The air conditioning hummed quietly in the background. A soft clicking from ancient electricals. Bursts of static interupted the soft melodies on the radio that neither was listening to. Anemic moonlight bathed everything in a pale blue coldness that made it clearer than day. A small animal scurried under the wood of the porch. She was warm against him. Shaped to a perfect fit for his arms it seemed. Soft and sweetly scented.
Sometimes they'd ask if he'd ever forget. He never remembered the names after a while, just the smell of their skin and the taste of their lips. He held tight knowing he'd never want any more than this from life, wanting to take her into the house and never leave. A whispered promise never to be proven. A lingering kiss, stroking the soft skin of her face. He'd walked away then, unable to speak, tears held in his eyes that threatened to drown and a lump in his throat that threatened to choke.
He looked down on the planet from the station, nursing a whiskey that was going to cool if he left it much longer. He'd called eventually, wanting to see her, wanting that night again. She didn't want to talk, maybe it was easier that way, he hoped it was easier for her anyways. Standing here back then he'd listened to that far away voice fade. An authorative rap on the door cut short the soothing tones. Tomorrow he'd be immortal. A pod pilot able to roam the stars forever. He'd always wanted this. Live forever. Travel anywhere thought could take him. Now he realised the only thing he hadn't done in life was all he wanted. He had went the next day, sold his soul for the Federation. Heard news of her funeral many years later, vague bits of information travelling his way of their own accord. He didn't want to live forever, one night is all anybody ever needed. A quiet tapping at the door broke the melancholy spell. He didn't turn to see the visitor.
"The ship and crew are ready, Sir"
"Good. they'll need to be."
The door clicks shut as he drains the glass of its liquid. A quiet hum of station noise, broken by static from down the clinical halls. Flouresent lighting bathes everything in a pale blue coldness that made it clearer than day. He held himself for a moment feeling a chill in the controlled heat. Tonight people would end up in clones. He was going to make sure that when they did they would want their mortality. Maybe it wasn't too late for some to die. He seen the long serving pilots in the stations, eyes black and soulless. Nothing to die for anymore. They weren't living, just killing time. He started for the door, remembering how he walked away. The only one he couldn't forget, the one who never asked. It didn't matter what he felt now, but just that he still felt inside. This would be a good nights hunting. He could feel it.
