by Corey Furman
“Thanks,” he said, then looked at the girls. “Maré, Luna…”
Luna was kneeling next to him, and Maré moved behind her, standing there impassively with her hands at her sides. Harry noticed that she was crying, but it seemed like she was mostly in her head, not here in this room that was beginning to stink with the coppery odor of blood.
“We’re here… Dad,” said Luna, and a tremor passed through Maré. Maybe she isn’t totally here, he thought, but that had definitely registered.
He smiled as he looked up at her. “I’m sorry… for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t… love you like I should have.”
Luna, still holding the towel to his stomach, said, “just get better, and maybe we can figure it out.”
Joss reached up and brushed her face with bloody fingers. “I’m not going to pull through this one, honey.” When she let out a sob he said, “it’s okay, Luna. I’m going to join your mother…”
Without taking her hands off of him, she turned and buried her face in Maré’s side. Harry couldn’t tell if the laceration was bothering her less or if she had just gone numb to it, but either way she hugged Luna to herself, if awkwardly, and watched Breylin with stiletto-focused eyes. She went away for a little while there, he thought. But she’s definitely back now.
“Could you –” he coughed a few times, wincing as each one wracked him. He settled and slowly relaxed. “Would you put on one of the holos of your mother?”
Luna looked up at her, and Maré sighed. She let her go and walked over to the entertainment center. She navigated the menus of the system for a few seconds, and it sprung to life.
It showed a tableau of Larissa and the girls sitting around a campfire somewhere outside. The fire illuminated their faces as Joss was moving away from the camera to sit back down in the circle. He picked up a long stick and stirred the coals, sending a shower of bright orange photons upwards. The sparks seemed so real that Harry almost felt like he was really there, in the shade of some unknown hill or mountain. He understood that the exothermic reaction of combustion was producing motes of red hot carbon, that they were propelled upward on the rising thermals of the fire, but that wasn’t it, or even a part of it. He couldn’t feel the heat, but in some unqualifiable but no less real way it was also magical, and the magic pulled at him. Stealing a quick look around, he saw that the others were raptly attentive to the unfolding scene. Joss was smiling, for a dead man, and he seemed completely lost in the moment out of time most of all.
“I have a small surprise, for you two,” said Larissa, and she pulled a small book out of her pack.
“Hang on now, we haven’t even eaten!” Joss said playfully. The real Joss snorted, and when Harry looked at him, he saw that he was shedding tears of his own.
“Hush you,” Riss said and pointed at Joss. “The Queen has spoken,” she retorted with a playful smile.
Joss laughed and Luna, with bright eyes, snuggled into Mom’s armpit.
Smiling ear to ear, Maré said, “go ahead, Mom, we love it when you read to us.”
“I suppose I can cook while you read…” he said. As Riss was paging through a book, he picked up a few more sharp sticks and produced a pack of sausages. He skewered two and handed them to Maré, who was watching Larissa too closely to notice. He bumped her with his shoulder and handed them to her when she turned. He gestured towards the fire and she held them over it to cook. He speared two more and held them over the flames himself.
“Here we go,” said Larissa. “Snow White and Rose Red.”
“I knew it – I love this one,” said Luna sweetly.
“You gonna let Mom read or keep talking?” said Maré with a giggle, and Luna stuck her tongue out at her.
Larissa cleared her throat loudly, then began to read…
“There was once a beautiful queen who ruled from a grand castle. Near a fountain in the castle’s courtyard was a bright garden, and at the center stood two huge rose bushes, one of which bore white and the other red blossoms. She had two daughters who were like the two rose bushes, one named Snow White and the other Rose Red. They were as good and happy, as busy and cheerful as ever two children in the world were, only Snow-white was quieter and more gentle than Rose-red. Rose-red liked better to run about in the meadows and fields seeking flowers and catching butterflies; but Snow-white sat at home with her mother, and helped her with her house-work, or read to her when there was nothing to do.
“The two children were so fond of each another that they always held each other by the hand when they went out together, and when Snow-white said,”
Larissa motioned to Maré, who emphasized, “We will not leave each other!”
“Rose-red answered,” Larissa said, then pointed to Luna, who nearly shouted her answer: “Never so long as we live!”
Larissa said, “and their mother would add,”
The three of them finished gleefully with, “What one has she must share with the other!”
All four of the people in the image erupted in laughter, while Joss watched, smiled at the happy memory and cried softly. The holo of Riss reading to their daughters and Joss cooking continued to play. Luna was tearing up too, and despite everything that had just happened, Harry was embarrassed to find his own eyes leaking.
After a few moments, Joss dragged his hand across his nose and said, “Girls, will you get your old man to the window?”
They looked at each other, and Maré nodded. Together, they took his arms and got him to his feet, causing him to suck air in sharply. They put his arms around their shoulders, and helped him over to the chair by the picture window. Slowly they lowered him, and he moaned through his clenched teeth the whole way down.
Harry put his hand on his shoulder. “Joss, you want the rest of the painkiller?” He paused – it was just too much. When he continued, his voice cracked with raw emotion. “There’s a good bit here. It will… make you sleep.”
