The Last Thing
16 Sep 2018Jemine Caesar
I inhale...As I awake, my eyes open slowly and I stare up at the grey ceiling of a dimly lit room. The steady beeping of the lifesign monitor reminds me, as if I needed any reminding, that I am lying in a medicare bed.
They say that dying is hardest on the loved ones left behind. Like everyone else in the ‘verse, I’ve had my share of being left behind by people I’ve loved. Well, soon it will be my turn to do the leaving. I can’t say I’m relishing the prospect, but there’s not much I can do about it.
I exhale...
Someone is holding my hand. The touch is kindly, reassuring, and reminds me that I am not alone. But I can’t remember who it is, and I no longer have the strength to turn my head and look. So I close my eyes again instead.
I hear a voice beside me. All I know is that the voice belongs to someone I ought to recognise, but cannot. It’s a quiet, caring, tender voice, the voice of someone who loves me. The voice is suddenly joined by other voices, all speaking at once in subdued yet strangely joyful tones. They seem to be speaking to me, but I can’t make out the words.
I inhale...
And then, somehow, I remember that today is April the twenty-third, 3385. It is my birthday, and I am one hundred and twelve. I manage a faint smile as I recall the fact that I share the same date of birth as William Shakespeare, the ancient Earth poet. The thought invokes childhood memories of hearing my papa reciting to the people of the farming communities we passed through:
‘Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty place from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time.’
There will be no more tomorrows for me, I fear. Like old Will, I am dying on my birthday.
I exhale...
Memories of my impoverished childhood multiply and merge, each one clear and yet tantalisingly brief. It’s easier to think of things long gone than to try making sense of the present, and so I allow myself to be swept along by the torrent of recollections.
I feel comforted by the simple and unconditional love of my mama and papa, Eleanor and Jed. The daily hardships they endured, and the sacrifices they made. The recollection of their accidental deaths renews the sense of grief and loss within me, and I wonder if they will be waiting for me on the other side of the bridge.
I inhale...
My beautiful first daughter, Bekka. She was my everything, my all. A loving, bubbly, intelligent child with a true heart of gold. We should have shared a lifetime of happiness together, Bekka and I. But my world fell apart when she was taken from me by a rare and, at the time incurable, genetic disease.
Caz, Bekka’s father and the man responsible for her death at the age of just ten. I never intended to be a spacer for long. When I left home, having learned to fly the Sidewinder which Caz himself had provided for me to join him on Earth, I had just one thing in mind. Revenge, pure and simple. It was why I called my ship The Last Thing I Do.
I exhale...
I remember the locket given me by my grandmother, Rebecca Darrell, and the holo-message it contained from my mama. It was that message which taught me the truth of my upbringing; that my mama was actually my half-sister, and that my grandmother was my real mother. It also led to a happy reunion with my real father, Edward Harvard, after a search which led me across the bubble.
The last time I saw my mother, we had a huge argument and I walked away from her in a rage. My greatest regret is that I never got the chance to apologise.
I inhale...
Sam Hodkin, the greatest constant in my life. We met as I was travelling towards Sol, and Sam became my companion, then my friend, and then my lover and boyfriend. A man with a big heart and a generosity of spirit like no other I have ever known. I put him through so much, poor thing.
We had such wonderful adventures together, Sam and I. He stuck by me through thick and thin, with his infinite patience and understanding. Even to the point of accepting that my kind of love is an open thing, a joyous gift to be shared with more than one person. I know that I’ve always fallen in love too easily. But love brings a happiness which must be seized and held on to, and there can be nothing wrong in loving and being loved back.
I exhale...
Nathalie Hudson, with her gorgeous flame red hair and her mercurial nature, another of my life’s loves. A more loyal friend I could not have wished for.
Matt Lehman, the bounty hunter who, along with Sam and Nathalie, occupies a special place in my heart. Matt gave me hope at a time when I needed it most. He was a lovable rogue who represented danger and excitement, in complete contrast to the safety and stability provided to me by my ever-faithful Sam.
I inhale...
The faces of other people I met during my time as a spacer now circle one another in my mind’s eye, as if competing for my attention. I recall each and every one so clearly, it’s almost as if they are here in the room with me. Perhaps some of them are. I have no way of knowing.
And now I’m walking through The Olive Grove, my pleasure house on Citi Gateway. There, standing at her reception podium, is the petite figure of Suki Hai, her smile as bright as ever. The rest of the girls are in the bar to greet me; Monagh, Gynger, Jade, Zoya and the others. Cee Klover leans against the bar counter, pouring Toolfa gins for us all.
I exhale...
