Project Eternum 3

The cabin was dark, too dark to see, but Don could still tell Diana's eyes looked hollow. She was scared of it, that experiment, subdued though that fear may be. He could feel her tremble at the thought that it might not be over, they might only have been lucky up to this point.

Could they really know for sure that there was zero chance of a deformity manifesting in the future?

Don pulled her in for a tight hug. He didn't feel their relationship to be anywhere near intimate enough to kiss her on the lips yet, but he considered it. He would let her decide when to advance their relationship to that point.

For the moment, he would hold her. There wasn't much he could do to assuage her existential terror, but this couldn't hurt.

Truth be told, he was a tad concerned of such an eventuality himself. Not to the point of dread or nervousness, he trusted those who planned this all out. They wouldn't pin all their hopes on a pair of people who's bodies would kill them prematurely would they?

Would they?

The tiniest morsel of a doubt remained.

It wasn't the doubt that they had purposefully taken a risk, but that they might have unwittingly missed something. Maybe Don's lack of feeling for the rest of humanity's annihilation could have been a part of that.

Something important might have been unintentionally removed from his or her biology that they couldn't have noticed because they weren't looking for it, an alteration seeming benign on the surface but with some serious ramifications down the line.

He knew for certain THAT was in the realm of possibility.

The question was whether or not he was better off telling her that. On the one hand, it could serve to reduce her dread of a torturous future, but on the other it might just validate her fears.

A mental breakdown wasn't exactly something they were equipped to deal with at the moment.

At some point, he started moving his right arm down from the bottom of her neck to her pajama covered back in a stroking motion, 'shh'-ing and rocking her slowly. Unwittingly, he began to comfort her as he would a child, lulling her exhausted and straining mind asleep.

Soon, his sore body would follow suit.

- - - - - - - - - -

*thunk*

"FUCK!"

*clang*

Donovan shook his hand like mad, jumping around in a little circle. Once the pain subsided (the bump would not) he moved to pick up his sword again.

"You seem to be much more distracted today than usual Donovan. I take it there's a reason for this." The Captain sheathed his own sword and gestured towards a bench that had been brought out to the deck for them, the sign to sit down.

"Yeah. Last night I learned a something a little bit more than disturbing and I haven't been able to get it off of my mind." Don took a moment to analyze his finger upon sitting down. There wasn't too much swelling, the Captain's sword only having made contact just below a knuckle, and there wasn't any signs of a break. "I'm sorry if it its detracting from our lessons."

"Don't be. Whatever it is, I assume it must be of great importance." The Captain took a seat next to him. There wasn't much of a view, but the canopy at least made sure it wasn't completely devoid of color. "If it would help you at all, you may confide in me. What issues are plaguing your mind?"

The Captain's sword was in its scabbard, the tip on the deck, while he held the handle with both hands straight up and down between his legs. It was eerily similar to how the Doctor held his cane when Don consulted and consoled with him.

"As much as I'd like to say it's nothing much, my people's attempt at playing God doesn't exactly qualify as small stuff." He reminisced at the objectively horrifying descriptions of 'failure' Project Eternum produced. "Namely, how that attempt at godhood might get me killed."

"You have gods? I was under the impression there wasn't enough split in your world for them to manifest."

That was a bombshell, one Don vowed he would address later.

"Uh, kind of? They didn't really exist, at least we don't think so. It was really more a reference to the fact that my people were trying to do something that was so far out of their capability it may as well have been reserved for a supreme existence. Does that make sense?"

There were some big words in there, he couldn't guarantee the Captain knew them all.

"I think I understand. They tried to do something along the lines of turning lead into gold right?"

Lead into gold? Was he talking about that old story? Something about a rock?

"Yeah. Something along those lines."

Donovan didn't dare tell him that turning lead into gold was something that could, and had, been done before. It wasn't profitable of course, the resale price of gold did not cover the energy cost the particle accelerator required to make that gold, but it could be done.

"Would you mind telling me what it was they tried to accomplish? I am fine if you leave out the specifics."

"They, uh, they tried to alter life." There was no way the Captain knew about genetics, much less understood how it worked. "It wasn't too successful."

"How so?"

"Out of 105 tries, only two children lived to tell the tale?" Should he be saying this? He trusted the Captain to keep it confidential, but should he even know about it in the first place?

"That seems fairly successful for something you consider taboo."

"Maybe, but those children might experience, er, *problems* later in life."

"Problems?" The Captain didn't have a clue what that might entail. He let his mind drift off imagining what a *problem* might mean, so the hidden intent didn't click immediately.

Don was perfectly content to watch on and catch his breath.

"'-later in life.'" There it was. "Donovan, don't tell me..."

All he could do was nod.