Does that make me a coward? To force her to take the harder path, to live without one's heart for the rest of her days, while I get to pass through the veil seeing her face through the shimmering heat?
Perhaps. The decision is long since made now.
I cannot feel the heat anymore. Or rather, I have chosen not to feel it, I suppose. My mind can take only so much. Thank you, mind. The world crawls past at a glacial rate while I burn, unfeeling.
There is the disengage console. I key in the compartment vent sequence ponderously with shrinking fingers. The heat is replaced by dragging thunder, and I am blown out into space. The Dark Man wraps his fingers around mine, and then around the rest of me, and I have done it for her.
It is not so bad a thing.
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