Death is the ultimate inevitability. Face it with bold dignity or with shrieking rage, but face it nonetheless. -- Anon Guest
The air is so thin. Even my livesuit can't get me enough. It's so cold and my heaters are busted. Its priority is keeping my brain alive, but soon... not even that.
Have to get to the top.
Got the tools. Got the thing. Beacon. Yes. Got the beacon. Get it up above the clouds and save the fuzzies. They're nice and safe. They got enough. For now.
Gotta get up high. Put beacon up top. Activate it. Only so much battery, even with the solar wings. Gotta tie it down. The wind is awful.
So cold. Can't feel my toes. Can't feel my hands. Can't feel my face. It's good. It's good. Means I can't take off the suit.
Keep climbing. No rest. No rest for the wicked. What'd I do in a prior life to deserve this? I'm sorry. I dunno what I did but I'm sorry. Gotta save the fuzzies.
So hard to breathe. So hard to move.
I think.
I think this is it.
The beacons as high as I can go. Its on. Solar sails... working.
It's all good.
Fuzzies are going home.
If you find me... if you find my bod... tell them. Tell them I did my best.
Can I sleep now?
Think I've earned it.
Whatever's next? You gotta know I tried.
Has.
To be.
Worth.
Something.
[Image by Massimiliano Morosinotto on Unsplash]
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