Chapter 32 (November 2959-December 2959)
plotvitalnpc
Once more walking the path of the catgirl.
---
Loving Prometheus Upon the Rock Tools & Dies, Kallipolis, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
November 2959
Johann sat calmly, head of his cane in hand, beside the young philosopher who looked so very excited to watch her precious baby mech do something as simple as walk steadily forward. Frankly, he thought the part where it'd fired that big honking laser it was carrying was more impressive - the thing wasn't that fast, but it did have some firepower - but maybe there was a culture gap there.
A native Alphardian, or even a Niopsian, could have seen quite a lot of big guns in their day, but for either group, the only mechs they'd ever seen in the real world were the battlemechs brought by the 'Claytons', O'Reillys, and subsequent batches of pirates. The idea of actually creating one themself, even if it was just a downtech militiamech, was probably a lot more punchy. Well, even he couldn't count that out of the running for 'damn impressive'. He hadn't heard of anybody ever doing something like it in his lifespan before. Thank god for Star League libraries!
In a few years, would they be getting some actual battlemech walking in this facility? He'd pay a lot of money for the chance to see that.
"So," he began, smiling softly. "You say you expect this variant of the Hecatoncheires will begin entering production next year?"
Philosopher Carol Herning nodded sharply. "Yessir! More precisely, next year is the slated date for the opening of the first line of serialized production for the core chassis of the Heca system, which will be received by more specialized lines for refit into particular trims. I really hope the militia will find what we've been making for them useful!"
The patrician militia would love these things, and so would the Special Armored Police of the Tribunal and the Promethean Guards. Well, she was trying to impress him, so naturally she wouldn't bring up the other, less general-purpose standing militias in the country.
"And when do you expect to open the second line?" he asked, smiling with his cheek in one hand. "I understand that it's a big line with a lot of chassis-per-year, but at the end of the day, the civilian trims are scheduled to take up something like ninety percent of the production, right?"
And that was more reasonable, in his view - militarizing an industrialmech gave you a bad warmachine, whereas keeping it working its original task gave you a useful economic asset. The only reason he'd really been interested in the construction of a militia trim for this thing was the longstanding plan to start reprioritizing the construction of a mixed-class standing army once proper battlemechs entered production, which meant that the individual armed forces of the three governing estates would no longer be the chief recipients of military production.
A standing army was something that had always been allowed for by the constitution they'd written, in the same article that allowed for those estate forces to be requisitioned for the formation of a temporary army. It just hadn't ever been done, because they didn't want to start by building a lopsided force. It was funny how they were just skipping right to that one, actually - he'd really expected Niops to go up in a war a few times before, but the first ever activation of the Armed Forces of the Marian Union was looking to be the one that'd stick.
"That's a bit more up-in-the-air." she confessed. "But our plan is to continuously increase the output of the first line with added sub-lines and work to bring more online throughout the next decade at least, until we have the theoretical capacity to, running at absolute max capacity, produce two thousand, one hundred, and sixty chassis per year. We won't actually be operating at that level - to conserve on capital good wear and tear, seven hundred and twenty is more likely, yielding roughly two battalions of these militia models per year - but it's important to note the maximum capacity for these things."
Johann snorted. "Just casually quoting an absurd number like that."
"Sir?"
There was a part of his brain that couldn't believe that number, even knowing that right now the Hekatoncheires was the biggest single iron in the fire for this country - it was using more resources, and scheduled to use them for longer, than even the goddamned battlemech program they had in the works. It was big enough to put a measurable burden on the growth rate of the capital goods industry, Alan had told him. Because when you were developing the most miserable, underdeveloped regions of the galaxy, nothing could do the job better, or across more terrains, than industrialmechs.
So they needed at least six hundred per year to start chipping away at the crushing deficit of heavy equipment in rural regions and building upon earlier mechanization work.
It probably helped that the things were pretty dead simple too, though.
There was one thing he wasn't quite sure about, though.
"Now, pardon me for asking." he sighed, glancing over to Herning. "But one thing I've been wondering is, why invite me now? My daughter, I could understand - she's all but taken over the job from me, just like you grabbed it off of that Viletta chick. Petra could probably have a more meaningful conversation with you about this, about where we're going with it, and about what we're hoping for in the militia."
Carol frowned, pulling her feet up from the floor of the observation deck and putting them on her chair, her arms wrapping around her legs. "I didn't want to do that."
Johann covered his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "And why not?"
"It had to be you, sir."
And just why would that be the case? Was this too dull to explain to anyone but a bag of past-prime bones?
Her voice cracked as, unprompted, she continued her thought. "It had to be you, b-because… because you're Consul Johann O'Reilly, the champion of peace! Because you're one of the founders of this nation, and… because I've always admired the work you've done for the people of Alphard. My grandmother told me, once, about the time you came to our village during a power outage. She said you were an unpleasant, impatient man, but she also said…when push came to shove, you didn't hesitate a second to push for a permanent solution to our problem - you had them install a wind farm up on the ridge, so that the power line between us and the city wouldn't need to be repaired so desperately again."
Did he do that, once? Johann covered his face completely and sighed. It must have been so long ago. "...I haven't done that kind of field work in over thirty five years."
But he understood, now. For him, it might have been tuesday. He didn't really know at all, couldn't claim to. But for this girl, the day Johann O'Reilly came to her little village was the most important day in her life. Or, well, potentially. Was she even born yet?
"Well, I probably never would have spoken my first words, if not for that." she mumbled. "I was about one the next time the intercity line snapped - about three years later - and I would have died of a fever before it got repaired, if the medicine in storage hadn't been kept fresh. That's what my mom told me. That's why I decided to try and join the Promethean Order - because you were my hero back then."
"A patrician's your hero, so you become a philosopher." Johann snarked quietly, unable to keep himself from smiling.
So that was who he really was nowadays?
"...and that's why I wanted to make sure you knew, the nation you worked so hard to build is going to be fine after you're gone." she concluded.
- -
Kallipolis Central Park, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
Same Day
"Grandpa!" Lily grumbled. "Grandpa, are you listening to me?"
Johann blinked, massaging his forehead briefly as he looked back to the eight year old. "I'm sorry, dear. I got caught up thinking about something that happened earlier today. What were you saying?"
The girl puffed up her cheeks and reached over, lightly tapping a balled up fist against his forearm. "I was asking what you want for your birthday, grandpa! But you weren't listening, so I guess you don't want anything?"
