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It’s a beautiful morning at Rhodes Island. Rosa is on a less-traveled section of the roof of the landship, hands clenched around the guardrails, face turned towards the rising sun. She closes her eyes, absorbing the first rays of sunlight. She tells herself this will ease the weariness of a sleepless night and pretends she hadn’t considered jumping off moments before.
She straightens her shoulders like she’s trying to get her prideful grandmother’s approval and marches back down the stairs. It’s time for breakfast.
The journey from the roof to the cafeteria takes long enough that the usual early risers are already there. Rosa greets anyone who meets her eyes. One positive of a practiced smile is it means people rarely will look any closer.
The coffee is hot and fresh. Rosa takes her coffee black, which shocked her coworkers in logistics when she first arrived at Rhodes Island. They were used to children loading coffee with sugar and cream. She told them that is not the way in Ursus. After some hesitation, Rosa selects a plain scone to go with her coffee.
It's unpalatable at first, when Rosa sits at a table to wrestle with her breakfast. She can drink the burning coffee easily but the scone she has trouble with. Even the slightest nibble makes her stomach turn. Eventually she dips it in her coffee, but her appetite is too small to want more.
One of her old coworkers stops at her table. “Good morning, Rosa,” he says. He's a friendly older man with a son around her age. “I got something special for you.” He winks and hands her a plate before going off to eat with his family.
The thing he gave her is some kind of pastry with a jam filling and sugar glaze drizzle. She remembers eating this before. It was not long after she and the girls were rescued. She hadn't had food that wasn't stale or rotten—or worse—in so long. The pastry felt like a magical gift, and her first bite brought tears to her eyes.
She can't believe he remembered that, and she wishes he hadn't. The sight of it turns her stomach. Carefully, when no one is looking, she wraps it in a napkin and slips it in her coat pocket. If she's lucky she'll stumble across the ever-hungry Ceobe, and Ceobe will never remember who she gets food from.
-
Training is brutal, like always, and ends with Rosa covered in sweat and breathing heavily while begging Dobermann to let her keep going. “Absolutely not,” Dobermann says in her crisp drill sergeant voice, like she always does. “You’re eager to prove yourself, and I can appreciate that. But if your body breaks down no amount of determination can bring you where you want to be. Rest.”
Then someone slaps a lunch from the cafeteria in her hands along with a water bottle, and Rosa is forced to sit down somewhere to eat. She picks at her food for a while. It smells lovely, but...
Her lunch is cold by the time Gummy finds her. “Na—I mean, Rosa!”
“Ah, good morning,” Rosa says, smiling at her friends. The file in one after another, training clothes dirtied and faces glowing with pride. Zima has a fresh bandage on her arm, Rosa notes. “It’s nice to have company. I take it your training went well?”
Zima, Gummy, Istina, and Leto all became operators before her, and all have much more combat experience. They’re in training sessions with other full-fledged operators while Rosa is still with the newbies. She’ll join them soon. She’ll show Dobermann she can handle it.
“It was fine,” Istina says. She carefully cuts her food into bite sized pieces.
“Fine?” Zima cuts in with her usual gruff demeanor. “I told you, stop being modest. When you have a breakthrough with your arts, brag about it!”
Gummy and Leto chorus agreement. The small hint of a smile on Istina’s face betrays how proud she is of herself. Rosa is happy for her, she really is, but her smile feels tighter after that. She’s sure if she were allowed to train with them, if she were lucky enough to be graced with their encouragement, she would improve much faster. And if Zima saw the effort she puts in—
No. No, she can’t think like that. Not only is Istina her friend, but she saved Rosa’s life—she cannot afford to be jealous of her.
“How has your morning gone, Rosa?” Istina asks pleasantly. Zima scoffs at the change of subject.
For one panicked moment, Rosa cannot remember. It’s like the arrival of her friends banished any trace of what she did in training from her mind. She grasps at the fuzzy edges of her memory, then decides she needs to say something—anything at all—before too much time passes and they become suspicious. “Oh, it was exhausting,” she covers quickly. “I may have to take a nap later today!”
“If you do, invite me!” Gummy says. “A nap sounds really good.”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Rosa says.
