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frontier_doktorA handheld device full of files on top of a folder of print-outs. It didn't seem like so much when he was holding it in his hand, but it felt like the hope of a dozen lives as well as a mountain of evidence against him.
He closed the door to the rudimentary "morgue" in the clinic, the place where the bodies were stored. Eventually they would have to be buried. They needed to be. Visscher pulled up a rolling chair to sit in front of the space where Beth's remains were stored. He addressed it as if it were her, the person that he needed to see and report his progress to, the person that needed answers.
"I think with this I would be able to correct the errors in the cloning process. The young women like you, they seemed spirited." He said, holding the folder in his hands and looking at the storage as if it had a face. He could imagine one, anyway, and had seen copies of it during that day away. "There are people out there that have perfected the technology. There was one helpful woman there that informed me of your status as 'property'. I would... like to help with that. I'm not sure how. I worry she's going to become ill from the same sickness but I'll do what I can to help."
He hesitated, still watching that door, waiting for internal responses that would never come.
"I'm sorry." He finally said. "It doesn't mean anything now. This is selfish of me. Letting her use my head was selfish. I never figured it out with Abigail, probably because her death wasn't my fault. Nor with my parents when they died with the power grid. Nor with Ricardo because I can't shake this hateful idea that he deserved what happened to him. But you? You taught me a valuable lesson." That door might as well have had eyes with the way his gaze turned, and his eyes grew glassy. He barely ever managed to cry, and he couldn't quite now. The pressure, the sick turn of his stomach, those were still there. "I can do everything in the world to fix people or fix situations and it never brings anyone back, does it? Good things. Stupid things. Everyone is always gone in the end but this time it's my fault and I can't fix it."
With a huff he looked back to the touch screen in front of him, and flipped through some pages. "You died there, too. I don't-" he shook his head. "-I can apologize until I'm blue in the face. But it won't make either one of us feel better, will it?"
He put the device inside of the file. He would print those out tomorrow.
"People do still care what happened to you. You should know that. I suspect when they know she's on me they'll rip her right from my back... the thought terrifies me, honestly." He feared death, and he'd never known the host to an Oceana Queen to survive. "But if they do, maybe I can apologize there."
He didn't really believe that. He thought there was black at the end of the tunnel. That everything ended with a stretch of a long dream, and then there would be nothing. He didn't really expect there to be anything there.
Which meant, in the end, he was talking to himself.
Regretfully he decided to leave Beth to her rest. There wasn't much more he could do, or that his passenger would let him do.
He closed the door to the rudimentary "morgue" in the clinic, the place where the bodies were stored. Eventually they would have to be buried. They needed to be. Visscher pulled up a rolling chair to sit in front of the space where Beth's remains were stored. He addressed it as if it were her, the person that he needed to see and report his progress to, the person that needed answers.
"I think with this I would be able to correct the errors in the cloning process. The young women like you, they seemed spirited." He said, holding the folder in his hands and looking at the storage as if it had a face. He could imagine one, anyway, and had seen copies of it during that day away. "There are people out there that have perfected the technology. There was one helpful woman there that informed me of your status as 'property'. I would... like to help with that. I'm not sure how. I worry she's going to become ill from the same sickness but I'll do what I can to help."
He hesitated, still watching that door, waiting for internal responses that would never come.
"I'm sorry." He finally said. "It doesn't mean anything now. This is selfish of me. Letting her use my head was selfish. I never figured it out with Abigail, probably because her death wasn't my fault. Nor with my parents when they died with the power grid. Nor with Ricardo because I can't shake this hateful idea that he deserved what happened to him. But you? You taught me a valuable lesson." That door might as well have had eyes with the way his gaze turned, and his eyes grew glassy. He barely ever managed to cry, and he couldn't quite now. The pressure, the sick turn of his stomach, those were still there. "I can do everything in the world to fix people or fix situations and it never brings anyone back, does it? Good things. Stupid things. Everyone is always gone in the end but this time it's my fault and I can't fix it."
With a huff he looked back to the touch screen in front of him, and flipped through some pages. "You died there, too. I don't-" he shook his head. "-I can apologize until I'm blue in the face. But it won't make either one of us feel better, will it?"
He put the device inside of the file. He would print those out tomorrow.
"People do still care what happened to you. You should know that. I suspect when they know she's on me they'll rip her right from my back... the thought terrifies me, honestly." He feared death, and he'd never known the host to an Oceana Queen to survive. "But if they do, maybe I can apologize there."
He didn't really believe that. He thought there was black at the end of the tunnel. That everything ended with a stretch of a long dream, and then there would be nothing. He didn't really expect there to be anything there.
Which meant, in the end, he was talking to himself.
Regretfully he decided to leave Beth to her rest. There wasn't much more he could do, or that his passenger would let him do.