May I enjoy My Life: Entry 18

Entry 22 Day 50

If you had told me that life on Terra could be “normal” two months ago, I’d have said you were crazy. Terra’s a damn death world with everything and everyone trying to kill you. 

Only…not quite. Life has been…well, pretty normal. Work at the hospital has been frantic to get all these new infected processed. Every single patient we admitted after the County Firth Bombing is now infected with oripathy, and we’ve started them all on drugs. Some of them are taking it well, either with stoic resolve, or optimistic determination, especially since we’re loading them up with front-line oripathy treatments. 

Others…well, others are not taking it so well. We’ve got several patients on suicide watch due to becoming depressive when they were informed of their diagnosis. The heavy trauma they’ve undergone in addition to the infection doesn’t help, with many of them having lost loved ones. 

One of them is a young feline man, aged 25, named Ashley Hill. He was a bricklayer from County Firth. I was checking in on him as a part of rounds, and found him brooding in his bed. 

“Good evening, Mr. Hill,” I said, tabbing to his chart on my tablet. “How are we feeling?”

He didn’t say anything, and I double checked to make sure he was awake. He’d suffered a severe head wound along with both legs being broken in the blast, and of course, had inhaled a massive amount of originium. He was awake, and I reached for my penlight to check his pupils. 

“Piss off, I’m bloody fine,” he growled. 

“You don’t sound fine,” I said, stepping back and examining him. Both his legs were still immobilized, and his head bandaged. He’d had surgery to repair his skull, but hadn’t seemed to have suffered a traumatic brain injury. 

“The fuck do you think? I’m a bloody infected now,” he said, glaring at me. “I’m gonna fuckin’ die.”

I glanced at his chart. COA 2%, mild lesions on his skull. BOCD at .21 u/L. Stage one infection, very treatable.

“Probably of old age. Or the cigarettes you smoke,” I said, seeing he was a smoker from his chart. 

He frowned at me, his brow furrowed. “What? I’m fucking infected, I’m gonna die of oripathy.”

“We’ve got you on Vitracline. If you avoid further exposure and manage your health, you’ll stay in stage one for multiple decades. By the time you hit stage two, I’d be more worried about lung cancer,” I told him frankly. 

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have it,” Ashley growled. 

I held up my right hand, and slowly tugged off my glove, then turned it so the palm faced him. 

He squinted, then blinked. “Bloody hell, they let you be a doctor with that?”

“We are on Rhodes Island. I’d say more of our medical staff is infected than not,” I said, taking a seat on a stool. “So. You’re not going to die, not anytime soon, and my best health advice is for you to give up the pack-a-day habit you’ve got going if you’re worried about dying young.”

“I…I haven’t had a smoke since I’ve come here,” he admitted. “I want one, bad.”

“Well, I can get you a nicotine patch. That will help with the cravings. Nicotine isn’t great for you, but it will help you kick the habit. You’re about my age, so I’d hate for you to get these wonderful oripathy drugs, only to smoke away your health.”

“Right, I suppose.” He fiddled with his robe for a moment, then looked back up at me. “It’s…it’s not really the dying that’s bothering me, Doc.”

“Living with oripathy can be hard,” I said, giving him a sad smile. “I know that as well as anyone. But it’s treatable, and manageable. I won’t lie to you and say that this isn’t going to suck, or that you haven’t experienced a tragedy. But you can make it.”

“Yeah, I just…” He sighed heavily. “Don’t know why I’m bloody mentioning it.”

“Mental health is just as important as physical. It’s why I’m here. Tell me what’s bothering you,” I urged, tapping in a few notes. This would be something for our psych team and social workers to follow up on. I can heal the body and help with the mind, but our recently infected support network is just as important.

“It’s…my fiancé. We were getting married in a couple of months,” Ashley said. He swallowed. “She’s…she’s not infected. I’ve tried writing her a letter, but I just…I don’t have the words, you know?”

Ah. “There are ways to prevent transmission to a partner. A condom is one. Others are drugs you can use, especially if you’re trying to start a family. But I imagine that’s not what you’re really concerned about.”