Conversation moves on, thankfully, and Rosa finds her input is not needed most of the time. Gummy is good at filling silence, Zima is easy to rile into complaining about something silly, and Istina has an instinct for when she can cut in with unexpected snark, causing the other girls to shriek and playfully smack her arms.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Gummy asks Rosa when they’re cleaning up, ready to go back to training.
Rosa looks at her plate, which is still as full as it was when she got it. She’s just... redecorated a little. “Not particularly. Would you want some, Gummy?”
Instead of answering yes like Rosa expects, Gummy frowns. “You need to eat, Rosa. You can’t be strong if you don’t eat.”
Rosa thinks of a time when Gummy’s ribs were painfully visible and none of them were strong enough to move. She remembers the feeling of being on death’s door. Her stomach twists into knots, but she forces her face to remain impassive. “You’re right. Perhaps I pushed myself too hard this morning, and that ruined my appetite.”
Her friends seem to accept this. Leto throws one arm over Gummy’s shoulders when they start to walk away, then has to practically chase Istina around to put an arm over her shoulders too. Zima is the one who leaves last. She frowns at Rosa, but says nothing.
-
The hallway spins with each step Rosa takes. She knows she’s dizzy due to not eating the past few days, but a perverse part of her is glad her body is suffering. She deserves it. There’s children who will never be able to have a meal with their families again due to her. Her hunger is penance for what she’s done.
Dobermann sent her away instead of letting her continue with afternoon practice. She barked out orders for Rosa to go visit the med bay because she looks ill; Rosa has elected to ignore these orders. She’s going... somewhere. If she’s lucky, she’s going somewhere she won’t return from.
A voice comes out of nowhere and nearly knocks Rosa over. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
Rosa blinks at her friend Zima. When did Zima sneak up on her?” “Pardon?”
“You look like shit. What happened?”
“Oh. Nothing.” A practiced smile, just like always. “I suppose I should take that nap I spoke of earlier. Zima, would you give Gummy my apologies for not consulting her first?”
“Cut the crap.” Zima looks furious, and she steps closer to Rosa. The hallway begins to feel claustrophobic. “You’ve been off all week. Just tell me why.”
Her mouth goes dry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You didn’t eat lunch. When did you last eat?” Zima demands, impatient, and Rosa doesn’t respond. “Answer me, Rosa! When?”
She’s trembling now, from the shame of Zima finding out. Rosa wraps her arms around herself and does not think about the scars she has hidden under her sleeves. Her voice is nearly a whisper when she says, “I don’t remember.”
The anger falls from Zima’s face, and Rosa hates herself even more. “Why would you starve yourself?” Zima asks with horror, the memory of hunger and malnourishment clear in her eyes.
Of course Zima feeds herself and treats her body well. She was always incredible, and was the one who pushed their little group to search for food and shelter and kept them all alive. Rosa wishes, not for the first time, she could be more like Zima.
“I don’t deserve to eat,” Rosa says. Hot tears roll down her cheeks.
“Rosa!” Zima is even closer now, and is reaching out to grab Rosa’s arm. “Of course you should eat. You’re alive! You need food!”
Once Zima touches her Rosa rips away, stumbling backwards and nearly swaying to the floor. She reaches out to catch the wall. She feels herself unraveling at the seams, after weeks and months of carefully holding herself together so no one would notice, no one would worry, no one would waste pity on someone as horrible as her. “You know what I did back home,” she says, hysteria edging into her voice. “How can I eat with all this blood on my hands?”
“We all did—things we wish we hadn’t,” Zima says, wavering now. “You’re no different than the rest of us. You’d never say Istina and the others don't deserve to eat!”
But Rosa can no longer hear her over the rushing in her ears. The world tilts and jerks like a boat on a choppy sea. “You should have killed me, Sonya. You should have killed me and found someone else to save, someone who hadn’t condemned so many to death. I should be dead!”
“No, Natalya!” Zima surges forward again, grabbing both of Rosa’s arms with so much strength she may bruise. “No one should be dead, including you!”
“I should be,” Rosa sobs, tears and snot flowing freely down her face and dripping off her chin. She’s as disgusting outside as she’s always been inside. “I’m selfish and greedy and I let them think they were better than the rest of you, that they weren’t killing other humans—Sonya, I’m so sorry Sonya—you should have killed me!”
“Stop saying that!”
