There was nothing left to do. Max's head spun round and round, trying to find a way. One single answer became evident, like an unavoidable conclusion; the ship must be destroyed. That way, the fireflies would never reach the sor system. But it entailed sacrifices, and one of them was leaving the refuge that had turned into his mausoleum. It didn't matter how many reached the reactor. They would die anyway. Naomi had curled up with him, and every time he looked at her, Max couldn't help but feel disappointment. It was clear that they wouldn't be able to fulfill the promise they made. He tried to put a spin on it, that if not for this life, it would be for the next, if there was one. — There has to be another way. — he told himself. He lost track of how long he had been wandering. The focus slipped through his fingers, and he ended up strolling through memories he couldn't recall. A gloomy hallway that seemed like some kind of clinic. Nebulous figures surrounded by a dazzling white light. The voice of Matías Nakamura. — Do you really want to do this, Max? It's not advisable before a prolonged hypersleep period. — he aked. What had he done? He wondered. As he tried to dig into his own memories, a sharp pain shot from his left eye, piercing through to scratch his brain. Each time he tried to remember, the pain increased until it became an unbearable migraine. That's why he stopped trying and gave up on remembering. And when he tried to put on the captain's jacket one st time, he felt even more miserable. He had made another impossible promise, and this time it was to Lay. He would be there for her, and nothing in the world could ever separate them again. A part of him had resigned, thinking of sweetened words as a farewell. — Sis, I'm so sorry. We won't be able to see each other again. — just thinking about it made a knot form in his throat, and tears threatened to spill. Then, the cycle repeated, and he said to himself again — There has to be another way. — Naomi clung to him, as if she also wanted to find a glimmer of hope. For his part, Harding had already thought of something. The Pn D. He pced whisky gsses. Six in total. Max abandoned his search, and so did Naomi, and they watched what the security chief was doing. Yakiv frowned, and Ayna's face showed an expression of astonishment and expectation. Satoshi was just tired with a hint of surprise. Harding, peace with a certain resignation. He pced two ice cubes in each gss. — Harding, what are you doing? — Max asked him. The old man just gestured with his hands, asking for patience, and went back the way he came. They heard him opening box after box, murmuring to himself. — Here it is! — he said from a distance. When he returned, he walked solemnly with a bottle in his hands. An amber, oily liquid was visible through it, and the condensation on the surface indicated that it was very cold. A blue and gold bel wrapped around it, and in letters reminiscent of the cheesy Martian Westerns that Max enjoyed so much, it read: "Uncle Raynor. The First Martian Whisky. Since 2209. — Blue Label. Special Edition of the Four-Hundredth Anniversary. New Homestead; Mariners Valley. Denomination of Origin. Harding stared at the bottle with pride, as his eyes became watery and he nodded to himself. Silently, he invited those present to sit around the table. One by one, they obeyed. First were Max and Naomi. Then Satoshi. Finally, Ayna, followed by a Yakiv full of suspicion, who remained standing. — I promised I would open it for a special occasion. Like when Max became captain of the Chronos or when he married Naomi, for example. I'm sure it would have happened. How many trips have you been together? — neither of them answered, and they looked at him like two scared cats, knowing that something bad was about to happen. Harding smiled to himself, looking at the bottle — I'm sure Matkovich would have done the ceremony. It would have been nice. A wedding among Nightflyers is not something you see every day. No one has married here on the Chronos, not even Zhang and me. — — You two were like Max's parents. I always imagined you married. — Naomi tried to joke. Harding nodded, with an expression full of nostalgia, and let out a validating chuckle. As if his life's purpose had finally been fulfilled. — You don't know how much I appreciate that. — he replied softly. Max felt his chest sink. He had never seen him like this. Harding shook the bottle in his hands and showed it to everyone, as if it were a trophy — I kept it cold, aging it all the way since we bought it. I was convinced it would give it some special fvor. Then, when we stopped a year ago, near Lacaille 8760, Dr. Cortázar let me know that what I did only applies to fermented drinks, and with distilled ones, it doesn't work. I felt like a fool. But it reassured me to know it will have the same fvor it’s supposed to have. — — And what do you pn to do with it, Harding? — Max's question came directly, and his gaze remained fixed on the security chief. The old man kept his head down as he uncorked the bottle and began to pour the gsses, distributing one for each. The lines on his face deepened with a somber and sad expression. When he met Max's gaze again, there was only pain, as if he were about to say something horrible. — To give us our st drunk. — he decred. Max's face contorted as if he had been spped. A nervous smile appeared on his face, and then he emphatically shook his hands and head. — No. — Max decred —. No. I'm sorry, Harding. Save it for another time. Not now. This isn't over. — — Kid, there's nothing left to do. — he replied. — Yes, there is! — Max interrupted, raising his voice. Naomi shrank into herself, and Harding didn't dare face him. The silence became deafening, and the tension seemed to cut the air with a knife. Max tried to dig for one st pn of action. Something that would ensure everyone's survival and could satisfy his promise. He found nothing but an emptiness and the certainty of a horrible idea. He cursed inwardly, biting back the helplessness — We can still destroy the ship. It's the st thing we have left to do. Only then