Merrion sat atop Edmund's queen-sized bed, her legs crossed and her communicator in hand. She scrolled through the list of notifications she had been ignoring since the final meeting with Zora earlier in the day. More spam messages, religious outreach materials, a message from her apartment manager informing her about the damages to her unit and estimated repair costs, alongside an unreasonably quick deadline for payment.
Merrion: "Heartless bastards – "
She muttered under her breath and sighed softly, wishing that she could just fall asleep and wake with everything just having been a bad dream. It was about eight o'clock now, and if today had just been a normal day on the job, Merrion would be at the café and talking with Maria. The café staff might be bringing out the birthday cake right now, and they'd be singing a celebratory song …
Thinking about the what ifs did nothing to assuage Merrion's worries. She was assigned to this current case, and it would go against her pride as a member of General Investigations to let this distract her from the current mission. If nothing else, she wanted to prove to herself that she was worthy and capable of her current position.
She also wanted to prove that to Edmund, too.
Merrion: "Hey, Edmund?"
---
Edmund reclined lazily atop his sleeping bag, his hands beneath his head serving as a pillow. He stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking every few seconds. He wasn't asleep, although he was tired. He wanted to wait till he was absolutely exhausted before he would lie down and swiftly fall asleep. Until that time approached, he would simply relax. Normally, he would bask in the silence and solitude that he enjoyed by living alone. But now, he wasn't alone. For the first time in a long time, there was someone else here with him. Merrion had just asked him a question. It wouldn't be right if he simply ignored her. Besides, –
Edmund (thinking): She would disapprove if I ignored her.
Edmund: "Yeah? What's up?"
Merrion: "Can I ask you something…personal?"
Edmund: "I can't guarantee an answer if it's too personal, but I'll still try though."
A brief silence descended, then –
Merrion: "Do you trust me?"
Edmund sat up from his reclined position. Of all the possible questions, this wasn't one that he had expected. He pulled himself off his sleeping bag and faced Merrion. Her green eyes met his own amber eyes, as if she were trying to get the answer out from his expression instead of from his words, which were nowhere to be heard at the moment.
Edmund: "Why do you say that?"
Edmund knew that this wasn't an answer. However, that Merrion felt like this was the case even after a year of being under his mentorship and asked him in spite of her deferential tendencies meant that this was an issue that he needed to address at its roots. It also helped that Edmund already knew his answer to her question, and that it wasn't an outright yes.
---
Merrion steeled herself to give her honest opinion. Whether Edmund's answer was a yes or a no, if he had asked her that same question, she would undoubtedly say yes. Her honesty would be the way that she would show him that she trusted him.
Merrion: "Remember when I was first posted here, about a year ago? When Inspector Zora first assigned me to be under your care. I still remember that face of yours. You were really scary back then."
Edmund: "Can't help it. I can't get a refund on these genes even if I knew where they came from."
Merrion: "Even so, you accompanied me on all of the investigations for the first few months. You showed me how to interrogate, how to persuade, and how to get the job done."
Edmund: "And you did your investigations well. You did good as a Junior Detective. So, isn't that the answer to –"
Merrion: "B – but –"
Merrion suddenly stammered out her objection to Edmund's statement, taking the both of them by surprise. A quick gesture from Edmund signalled Merrion to continue her train of thought.
Merrion: "None of those investigations were regarding anything as severe as this current one."
Merrion sighed and drooped her head, ever so slightly, before she continued.
Merrion: "I feel like – like I'm out of my league, you know. When that thug snarled at me in the cargo terminal, if you hadn't been there, I might have just panicked and shot him. While it isn't just about that, I – I just feel like compared to you and to the Inspector, I'm not good enough to be here. You handled that situation, and that other gang captain situation in a way that I don't feel like I could, or ever could. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, do you trust me to be useful? If the situation were reversed, would you trust me to be there for you? Because, if I were you, I - I don't think I would."
Edmund sighed.
---
Edmund had been tensed ever since Merrion said that she'd felt unqualified to be involved in the investigation due to her lack of prior severe case experience. Hearing Merrion unload this concern of hers to him made him realize that even though he'd been her mentor for the last year, even though he should have done his best to anticipate and assuage these worries and anxieties as a senior member of the department and helped her to be a better and more competent member of General Investigations, that he hadn't done that.
