The Loneliest Girl in the Universe

by Lauren James

  J lied to me. When he said on our call that he wouldn’t be arriving for a couple of months, he was only a few hours away. He knew. He knew he would be seeing me tonight.

  He was playing with me.

  Yet another game.

  The computer keeps refusing my commands. The Eternity overrides every instruction I give it, initiating safety checks and air equalization procedures until:

  VESSEL CONNECTED SUCCESSFULLY

  AIRLOCK SEAL DECOMPRESSING

  A hot flush shoots across my shoulder blades.

  “DO NOT OPEN THE AIRLOCK. NO. NO!”

  There’s nothing I can do to stop it. The computer won’t let me.

  I run to the airlock. If I’m fast enough, I might be able to disengage it manually. I skid to a halt in front of the lock, just in time to see the outer door slide open.

  A figure is standing in the doorway.

  J and I stare at each other through the glass of the inner door. Behind him I can see the inside of the other ship, glowing with white light, all steel and curving lines.

  He steps forward into the repressurized airlock. The inner door detects his movement and slides smoothly open. J steps on board The Infinity.

  It isn’t the way he looks that surprises me – even though he is nothing like he described, looks nothing like Jayden at all, which I should have realized was just another thing he told me to try and trick me. It’s his eyes. His eyes are victorious. He thinks he’s already won.

  He’s so big. So much bigger than I was expecting. Blond, muscular, stubbled. I tug my nightdress down over my thighs.

  We stare at each other. For too long, neither of us speak. We watch. We wait.

  Then I turn and run.

  I don’t look back, not even to check if he’s following me. I’m fast, I know I’m fast. With a head start, I can outrun him. I know the ship, and he doesn’t. I can lose him.

  I just keep running, running, running. Around the corridor to the other side of the ship, up the ladder to the stores, through the tunnel between the stacks. Some instinct tells me that because I was safe here last time, I’ll be safe here again.

  I can’t think. I can’t even catch my breath for fear.

  I crawl as fast as I can, deep into the bowels of the ship. I can’t hear him behind me, so I must be safe. I must be alone.

  I take a left and a right and another left, weaving between the stacks of supplies into the labyrinth. I clamber up on top of a low pile of packets of lasagne and hit a wall. I’ve reached the centre of the ship. There’s nowhere else for me to go.

  I crawl along over the top of the stack and drop down into a crevice between the boxes and the side of the ship.

  I listen. There’s only silence. I quickly block up the entrance with some containers. Unless you’re looking carefully, you can’t even see there’s a gap here at all. There’s no way he’ll find my hiding place, at least not straight away. I’m safe.

  I crawl away from the entrance until it disappears out of sight around the curve of the ship’s wall, so that if he does find it, he won’t even see me.

  Then I lean back against the steel wall, silent tears dripping from my jaw, barely able to stop myself from crying out loud.

  I’m still shocked by how J looks.

  He’s short.

  He’s older than I’d pictured – definitely not twenty-two, like he claimed. He must be over thirty.

  And he’s gorgeous.

  He has blond hair curling over his forehead and carefully cultivated stubble, and bulging muscles, and bright blue irises.

  But his eyes. His eyes were trained on me like he was a predator and I was his prey.

  Why would he describe himself as something he wasn’t?

  Surely you only lie if you’re ugly, or old, or fat. But he’s—

  He’s none of those things.

  So why did he lie? It must be because he gets a thrill from it. I thought it was because he was trying to make me love him, but that wasn’t the point at all. The lying was the point.

  He was just playing with me. Every single thing about J was fabricated.

  I curl my arms around my head, resting my forehead against my knees. I want to block out my thoughts, because everything going through my head is just making me panic more; and once I start I won’t be able to stop, and then I’ll be hidden in the dark in the stores in my nightdress, unable to breathe.

  Why didn’t he chase me? Why did he just stand there and let me go? After all the effort he took to sneak up to my ship while I was sleeping and catch me unawares. Why did he let me get away like that?

  Because he doesn’t need to chase me. There’s nowhere I can run to escape him. We’re on a ship in the middle of space. He’s got me trapped.

  I wonder what he’s doing, whether he’s even looking for me. An image of him searching through my things slithers into my brain. He could be poking his fingers in my hairbrush, touching my handmade clothes, stroking my teddy bear, toying with my models, eating my strawberry jam…

  I can’t help but let out a horrified sob.

  Why is he doing this to me? Why me?

  How did he even get sent on this mission? Surely NASA must have put him through some kind of … sanity test? How did someone like him manage to be chosen for the second ever deep-space mission?

  My mind goes round in circles, thinking over everything until I can’t think any more. Eventually, I close my eyes.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  1

  I’m halfway towards a kind of exhausted sleep when I hear a crackle. Every muscle in my body tenses, wondering what is coming next.

  A voice echoes across the cavernous stores.

  “Hello, Romy.”

  I bring my hands to my mouth to hold in a gasp. It’s impossibly loud. It’s like his voice is all around me. Where is he?

  “I found the intercom.”