will we have prevented an outbreak. These things won't reach the sor system. — — Fine. Then Isolda will arrive, they will find the fireflies like us, and the sacrifice will be in vain. — Harding retorted. — We will leave a warning. — Max insisted. — And how will we escape? — Naomi asked him softly, trying to find the st drop of hope that might remain —. How will they rescue us afterward? — It hit Max like a punch in the gut. He wanted to lie. They would find some disposable module. They would get inside and wait for the next ship.But then he remembered Murat's death. The crunching of his pulverized bones under the tentacles echoed in his eardrums. That beast rising beneath the pnt crushed his st hopes, along with the deafening scream of a million souls. The hypersleep beds and cryogenic systems clung to the viscous, pulsing body of that sinister Kraken. Then, the walls of the ship seemed to be closing in on him. He realized he was groping in the dark, and that hope had run out a long time ago. He lowered his gaze, feeling powerless, and let his shoulders drop, staring into nothingness. — I don’t know. — he replied. — Believe me, I thought the same. — Harding tried to console him —. But it’s a futile effort. Daimonji was our Chief of Engineering. He would have thought of it too, and the only reason we’re not a cloud of burning dust by now is because they tried and failed. Trying to get to Engineering is suicide. Those things will be waiting for us, just like under the Water Treatment Pnt. And since we’re going to die anyway, I’d rather do it in peace, surrounded by the people I love, drinking good whisky and remembering good times, rather than being torn apart, devoured, and assimited like the rest of the crew. That’s all I can offer you. — There had to be another way. Max was determined to believe it, and he kept going around in circles. They were going to die anyway, whether they tried or not. The fireflies would come for them, as the refuge had been doomed since the corpse of the Fairy kept growing out there. All that was left was to gather around the table, being part of their own wake and funeral. Is this how it all ends? he wondered. Max held his face, realizing that the answer seemed affirmative. It was over. There was nowhere to go. Harding finished pouring his own gss. — A couple of trips ago, before the mutiny with the captain, we had a conversation. — Harding said as he swirled the whisky and contempted it in his hands —. The day the Chronos had its st flight, and Matkovich, may he rest in peace, was dead, I would be the one to close the doors from the outside and turn off the lights. — He raised the gss as if toasting, though he did it for himself and for all the fallen —. I’m afraid that day has come. — That’s what he said before taking a sip. With those words, Naomi began to cry silently. *** After the third gss of whisky, Max was not so bothered by the idea of his own death. Apparently, neither was Naomi. — If we’re going to die, I prefer it to be like this, rather than losing control, as I’ve feared for a long time. I’m grateful that at least they gave me a choice. — she confessed. The fact that she was a Bck Shadow was the least of their problems. At that moment, they were all that remained of the crew. The refuge, a barbecue area on the crew deck, had been a meeting and celebration point. That’s where Naomi and Max connected, during the captain’s birthday. Apparently, that’s where they would end up dying, though together and in peace. Now, they all y gathered before the funeral of the Chronos, being mourners and retives at the same time. Sudden tremors, followed by prolonged and distant wails, like those of a dying underwater creature, reminded them of their st choice. There was no other possible path. The Forest of Fireflies continued to grow, relentless, and there was nothing left to cling to, other than their own memories, and the idea of an afterlife waiting for them. — Do you remember our first interaction? — Naomi asked Max softly, breaking the silence. — How could I forget it? — he replied —. We were around the grill. — — Gavin was bragging that the Protein Printers finally learned to make Picanhas. Murat was making double entendre jokes, and you were just ughing, trying to maintain the facade of a cool guy and hide that you were drunk. — she added —. Sawatari was telling me that his st date was as fun as being in the Sensor Room during cruise speed. — — Although the Chronos was a vilge inside a can. — Harding pointed out, while pouring another gss for himself —. There weren’t many options, to say the least. — — Or it was very picky. — Satoshi observed. — Also. — Max agreed. — The point is that I didn’t pay much attention. — Naomi concluded —. Because I was looking at your shirt. I thought it was silly. — — What was silly about it? — Yakiv asked. — What it said on it. — Max replied. — And what did it say? — Ayna asked. Max gave a weak smile and emphatically pointed to his chest with both hands. — "Poylo. — he replied —. Crap. It’s a Punk band from Callisto. But Naomi didn’t know that. — he added —. Then she cut off Sawatari’s monologue, and she was pointing at me, like when a kid sees a cyborg for the first time. Everyone fell silent, even the music stopped, because the new crew member stood in the middle of everything, staring at me with an accusing finger. I didn’t know how to react until she asked me very loudly, –Why do you like the Crap?