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This fanfiction article, DT 2023: I Don't Know And I'm Afraid, was written by Distant Tide. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
Merlin started out on the porch of the often-called “Althean Estate” looking up at the star-filled night sky. However, after eight minutes with the cabin floodlights Callum insisted on leaving on and pointed towards the forest and foothills, he decided somewhere else was better.
His augmented eyes worked as a double-edged sword, allowing Merlin to absorb more light for natural night vision but required Merlin to traveled further into the Furthest Point wild underbrush to find real darkness. Despite a cool breeze, hacking away at bushes and saplings with a composite sword for two kilometers mixed with the forest humidity to poor results. Merlin broke into a sweat and grunted to himself in annoyance at the idea of another shower.
Some things did change for Merlin, now the Earth-age of twenty; he didn’t worry about hot water limitations or the waste of second showers in the day. They called him “Showerhead” back in Spartan training because he spent an entire year experimenting against the extremes of mandated water rations. Merlin was finally learning not to care. He clambered over a two-meter boulder and pulled his legs up the sheer rockface onto the first proper outcropping where he found some acceptable darkness.
Merlin turned and noted a fused headstone along the cliff where his girlfriend Andra settled her respects to Joshua-G024, her deceased mentor. He didn’t intend to find his way to Andra’s loner spot but he might as well use it.
He offered the etched name a short nod of acknowledgement despite the itch of an ancient wound against his ribcage. Merlin learned from Josh a particular lesson about the impossible sometimes being probable, like how an armored Spartan could shatter another Spartan’s “unbreakable” bones.
“She misses you; you know right?” Merlin mumbled to the deceased. Nobody knew where Josh’s body was but when other Spartans recovered and used his equipment, his story wrote itself. He died as ONI envisioned, missing-in-action.
Merlin imagined Josh’s spirit answering back, sitting on the grave and sharpening Merlin’s machete—somehow stolen without Merlin’s awareness as Josh would. He would say something elegant, well-read, and a little pretentious: ‘We all walk different paths in life, at some point we start to lose more than we gain. Spartans begin earlier than most. You’ll both learn that in time.’
And the Merlin of today shrugged because he was almost Josh’s age when he died. The impression of Josh belonged to Merlin, the words and meaning belonged to him too. Josh was more plain-spoken in real life and whipped out the crack-philosophy when he needed to prove a point. Josh might speak from beyond the grave and delivering advice, but any lessons learned belonged to Merlin now. He suffered enough to find himself in Joshua’s place. Josh’s ghost just hung around for the scathing self-criticism Merlin tried to mask as an external force. Fifteen years after Spartan training, and no one seem to beat the doubts out of him.
Merlin continued, talking to the headstone. “The stars are bright out tonight, don’t you agree? Almost like a megacity in the sky, and the ground below is the night.”
Imaginary-Josh didn’t respond and Merlin didn’t wait to conjure a response for the dead man. He pushed the conversation onward: “Andra told me you were going through some things before you died. Feeling depressed, or nostalgic for something. You struggled along time about your role in the UNSC? Well, guess what, I’ve joined the club.”
Joshua said and did nothing, the fascination of excess knife-sharping losing its luster.
Merlin continued, “Seems like the Universe decided to move from one problem to another pretty quick: the Covenant, the Created, and the Banished. And rebels before all of them. Turns out the rebels were never so bad, or I guess I met the not-so-bad ones? Kinda undercuts the whole ‘saviors of humanity’ thing we learned in Spartan training. It’s harder now to point-and-shoot at aliens now too. There are good and bad aliens, and you got to figure out whether you’re shooting at the right ones. You remember Simon-G294 right? Your company’s problem child? He’s an asshole like ONI said, but he’s not so bad either. At least Cassandra tries to keep him on the neutral side of things. But several tours with his aliens and rebels is a great way to get all confused in the head for a good, little UNSC Spartan like myself.”
Merlin shook his head in humorless laughter. He bared his teeth at the old Spartan. Josh’s old face just stared back, locked in an eternal state of contemplation, perplexity, or cunning—another chance to bludgeon Merlin into learning ‘another’ lesson.
“Josh, what would you do if you weren’t a Spartan? Or were alive and could walk away?”
Josh shrugged from atop his headstone, ‘I don’t know. Can’t remember.’
“Well, I don’t have an answer. It’s impossible to tell how many Spartans walked away from their posts now but Callum is proof of it. The Created was an opportunity to disappear, and I’m stuck with his secret now. I got to go back to Avery Johnson Academy soon and report nothing. That another Spartan is still dead. I got to…but I don’t know why. What else am I supposed to be as a Spartan? What else am I supposed to do?”
The wind spoke for Josh, ‘I don’t know…’
Merlin paused, not really thinking, or speaking aloud to Josh’s memory anymore. He stared up at the stars and knew the shapes of the new constellations Furthest Point children were conjuring, but not the well-documented constellation names from the starfield over Earth’s night sky. Merlin turned around, half-hoping Andra or Callum had made the trek up to surprise or talk to him. Maybe answer his frustrations and give guidance where his imagination couldn’t fill in the blank.
No one approached through the woods or along Merlin’s chopped up pathway. The night was Merlin’s time with a lonely rock and no answers. He had many thoughts and questions about “everything.” Increasingly, he was becoming frustrated with his own lack of answers. The freedom of Furthest Point gave him a chance to layback and not be a Spartan. But it left him with a deeply-placed, unsettling fear. ‘Why should he continue living as a Spartan, and what does a Spartan do if they stop?’
There wasn’t a choice before. Now there was. And where Josh didn’t have an opportunity to decide, Merlin now did.