“No, that’s…I guess that’s good to know, but…” He had to dash away tears. “Fuck, she wouldn’t want to marry an infected! They’ll cut my hours at my job, I can’t support a family like that! I-”

“Slow down there, boss. Vina Victoria is the Speaker in Victoria now. She’s already put through several protections for the Infected, including protections in the work environment. If the rest of the legislation her party has proposed is passed, it would make discrimination against infected individuals illegal,” I told him. 

This was all stuff I’d learned post coming to Terra. With so many of our patients from Victoria, I’d gotten a crash course in how the Infected were treated there. Seemed like Siege was doing good work. There was resistance of course, but she was trying to build a bright new future in Victoria for the infected, and so far, seemed to be succeeding. 

“Fuck. I was just complaining about how the infected were stealing jobs, but now…” Ashley looked distraught. “God Save the Queen, I suppose.”

I decided not to argue about how Vina Victoria wasn’t actually a queen. “It’s different from the other side. Who’s your sweetheart?”

“Georgia Waterson. She works at the dry cleaners. Met her a couple years back at the pub. We hit it off, and, well…we were getting married in the fall,” Ashley said miserably. 

“Tell me a bit about her,” I encouraged. 

“She’s kind, funny, and a great cook. And she has the biggest,” he grinned lasciviously and made cupping motions around his chest, and I chuckled and nodded. “Wonderful woman. When she said yes to me…best day of my life. But…now…she didn’t agree to marry an infected…”

“Where I come from, the marriage vows say ‘in sickness and in health.’ Is it the same in County Firth?”

“I mean, yeah, but…” He shrugged and looked miserable.

I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t lie and say it will be easy, or that she’s sure to say she still loves you and wants you. But, and take this from someone who will never see his family again, you won’t know unless you ask. You have a shot to see her again someday. My family…they’re gone. I would give anything to see them one more time. So, Ashley…write her. Tell her what happened. That you still love her. And ask her to marry you again.”

“What if she says no?” he whispered, sounding hopeless. 

“Then it will hurt. As bad is it hurt when I realized I’d never see my parents again. That I’d had the last beer with my brother. But you’ll get through it. And I hope you can get through it with Georgia. I’ll have one of our social workers come by and help you with the letter if you want.”

“I…yeah. That’d be good. Thanks, doctor…?”

“McCoy. James McCoy. Keep the faith, Ashley. Don’t give up hope. But maybe give up the cigs, alright?”

He laughed at that, and I put in an order for nicotine patches. 

Now, if this had been some sappy romance movie, when I came out of the makeshift curtain that divided his hospital bed from the others, Sussurro would have been there and overheard the whole thing. Obviously, she was too damn busy with her own patients. Some of them were at the point where we could think about sending them back home, but a lot of them were still in critical and intensive care, and while we weren’t all hands on deck anymore, everyone was working long hours. 

So I moved on to the next patient, who was a young girl who had lost her mother in the blast in all likelihood. She was maybe 13, and trying to be brave, but I let her cry on me for a little bit. She was down to attend Rhodes Island school and potentially become a child soldier. Which was when I went over to Kal’tsit’s office. 

She looked up at me as I shut the door behind him, a mountain of paperwork on her desk. 

“Dr. McCoy, I am somewhat busy, but I see the look of a man who is about to burst. What is the issue?”

“Patricia Flowers. Operator training?” I said, holding up the file. 

Kal’tsit set aside her pen and nodded. “Yes.”

“She’s thirteen!” 

“I am aware.”

“And we’re just…going to turn her into a child soldier?!” 

Kal’tsit steepled her fingers. “Ah. So this is a moral crusade.”

“Just…we’re the good guys, right?” I said, feeling lost and confused. “So…why are you creating child soldiers?”

“Mmm.” Kal’tsit stood and went over to a painting of a lone figure in a dusty traveling cloak walking through the wilderness and regarded it. She turned to me after a few moments. “I take it that on your homeworld, such things are rare occurrences?”

“Not as rare as I’d like, but it’s monsters like Kony in Africa who use them, not civilized people! Then there’s kids like Lisa, or Rosmontis! They’re operators here too! And don’t tell me it’s just on paper, I know they’ve both been on combat deployments!” 