In another life, Rosa would be properly horrified at the scene she’s making. She would notice the other operators peeking out of doors, looking to see what all the shouting and crying is about, but because she’s a self-centered opportunist who would sacrifice anyone if it means she can survive, all she can focus on is the overwhelming guilt and hatred flowing through her veins.
She wants to sink against Zima, and let Zima’s strong arms hold her until she returns to herself. She wants Zima to look at her and only her and if this is the only way she can get that to happen, then doesn’t that prove how truly, irredeemably awful she is?
“I h-hate the way you look at Anna,” Rosa babbles because she is thoroughly out of control now. Every little thought she’s done her best to conceal comes spewing out. “I should be happy for you, and I try, I try! But I want it to be me! I take and I take and I can’t be happy that we’re all safe now, not when I can’t have you!”
Zima’s grip on her loosens out of shock. She stares at Rosa, eyes wide. “Natalya... what—?”
“Don’t you see? Can’t you see now?!” Rosa breaks away, stepping and stumbling backwards while little spots dance in her vision. Hysteria has her in a chokehold. “I don’t deserve to be alive! I just waste space and take up your time. Once I’m dead you should leave me out in the wilderness to rot, so my body can feed the earth and I can finally do good for the world!”
Zima is still staring at her, her chest raising and falling too quickly. If Rosa’s vision wasn’t blurring, she might think Zima looks on the verge of tears. “Natalya,” Zima says, her voice cracking. “Natalya, come with me. You need help.”
“No one can help me!” Rosa practically screams. “I make everything worse!”
“Natalya, please,” Zima says, and Rosa can’t believe how her broken heart can shatter further at the way Zima says please.
“No, Sonya,” Rosa says, dizzier still from how fast the world is spinning around her. “No. No! I won’t!”
Zima says her name again, but it’s distorted by the time it reaches her ears, like echoing through water. The only reason Rosa notices she hits the wall is because she stops swaying. Everything becomes unnaturally bright; then her vision goes black, and Rosa is unconscious by the time she hits the floor.
-
Chernobog was lit in orange from all the fires that refused to burn out, in the weeks after Reunion left. It wasn’t so bad. The fires illuminated the wreckage in the city, making it safer for them to travel in the dark. Fire also saved their lives on some cold nights, though often that meant tolerating the stench of burning flesh. There were always bodies in the fires.
The sky was always covered in dark clouds at first. It would snow soot and ash, ruining any source of fresh water they may have found, and would leave them sneezing and coughing. They were always looking for food and never found enough. Natalya began to wonder why Sonya decided to spare her, and to bring her along, when all she did was consume valuable resources. Perhaps by showing mercy, Sonya had doomed them all to a slow death by starvation.
She did not say these thoughts out loud. She was terrified, and didn't want to be left on her own. Instead she slipped her meager scraps to Lada when she cried from hunger, or Anna when she went listless from the guilt of letting her friend die, or Rosalind when she tried her best to keep their spirits up.
It was a night after a long day of not eating, when it happened. The oppressive dark clouds had thinned over the past few days, and when the night suddenly became bathed in a gentle white light, all the girls looked up at the sky in surprise, hunger forgotten. They could see the moon.
Then, something green.
Natalya had seen green light like this before; her family would often make trips out to the best places in Ursus to view them, in fact. She had always loved them, but the ribbons of green-blue lights dancing across the stars had never been more beautiful than they were in the sky above her.
“Aurora borealis,” Anna breathed, perhaps to herself. The aurora had hung above Chernobog before, but perhaps they had the same effect on the other girls as they had on Natalya.
It was amazing, beholding something green after weeks of ugliness. Natalya’s world had been painted in blood, stone, and fire for so long, she’d forgotten what other colors looked like. She found herself crying small, awed tears.
They camped in the open that night. Natalya slept sound, feeling safe under the comforting glow of the aurora.
-
Rosa wakes to pain. Her entire body is sore, she has a splitting headache, and the needle feeding fluids into her arm throbs. It’s so bright in the room, opening her eyes is difficult. She then wishes she didn’t: she’s wearing a hospital gown, which puts the angry scars decorating her wrists on display.
A woman in a stark white lab coat glances her way, then stands and heads to the open door. She calls out, “Kal’tsit? Natalya’s awake.”
Moments later Dr. Kal’tsit walks through the door. “Call her Rosa,” she says to the woman. “She’s still an operator.”
