Story Excerpt - Bon Jovi and Groundhog Day

2057 - 7 and a 1/2 light years from Racë

She was down. The situation was completely different, but Maxwell had pointed that gun at him, again, and Garrett had thrown herself in front of him.

Maxwell hadn’t even stayed to watch the damage he had caused, coward, but if everything went the same as it had yesterday… today… it was only yesterday for him, though the calendar was exactly the same, and future was past, and past was future, and tenses were thrown out of the window, because he hadn’t even noticed before.

Before when Maxwell had shot at him, and Keren hadn’t feel the bullet pierce him, he gave chase, pushed through the gravity-free halls of the space station, and forced Maxwell to carry out the actual plan. The big picture. But it had been useless. It didn’t matter. It was only a thread in the actual big picture, the one he had never been told about.

This time, he would act differently to execute the plan, but he had time, surely. He had time to notice that Garrett was down. And her supposedly tan jumpsuit, beneath all the oil and grime and burns, was staining red far too quickly for Keren’s liking.

Had she done this the day before?

Well, he had noticed. Time to execute his plan. He’d get to Garrett later, the blood wasn’t anywhere vital, she’d be fine.

-

She was down. Again. It was the third day in this awful time-loop nonsense, and he had decided to do nothing, as literally as possible. It didn’t work. He wasn’t suited to staying still. When the clock beeped the time, he couldn’t stay locked in his room, but as soon as the door slid open with the usual hisses and groans of mechanical gears, he found himself being prodded with the barrel of a gun, held by Maxwell.

He did look somewhat confused at Keren’s exasperated sigh, but carried on despite, only for something to pick up on Keren’s register. Footsteps, running, in shoes that had been modified to grip to the surfaces of the station, and other “engineering purposes, not height”. He heard the click of the barrel, the blast of the gun, and the world was a blur of tan and ginger, as she knocked the gun out of Maxwell’s hand before collapsing with the force of the bullet that went through her, lodging into the wall behind him.

And Maxwell fled.

And Garrett was down. She had thrown herself in front of him.

And her supposedly tan jumpsuit, beneath all the oil and grime and burns, was staining red far too quickly for Keren’s liking.

He could get to Garrett later, the blood wasn’t anywhere vital, she’d be fine, but he didn’t have a plan this time, and when he looked closer he realised his mistake. The blood wasn’t anywhere vital, where the bullet had entered. He could see blood splatter on the floor now, and some gathering behind her, floating in the zero-gravity atmosphere.

He hadn’t moved an inch and finally met Garrett’s eyes. He’d seen that look many, many times before. For some reason he’d never expected to see it on Garret’s face.

He didn’t know what to do. He was ordered. He always had a plan, had something to follow when things didn’t go to said plan. He always knew what he was doing. He always knew the big picture. For the first time he would have to do what Garrett always suggested. Instinct, follow your heart, follow your gut.

He didn’t know whether his gut or his heart was leading him, but by the way they both felt like they were twisting into knots and trying to tear themselves apart simultaneously, it was anyone’s guess.

He’d left her to bleed to death. Twice. Alone, unnoticed, abandoned, thankless. Had he even looked back? He thought she’d be fine.

He pushed himself over to her, though his arms wanted to give way, all strength seemed sapped out of them, she was as unnaturally twisted as his heart felt, floating with no control over her own movements. He hesitated only a moment, before holding her, picking her up so that she was lying down, so that she could be comfortable, even as she was shivering. Whether from shock, or that Olga would have been forced to turn the heating down by now, he didn’t know. Maybe both.

He should say something. Comfort her. They were friends after all, weren’t they? His heart twisted again. He would ignore it, the way he always had.

“You fool woman,” Very comforting, “What possessed you?”

She laughed. If you could call it a laugh. It was weak, littered with coughing. Keren realised that his hands were now covered with her blood. Then the ridiculous woman started humming. He didn’t recognise it at all. Never did. She always sang. Apparently even as she died, like she was in some ridiculous musical.