  I didn’t even know there was an intercom. I press my head against the wall, half in relief that he isn’t here in person, half in increased fear. He can talk to me whenever he wants. He can torment me for twenty-four hours a day.

  “I’m sorry I scared you. I thought –” he lets out a laugh, short and obviously fake, crackling over the speakers – “that it would be a nice surprise for you, for me to arrive early.”

  I want to push my fingers into my ears, to block out the sound of his voice, but I can’t. I need to know what he says.

  “I can understand why you ran. But it’s OK, you can come out now. I’m not going to hurt you. You know me. I only want what’s best for you. I just want to say hello, after all this talking by email!”

  He pauses, for long enough that I think it’s over. When he speaks again, it makes me jump. His voice is low, almost inaudible.

  “There’s no need to rush, though. Take your time. I’m going to sleep now.”

  Then there’s a crackle as the intercom shuts off.

  Is he in my bed? The thought makes me feel like I’m covered in bugs, a literal itch on my skin.

  Does he still think I don’t know? How can he possibly think I haven’t guessed, after I cut short his call? After I ran away from him?

  How can he believe there’s anything he can say that’ll make me come out?

  What am I going to do?

  What am I going to do?

  I can only stay here until my thirst makes me leave the stores in search of water. I have a day, maybe less. Long enough to come up with a plan. Probably.

  Right now I don’t believe there’s any way I can win.

  I curl up on the floor, rest my head on a lasagne tray and close my eyes. I take deep breaths in and out, pretending to myself that I’m asleep and not actually straining my ears for the slightest sound, or braced for action, on the edge of a panic attack.

  After an hour, my muscles ache from the tension.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  5

  He gives me four hours, and then the intercom begins again. His voice
is light and soft, almost a whisper.

  “Good morning, Romy. Did you sleep well?” There’s a pause, as if he’s expecting me to answer.

  I shiver, but not from the cold.

  “Please come out?” His voice suddenly turns into a gentle croon. “I miss you. I miss our conversations.”

  Another pause. Then, “Please. I’ve waited so long to meet you.”

  I bury my face in my hands, wishing I was less scared so that I could cry.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  9

  He doesn’t stop pleading with me all morning. His voice has taken over my brain. It’s worse than any nightmare.

  “You’re killing me here. If you don’t come out, I don’t know what I’ll do. I might hurt myself. I’m in so much pain…”

  His voice grates at me, tearing away shreds of my control until I’m a fearful wreck. He’s got me surrounded, wrapped up in his words. He’s squeezing me tighter until I want to explode just to get free of the pressure. I can’t escape.

  I can’t even stop listening.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  13

  “Please just talk to me, Romy. Say something. I need to hear your voice. I’m worried you’ve hurt yourself.”

  I wonder what he’s doing – whether he’s looking for me, wandering around my ship while he talks into the intercom. He could be doing anything, and there’s no way I could stop him.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  17

  “Romy, you’re being very silly. It’s rude to ignore me like this.”

  I lie on my back and stare up at the crack between the wall and the edge of the stacks, where a greyish tinge of light encroaches on the blackness. My mouth tastes of bile and iron and mucus and salt.

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  19

  “Don’t you trust me? Do you think I’m going to hurt you?”

  I’m going to die. This is it. I have to accept it. I have no plan; no way of escaping him. Nothing to do except go to him.

  “Come out, Romy.”

  Why shouldn’t I? I’m just delaying the inevitable, hiding here like a coward instead of facing my worst fear.

  Right?

  HOURS SINCE THE ETERNITY CAUGHT UP:

  23

  His voice is rough now, after hours of murmuring and begging. All of the kindness and gentleness is gone.

  “I’m going to give you one last chance to come out, Romy. And then I’m coming to find you.”

  I press my palms into my eyes and bite down on a scream. I can’t face him. He’s going to kill me. And he knows I know – he’s not even pretending any more. He’s coming.

  I can’t blink for fear.

  He won’t find me, whatever he says. He can’t, not here. It’s impossible.

  I’m safe, I know I am.

  My face is wet with tears.

  He can’t—

  There’s a noise.

  The stacks all shift like they’re falling, and I think for a moment I must have knocked into one and set off an avalanche, but then I see the light. It flickers across my hiding place, sending shadows dancing.

  It gets brighter and brighter until a hand bursts through the boxes, then an arm and a head.

  The head turns slowly, so slowly.

  J looks at me. He smiles.

  I catch sight of his wide grin before he shines his torch directly at me. It’s so bright that I’m blinded. That kick-starts me. I throw myself backwards along the side of the ship, straining to see past the bright spots in my vision.

  A shadow lunges at me. Fingers grasp at my kneecap, skittering over bare skin and clasping around my calf.

  His grip is tight when he tugs, pulling me closer. I let out a horrified scream and try to grab on to boxes, but he’s too strong. I slide towards him, packets falling around me.

  I can feel his breath, hot against the inside of my knee.

  I kick out with my foot and connect with something solid. He grunts, his grip loosening. I do it again before he can stop me. I can feel something wet on my toes.