And now Rosa feels like crying again. She was so sure her status as an operator would be stripped from her, once they found out how unstable she is. Not to mention she recognizes the woman in the lab coat—Operator Folinic, a medic from Ursus. During her time at Logistics Rosa looked up every operator from Ursus, looking for anyone who may recognize her family name and know how much she’s dragged it through the mud. Rosa had put Folinic down as a maybe.
Kal’tsit approaches the bed and checks the machines hooked up to Rosa. “How are you feeling?”
Rosa’s mouth's as dry as sandpaper. She’s not sure she can open it, so she shrugs in response.
“Your friends have been by,” Kal’tsit says. The heart rate monitor spikes, but she doesn’t mention it. “They were all worried about you. They wanted to be here when you woke up. I thought it best that you recover in peace and quiet, for now. However, if you want to see them I can send for them.”
Rosa shakes her head. Folinic comes up to her, holding a plastic cup of water with a straw. Drinking is a struggle. “Your body is very weak,” Folinic tells her. “You need to take it slow. Don’t get impatient with your recovery.”
“Folinic, could you get Rosa’s dinner?” Kal’tsit asks while she removes the needle from Rosa’s arm. Folinic nods and leaves. Kal’tsit then turns the full force of her attention to Rosa. “We’ve prepared a meal plan to get your stomach used to food again. Your dinner tonight is small. I want you to eat everything on your plate, no matter how long it takes. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Dr. Kal’tsit,” Rosa says quietly.
“I’ll be nearby,” Kal’tsit continues. “If you feel ill or faint, I’m here to help.”
Folinic comes back and sets a tray on a small table that swivels over the hospital bed. There’s not much food on her plate. A small scoop of white rice, some boiled green beans, and plain, skinless chicken. The utensils she’s given are plastic and have dull edges. “You can let me know if you want dessert,” Folinic says, smiling kindly. “I can cut you up a bit of fruit.”
“Thank you,” Rosa says, though she knows she absolutely does not want any dessert. She doesn’t even want dinner.
Folinic and Kal’tsit disperse then, Folinic to a nearby room with a second, fuller tray, and Kal’tsit to a desk in the same room Rosa’s bed is in. In fact, as Rosa looks around, she begins to think they may have set up a cot for her in some kind of office or longue for the medics. She understands why they would not put her in her own room. She’s on suicide watch.
She picks at her dinner, putting a few grains of rice in her mouth experimentally. They’re so mushy they’re easy to swallow, but aren’t that pleasant to eat. Still. Rosa suspects Kal’tsit is watching to ensure she’s genuinely trying to eat, so Rosa takes a couple more tiny bites.
She’s focused on cutting the chicken into miniscule pieces when a shadow passes over her. She looks up and is shocked to see a different woman, another patient, with red eyes and long, silver hair that looks like it was recently brushed and braided. “Hello,” the woman says, and Rosa remembers where she’s seen her before. This is Specter, the mad Aegir.
“Hello,” Rosa says back warily.
“I was told I’m not allowed to eat any of your food,” she says, sounding significantly more lucid than the times Rosa has brushed elbows with her in the past. “If I promise to not eat any, I can sit with you.”
Rosa glances over at Kal’tsit nervously, but the doctor isn’t looking in their direction. Is this an approved visit, then? “I see,” Rosa says after a long pause, because Specter seems to expect a response. “Thank you.”
Satisfied, Specter sits on the edge of Rosa’s bed, her own dinner tray balanced on her knees. Some of the food on her tray Rosa does not recognize, and she wonders if it’s a traditional Aegir dish. Specter eats properly, with a fork and knife, and her dinner disappears steadily. In contrast, Rosa’s meal is a fight she is losing horribly. All she can manage is a few nibbles here and there.
Once Specter is finished eating, she sets her tray aside and turns so she’s facing Rosa. It becomes harder to eat with someone watching her, and is especially unnerving with how laser-focused Specter is on her. Rosa is beginning to fear she may be attacked, and Kal’tsit still seems to not care one bit.
After another minute Specter takes the plastic utensils out of Rosa’s hands. Rosa freezes, sure that now Kal’tsit will turn around and admonish Specter for trying to eat Rosa’s food, and she doesn’t know if she does or doesn’t want this to happen. It would be nice to have Specter forced to leave her alone, but she also would like it if someone would save her from her struggle.
