Into the Black

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

I’m not saying I heard a scream when we entered The Black, it was more like my ears were ringing, while all of us held our breath in the command center as Stella ran her diagnostic scans, those seconds stretching out into the unknown. I thought it was tinnitus and I almost reported it to Manon— the ship’s doctor— I wanted to ask if anyone else was experiencing it, but something about it made me want to listen closer.

But it was gone as soon as Stella gave her report, and we all let out a collective breath. I don’t think anyone was afraid, but I knew everyone was feeling some level of apprehension. I could see it on Lachlan’s face from across the room. My father always looked nervous, I inherited that from him, but he also looked determined. He’d worked hard to get us to the Placidus Limit and it finally looked like we’d get there.

So few people come out that far and finding transport is a nightmare, so joining Luke Battersea’s crew was the golden egg we’d hoped for. He didn’t ask questions, but he was very welcoming.

No one can really experience true silence in the vacuum of space, it’s always offset by the familiar mechanical sounds of your ship, the people on it, or your own sounds inside a suit… your breathing, your heartbeat— being grounded planetside is different. An atmosphere and distances unquantifiable to the human mind separate you from that silent void… in space it’s inches of metal or layers of fabric, serving as an incomparable reminder of how easily life can just, stop.

That’s how I felt when we entered the Black, but the trip itself was completely unremarkable.

I dreamt of being underwater, and the details were so clear but I’ve never been in a natural body of water in my nineteen years. Only pools. I can still picture the dream perfectly. Soft sand beneath me, seaweed and kelp flowing around me reminding me of Giaanleen’s hair when she lets it out in Zero-G, but stretching upward, toward the sunlight, high above.

I woke up hungry from that dream, alone in the bunk room, and that was the second time I heard the ringing tone. It felt the same as when you’re missing a word, but you can feel it at the tip of your tongue, and you’re so close to really figuring it out.

But it was gone the second Pascal came back with breakfast.

I asked him to braid my hair like Mama used to and watched that big contagious smile bloom on his face, the one I’m so grateful we share because I can never forget that we both inherited it from our mother. His hands are gentler than hers were, but my memories of her are a decade old, and I was a fidgety child, and I’m still a fidgety adult, but not when my brother is braiding my hair. He has always managed to calm me down.

Pascal told me about The Black a few days before Luke informed us about the assignment he’d received from the Research Starship Cybele, so I had a hunch what it would be about.

The Black was what people were calling an emergent space weather phenomenon that spanned three leaps and had cut off several settlements, research outposts, and mining stations from their sponsors and starships. The vast cloud of space dust was actively causing the most severe communications breakdown in the history of extrasolar expansion. No signals in or out.

Pirates, smugglers, and traffickers were all taking advantage of the situation to mask their movements. Regional officials didn’t have the resources to enforce freezing passage over that large a distance, nor were they about to break protocol to enter the dust, despite early reports that it wasn’t harming any ships. Frequent systems diagnostics were essential and unsanctioned travel was strongly discouraged.

Our destination was a small Gaian-type planet called Alta Solus, named for the massive mountain at the center of its single landmass. It was so tall the top of it looked like it had been precisely sheered off to leave a little space before the atmosphere stopped. The science team there had been reporting technical malfunctions in the days leading up to the blackout. The Cybele had recorded inclement weather that could have damaged the communications tower, but it wasn’t consistent with the scientists’ ground reports, so they were concerned about Pirate activity. Either way, the services of a Rapid Intervention Team were needed, and Luke was up for the call.

Our captain told us if we had reservations we could stay on the Cybele and they would come back to get us, all things going well. I knew Luke was only making that accommodation for us… or well… for Lachlan. The crew would never leave him or Stella.

I remember how that conversation went:

Manon said, “You’d be dead from a splinter without me,” and leaned back in her chair. She was sitting next to Sevanne and August, the security specialists, and they exchanged glances.

August said, “We’re not missing out on possible pirates.”

His wife patted his leg and added, “Pirates or no, none of you know how to operate the support drone properly.”

Gianleen laughed, almost balking at the suggestion. “What would Stella do without me?”

During my second week on board, she’d told me how Luke took a chance on hiring such a young mechanic— she’s twenty-two now, he hired her after she’d just turned twenty— and he’d never once regretted that decision because Stella had never flown better than under her care.

I was surprised by Lachlan’s answer. He was strict about my safety, two months earlier he would have had me stay on Stella if we docked at any stations, but I think the fact that this assignment would put us so much closer to the Placidus Limit was why he was willing to take the risk.

He said, so much more assured than I was used to, “I couldn’t leave you eating cardboard.”

He’d found a little bit of his old self in Stella’s kitchen, I liked seeing him cooking again, I could tell he was proud to see people enjoying his food.