  I dive backwards, twisting to push my way through the fallen packets along the side of the wall. At any moment I expect to feel his hands on me again.

  He yells, furious. It sounds far enough away that I risk looking over my shoulder.

  J is stuck. The gap is too small for him. He can’t follow me.

  He’s knocking packets out of the way, trying to clear a larger passage, but he’s too big. His torso barely fits.

  I stop and watch him from ten metres away, half-hidden behind a large box of machinery.

  He notices me looking and stops as well. His mouth, teeth bared in fury as he fights his way to me, transitions into a charming smile.

  “Can you help me? I think I’m stuck.”

  He waves his free hand at me. I slide back another metre, peeking around the corner at him.

  “No.” The words come out in a whisper.

  “No?” he says, feigning confusion.

  “I’m not stupid,” I tell him. My voice is a little stronger this time.

  J stares at me, and then smiles again, flashing white teeth. He wipes away the blood under his nostrils, from where I kicked him.

  “I know you’re not stupid, Romy. I think you’re very clever.”

  I wince. “Stop lying to me,” I say, spitting out the words.

  At that, his bright blue eyes actually look surprised. He shifts. The packets around him skid, but he’s not trying to chase me any more. He’s settling in to talk.

  “Why do you think I’m lying to you?”

  “How can you do this to me? I thought we were friends!” I can feel hot tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. I hope he can’t see them at this distance.

  “What am I doing to you?” he asks, his voice achingly gentle.

  “You’re … you’re … stalking me. I know you made up the UPR. And the war.” My voice is shrill and wavering. I sound like the child he pretends I am.

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Romy. Why don’t you come here and I’ll explain everything? You can trust me. You know me better than anyone.”

  I slide back another metre until I can only see the light from his torch and the shadows he casts on the floor as he tries to move. He’s quiet, listening to my breathing.

  “Nothing you can say will make me trust you. I’d rather die,” I whisper, and then slide back, far away from him.

  He starts fighting against the packets again. The vibrations make the stacks around me tremble.

  He can’t get through. There are too many boxes, too densely packed, and I’m too fast. Eventually he gives up.

  “I have a heat sensor,” he yells. “You can’t avoid me for ever! Stop acting like a child and come and talk!”

  The words stun me. A heat sensor. That’s how he found me so quickly. He knew where I was this whole time.

  He was toying with me. Again.

  I move faster – in case it’s a trick, or he’s crawling across the stores to cut me off somewhere else. I only stop when my arm hits something that won’t shift.

  I freeze, wishing I had light. When I check my arm for an injury, the only fresh blood on me is J’s, drying in the cracks of the soles of my feet.

  I carefully reach out and touch whatever I hit. It’s the rung of a ladder. It’s a way out.

  I don’t bother being quiet – there’s no point, not if he can find me so easily. I start climbing downwards, even though I don’t know where I’m going. I thought I knew every centimetre of my ship, but I can’t remember where on the ground level this ladder comes out.

  I’ve been climbing for a few minutes when my stomach twists over and my feet lift out from under me mid-step. Suddenly I’m falling, colliding with the walls of the shaft on the way down. Something’s happened to the artificial gravity.

  There’s no time to think. I scramble for a rung and twist to the side, trying to catch on to the ladder, but I’m mov
ing too fast.

  I brace myself to hit the floor with a painful and bloody crunch.

  Just as I’m really starting to panic, I crash into the base of the shaft, the impact jolting through my knee joints.

  I catch my breath, trying to calm my panic. The shaft wasn’t deep enough to hurt me. I’m OK.

  What’s going on? Are the rotation thrusters that control the artificial gravity failing? Or has J done this too? Is he messing with my ship again in an attempt to hurt me?

  All he would have to do is adjust the speed at which the ship is rotating. That would change the force of the gravity it generates. To make it heavier, he must have sped up the ship’s spinning.

  I don’t have time to worry about it now. J could push his way through the stores and follow me at any second. I can’t let him find me. I start moving, fighting against the force of the new, heavier artificial gravity.

  When the shaft’s lights flicker off, I don’t even stop moving. I pull the torch out of my pocket, where I always keep it, and clip it to my belt. My teeth are chattering. It’s hard to move, and my limbs are slow to react, like I’m wading through treacle.

  I reach down to push open the metal hatch, holding on tightly in case the gravity changes again. The lights flash on and off, strobing across my vision. I feel drunk, unsure which direction is up or down.

  I shine my torch down into the room below. The dim glow of the blue standby lights turn to white, activated by my motion. Suddenly, I realize where I am. There’s a reason I’ve never come across this ladder before – it leads into the sick bay.

  For a second I debate returning to the shaft. I’m caught between finally facing the room or going back to J.

  When the lights turn off again and don’t come back on, I make my decision. I climb down into the room. Whatever is waiting for me in here is nothing like what’s above.

  My gaze is drawn to the table where I once found Dad’s remains. The pods still line the room like hollow gravestones. I count from the doorway, finding the one containing my mother.