Instead, he'd been protecting her.
That singular thought allowed Edmund to relax; the knot of tension he felt growing whilst he took in Merrion's concerns coming undone.
Edmund sighed. To Merrion, it sounded like a sigh of reassurance.
But to Edmund, it was a sigh of relief.
He was keeping his promise to her.
---
Edmund: "Is that what you were worried about? No doubt, you are fresh out of the Academy. In terms of sheer experience, you'd need several decades at minimum to match even your immediate senior, let alone me."
Merrion saw Edmund lean back and relax his tensed shoulders.
Merrion (thinking): If he was taking this easy, perhaps my concerns were unfounded?
A throaty chuckle pulled Merrion's focus back from her thoughts.
Edmund: "And forget about that damned Zora. You'd need to be a psychopath to be able to match her. With you being how you are, you'd never want to descend to her level even if you could. So, you're probably better off not using her as a barometer for your progress as a Detective."
Merrion: "Is – is she that bad? She's treated me well ever since I arrived, though."
Edmund: "Oh, you don't know the half of it. She's only become like this recently. When I first met her, she kicked me across a room. That was one hell of a first impression."
Merrion stared with eyes widened upon hearing Edmund's tale. She felt extremely lucky that getting punted by her boss didn't happen to her. Hopefully if she never screwed up massively, she'd never need to experience that herself.
Edmund: "Anyway, don't fret too much about not have experience. I've seen your personnel file. You've got the skills to succeed here. All you need now is to persevere through the challenges of our job and the experience will naturally follow. Besides, not all of our cases are like this one. Most are as you've seen, low-risk and low-stakes. Cases like this are rare."
Edmund lay back down on his thing.
Edmund: "As for your question, it's my duty to be there for and protect you as your mentor, regardless of whether you're useful or not to me. But I suppose it would be nice if you were. So that's that then."
Edmund's answer to Merrion's question left her with a strange feeling. She knew what her records said, after all she'd been the one who sent them in. She was never the best in her class, but her skills were always adequate. Theoreticals, practicals, all those aspects of her training were always adequate but never exceptional. Even other exotic skills taught to her in her earlier years were only ever adequate at best. Being adequate was part of who she was.
Yes, Merrion was no one special. She knew this. Ever since she was a child, she always knew there was nothing special about herself. That was part of who she was and why she was currently here instead of elsewhere.
There were only two aspects that, were she required to tell others were exceptional about herself, she could do so honestly and proudly.
She could react to and persevere through anything.
And if persevering through challenges was what she needed to do to prove herself worthy of being a member of the General Investigators, then she was willing to do just that.
Merrion: "Thanks, Edmund. I – I needed that; I think."
Edmund: "Feel better now?"
Edmund's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, though his thoughts continued to wander.
Merrion: "Yeah, I guess. The shower really freshened me up. Glad I got all the dirt and grime off from that run in the cargo terminal."
Edmund: "Good to hear that." Edmund gave a perfunctory nod.
A short silence. Merrion let out a small chuckle to herself.
Merrion (thinking): I guess he doesn't really spend too much time with people like this,
This was a side of him she never really saw since most of their interactions were strictly professional.
Merrion: "So, uh…do you do this sort of thing often? You know, one-on-one, just yourself and another. Like right now."
Edmund: "In my apartment? Can't say I have. Not recently at least. Things have been busier recently. Today was supposed to be my rest day, but then..."
Merrion: "Ah, that's right."
Edmund: "Yup."
The earlier conversation between Merrion and Edmund was so heartfelt compared to their current interaction, that making small talk like this felt artificial and forced to Merrion. It wasn't like she was deliberately trying to make it awkward though. She had realized through their earlier talk that Edmund had some hidden kindness within him, buried beneath that gruff exterior.
She wanted to learn more about her mentor. Her mind churned with unanswered questions and eventually settled on one that she had come up with earlier.
Merrion: "What are you sleeping on?"
Merrion (thinking): Ah, that garnered a reaction
She saw Edmund sit up, with a look of bemusement on his face. He looked down to the thing, then back to her.
