Infinita

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Sound requires a medium for its waves to ride, some sort of volume with which to hit sound shores. My cries, deafening as they might've been, had hit a wall of nothing. My throat became hoarse and soon after, blood trickled out of my mouth, mixing and swirling with the fluid in my suit. The only shore my waves hit was that of my own ear canal. Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, save for me. Madness is my medium.

Madness is what breaks the laws of physics.

It doesn’t help that they had me drowning as well. The suit they equipped me with is a rigid one, filled with a breathable liquid similar in density to water. Some sort of perfluorocarbon concoction they wished to test on top of all their other experiments. A guinea pig for the ages—or maybe a goldfish. Something to be measured and poked and prodded. It hurts to breathe, and even more to scream for help; It’s hard to feel satisfied by a good scream when it is so incredibly stifled. By the fluid and by the Nothing. I hope they jot that down for future consideration in product design.

It takes an embarrassing amount of time before I stop the wailing. It’s in the silence, however, that I finally take in the surroundings offered to me. I was left with at the very least one kindness: They dropped me in the middle of a nebula.

I had read once that certain shrimp can see a plethora of colors that we will never be able to see, since we only have a fraction of the photoreceptors they have. Perhaps the Madness has already overtaken me, but I feel like a tiny shrimp stuck in a can in the middle of an unforgiving ocean. With all the horror that implies, I am luckily afforded the colors before me, the closest thing to a shrimp’s day-to-day.

The gasses around me swirl into mosaics of a billion color palettes, all shimmering in a marvelous synchronization. Clouds bigger than our Sun and wider than our Solar System envelop the space around me, convincing me for a second that I am in someone’s heaven. They take up different shapes, and as rigid as the suit might be, I am compelled to swim through the deities. I decide to swim as a frog does, and despite all my knowledge of motion telling me I will not go in any other direction other than the way I was pushed, my swimming technique works. And so I move. Ever so slightly deviated from where I was headed anyway, but at least now it’s partially my choice.

It seems that the different gasses of the nebula are just about dense enough to allow me some momentum. I swim through a mountain the size of Earth, and at its edge I seem to fly over a deep and wide valley where I’m sure that millions of lightyears into it, a nursery of burgeoning stars is glimmering, almost dancing before my eyes. Maybe there are planets in that nursery. It’s too young. On one of the outer stars. Maybe. Maybe it has a neighbor planet like our Jupiter protecting it. One of its moons. Maybe it’s in just the right spot, and maybe it’s tectonic plates have settled just enough. Maybe Amino acids are bonding and forming life as we speak. Maybe life is already there, thriving. Maybe I can be saved. I just have to swim there. What’s millions of lightyears? I swam varsity in High school. No, I didn’t. I wonder how Julie’s doing. Or Alondra. Benny.

Intrusive thoughts, close friends of Madness.

“Diana.”

I hear my name enveloped in radio static as I float over the infinite valley. Madness gets creative with each passing skepticism.

“Diana, can you hear me?” Static chirps float between each word.

How long had it been until I stopped screaming? Since I’ve started swimming? I begin to realize just how long it would take to traverse through a mountain of gas the size of Earth. Days or years or seconds have passed and I had not heard a voice this clear until then. My lips opened, and I was painfully reminded of what I was breathing.

“It’s OK. I can read your lips.”

My mouth remained agape, confused and juvenile. I felt as though I was learning to speak again.

“Are you my sanity?” I mouthed, half joking. “Is this goodbye?”

“No,” she said as she chuckled. “I’m a friend.”

I processed the word friend as I stared directly forward, at the other end of the chasm. It was narrower than I think; I was about halfway from reaching the gas.

“Do you see what I see?” I ask.

“Yes.” She let the static run, as if wanting to say more. Eventually, it cut off.

“Alondra would’ve gotten a kick out of this,” I said through a smile. “She’s a big fan of tightrope walkers. Is it ok if I smile while I mouth my words?”

“Yes, a software is translating everything you’re saying through extensive facial recognition. Who is Alondra?”

By then a creeping dread snuck up under me, as floating over the chasm had started to lose its wonder. I started swimming again as a poor attempt to get to the gas edge. It’s all empty space, but at least the gas is opaque.

“Alondra is a friend,” I said, with a hint of spite. “Who are you, really?”

I didn’t get a reply for a long time. I finally got to the edge of the chasm, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. There is no solid surface here, no gravity I can fall towards. More emptiness, despite its appearance. My arms gave up and I turned around to see the emptiness above me. Rather, behind me. There was brief respite from the color as I gazed off into the abyss of cosmos. Stars littered the void and I couldn’t help but imagine myself as a photon, desperate for my trajectory to collide with something. God, please. Something.

