#this is set post Out and also contains Nastya which is a fun sequence of words to write

[regicidal-defenestration]

Mechtober Day 30 - Death/Endings

@mechtober2022

"Captain Reeve of the SS Ursa Major speaking, log number 43, standard date 30/2/97.

"All supplies are at good levels for our current progress, algae production is a little under quota but M. Jackson assures me we still have enough for our fuel. Various minor repairs have been carried out to moderate success, but the lights will actually switch on now so I'm not going to complain. Crew in better spirits than last week, or at least they're not threatening the food stasis chamber anymore. Reports of my joining in on the threats have, ah, probably been exaggerated but I can't say I'll be upset when we touch down planetside and finally get some fresh vegetables. Have tasked M. Ness with increasing the efficiency of the engine and that seems to be working at keeping xem out of trouble.

"Then there's the matter of our, uh, newest passenger, she's currently present as I record this. Joined us on 21/2/97, refer back to log number, uh, 41 it'll be.

"Crew have taken to calling her Borealis, from the system we found her in. Still hasn't spoken, though she evidently understands us since she communicates in other ways, albeit rarely I admit. Two days ago she agreed to Dr. Lora carrying out a full medical examination, results of which show a clean bill of health. Nothing out of the ordinary for a human in her later twenties.She will stay with us until we next touch down planetside or…"

Reeve pauses, rubbing his eyes. She glances up at the woman sitting opposite, the one the crew have call Borealis. 

Part of him reaches a decision.

"Skies- okay fuck it, I'm sorry, I can't keep up the professionalism anymore. And if some pencil pushing desk jockey is thinking of writing me up for this- well- just hear me out, okay?"

She looks over at Borealis, then motions to the voice recorder. Asking if Borealis wants to tell her own story.

Borealis just shakes her head, making what Reeve assumes is a you go on gesture. He takes another moment to gather his thoughts before continuing:

"Okay, yeah, alright, because the thing is, Borealis got a clean bill of health, yes? Great, good, we like not having medical emergencies on board. 

"But that leaves me to ask, how the fuck can someone float - entirely exposed! - in the vacuum of space, for however long it was before we picked her up, and come out of the other end perfectly healthy? And when I say perfectly healthy I, uh, would like to note that this is excluding the blood test results, which just showed mercury. Not, not mercury in her blood, I mean mercury instead of."

A heavy sigh. She's had to rethink a lot of her held beliefs about how the world works recently.

"Look- look okay yes, I know how this sounds. You're probably sat there at your little desk thinking “skies above, she's lost his mind, he needs to be removed from active duty before she fucks something up fatally”. But Lora's medical files are all here. Read them. Or, get someone with higher security clearance to read them, and ask really nicely for the summary.

"Because I am not even in the vicinity of fucking around right now. We have, on board, an otherwise perfectly normal, alive, human who has pure liquid mercury in her veins and survived in space for-"

"Nearly 78 years," Borealis interrupts.

Reeve yelps in surprise.

"Well fuck me! You can talk!"

Then she grimaces.

"Ah, sorry. You surprised me. Uh, so, for the benefit of the log, that's Borealis who just spoke. Wait- what's your name?"

"Nastya."

He offers B- no, Nastya- a smile he hopes is reassuring.

"Then it's nice to meet you properly, Nastya."

A pause.

"Can I, can I ask…?"

"You are wondering how I can survive, yes? You will have to content yourself with not knowing."

"But-" Reeve tries to protest. Nastya interrupts her before she can get any more out.

"No. Was it a mistake when Carmilla brought us back? My opinion changes still."

That last part was quiet, like Nastya had entirely forgotten Reeve was there. For a moment, there's a faraway look on her face, before she jolts back to the present.

"But I do know this - the secret of what she did should die with us. And I am dead, that is all you need to know."

Reeve blinks. 

Dead?, he thinks.

"Dead?", she says aloud. "But you're here, speaking, breathing, the all of it!" She gestures at Nastya. 

"You're - this is gonna sound so rude I do apologise - you're unnaturally alive."

She makes a maybe gesture.

