Lost in Space: One lone astronaut One lost space traveler Two ships passing in the night

by Dylan Keefer

  Nivea turned to lie on her side and stare at Meg, who was sitting in the seat that had been Jack’s. Meg seemed to be just sitting there, rocking back and forth slightly, out of boredom. Suddenly she turned so that she was in profile to Nivea. But it was dark in the shuttle, and Nivea guessed that Meg couldn’t see her looking. All Nivea could see was Meg’s silhouette anyway. But she could see that her hands were shaking. Meg pulled her legs up under her chin and tried to steady her hands by gripping her legs. She stayed like that for a minute or so before putting her face into her knees. She made an effort not to make a sound, but Nivea could see from the way her body shook, that she was crying.

  Were they closer friends, Nivea would’ve known what to do, but in this case, she didn’t know if it was appropriate to get up and comfort her. Perhaps she had waited for Nivea to go to sleep before allowing herself this.

  Nivea tried not to judge her. She mentally put herself in Meg’s shoes. Having to be moved to some foreign planet to marry a man she’d never met, but being okay with it because she was attracted to the man and was confident that it would all work out for the best, only to find out he wasn’t the man she thought he would be. What would it be like to escape a situation like that and end up lost in space? Sure, technically Nivea had saved her, but she couldn’t take her home. She was going to have to make a life somewhere new. It had to be terrifying.

  Meg had a right to be upset, and Nivea decided to just leave her to it. She turned away and tried to quiet her mind, eventually falling asleep.

  The following morning, or at least morning by Nivea’s standards, they were both woken up by the sound of Nivea’s alarm.

  “What is that?” Meg mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

  “It’s my alarm, to wake me up. I won’t turn on the lights, you can try to get some more sleep.”

  “No, no this is how I adjust to your way of life. I will do as you do,” Meg said, almost whining.

  Despite this claim, she closed her eyes again while Nivea changed and retrieve some food for the both of them. She only opened them again when Nivea sat down at the console and started making some adjustments.

  “Imagination to Defiance Labs, Imagination to Defiance Labs. Come in, Dr. Vanes, come in,” said Nivea into a microphone. She waited.

  After a moment, Meg said, “Imagination… it’s like thoughts and pictures in your language, correct?”

  “Yes…” Nivea said wearily, predicting the next question.

  “Why is your thoughts going to Earth?”

  “The shuttle-craft we’re in, it’s called the Imagination. It’s being used as a name as well as a word.”

  “Oh. You are trying to contact Earth?”

  “Yes. We normally communicate daily. I haven’t gotten through since─”

  “Your friend passed.”

  “Yeah… If I stay on course I think I can make it back to Earth, but… I would like to at least tell someone Jack is gone.”

  “I have a communication device with me, if you would like to fiddle with it. Even if it can’t contact your planet now, perhaps it could be made to, like Patseone.”

  “I’m sorry, like what?”

  “Patseone, she can make science things work with cloth and cups and, peh…” Meg pressed the tips of her index fingers to the tips of her thumbs like she was miming something, “Clips? Pins… things that are found.”

  “Oh… is this, uh, some well-known public figure in your society? A scientist?”

  “Public figure… No… well, yes… she is well-known… she is fictional.”

  “Oh! Like Macgyver.”

  “What is that?”

  “Never mind,” Nivea said, as Meg got up to reach into her spacesuit, which still lay in a puddle on the floor. “Hey, Meg?”

  “Yes?”

  “How come you have my language, all the definitions to all these words, but not like, the history of humanity… or the background on Macgyver?”

  “I can only get so much from your mouth.”

  “…That’s a really weird way to put that.”

  Meg came and sat back down next to Nivea, handing her the square communications device. Nivea started examining it, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “Peh… Nivea?” said Meg timidly.

  “Yes, Meg?”

  Meg bit one of her fingernails nervously. “You said your people don’t know there are others…”

  “Oh, I think we’ve pretty much accepted the possibility, though…”

  “Yes, but… will I be in danger there?”

  “I… I’m hoping not… If we have to lie about where you came from… I will.”

  “You would lie for a total stranger?”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  Meg smiled. “But surely your people will think I’m strange colored? Because I don’t look like you?”

  “Huh? Oh no! You’re pretty pale, but you’re not out of the norm. I’m just… I’m black.”

  “Humans are multicolored?”

  “Yeah… All of your species are that pale white? I don’t even want to think about the implications of that,” Nivea said quietly as she took off the back of Meg’s device.

  “The man I was to marry was like that suit,” Meg pointed.

  “Like your spacesuit? What do you mean…? Purple?”

  “Yes… Very purple. Kramer, he was good looking.”

  “His name was Kramer?”

  “Haha, no, Kramer is… Peh… It’s a word from an old language of my people. It means… very much?”

  “Very much?”

  “It’s an exclamation, of emphasis. It is almost… meaningless. People try not to use it in excess.”

  “Oh, like a curse word? You meant like… Damn, he’s hot?”

  “Yes, like that, yes,” she giggled tapping her fingers on the console. “Kramer would be an awful name…”

  “It is a name… On Earth, I mean. So’s Meg… but usually it’s short for Megan.”

  “Not Megan. Just Meg.”

  “I know, I’m just saying is all.”

  “Meg means… life… sort of.”

  “Life?”

  “Like, you have an expression don’t you… even though you are always alive, unless you are dead. But sometimes you feel more like you are alive.”