I knew we weren’t officially part of the crew, we had temporary contracts, but we were on that ship living with them for five months, it was impossible not to start feeling like… I guess, feeling like a family. They were all so clearly like family already, and we were the odd ones out, literally family but it hadn’t felt like that in a long time and I owe it to the crew for helping us reconnect, and connecting with us.

Being a part of something felt very grounding, which sounds funny, you know, since we were in space. It was easy to keep busy when I got to spend time with Giaanleen, helping fix things around the ship. I liked to hear her stories, and she always seemed shocked that I was so strong. August called me a bean stock, but he was also the first to help me with strength training after I wandered into the fitness room for the first time. I’ve never seen a bean stock in person so it amused me.

Luke had a running complaint about being the shortest person on the crew, but he’d spent most of his life planetside before going off-world for pilot training. The rest of us spent way more time in artificial gravity— or just had the genetic predisposition for height, as Manon liked to say, usually complimentarily about August and Sevanne, whose statures are unignorably remarkable in height and breadth.

The Carnevals have been married longer than I’ve been alive, and no matter what was going on if you walked into a room that they were both in, it felt like you were intruding on a private moment. It always makes me blush, even being around them one on one, and I’m surprised they never teased me about being flushed. Luke and Manon were different. I didn’t realize they were a couple until we were on board for six weeks because they were so subtle. If I hadn’t seen them dancing together in the command center, seen her card her fingers through his curly silver-streaked hair, I might never have guessed.

Whatever I’d needed at that moment felt starkly irrelevant and I left without interrupting.

I thought about Giaanleen’s hair a lot after that, I thought about Giaanleen a lot in general since I spent a lot of time with her. I’m usually the youngest on any ship so having someone only three years older than me was really refreshing. She called me something like “mera pyar” in Punjabi, and I was oblivious about what it meant until Pascal told me it means “my love” and she was probably making a play on words. He said Emory— my name— sounds like the suffix “amory” which is Anglicized from the Latin “amare” which means “love” and that she was “totally flirting with me”.

I thought he was messing with me, and I had to take his word for it since I have no frame of reference for that kind of thing. Then a few days after that conversation Giaanleen cleaned some grease off my cheek and gave me a little kiss on the mouth when she was done, and it didn’t click until after I’d gone to bed that Pascal was right and she wasn’t just being nice.

Whenever I was alone for more than a few minutes during the thirty hours it took to get to Alta Solus I’d hear the ringing tone again, and it got harder to ignore the closer we got to the planet, especially when I first caught sight of it through the portholes. I’d get lost in the blue and green of it, and now that I think about it, I’m surprised the space dust didn’t really impede visibility, but, we knew it was there because we still couldn’t ping anyone or anything.

I must have spent quite a long time staring out the porthole because Manon passed the room and spoke to me— I don’t remember what she said— and all in a rush the planet was so much larger than when I first looked out. And the sound was gone like it was never there at all.

About an hour before we landed I went to the command center and told Luke I was coming outside with them. I didn’t think Lachlan would make me stay on board because we were all eager to breathe some real air, but I wanted the captain’s approval to support my case anyway. Luke’s back was to me, I think he was going over some final specs and only turned around enough that I could see he was smiling.

He said, “Barring any safety threats, I have no problem with that. I think we’re all eager to feel something organic under our boots.”

Stella was given the most recent data on the planet’s biosphere prior to the blackout and could make calculated analyses from orbit, but we wouldn’t get any accurate readings until we entered the atmosphere. There was no reason to suspect a biological threat, but airing on the side of caution, Stella was going to run a full Human Safety Standards Assessment. The only other concern at that point was the possibility of pirates, but there was barely anywhere to hide and if engaged, no pirate ship could match Stella’s outfit.

I said, “I’m ready to stretch my legs,” and heard him chuckle as I headed down the hall.

The first time I heard him laugh was at the end of my first week on the ship, he and Pascal were talking in the rec room— no idea what about— I just know they seemed to be in good spirits. I remember feeling relieved to hear some energy in Pascal’s voice, he’d been tired and withdrawn for a while before then. I was going to move right on past, but then Luke gave a snort of laughter and Pascal joined him with that contagious belly laugh of his that was so much like Mama’s, who laughed with her whole body too, so I stopped and peeked into the room.

That was always a private delight of mine, witnessing someone’s laughter in its fullest vivacity, shoulders shaking, face scrunched up or lit up. I liked to see what laughter did to someone’s face; tug up their cheeks, broaden their smile, crinkle their eyes— it was really the most beautiful and natural thing about people that I could never get tired of.

I think that’s when I first started to feel at home there, because they made Lachlan laugh too, and that was a rare feat. I’d only ever heard him guffaw over Scottish-Martian comedy specials before then.