A smile cracked his face, a snort escaping from his aged snout. "Oh, Lily. You don't have to give ol' grandpa a birthday present to begin with. I'll be perfectly fine just having you there, y'know?"
He watched as her eyes went wide from shock. "...But you always give me a present, grandpa. Why don't you need one?"
Reaching out, he patted her head vigorously, making sure to send her short-cut hair every which way in the process. "I'm glad you think that way, but at my age there's not that much I'm looking for anymore. Getting to meet you was one of the best presents I ever got, though."
Her cheeks went red. "That's not right, though! You should still get something!"
It was hard for the old man to do anything but smile. The weather was warm, the wind was blowing, the birds were chirping, and he was here with the granddaughter he never thought he'd have in his lifetime. This was good. Well worth the forty years of honest work it took to get here.
Truthfully, so was the knowledge that the things he'd done had really mattered - had really helped people. Those goddamned 'Clayton' softies got the last laugh, it seemed - who was the softie now?
"Say," he began, looking up at the sky. "They still have art classes in elementary schools these days, Lil?"
He could feel from his hand alone how vigorously she was nodding. "Yahuh! Mrs. Blumen says I'm real good at drawing!"
"Does she?" Johann asked, filling his voice with all of the awe he could. "Well, then, you know what I'd actually love to get for my birthday? I'd love if you were to draw me something you think is nice. It'd mean a whole heck of a lot to me."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "That's it?"
"That's it."
She cocked her head to the side, looking at him curiously, but ultimately seemed to accept it as she went in for a hug. "Okay, grandpa!"
Of course, he returned the hug.
Lily mumbled into his side. "I'm glad you love me, grandpa. Not like papa."
Johann's heart froze for a second. "Your dad loves you very much, Lily."
"Nuh-uh." she responded. "He always says he doesn't have time, or something. He's not like you."
Johann held his granddaughter tighter. He knew he didn't have much longer, and like hell was he going to let his first precious little grandchild lose him while thinking he was the only one who loved her or some shit. "Yuh-huh. He's always bragging to me about you, you know? Has he ever missed your birthday? Christmas? Has he ever not been at home for a week at a time? Has he ever not been there for you when you had a real problem you needed help with? I know for a fact he's helped you with your homework a few times."
Lily made a strained sound as she thought it over. "...No. But he never has time to play like you do!"
"Oh, Lily." Johann chuckled, tears beginning to come to his eyes. "Adults usually don't have time to play. They're busy with their jobs a lot of the time - and your dad has one of the biggest jobs of them all. Your grandpa's different, - auntie Petra does my job now, so I've got all the time in the world to spend with you, but Alan can't spend nearly as much time as he'd like to with you, because he's working to make things better for you an' for everyone. It's a big, big job, making things better for everyone - and one day, it might be your job. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you."
He wasn't made for these sorts of sappy conversations, so he wasn't sure how well it was working, but he had to try to help her understand. And then, when he got home, he was going to yell at Alan over the phone to spend more time with her, even if it meant letting some non-critical shit go to Amy.
---
Castle O'Reilly, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
December 2959
Johann flipped the pages of the book in his hands slowly, skimming the pages as they passed him by. In truth, he had no real interest in the swamp cats from equatorial Alphard it described, even if the pictures were cute, but it was what he'd grabbed earlier, so it was what he was stuck with.
Johann had never been scared of the end before. Angry at it, sure, but never scared. All those decades ago, his life had been just something he was using for the time being - an instrument that served his one lingering goal.
When had that changed? When had he come to love his life again, so much so that he was desperate for a little more of it?
Was it when he got married? When his first child was born? When she learned to walk? When she learned to read? When she became an adult? When she got married? When she had her own child? When did he cross the invisible line where the quiet self-hate inside of him boiled off and was replaced, of all things, will contentment?
Johann Sebastian O'Reilly had been a thug. A poor mechwarrior, a poor judge of character, and a poor human being. He'd been a drunk, a druggie, a washup, and once nearly a pirate. He was a murderer a dozen times over, and he'd only had a good reason for it three times. He was the man who would have been Caesar, if he hadn't been foiled by some meddling kids.
When did Johann Sebastian O'Reilly become a good man? A good husband? A good father? A good protector to the citizens of a nation?
When did he stop having regrets, and why were they coming back now?
He closed the book with a sigh. The way things were going, he didn't think he'd ever see one of those swamp cats with his own eyes, so what was the point of reading about them, really?
The door opened. Alexandria's voice spilled through it. "You okay in here, Johann? They're serving dinner now, so unless you want it cold, you'd best get up now."
It was a persuasive argument. The staff in this castle were top notch when it came to cooking, but only when the food was eaten at the intended temperature. However… "I can't."
Immediately, there was a note of concern in her voice. "You can't? Can't what?"
"Stand up." he clarified, gesturing to his legs as she came into vision. "I ain't been able to feel these for a few minutes now. Actually, my fingers are starting to go too, now."
"Shit!" she hissed, her eyes slamming shut. "Why didn't you call for help, then? That's really, really bad! This is the sort of thing where we need to get you to the doctor right away!"
The consul sighed, covering his face stiffly with one hand. "So she can do what, exactly? It's been awhile we've known something like this was coming, and I don't rightly expect any last minute miracles here. Eighty nine is already a pretty wild result, for someone the likes of me."
"Even so," she insisted, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Maybe she can get you a little bit longer. Make sure you're more comfortable as it happens. Anything! You shouldn't just stay here and accept it like that."
"Yeah, it ain't good to accept it." he agreed. "There's a lot I left undone, when I think about it. If I'd known it was going to be today, I would've asked you for a last dance, for example. While it was still possible and all."
"Damnit, old man!" his wife grumbled. "If you're going to do hypotheticals like that, at least think about what'd happen if you had the chance not to fuck your body up to begin with."
Johann snorted. "If that'd come and gone, we never even would'a met, because I would have shacked up with your ma' seventy years ago. Well, maybe that's still something I regret, but I don't want to throw out what we had for it. I mean, lookin' at it straight, thirty four years was a pretty long time to be together - it's half your life to date, and not that much less of mine. We even had some grandchildren within my life."
"It wasn't long enough."
"It definitely wasn't."
"I'm calling help to get you to the hospital."