“Indeed they have. Quite effectively as well. Both possess some of the strongest arts of any operators, including adults.”

“So just because they’re good at killing things means they should?!” 

“In an ideal world, no. But in an ideal world, no one  would fight, Dr. McCoy. Tell me: what then, should I do with Patricia Flowers?”

“I…” I fumbled about for a bit, then managed, “Find a family to adopt her, I guess?”

“She is infected. Do you know the rate of adoptions for infected children, Dr. McCoy? No, you obviously do not. I will tell you: It is less than 10%, even in Victoria, which is somewhat more enlightened than other places. The best she could hope for would be to be placed in a sanitarium or labor camp, where she would slowly die of her disease, or more rapidly of the various upper respiratory infections and other diseases that plague those places. So, I am faced with a conundrum: I can condemn her to death at such a place, alone and unloved, or, I can find her a place here.”

“But she’s 13! She— she should be going to school, play games! Not going out onto the battlefield!” 

“This is a harsh and unforgiving world. She will need the skills to defend herself. And, while Rhodes Island is a charity…our funds are not unlimited. We cannot afford to care for many useless hands, for we have too many who are too sick to contribute that we care for already. Patricia is young and strong. If she is listed as an employee and trains to go on missions, and indeed, on a few low-stakes missions, participates, then she can support not just herself, but others. 

“She will indeed find opportunities to attend schooling and play games, to be a child. But I will also see to it that she gains the skills that will be useful to her one day, and is prepared to fight. Because she is now one of the infected, and despite your remarkable gifts, Dr. McCoy, you cannot hope to cure all the many millions across this world, nor even the thousands that call Rhodes Island home. So young Patricia Flowers must be prepared to fight for not just her future, but everyone’s. 

“So yes, I will train her as a child soldier. I will put a sword in her hands, or a wand, or a bow, or a healer’s staff. Whatever weapon she takes up, I will see to it that she is prepared to defend herself and those she loves in a world that would see her dead. Because I am the Protector of this world, James McCoy. I was created with the sole purpose of making this world livable and safe for those who live in it, and I will be damned if I sit here and take a moralizing lecture from someone who has not had to endure the 13,000 years of suffering that I have!”

Kal’tsit wasn’t shouting by the end of her speech, but it felt like she was. She paused, and took a deep breath, but before she spoke further, I interrupted. 

“Sorry. You…you’re right. I just…fuck. I can accept that I am going to die. That I’m going to die fighting for the Infected, probably by curing some dumb schmuck who doesn't deserve it. But…but it’s a lot harder to accept that kids like Patricia are going to die in the trenches with me.”

“If I have my way, she will not. Lisa and Narcissa are…unfortunate cases. They are pieces so powerful that I am forced to deploy them more often than I would like. Patricia is not such a piece, and unless my reading of her file is wrong, is unlikely to become one. But in this fight for the fate of the world, even a lowly pawn can be powerful if put in the right place, at the right time, by the right hand. For millennia…that hand has been me, James. Yes. I hate myself. I hate that I must employ child soldiers. But to me…you are all children.”

I digested that for a bit. “Ok. I…I was wrong. I shouldn’t have run in here all hot and bothered. I guess…I guess I should have just trusted you.”

“On the contrary. Thank you. Do you have any idea how rare it is for someone to challenge me in good faith on a moral basis?”

“Uh…by your comment, rare?”

A wistful look appeared on Kal’tsits face before vanishing. “Amiya is the only one now who does so with any regularity. Before her, Theresa had the temperament and ability to do so. But Theresa is dead, and Amiya…while she is still an idealist, she has become hardened to the grim realities of the world. You, James McCoy, are not yet so hardened. So I am glad that you have your moral objections to the more despicable tasks I must undertake. One day…one day I hope to build a world where such is not necessary. But that world is not here today. So we fight on.”

“Yeah. Makes sense. Thanks, Director. For listening. And caring. Coming to Terra has been…hard. I had no idea how good and soft my life was before.”