Edmund: "You – you've never seen a sleeping bag before?"
Merrion: "A sleeping what?" Merrion looked at Edmund quizzically. That word was a first to her. To her, a bag was just something she put things into. She watched as Edmund blinked, as if trying to process what he had just heard, before chuckling to himself.
Merrion: "Hey! What's so funny?"
Edmund: "No – it's just that –"
Edmund's chuckling tapered away; his expression morphing into a quiet smile.
Edmund: "Yeah, guess it's not that strange after all, that you wouldn't have ever seen a sleeping bag before. Alright, so, a sleeping bag is a bag, that you sleep inside."
Merrion: "Really?!"
Merrion replied, half sincere, half sarcastic. The sass in her tone was obvious to Edmund.
Edmund: "Hey, if you're going to give me that attitude you shouldn't have asked in the first place."
Edmund lay back down but continued looking at her on the side. Now it was Merrion's turn to chuckle.
Merrion: "Ha ha ha! No really, I didn't know that! Why would you have one though?"
Edmund: "Hmm…Have you been on the lifeships?"
Merrion thought long and hard. The lifeships were the largest vessels in the Fleet and were located at the centre of each sector. Each lifeship consisted of two side-by-side rotating drums connected at their ends to the longer ends of a cross, with a long section and a short section. The short sections of the crosses at the front and back were connected by a similarly long, but narrower cylindrical section, making the lifeships look like someone had bolted together two colossal cylinders and two comparatively narrower cylinders at the ends.
Unlike the larger ships, with their rotating drums utilized in a maximally utilitarian fashion and crowded with people, the lifeships were instead sculpted to resemble naturally occurring landscapes from location that the Fleet had been to in the past. Mountains jutting out towards the center of rotation, rivers whose source waters were pumped from their ends in artificial lakes back up to where they began in the mountains, carefully maintained savannah and grasslands with trees, rocky cliffs, and stormy oceans, all inhabited by all sorts of exotic flora and fauna. The colossal drums of the lifeships, each a hundred kilometers in diameter and over five thousand kilometers in length, contained a myriad of such sculpted landscapes, serving as an ecological reservoir for the Fleet to utilize in seeding terraformed systems. At the same time, they were open to the people of the Fleet to visit and remember where they had originally come from.
"No, I've never been there."
Edmund: "Well, I used to go rather regularly. I would visit the 8th Sector's lifeship about twice a year and go camping."
Merrion had never heard of camping before. She had no mental conception of anything that could be called camping, and her expression of absolute bafflement was clear for Edmund to see, who continued to explain.
Edmund: "Camping is when you go out to the lifeships and bring with you all the supplies you need to stay there for a day-night cycle. Sometimes you bring more so you can stay for longer."
"Why?"
Edmund: "Why go camping?"
Edmund thought for a while.
Edmund: "I guess…I liked how there was no one around. And getting to experience what life back on a planet is like. Even day and night, you can't see the other side of the drum because of all the clouds inside. It's honestly a rather strange feeling. But I…I kind of liked it."
Merrion liked how Edmund was perking up when he was talking about camping. Finally, he was opening up to her, and seeing this side of him only made her curiosity grow. She remembered the photo album, with the many photos of wide-open spaces and darkened skies unlike the interior of any ship she had ever seen and realized that those photos were probably taken aboard the lifeships.
Merrion (thinking): Then, who was she?
Edmund: "She?"
Merrion gasped, realising that she had said out her thoughts without even realising it.
Merrion: "Erm, well, erm –"
She stammered nervously, eyes flicking over to the photo album without even realising it. However, Edmund caught on, and he traced her gaze from her eyes to where they were focused on: the photo album, which had been moved ever so slightly from where it was previously placed.
Edmund: "So, you saw it."
Edmund leaned over from atop the sleeping bag to grab the album with an outstretched hand, bringing it over and opening it up.
Merrion: "…yeah, I took a quick look through earlier while you were showering. Sorry for not asking first."
Edmund replied to Merrion's apology with silence, merely flipping the pages of the album slowly. Merrion saw Edmund's eyes slowly glide up and down, presumably looking at each photo before flipping the page and seeing the other photos. She watched as his eyes grew wistful, and the slight smile she had seen earlier reappeared on his face.
