Endosymbiosis

10. Toxicology

"Protect from what?"

"Anything beyond..." That my imagination wasn't even capable of speculating. "And today they say that this same design can be seen anywhere in the galaxy, even if made by different stars."

I could see her curiosity transpire as her eyes flew across the sky.

"What about that rectangle?" She pointed to a set of four stars, the shape almost so perfect that they almost seemed to have been put it there on purpose.

"That's the vault of glory. The stories tell that those born into worlds where this constellation can be seen are destined to achieve great glory... But only after paying an even higher price to be entitled to it..." That seemed to frighten her.

"Do you believe these stories?"

I shook my head. I wouldn't call what was in my mind "believing" but perhaps "wishing".

"I believe in fights, heroes and glories..." Although never in my life... Except for the first one. "I believe in the comfort of imagining that destiny itself is written somewhere, and I believe that, perhaps after wishing it for long enough, it can be made real... By our own efforts." I shrugged.

"But do you believe that, if something other than you planned your destiny, would it be impossible to... Escape?"

I opened a smile that didn't comfort her much.

"Of all the things I've come across in this galaxy, the stars are the ones that worry me the least."

She looked up at the sky as if it were her biggest curse.

"Is there something in this galaxy that you don't know?" Donecea challenged me.

"The core."

"This is about to change, apparently."

Inescapable.

As we got closer to the nearest planet in the fourth noxdiem of travel, a light flashed on the Hasta panel. She was thirsty; and if I didn't land for energy as soon as possible, we'd become hostages to inertia.

I walked to the other area of ​​the Hasta, where Donecea was waiting for something to happen, sitting on the bed with her eyes on her black notebook and open letters scattered across the comforter. She looked so comfortable between my covers that, for a moment, I felt like an intruder on my own ship and thought about not disturbing her... But, before I could disappear behind the wall, she had already seen me.

Donecea closed the notebook and quickly gathered the letters, hiding them behind her back as if my gaze were poisonous.

Apparently I wasn't the only one with something to hide.

"We'll have to land." I warned. "I need to recharge the ship."

"This is a good time to take your dose then. The one that will prevent the fevino from consuming you from the inside out." She reminded me, as if I could forget. "You need one dose every 7 noxdiems." A noxdiem was the time of a rotation of the District of Power, the world in which Itopis' central palace stood, around its sun near the galaxy's core. It lasted for a few Earth days, but I had never stopped to count how many.

Her hands moved over the vials stored in her iatric bag and, with swift skill, she measured the doses and mixed clear liquids whose labels were impossible to read from the distance I was standing.

I was as much in her hands as the medicine cup she offered me.

I saw the drink as an expression that made her try to encourage me:

"Come on." She laughed. "I'm sure you've had worse things."

"Never poison."

Her eyes told me I should beware of the danger facing me, like a shot of whiskey waiting for me to pour into my lips.

On Earth we were constantly reminded of the punishments for destroying each other and we were forced to cultivate pity, forgiveness and empathy, even when there was none within us to feel. But here, in the middle of the cold, infertile emptiness of space, so far removed from all advice and rules, there was nothing to move us but self-preservation. And I wouldn't be surprised if she thought she'd be safer if I was dead.

"And this won't be your first time." She insisted.

What alternative did I have? I took the cup before it evaporated.

"I think it's important for you to know something first..." She drew herself up, attentive. "If my heart stops, the ship explodes." I studied the neutral expression on her face. "Are you sure I should continue?"

"You shouldn't have stopped."

She wouldn't have the heart to drown me now, because we were in the same wreck... And with no land in sight.

So I turned the liquid over on my tongue and felt it slip in with a bitter trail of medicine.

"Now you only need to take the second dose." She muttered, getting back to preparing something quickly.

"The antidote?"

She paused for a second to lift her eyes to mine in hurried silence, probably trying to mentally stab me.

"It wasn't poison."

"The sages used to say that everything had the potential to be poisonous" I watched her fumble with the liquids.

"It depends on the dose."

She handed me the second one.

"And you're raising mine?" I took the glass, mesmerized by her insistence.

She shrugged.

"I don't believe in homeopathy."

So I surrendered and let the liquid in through my smile.

• • • ֍ • • •

After I didn't die, I straightened out the Hasta route to the nearest world and watched Donecea sit in the broken co-pilot chair beside me as if it were hers. I hadn't fixed it so far for a reason.

I got up and went to the other area, where I came across her black notebook, full of answers, open on my bed and begging me to read her every word. I flipped through it, looking for the recipe for that medicine or anything related to fevinos... But I couldn't find anything.

I thought about looking through the letters she had hidden so quickly, but then I heard behind me:

"Did you really think I was going to give it all up that easy?" I dropped the notebook as if it were on fire and turned to be hit by Donecea's smile, approaching with dangerous confidence. "It's not the notebook you have to open to find out what you want."

My eyebrows rose on their own and I couldn't help but to think of all the things about her that could be opened... All the ones I could get into.

"What then?"

Her silence poisoned me more than any medicine could have done and her posture made her somehow bigger than me.

"My mind."

Before I could say anything - as if I had the strength for it - a whistle on the dashboard interrupted us. We had arrived.