There is a trail of bodies in the wake of The Infinity, and every one of them is watching me.
At night they enclose the ship, peering in through the portholes. Every dead astronaut – skin bleached white from radiation and leaking drops of greasy, iridescent cooling fluid from their nostrils – follows me when I sleep. They peer around corners, run their shrivelled fingers down my spine. When they touch me, their desiccated flesh crumbles into dust, coating me in layers of sticky, ancient corpses.
The astronauts all hate me for doing what they couldn’t and surviving. They whisper my name, shuddering, groaning, telling me that my parents’ failure is my failure, that I’m cursed because they couldn’t save them.
The dead crew of The Infinity gather together in clusters, forming a writhing ball of bodies, limbs entwined. They whisper threats in the vacuum of space. They grab on to the outside of the ship, trying to block the signal to the transmitter and cut off my messages from J.
The ghosts of The Infinity want me alone, so I have to pay attention to them. They want to crawl inside my head and inhabit my worst fears.
Dad’s death was the first punishment. One day they are going to kill me too.
When the lights finally come on, I pull myself to my feet and stagger into the kitchen. I carefully don’t think about how clammy and cold my pyjamas feel, how my cheeks are sore with salt. I get changed, wishing desperately that this was a shower day.
I fall onto my bunk, staring up at the ceiling as I force down a cereal bar and try desperately not to close my eyes again.
From: The Infinity Sent: 18/11/2067
To: The Eternity Predicted date of receipt: 25/11/2067
J,
I’ve been dreaming more recently. I imagine the astronauts clinging to the outside of the ship. I know that logically there are no corpses in space – my dad put the bodies of the astronauts in body bags and froze them until the liquid evaporated. Then they were vibrated until they shattered into dust, in a kind of space cremation.
There are no corpses following me. If there’s anything to be scared of, it’s not their bodies. Those are just dust, hidden away in the stores.
But I keep dreaming about the astronauts, more and more. The same nightmares I’ve been having my whole life. I can’t stop myself, however much I try.
I don’t know why they scare me so much. I don’t know why their memory just won’t leave me in peace.
I hope I stop dreaming after you arrive. I hope that when I’m not alone any more, my brain will be less determined to scare me in any way that it can.
R xx
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
90
I’m finally getting used to the hours of darkness. I’ve got a bowl under my bunk for emergencies, and a charger for my torch, plus two spares. As long as I make sure not to open my eyes, then the lack of light doesn’t trigger another panic attack. It isn’t so bad.
I’ve also memorized all of J’s emails, so during the black hours I can whisper them to myself, going over everything he’s ever said to me, from the first “Dear Commander Silvers” to “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only thing in my life that I can depend on”.
I’ve saved so much energy from the extra four hours a day I’ve been sitting in the darkness. Energy that will go to the lights and computers.
I won’t let this ship fall apart around me.
I can still hear the scratching outside the ship. There’s something out there. It’s trying to get in.
I follow the noise around the ship moving from room to room and listening as it scrambles across the outside hull. I’m certain that it peers into portholes when I’m not looking, trying to find a weak spot to get inside.
It’s never going to stop trying. It works at the seals on the airlock, nails digging into the rubber to force it open.
I hope that J gets here before it manages to find a way in.
DAYS UNTIL THE ETERNITY ARRIVES:
82
From: The Eternity Sent: 05/12/2067
To: The Infinity Received: 05/12/2067
Attachment: audio-subsystem.exe [13 MB]
I have some exciting news for you, Romy! Now there’s only a few months until we can meet in person, The Eternity is currently slowing down to allow it to match The Infinity’s speed when the ships meet, so they will be able to connect.
That means the ships are finally close enough for us to audio chat! You just need to install the software I’ve attached, and it’ll let us talk via audio. There will be a little time lag between replies, but it should be quite short – less than a minute, now we’re so close. It’s worth giving it a go, anyway, right? Sadly we’re not quite close enough for video chat yet, but we should be able to do that soon.
Is it OK if I call you tonight at 7 p.m.? If it isn’t, just don’t answer. But I hope you do. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. I haven’t been able to think about anything but speaking to you. I can’t wait to hear your voice.
J xx
My heart jumps into my throat and refuses to move. We can talk on the phone. We can talk on the phone.
J is calling me tonight!
I install the software he’s sent me, which is a subsystem NASA mustn’t have thought worth installing. There have never been any other ships to talk to before now.
I try to stay busy for the next five hours, but I keep finding myself daydreaming, gazing off into space and imagining what J might sound like. When I read his emails, I’ve always just heard Jayden’s voice in my head.
I decide to take my shower a few days early. I know J won’t be able to see me, but I want to feel clean. I want to feel ready. I need something to boost my confidence.
By seven o’clock, I’m so nervous and excited that my hands are trembling. I sit at the helm, staring expectantly at the screen.
As soon as the words INCOMING CALL appear, I panic. What do I say? Do I even remember how to speak? I can’t remember the last time I spoke aloud.
I swallow back my fear and reach out to click ACCEPT.
The ringing stops, and there’s a moment of silence.
“Hello?” a deep voice says, testing.
I close my eyes and picture Jayden: dark curls and sparkling eyes with lines around them from smiling.
“J,” I say, ever so softly.
After a delay of twenty seconds – enough time for me to gather my thoughts but less time than I was expecting, considering the distance – I receive a reply. “Romy?”
I pull in a tight inhale. “I’m here.”
My mind fuzzes while I wait for his response. I can’t focus on anything but the timer on the screen, counting the seconds since our call started. It’s hard to believe this is really happening.
“Romy. It’s so damn good to hear your voice.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Y–you too.”
His voice is stronger than I expected. I was imagining soft, gentle, emotional – like his emails. But the voice in my head was Jayden’s. It was never going to be accurate.