“No… I can barely feel it now, Harry. Will you tell Sirvon… I said I’m sorry?”
Harry nodded, and he cried as the realization hit home that his friend was about to die – and soon, judging by the wet sounds he was making as he breathed.
“Girls, give me your hands.”
Luna cried harder as she answered him, swept up in the emotion of the moment. “You are holding our hands, Dad.” Maré wasn’t, though – she was holding onto Luna – and she made no move to participate further.
He nodded. “I’m sorry, girls.” He coughed up more blood, and Luna wiped his chin with one of the smaller towels. “I should have… been kinder to you. I should have loved you more like a father. Please forgive me…” He spoke slow, quiet as he continued. “Things were sometimes confused… but I remember what it felt like…” Another fit of coughing choked off anything else he might have said.
Maré looked at Harry and Tomas with resignation and a question on her face. “Can you do anything for him?”
Tomas snorted and turned away, but Harry shook his head, wishing he could turn away, too. He wanted to; he felt like an invader now, out of place, and way out of his league. He was angry with himself, and he was certainly angry with Joss, his now dying friend, but he wouldn’t turn from this. No matter what he’d done, he was still Harry’s friend, and as awful as watching him slip away felt, he wouldn’t walk out that damn door to make himself feel better. How could I face Sirvon if I did? And that was what hardened his resolve; her image floated in his mind, and he forced that cowardly need to run to the back of his mind and breathed slowly.
“It’s okay, Dad – there’s nothing to forgive,” Luna said, her voice cracking with barely contained emotion.
“Your mother used to sit here for hours at a time… do you remember? She loved the view… but she was very unhappy. I couldn’t make it better…”
Maré kneeled down beside the chair and looked into his eyes. “Can you hear me, Dad?” she said in a near whisper.
“I hear you, Maré.”
“A lot of your blood is cooling on the floor, and you haven’t got long… do you have regrets?”
He breathed and said nothing, but he shook his head.
“This is what it feels like when you’ve lost everything, when you’re finally at the end of all things, that there’s nothing left. It’s the way you’ve made everyone who trusts you feel, most especially Mom.”
He nodded again. “Yeah… I know.”
“Maré!” said Luna.
“No, dammit! He’s sitting in that chair, looking out at the fucking sunset and dying because of what he did!”
“She’s right, Luna,” he said. “There was too much hurt and anger… I should have moved on…” He paused to gather more breath. “Joined your Mom when she died, but I wasn’t strong enough… like my Dad was… I finally understand what he meant all those years ago… But it’s my time now. Luna, Maré, will you understand? Will you forgive me when I’m gone?”
“All’s forgiven, Dad,” said Luna.
“I can’t listen to this anymore,” and Ridder went to the front door, opened it and walked out.
Joss’ eyes cleared and he sat a little straighter. He squeezed Luna’s hands tight and said, “Do you think God will forgive a wretch like me?”
Maré pressed the bloody towel to her side and stood back up. She opened her mouth to say something undeniably caustic, but Luna shot her a pleading look, and she closed it. Instead of speaking, she gestured with her chin towards him, a gesture that seemed to Harry to say Go ahead Luna, go ahead and comfort him if it quiets your mind, and hastens his death. As she clamped her eyes shut and tears fell, the tight line of her mouth seemed to finish the thought. I’ll remain silent for your sake, but don’t ask me to ease his passing.
“Love covers many wrongs, Dad,” said Luna. “You can rest now.”
Relaxing, he said, “yeah, rest… that will be good…” He slumped, laid his head on the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. He coughed a few times, but feebly. He shut his eyes, and after a few seconds of winding down, he spoke quietly. “Oh, Riss, there you are… the girls and I were just…” He trailed off, shuddered, and stayed silent.
A miserable Luna rose and went to Maré, who held her while she sobbed.
Harry went to Joss, and putting his fingers on his neck looked for a pulse. He thought he felt something weak at first, but as he repositioned he felt nothing.
Harry shook his head in futility. “He’s gone.”
Maré leveled a look at him over Luna’s shoulder. “But the wind’s still howling.” With the tears she’d shed drying on her face and the muscles working along her jaw, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what she was thinking, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Elegy
When Emergency Services and Corporate Security finally arrived, there was nothing left to do but the paperwork.
After the medics had patched the laceration in Maré’s abdomen, they zipped Breylin into a large, black satchel and stowed him in their meat wagon with brutal efficiency. Since he had been dead for nearly two hours, they cared little for the details of what had happened, and left almost before the two CorpSec investigators had begun making notes.
“Mr. Westport, I’m Detective Joe Agabe, and my associate is Detective Portumna.” Agabe was a tall and dark skinned man with close cropped hair. Though he wasn’t thin, his unusual height made him seem lanky. His face was smooth, and his carefully fitted suit seemed to be at odds with his vaguely indifferent manner. His partner was a fiery redhead with a pinched face who kept hugging herself in her long coat, as if she were cold. She looked around the living room, remained silent and avoided Harry’s eyes as she was introduced.
“I don’t want to take a lot of your time; can you tell me what happened?” Agabe said as he pulled out a pad and began to tap in notes with a small stylus.
