NOVEL NEXT 54: I’ll Buy The Tickets
Song lyrics.
From one who spoke no words.
Collected Unpublished Lyrics
-Sibsil Creed, Stories of Shurwinn, (2772)
RYST
Journal
DAY 1: Relapse. Pain. Muscles aching all over. Feels like I took a beating. Head hurts. So tired. Can't move. Can't sleep. Can't relax. Breathe. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Remember this isn't forever. Think over everything that you've done in the last few years that wasn't being sick in bed. Tindin Level 9. Making a bead bag. Uncooked recipe videos. Stream site. Friends in 9 Galaxies. Published Peydran's Case Study. Coordinated new cybernetics research with Dr. Abrams at Equi University Cybernetics. Hired staff. Trained staff. Started looking through 15 million men in Sturm to see if there's any one that jumps out. Only 14,752,998 left to go. I can do this. I will get better. It will only be a couple of days.
DAY 2:
Ryst: Reschedule all meetings for the next 2 days and send juice.
Peydran: Done
DAY 3: Still can't sleep. Too much pain. Everything hurts. Feels like my spine is being twisted out of my body. How long? How long. Keep thinking of all the good days. I can do it. It will get better. It always does. I can do it. Just a little longer.
DAY 4: Why? Why must we suffer? Why do I still suffer? Why do I never get better? There's nothing even wrong with me. This has no explanation. What can I do to fix it if there's nothing broken? It makes no sense. Nothing helps. Nothing is working.
DAY 5: I should be better by now. This is the worst one yet. Am I dying? Does it matter? Maybe that's the best thing. Maybe I've done all I needed to do. Maybe I can be free and go wherever is next. I feel like I am dying. I feel so wan. I'm worn thin. Too tired. Can't think anymore. Just want to be done. Maybe I have a brain tumor? Are there lesions in my spine? I can't rest. Everything just hurts. My last brain scans were 3 years ago when Peydran was in the hospital. Maybe it's time to recheck. Maybe something has changed? I'm not getting better this time.
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DAY 6: I can't do this. I can't do it anymore. I'm not strong enough. I'm not strong enough to convince myself to keep trying. I'm just too tired. I don't want to do it alone anymore. Even if I were strong enough, I don't want to keep fighting. There's nothing here that is worth this. Nothing in the Known Cosmos is worth this much suffering. I can't keep going. I can't keep forcing myself to go on. I'm just too tired. I can't—
Footsteps. A thumb on my cheek. A metal hand reaching for a tissue. Peydran. I can't bring myself to tell him that I don't want to keep going. That I have nothing left. So instead, I say, "I'll make an appointment at Media Hospital. Blood tests. Brain scans."
"We'll take my porter."
"Peydran? Are you tired? Tired of being alone— together?"
I hear his breath hitch. He whispers, "Yeah, Ryst. Yeah." Then stronger, "But I'm not done trying. You've always said this is a giant, tangled knot. And the threads aren't all unraveled yet. So, we're gonna keep pulling those threads. I believe in you. So when you get better, and you will get better, Ryst, you always do. When this is better, we'll pull those threads."
"We. Will. Find. Him. And the two of you will help me find mine. You can give up. You can let it go. But I'm not done fighting. I've still got fight left in me."
"Peydran. When I'm better, I want to see the ocean."
"I'll buy the tickets."
Dream Journal
Something pressed against my throat; thick and viscous and warm. It moved down, so warm, and down, so warm, and down. I was a fire! I was alight! There was a note. A sweet note. A chord. A symphony! Music! I was music! I was a song! I was twirling! I was dancing! I wanted to keep dancing! So full of song! Golden light! Filled with golden light! Glory! Glorious! I was glorious! I was a song! I was a dance! Over my shoulder, something was there.
A doorway? Was it black? Was it silver light? Just a slit? Was it a passageway? Was it female? Could I go through it? Did it look black? Or silver light? What was beyond it? Could I go through it? Could I see into it? Was everything black now? Was there blue ahead? Soft blue light? Was it royal blue light? Was there pink light? My feet touched something. All was stillness. Quiet. Complete silence. My feet were on something wet and cool. I walked. Wet sand. There was a note. A single note. Stillness. Then waves. I was being pulled out. Over water. Or just out. Out! Urgently forward. Forward!
Something pressed me from behind, pushing me through my spine. Pushing on the back of my neck. Pushing on my tailbone. I was being pushed out. I felt myself twist inside and pushed from the back of my neck— out! I was twisting clockwise out of myself, and curling down. Coming out of my throat, out of my chest, out of my belly button, and twisting down. Then through me, and out my back. Out the back of my neck. I twisted, pushed forward out the front of my body, then twisted down and back and through and out the back of my neck. I twisted up and up and out. Then up and through. Waving. Moving. Side to side. Waving. Moving. Side to side. Rhythm. Rhythm. Rhythm.
It was beautiful. Rhythm. Movement. Beauty. Pulsing. Grace. Pulsing. Rhythm. Dance. Movement. Swaying. Song. I was a song! I was a song! I was free! I was free! I was free! I was a song! I was music! Music!