Johann reached up to caress her cheek. It was a shame he couldn't really feel it as he made contact. "I'm not telling you not to. But… be ready for it not to work, okay? For me to be gone. Don't let that be a surprise, because it's probably what we've got coming."
"Dumbass."
"Brat."
How long had it been since they'd teased each-other with those kinds of names?
- -
"Alright, they're coming to help us get you down the mountain." Alexandria declared, stepping back into the room. "We're doing everything we can for you, you know?"
Johann smiled. "I do, and I'm unbelievably grateful. For everything, really. Who knows - maybe this really will save me for awhile. But, even if it doesn't… I want you to remember that you already saved me a long, long time ago, and the result was this life we had together. This crazy, eventful life."
Alex's face scrunched up awkwardly as she nodded. "Coming to Alphard was definitely the best mistake we ever made."
The old man smiled. "That too, but you did it way before then, honey. How many years do you think we drifted before coming here, exactly?"
"Don't remind me."
"I'm reminding you~!"
She pinched his ear, and he smiled even as he winced in pain. "Good to know I'm still working that close to home. Means we've still got time to talk. Really, that's probably all we've got time for now."
She rolled her eyes. "Jackass. If time's so short, why are you spending it on cheesy jokes?"
"I just want to appreciate the…" he began, a faint chuckle escaping him. "Unbelievably long, roundabout, twisty-turny, insane road we've walked to get here. It's been wild, you know? We ended up as some sort of royalty by the end - that's insane, given where we were through most of it."
"It's true. They're not going to let your funeral be a private, respectable matter for a second after the big ass life you lead." Alexandria huffed, leaning into give him a hug. "Thanks for reminding me how much of a pain in the ass it'll be, dear."
Returning the hug, he sighed. "Even so, I'd appreciate it if if you tried to make it the best it could be - really capture my good side with it. I'll only ever get the one, after all, and in another thirty four years, I'd at least like for it to be something you can think about without too much trouble."
"I don't want to say goodbye."
"Neither do I."
The two sat in silence for a bit, feeling each-other's warmth for what could be the last time ever.
"...This is selfish of me, Alex," Johann began, his eyes closed. "But there's a letter in our safe - the one in our bedroom. I think you know what the envelope looks like, right? I'd like to have that letter with me when I'm in the hospital."
"Are you finally going to read it?"
Johann snorted. "Maybe. I can't say for sure if I won't be a coward to the end."
She pulled back, giving him a tired look. "...Alright, I'll bring the damned letter."
"Thanks, Starlet."
Those were the only words that came to his mind.
---
Chaldea General Hospital, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
December 2959
John rushed into the room like a stampeding bull. "Johann, what the hell's going on here?"
The O'Reilly patriarch gave him a tired look from where he lay immobile in the bed. "You're late, kiddo. What kept you the last few weeks, exactly?"
The giant's face flushed at the question. "Hearing that you were on your deathbed set off my own condition - I had a heart attack, so they pushed ahead on replacing the problem parts in me. The hell's going on, though, O'Reilly?"
"Maybe it's better that you came late, though," Johann mused, looking very much like he would have liked to rub his chin, if he could. "Because we didn't narrow down what's probably happening until last week at the earliest. It ain't exactly a common problem I got going on, so there ain't no common diagnosis guide or common treatment."
"And?" John asked, giving him a concerned look. "What's so hard-hitting that you don't think there's any way you're leaving this hospital alive? We might still be able to do something for you - with the sum totality of Star League medical knowledge."
"Steelman's Fever." Johann declared with a huff. "A rare, autoimmune neurological condition acquired by some long-term miners and refinery workers on the planet Brixtana due to the particular pollutants they're exposed to. Canopian medical system's been dealing with it for centuries now, and nobody's ever come out with a cure for it. Probably because it affects, eh… something like five, six thousand poor fucks at any one time. Not really worth doing heavy medical research on. It's funny, actually - I thought I hadn't worked there nearly long enough to pick up something like this. Maybe that's why it took over fifty years to spring up, rather'n, like… ten. Ten's more normal."
"And you're sure that's what it is?" John asked, a frown on his face. "And not some other neurodegenerative disease?"
Eyes were rolled. "It could be a lot of things, but we've decided it's Steelman's Fever because everything in your doctor's fancy books comes up blank. At some point when nothing's coming up guilty you've gotta pick your own culprit, see?"
John glanced to the chair at the bedside, clearly concluding that there was no way he'd fit on it as he stepped closer and simply stood there. "You know, it's really unproductive for the doctors if you just decide you know what you've got ahead of time, right?"
The old man wiggled his shoulders impotently. "We've known something was happening with me for at least a decade at this point, Johnny boy. We just didn't know what it was. Now that I've got maybe half a month to live before something important fails, the hell am I waiting on? Even if you plug this leak now, I'm still just laying here waiting for the next one to spring up."
John gave him a long, quiet look, his expression softening as he gestured meaninglessly around.
"Take your time. You've got that going for you at least, six million minae man." Johann declared with a weak laugh.
"Ass." John retorted, breaking his silence suddenly. "Why, thought, if not to try and get better medical care, did you want me here now? Surely, you'd rather be with your family in your final weeks."
Johann stared at him for a second. "You know, by most conventional definitions, you're part of my family nowadays, Jack. We're co-parents to the most powerful couple in the Union, and the most precious grandchildren in charted space. Even if not, though, y'ever considered that we're actually pretty good friends, you and I? You got a rightful place in this room just like anyone else, bub."
"Right. Sorry, I…" John mumbled.
"You still keep that garden you took me to way back then?" Johann asked, giving the man a curious look.
"...Well, I'm picking it back up now, after letting it fall by the wayside a bit during my working years." John admitted. "Why ask all of a sudden, though?"
The old man looked over to the window. "If I weren't afraid it'd contaminate the place with heavy metals and a million more toxins besides, I might ask to be buried there, you know? It's a pretty important place in my history here, even if it's not really written down. If you and Amy hadn't brought me there to treat me as the dumbest, most amoral puppy, I wouldn't be married, and I certainly wouldn't be remembered by some ridiculous title like 'the Champion of Peace'. Living here… it's been good for me. Settling down was nice."
"...You know, we could still arrange for your burial there. It doesn't have to be a problem if the greenhouse gets contaminated - I could just use a new one from then on." John replied, reaching up a bit as though there were some magical solution hanging just above his head.