I was trying to remember one of the jokes to tell him when that ringing tone came back to me. It was more pronounced then and I slowed my pace, trying to hear it better. But it wasn’t quite like hearing, because it was inside of me and outside of me and going through me and no matter how I turned my head it was no clearer or fainter. That tip-of-your-tongue impression was so strong that I almost felt like I could coax the sound out further, but I didn’t know how to.

Sevanne’s whistling was what brought me back to myself, or apart from. You could always know where she was on the ship because she would be whistling something, a familiar tune, and some I’d never heard before, century-old pop music from before the extrasolar expansion. Right then, though, she was whistling the same strange tone, and it was like all my focus zeroed in on that imitation— and that impression stuck with me, that it was an imitation. But I also felt relieved that I wasn’t alone in hearing the tone.

There was a desperate pull in my belly that made me feel like I was running while I made my way to the ops room. Sevanne was adjusting her tactical vest over her coveralls when I walked in.

I said “What was that?” very brusquely and it surprised her because she stopped whistling.

“What was that,” I repeated, but more softly.

She just told me it was something stuck in her head, that she “figured it was Stella running her extra scans.”

Her guess was wrong, but I didn’t say that, I didn’t know why I knew she was wrong.

I said, “That’s probably right,” because I didn’t think I could articulate what I’d been hearing since we entered the Black.

Sevanne propped her boot up on the bench to strap on her thigh holster. I had come back to myself by then and blushed over how striking she was, standing at one hundred and ninety centimeters tall. It always floored me what a difference of thirteen centimeters made, and five more on top of that if I compared myself to her husband’s height.

She asked, “Are you worried?”

And I nodded even though I wasn’t. I knew how skilled she and August were, and even if there were pirates at the outpost, they wouldn’t be a threat very long.

Before I left she said, “We’ve got it covered, kiddo. No matter the circumstances.” And other people had said similar things to me before, but this felt like a promise, and I really believed her.

When I found Lachlan in the cargo bay before we made our final descent he was dressed in his thermals just like me, which told me he wasn’t going to keep me from going out once we got the all-clear. He seemed a bit distracted though, rubbing his stubbly cheeks while he watched Luke and Giaanleen going over their final checks of the tool cart they’d bring out to fix the comms tower. The Carnevals were ready with the support drone on standby, their weapons strapped to their backs, belts, and thighs.

If anything was bothering him he didn’t say and I didn’t get to ask because Luke began going over the plan again before we were dismissed to our seats.

Going into atmo is always jarring, even when a ship has artificial gravity. I grew up mostly off-world and experiencing gravity on a new planet, or any other space object really can be painful. I’ve heard it can even be deadly if you’ve lived in Zero-G for a long time. I was counting the seconds in my head, feeling that achy heaviness in my body until my thermal support garments finally adjust around me, leaving me relieved to feel the stabilizing compression and joint support they offered.

Despite the roaring rush of landing and once I wasn’t worried about the gravity shift, the ringing tone returned, morphing into something closer to what it sounds like when you’re in a massive crowd and every single person is cheering as loudly as possible. Everything else sounded like it was underwater until my ears popped. It was strange because I wasn’t alone this time, Pascal, Lachlan and Manon were all in their respective seats. I wanted to ask if they heard it too but I knew if I spoke it would disappear and I didn’t want it to disappear.

I was so focused on it that I almost missed the last moments of the landing.

Stella said, “Standby…” and it echoed through the room.

Lachlan got up from his seat and went over to the window. I could see the sky from my seat, not much different than Terra, lightly touched by stratus clouds. I remembered then that Lachlan had mentioned two dinners ago that he wanted to ask the outpost scientists if any of the native plants had culinary value.

Stella gave us her all clear after another moment, followed by the weather, “…eleven degrees Celcius, light winds. This atmosphere contains slightly higher levels of oxygen which may cause dizziness and euphoria. Please report any emergent symptoms to Dr. Wearing… Standby…”

It wasn’t much longer before we got the next report. There were no unsanctioned vessels within range, the outpost shuttle was fully operational, and the comms tower was damaged, but as far as her analysis could tell it was only due to meteorites or large hailstones.

By the time we got down to the cargo bay, I found Luke and Giaanleen playing rock-paper-scissors over who would have to climb the comms tower to make repairs. Giaanleen was losing badly, and laughing more every round Luke indulged until she let out an exclamation and accepted her defeat.

I remember August’s voice coming through our earpieces, calm and assured. “You’re clear for egress, the support drone is en route to you. We’re heading inside.”

Taking my first breath outside the ship was a head rush, it’s easy to forget how stale scrubbed air smells when you’re on a ship long enough. It smelled green, and I made myself a little dizzy from all the deep breaths I took following after Luke.

