Cost of Living - 2/28

Nikita shut his eyes, the clean sun turning all to white. Smelling oil, dark and sharp, he opened his eyes and saw Stasia working her rifle. The sight of her set the fires of memory ablaze, feeding them with the green of her eyes -- Kate's eyes. Hers too had been the same green of the distant ocean. Still, in the softened light of the past, he could feel Kate's lashes brushing his cheek.

He looked aside, studying the scored metal of the dropship, bits of sand wedged in the scrapemarks. He remembered the scent of jasmine had been on her neck as he had held her, when he had been a whole person. Softly feeling the curve of her back, he had felt her body’s warmth through his fingertips. To her he had described the vast watermass: the shattered greystone cliffs few from Koraalgrad had seen; and the ponderous ocean walls veined in running white.

There had been greatclouds as never touched the city, so low you breathed their fish-thick saltiness with every breath, so dark the world became bloated and the sky swollen with emptiness and nameless malice; indifferent cruelty presided from a distance, while keening winds and earth-eating waves sung a dirge across the graves of his three friends, three of his soldiers, three portions of his heart.

Stretching a hand to the sun, looking on fingers no longer formed of flesh, Nikita’s face shifted indiscernibly. Moving with the vibrations of the engines, warming in the light, he watched his hand become a thing. He’d felt his connection with Kate fade almost immediately, after volunteering for the surgery.

Nikita balled his hand into a fist, needing to talk, but not knowing how. He could see Stasia was still worried; her shoulders hunched and her eyes distant. He should say something, relieve the stress. Clearing his throat, he spoke, "Do you remember your final marksman test?" He waited until she looked up, and then hurried on. "I was there half an hour early, but you were there a full hour ahead of schedule. You barely had time for 'good morning,' much less any warm-ups. You went through that battle range almost as quickly and as accurately as I did."