"What's the point in it if I'm just going to be buried in a derelict garden, Jack? If it's not your garden anymore, the whole reason I want to be there goes out the window." Johann snorted. "Better I just get tossed wherever's furthest from a population center anyways. Or heck, bury me like I'm high level nuclear waste below Castle O'Reilly. Drill a massive lined shaft and hock my urn down it."
John allowed himself a weak laugh. "Yeah, we're not doing that. Nobody's going to do that. You do realize you're getting a massive state funeral, right?"
"The thought has mortified me before, yes."
John's mouth opened to say something, but he paused. "You know, we've gotten off track here. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about once you got me here?"
Johann huffed. "How do you know it wasn't the garden thing?"
After a brief pause, he let out a whining sound. "Alright, I'll admit it, there's something else. You see, right around a decade ago, your boy Alan told me you were actually both kids when you and Amy met. That was one of the many things that got me wondering just what about the fucked up story I'd heard about your lives over the years was or wasn't true. Truth is, back then he also gave me a letter he said would explain everything if you didn't, but I've been too much of a coward to ask you - let alone read it. Now, though… there's really nothing left to do but ask. Spare a cup of your life's story for a poor old man?"
John sighed, massaging his forehead. "...You should have asked sooner. Fuck… this one's a bit complicated."
"We got time. Visiting hours run from whenever the fuck we say to whenever we feel like we're done here."
"Alright, so," John began. "I'm from the Olympic Peninsula region on Terra. Really pretty place in the countryside, but absolutely full of ruins from the Amaris Civil War. There's more wrecked cities in the area than intact ones, owing to the lack of any effort to actually reconstruct it after Unity City got blown to shit. My father's family were comparatively young money - managed to consolidate control over the majority of the farmland in the area after abusing the resettlement land grant procedure put in place after the war to bring people back in. Despite, or perhaps because, of all of that, my father insisted that I actually help out on the farm, to learn character. Try telling a seven year old that and having them understand it. So I ran away from the farm pretty frequently - it helped that I was a fucking beast physically, back then, and I could always grab a bike on my way out - and one day I ended up in the Port Angeles Ruins area - used to be a big city, at the time it was just a barely picked over ruin due to the risk of unexploded munitions and unsecured structures."
"Hence why nobody found what you found before you." Johann acknowledged, making eye contact.
"Fair to say, yeah. The place was actually amazingly safe, but it didn't seem like anyone had realized yet. So, I stumbled into the Golden Corral - a building that was completely intact on the outside, and a total mess on the inside - and stumbled into the bathroom, which seemed totally intact by comparison…" John mumbled, freezing up for a second. "...and I ended up pricking myself on a needle embedded in the wall of one of the stalls. About a second later I hightailed it out of the place, when the floor split open to reveal a staircase and a speaker system called me 'Lord Amaris'."
"You're fucking kidding me." Johann hissed his eyes narrowed.
"Believe it or not, actually totally serious." John replied, his expression contorted into the most awkward hybrid of a smile and a frown.
"...I should have bet money on that when Starlet and I first thought up the possibility!"
"What?" John asked, his eyes wide. "...No, nevermind. So, a bad shock wasn't enough to keep me away, in any case. After my birthday, I headed back in to actually explore the place, and learned that it was a bunker built to shelter House Cameron - and later Amaris - against the predicted collapse of the Star League and interstellar civilization by Jonathan Cameron, who considered it inevitable - actually, I might be mixing years up a bit there, but whatever - and that there was a Cameron still there, on ice. Amelia Cameron, daughter of Richard Cameron. She'd gotten stowed away, when nobody else had, because she'd been visiting a pediatric eye doctor in Port Angeles at the time of the coup, and so was perfectly positioned next to one of the entrances."
Johann spat out a stream of frenzied laughter. "Holy fuck, we thought that was too dumb a concept even for the movies!"
"'Cause it is." John agreed. "So I was a pretty dumb kid, with some pretty romantic ideas about the nature of reality, so I swore to repay my family's karmic debt by…restoring her to rule over all of the stars in the night sky, or something. It was really lame of me, looking back. Anyways, I thawed her out then, and she went back to living in the bunker, now without her only adoptive family from before she went on ice - Vera Clayton, of the Royal Black Watch - while I visited…whenever I could make my getaway. Actually had to teach her to cook for herself in the process."
Johann wheezed. "Kid, kid. It's okay to condense a little more. I've heard what I was curious about already."
John shrugged. "So anyways, eventually I learned my family was actually aware of the Amaris connection and our entire social circle was our incestuous cousins, so my dad had me imprisoned at home by some hitman with a fetish for electricity. Amy broke me out, and I went to live with her in the Castle Brian - the Invisible Palace, properly - for a few more years, making visits to a town south of the mountains regularly with her for outside social contact. Made lots of friends there, eventually left when we learned my dad was dying and I needed to claim the inheritance and get the fuck out before more hitmen showed up, put together our expedition, and eventually ended up here. You know the story after that."
Johann gave him a long, tired look. "You just… fuck, maybe I'll have you explain that to me in a little more detail later, actually. Christ, though. What?"
John shrugged his mechanical shoulders. "I'll tell you more detail if you want it. It's the least that I owe you after all of these years."
"Again, might take you up on that later." Johann agreed. "For now, though…take the letter under my pillow, and after I'm gone give it to Alexandria, and tell her to read it somewhere private, 'kay?"
"...I could just explain it to her myself, you know?" John commented.
"It's not that letter. She already read that one - I just asked her not to share it with me yet. It's one I had the nurse help me write for her, to make it a little easier after the funeral. Or, maybe it'll make it harder. It's the things I've always wanted to say, but I could never find the words for in person. I'll keep trying to say them from now on, but I'm not sure I'll ever manage it."
"...I'll give it to her, but you're damn right you'll keep trying."
- -
Alexandria's hands shook as she looked down at the letter, tears beading in her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"I wish we'd gotten together sooner.
"If there's an afterlife, I hope we meet there someday."
"But not anytime soon."
What the hell did that mean, old man? What the hell did that mean?
If he was going to leave her a letter, he could at least have made himself clear in it.
It wasn't like she could ask anymore.
--------
It was hard to write this one, both in terms of finding the will to write it and in terms of getting it into a state I was at all satisfied with, even knowing since literally the start of the story that 2959 was the year this was going to happen in.
Sorry for the 1day delay.
