and he said we need to wait for a few weeks until we can get the fitting parts because of the really inconvenient Liberty-Zoner conflict in Pennsylvania.
So here we are, on Planet Malaria. We went all the way through Bretonia to Omega-7 and from there to Omega-48, just for the repairs.
Madeleine and I are putting on the new suits. She asks me for help with her hair to not get it stuck around the neck, since these things are pretty tight.
Kindofexciting,don'tyouthink?
Uhm, yeah, I think you look very pretty in that suit.
Imeanvisitinganewplanet.
Oh, uhm, yeah. I, uhm, kind of trying not to think about it.
Iguessyou'rekindofusedtoitalready?
No, really. Not at all. I have been to, uhm, well, Pittsburgh, Denver, Manhattan, Curacao and New Berlin so far, and every time it was, uhm, overwhelming.
Like, in a way all of these worlds are completely different and super intimidating.
I guess Denver is the calmest planet I have been to so far. Manhattan is crazy. New Berlin is super cold and you see the Ring from the surface.
You'vealsobeenonthatgallicplanet.
Something I am still not sure as to whether I should remember it fondly or with embarrassment. I certainly do not want to talk about it. I know the mere thought turns my cheeks red.
... Anyway, I have no idea how things are on this world. I know it is kind of the opposite of Pittsburgh, because Pittsburgh is always dark because it is so far away from the New York star. Malaria on the other hand is always bright.
Canaria.
... That. Anyway, I need you to stay at my side the entire time, because we can probably get lost easily, okay?
NowwhywouldIeverwanttoleaveyourside,huh?
Madeleine pecks my lips briefly and then takes her little shoulder bag. And with that, we leave the Kay and for the first time in our lives, we set foot on Planet Tanagria. And we immediately get met by a not too pleasant cold breeze of air, as well as a weird and penetrant stench. Does not take long to locate the source, as a few landing pads away is a freigther from Rheinland, and right next to it pile of what seems to be rotten meat or something? It all spilled out of a cargo container and sullied quite a lot of ground. The container looks like it blew up from the inside. It is definitely a horrible sight accompanied by a horrible smell.
I take Madeleine by her hand and lead her toward the big building of the space port. The wind is quite strong and it must have rained not long before we arrived as the ground is still wet and a bit reflective. I can hear muffled announcements from the building but we are not close enough to understand anything. We hurry up.
Entering the space port center, we get met by clean-ish air, no cold breeze of stench. And a young woman approaches us.
No way, you!? You here? Oh my god, how long has it been!?
I do not recognize her at all, which is quite uncomfortable.
God, it's so good to see you again! Who's that, your girlfriend?
... Did I sleep with her?
Uhm, she is, uhm, yeah, my girlfriend, and-
Lucky her! Hey, listen, you should definitely check out the hot springs here. They only let members of the New Covenant Church go there, but it's for free if you are a member. I tell you, it's the best!
Uh, I am not a member, I am afraid.
Really? Oh, well, how about you join, then? Just sign here!
I have never seen a woman summon pen and paper out of her hand bag this quickly before. Even a clip board. Without much thought, I take her pen and take the paper, until Madeleine pokes me in the side.
Oh, we're not a cult! We're the one true religion. Unifying mankind against the Nomad Threat. We welcome anyone, except those who worship the Faith of Tarxien. Those idiots are lost souls.
I was about to say something, but Madeleine immediately jumps in.
Don'tinsultmyholyfaith,heretic!
The girl immediately rips the pen and the clipboard with the paper out of my hands and spits on the floor, giving Madeleine the unholiest stare I have ever seen. Without a word, she leaves. I slowly turn to Madeleine, questions written into my face.
Youwereabouttogetscammed,Levan.
Uhm... okay?
I keep staring at her.
I thought you are an atheist?
Iam.Butitfeelsgoodtomakefunofscammers.
Uh... okay. I just hope that does not bite us in the rear later.
We make our way through the central building, and I cannot help but get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people. I guess I am really not used to these population centers. David's Hollow is such a sleepy little town. I prefer it that way, to be honest. Although the adrenaline rush right now is quite something. Even Madeleine seems to be excited. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and I think she is not exactly freezing right now.
We continue on our little adventure.