Specter then surprises her by carefully cutting her food. She spears a small piece of green bean, and holds the fork up to Rosa’s face. “Eat,” says Specter when Rosa doesn’t move. “If you don’t eat, you’ll be fitted with a feeding tube. It isn’t fun. Trust me.”
Rosa doesn’t know if she can trust Specter, but she does believe someone as notoriously ill as the Aegir in front of her has had a feeding tube before. Rosa opens her mouth and lets Specter feed her.
She should feel humiliated by this, shouldn’t she? Here she is, hospitalized because she was incapable of feeding herself for days, because she wishes she were dead, and she’s being fed her dinner by a woman so disconnected from her mind that she is incapable of living anywhere but in the med bay. It’s so easy to relinquish control, however. It’s much simpler to let someone do the hard work for her. Her family would be so ashamed of what she’s become.
She begins to cry again, a sniffling, resigned sort of crying, where she has to pause her chewing sometimes to wipe her eyes or blow her nose on the cheap, scratchy tissues Kal’tsit quietly puts next to her. Specter doesn’t react to Rosa’s tears. She simply continues to cut Rosa’s now-cold food and feed her small bites.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Specter says after a while. “Being alive, having to fill your belly. Dreading waking up tomorrow just to do it all over again. But sometimes you wake up and you’re glad you ate your fill the day before. Sometimes the sky is beautiful.”
It takes Rosa a moment to catch her breath. “Yes,” she says, “I understand.”
Specter smiles, showing off her sharp teeth. The rest of her dinner is easier to eat, after that.
Once Rosa’s tray is clear, Specter puts it on top of hers. She then stands, and she starts to walk away without saying another word.
“Wait,” Rosa says before she can stop herself. Specter turns back around. “I, uh—Thank you. Truly, thank you.”
Specter does not say You’re welcome or smile again or anything someone like Rosa would do. Instead she reaches out and grabs Rosa’s hand, and starts pulling her out of the bed. “Come,” Specter says, “look at the stars with me.”
Before she gets up, Rosa glances at Kal’tsit for permission. Kal’tsit gives her a small smile and waves her along. “That sounds lovely,” Rosa says to Specter.
Specter is so eager she practically drags Rosa down the halls of the med bay, and out to a small balcony with a high, unclimbable fence, where they’re met by another red-eyed, silver-haired Aegir Rosa knows by reputation alone. Skadi the walking catastrophe raises her eyebrows impassively. “I see you’ve made a friend.”
“Yes,” Specter says. “We ate together.”
Skadi nods, and Specter drops Rosa’s hand in favor of holding Skadi’s. Rosa looks away, trying to not be jealous, and is distraught to find the night is completely overcast. Her eyes search desperately for any patch of uncovered sky, until she has to admit to herself there is none.
Specter, in contrast, stands enraptured by the fence. Both she and Skadi gaze at the dark, cloudy sky. “Pardon me, Miss Specter,” Rosa says, her voice quiet. “I doubt there will be any stars tonight.” She swallows thickly. “I’m sorry.”
“Miss?” Specter repeats, giving Rosa a bewildered look. Then, to Skadi, she says, “Am I a Miss?”
Skadi shrugs. “The customs of land dwellers have never made sense to me.”
“But what have I missed?”
“Nothing. It’s a title. Meant as a sign of respect.”
“Respect?” Specter turns back to Rosa, her eyes glittering.
“Y-yes?” Rosa says. She’s a little confused by their conversation. Land dwellers? “I, ah, am very grateful that you’ve invited me to stargaze tonight, and I’m sorry we won’t see any—”
“There will be stars,” Specter assures her.
“...How can you be so sure?”
“They’re still there,” she says, pointing at the sky. “They never leave. They just hide, sometimes.”
“I-I suppose that is true,” Rosa says. Satisfied, Specter gazes at the clouds again. Rosa decides there’s no harm in doing the same, especially when her other options are to sit in a brightly-lit and silent room with Kal’tsit, or allowing her friends to see her like this.
They’re out on the balcony for a while. Rosa marvels at how comfortable it is, standing next to these two women, while doing and saying nothing. She feels so different from when she stood holding a guardrail and watching the sunrise this morning.
Eventually the wind picks up. Rosa watches the clouds move and shift, and then it happens. The clouds part long enough for one beautiful, lonely star to twinkle at them, like it’s saying hello.