Scene 1
---Loving Prometheus Upon the Rock Tools & Dies, Kallipolis, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
November 2959
Johann sat calmly, head of his cane in hand, beside the young philosopher who looked so very excited to watch her precious baby mech do something as simple as walk steadily forward. Frankly, he thought the part where it'd fired that big honking laser it was carrying was more impressive - the thing wasn't that fast, but it did have some firepower - but maybe there was a culture gap there.
A native Alphardian, or even a Niopsian, could have seen quite a lot of big guns in their day, but for either group, the only mechs they'd ever seen in the real world were the battlemechs brought by the 'Claytons', O'Reillys, and subsequent batches of pirates. The idea of actually creating one themself, even if it was just a downtech militiamech, was probably a lot more punchy. Well, even he couldn't count that out of the running for 'damn impressive'. He hadn't heard of anybody ever doing something like it in his lifespan before. Thank god for Star League libraries!
In a few years, would they be getting some actual battlemech walking in this facility? He'd pay a lot of money for the chance to see that.
"So," he began, smiling softly. "You say you expect this variant of the Hecatoncheires will begin entering production next year?"
Philosopher Carol Herning nodded sharply. "Yessir! More precisely, next year is the slated date for the opening of the first line of serialized production for the core chassis of the Heca system, which will be received by more specialized lines for refit into particular trims. I really hope the militia will find what we've been making for them useful!"
The patrician militia would love these things, and so would the Special Armored Police of the Tribunal and the Promethean Guards. Well, she was trying to impress him, so naturally she wouldn't bring up the other, less general-purpose standing militias in the country.
"And when do you expect to open the second line?" he asked, smiling with his cheek in one hand. "I understand that it's a big line with a lot of chassis-per-year, but at the end of the day, the civilian trims are scheduled to take up something like ninety percent of the production, right?"
And that was more reasonable, in his view - militarizing an industrialmech gave you a bad warmachine, whereas keeping it working its original task gave you a useful economic asset. The only reason he'd really been interested in the construction of a militia trim for this thing was the longstanding plan to start reprioritizing the construction of a mixed-class standing army once proper battlemechs entered production, which meant that the individual armed forces of the three governing estates would no longer be the chief recipients of military production.
A standing army was something that had always been allowed for by the constitution they'd written, in the same article that allowed for those estate forces to be requisitioned for the formation of a temporary army. It just hadn't ever been done, because they didn't want to start by building a lopsided force. It was funny how they were just skipping right to that one, actually - he'd really expected Niops to go up in a war a few times before, but the first ever activation of the Armed Forces of the Marian Union was looking to be the one that'd stick.
"That's a bit more up-in-the-air." she confessed. "But our plan is to continuously increase the output of the first line with added sub-lines and work to bring more online throughout the next decade at least, until we have the theoretical capacity to, running at absolute max capacity, produce two thousand, one hundred, and sixty chassis per year. We won't actually be operating at that level - to conserve on capital good wear and tear, seven hundred and twenty is more likely, yielding roughly two battalions of these militia models per year - but it's important to note the maximum capacity for these things."
Johann snorted. "Just casually quoting an absurd number like that."
"Sir?"
There was a part of his brain that couldn't believe that number, even knowing that right now the Hekatoncheires was the biggest single iron in the fire for this country - it was using more resources, and scheduled to use them for longer, than even the goddamned battlemech program they had in the works. It was big enough to put a measurable burden on the growth rate of the capital goods industry, Alan had told him. Because when you were developing the most miserable, underdeveloped regions of the galaxy, nothing could do the job better, or across more terrains, than industrialmechs.
So they needed at least six hundred per year to start chipping away at the crushing deficit of heavy equipment in rural regions and building upon earlier mechanization work.
It probably helped that the things were pretty dead simple too, though.
There was one thing he wasn't quite sure about, though.
"Now, pardon me for asking." he sighed, glancing over to Herning. "But one thing I've been wondering is, why invite me now? My daughter, I could understand - she's all but taken over the job from me, just like you grabbed it off of that Viletta chick. Petra could probably have a more meaningful conversation with you about this, about where we're going with it, and about what we're hoping for in the militia."
Carol frowned, pulling her feet up from the floor of the observation deck and putting them on her chair, her arms wrapping around her legs. "I didn't want to do that."
Johann covered his eyes, rubbing his forehead. "And why not?"
"It had to be you, sir."
And just why would that be the case? Was this too dull to explain to anyone but a bag of past-prime bones?
Her voice cracked as, unprompted, she continued her thought. "It had to be you, b-because… because you're Consul Johann O'Reilly, the champion of peace! Because you're one of the founders of this nation, and… because I've always admired the work you've done for the people of Alphard. My grandmother told me, once, about the time you came to our village during a power outage. She said you were an unpleasant, impatient man, but she also said…when push came to shove, you didn't hesitate a second to push for a permanent solution to our problem - you had them install a wind farm up on the ridge, so that the power line between us and the city wouldn't need to be repaired so desperately again."
Did he do that, once? Johann covered his face completely and sighed. It must have been so long ago. "...I haven't done that kind of field work in over thirty five years."
But he understood, now. For him, it might have been tuesday. He didn't really know at all, couldn't claim to. But for this girl, the day Johann O'Reilly came to her little village was the most important day in her life. Or, well, potentially. Was she even born yet?
"Well, I probably never would have spoken my first words, if not for that." she mumbled. "I was about one the next time the intercity line snapped - about three years later - and I would have died of a fever before it got repaired, if the medicine in storage hadn't been kept fresh. That's what my mom told me. That's why I decided to try and join the Promethean Order - because you were my hero back then."
"A patrician's your hero, so you become a philosopher." Johann snarked quietly, unable to keep himself from smiling.
So that was who he really was nowadays?
"...and that's why I wanted to make sure you knew, the nation you worked so hard to build is going to be fine after you're gone." she concluded.
- -
Kallipolis Central Park, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
Same Day
"Grandpa!" Lily grumbled. "Grandpa, are you listening to me?"
Johann blinked, massaging his forehead briefly as he looked back to the eight year old. "I'm sorry, dear. I got caught up thinking about something that happened earlier today. What were you saying?"
The girl puffed up her cheeks and reached over, lightly tapping a balled up fist against his forearm. "I was asking what you want for your birthday, grandpa! But you weren't listening, so I guess you don't want anything?"