It is incredibly easy to lose orientation in here. Shops with stuff from literally everywhere. Restaurants, a shisha bar, cafés, obviously some adult clubs, too. One even with robots. We stand in front of an establishment that had robotic "dancers" outside, showing off the, uhm, wares.
Did we take a wrong turn?
Nope.ThespaceportonManhattanhadoneofthese,too.
But, uhm, families visit this area here, too. Is that not, uhm, kind of inappropriate?
Sweetsummerchild.
No idea what she means with that, but she pulls on my hand to lead the way away from the robotic doll that showed off her skill on a toy banana. Kind of mesmerizing. I wonder how soft those lips are!
Levan,thisway.
Uh, yeah!
I wonder how much one of those robot costs. Wait, no, we are here for these robots, uh, repair parts. The Kay, right. Keep it together, Levan. They trap unsuspecting spacers like that.
It seems like Madeleine found the way to the equipment shop. We walk in, but there are quite a number of other people. A queue.
Uhm, this could take a while.
Yeah.
Probably an hour of waiting. Or so.
Probably.
...
...
...
...
I mean, only one of us needs to stand in queue, here, right?
You'renotgoingtotherobotsexshop.
Wh- how- I would never do that!
Thenthereisnoreasontoletmewaitherealone,right?
You really think I would let you wait here while I go try out a robot prostitute!?
About an hour later, our legs are kind of sore from waiting. But finally, we reach the counter! There is a chubby guy with a robotic arm. His beard is not only greasy but also dirty. I lean against the counter, take a deep breath and try to make my case.
Uhm, we are looking for spare parts for a custom-fit shield generator on a Condor-class gunboat. Apparently we need them from here.
Right, kid. Member card.
Uhm, member card? I do not have one.
Oh? You haven't joined yet?
Joined what?
The New Covenant Church, kid.
I just want to repair my shield generator, Sir.
Uh, sure. But without membership, you'll kinda need to wait a while.
Okay. We have time.
Alright. I'll just need your name and signature on this paper and we'll call you once we start the repairs.
He lets a paper and a pen slide over the counter. I grab the pen and am about to write down my name just as Madeleine pokes me in the side.
Youshouldprobablyreadfirst.
No need to, it's just a regular Tee-oh-ess sign-up.
I take a closer look at the paper.
NEW COVENANT CHURCH SIGN-UP FORM
... They almost got me.
No, uhm, I just want repair, not join the church.
Oh. My mistake, wrong form. Sorry, someone must have put that on the pile. Here, I get the right form.
He takes the paper away and leans over to the side, to reach for another paper. He then puts that in front of me and points at the signature line at the bottom, completely covering the rest of the form with his big hairy arm. I kind of would have preferred if he would have used the robot arm to point.
I take the pen and am about to sign, until I realize that the H I had already written on the other paper was there. It is literally the same paper.
Sir? That is the same form.
Really? Huh, someone must have replaced the forms with that one.
It is literally the same paper, Sir.
Eh, just sign it, I'll transfer the signature to the right form afterwards.
... Can I please just get the right form so we can do the repairs?
To my surprise, the young woman from earlier showed up behind the man on the other side of the counter and whispers something in his ears. His eyes widen and he stares at Madeleine. He then hastily gets up from his chair and pushes a button. The display above changes from "OPEN" to "CLOSED". He and the woman spit on the floor, staring at Madeleine.
Tarxien scum!
The people behind us gasp audibly and stare at Madeleine in disgust and mutter things under their breaths. Given the air suddenly was thick enough to, uh, I guess catch a crashing Spatial mid-air, I take Madeleine's hand and lead her out of the equipment store. Someone yelled a slur after her.
We move on, trying to get some distance between us and the shop. We sit down on a bench. Madeleine's face is flushed and she is panting slightly.
Well, that was something. Given we are no longer welcome at the equipment shop, we need to find a different way to get the spare parts. There have to be other equipment shops here. I am not going to join a religion to get my ship repaired.
I also have the slight suspicion that Madeleine enjoys the negative attention a bit more than she should.
To calm down a bit, I thought it would be best to get a snack. I mean, I have my WaSP with me, but Madeleine probably wants something with a bit more substance. I lead her to a small rustic restaurant on one of the lower layers of the space port. Less crowded, and hopefully far away enough from that weird woman and the other churchists. That is a word, right?
We sit down at a table and a young man quickly notices us, so he gets over to us with the menu booklets.