“Reading’s show there’s a planet not far from here.”

The static chirp returned with a surprise, and I awoke from my daydream.

“Where?” I said.

“Go in the direction you are staring, Diana,” The static chirped. “There is a planet there that absorbs most of the light that reaches it. You can’t see it, but it is there.”

“How long will that take?,” my suspicions grew and grew. “It doesn’t matter how much light it absorbs, if it were close enough I’d see it.”

“You’re right. It is a ways away. But don’t worry. You’ll make it”

“How?”

White noise permeated my helmet for a while. I realized sound traveled as if it were air in my helmet, and yet I am submerged in an unknown fluid. What type of suit had they equipped me with? What was their objective?

“Your suit will help you get there in mere moments, Diana.” More white noise.

“Would you please stop being so cryptic? What does that mean? Is this suit rocket powered? How?”

“No, but you do have air capsules to move yourself with.”

I noticed for the first time my hands. I pressed them against my helmet and saw the pores each palm was equipped with. Would’ve come in handy to know earlier, lady.

“OK, well, I’ll never get there with an air cannon on each of my palms.”

She chuckled. “Your suit is special. Think of it as frictionless, but instead of in space, it is frictionless in time. It dilates time around you, allowing you to exceed speeds of light without even noticing.”

What?!

“This is unheard of. Theoretical—”

“-New, is all, Diana.”

“No. No, this can’t be safe—”

“As opposed to remaining stranded inside a nebula, Diana?”

My eyes wouldn’t allow me to veer away from the void she was telling me to dive in. Pure black with speckled color, in the direction of a hell planet devoid of light.

“I was lied to,” I said, furious. It was actually hard to convey my anger inside the fluid, but perhaps facial recognition will pick up on it. “I was meant to be a doctor.”

“‘Somewhere new and exciting, studying new biologies and mending old wounds’,” she teased, quoting the offer I was given. “‘A chance to be one of Humanity’s best’. Yes, sorry about that. We couldn’t necessarily offer the truth.”

I had wondered why they wanted an M.D. fresh out of residency, with so many established names looking to make the same leap into the universe. I didn’t look too hard and nobody I knew thought anything of it. We were all prepared to make a hero out of me. They read the same offer I did. An offer straight out of a comic book. It tugged at something inside of me and suddenly the offers I had to teach and to study and to heal from all over the world were so insignificant. What did it matter, teaching at the most prestigious institutions on some backwater when I could go to Amaia? Or to Oronu or even somewhere close like Europa? I became a doctor to heal people, and yet how quickly I gave in to a half-assed Call To Adventure. Madness.

Madness is what breaks the will of Humanity.

“What is the truth, then?” I demanded.

Another chuckle. “‘Are you prepared for a Journey into Adventure?!’” She shouted into my ear, unable to control her laughter as if this were all a prank and she was embarrassed to laugh about it. “Sorry, sorry. My apologies. The truth is complicated. I will tell you in due time. We’ll be spending a lot of time together, Diana.”

I floated in silence. I began to wonder if I could even float, when there was nothing to float on or in. I was not floating, maybe. I was. I was, in silence.

“For now, you should start going to this planet. There are resources you need there. I will be here with you.”

“What makes you think I want you here?” I asked. “You’ve lied, and you’ve left me.”

“I lied, it’s true,” she replied. “But I have not left you. I apologize for being— er— crass, earlier, but you have to believe that what we are doing here is insurmountably important. You might not be mending wounds, save perhaps your own, but you will learn. You will be humanity’s best.”

I bit my lip. My hands shook inside the large gloves and my feet curled. By this point, all I wanted was something solid. Something to grasp. A hand. A hug. A pencil or a room. A planet. I did not want to rely on the voice with static chirps, but I didn’t have a choice.

“Can you give me your name, at least?” I finally mouthed.

The static runs for a moment. It felt like hesitance. “My name is Idalia. Spread your fingers and stretch them. The air should go forth. You’ll reach the planet in moments.”

Against all instinct, I did as Idalia said. I tensed my arms pointing them in the same direction as my feet. Afterwards, I spread my fingers, stretching them out as much as I could. The vapor shot forth and I was propelled into the void. For whatever time dilation technology helped me to go faster than what practical physics deemed possible, I felt completely fine. I did not feel impossibly fast, and yet when I looked behind me, the infinite valley I had just crossed was made infinitesimal by the distance I had covered in the short amount of time since propelling forth. The nebula was still a sight which enveloped my entire rear, and while careful to keep in the same direction, I turned my body to see the nebula slowly retreat as the cosmos appeared to eat it, and swallow it, into a smaller version of itself. I couldn’t keep my eyes away.