A smile cracked his face, a snort escaping from his aged snout. "Oh, Lily. You don't have to give ol' grandpa a birthday present to begin with. I'll be perfectly fine just having you there, y'know?"
He watched as her eyes went wide from shock. "...But you always give me a present, grandpa. Why don't you need one?"
Reaching out, he patted her head vigorously, making sure to send her short-cut hair every which way in the process. "I'm glad you think that way, but at my age there's not that much I'm looking for anymore. Getting to meet you was one of the best presents I ever got, though."
Her cheeks went red. "That's not right, though! You should still get something!"
It was hard for the old man to do anything but smile. The weather was warm, the wind was blowing, the birds were chirping, and he was here with the granddaughter he never thought he'd have in his lifetime. This was good. Well worth the forty years of honest work it took to get here.
Truthfully, so was the knowledge that the things he'd done had really mattered - had really helped people. Those goddamned 'Clayton' softies got the last laugh, it seemed - who was the softie now?
"Say," he began, looking up at the sky. "They still have art classes in elementary schools these days, Lil?"
He could feel from his hand alone how vigorously she was nodding. "Yahuh! Mrs. Blumen says I'm real good at drawing!"
"Does she?" Johann asked, filling his voice with all of the awe he could. "Well, then, you know what I'd actually love to get for my birthday? I'd love if you were to draw me something you think is nice. It'd mean a whole heck of a lot to me."
She wrinkled her nose at him. "That's it?"
"That's it."
She cocked her head to the side, looking at him curiously, but ultimately seemed to accept it as she went in for a hug. "Okay, grandpa!"
Of course, he returned the hug.
Lily mumbled into his side. "I'm glad you love me, grandpa. Not like papa."
Johann's heart froze for a second. "Your dad loves you very much, Lily."
"Nuh-uh." she responded. "He always says he doesn't have time, or something. He's not like you."
Johann held his granddaughter tighter. He knew he didn't have much longer, and like hell was he going to let his first precious little grandchild lose him while thinking he was the only one who loved her or some shit. "Yuh-huh. He's always bragging to me about you, you know? Has he ever missed your birthday? Christmas? Has he ever not been at home for a week at a time? Has he ever not been there for you when you had a real problem you needed help with? I know for a fact he's helped you with your homework a few times."
Lily made a strained sound as she thought it over. "...No. But he never has time to play like you do!"
"Oh, Lily." Johann chuckled, tears beginning to come to his eyes. "Adults usually don't have time to play. They're busy with their jobs a lot of the time - and your dad has one of the biggest jobs of them all. Your grandpa's different, - auntie Petra does my job now, so I've got all the time in the world to spend with you, but Alan can't spend nearly as much time as he'd like to with you, because he's working to make things better for you an' for everyone. It's a big, big job, making things better for everyone - and one day, it might be your job. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you."
He wasn't made for these sorts of sappy conversations, so he wasn't sure how well it was working, but he had to try to help her understand. And then, when he got home, he was going to yell at Alan over the phone to spend more time with her, even if it meant letting some non-critical shit go to Amy.
---
Scene 2
---Castle O'Reilly, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
December 2959
Johann flipped the pages of the book in his hands slowly, skimming the pages as they passed him by. In truth, he had no real interest in the swamp cats from equatorial Alphard it described, even if the pictures were cute, but it was what he'd grabbed earlier, so it was what he was stuck with.
Johann had never been scared of the end before. Angry at it, sure, but never scared. All those decades ago, his life had been just something he was using for the time being - an instrument that served his one lingering goal.
When had that changed? When had he come to love his life again, so much so that he was desperate for a little more of it?
Was it when he got married? When his first child was born? When she learned to walk? When she learned to read? When she became an adult? When she got married? When she had her own child? When did he cross the invisible line where the quiet self-hate inside of him boiled off and was replaced, of all things, will contentment?
Johann Sebastian O'Reilly had been a thug. A poor mechwarrior, a poor judge of character, and a poor human being. He'd been a drunk, a druggie, a washup, and once nearly a pirate. He was a murderer a dozen times over, and he'd only had a good reason for it three times. He was the man who would have been Caesar, if he hadn't been foiled by some meddling kids.
When did Johann Sebastian O'Reilly become a good man? A good husband? A good father? A good protector to the citizens of a nation?
When did he stop having regrets, and why were they coming back now?
He closed the book with a sigh. The way things were going, he didn't think he'd ever see one of those swamp cats with his own eyes, so what was the point of reading about them, really?
The door opened. Alexandria's voice spilled through it. "You okay in here, Johann? They're serving dinner now, so unless you want it cold, you'd best get up now."
It was a persuasive argument. The staff in this castle were top notch when it came to cooking, but only when the food was eaten at the intended temperature. However… "I can't."
Immediately, there was a note of concern in her voice. "You can't? Can't what?"
"Stand up." he clarified, gesturing to his legs as she came into vision. "I ain't been able to feel these for a few minutes now. Actually, my fingers are starting to go too, now."
"Shit!" she hissed, her eyes slamming shut. "Why didn't you call for help, then? That's really, really bad! This is the sort of thing where we need to get you to the doctor right away!"
The consul sighed, covering his face stiffly with one hand. "So she can do what, exactly? It's been awhile we've known something like this was coming, and I don't rightly expect any last minute miracles here. Eighty nine is already a pretty wild result, for someone the likes of me."
"Even so," she insisted, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Maybe she can get you a little bit longer. Make sure you're more comfortable as it happens. Anything! You shouldn't just stay here and accept it like that."
"Yeah, it ain't good to accept it." he agreed. "There's a lot I left undone, when I think about it. If I'd known it was going to be today, I would've asked you for a last dance, for example. While it was still possible and all."
"Damnit, old man!" his wife grumbled. "If you're going to do hypotheticals like that, at least think about what'd happen if you had the chance not to fuck your body up to begin with."
Johann snorted. "If that'd come and gone, we never even would'a met, because I would have shacked up with your ma' seventy years ago. Well, maybe that's still something I regret, but I don't want to throw out what we had for it. I mean, lookin' at it straight, thirty four years was a pretty long time to be together - it's half your life to date, and not that much less of mine. We even had some grandchildren within my life."
"It wasn't long enough."
"It definitely wasn't."
"I'm calling help to get you to the hospital."
Johann reached up to caress her cheek. It was a shame he couldn't really feel it as he made contact. "I'm not telling you not to. But… be ready for it not to work, okay? For me to be gone. Don't let that be a surprise, because it's probably what we've got coming."
