Do you think this is fair?

There was only a minute of fuel left in the mechanism. What can you do at the last minute of your life, being in outer space and being an Uzi Doorman? This is exactly the question that Uzi asked herself, doomedly looking at the distant nothingness. In just over an hour, she had already managed to think about a lot: about the strangely speaking corpse, because of which she found herself in such a precarious position; about the lost reward and about the blue lobsters that he planned to try thanks to the teacher. About hunger. She suddenly remembered that she had not eaten since the morning, and it was probably approaching nightfall. Dad always scolded her if she ate too much before bed and didn't brush her teeth. She thought about mommy and the injustice of life: as soon as she achieved something for which mom would be proud of her, she was gone. Is this fair? She also had time to think about other, in her opinion, unfair things that had happened in her life. And about chamomiles, those small white flowers with a yellow core that became extinct many years ago. But before, stupid women tore them to understand whether their boyfriend loved them or not. It would be better to ask the guys, flowers still didn’t know how to tell the truth. Yes, and lies too. They, flowers, as far as she knew, were generally quite taciturn. Uzi spent a full twenty minutes thinking about chamomiles, imagining their smell out of habit. All her life, a worn poster with chamomiles hung above her bedside table, haunting her. What did they smell like? What did they taste like? Were those women shot because of whom they became extinct? What idiot hung this poster over her bedside table and why?.. Yes, Uzi had a lot of thoughts in her head. They would have lasted for another twenty to thirty years, and it was even a little unfortunate that there was only half a minute of fuel left. One of the most modest and weakest thoughts was the penultimate one: what is the probability that right now something like a spaceship will fly by and pick her up? When only a couple of drops remained, something incredible happened - a ship actually appeared right next to the drone. A moment later, neither the ship nor the Uzi were in this part of space. The Doorman's last thought was: "What...?" And then she died. And then she turned into a chamomile. Then into a bed with Soviet-style iron springs. Then - into a stickman. Then back to Uzi Doorman, but with three arms and one leg. And finally, after another series of deformations, she closed her eyes, grabbed her head with both hands and fainted. A friendly female voice was heard above her: — Oh, it looks like we’ve got a new person! Or a robot?.. The level is normal. I repeat, the level is normal. The transformation is complete. If something else bothers you, that's your problem. Please do not worry. They will come for you soon. A man's voice added: — I hope you haven't lost your head, mate. Uzi Doorman sat on the floor for a long time and, swaying, looked at one point, clasping her head in her hands, of which, thank the robo-gods, there were again two. After some time, the door to the cargo compartment opened with a smooth sigh, and red ribbons with a disproportionately large mask of tragedy appeared in front of the hunter. She looked, oddly enough, tired and even depressed. With extreme despondency in the voice ribbons said: — Hands up and follow me. I also consider it necessary to inform you that I am deeply depressed. - She added extremely bleakly and inhospitably - Welcome to the boris of such an amazing place as the “Digital Circus.”