“Careful to not miss your trajectory,” Idalia suggested. “You’ll be there soon.”

“This is incredible.”

“Not all bad, right?”

My lips pursed again. “Perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to give you any credit.”

“This will be a remarkable adventure, Diana. I assure you.”

I tried to sigh, and the pain reminded me of my coffin.

“Why am I submerged, Idalia?” I asked. “More product research?”

“Since you are in a liquid, any momentum or G-force experienced will be distributed equally throughout the suit. In short, you will experience less G’s. You are also breathing it, and it lasts longer than normal oxygenation. And I never said this was product research.”

“What is all this, then?”

Static. “Product research is partially a reason, sure, what with all this new tech, but it’s hardly the main reason we are here. This would be a rather expensive prototype test, if so.”

“I am here, Idalia. Not you.”

Idalia forgot to turn off her radio before sighing.

“Right.”

I turned around back to the direction I was heading towards, and in the distance I saw nothing. Too much nothing. The stars I was used to seeing before had disappeared, leaving me with more void ahead. Although, that is strange.

“You’re nearing it,” she said in anticipation. “The planet should be ahead of you soon.”

“And I can just land?” I asked. “What about when I need to leave? How will I escape its atmosphere, or gravity well?

“Remember, Diana. In this suit, you are in essence, operating within the realm of four dimensions. You can go anywhere, within reason.”

“Within reason? None of this is hardly reasonable as it is.”

“Watch out, landing might be disorienting.”

I hardly noticed I reached not only the planet, but its atmosphere, before almost landing head first. My screech was stifled by the fluid yet again. Without doing anything, however, the suit reoriented itself to land on my feet. Another perk of the suit, I guess.

Since the suit was already standing and ready, I decided to fully orient myself. After doing a quick self check-up, I took in my surroundings. The planet was not as dark as it appeared from outside its atmosphere, but even then it was dark. The rocky island I landed upon was the color of obsidian, with clouds a deep, deep, purple. I appeared to be surrounded by an ocean, pitch black save for soft reflections of starlight on some of the bigger waves. In the far distance, I saw a gigantic moon the color of a deep, voidlike blue. I felt embarrassed when I finally noticed there was no sun or revolving stars close to this planet. A planet alone in the universe, devoid of light. The void if it were given volume.

The void occupying itself.

The static turned on again. “Welcome to Thanatos. The midnight planet.”

“Wow,” I replied. “Cool name.”

“Right?” She said, betraying usual cool demeanor with excitement. “Came up with it myself.”

“Figured.” I tried to take a step, but the suit didn’t allow me to move. I tried a few more times, groaning and heaving, but the suit was resolute in its stillness. “Hey, the suit’s not letting me move around?”

“It’s too heavy. It’s meant for zero gravity. Here.”

At her cue, the suit made a bell-like sound and the interior began to glow in different colors. The liquid then started to slowly recede.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m draining the liquid into a storage unit so that you don’t spill any of it when you get off the suit.”

“Excuse me?!” I started to panic. “What are you talking about?”

“Get out of the suit, Diana. Explore.”

The liquid line reached my eyes.

“Can I even breathe here?!”

“It reads similar to Earth’s atmosphere, that's why I directed you here.”

“Life doesn’t DO well with ‘similar’!”

“Get out of the suit, Diana, trust me.”

“No! You’ve given me no reason to trust you!”

The liquid level reached my mouth. My nose sputters as the liquid shoots out from inside my nostrils.

“STOP!” I mouthed between sputters.

My helmet is completely drained. I ejected the rest of the liquid from my lungs, forcefully and painfully. I try to take a breath when I realize I can’t. My eyes bulged in fear and asphyxiation.

“The suit is vacuum sealed, there is no air in there,” Idalia shouted in my ear. The static chirped wildly with each word she said.

“You have to get out of the suit, DIANA!”

I shook my head as I died in my coffin. As I had thought before, I had given in to my madness after all. None of this was ever real, was it? I am back in the nebula, I am starved and dehydrated and dying. I have made all of this up. I have made Idalia up.

Intrusive thoughts, best friend of Madness.

Madness teases Death like an old lover.

“Diana, please. I don’t want to have to do this. Let it be your choice.”

Idalia’s voice felt real as my eyelids grew heavy. My vision blurred. My mouth and nostrils tried so hard to grasp for something, anything, and yet nothing received their pull. Idalia was a vile and cruel act against me by my imagination.

As my vision darkened, the suit buckled. The planet’s air started gushing in a sharp hiss. The suit opened wide, and I fell onto Thanatos.