>>5957002You feel your palms getting wet as you struggle to keep the floodgates of memory from buckling, “I... I don't know. After the call I just sit staring at the ceiling for like 10 minutes straight. I guess before that point I still thought that everything was just a social game, that I only need to say the right things and make the correct gestures to win. Like with Salzar." You blush, remembering how you methodically frighten the poor ensign. "But now the ante shot up like a rocket and I don't have no credits to follow.”
“Still, I tried. By God, by void, by whatever, I tried. And missed. Only by a hair's breadth I think. A pip or two off.” The dam's gate held, and only the damn gate. Streams of wet hot regret surge over the top, shoot through widening cracks in the wall, and come racing down your cheeks. Before your hands can cup your face in shame, a handkerchief methodically wipes the tears away.
You open your eyes to Tim half-kneeling, half-crouching on the floor. “Shh, it's fine now. Remember what we did earlier on the station? Breathe with me.” He flares his nostril. “In. Out. Yes, just so. Calm down. Now listen to me.” He settles into a more comfortable position, sitting with legs crossed.
“Chernov consciously chose his way out. It doesn't matter if it's you, or me, or the best negotiator in the whole Directorate, he still would have done it. Hard to understand, but we spacers value life greatly. Vacuum, cosmic rays, micro-asteroids, space is hostile to anything with a pulse. When your life is constantly on the line like that, you learn to treasure every breath and every sip of water.”
His voice grows more intense, focused, “But even above our life we cling to freedom. Indeed, many would say that with a spaceship and a full tank, you can go anywhere you want.” He smirks to himself, “But not me, I'm not so romantic. Fuel will run out, components break down, and sooner or later one finds himself back in the arms of society. Spacers may look down on the folks planetside, but it is ultimately them, you, who made our way of life possible. Do you understand?” You nod, your eyes still stinging.
“Usually people like Chernov can of course ignore this inconvenient truth, but only as long as society accepts them. Once that was no longer the case, however, they are forced to face up to their dreams. Fleeing in a spaceship with a full tank, how long can they last? Realising but not accepting the true answer, they take matters into their own hand. Better they die by their own choice than by a firing squad or a cosmos who couldn't care less.”
“So you are saying that things couldn't have gone differently?” Tim puts his handkerchief back into his pocket, “No, I'm saying that things could have only gone worse. You did what you can, but it's their choice to bring it onto the ship and it's their choice to hold you hostage like that. Can't stand the heat, should have stayed out of the kitchen.”