Merrion (thinking): She must have been important to him.
There was a strange pang of nostalgia within Merrion as a name popped into her head. Before she could even realize it, she had already said it.
---
Edmund blinked slowly, overwhelmed by a feeling of surprise at Merrion's words. It wasn't that she had said some stranger's name right out of the blue that surprised him. Rather –
Edmund: "What?"
Merrion: "Oh! Erm, I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, that name just came to me!"
The flustered expression on Merrion's face, coupled with her nervous chuckle, told Edmund that she really hadn't said it on purpose. So, then why did she –
Edmund: "That's her name. The woman you saw in the album. With me. How did you know her name?"
Had he said her name to Merrion before? No, that couldn't be. He'd never talked to Merrion like this before, not about his own personal matters. It wasn't that he was adverse to it, but more that there was never such a chance to do so, nor a need or a reason to. Talking about this issue to Merrion wouldn't change or improve the situation in any way for him.
After all, no matter how he had felt at the start, she wasn't to blame.
---
Merrion searched her memories. Why did she say that name? As far as she could remember, she didn't know anyone personally who went by that name. She must have heard it before. But from where?
Another pang of recollection came to her. Her first day with the Department, back when she had first met Edmund. Back when he was just a gruff-sounding and exhausted-looking man.
"…Sleep deprived. I won't die. Haah…been looking for –
…
– for Camelia."
Merrion: "I think you said her name back when we first met in Inspector Zora's office. I dreamt about it earlier today when I…fell asleep on your shoulder…in the tram." Once again, Merrion was sure that her cheeks were going red with embarrassment. To have shown such an uncouth side of herself to her mentor, and not just once but twice in a day, truly filled her with embarrassment.
Edmund: "Is that so? Hmm…"
Edmund continued to talk; his eyes still fixated on the album.
Edmund: "Well, she – we…used to go camping together all the time. My sleeping bag was a gift, from her."
Merrion: "Sounds like she was a very important person to you."
Edmund closed the album and looked up, his eyes meeting Merrion's. She saw, in the instant where his eyes locked on to hers, a change from his earlier wistful expression into a determined one, as if the words he was going to say were a vow he was making to himself.
Edmund: "She is."
Merrion: "If you don't mind me asking, where is she now?"
Edmund: "She left around a year ago, just disappeared into the ether on one fine day. I've tried to find her, but as you can see, I've nothing to show for it."
Merrion: "...I'm sorry. That she left."
A deep sorrow settled over Edmund's expression in response to her platitude.
Merrion (thinking): Did…did I say something wrong?
Merrion anxiously waited for Edmund to respond, perhaps with anger or maybe disappointment? She didn't know what went on inside his mind, but she could only hope that platitudes weren't a trigger point for him. She hadn't said it with that intent, but intent could only go so far. Merrion knew that through personal experience.
---
Edmund: "Don't be. It's not your fault that she's gone."
Edmund relaxed his face. He was showing a side of himself that he shouldn't be. He wasn't being a good mentor to her. Even in this setting, he was resolved to be professional with Merrion. She was his pupil, his colleague and now, his partner on this investigation. There was no space for him, almost a century her senior, to indulge in petty emotion about an issue that happened almost a year ago.
Everyone who had known about it had told him the same thing, just worded in different ways. He should be moving on. Why was he so devoted? There are others out there. One of them had even told him earlier to go find another and get over this hang-up, as he had so eloquently put it.
They didn't understand. No one understood him. It was through no fault of their own that they didn't.
However, she did. Somehow, she always did. It was addicting. She always knew exactly what he was thinking. Around her, he was an open book with pages on full display. And ever since she vanished, he had felt…incomplete. It was like she was his hand, with which he could read the book that was himself. It was like a part of him that understood himself had died.
Even now, he was incomplete. He didn't want to dwell on that thought for longer. If he were incomplete as he was, how could he hope to complete anything? He couldn't let this weakness show, not to the world. And certainly, not to Merrion. They had a case to investigate, after all.
Edmund: "It's…it's getting late. We should sleep soon. Tomorrow's going to be a long day, I can feel it."
Merrion: "Oh, ok. I understand, the older you get the more sleep you need."
