Witness

An excerpt from Peripatetica, by M. K. Sebastien, Engr. ret.

Thursday, 29 Dec 2518
Kuiper II Class, Summer’s Gift
En route to Bernadette
03:35 hrs, ship’s time

        Waking up at the start of the day still had the ability to surprise and humble me. Surprise at finding myself alive, and humbling to realize how much I owed my life to the rescue team’s integrity when they found us. Truth to tell, if I had been presented with the dilemma of exposing my home and family to a plague ship over saving what souls might still be alive on board, I don’t know if I’d have done the humanitarian thing but instead have burned the entire lot and scuttled it. As we made our way to Bernadette in hock to our eyeballs in hospital and decon bills, I could see I wasn’t the only one thinking along the same lines.
        Everyone was quiet. Christian, I expected him to be, given he’s the most thinky person among us. Arden, likewise, though I have to admit I missed his banter at our meals. As for Rick, he kept himself busy trying to resuscitate his seedling nursery and keeping his alligators entertained. And Nika…Nika worried me. There was a stare in her eye I didn’t like and she kept to herself too much. I got in the habit of looking in on her as she put in time in the chair, and sometimes I would sit with her. We didn’t talk and I didn’t pester her with questions as to her welfare.
        Dying and coming back from it changes you. It affects everyone differently as they work through it and I didn’t want to mess that up for her. So I kept an eye on her and waited to see what happened next. I didn’t have to wait long.
        I’d just checked the bridge during my stint on midwatch and was walking by her quarters when I heard her.
        Nika?
        I don’t remember going in. I only remember my shock as I flipped on the lights and found her sobbing. She flinched and her crying took on a keener pitch. A pitch I recognized…
        The mountain air was crisp and cold and cut right through me, making me shake. The night was clear and the stars were bright and they called to me—oh God they called to me—but I was broken and I could no longer fly. Something inside me shattered and ripped me open and everything inside poured out, slicing my throat to ribbons. The ground was hard and refused to take me when all I wanted was to die. I hated it. I hit it with everything I had and screamed til I could no longer hear the stars’ call….
        She fought me. I grabbed her wrists and dodged her kick and tried to hold her. I failed. My head swam from déjà vu as I raised my hand and slapped her.
        “Stand down, dammit, it’s me!”
        Nika inhaled reflexively and I lowered my voice and gentled my touch.
        “Breathe.”
        I was cold and the stars were bright… and oh, dear God, they called me….
        She went limp as she sucked in air and I rocked her, as she soaked my shirt and cried. I closed my eyes and knew I could never grant her peace or give her back what she’d lost.
        They called me…
        So I gave her what I could. I stroked her hair, wiped her tears and held her, and waited til she was through.
        Never to be mine….

        I left her sleeping in her bunk. She didn’t wake as I tucked her in.
        I could hear him moving in the gallery behind me, and I dreaded his touch, his concern, his questions. He stayed silent and remained where he was, and I was grateful for it. My throat was raw and my gut was churning from my misery, and I was so damned tired I lay right there in the dirt and waited to die. Above me the stars burned down and I closed my eyes to keep from seeing them, but I felt them anyway, tugging at my senses and calling me. I clutched the hard ground and knew nothing would ever be the same. My innocence was gone and it hollowed me. I listened to the night breathing in the courtyard and waited, for either epiphany or extinction, and when oblivion came, I welcomed it…
        I turned off the light and closed her door.
        Bokh bit s’vamieh, Nika. God be with you.
        I whispered the benediction to our sleeping pilot and continued my rounds, and when I saw her at breakfast I made no mention of what I’d seen.

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