Tears glistened in Kal’tsit’s emerald eyes. “One day, James McCoy, I hope that this world will become so soft and good. That children may forget all thoughts of war. That oripathy will be scourged from the land, and that my children, all children, will live in peace and freedom. And then, at last, I will find my rest.”

Was this really the woman who had led countless crusades? Who had put kingdoms to the sword? Or were those all just delusions found in the Furnace of Souls? I didn’t know. I hadn’t paid enough attention to the lore, but…I was pretty sure Kal’tsit had plenty of blood on her hands. Had she done it all for a noble cause, or was she just trying to repent for past wrongdoings?

I can’t read minds, thank God, but I like to think the Old Well has always tried to make the world a better place. Rhodes Island is just her latest project. 

“Well, for as long as I’m here, I’ll fight for that. For Patricia, for Lucia, for…for everyone.”

“Then return to work, Dr. McCoy. For there is much yet to do on this day.”

I got through the rest of my shift, but what Kal’tsit had said about child soldiers still bothered me. I just…I couldn’t accept that this was right, even if what she said made sense, and I could believe Kal’tsit was a genuinely good and wise person. 

So, I got a second opinion. Dinner that night was at the cafeteria, with me, Lucia, Texas, and Exusiai. I broached the subject with my usual charm and tact. 

“So, uh, how do you guys feel about Rhodes Island using kids as soldiers?”

Lucia paused with a spoonful of stroganoff halfway to her mouth. Exusiai looked down at her plate, a pained look on her face, and Texas just kept eating. 

“Uh, James, I’m not sure…what do you even mean?” Sussurro said, setting her fork down. 

“I mean, what about say, Lisa, or Rosmontis, or Popukar, or Ceobe. They’re all children, right? Shouldn’t they, you know…not be fighting?”

“They are all competent fighters. I would lose in a fight with Rosmontis, or Ceobe,” Texas said bluntly, which made my eyes go wide. “To not use them as soldiers would be foolish.”

“I mean, OK, maybe, but Bones has a point, you know?” Exusiai said, pushing her food away and looking deeply uncomfortable. “How old is Narcissa, anyway?”

“She is an adult now,” Sussurro said, her ears flicking uncomfortably. “But only barely. She turned 17 a month ago. For a feline, that’s full-grown.”

“Then there is no problem,” Texas said. 

“But she was 14 during Chernobog! And she fought freaking Patriot!” I said, trying to express my angst at the thought. 

“Uh, Bones…you weren’t there. She didn’t fight just Patriot,” Exusiai said, still looking very upset. “She obliterated an entire army. Her and Amiya. Who, are, well, the same age, more or less. I mean, we were there for back up, but…I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone use arts like that…she just…leveled buildings. And threw them at people.”

“Narcissa…Rosmontis…she’s, well. I won’t go into her backstory. And James! Shut your mouth, no! Not here,” Sussurro snapped when I opened my trap. “But, well…she’s an extremely skilled fighter. One of the most powerful Rhodes Island has. She’s saved…so many lives. Yes, she does so by taking them, but…there are battles that would have been hopeless without her. And we need everyone, especially people like her, fighting for the Infected.”

“I was a child soldier,” Texas said, meeting my eyes. 

I winced. “Yeah, I know, I just-”

“No. You do not,” Texas snarled, ears laid back, fangs bared. 

“Woah, sorry, I-”

“Shut up.” We all did, and Texas inhaled through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment before she opened them, but they were still glowing faintly with barely suppressed rage. “At the age of six, I was sent back to the homeland. To Siracusa. There, I trained, night and day, under the best masters. I killed my first man at the age of seven. He was unarmed. Tied to a chair. I slit his throat, because he had dishonored the Famiglia.”

I felt sick, but held my tongue. Lucia was starting to look furious though, her own ears laid back on her head, and, wow. Guess she had cute little fangs too. And growled. 

“At the age of eight, I was sent to kill an entire family. They were armed. They were ready. They knew I was coming. I killed them all. I was injured, nearly lost my leg, but I killed them.”

Exusiai was looking horrified now, her halo actually dimming as she put an arm around Texas, who didn’t shrug her off, which was unusual. Usually, she didn’t like being touched all that much. 