Edmund: "Shut up, youngster. I'm not that old. Give me another two centuries atop this first one, and then maybe we'll see."
As Merrion settled down atop the mattress, Edmund walked over to the lighting controls and toggled them to the night setting. The lights in the room slowly dimmed until they were off altogether. Only the dim light coming from the exterior environment of the Agnes provided the barest modicum of illumination within the apartment, which would only become visible once the eyes adapted fully to the dimness. Edmund, long familiar with his apartment layout, made his way over to his sleeping bag and lay down atop the fabric.
Merrion: "Good night, Edmund."
Edmund: "Good night, Merrion. Don't fall off the bed."
Merrion: "I won't. My bed is half this size."
…
Merrion: "Ed – Edmund? He's asleep already? So fast…"
---
That night, he dreamt again. Or perhaps calling it a dream wasn't accurate. The talk with the girl earlier had prodded his mind, freed from the limits of logic and sanity within this dreamscape, to recall a memory from a year ago.
The light coming in from the exterior was already dimming in accordance with the prescribed day-night cycles. It was just that late. When he opened the apartment door and only complete silence greeted him, he knew there was something wrong.
Today would have been like any other. He would arrive back home from his workplace, and she'd be there, waiting for him. She loved to cook, so often when he did come home, she was already whipping together something quick and nutritious using the cookware that she bought. He didn't cook regularly until she came into his life. He knew how to, but never needed to, not with the marketplace providing affordable and relatively nutritious fare.
The silence in the apartment was akin to that of a grave. He called out, hoping that maybe she was in the toilet or maybe she had fallen asleep while waiting for him, but there was no response at all.
He turned on the lights, illuminating his apartment kept clean from clutter and dust by her fastidious nature. Everything was untouched as he had seen it in the morning. Nothing was out of place, not even the –
A single anomaly caught his keen eye, a lone recorder chit placed atop the table at the front of the room.
He walked over and picked it up. The sensors within the device registered the stimuli that they were programmed to recognize, and a familiar voice started to speak with the tell-tale distortion of recorded audio.
Recording: "Hey, Edmund. If you've picked up this chit, it means that something's happened, and I've needed to go. Whatever it is, it probably has something to do with my past. Please don't come and find me, it's for your own good."
There was a long pause in the speaker's voice, and only the continued static from background noise let him know that the recording was still ongoing.
Recording: "I'm…I'm grateful for the time we spent together. These few years have been the happiest of my life. I'm glad I met you. You…you're different, in a good way. I could tell that the moment I saw you. I…I'll miss you greatly."
There was yet another long pause in the recording. Through the crackle of background static, he heard what sounded like faint sniffles and a deep inhalation. The voice returned, this time sounding hardened and more resolute compared to the heightened level of emotion from earlier.
Recording: "There's…someone named Merrion. I can't tell you how or why I know this, but just know that she is important to me in a way that is equal to your importance to me…I know it's selfish of me to make this request, but please…please help to protect her. For me. Please."
The man was clenching his fist so tightly that his forearms were starting to creak from the stress. His eyes felt hot and wet, but no tears were flowing. He was saddened by this unfair request, but even so, he still continued to listen. The message was not yet over.
Recording: "I'm sorry…about many things. I'm sorry…that I couldn't let you know earlier…that I've made this unfair request to you. I know you might never forgive me, and that's fine. But if nothing else, please promise me that you'll protect her. Curse me if you must; hate me if it'll make it hurt less, but just…protect her. Help her live a life free from struggle and suffering. I…don't deserve that, not after all the things I've done, but I believe that she does."
The man could never curse her, nor hate her. He couldn't help but feel that this person, this "Merrion" he was being so unfairly asked to protect, was the reason why she was leaving. The man's vision blurred as a single tear fell from his eyes, splashed upon the recorder chit and splattered into salty droplets. The recorder chit, waterproof in design, played the final seconds recorded upon its solid-state circuitry encased in the transparent housing.
Recording: "I…I love you, Edmund. I'm sorry for leaving like this. You…you deserved better. Camelia Ingvash, out."
With that, the message ended, plunging the apartment into a deep silence, and the man's heart into a deep sorrow that would haunt his dreams for a long time to come.