Strangely enough, pain was not the first sensation that I felt as I fell to the sand. Instead, I found myself overwhelmed with disbelief; though I shortly realized that it was not my own. The sand, surprisingly pleasant in temperature and consistency, cradled my body as it came to rest. I could feel the pain in my shoulder, but it did not seem to bother me as it should.
Though I had never received formal medical training, I had enough knowledge of the human body and its workings to know that few survived a severe hit to the subclavian artery. Given the present circumstances, I knew that I would never be counted among those few.
I could hear his footsteps as he ran towards me, and I was overjoyed to find that I could sense him once more. Though I had never been religious, I thanked any power that may be listening that I would not have to face what was to come alone. For I knew that I would not leave this place. When he reached me, he carefully cradled me in his arms, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood. How ironic, I thought, that hands so attuned to destruction would seek now to preserve life.
I could both sense and hear my students coming to my side in an attempt to help, though I knew that this would be in vain. I projected a feeling of warmth and reassurance to them, though I could not think of what I could tell them to ease their pain. Through the growing fog in my mind, I remembered part of a poem that I had learned during my childhood schooling.
Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,
Lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet,
And remember men will scorn it, 'tis original and true,
And the obliquy of newness may fall bitterly on you.
Though the despair of my students still resonated within my mind, I again sent them a wave of reassurance and my desire that they allow me to confront the darkness with only him at my side. Understanding, they retreated, though they still watched from a distance near the skeleton of the submarine.
When a cough brought blood with it, he looked at me with an expression difficult to define. As he brought one of the hands that he had been using to press down on my shoulder up to carefully and tenderly remove blood from my chin, I realized what the expression was: love. Growing weary and unable to speak through the blood in my throat, I gently projected the feeling of my reciprocation. His eyes began to fill with tears, but I did not want to see my love suffer. He, the one person in the world for whom I felt love so deep I could only express it and define it in the language of the philosophers. (1)
Hoping that the language of his childhood and his family would reassure him, I gently thought, Ich liebe dich über alles. Es tut mir leid, aber ich bin so müde. Ich will dich nicht verlasssen. (2)
He began to cry in earnest now and I could feel the metal near us vibrating in unison with the waves of his emotion. As I felt the amount of blood leaving my body begin to slow and my mind begin to darken, I projected to him for what I knew would be the last time.
My friend, mein Liebling, I will be at peace. It is peace that you have the chance to share and spread. For too long you have let your fear and anger drive you. Nothing would…
My mental strength gave out before I finished telling him of my hopes, but as I looked into his eyes, he seemed to understand. As my vision darkened and physical sensation faded, I felt his lips touch mine and I smiled as much as I was able. My last thought before I surrendered to the darkness beckoning me was a line from that childhood poem.
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light;
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night. (3)
Indeed, I was not fearful.
(1) Charles is referring to ἀγάπη or "agápē" which is one of four words for love in ancient Greek. The Greek that I used is the classical Greek and not the modern. It denotes unconditional love, among other things, and is most commonly referenced in Christian history and theology.
(2) The German translates to "I love you more than anything. I am so sorry, but I am so tired. I don't want to leave you". That said, I am not a native German speaker, nor do I have a German-speaking beta and I would certainly appreciate it if any mistakes were pointed out to me.
(3) The poem that Charles is recalling is "The Old Astronomer to his Pupil" by Sarah Williams.