Echoes

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.

So they say…

I’d like them to explain the eerie screech echoing through my helmet right now.

It started two minutes ago and sounds like… Torture. Like some kind of monster set on fire. Only it’s not coming through the radio. We’re ten-thousand miles above Titan, we shouldn’t be able to hear much other than our own breathing and the static of any interference.

I turn to Will and meet the bright gleam of his visor. His face is hidden beneath, but I can tell he’s looking back at me. “You hear it too?” I call over the comms.

“Yeah, but what the hell is it?”

“Hear what?” Comes Andrew’s voice, comfortable as he is with the others inside the Mayflower.

Will turns to the hull. “You don’t hear it in there?”

Alice scoffs into her radio. “You two are being paranoid. Just change the fuses and get back in here.”

“It’s not paranoia!” I protest, nearly throwing my toolbox into the ether, “Something’s screaming.”

I hear Steven sigh, and probably roll his eyes. “Sound doesn’t travel in a vacuum, Rose. Now, this mission is more important than your nerves, so get it done.”

His harsh tone begs a reply. But I know better than to get into a shouting match while I’m hanging on in orbit, funny as his accent may be. I gesture to Will with the box, and we move in to the maintenance panel. The toolbox opens at the press of a button, spreading apart into three small levels with all the needed parts. I take the electric screwdriver.

No sooner than when I press it against the screw does a louder roar come across, shaking the station and leaving a deafened ring in my ears. After sound fades back into the droning screech, I let out a dry chuckle. “I know you felt that one.”

“Yes…” Steven starts with an abnormal unease. “The fuses can wait. Come back to the airlock and we’ll resume in a few hours.”

I shake my head, replacing the screwdriver and letting the kit shut once again. Will has already started back along the rungs towards the airlock, and I follow suit, outpacing him to not fall behind. A few steps on, I glance up just in time to keep from running into his boots. “Why’d you stop?” I ask.

He points out from the station. “Look.”

I rear my head over. Against the sparkling bloom of the sun, black shadows dance like hummingbirds chasing each other. “What’s that?”

“I don’t know...” He says, watching the spectacle for a few moments. “But I don’t like it. Let’s get inside.”

I continue with him as we scale the side. Another thunderous roar shakes the Mayflower, and I throw my arms around the ladder, sending the kit off into the void.

“Shit!” Comes the blur above me as Will kicks off to grab it.

I relax my grip. “Don’t! Just leave it, we need to get back in the station!”

“We can’t waste our tools.” He says as he glides up to the box and comes to a stop with his maneuvering unit. Grabbing it by the handle, he turns around and waves it back at me confidently.

I roll my eyes. “Very impressive. Now get back here!”

“Relax,” He moans, letting a short jet burst propel him towards the station. “A few seconds now saves us a headache later.”

I respond with a shake of my head as he grabs on to the ladder again, and we continue climbing. The sound of another screech sends a shudder through the craft, and I tighten my grip to keep hold.

“What the hell is—” Screams Alice before being cut off by a static 'kzzt'. A moment later, the lights flicker and die, leaving nothing but the sun illuminating the area. I glance over my shoulder and see the shattered debris of one of our solar arrays before turning to Will. He's staring at the damage, either mesmerized or shocked by it.

I try my comms again, pressing the manual feed button on my wrist. “Mayflower, what’s the situation?” No response, and none of the usual feedback. The lights are dead, the radio’s dead, but… Why?

From the corner of my eye, I see Will point past the ship. But before I can turn, the loudest roar yet rattles the station, knocking my hand away. As I float aside, I catch a glimpse as a large shadow casts itself over us. Some massive creature slithers from its hiding place behind the ship. A bright blue charge builds on its nose before bursting out and flying at us. It smashes the other end, throwing the ship at my legs and sending me into a radical spin.

A light feeling fights to take over with each rotation, even more than the building nausea. The last thing I see is a glimpse of something spilling from Will’s helmet.

Then, darkness.

_________ _________

I wake in an orange haze, still spinning but not as fast. Controlling my breath, I frantically look around to figure out where I am. The fog clears to reveal soil and rocks below, approaching fast.

A frightened half-yell jumps from my throat before I grab the handles and activate my maneuvering unit. I haphazardly stabilize myself, but the ground’s still coming too quickly. I desperately put it to max thrust, wincing my eyes shut as I brace for impact. After several seconds, my feet are ripped from under me and I’m sent into a spin again. To protect my visor, I throw my arms around the front of my helmet. I hit the ground a few more times before smashing my hip against a rock and tumbling to a stop on my back.

Nearly hyperventilating now, I let my arms fall to my sides and stare up at the dull orange sky above. The realization finally dawns on me: we’ve – or at least I have – crashed into Titan.

I roll to my side and stagger onto one leg. As I try to put my other foot down, I let out a yelp, hopping around to keep from collapsing. The adrenaline gives way to the pain from the fall, and I hold the tears only because I can’t afford to have them in my helmet.

In front of me, a large object glides through the clouds. It’s the Mayflower with all radial thrusters on full blast. It fails to come to a stop in time, kicking up a plume of dust into the area of the crash.

I shakily raise a thumb to where it landed, looking first with my right eye and then with my left. At least ten miles.

“Dammit!” I exclaim, drawing a slow breath which is cut short by a pained chuckle. “Murphy’s law…”