“Not much to tell, really,” replied Harry. “I came out here with one of Breylin’s simulant subordinates, Tomas Ridder. They’d had an altercation at work, and I was hoping we could resolve it.”
“Seems odd – why didn’t you just do it at work?”
“Well… Joss is – was – my friend, and I was hoping we could keep the issue quiet.”
“I see, please continue.”
“To make a long story short, he didn’t want to talk about it. We argued and said things we’d both regret, it escalated and got out of hand. We fought and grappled. When we tipped over the couch and landed on the table, he was on the bottom. I tried to seal his wound as best I could, but I was…” Harry shook his head and sighed. “In over my head, I guess. He knew his number was up. We got him over to the window so he could look out at the sunset, and he died moments later.”
“You shouldn’t have pulled that shard out, but you were probably in over your head more than you realize. The paramedics tell us the glass pierced through his liver. It’s possible he might not have lived had it happened in the medical facility down in Twilight. Pulling it out of his wound may have hastened his death, but not by much. Nothing you did or might have done would have made much of a difference either way.”
“Thanks… I still feel pretty crappy.” Harry massaged his forehead as he spoke. “He was my friend.”
“I see that one of the simulants,” He consulted his notes. “Maré I believe, has a laceration and quite a bit of blood on her. Can you tell me how that happened?”
“She got hurt while we were trying to help me work on Breylin. Would you like to speak to her yourself… or either of the others?”
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. Westport. This seems like it was an accident, and I have enough information for the mandatory reporting agencies. We’re nearly done here – I just need to tie up the loose ends.”
“Loose ends?” said Harry nervously. “Like what?”
“I need to verify that the dwelling is still useable before I secure it. Other than that, I assume as a representative of your company that you’ll return Ridder to where he belongs, but I’ll need to take the other two with me as abandoned simulants. They’ll be institutionalized until they are either sold off or expire.”
This is it, Harry thought to himself. Really sell it. “Of course I’ll get Ridder to where he belongs, but maybe I can help with the disposition of the other two. My wife and I don’t actually have any simulants; I was thinking maybe we could take them on. It’s the least I could do for him, and my wife and I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Anyway, it’d keep you from having to walk them through the system.”
Agabe wagged his head side to side as he mulled it over. “That would make my job a lot easier – it’s a hassle taking care of simulants on the weekends. I’ll just have the forms sent your way during the week, if that’s okay.”
“Thanks,” Harry said with what he hoped was nonchalance.
“If you would have them retrieve any of their effects, I would appreciate it. Once they gather everything they want or need, you may go, and we can secure the place.”
“Yeah, sure – you should be able to salvage most of the afternoon.”
“Exactly, Mr. Westport,” he replied. “Oh, one last thing – what of Mr. Breylin’s belongings; did he have a next of kin recorded at work? If you don’t recall I can look it up.”
“No, his family’s all gone, here and back on Earth. I suppose there might be a few things we want to take with us, but you may do whatever you want with the rest. May I keep his lift? I might be able to get a few credits for it.”
“Normally we just leave everything for the next tenants, though it’s highly unlikely this place will ever be used again.” He gave Harry a bored smile. “Not too many folks have Zarmina as a destination anymore. Do what you like with the lift.”
“I see what you mean. Well, if you’ll give me a couple of minutes, I’ll have everyone out of your way.”
Agabe nodded, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he went down the hall to t
he girl’s bedroom.
After he dropped them off with Sirvon at their apartment, Harry took Ridder back to his quarters in the work complex. It was a short but silently tense ride.
When he pulled the lift into the compound, he shut down and turned to his moody passenger. “You’re not going to be able to talk about this with anyone. Regardless of what would happen to me, those girls would be warehoused somewhere unpleasant, and you can probably guess what would happen to yourself.”
“I know – you don’t have to worry about me talking… and for what it’s worth, it didn’t go down the way I would have wanted it to,” he responded. “I mean his death. You know that, right? I didn’t give a damn about him, but I didn’t want him dead.”
Harry sighed loudly. “Yeah… Me either. No one killed him, Tomas – not you or me and not Maré. Breylin killed himself. He did it a long time ago, his body just didn’t know it.”
Ridder nodded in acceptance. “Are you really going to take care of those two girls?”
Harry turned and stared out the side window at the approaching clouds. “Yeah, I meant what I said.”
He paused. “May I politely ask you why you’d bother?”
It definitely looked as if another storm would be rolling in soon. “It’s like I said… my wife and I don’t have simulants, and we’d like to keep them.” Now leave it go, please, he thought.
“If you say so. Listen, I know we’re going to have to go back to being what we were before this happened, but sitting here… well, between us, you’ve earned my respect. Very few humans go out of their way to help my kind.”
Harry turned back to him. “As long as we’re being honest, thanks for helping. You didn’t have to get involved, but you did. You are what you are, but you’re a person in my book, Tomas.”
Ridder nodded once more as he spoke. “Damn straight I am.” He pushed the door up and climbed out of the lift. He stuck his head back in. “One last thing.”
“What?” Harry said tiredly.
“When you’re lying in bed tonight and you’re thinking about the two simulants in your home, and how you brought them back from hell today…”