The Heart of the Bounty
A fanfiction
Chapter 13: Answers
Considering what I've gone through in the past, I often attribute any confusion to surrealism. I convince myself otherwise after things are cleared up, but that element will always be there. And here I lie, once again, stuck in a web of surreal events. I reflect on everything that's happened since my last accident, and just wonder. What perplexes me most is my eye … it's like it has a life of its own, whether it was programmed or not. Those doctors were off their rockers for making it function the way it has. What happened? Why is it changing?
Why am I changing? I don't regret what happened with Faye earlier, not at all. It uplifts me and scares me to think on that this way. I'm hanging onto my past by a thread now, and I'm still so unsure about letting go. Am I abandoning myself? Am I becoming myself? Faye has pervaded my thoughts, my life. Julia is just lingering in the echoes of distant memories. Who can I live without? Who can I let go of easily?
As much as I can't stand women, I would never want to bargain them the way I am with Faye and Julia. Do I want Faye more because she's here, in the present, more prominent in my recent memory? Or is there something more? Have I wasted time on Julia?
Talk about a regression. Of course sex changes everything in a relationship between two people, but I never imagined I'd be in this psychological turmoil. It's enough that I still have physical bruises to heal. Goddammit.
I wonder if Ed can help me about my eye. Once I understand that better, maybe I'll have more answers about everything else. The only thing I'm sure of at the moment is my desire for Faye. It still hasn't died. I didn't think it would, considering how we made love. I can't even label it as just sex, and I don't think she can either. I almost wanted our physicality to wipe out feelings for her, so that I can live in peace with my lonely self. The moment she touched me, I threw away that idea. It really gets me.
Clink! I turn in all directions quickly, ready and alert for anything and anyone. I completely forget that having an invader on board would be a difficult thing to do, considering where we were, but I couldn't help myself. In the life I once lead, you always had to be on the lookout. I hear soft footsteps and panting, and I smell the distinctive scent of dander. Ein. He's probably looking for something to eat.
Just as I relax the tension in my shoulders, I get a wet, furry nudge at my foot. Ein is poking is nose at me. What the hell? I look down and pat him on the back. "What do you want now, Ein?" His expression when he looks up at me seems to ring out more than acknowledgement; it's like he knows something. He's exhibited surprisingly intelligent insight in his own ways; we all should expect something like that if he was a data dog on the run. I'm not fond of critters, but I wanted to give him a chance. As I've said before, I'm a desperate man.
I pick him up, gripping his sides, and hold him up to my face. His tongue hangs out as he smiles. "Hey, Ein, can you help me figure something out?" Just his panting stare. I move him so he looks directly into my surgical eye. "You see that? Why is it changing color?" The instant after I ask, I realize, "Goddamn. You're talking to a dog. You're asking him something he can't easily give the answer to." He sniffs my eye, blinks a few times, then softly barks. I jolt back in surprise, and accidentally let go of him. He lands safely, perfectly, and softly on his feet and scurries away. I knew it. It was pointless.
But within seconds, he returns with something in his mouth; some toy Ed found somewhere, possibly on some crazy adventure with Ein. This toy, this device was like a lava lamp, only without the light bulb and in tubular shape. There was a floating bubble of plasma in a bold aqua hue. I see his mouth crunch on it a little. "No! Ein! Stop that— that's probably toxic!" I yell. I wriggle my nose and raise an eyebrow in shock when I realize Ein only cracked the outer shell slightly with his teeth. I look with deep bewilderment as I watched what happened next.
The bubble burst, and the color began to swirl all inside the tube. As the plasma swirled throughout the tube, the color changed, darker and darker with every passing second. After about ten seconds, the liquid stopped, moving only in linear directions with the wavering of Ein's head. Instead of aqua, the tube was filled with a softer, more natural blue. The blue of twilight.
Without questioning Ein and the fact that he's merely a dog, I instantly understood the demonstration. I brought my hand up to my eye, stroking underneath it. Why? How? How did it burst? I try to think back to the accident; after all, this change only occurred afterward. I instantly remember the sensation of the sharp winds and dust blowing against my face, onto my eye. I recall the pain of the stinging sands blasting against this eye, this particular eye. I remember feeling the struggle in my veins, my blood vessels, as I shut my eye in agony. That's it. The dust storm did it.
But now that it did, and now that I knew somewhat, I don't revert my train of thought. I feel liberated, finally understanding something that made things the way they were. Nostalgy for the past remained, but in a less intense form. The saying "Past is past" is more believable to me now, more tangible. I can't stop myself from thinking about things the way I do now. I figured I'd still cling helplessly to my past with Julia knowing what I know now about this change in my eye; instead, I'm growing more attached to Faye. My eye can't look back now; it only wants to look ahead.
