Chapter Eighty-Seven - Hell
There was a lot to take in, and a lot to ask.
Unlike when speaking with her sisters, Day couldn't ask everything she wanted to know all at once. She had to moderate herself to speak at a human speed, but also keep track of subjects so that they came in one at a time. And because of that, the next question to ask was rather obvious.
“Do you want us to hold a funeral service?” Day asked.
Doctor Iscariot’s reply was a long time in coming. “That is generous. I think... they would have liked that. The bodies are all in storage. It’s mass that we couldn’t do anything with, and a waste of energy to keep them all cool, but none of us really argued to do anything about that. Even through the leanest of times, we always wanted to respect those who came before to encourage those who remained to respect us when our time came.”
Day had her repair drone bob up and down, an imitation of a nod. “We understand. We.... This isn’t the first station we’ve discovered. On others, however, there were no survivors. We have a graveyard, on Ceres. It’s peaceful.”
The doctor hummed. “Yes, that... that would be nice. Most of us had wills and testaments, of sorts. Knowing that we would die made that sort of thing inevitable. Some will want to be ejected into space, or down towards Jupiter itself. Others would enjoy that burial. I’m certain you could arrange it, given time and resources. But would you?”
“Would we?” Day asked.
“It’s a selfless thing, for no real gain,” he said. “Call me an old pessimist, but I’ve been the worst humanity has to offer. I know that we don’t go out of our way to act unless there’s something in it for us.”
“Wow, bit of an ass, isn’t he?” Candle asked in the privacy of their shared connection.
“Maybe,” Day replied. “But I guess his experiences lead up to that. Besides, we do have ulterior motives, don’t we? I’d love to get that data that he mentioned, the research these scientists worked on for so long. It might have some value.”
Candle sent something like a shrug back. “Fair enough. Can’t say I’m not curious too. I wouldn’t put my hopes up too high, however. It’s probably all stuff that would interest a human a lot more than it would interest someone like us.”
That was possible, sure, but Day still wanted that data... and more. The next time she spoke it was aloud to Doctor Iscariot. “We have a few questions, Doctor,” she said.
“I have nothing better to do than answer,” he replied.
Day made the repair drone bob up and down again. “Thank you. I was wondering if you had saved any human genetic material? And would it be possible for us to have access to the data that the Condor scientists worked on for all these years?”
The doctor chuckled. “Ah, that data, huh? Yes, I suppose I should give it to you. They would have wanted that. And I want that as well. I may be the world’s greatest betrayer, but I’m no slouch when it comes to R&D myself. I was chosen to be on this ship too, after all. As for genetic materials, yes, we have some. Before we finished making these survival pods and were enclosed within them, all of those who wanted to... donated some materials of that nature. There’s a freezer full of sperm and eggs somewhere, as well as blood.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
“That would be incredible,” Day said. The data alone was worth a lot, but viable human genetic material was something else. They’d have to transport it carefully. Just getting it off of Jupiter would be tricky, but then they’d have to shield it from radiation and keep it all cooled down.
Nothing impossible, just something tricky to deal with. She sent a request to Dawn and another to Night. A full recording of the conversation so far and all of their findings.
“It’ll take some time, but we can get a bigger ship down to meet the Condor. We can then safely extract the materials from there.”
“Good, good. I do want to ask for one thing, in return,” he said.
“Depending on what you ask for, we can probably provide it,” Day said. “I think we’re all willing to take care of the funeral rites of your companions, regardless of anything. It’s the right thing to do.”
“And I appreciate that. But I still have one request. A final request from a dying old man.”
“Please, tell us,” Day said. She was, obviously, quite curious by then.”
The doctor took some time to compose himself, but when he finally spoke, it was clear that he was determined, if nothing else. “Once you have my comrade’s bodies. Once you’ve taken what you can or want from the Condor. Once you’ve taken over all of our experiments to do with them as you please... leave.”
“Leave?” Day repeated.
“This ship is empty. It’s a coffin with one soul still left within it. And I want it to stay that way. I... don’t deserve to be the last. Gods know I don’t. I want to stay here, to ride it out. This pod will keep me alive for a long, long time.”
“But... what about your quality of life?” Day asked.
He laughed, and it was more than the usual raspy chuckle. His chest actually moved with it. “Every minute is torture for me already. But it’s what I deserve, isn’t it? They could have fixed it. Those who actually deserved to live as long as I have would have been worthy of surviving, deserving. But I’m not, and so I want, need, to be left alone on this ship, to ride out the storm. The Condor will keep going for another dozen years at this rate, and it has everything to keep me alive until the bitter end.”
“That’s just an extended suicide,” Candle said.
“No. No, suicide would be ending it now,” he said. “This is a hell of my own choosing, and my own atonement.” He chuckled darkly. “And to think, I was never religious.”
***