From the Voyage of the Lustre 1-11-99


Simon sat in the chair, hands on his knees, eyes open. The only thing visible in a darkness thicker than despair, was the pale white silhouette of Alyx's lifeless body.

A sound at the door reawakened him to the present and he sighed and commanded the lights to brighten. He stood for a moment looking down at her still form. Death had erased much of the false age from her face. The clear light showed him what he had not been able to see in the dark; the age lines had softened, and there was a peaceful smile etched into her expression. He straightened, bringing himself slowly to his full height and then strode purposefully to the door.

He immediately saw through the sympathetic mask worn by the coroner. And why shouldn't the man feel anything but annoyance after being roused from a warm bed in the middle of the night? To Dr. Jamesen MacCullen, Alyx's death was nothing more than an inconvenience. Simon stepped aside and let the man and his entourage inside. Like a silent parade, they filed past him to the living room.

He closed his ears to the whispered words of the men as they went about their business, the security man examining the scene with little interest, the coroner and his assistant placing Alyx's stiffening body into the customary wrappings. Neither did he hear the soft zipping sound of the bag as she was sealed away from him forever. He remained by the open door until the lift was pushed into the corridor and then he turned towards Dr. McCullen.

"No," Simon said before the question was asked.

"But an autopsy-"

"I said, no." Simon looked directly at the man then, his eyes begging for an argument.

Dr. McCullen cleared his throat and looked away. "Very well, then. Have you a thought to the services? The body will be prepared in the morning, anytime after that and-"

"The body will be prepared immediately," Simon said. "There will be no services. I will be waiting in air lock three."

Dr. McCullen paused before nodding and then he hurried away. Simon went to the com. The woman answered, sleepy-eyed and half dressed. He fixed his gaze on a spot over her left shoulder and said, "Simone needs you. Now." He closed the connection and did not wait for her to arrive.

Two hours later he stood behind glass and watched as Alyx's body, enveloped in a long black tube, was jettisoned into space. When the door sealed shut, he leaned his forehead against the cold window and with eyes closed, let the Tennyson verse fall from his lips in a trembling whisper.

None like her, none.
Just now the dry-tounged laurel's pattering talk
Seem'd her light foot along the garden walk,
And shook my heart to think she comes once more
But even then I heard her close the door,
The gates of Heaven are closed and she is gone.