Not that I am hungry - not in the slightest, even. But I am curious nonetheless. Most restaurants usually advertise real food instead of synth stuff. But apparently someone heard my prayers about more variety on synth paste and synth gel stuff. Synth ice cream!? Wow, even looks great! Purely made from synth gel, too.
It does not take long for the waiter to arrive and take our order.
Uhm, I, uhm, would like to, uhm, try the Synth Gel Banana Split!
In that case I believe we have just the right menu for you.
Without any other word, the waiter takes our booklets and vanishes in the kitchen. I throw an unimpressed look at Madeleine. Her cheeks are rosy again, and she pulls the zipper of her suit down a bit, revealing a tiny bit of clevage. Her boot is playfully rubbing against my leg.
I am not sure whether I can allow myself to do that, considering there are two OSN articles out there about me and my entire NNStaGram account is flooded with all kinds of dubious requests.
IguessI'mluckytohaveyouformyselfforachange.
It... certainly is nice that you wanted to come with me. I thought you were pretty much done with space after the fight with the Rogues.
I am not playing hero, Madeleine. That police officer would have died without our help, yes, but- uhm, I was just thinking that, uhm...
I thought that if we did not help him, those Rogues would at some point get us next. The lane from Denver to New York is the longest lane in Sirius, and the most dangerous one, too, despite the OPP right next to it.
Good, then let us just say that it was convenient that the people attacking the LPI were Rogues and not Xenos.
Areyoustillsecretlysendingdonationstothem?
No idea what you are talking about.
I smirk at her as the waiter arrives with...
One Synth Gel Banana Split for the pious young man...
The waiter places the plate with festively decorated, incredibly smooth orbs of synth gel-based vanilla ice cream sandwiching an almost fully transparent Cambridge banana, frosted and covered with a spectacularly hat of cool whip, probably also made with synth gel. It was a sight to behold, and I suddenly craved this delicacy as if I had not eaten in days. I need it. Without hesitation, I grab the spork and scoop up some of the extremely soft gel cream. Just before it could reach the safety of my mouth, I watch the waiter kneel down on the floor right next to the table to place a pet food bowl next to Madeleine.
And for the Tarxien scum, shredded steak with a bone. Cardamine flavor. It's on the house.
Without giving us time to grasp the reality of the situation, the waiter leaves.
Levan?
Yes?
Canwepleasestayhereforever?
I slowly rise my gaze from the pet food bowl up to Madeleine. Her face is red and she is shivering and panting. The tip of her boot is right between my thighs.
Are you... alright?
I'veneverfeltthishotbefore.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?
Suffice to say, we did not stay at that restaurant and left instead. Without paying, even. I have no idea what is wrong with Madeleine, but I think I just found out that she might be a little crazy. Is that a kink? Definitely weird.
I lead her away from the restaurant, and after a few minutes, she seems to be calm again. I sit down on a bench with her.
Damn, we need those spare parts, Madeleine.
I'msurewe'llfindanotherstore.
Hopefully. That church must have quite the influence here. Maybe you should stop trying to trigger these people at every chance.
N-no!? We came here for spare parts, and that is all I want!
Sure.
... Do not give me that look, you are the one who got hard from getting treated like shit! Anyway, we need to focus. We need a map or something. Maybe ask around where we can get the parts.
Maybewecantryanotherspaceport?
I am not letting a few fanatics stop me.
I get up and take Madeleine's hand, pulling her up to me.
Come, we will beat them!
Madeleine and I keep exploring this chaotic space port. In a way it feels like a giant shopping mall, just a bit more hostile. There are quite a lot of shady people and bars, the occasional bounty hunter group in their guild uniforms, too. I always find them intimidating, really. They do not have that much of a presence on Denver, or at least not in David's Hollow. Come to think of it, none of the big groups have anything in David's Hollow, except for Kishiro and Cryer. There is a small Ageira outlet store but they only really sell expensive PDAs and related software. Kishiro on the other hand operates the landing pads and offers repairs for smaller crafts.
A little girl stumbles and falls to the floor. She cries silently, holding her knee with both hands. No parents in sight. Who would let a child run around in such a place!? We walk up to the child and I kneel down in front of it.
Does it hurt much?
She looks up at me, tears running down her cheeks but she seems to be rather calm.
Just a bit!
Madeleine, can you give me your derma-stick?