"Dumbass."
"Brat."
How long had it been since they'd teased each-other with those kinds of names?
- -
"Alright, they're coming to help us get you down the mountain." Alexandria declared, stepping back into the room. "We're doing everything we can for you, you know?"
Johann smiled. "I do, and I'm unbelievably grateful. For everything, really. Who knows - maybe this really will save me for awhile. But, even if it doesn't… I want you to remember that you already saved me a long, long time ago, and the result was this life we had together. This crazy, eventful life."
Alex's face scrunched up awkwardly as she nodded. "Coming to Alphard was definitely the best mistake we ever made."
The old man smiled. "That too, but you did it way before then, honey. How many years do you think we drifted before coming here, exactly?"
"Don't remind me."
"I'm reminding you~!"
She pinched his ear, and he smiled even as he winced in pain. "Good to know I'm still working that close to home. Means we've still got time to talk. Really, that's probably all we've got time for now."
She rolled her eyes. "Jackass. If time's so short, why are you spending it on cheesy jokes?"
"I just want to appreciate the…" he began, a faint chuckle escaping him. "Unbelievably long, roundabout, twisty-turny, insane road we've walked to get here. It's been wild, you know? We ended up as some sort of royalty by the end - that's insane, given where we were through most of it."
"It's true. They're not going to let your funeral be a private, respectable matter for a second after the big ass life you lead." Alexandria huffed, leaning into give him a hug. "Thanks for reminding me how much of a pain in the ass it'll be, dear."
Returning the hug, he sighed. "Even so, I'd appreciate it if if you tried to make it the best it could be - really capture my good side with it. I'll only ever get the one, after all, and in another thirty four years, I'd at least like for it to be something you can think about without too much trouble."
"I don't want to say goodbye."
"Neither do I."
The two sat in silence for a bit, feeling each-other's warmth for what could be the last time ever.
"...This is selfish of me, Alex," Johann began, his eyes closed. "But there's a letter in our safe - the one in our bedroom. I think you know what the envelope looks like, right? I'd like to have that letter with me when I'm in the hospital."
"Are you finally going to read it?"
Johann snorted. "Maybe. I can't say for sure if I won't be a coward to the end."
She pulled back, giving him a tired look. "...Alright, I'll bring the damned letter."
"Thanks, Starlet."
Those were the only words that came to his mind.
---
Scene 3
---Chaldea General Hospital, Alphard
Marian Union, Antispinward Periphery
December 2959
John rushed into the room like a stampeding bull. "Johann, what the hell's going on here?"
The O'Reilly patriarch gave him a tired look from where he lay immobile in the bed. "You're late, kiddo. What kept you the last few weeks, exactly?"
The giant's face flushed at the question. "Hearing that you were on your deathbed set off my own condition - I had a heart attack, so they pushed ahead on replacing the problem parts in me. The hell's going on, though, O'Reilly?"
"Maybe it's better that you came late, though," Johann mused, looking very much like he would have liked to rub his chin, if he could. "Because we didn't narrow down what's probably happening until last week at the earliest. It ain't exactly a common problem I got going on, so there ain't no common diagnosis guide or common treatment."
"And?" John asked, giving him a concerned look. "What's so hard-hitting that you don't think there's any way you're leaving this hospital alive? We might still be able to do something for you - with the sum totality of Star League medical knowledge."
"Steelman's Fever." Johann declared with a huff. "A rare, autoimmune neurological condition acquired by some long-term miners and refinery workers on the planet Brixtana due to the particular pollutants they're exposed to. Canopian medical system's been dealing with it for centuries now, and nobody's ever come out with a cure for it. Probably because it affects, eh… something like five, six thousand poor fucks at any one time. Not really worth doing heavy medical research on. It's funny, actually - I thought I hadn't worked there nearly long enough to pick up something like this. Maybe that's why it took over fifty years to spring up, rather'n, like… ten. Ten's more normal."
"And you're sure that's what it is?" John asked, a frown on his face. "And not some other neurodegenerative disease?"
Eyes were rolled. "It could be a lot of things, but we've decided it's Steelman's Fever because everything in your doctor's fancy books comes up blank. At some point when nothing's coming up guilty you've gotta pick your own culprit, see?"
John glanced to the chair at the bedside, clearly concluding that there was no way he'd fit on it as he stepped closer and simply stood there. "You know, it's really unproductive for the doctors if you just decide you know what you've got ahead of time, right?"
The old man wiggled his shoulders impotently. "We've known something was happening with me for at least a decade at this point, Johnny boy. We just didn't know what it was. Now that I've got maybe half a month to live before something important fails, the hell am I waiting on? Even if you plug this leak now, I'm still just laying here waiting for the next one to spring up."
John gave him a long, quiet look, his expression softening as he gestured meaninglessly around.
"Take your time. You've got that going for you at least, six million minae man." Johann declared with a weak laugh.
"Ass." John retorted, breaking his silence suddenly. "Why, thought, if not to try and get better medical care, did you want me here now? Surely, you'd rather be with your family in your final weeks."
Johann stared at him for a second. "You know, by most conventional definitions, you're part of my family nowadays, Jack. We're co-parents to the most powerful couple in the Union, and the most precious grandchildren in charted space. Even if not, though, y'ever considered that we're actually pretty good friends, you and I? You got a rightful place in this room just like anyone else, bub."
"Right. Sorry, I…" John mumbled.
"You still keep that garden you took me to way back then?" Johann asked, giving the man a curious look.
"...Well, I'm picking it back up now, after letting it fall by the wayside a bit during my working years." John admitted. "Why ask all of a sudden, though?"
The old man looked over to the window. "If I weren't afraid it'd contaminate the place with heavy metals and a million more toxins besides, I might ask to be buried there, you know? It's a pretty important place in my history here, even if it's not really written down. If you and Amy hadn't brought me there to treat me as the dumbest, most amoral puppy, I wouldn't be married, and I certainly wouldn't be remembered by some ridiculous title like 'the Champion of Peace'. Living here… it's been good for me. Settling down was nice."
"...You know, we could still arrange for your burial there. It doesn't have to be a problem if the greenhouse gets contaminated - I could just use a new one from then on." John replied, reaching up a bit as though there were some magical solution hanging just above his head.