One of the darkest days of my life was when I pushed Matt Lehman out of it. It was May fifteenth, 3304, and we had just returned to Citi Gateway from Pegasi. Matt had helped me get back something stolen from me, something that I had to go to Pegasi to retrieve. Something stolen by a woman named Marrakech Morgan—
My memory flies to a day in the InGaBa on Inara’s Citi Gateway, when Marra Morgan turned up offering a lucrative bounty contract. I was eager to prove myself as a bounty hunter, and so I accepted her contract to find and kill a terrorist, Katarina von Steuben. I’m afraid it didn’t end well for me.
I inhale...
Marra’s punishment for my failure was to rob me of the ability to have children, courtesy of a device brutally implanted into my womb by a lackey called Stryker Aune. The implant’s removal was dependant on my completing the contract to kill von Steuben, which was a deed I had no realistic hope of managing. I hated Marra Morgan for destroying my chances of ever again achieving my heart’s desire, and I hated Stryker Aune for being the instrument of Marra’s retribution against me.
But hatred is a powerful, bitter and self-destructive thing. Let it in for too long, and you’ll end up hating yourself. There’s too much hatred in the ‘verse. I gave up hating Marra and Stryker a long, long time ago. And now, as I think back on that dark time, I can finally find it in my heart to forgive them, too.
I exhale...
Only hours before I said my final goodbye to Matt Lehman, we had made love in his ship, the Inevitable Betrayal. Hours later I fell back into Sam's arms and we made love in our apartment.
Nine months later, on 3 February 3305 to be precise, I gave birth to my second daughter. I named her Samantha Mattea, after her father.
I inhale...
And suddenly I’m sitting in my old landcruiser on my homeworld at LHS 3447. On my lap is the newborn Samantha Mattea, gurgling happily. And there beside me, her arm around my waist, is Apollonia Purduto, her smile radiant and fresh and content.
Outside the landcruiser I hear the voices of Sam and Nathalie as they return from space for one of their frequent visits, and our laughter fills the landcruiser as we share our life and our love.
I exhale...
Years pass in an instant, and my little Samantha Mattea is suddenly a beautiful woman with a daughter of her own, Eleanor Jemine.
More years flash by, the memories passing as a blur in my aging, dying mind. Eleanor Jemine is now a mother herself, with a gorgeous daughter, Bekka.
I inhale...
Young Bekka is the very image of my own Bekka, and adores listening to me telling her colourful stories of when I was a spacer. She tells me that she wants to be a spacer when she grows up, just like I used to be.
And then, in another blink of an eye, she is a woman of twenty. She proudly tells me that she has acquired a ship of her own, a Sidewinder, and asks me for advice.
I exhale...
I gave my great-granddaughter the same advice my mama gave me as I left home all those years before. A simple phrase which became a sort of mantra for me. I would say it to other commanders I met at starports, and while passing in deep space, and even in posts on social media.
“Take care out there.”
I inhale...
And then one day, as I was guiding my ship out through the mailslot, a traffic controller said it to me. I’d never heard any of them use the expression before, but very soon afterwards lots of them were saying it.
I always liked to think I was responsible for starting a trend.
I exhale...
My eyes open once more, and I am again gazing up at the same grey ceiling as before. I can feel the first moisture of tears stinging my eyes as I realise the inevitable is drawing nigh.
Someone is still holding my hand in a tender, heartfelt grasp. Another of papa’s favourite Shakespeare quotations floats through my mind, and my lips move in a feeble, vain attempt to recite the words:
“We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep.”
I inhale...
And I realise that I am afraid. So desperately, hopelessly afraid. Oh Gaia, help me! I do not want to die. I do not want to relinquish the life I have enjoyed with my friends and loved ones. The hand holding mine gives an extra squeeze, and a voice sounds in my ear, crystal clear and soothingly calm:
Everyone dies, Jemine. It is an inescapable fact of life. But you can take solace in the knowledge that you die the same way you lived; In the company of those you love, and who love you. Life can bestow no greater gift, and not all are so fortunate. So do not be afraid.
I exhale...
My greatest regret; I never got the chance to apologise to my mother—
I inhale...
I forgive you, my child.
I exhale...
And I feel at peace.
I inhale...
It is time to sleep, Jemine. Simply close your eyes, and sleep. Your loved ones will take care of you now.
For one last time, I close my eyes.
I exhale.
It is the last thing I do.
Author's Note
This is the final chapter in the life of Jemine Caesar, a roleplay character who came to occupy a very special place in my heart. I hope you have enjoyed reading about her experiences as much as I've enjoyed creating them.
Take care out there.
Jan