Without saying anything, Madeleine opens her shoulder bag and gets me the medipen. She always has one with her. I show the girl the medipen.
That is a derma-stick. Heals small wounds in just a second! Can you show me where it hurts?
The girl nods and reveals a little red patch of skin. Barely anything, really. But children always cry over the slightest ouchies, I guess. I carefully apply the medipen to her knee. As I take it away, she smiles cheerfully at me.
Thank you so much! Who are you?
I am Levan. Levan Harlow!
Thank you so much, Mister Harlow!! Uhm, can you show me how to write that name?
Uhm, sure!
The little girl produces a little piece of paper and a pen from her jacket's pocket and hands me the pen while holding the paper. I take the pen and as the first pit of ink leaves a mark on the paper, I realize what was going on. This was an inside job.
NEW COVENANT CHURCH SIGN-UP FORM
I drop the pen and rip the paper out the child's hands and TEAR IT APART! (The paper.)
I do not know what it is that draws me to Ames. The entire system is a nightmare. This idea of space weather sounds hilarious, but in reality, it is horrifying. Kristoff, Aspen and I almost died out here when we got lost. The Search & Rescue patrols really saved us back then. And yet... I cannot help but find this place fascinating. I guess that is what Madeleine meant when she told me about enjoying sitting indoors while a thunderstorm rages outside.
Not that the Kay is in any way comparable to a freighter or anything, but I figured I can stuff the cargo bay with some Synth Paste and haul it to Ames. I know they do not have a biodome and mostly rely on recycling waste to protein bars, so I guess a little bit of variety is appreciated. Although I am not sure whether what is used to make Synth Paste is actually better than, uhm, well, poop.
... It probably is.
They also have a bunch of plant trays here and there to grow fresh plants. I guess they also use poop to fertilize them? I usually avoid thinking about the circle of life and how food is made, but, uhm, I guess poop is an essential part of the cycle. Madeleine would be able to talk about this in her typical monotone voice with a professional attitude, using all kinds of strange words I never heard before to circumvent the word poop. Hanging out with her, or with Kristoff, too, makes me realize that I really missed out on years of education.
I remember how bad it was when I left Pittsburgh. Suddenly I was not surrounded by abusive kids and wardens, and instead by researchers, cyborgs, mercenaries, zombies, space fishes and self-titled heroes. Everyone flings complicated words around left and right. Except Yoshiko. She definitely uses a language I understand. It is good to know that there are people out there that are normal. Normal-ish. A shame people look down on people like me and her. Caliban insults her left and right whenever her name is brought up, despite her never having done anything bad. She makes a honest living.
It is simply unfair, really. These people do horrible things every day. Caliban, Renevant, Silverstone, and this Levinathan, probably, too. But, sure, Yoshiko is the disgusting one, right? She enjoys selling her body to make other people happy. And all these people have sold their souls and bodies to make everyone else miserable. There people are all fucked up hypo... hypo... hyposhits.
I just hope Kristoff is doing well. I think there is nothing I can do about his obsession with the Technomancy. The moment this Levinathan showed up, he was all eager and giddy and convinced that returning was a good idea, despite everything that had happened. He does not fit in that group at all. He is a gentle soul. The Technomancers are completely different. I simply do not see how his motivations match theirs at all. Does he still just do it because he wants their acknowledgement? I guess Levinathan is some kind of father figure to him. I guess that is something I cannot relate to at all. And he does not seem to desire my acknowledgement, either.
Whatever makes him happy.
I am sitting on a bench here, my legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them. Ames is a bit colder than the Kay. I can feel it in my face. My suit keeps me just warm enough, but I still notice it. Just like that, I gaze out of the window and watch the station shield keeping the dark matter storm away. I see the whirls and different shades of darkness forming all these random shapes. Somewhat mesmerizing.
Monique does not understand why I am enjoying stargazing this much. She needs her mind constantly occupied, be it with games or videos or music. I myself prefer watching her play instead of playing with her. Weird, really. Whenever she is bored, she searches desperately for something to do. I guess I profit from that, considering how often that something turns out to be me.
Madeleine on the other hand seems more like me when it comes to boredom. I do not know if she feels boredom, given her monotone attitude is super hard to read. I sometimes think she is just content with existing, knowing that nothing matters.
