Story by Charles Hawkmoon. Translation VictorX.
This short story is part of the Science Fiction Storm series. All stories in this series are inspired by randomized prompts, ensuring that each tale is unpredictable and utterly unique. Here are the random seeds for this story:
Fish – foam – advertise (ad) – step – edge -fasten – blind – movie.
Jaak fastened the line for the celestial hook onto the edge of his shield. His heavy breathing inside the suit was all he could hear. The fear of deep space, of the void, clouded his thoughts. This step was critical. He needed to calculate the jump perfectly. Something was wrong with the airflow and temperature inside the suit, which also fogged his visor, leaving him nearly blind.
His life had always been monotonous, devoid of major thrills. Everything was predictable for someone born within the confines of a space rock. But now, he felt his heart racing, like he was inside a movie. It wasn’t a good feeling.
“Hello? Anyone there? Captain? Mirna? Alpha?”
Nothing.
Not even the damn robot was answering…
Standing there would solve nothing. And his oxygen gauge continued to drop. How much time did he have? Ten minutes? Maybe less, given his quickening breath.
“Well, here goes nothing!” he said, hoping someone could hear him.
Jaak aimed straight at the white sphere surrounded by the vast darkness. He bent his legs and jumped.
Twenty minutes ago, Jaak had been with Mirna and Alpha on one of the rocket’s mid-levels. Despite the boredom, everything had been just fine…
Jaak was tall and thin, without significant muscle mass. He had Nordic ancestry and had spent his entire life on a station with low gravity and no sunlight. Morphic fabrics were very popular, allowing someone to own only two or three pieces of clothing that could change shape and color. Jaak had seen a movie where the heroine wore a yellow jumpsuit with black stripes. The ad tag in the movie offered the mod file, which he promptly applied to his own suit.
“Jaak, can you dim the light on your suit? It’s hurting my eyes.”
“Don’t nag, Mirna. I bought this skin from the latest Vilma Kacharque movie.”
His crewmate rolled her eyes. She couldn’t stand those action movies with no romance or plot depth.
“If I may say so, Mr. Jaak, the skin looks quite good; it complements the color of your hair,” remarked Alpha.
“Shut up, Alpha,” Mirna muttered, disliking the synthetic’s eager tone.
“There’s no point in being rude to me; I don’t take offense,” the green-hued robot replied. Equipped with a photosynthesis motor, Alpha wasn’t a living being capable of reproduction, yet biological components powered its energy maintenance functions.
“What’s biting you, Mirna?”
“Oh, since when do you buy flashy skins from movies?”
Jaak shrugged. The small Latina with almond-shaped eyes watched him for a moment.
“Don’t you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
Indeed, he felt something odd.
“The ship’s inhibitor is malfunctioning. Or is it just me?”
Jaak paused for a moment, carefully studying Mirna’s face. There was indeed something… something different. She was… she was… beautiful.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asked, moving a bit closer.
“Your eyes…” she murmured, stepping closer as well.
Something burned within them both—a sensation to which they weren’t accustomed. Attraction. Passion. They kissed intensely, as though it were their first time.
“What are you two doing?” Alpha asked.
The pair ignored him completely. Mirna unzipped Jaak’s suit and peeled off the yellow fabric like a banana.
“I can see what you two are doing! I must say it’s against regulations for crew members to engage in… hey, stop that, are you listening?”
Jaak and Mirna felt alive, utterly overtaken by desire. They made love in the ship’s mess hall, oblivious to the synthetic’s protests.
“I’ve warned you! I’m reporting this to the captain immediately,” was the last thing they heard the synthetic say.
The inhibitor helped crew members make long journeys safely, preventing conflicts and tensions; however, its action was gradual, taking weeks to reach full potency. The reverse process also took weeks to return the crew to normal. The effects of suddenly shutting down the inhibitor were unpredictable.
Shortly afterward, the pair climaxed. They were sweaty, wearing only their magnetic slippers.
“That was insane!” Jaak gasped.
“Tell me about it…”
Then a crash reverberated through the ship’s structure.
“What was that?” Mirna asked.
“No idea. You check engineering; I’ll go find the captain.”
“Put something on!”
“There’s no time!”
When Jaak reached the cockpit, he found Alpha on the ground, convulsing. Greenish foam oozed from its mouth and one of its eyes.
“Alpha! What happened?”
The synthetic trembled, and a different voice spoke: “Recovery routine executing.”
A relentless beep caught Jaak’s attention. On the main screen, a leak alert flashed in capital letters. A chill ran down his spine, and he raced to the suit room. He donned the suit, already feeling the ship’s internal temperature dropping. All the other suits were still there.
“Mirna! Captain! Can you hear me?” he shouted.
He continued toward engineering, but the hallway was sealed. Through the circular glass visor, he saw that a fire had broken out. There was only one way through—outside.
Once outside the ship, Jaak was met with another surprise. The entire stern had separated from the rest of the vessel and was slowly drifting away. The white sphere containing the water, air, and fuel reserves was receding.
If I stay here, I’m dead…
After the jump, he floated through space, unsure if he was headed in the right direction. Anxiously, he listened to the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.
Damn, damn, damn!
His leg struck something, causing him to spin. He saw the metal mast and tried to grab it, but failed. Yet the line attached to his shield caught on, and he exhaled in relief, reeling himself in like a fish on a line. He followed the mast until he reached the ship’s stern. Using manual levers, he opened the hatch. Once inside, he triggered the compression commands. Relieved, he removed his helmet and took a deep breath.
Spacewalking is definitely not for me!
The door to the life-support module opened, and Jaak floated inside. The artificial gravity was no longer functioning. He caught a terrible smell.
Burned plastic mixed with barbecue? What the hell, someone got fried!
Then he lost his breath at the sight of Mirna’s lifeless body, slowly spinning in the next chamber. A massive hole gaped in her chest… Jaak vomited instantly, and bits of food floated around in all directions.
No, Mirna! No! I’ve never had anyone, and now…
Jaak heard the whine of a detonator rifle and pushed himself hard against the wall, launching to the opposite side as the shot exploded nearby, melting the wall panels.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard!”
The captain’s face was red, his eyes gleaming with hate and madness. Though over eighty, he still retained a hint of youth and vigor from his days on the Venusian front. The gun’s hum grew as it recharged.
“Are you insane, Captain?”
“This is all your fault! I had to kill her because of you!”
Jaak slammed into the wall but didn’t fully cushion the impact, yet he pushed off again, successfully floating toward the airlock. The captain fired again but missed, advancing frantically in a zigzag to reach Jaak.
The blonde man donned his helmet once more, clutching his shield. Designed to shield against strong lights, it absorbed the captain’s blast. Jaak launched himself at him, but instead of hitting him, he activated the panel to close the airlock door. Without waiting for the process to complete, he opened the hatch. The air sucked both men outside, but Jaak was anchored by his hook. The captain doubled over, freezing instantly, and floated lifelessly away from the ship.
The survivor returned inside, shocked and still unsure of what had happened.
“Mr. Jaak, can you hear me?” came Alpha’s voice over the comm.
“Yes…”
“I witnessed everything that happened. I’ve already sent a distress signal.”
“Damn, Alpha. What the hell happened?”
“A disastrous situation, Mr. Jaak. Without a doubt.”