Nimbus 2056 Part 15 Take 1

“What good are we now? What use do two impractical people have in a world that doesn’t have a use for them?” Fableton asked as the sun rose in front of him.

“I can’t make fire with my bare hands. I can’t hunt. I can’t even fucking run anymore.” Fableton added to his tirade.

“Well least you can use your hands!” Geblen responded. “I’ve lost feeling in my pinkie fingers, and if I try to use my other fingers it’s painful.”

“Before we fall deeper into this pit of self despair. Is there a bright side to our situation?” Fableton hoped to remain positive.

The two men befuddled, thought about exactly that. Their minds were racing to find any benefits of being before contemporary history.

“No taxes?” Gelben said.

“Ok, that’s one.” Fableton added.

“Climate change isn’t a thing yet.” Fableton chirped.

“Well that is true, because it never existed in the first place.” Gelben answered.

“Hold up! You don’t think that man had changed how the earth regulated itself?” Fableton questioned.

“Yeah, it’s all bullshit propaganda to deceive people into submission. It’s the liberal’s bogie man! Ain’t no way that man could change the climate.” Gelben spoke.

“Christ! You’re thick! We are getting off topic here. You are wrong though.” Fableton answered.

“No, you are the wrong one!” Gelben retorted.

“They’ve done studies!” Fableton debated.

“Oh yeah ‘studies’ You mean a bunch of book smart nerds got together and were paid by special interest groups? Real credible sources you got there! Always follow the money you buffoon!” Gelben was dead set in his ways.

“God! You are an ignorant!” Fableton insulted.

Both men’s frustration was piling up. It was irritating but a welcome distraction. The debate removed their minds from the bleakness of their situation.

“Fine, we will do what civilized people do, agree to disagree. You keep your thoughts about the world to yourself, and I will keep mine to myself.” Gelben instructed.

“I just don’t see a way out of this. There is no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow. I am used to getting what I want. Where we are now, what I want isn’t even possible.”

“What do you want?” Fableton inquired.

“A nice wobble sifter of cognac, warming in my palm, paired with a hand rolled cigar, watching my net worth increase. It’s the simple things in life really.” Gelben.

“That’s what you call simple?! I would be happy if I could cuddle with my dog, wrapped up in a blanket with a good show.” Fableton. “It’s so far away. What are we going to do?”

“There is one thing.” Gelben responded.

“What?”

“Go numb, forget everything.” Gelben described.

“Like self medicate? I got pretty professional at that, after my dad died.” Fableton commented.

“Yeah, but let’s take it a step further.” Gelben suggested.

“You mean, like O.D?”

“We ain’t helping no one by being here. So what if we fully recover? What then? We recover to get killed by something else in this God awful place? Or succumb to infection? It seems like here, we are minutes away from being something else’s next meal! No thank you. I want to go out on my terms!” With each word that left Gelben’s lips he became more certain it was the right thing to do.

“But, what about the others? What would they say?” Fableton tried to build a counter argument.

“You mean the people we can’t understand, the failed pilot, and the aspiring model? Yes, let’s live by their expectations of survival!” Gelben’s sarcasm cut like a knife.

“But…. But….” Fableton failed to find a response.

“We got to move quick before the other’s wake up. Come on!” Gelben started sliding down from the top of the ship.

They crept through the slumbering people, and found the medical supply. They took what they needed.

“It’s too much work to get back up on top of the ship. Here should do it.” Gelben pointed next to the burnt out ashes of the fire from before.

“I can’t hold the needle. Could you help me out?” Gelben pleaded.

“Do I have a choice?” Fableton pondered aloud.

“If you want to be an asshole you do.” Gelben proclaimed.

Gelben outstretched his arms revealing a single vein above the bandage on his left arm. “Be a pal. would ya?”

Fableton gulped as he filled the syringe of carfentanil. “This should do it.”

He prodded the needle into Gelben’s arms and plunged the medicine down.

It was quick. It required little effort. Gelben’s pupils dilated, then a last puff of air escaped his lungs. His wish had been granted. Now it was Fableton’s turn. His eyes began to water as he refilled the syringe.

He bit the opposite end of a piece of string to tighten the knot around his arm. The vein came forth from the restriction. Fableton saw what he must do. His grip trembled and the syringe in his hand began to wobble. He reached back and closed his eyes. One final stab and he would know what was on the other side. He tried. He couldn’t. He tried again. He wouldn’t bring himself to harm himself in this way. He much preferred the slow voluntary method of gradual self pollution.

With Gelben laying deceased next to him, Fableton’s brain put it together, that if he did this he would die. Yet, even if his brain was clinging to self preservation, his mind listened to the reasoning of the dead man. What is the point of living if it is only to exist?

Fableton tried to calm the lizard brain as much as he could, and got ready for another stab at it.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip.

“WAIT WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!” Stuckey’s voice warned.