“Yes. And no. I… felt my blood slow and solidify in my veins, and I knew I was dying. When we wrote ourselves immortal, the universe believed us, and when I wrote myself an ending it believed me then. I think, I think I believed myself too, for a bit.”

The pause lasts forever.

“So I took the last memory I had of my love, and I cast myself into the void. And there I floated, systems offline, until you found me. I am alive, I breathe, and yet - for all intents and purposes - I am dead.”

Either that was an elaborate metaphor - which Reeve never could get the hang of - or she was telling the truth, which would be exponentially worse.

"You faked your death?" he asks, not a bad guess considering. "You’re not on the run from the authorities or anything?"

“I’m definitely wanted by the authorities, but that is another point entirely."

Nastya laughs at his gobsmacked expression.

"Don't worry about it. Let’s say though: yes, I did fake my death. I lied to the universe in its entirety that I was dead, and got away whilst everyone was distracted.”

Huh.

It didn't make sense, per se. You couldn't get a fake death notice to trick the abstract concept of "the universe".

Then again, it was a big world out there. Skies only knew she'd seen some weird shit out in space.

"So you’re gonna just, what?, stay on the run? Will no-one notice that reports of your death were greatly exaggerated?"

Nastya's laugh is genuine.

“No. I’m going to find some forgotten corner on some backwater asteroid and camp out there.. If I live a quiet enough life, then there will be nothing to sing about. The universe will look over me in search of something more interesting.”

There's something unspoken there. A quiet life, a life alone. Lonely at the end of space, maybe to end when Nastya died, or maybe she never would now, and would keep living until the stars gave out.

It sounded nightmarish.

Didn't Nastya have someone though? Reeve is sure she mentioned-

"You- didn't you say you had a lover? Maybe if-"

“She's dead.”

There's grief in Nastya's voice, but a quiet acceptance too. It must have happened a long time ago.

Reeve makes a fist, pressing it to his heart.

"I’m sorry."

Nastya offers an almost-smile. When she speaks, her voice is small.

“She… she died one piece at a time, until one day I looked into her eyes and saw no trace of the one who I had loved. The bonds between us faded and broke one by one. It's a terrible thing to love someone like that. When the one now bearing her body and name is not the one you fell in love with."

She stops, wiping at her eyes with a sleeve.

"Sometimes I dream that I'll find her again, on the other side of the horizon. At the end of everything."

Nastya is deep in her memories now, saying nothing. Reeve reaches over, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently.

It's as cold as the grave.

They sit there as the silence expands around them. Reeve wishes she could say something, but this is grief on a timescale he can't even begin to conceptualise.

Maybe it's a long time before Nastya next speaks, or maybe it only seemed like that. She squeezes Reeve's hand in return before taking hers back.

"Look at me," she says in a thick voice. "I'm sure you have more important things to do than listen to an old lady's sorrows."

Old? Reeve almost asks, but figured Nastya was right. She'd content herself with not knowing.

"Not too much, honestly," she says instead. "I'll finish this report log an-"

“Report?”

There's a sudden sharpness to Nastya's voice.

"Yeah, uh-"

"No. The music is broken, okay? There is no more music, no more story. There is no-one pulling my strings, there is no-one writing out my actions. I am dead, I have ended. The universe moves on without me and this is the freest I have ever been."

Desperation creeps in.

"Please, let me stay that way."

And Reeve wants to, skies he wants to. But lying to Central is unthinkable and not sending a report at all is even more so. Besides - it wouldn't just be his job on the line. Her entire crew could go down with her.

"I- Central- Central policy states I have to make these logs, twice a week minimum," he tries to explain. "Doctors reports, maintenance records, observations. I’m sorry, I don't know-"

A beat.

Then Nastya's pushing herself up and away from the desk, half-running out of the door. 

Reeve lets her go.

He sighs, burying her face in her hands.

"Yeah," she says quietly, in a way that doesn't make it all alright.

"Yeah…"

"I guess this is Captain Reeve signing-"

And that's when she cuts herself off. He watches the light on the recorder flash its steady rhythm. Waiting for her.

"Fuck it."

She almost laughs.

"Recorder, delete that entire log. Get up all of them since the 21st too, they need editing. Oh, and call in Lora too. There's something important we need to talk about."