“By age 10, I fought in my first war. I led my own squad. I dealt death when and how I saw fit. Men and women were killed by my hand, at my word. That was when I met Lappland Saluzzo. She was another squad leader in that war.” 

I was gripping Lucia’s hand tightly under the table, feeling completely miserable. I sort of had known this. But I hadn’t known it. Seen the pain in Texas’ face. Seen the hot tears on her cheeks. I had known. But I hadn’t understood. 

“They taught me other things. How to seduce a man. How to seduce a woman. My mezzana was a woman who took my virginity in every way. I was 13.”

“She raped you,” Lucia snarled, and Texas did not correct her. Exusiai was actually crying now, and dammit, so was I. 

“Then, at 16, I returned home. A made woman. I enforced my grandfather’s will as head of the Texas Famiglia. He pointed. I killed. He commanded, I fucked. I was a sword. I did as Salvador Texas commanded.”

“One year later, my father, Giuseppe Texas, rebelled. I did not know what to do. My grandfather and father fought, and my father killed my grandfather. Salvadore’s last order to me was to kill my own father. He was the head of the Famiglia. I did as he commanded. I slew my own father. I was 17.”

Texas’ nails had dug into the laminate of the tabletop, scratching through it to the wood underneath, ruining her manicure and causing blood and splinters to poke from her fingers, but she didn’t seem to notice. “That was also when I met Lappland Salluzzo for a second time. We fought. She could have killed me. She didn’t. We fucked instead. Then she let me go. Then I wandered, lost.”

Texas slowly relaxed, looking away from us, towards the wall. “All this when I was a child. So. Yes. We have child soldiers. I am one of them. Because we must. Because that is what this world is. Because if you do not learn how to wield yourself as a sword…then someone else will.”

“Or,” Texas continued, a hitch in her voice. “Or someone like me will kill you, because you do not know how to be a sword at all.”

“Texas that’s…that’s not who you are, anymore,” Exusiai said, clinging to her friend. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Texas abruptly stood, brushing off Exusiai, and stalked over to another table, where Ch’en was sitting with- wait, was that Surtr and Mudrock!? Both were Sarkaz, one with fiery red hair and a sword set to the side that was bigger than here, while the other was pale-skinned and white haired with red eyes. 

“I need a fight,” Texas growled. 

Ch’en paused in her conversation, while the other two women looked Texas up and down. 

“Cellinia? You alright?” Mudrock asked, sounding worried. 

“No. I need to fight. Can’t smoke. Have to fight,” Texas said through clenched teeth. 

“Texas, wait!” Exusiai said, standing up, but Texas didn’t turn to face her, instead holding out a hand. 

Slowly, Mudrock got up, and she was just barely taller than Texas. “OK, if that’s what you need…I will be the mountain to break yourself upon.” 

“I’ll come too. To supervise,” Ch’en agreed. 

“Eh, may as well. Sounds like fun,” Surtr said, standing languidly and reaching for her sword.

“Texas!” Exusiai cried, her tone anguished. 

“Later,” Texas said, and stormed out, the other three women hurrying after her. 

Exusiai slumped back down, crying openly. Lucia let go of my hand to slip around the table and embrace Exusiai, who cried, hugging her tightly. I just sat there, miserable, and feeling lower than low. 

We all ended up back in Exusiai’s apartment with a bottle of wine. Well, several bottles of wine. Exusiai clearly didn’t want to be alone, Sankta being codependent as I had learned, and well, neither did Sussurro or I. 

“I knew Texas’ story was sad, but…but she’d never even told me all that. I’d pieced some of it together, especially after Siracusa when she talked a little, but…that’s the most I think she’s ever said about her story, maybe even to Sora.”

“It’s my fault,” I said miserably. “I should have just left well enough alone. Child soldiers. Fuck.”

“No.”

We all jumped, not having heard the door slide silently open. Texas strode in, dressed in only a sports bra, shorts, and several bandages, carrying her giant swords. She tossed it all in a corner, strode over, picked up the bottle of wine we’d been working on, and chugged it. Then she slumped down on her own bed, looking exhausted. 

