Sure, the doc said that it wasn’t my fault, what happened to you… well the translator guy said that the doc said that. How the hell do I know what the doc really said? You didn’t trust the guy… translator guy, not the doc.

Aeryn… the doc may say that I’m not responsible ‘cause of the thing Scorpy put in my head, but I don’t believe it. Of course it’s my fault. It’s my fault I let the damn thing take over my head. It’s my fault that I didn’t fight hard enough, that I didn’t regain control in time to save you.

It would have been so much easier if I hadn’t regained that control, if the neural clone was still in control. I wouldn’t be feeling like this, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t be feeling the guilt, the knowledge that I caused your death. The guilt that almost makes me wish that I could die. I’m ready to get this damn chip out, but only because I haven’t the heart to tell our friends not to bother, that I’m not worth it. They’ve lost too much already. It doesn’t matter to me if the doc can’t get this thing out without killing me. Not anymore. It would be better for all if I were dead.

Then again, if the neural clone was still in control I wouldn’t be here. I’d be on my way to Scorpy’s Command carrier, and your death would have been for nothing. No guilt, but that’s small comfort. I’d rather be dead than in his control.

Why didn’t I accept the help you were offering? Why did I think I could handle it alone? Or was it listening to you what weakened my mental defences enough for Harvey to take control? I don’t know, everything’s a blur. I don’t know anything anymore. Too many questions, no way of getting any answers.

It doesn’t matter anymore, Aeryn. You’re gone and I’m responsible, no matter what anybody says. I’ll never get to tell you how much I care about you, how much I love you. I should’ve said that a long time ago, but the timing was never right, what with princesses, Scorpy, and a universe that’s out to get us.

But it was more than just bad timing. You were a major part of my silence. Emotions were new to you—well learning to accept and deal with them was—and I didn’t want to spook you, or push you. I tried, Lord knows I tried to let you know how I felt without pushing you, but even then I failed. One kiss and you backed off: “I won’t be a slave to your hormones!” you said. My reply could have been better: “Hey, I was lips, you were tongue!”