“Shot to the heart, and you’re to blame,” He was about to retort that he didn’t ask her to jump in front of him, that was entirely her own choice, and also from what he could see, that bullet hadn’t gone anywhere near her heart, but the next words stopped him, as her voice faded away,

“Darlin’ you give love a bad name,” She laughed.

Her eyes stopped moving. Lost their shine. She was gone. Again. He followed protocol and let her into space. Quick, not quite a burial, but the best he could do.

-

He asked her about it when the day started again. It took him a while to find her, he hadn’t seen her the three other days until she got herself – no, he wouldn’t think of that. He wouldn’t let her do that, not again. The fool woman.

He found her in the engine rooms, after Pisa, later today he wouldn’t remember Keren’s name, told him in no uncertain terms to try outside, without a space suit. Subject O, who he would hear scream as the humanity he hadn’t known she had would be ripped away from her, had looked him in the eyes and answered only in binary. Doctor Vasquez went on a rant in Kise, more comforting than the whispered prayers he’d heard on day two before the lightening had struck her. Doctor Carter, who would be blown into so many pieces staining his beloved labatory, knew Keren understood Sokkordic and insulted him and several members of his family while completely ignoring him in all over actions.

He didn’t even try the newer ones. Julius, who’d be flattened while watching helplessly, hated him for his sister’s involvement, Chang, who’d be drowned and unable to save herself, always gave him the weirdest looks. Johnson, she would be the cause of everything, was a kid. He refused to even look at Maxwell, and quite frankly Tom and his lot, they almost all would disappear,  gave Keren the creeps, though he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

He'd only found Garret because he remembered that the station juddered at 8:23 every morning the past few days – the past few of his days, none of the others remembered them – and every time Maxwell had blamed a fire in the engines, and fire was Garret’s usual calling card. Maybe if the engines hadn’t been compromised maybe the rest of the events wouldn’t happen, and he could move on to tomorrow. Maybe she wouldn’t die.

He now knew where all the grime and oil had come from that covered her jumpsuit. She was deep in the heart of the mechanics. Something was telling him that treating the engine like an elaborate jungle gym so she could reach a far-away part, that was supposed to be reached from outside, wasn’t strictly protocol, and was even less safe, but it was Garrett. She knew what she was doing. He hoped.

It was a song from almost a decade ago, predictably called “You give love a bad name”. This was also when he found out that she’d hacked company-given technology so that she could play her downloaded Spotify playlists. In space. Seven and a half lightyears away from earth. He was forced to listen to the whole song, and some others by Bon Jovi, such as “Livin’ on a prayer”. Apparently, he needed to learn about Guns’n’Roses as well, and Bryan Adams, though only one of his songs.

Her mum had loved that sort of music, took her to a few concerts as a kid. It always took him a minute to remember that her childhood had been spent travelling through time. He was supposed to know everything about his colleagues, but he had always been accused of being lax when it came to Garrett, for a few different reasons.

It happened again. He thought if they stayed in the engine room, or more rightly, within the engine itself, maybe they wouldn’t be affected by everything else, but her eyes focused, and Keren tried to stop her. He told himself he really did, but she swung around him, launching herself at Maxwell, and using her own body to divert that bullet. Maxwell fled, Garrett was twisted, and he went to her, she didn’t sing this time, but she told him anyway. She loved him. It had been painful, difficult, and sometimes she’d wanted to strangle him, but she knew that he wasn’t all bad. That there was a good heart there somewhere, and again, her eyes darkened even as she asked him to hold her, as it was getting colder, but she still laughed. Said bleeding was the closest she’d felt to rain in space.

And she was gone.

Again.

-

Again

-

Again

-

This loop was never going to end, but each time he got to spend more time with her. The pain was watching her die every time, never even knowing, that she was also loved more than she could understand.

-

It took several more days before he actually did something about it.