“Texas, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-” I began. 

“No,” she repeated, shaking her head. “You were right.”

“Uh, you sure? Because I feel wrong.”

“You were. You didn’t know me.”

Texas took another swing, and I shifted slightly, with Lucia poking me in the ribs until I stopped, as she was using my chest as a pillow. 

“You knew about me,” Texas said at last, closing her eyes and leaning back. “You knew a character in a story.”

“That’s, uh…huh. Wow. You…you’re right,” I admitted. 

“Now you know me. Now you know why we have child soldiers.” Texas still hadn’t opened her eyes, but Exusiai had taken her hand, and Texas was squeezing the Sankta so hard that her knuckles were white. “Yes. Rhodes Island uses them. But they are…not as I was. Someone loves them. Someone sees that they do not have to do as I did. But when the time comes…they will not be weak.”

“Texas, that’s…that’s all so awful,” Exusiai said, tears still trickling down her cheeks. 

Texas shrugged. “It is over. Now, I have Sora. I have you. I…I miss Sora. She is…good. I do not normally miss people.”

“Have you told her that?” Lucia asked quietly.

Texas opened her eyes and frowned. “No. Should I?”

“Yes, Texas. Yes, you should. Write down…write down that. Tell her you love her, and you miss her,” Exusiai encouraged. 

Texas nodded, then went over to the small desk, took out a piece of paper, and started laboriously handwriting a letter. 

“So, um…if we’re trauma dumping today,” Exusiai said, fiddling with her wine glass. She downed it, grabbed the bottle, and then took another drink. Texas’s ears had perked up, but she kept writing. 

“My childhood was good. Like, really good. My parents? Awesome. Did you know they adopted my big sister before I was even born? They did. I was an accident! They thought they were infertile, but nope! They had me. But…dad died when I was 8. He was old, had a heart attack running his messenger route, passed. Mom…well, she didn’t take it well. She wasn’t as old as Dad, but two years later, she caught pneumonia and didn’t tell anyone until it was too late. After that…Lemuen raised me. She’s…she was my everything. Put up with, um, my rambunctiousness. I guess I acted out a lot as a kid. Uh, 17 explosions in high school isn’t normal.”

Texas had put down her pen and half turned, arm on the back of the chair, to regard Exusiai, who was pouring herself another glass of wine, though she just looked at it, not drinking as she continued to talk. 

“I just…I always wanted to see the world. To be like my dad, and my Big Sis, who joined the Pontifica Cohors and got to explore and fight and do all kinds of cool things with her bestie Mostima! But…but then…”

Exusiai set down her wine glass and put her head in her hands. Awkwardly, Texas got up and put a hand on Exusiai’s shoulder. She started with “Do you want-”

But Exusiai had already dragged the lupo into a bear hug, and Texas gingerly put her arms around Exusiai.

“James,” Exusiai whispered, looking up at me through tear-filled eyes. “Do you…do you know what happened? Why…why did Mostima fall? Why did my sister…why is she in a wheelchair? And why…why won’t she smile at me anymore?”

I thought for a few moments. Lucia was hugging me tightly, and I had one arm around her. I sighed, then said, “Do you know who that guy, the one who was with them, was? He’s involved in Guide Ahead and tried to shoot the pope.”

“Andoain. He…he was my sister’s lover, I think. I’m not sure. I thought for a while she was gay for Mostima, but…no. I’m not sure anymore. He was their captain, though.”

“I don’t know the details, sorry. But I do know that he went crazy, or something, when they touched a feranmut’s corpse, or…look I don’t know all the details. But he went crazy, and I’m pretty sure he shot your sister and crippled her. Mostima, to save Lemuen’s life…shot him back. But, because he was crazy at the time, he didn’t Fall. Mostima, however…she wasn’t crazy. She knew what she was doing.”