But me? I do not know boredom. It is a completely foreign feeling to me. By leaving Pittsburgh, infinite possibilities opened up for me. And with all this OSC money, I can do a lot more than the average person. Monique often complains about me wasting time by not wasting the money. I have almost no desires. I already have cool clothes, a gunboat, two girlfriends and a boyfriend. Stargazing makes me happy. Just thinking keeps me busy for days. I also do not need expensive food. Synth Gel is fine every now and then, but even that is not really that expensive.
Monique asked me to get some holotainment bands so we can try out some new things. I am not sure if I want that, but I guess it is worth a try. She always wants to try new things. Drugs, food, games, as if she was addicted to making new experiences.
And here I am, sitting in the eye of a storm, just staring at it. Rambling thoughts. That is all I have. My existence does not matter. Nothing matters. The Sentinels have not been around in months, so I guess I am fine? Relevant probably forgot about me, too, now that Levinathan is there. Good. The old cunt can die in a bonfire after all she did. Kristoff told me she was actually after me. First Rebecca, then Caliban, then her. Without firing a single shot, I pissed off people to the point where they want me dead. I guess a human life really means nothing to these people at all, if they try to solve everything with murder at the slightest disagreements.
Space is horrible. At least here at Ames, things seem to be calm.
One of the risks of visiting other stations or worlds is that they all have different environments. Some stations are kept cold by their supercoolant loops, others are under steady heat because of smelters and other kinds of factories. The air on freeports usually comes with some texture and freshness because of their biodomes and hydroponics, while other stations keep the air sterile. On Ithaca, the air was more like on Pittsburgh. Dusty, almost toxic. Unfiltered.
At first, I was afraid that I inhaled too much of it and got myself poisoned. Or maybe I touched some dirty wall covered in a layer of bacteria from an unknown world. My entire body was shaking and even in clothes, I felt incredibly cold while sweating at the same time. My muscles became sore and weak, and moving got more difficult, exhausting and uninviting. I had to sneeze over and over again, to the point where it hurt my spine as all my muscles tensed up to shoot spit, mucus and bacteria out of my body.
I told Madeleine to stay away, and she called for a medical robot to help me. The den must have looked as pristine as never before when precisely one medical robot from the Cryer vet service arrived to scan me. It did not take long until the horrifying diagnosis was revealed.
I have a cold.
No space-bacterial infection, no exotic virus, no poisoning. Just a cold. I guess my immune system is quite good, considering I never had a cold before. Maybe it is the Synth Paste-only diet, or maybe growing up on Pittsburgh boosted my body's internal defenses. For all I know, I was never sick in the mines, and I was never sick after leaving the planet. This is a new experience to me, and I do not like it.
When Monique found out I got sick, she decided to sleep in Kristoff's room. He is not on Denver anyway, doing who-knows-what in Kusari. I have not heard anything from him since he sent me to return his stolen ship. I did that, told him, and still nothing. Starting to get worried. If I was not bound to the bed, I would have tried to find out more. But like this, even thinking is a chore.
I am stuck here, in bed. I cannot breathe through my nose, so I breathe through my mouth. I hear my own breathing like that. I hear the music from downstairs. The voices of the people there. Occasional laughter, rarely someone gets louder in jest and banter. Monique does that, too.
Madeleine enters the bedroom, gifting me her idle gaze for a moment before marching over to the balcony door to open it wide. It is afternoon in David's Hollow, quite warm outside with a nice breeze. I can hear the rustling of the leaves. Perks of living in a smaller town on Denver. The blue flusters and other birds are chirping their songs. With the door wide open, the wind made the curtains float lightly. Being overly sensitized, I immediately felt the wind on my sweaty face and shuddered.
But she keeps the door wide open. I did not see it, but Mika must have waddled right after her, got on the balcony and jumped up the railing. The little cat loves sitting in the flower pots to sunbathe. And occasionally nibbling on Monique's herbs.
Madeleine moves over to the cabinet and slips out of her black skirt. Her top drops to the floor, too. Then everything else. As she enters the bed and gets under the blanket, I open my mouth, intending to ask her if that is a good idea. But she is always wrapping herself around me. She carefully shifts her weight on her knees and elbows, trying to not make it hard for me to breathe. Nevertheless, her chest puts some weight on mine. Not enough to make breathing harder, though.
She burrows her face in my neck. Her voice is muffled.
