| Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Omni Flash |
Something just woke Waldemar up. He lifts his hand and performs the gesture
to raise the lights, thinking there has to be something in the room. There’s
not. His heart is racing, which has never happened before. His heart rate
has literally never spiked in any situation besides exercise. Was he
exercising in his sleep? That’s ridiculous, but possible, right? “Computer,
health report.”
“You are experiencing sinus tachycardia, acute diaphoresis, neuromuscular
hyperactivity, and an apparent acute stress response.”
“Laymen’s terms, asshole! I’m sorry,” Waldemar says. “That was rude.” Wait,
what? That was rude? So what? It’s a computer, it doesn’t matter.
Even if it were a real person, it wouldn’t. But...wouldn’t it, though? It
seems to have a personality. It may be artificial, but it’s still an
intelligence, and it deserves respect. No, why is he worried about this?
There is something seriously wrong here. “I think I’m having a heart
attack.”
“Elevated heart rate, sweating, shaking, fear,” the computer
translated itself. “My initial assessment is that you are experiencing a panic attack.”
“That’s literally impossible,” Waldemar argues. “My brain is not wired to
panic, it just isn’t. I don’t understand fear at all. I’ve never worried
about things. Check again.”
“From this vantage point, I am unable to measure your neural patterns to
make a deeper medical evaluation, but I am not detecting myocardial
ischemia, or—”
“That’s enough!” Waldemar orders. He sits on the edge of his bed and
massages his face. It’s slick. He has to pick his sheet up and use it as a
towel. His mind begins to dwell on everything bad he’s ever done in his
life. Everyone he’s sent to hock, ever policy he passed which caused harm to
the ship; all for his own self interest. How could he have been that way?
None of it makes sense anymore. He doesn’t even want to think about it. The
horror—the suffering he caused. He killed people. They weren’t saints, but
he didn’t have the right to end them. He doesn’t know what to do now. His
body seems to choose for him. He feels more sweat on his face, so he grabs
the sheet again and wipes it off. It’s all under his eyes, and just keeps
coming. Is there a cluster of sweat glands there? He doesn’t remember that
from school. Hold on, it’s not coming from his skin. It’s coming from inside
his eyes. Is this crying? Is he crying? That’s impossible too!
The door opens. In walks Silveon. “Captain. Captain, are you okay?”
“How are you here?” Waldemar asks. Definitely crying, he can hear it in his
own voice. He’s heard it before from others, and it was always very
annoying. “Why?”
“The computer told me something was wrong,” he says. “It thought it was
better that I come than a doctor, a therapist, or anyone else. Tell me what
you’re feeling.”
“Feeling?” Waldemar questions. “I don’t have those. I...I don’t know how to
articulate it. It’s...heavy? It’s like a darkness over my face. I can’t stop
thinking about the people I’ve hurt. Audrey. Audrey’s in my mind, and I
can’t get her to go away.”
Silveon nods. “Do you know why you have not been able to feel in the past?”
“I’m psychic,” Waldemar answers. “I can sense everyone’s darkness. But
it’s...it’s all jumbled together, so it’s not like I feel their emotions. Am
I broken?”
“You’re not broken,” Silveon replies. “I think you’re healed. That kind of
psychic power is a curse, not a gift. I don’t know how, but it looks like
it’s gone, and the real you can finally come out. You are a deeply
thoughtful person. You’re intelligent, and strategic. It’s what makes you a
great captain. What you were missing was empathy. You cared what happened to
people, but not how they thought about it. Now you do.”
Waldemar stands. “If this is true, then there’s a lot I need to make up for.
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