"What's the point in it if I'm just going to be buried in a derelict garden, Jack? If it's not your garden anymore, the whole reason I want to be there goes out the window." Johann snorted. "Better I just get tossed wherever's furthest from a population center anyways. Or heck, bury me like I'm high level nuclear waste below Castle O'Reilly. Drill a massive lined shaft and hock my urn down it."
John allowed himself a weak laugh. "Yeah, we're not doing that. Nobody's going to do that. You do realize you're getting a massive state funeral, right?"
"The thought has mortified me before, yes."
John's mouth opened to say something, but he paused. "You know, we've gotten off track here. Was there something in particular you wanted to talk about once you got me here?"
Johann huffed. "How do you know it wasn't the garden thing?"
After a brief pause, he let out a whining sound. "Alright, I'll admit it, there's something else. You see, right around a decade ago, your boy Alan told me you were actually both kids when you and Amy met. That was one of the many things that got me wondering just what about the fucked up story I'd heard about your lives over the years was or wasn't true. Truth is, back then he also gave me a letter he said would explain everything if you didn't, but I've been too much of a coward to ask you - let alone read it. Now, though… there's really nothing left to do but ask. Spare a cup of your life's story for a poor old man?"
John sighed, massaging his forehead. "...You should have asked sooner. Fuck… this one's a bit complicated."
"We got time. Visiting hours run from whenever the fuck we say to whenever we feel like we're done here."
"Alright, so," John began. "I'm from the Olympic Peninsula region on Terra. Really pretty place in the countryside, but absolutely full of ruins from the Amaris Civil War. There's more wrecked cities in the area than intact ones, owing to the lack of any effort to actually reconstruct it after Unity City got blown to shit. My father's family were comparatively young money - managed to consolidate control over the majority of the farmland in the area after abusing the resettlement land grant procedure put in place after the war to bring people back in. Despite, or perhaps because, of all of that, my father insisted that I actually help out on the farm, to learn character. Try telling a seven year old that and having them understand it. So I ran away from the farm pretty frequently - it helped that I was a fucking beast physically, back then, and I could always grab a bike on my way out - and one day I ended up in the Port Angeles Ruins area - used to be a big city, at the time it was just a barely picked over ruin due to the risk of unexploded munitions and unsecured structures."
"Hence why nobody found what you found before you." Johann acknowledged, making eye contact.
"Fair to say, yeah. The place was actually amazingly safe, but it didn't seem like anyone had realized yet. So, I stumbled into the Golden Corral - a building that was completely intact on the outside, and a total mess on the inside - and stumbled into the bathroom, which seemed totally intact by comparison…" John mumbled, freezing up for a second. "...and I ended up pricking myself on a needle embedded in the wall of one of the stalls. About a second later I hightailed it out of the place, when the floor split open to reveal a staircase and a speaker system called me 'Lord Amaris'."
"You're fucking kidding me." Johann hissed his eyes narrowed.
"Believe it or not, actually totally serious." John replied, his expression contorted into the most awkward hybrid of a smile and a frown.
"...I should have bet money on that when Starlet and I first thought up the possibility!"
"What?" John asked, his eyes wide. "...No, nevermind. So, a bad shock wasn't enough to keep me away, in any case. After my birthday, I headed back in to actually explore the place, and learned that it was a bunker built to shelter House Cameron - and later Amaris - against the predicted collapse of the Star League and interstellar civilization by Jonathan Cameron, who considered it inevitable - actually, I might be mixing years up a bit there, but whatever - and that there was a Cameron still there, on ice. Amelia Cameron, daughter of Richard Cameron. She'd gotten stowed away, when nobody else had, because she'd been visiting a pediatric eye doctor in Port Angeles at the time of the coup, and so was perfectly positioned next to one of the entrances."
Johann spat out a stream of frenzied laughter. "Holy fuck, we thought that was too dumb a concept even for the movies!"
"'Cause it is." John agreed. "So I was a pretty dumb kid, with some pretty romantic ideas about the nature of reality, so I swore to repay my family's karmic debt by…restoring her to rule over all of the stars in the night sky, or something. It was really lame of me, looking back. Anyways, I thawed her out then, and she went back to living in the bunker, now without her only adoptive family from before she went on ice - Vera Clayton, of the Royal Black Watch - while I visited…whenever I could make my getaway. Actually had to teach her to cook for herself in the process."
Johann wheezed. "Kid, kid. It's okay to condense a little more. I've heard what I was curious about already."
John shrugged. "So anyways, eventually I learned my family was actually aware of the Amaris connection and our entire social circle was our incestuous cousins, so my dad had me imprisoned at home by some hitman with a fetish for electricity. Amy broke me out, and I went to live with her in the Castle Brian - the Invisible Palace, properly - for a few more years, making visits to a town south of the mountains regularly with her for outside social contact. Made lots of friends there, eventually left when we learned my dad was dying and I needed to claim the inheritance and get the fuck out before more hitmen showed up, put together our expedition, and eventually ended up here. You know the story after that."
Johann gave him a long, tired look. "You just… fuck, maybe I'll have you explain that to me in a little more detail later, actually. Christ, though. What?"
John shrugged his mechanical shoulders. "I'll tell you more detail if you want it. It's the least that I owe you after all of these years."
"Again, might take you up on that later." Johann agreed. "For now, though…take the letter under my pillow, and after I'm gone give it to Alexandria, and tell her to read it somewhere private, 'kay?"
"...I could just explain it to her myself, you know?" John commented.
"It's not that letter. She already read that one - I just asked her not to share it with me yet. It's one I had the nurse help me write for her, to make it a little easier after the funeral. Or, maybe it'll make it harder. It's the things I've always wanted to say, but I could never find the words for in person. I'll keep trying to say them from now on, but I'm not sure I'll ever manage it."
"...I'll give it to her, but you're damn right you'll keep trying."
- -
Alexandria's hands shook as she looked down at the letter, tears beading in her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
"I wish we'd gotten together sooner.
"If there's an afterlife, I hope we meet there someday."
"But not anytime soon."
What the hell did that mean, old man? What the hell did that mean?
If he was going to leave her a letter, he could at least have made himself clear in it.
It wasn't like she could ask anymore.
--------
It was hard to write this one, both in terms of finding the will to write it and in terms of getting it into a state I was at all satisfied with, even knowing since literally the start of the story that 2959 was the year this was going to happen in.
Sorry for the 1day delay.