The warmth of her body was helping, but also kind of restricting. The fresh air mixed with the scent of her thin body, her perfume and her shampoo. If I was not wrecked like this, it would be quite romantic, if not sexy. Her lower body is brushing against mine, but without a reaction. I am quite worried that I could be smelly from sweating all day, but I guess she either does not mind or I am still fine.
I do not think I will become like them. Look, I am not a knight in shining armor. I do not care about good and bad. I know that those Rogues could have gotten a problem for us at some point, and that destroying the Brutal Capitalism was the right call.
That is just how space is. It is unfair, and you cannot get around making these kinds of calls. Everyone is armed to the teeth in space. These Rogues have no backbone, no morals and no regrets. Whenever I get the opportunity to kill them, without putting myself into too much risk, I will.
...Iwasafraidyouwouldsaythat.
Hours passed. This conversation was over, and eventually, we fell both asleep. I open my eyes again as the sun is going down. Madeleine's weight is making breathing difficult, so I push her off me. Kind of difficult, with both of her hands under my T-shirt and her legs intertwined with mine. Being all weakened does not make it any easier. Under great efforts, however, I get her to lay at my side. Only now I realize she is awake and stares at me.
As she says all this, a lot is happening under the sheets.
I wonder where Kristoff is. I guess this is how Lea feels when I do not respond to her comms. Except that Lea and I are not a couple. But I guess, when you like someone, it does not matter what relationship they are in. One gets worried about the other.
Madeleine is right. If I die out there, nobody would know. They would find out way later.
Quite the irony, actually. I set up a transmission to several parties in case I die. Every two weeks, I need to refresh my signature. If I die or get kidnapped and I do not get to refresh it, several parties will get this transmission and learn everything about the Sentinels, about the Technomancy, about Renavent and who she deals with. About Caliban and about Kristoff, too. And about Harbinger.
I told Kristoff about this, and he begged me to stop it. But I told him that I will not. And that it is my only leverage. He does not know how I set it up. That is something I simply cannot tell anyone. Not Madeleine, not Monique, not him.
I guess I really am not a knight in shiny armor if I put everyone in danger like that. But damn, if any of those people wants to kill me, they will regret it. They want to set Sirius on fire. If I die, Sirius will be on fire.
Madeleine is such a pretty woman. Her make-up gets all messy, and she rarely smiles, but still. It is not like she is as passionate as Monique, and by a long shot not as skilled as Yoshiko, but Madeleine has something mesmerizing about her. I know her for a long time now, but she is still so difficult to read. I do not know why she loves me. I made her rich. She will never need to work in her life. But she is still here, still enduring me despite how worried she gets about me.
She cares for me when I am sick. She just accepts how life is unfair. She is so much more intelligent than I am. Probably more intelligent than anyone I know. Intelligent enough to know how fucked up Sirius is. And yet, here she is. Sweat is dripping down her body. I can barely move. She does it all. She does not care about anyone hearing us. The balcony door is still wide open.
I hold her as firmly as I can. Her breathing is quite uncontrolled, even now. She is calming down, though. We both stink now. Mika is no longer on the balcony but sits at the edge of the bed as a loaf, sleeping.
I do not know if you care, but... you definitely make it difficult for me to leave.
I am about to pass out. I figured wearing the thermo softsuit would be enough to keep me warm, and a few days in bed would have done enough to get me back on my feet. It was wrong. Barely made it to the freeport.
Everything is spinning around me. I feel incredibly tired and whoozy. It is difficult to keep my balance. My breathing is heavy and audible. The mooring procedure feels like it takes an eternity. Luckily, it is automated. It is a habit that I stay in my seat, just to make sure everything goes well. It always does. The ship shakes once. Moored.
Tonight Freeport 11 will do. With Kimiko's voice lingering in my head. So familiar, yet so different. Harbinger's voice, too. Godlike, yet flawed. A god would not have selected something like Caliban to be his pawn. A god would not have selected Lazurith as a pawn. A god would be able to do as it pleases, without the need for a human as key.
Even worse, though, I hear this melody, this rhythm. It persists. In my head. I stand up, lock the controls and slowly make my way over to the bunk bed. And immediately drop. I roll on my back, grab the zipper at my neck and pull it down to free my chest. Breathing felt difficult, I had to do it. Growing up in the mines taught me to not expose my skin, not even when I sleep. A habit I never overcame. I always sleep clothed. I know Kristoff dislikes it. I know Madeleine and Monique dislike it. I cannot overcome this feeling of being unprotected. Something happens and I need to stand up. Cannot be naked.