Exusiai had listened to all that. She nodded slowly. “That…that makes sense. I think. I’ll have to ask a priest about the whole not falling if you’re mind controlled when you shoot someone…I thought Andoain was just above the Law or something when he tried to shoot Yvangelista. But then you said the Law might be breaking, or dying, and…and then it all made sense. How my sister could nearly be killed by that mother fucker and he still has his halo! How Mostima could fall, when…when she was trying to save Lemuen’s life! It’s just not fair! It’s just-”

She started crying again, and Lucia let me go, crawling over to the other bed and hugging Exusiai much more warmly than Texas, who was trying her best. I awkwardly went over and joined the group hug, though I was more hugging Sussurro than anyone else.

Look, I’m an idiot, but I know you don’t hug another woman when your girlfriend is right there. 

Eventually, everyone called down. Sussurro shared her story about being infected. Then being kicked out of her family. Then, all eyes turned to me.

“Uh, my turn?” I said, feeling awkward. 

They all nodded. 

I sighed, and rubbed my hand through my hair. “Uh, my childhood was…great. Um, nobody died, except Aunt Roberta. She was a kindergarten teacher. Got breast cancer. Didn’t beat it. Huge funeral, everyone cried, about a billion kids who were now adults came and talked about how she changed their lives…I mean, hell, both sets of my grandparents were still alive, though Papa Huey has Alzheimer's and is mostly out of it now…”

I tried off and swallowed, giving a lame smile. 

“Tell us about Earth,” Exusiai said quietly. “What…what was it like, growing up there?”

“It was…well, I grew up in California. Middle class parents. Dad was a manager at Frys, uh, the Electronics Store, not the grocery store. After COVID did them in, he got a job at a tech company managing their sales force, so he did fine. Mom was a secretary at a law firm. Both made pretty good money, but we weren’t rich. It was just me and my brother, Michael. He was super into Boy Scouts, ROTC, uh, Reserve Officer Core Training, and joined the army right out of High School. He had his Eagle Scout and went in as an E-4, which is super unusual.”

I rambled on for a while, talked about learning to surf with my dad, swimming in high school, going to college where I was a huge nerd who rarely partied but got top grades, getting into medical school, trying to become a neurologist, all that.

“And they have you in OriSurg. How typical,” Sussurro snorted, and I laughed. 

“Yeah, residency do be like that on Earth, too. Or so I’ve been told.” I shrugged. “And then, well…I came here. I…”

My voice hitched, and I put an arm to my face to try to stop my crying. Sussurro was instantly embracing me, and I pulled her tight, and she put my face against her chest, stroking my hair gently.

“I…I died. At least…I think I died. There was…there was this kid. Age eight, or something, had on a red shirt, I remember. He, he ran out in front of his school bus when it dropped him off. But there was this asshole in a lifted pickup, barreling down the road, didn’t stop for the school bus. He was gonna hit this kid. I knew it. So, I dived in front, tried to tackle the kid away from the truck. I think…I think I got him. But the truck hit me, and then my head slammed into a parked car, and…and then I woke up in Shiraziberg. And then I met Sussurro and you know the rest of the story.”

“James…you…you died?” Sussurro whispered, cupping my cheek and tilting my head up.

“Yeah, but I must be in heaven, because I got to meet an angel. And I don’t mean Exusiai,” I said, giving her a dopey smile. That might have been the right answer, because she kissed me. 

Texas considered all that, then nodded. “Life sucks.”

“Life fucking sucks,” Exusiai said, raising her glass. “Cheers.”

We all drank again, then, since it was late and we had work in the morning, I said my goodnights, and stumbled towards my room, which was just down the hall. I had Sussurro, so I figured I’d walk her back to her room.

Only, when we got to my door…she stopped. I paused, frowning at her. 

“James,” she said, and then drew me down into a kiss, which I eagerly returned. “I don’t…I don’t think I want to be alone tonight.”

“I…” I paused, considering. We were both pretty drunk. And, well, there had been a lot of emotions flying around. “Are you sure? We’re both intoxicated…”

She growled at me, and pulled me into another kiss, where she bit me on the lip, while at the same time, opening my door. 

You know, that’s not the clearest consent I’ve ever gotten, but you know what? Sometimes, I don’t want to be alone either. And for that night…I wasn’t. 

Maybe I won’t ever be alone again. 

Like I said…maybe it was worth dying to come here after all.