That was when I got my first good look at the mountain from the ground, and the planet’s name came back to me in a new way. “Alta Solus” meant “tall alone” and it was tall and alone because as far as I could see, there was no plant life that could be considered a tree.

We were walking on what seemed a lot like an alpine tundra, the flora underfoot classifiable as poales, moss and lichen, over rock and compact earth. The elevation obviously didn’t seem right, but why else would a research team be stationed there if not to figure out the why’s and the how’s.

Luke called out, “Stay in visual range!” and I realized I had completely stopped to look at the mountain. Manon was waiting with me and the others had already gone ahead. We both looked behind us, where Lachlan had decided to take a walk in the opposite direction into the grasses. He waved in acknowledgment without turning around.

I was still dizzy when I started after the others and Manon must have noticed because she stepped over to me and we finished the walk to the comms tower arm in arm.

The outpost was very close to the waterfront, and from the comms tower it was only a few dozen meters to a pebbled beach. Pascal was an eager volunteer and got to work with Luke and Giaanleen repairing the tower, which was the tallest structure around besides the outpost’s shuttle and the mountain itself. I was still dizzy after ten minutes and Manon gave me a lozenge to suck on, and I felt it helping while I watched Giaanleen hook herself up to the safety harness and get climbing.

I closed my eyes at some point, listening to the sounds around me, the water lapping at the pebble shore, the rustle of the grass, feeling the wind and warm starshine against my face. It gave me goosebumps.

I realized that something was missing at the same time I began hearing the strange tone again, but now it had a strong sense of direction and I was drawn toward the beach.

The water was blue-green-grey and the stones under the water went out about a meter before I couldn’t see them anymore. I didn’t get all that close though because Sevanne radioed Luke over his earpiece directly— we almost always used open lines— and he called me back over to the tower.

From what I understood, there was no sign of the scientists and no indication of incidence that would explain how they left or where they would have gone. Their all-terrain rover was still stashed in its charging port at the back of the facility, and Stella could only pick up half of the sensors that had been established at key points around the planet.

August and Sevanne joined us at the tower with a handheld antenna and asked me to walk the perimeter with the support drone to extend Stella’s range to see whether the scientists were somehow at another site. Without a satellite assist we could only work with what we had on the ground.

Pascal took over whatever Luke was doing helping Giaanleen with repairs, and I watched Luke and the Carnevals head back to the outpost. The antenna began a simple mechanical chirp once I activated it and I fell into step with the support drone, content to be stretching my legs like I wanted to, and understanding we probably wouldn’t be there much longer.

I remember thinking the support drone looked like a black soccer ball on the grass, which was a combination I had never seen before, but had drawn the comparison anyway.

I don’t know how long I listened to that antenna chirp before I stopped short, realizing what was missing: any kind of native insects or small creatures like newts or frogs. There was nothing and there should have been. And yet as that realization struck me, the luring tone began again from the water– I knew it was from the water.

I’d gone pretty far from the comms tower by then, and I knew while I started walking again that I should radio the others and share my realization, but I didn’t, I just kept going toward the water, even when the support drone complained at me for going off course.

I didn’t stop until I was at the water’s edge, listening to the sound, looking at the water, looking into the water, looking at my reflection. It was long and distorted by ripples. I remember touching my braids, I remember my vision refocusing, I remember thinking of my dream, of being underwater of looking up at the light. The sound was so close, at the tip of my tongue… I remember looking past my reflection at something in the water, I remember the stones shifting ever so slightly.

I thought it might be a fish, I thought maybe there was something alive on this planet after all, it was pale and I could only just make out a little of it. Understanding was just out of my reach, just grazing my fingertips.

I knelt on the stones and tossed the antenna onto the grass behind me, the knees of my coveralls were getting wet but I was trying to see what was in the water.

I thought it was a fish. It wasn’t a fish.

It was a glove. I remember shouting, “I found a glove!”

I reached for it, I stuck my hand into the water. I didn’t grab a glove.

My fingers brushed something cold and smooth and alive.

It reached for me.

━━*━━

The recording ends abruptly, cutting off the sound of Emory’s panicked breathing before she starts to cry. Lachlan swallows thickly, gaze locked on the frozen screen. The camera is uncomfortably close to her face, so close he can see the tears welling in her already bloodshot eyes.

He turns to the uniformed official standing across the room from him behind a wall of plexiglass and clears his throat, the restraints around his wrists catching slightly as he lifts both hands to rub his itchy beard.

Lachlan sighs, his voice hoarse when he speaks.

“That is when the planet started screaming.”

Thank you so much for reading! It is a privilege to share my work this way, and I am always curious about what details leave impressions on my readers. Please feel free to leave a comment. If you enjoyed this piece and would like to support me, please consider leaving a tip.

— Rooney