And yet I free my chest, to breathe. Sucking in the filtered air of the Kay, filling my lungs. Exhaling, letting it all out. Slow and steady. I close my eyes. I pass out.
One is a young man. He wants to prove his value to someone who does not care about him. He could have a silent, happy life with me. But he was brainwashed, to the point where he believes that what they all want from him is what he actually wants himself. I know it is not.
He lay in bed with me on Freeport 14, in our little room. I held him. He was clinging onto me as if nobody had ever given him a feling of sanctuary. I held him the entire night. Kept him warm. I held him.
Imagine how the world must have been to him when he chose me to provide sanctuary. I am a tiny bit smaller than him, and way more slim. I am bones and muscles. As silly as it sounds, the only thing suitable as a pillow might actually be the meat between my legs. And yet he kept clinging onto me like I was what he needed the most. And I believe I actually was. Not sure if I still am.
The other is a young-ish woman. Or was. She got a kick out of adventures. She loved to explore systems, look at anomalies, all that. Where other people chase for the sexual objects of desires, she was oblivious and chased thrills and mysteries. When she found out that my personality is fractured, she was intrigued. Not because of concern for me, but because of the scientific compent. A boy that has been abused for years, who developed another personality to hide what is broken beyond repair. Something that desperately tries to keep the boy from returning to Pittsburgh.
Callofthevoid.
But then she died. First she vanished for a long time. Then I got proof that she died. Audio logs about her final days, and one final log that contains her dying in agony. I listened to it over and over again. Over and over and over and over again. I was hoping to find a hint, something that would tell me she is not dead. Something that would prove that it was not her voice. There is none. I listened to her screams over and over again. I tortured myself to endure it. I cried, panicked, held my head. All the images my mind made up. What could it have been that killed her? What was it.
She died, alone. End of her story.
I had another friend. Extraordinary. In every way. In the most literal sense, not from this world. Proof of concept that there are no gods. Died and returned as space fish. Aspen warned me not to fall for her. Then she vanished and died. Now that friend is an alien, speaks in funny ways. She remembers me. But it is not the same anymore. She has moved on. Went with the flow.
I have you, Madeleine. You and Monique. One that could not be more simple-minded, and one that could not have more going on in her head. It all started out very simple. Sexual desire, attraction, a chain of opportunities. All good, all happy. Now I have feelings for both of you. Both of you, and still for him. Does that make sense? I hate it. Kimiko called me Eros. I guess that flattered me the same way calling her a butterfly goddess flattered her.
In reality, though, it makes things complicated. When it is more than just attraction, that is. I got myself into danger because of my feelings for him. And now he is in a position where he needs to choose.
Kristoff is a key. One of two. Harbinger said it himself. There is one person willing to become the key in his stead. But he wants to protect that person. It is hilarious. We all know that opening the Vault will result in a massacre. Death is certain for anyone who will be present. Harbinger laughs in our faces, fully able to destroy anyone getting in his way. Kristoff knows he will die. Still, he thinks he needs to do it. Otherwise, that person will die in his stead.
Feelings are in the way. And feelings are the only reason why this is so difficult for us. I cannot let go of him.
All this stress does not help getting healthy again. I remained in Delta for a day, just moored to the freeport. Lay down on the bed, passed out immediately. Slept restless for two hours, woke up, almost pissed myself, then went to bed again, slept for another two hours. This constant sweating while freezing is hilarious! What is wrong with my body!? I drink a lot of water, force some Synth Paste down my throat. Cannot taste anything. I just know one thing: Staying in Omicron Delta will not make anything better.
What is this system, anyway!? Nobody ever gave me an answer why it is a tube. I came here to get answers, but now I have only more questions. I think I understand the situation a lot better now. So many pieces on the board. I need to leave Delta. Am slowly making my way over to the pilot seat, breathing heavily. I feel like I could pass out any moment again. The autopilot will do. Has to.
Theta. 41. 7. 3. Cambridge. New London. Manchester. Coronado. Barrier Gate will do for now. Just away from this hell hole. Away from them.
Need to stay awake. Cannot allow myself to pass out mid-flight. Death sentence.