– And then everyone burst out ughing. — — After that, we talked. I don’t know how we got to reincarnations. — Naomi said —. It must have been because we smoked a blunt of Psma Candy, and because Max was rambling about the ship’s cycle, where even the dead are useful for the Chronos. I had asked him how it was possible to have mutant marijuana aboard a Starscraper. It seemed he wished someone would ask him that someday. One thing led to another. The molecules incorporating into the ship’s environment and so on. Max concluded that, if you reincarnate, you have to take care of all the things you left unfinished in your previous life. At the time, it seemed to me like his shirt: silly, and also pretentious. But right now, I can’t find it more true. There are many things I wanted, and it seems I’ll leave them for the next time. — A silence fell over them, where even the fireflies seemed to hush. Naomi stared into nothingness, holding her gss without touching it. — And what is it that you wanted? — Ayna asked timidly. — A normal life. — A deep, mournful roar resonated through the walls, like the collective ment of the fireflies, and all the souls they had assimited along the way. The entire module shook, as during an earthquake, and a viscous explosion was heard from outside. Something had burst, and was oozing tons of exudate, while gss after gss shattered. A smell of putrid corrosion seeped into the air, reminding them that life support was failing. The roar increased in intensity, and the barbecue area shook violently. Ayna covered her head, while Max waited for tendrils to sprout from the walls and ceiling to eat them. Nothing happened, and little by little, the commotion ended, until once again silence fell with an inhuman growl that dissipated. — Alright. It’s time. — Harding warned. After taking his st drink straight, he pced several pill boxes on the table, along with his revolver and six bullets. One for each of them —. It’s now or never. — An impossible sense of peace took hold of them. As they finished their gsses, they stood up and went to the mattresses, where they would lie down for the st time. They would sleep deeply in a slumber from which they would never awaken. A handful of benzodiazepines that would melt their liver and kidneys. They wouldn’t feel pain, because the Alfevac would kill them, and the Gumotanol would make them feel happy about it. Just to make sure, once everyone fell submerged in that heavy sleep, Harding would make them reunite with death. A heartbreaking crime scene, or an act of compassion. With what was happening around them, moral codes no longer mattered. Max thought that, if it weren’t for the fireflies, he might have even had sex with Naomi one st time.Waiting for that cocktail and sitting on the mattress, peace became diffuse for Max, and suddenly he found himself cornered. His heart rose to his throat as cold sweat trickled down his back. It wasn't death he feared, nor what y on the other side, but the idea that the fireflies, taking his pieces and dead matter, could bring them back. Opening his eyes, tormented by an indescribable agony and an insatiable hunger, fused with the ghosts of Chronos in an abstract and repugnant broth. It was like not having a mouth and wanting to scream. —. Max, what's wrong? — Naomi asked him with an apprehensive tone. He shook his head. —. What if they don't let us die? — he questioned in a low, trembling voice —. What if they bring us back? — —. That won't happen. — Naomi assured, taking his hands, looking at him with hopeful eyes —. They can take our bodies, but they won't take our souls. — Max wanted to protest, but she put a finger on his mouth —. You told me that more than once. To this day, they can't prove or verify the existence of the soul. — —. We can't judge a supernatural phenomenon with natural ws. — he finished. —. Exactly. And that's why we'll be safe. — Max nodded, and understood that there was nothing more to be done. So he took Naomi's hands tightly, and looked at her, aware that it would be the st time he would do so. —. I promise you that whatever form we find ourselves in, I will search for you, I will find you, and I will give us the life I promised and couldn't give you now. — Naomi let out a small ugh, and when she closed her eyes, tears slid down her tearful cheeks. —. Max, I am a Bck Shadow. On the other side, nothing good awaits me. If it's as you say, I will carry the weight of my own actions, and I will have to pay for them... — —. And I will search for you anyway. — he interrupted her —. I will search for you, even if I have to go to hell for you. Even if it takes a million lives to do it, I will do it to be with you, and fulfill what I promised us. Because I won't rest until then. — He couldn't help but bring a smile to her face, a warm, sincere, and heart-wrenching one. The st they would see of each other, and they wanted to etch it in fire. They were melting into an embrace when Harding handed each of them a napkin, and inside them, the cocktail that would reunite them in death. Only then did Max become aware of what they were about to do. Contempting those pills seemed unreal. Pills of all colors, seemingly harmless. Suddenly, that speech about reincarnation seemed stupid and cowardly. He was the Second in Command. No. He was the damn Acting Captain, damn it. And very happily, he was throwing in the towel. They could die, it's true. But what would happen to Isolda? They would find Chronos. The fireflies would board, devouring, recombining, and assimiting both crew and passengers. If EREBUS was still alive, he would continue with the rhetoric of protecting the crew at all costs, and would allow their advance. Not content with that, he would head towards the sor system, where humanity would be happily doomed. What would Matkovich do in my pce? He asked himself again. Destroy the damn ship, the voice of the old man in his head replied. Healthy, half-machine, and imposing, as he remembered. There was the answer. But Max didn't want to die either. There had to be some way to achieve it and survive. Yakiv and Ayna received the cocktail from Harding. She took it in her hands as if it were a host. Seeing it, Max felt his stomach turn. Then he began to pray silently. If there was any god in the heights, that, please, would grant them a miracle. Something that would allow them to destroy the ship and survive. The promise to Naomi? He wanted to fulfill it now, or stop calling himself Max Picard. Be it coincidence or miracle, something happened. The intercom's horn sounded insistently, and then everyone turned to look. They stared at each other in astonishment. They saw it ring for a full minute, buzzing insistently until it turned off. Ten seconds ter, it rang again, and this time, Harding approached to answer.