Chapter 110: There is a Kind of Person

Cillin put on the isolation gown the medical staff handed to him and walked into the ICU.

It was only after entering the room that Cillin realised that Enji only had a pair of hands now. The other two were gone. Enji was already thin in the first place, and now he felt even more like a skeleton hanging on to the thread of life and death.

The medical staff had told Cillin earlier that Enji’s injuries were too serious, and his genotype was not up to par. Even if they prolonged his life as much as possible with the machines, he would not last more than two days. The biggest factor, however, was because Enji possessed no will to live.

Cillin walked beside Enji and sat down, leaning closer to hear closely to Enji’s words. Enji could hardly even breathe now, and every word he formed took him a lot of energy. However, even though Enji’s words were slow and soft, his pronunciation was very clear.

“Bring… me… the… journal…”

“I’ll get it right away!”

Cillin got up and ran out quickly. Naturally, he knew exactly which journal Enji was referring to. It didn’t take him long before he presented Chamonidine’s journal to Enji.

“The… last… page…”

Cillin flipped to the last page of the journal. There were a lot of blank pages in between, but there were words on the last page. It was a poem.

Enji looked towards a direction. There was a cabinet outside the room, and it was filled with some of the items the patients took with them when they were sent into the ICU. Among them was Cillin’s small toolbox.

Cillin took the toolbox into the room. The medical staff tried to sterilise the toolbox, but Enji waved his hands and said, “It’s fine!”

When Cillin raised the toolbox to Enji, he raised his hands and grabbed it tightly. Caressing the toolbox gently, he opened it and swiped his finger once on a small square inside the toolbox. Once it was unlocked, Enji took out a key from inside the small space. It was the key to Enji’s workshop. There were very few people who did not use digital code door locks on this ship.

Enji passed the key to Cillin and placed it on his palm. He could not feel at ease if the things inside his workshop were left to anyone else but Cillin. Enji thought that Cillin was the only one who understood how precious the things inside his workshop were.

Since he had taken off the life support apparatus on his head, Enji’s breathing had become extremely difficult. Cillin wanted to put it back onto his head, but was turned down by Enji, “If I wear this… I won’t be able to hear them.”

Enji caught his breath and pointed at the journal, saying, “I remember that you are from Sector X. Do you know the Sector language of Sector X?”

Cillin nodded.

Enji’s eyes smiled, “It’s been a long time since I heard Sector X’s language. Please read me the poem at the back of the journal with Sector X’s Sector language, will you?”

When Enji said this, his tone was almost flat. Cillin felt that Enji was using the last of his energy to speak. But somehow, his eyes were bright as if he had seen the distant stars.

Chamonidine was originally someone from Sector X just like Cillin, and his former dream was to become a free poet. Later on, Chamonidine’s home was affected by war, and it was then he encountered the Third B Squadron’s commander Nata. He was then introduced in the Third B Squadron by Nata and became a member of the Third Squad. But even after he had become a part of the Third B Squadron, Chamonidine still often wrote poems, and every journal and diary he owned more or less had a couple of poems in them.

Back then, Enji and a few people in the Third Squad had often listened to Chamonidine reading his poems with standard Sector X’s Sector language.

However, those people had all perished in that incident back then. The only reason Enji was saved from that catastrophe was because he was transferred to the Sixth Squad prior to it. But if Enji had a choice, he would rather turn into cosmic dust like them.

By an Octopus human’s standards, Enji was only at a third of the average lifespan. However, he was already satisfied with his life.

Cillin sat beside Enji’s sickbed and turned to the last page of the journal. Then, he began to read slowly.

“Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!

Bird thou never wert,

That from Heaven, or near it,

Pourest thy full heart

In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

Higher still and higher

From the earth thou springest

Like a cloud of fire;

The blue deep thou wingest,

And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.

In the golden lightning

Of the sunken sun,

O’er which clouds are bright’ning,

Thou dost float and run;

Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.

The pale purple even

Melts around thy flight;

Like a star of Heaven,

In the broad day-light

Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight,

Keen as are the arrows

Of that silver sphere,

Whose intense lamp narrows

In the white dawn clear

Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.

…”

He spoke with the perfect dialect of Sector X’s Sector language. The medical staff did not understand it, since they were not from Sector X. They only needed to know GAL language for space travel, and they used to think that any other languages that were not native or GAL were difficult and awkward. But when they listened to Cillin’s voice now, they had a feeling that was like a gentle breeze sweeping across a sandy land, rolling up dust and carrying it straight towards the blue horizon.

The light in Enji’s eyes was very gentle. It’s as if he had met an old friend after many years.

Enji’s genotype rank wasn’t high. An octopus human’s average genotype rank was rank C, but Enji’s genotype rank was only at rank D. It might be because he was exposed to too much radiation. Moreover, Enji was pitifully thin as compared to the average healthy octopus human. Perhaps the happiest days of Enji’s life were when Chamonidine had led him across the galaxy.

I see. It has been almost fifty years already…

“…

As, when night is bare,

From one lonely cloud

The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflow’d…”

When he was finished reading, Cillin closed the journal, stared at Enji, who had closed his eyes with a smile on his lips, and bowed.

“Godspeed.”

The heart rate monitor indicated that his heartbeat had already stopped.

Ba Dao was standing outside Enji’s sickroom when Cillin came out. There was no telling how long he had been there.

Ba Dao felt like he did not understand Cillin. Ever since Cillin came to this floor, whether he was seeing Beaver, Eudy and the others inside the ICU, Dias who had escaped critical condition but lost an arm, or Enji who had just passed away, the man was frighteningly calm. Just what exactly what he thinking on the inside?

Ba Dao did not think that Cillin was a heartless man. But in comparison to Cary or Xiao Shang, Cillin was so calm that it made his blood ran cold. His face was indecipherable, but somehow his eyes caused Ba Dao to feel an impulse to shrink away. Ba Dao remembered something his seniors told him: There is a kind of person who looks no different from normal when their emotions had reached a level of extremity. They had told him to avoid provoking someone like him, or he wouldn’t even know what killed him.

“Cillin…” Ba Dao wanted to say something, but he couldn’t form a word after speaking Cillin’s name.

“How is Eudy and Beaver doing?” Cillin asked. His voice was so calm that not a trace of emotion could be heard.

“The medical staff said that they’re improving. They only need to endure the next two days, but they’re completely on their own. The staff can’t do anything to help since the medicine may cause some adverse side effects. Unless it is absolutely essential, no one dares to medicate carelessly.”

Cillin nodded and walked over to Eudy’s and Beaver’s ICU for a look. Dough was stuck on the screen, and it looked like it hadn’t eaten for several days.

After having a look around, Cillin walked outside.