PDA. Need to... text Madeleine. Need her. Need her intellect. And her care. My body is shaking. I need her to watch over me. I need her. I cannot rely on Kristoff...
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:29
Coming back home. You were right.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:30
I know.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:30
About what, though?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:32
I feel miserable. Hard to stay awake. I need you.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:33
You mean, I need to get you?
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:34
I don't know if I can do that on my own, Levan. Can't Kris get you?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:38
I can make it back on my own. Do not worry.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:38
I met Harbinger.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:39
I need you to help me think something through. Help me think.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:40
And keep me awake. I might pass out. Just turned CrestFM to the max to keep me awake.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:40 Levan has sent an image!
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:41
Kimiko, or whatever is left of her, and Harbinger.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:42
That image is zoomed in, right?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:45 Levan has sent an image!
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:45
YOU HAVE BEEN THIS CLOSE TO THEM!?
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:46
LEVAN, DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH!?
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:48
...
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:48
How did you get the Kay on that image?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:49
Madeleine, if either of them had wanted me dead, distance would not have mattered.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:49
There was a third one, but it kept hiding in the nebula.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:51
I need you to visualize all of this. So many people involved, with their own plans.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:53
I was offered something, and I need to figure out if it is a good idea.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:55
If that offer came from a nomad, you should probably decline regardless.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:55
It is not that easy.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:55
They are not united.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:56
I will tell you more when I am home. It is so complicated, really.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 23:58
How long until you are back?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 23:59
Not too long.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:00
Unless I get intercepted again. Nosy Corsair woman.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:05
You really suck at not making me worried.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:08
Where is Kris? Get him to bring you home!
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:09
No idea. They fucked off when bounters and Core arrived.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:11
They?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:12
Kristoff and the other Aunexians.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:14
Levan.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:15
You went to the Omicrons, on your own.
Surrounded by nomads, auxesians and corsairs.
While being sick and weakened.
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:19
When you write it like that, it reads rather silly.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:20
Come home. Don't get yourself in trouble, just come home, okay?
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:23
Working on it. Might shoot some Rogues destroyers on the way, though.
NothingMatters (Madeleine)at 00:24
...
levan.harlow (Levan)at 00:26
Just kidding.
I put the PDA away. The autopilot handles the flight. Hopefully. I pass out in the seat.
It is in the middle of the night when the Kay touches down in David's Hollow. Orange street lamps keep the small city lit. No soul around. It is cool-ish despite the notable lack of wind. Just me, slowly trying to make my way back home. My entire body is shaking. I am wearing this black thick-skinned thermo softsuit, and I know I am sweating, but I feel extremely cold. At least I am not sneezing like crazy right now. It literally hurts to sneeze. It is painful. I have been through so much worse, and yet, this is painful.
Walking through the night on my own like this is somewhat scary. I am usually fast and nimble, but I doubt I could do anything if I got mugged now. Not that I have anything of value with me. On Pittsburgh, seeing someone like me all alone in the night would be a welcome tribute to the slavers. Luckily, not an issue on Denver.
I need to rest. I need warmth. Everything is so cold. Do not pass out, Levan. One mile, that is all. You can do it.
I open my eyes. I am surrounded by warm water. What a nice feeling. My head rests on something soft, too, but it is not a pillow. I slowly come to my senses.
Moving is almost impossible. I am being held. I see the ceiling of the bathroom. The tiled wall. I am looking down, as far as possible without moving my head, as otherwise I would get water in my mouth. Steaming water, with very small ripples. Foam. Hands. Not my own. Legs. Not just my own. This is Madeleine. She is holding me. We are in the bath tub. She keeps me hugged rather tightly, and I guess the soft material I am leaning against is her torso, with her small chest.
Her hands are caressing my chest. Yet I can barely move. Her arms keep me in place, firmly wrapped around my frame. I can feel how the skin on my fingers is turning all wrinkly from the water. I guess we have been in here for a while.
And here you are.
So intelligent that your mind takes apart the world we live in.
Looking at everything with realism.
With little place for awe and wonder.
Maybe your way of seeing things will change again.
For all I know, when I was on Pittsburgh, I never expected to survive.
And yet here I am, in your arms. Rich, with two hot girlfriends.
Powerful enough to murder despite my little twink body.
All it takes is the Kay.
Andallittakesforyoutodieisoneoverestimation.
I wish I could have these kinds of conversations with Kristoff, too.