Into the Silence

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Nobody heard when the Ambaran snuffed out the Aurora. Nobody heard the collapse of three worlds during the Last Wish, and nobody heard my parents scream as I stared at the stars from the escape pod, my back against the cold hull, protecting me from the quiet of space.

I slept in silence, having grown used to the creaking hull as it cooled in space, or expanded as we flew past the nearest star along The Path. The ship jerked, and I shifted beneath the heated fibers of the blanket. Even my parents pounding boots against the metal floors were non-existent as I dreamed of the honey coves we traveled towards in the Armenian Cluster.

My mother’s hand was warm on my cheek, and I opened my eyes to her forced smile, tears on her cheeks, her eyes blue like a new ocean.

“Silas, my love. Get up.”

My eyes drifted shut, but she shook my shoulders, and I jerked awake.

“Mum, what?”

She grabbed my cheeks, locking eyes with me. “Silas it’s time. Do you understand?”

Pulling me to my feet, she grabbed my wrist, and I casually looked around the cabin, the realization of what was happening sinking in, feeling like a nightmare. I was awake, and I didn’t want to be. The orange lights dimmed, surging in brightness, humming in a dreadful silence. Someone was boarding us.

It couldn’t be real.

My father burst into the sleeping cabin, his eyes wide, a long blade in his hand. The crystal edge was dark blue, and at the end, blood collected on the tip, dripping on the floor.

I stared, my eyes opening fully for the first time.

“Dominique, get Silas to the pod.” My father pulled the door lever, and the door slammed shut, the magnetic lock clicking on place.

“Hahn, they didn’t?”

“They did. The Syndicate is here. They know about the cargo.”

“Impossible. Only the Tempest knew our cargo.”

“I don’t know how love, but they know. We’re too far out for the Guild to make it in time.”

My mother turned to me, finding a sincere smile, as I struggled to believe we were under attack.

“Well,” she said. “That no longer is our concern.”

She let me go, and pulled my father close, kissing him deeply on the lips. They whispered under their breaths, foreheads together, and I watched as they struggled to let go. With one last kiss, my mother let him go and guided me into the living quarters. My father looked at me with pride and joy. I didn’t want to leave him; I fought against my mother’s grip. He winked and stood with the sword at the ready, the door closing as my mother keyed away on the control station.

I walked up to her, pulled on the bottom of her tunic.

“You’re not coming with me, are you?”

She grabbed a sword off the wall and kneeled in front of me. “Not this time. We trained for this though. It won’t be any worse than before.”

“But you came for me then.”

“I did.”

“But you won’t this time?”

She struggled to keep her smile. “You won’t be out there forever. I promise.”

My chest tightened, and I didn’t understand then, but I knew my mother’s smile would never be there again, waking me in the mornings, and tucking me into my cot every night.

She touched my cheek, and I leaned into her palm, holding onto her.

The door banged, and I heard the static rip of the long blade. My mother grabbed my hand and guided me down the hallway, into the loft, and pulled the grate up. A hatch hissed as the hydraulic door opened, with a single seat in an escape pod. She guided me down, and handed me her sword, tucking me in, securing an oxygen mask over my face. She pressed several switches on the control panel and closed the security brace on top.

“I love you, Silas.” She brushed my hair back, her touch resonating.

“Mum, don’t leave me.”

“I would never. Just remember my voice, and listen to the stories we tell before bed. Listen until you’re out of that pod.”

“Mum?”

The door banged, and she glanced up with wide eyes. “I have to go.”

“Mum!”

“Remember my voice, love.” She pulled a level.

The hatch closed and pressurized, hissing around my ears. The straps secured me tight, and I could barely lift my head to see her.

My mother grabbed a sword, and she stood in front of the blast door. It jolted open, smoke and sparks blowing across the floor, as the pod lowered further under the floor.

“Mum!”

My mother lurched forward, and the pod ejected.

I felt the rush of inertia propel me from the ship, my arms shaking, my eyes jolting awake. Pipes along the hull rushed outside the tiny window and then stars, and the vacuum of space. My chest hardened, and I wiped my eyes, unable to keep the tears from falling on my cheek.

I could barely see my parents’ ship as the pod barreled through the void. I closed my eyes and listened to her voice.

A time ago, among the red and orange moons, the light shined upon the shadows. This is when a mother picked up her baby boy, in the first moments of his life.

It was soothing as I rested alone amongst the stars.

I sat there as the nightmare became my reality. My sobbing grew into screaming, for in that moment, I promised never to speak until my parents’ silence was not in vain, knowing they could not hear me then, or so they said.