  “To feel alive, yeah. That’s what your name means?”

  “Peh, yes. Peh, My father says he never did feel like that until I was born. So he named me after that feeling.”

  “How sweet. Hey, can I ask you one more question?” Meg nodded. “Um… why do you keep making that P sound?”

  “Pee?”

  “You keep going like, um, pehhh.”

  “Oh, I am thinking.”

  “Peh means you’re thinking, but um…”

  “You have just done it there.”

  “Uhh…” said Nivea, confused. Meg nodded. “Oh! Um! You’re going ummm.”

  “Yes, yes, I think, or show misunderstand, or stall. I try to adopt your language, but when I don’t know what word use, so say peh, it is natural to me.”

  Nivea sighed as she clicked the back of Meg’s device back on. “That makes so much more sense. Hey, how do you turn this thing on?”

  “This, here,” Meg said, reaching out to touch what looked like a plus sign on the front of the device. She slid her finger along it in the shape of the plus. The lines lit up and the device beeped. “Try to contact your planet again. I can perhaps make my device follow the line of yours. They will be receiving signals from two.”

  “Okay,” Nivea said, pulling the microphone over to her. “Imagination to Defiance Labs, Imagination to Defiance Labs, come in.”

  Meg stroked her device as Nivea repeated contact again and again. She continued as long as Meg continued to stroke the device. Nivea was starting to lose hope as minutes went by, but she held her disappointment in and kept speaking.

  “Dr. Vanes, please. I need to talk to someone, anyone from Earth…”

  “Nivea?” e
choed a voice, both coming from Meg’s device, and the shuttle console.

  “Dr. Vanes?”

  “I’m here, Nivea!” the woman shouted, and then more quietly, “Sir, we have contact with Moore and Harrison”

  “Nivea Moore? Is that’chu, girl?” said a gruff voiced man with a slight Louisiana accent.

  “Yes, yes it is, sir.”

  “And Jack Harrison, why aren’t you speaking up?” asked the man.

  “I… I’m sorry, Sir. Jack is… I lost Jack.”

  “Lost him…? What is that supposed to mean, girly?”

  “I… he died. He died a week ago when I lost contact. I’m sorry…”

  “How did he pass, Nivea?” asked Dr. Vanes.

  “I… I don’t know. He just… he just didn’t wake up one morning,” Nivea said, her voice shaking.

  “Keep it together, Moore. You still gotta get home,” said the man.

  “Mr. Abott… I…” Nivea glance up at Meg.

  Meg pointed to herself, and mouthed, “Are you going to mention me?”

  Nivea mouthed back, “I don’t know,” with a shrug.

  She never got the chance to decide.

  “Moore, we’re getting some interference. Can you still hear us?” said Mr. Abott

  “Yes, I can hear you. Listen, my stats say─”

  “Nivea, Nivea are you there?” said Dr. Vanes.

  “I’m here, I’m right here!”

  “Defiance Labs to Imagination, Imagination, come in. Moore, come in,” said Mr. Abott.

  “I can still hear you!”

  “We’ve lost her,” said Dr. Vanes.

  “Why can’t they hear us?” Nivea asked Meg, but before Meg could answer, the lights went out.

  In the silent darkness they could feel their bodies becoming weightless.

  “Oh no…” whispered Meg and shut her eyes as tightly as she could.

  An indeterminable amount of time later Meg opened her eyes, to find she couldn’t see at all. It took her a bit to realize it was simply so dark in the room, she was unable to see anything, and not that she had suddenly lost her eyesight.

  The air had that distinctive metal tang of a recycled atmosphere that was not catered toward comfort for anyone, and certainly not a human. She listened closely for the sound of moving, or breathing, but there was nothing.

  “Nivea?” she whispered. “Nivea, are you here?”

  There was no response. It was possible she was still safe on her shuttle, heading home. But if there was even the slightest chance that Nivea was on this ship, Meg had to do all she could to find her. She’d only known the woman for a night or so, but if something bad was happening to her, it was Meg’s fault. She had gotten her into this. Nivea had accepted Meg with open arms, even though she could have just passed her by. Perhaps that was the wrong decision.

  Meg stood to investigate. It didn’t take her long to determine that she was in a small room, roughly three yards square. There were containers pushed up against one wall, and she clambered up onto the containers and ran her hands over the wall and what she could reach of the ceiling, searching for any kind of window or vent. There was none. On the opposite side of the room from the containers was a door, but it didn’t open when Meg approached it and she could feel no catch or lock mechanism. She tried forcing it, but it didn’t move.

  She tried to force it once more, pushing with all of her weight against where she thought the internal locking mechanism to be. She could feel a small amount of give, but not enough to make the door open.

  She stopped, trembling with the effort, her muscles aching, but she was determined. This would not be her last attempt. She stood with her back leaning against the door and closed her eyes, picturing Nivea. That soft brown skin and weary eyes. She just wanted to go home. Meg wished she hadn’t interfered with that.

  In a further moment of weakness, she turned to face the door and beat her fists against it, calling out as loudly as she could, “Nivea!”

  On the opposite side of the ship, Nivea was moving in the darkness almost at a crawling pace. She had finally found a door to the room she was in, and had pried it open with her fingertips. Now she thought she was in some kind of corridor; at least, it was a space about three paces wide that didn't seem to have an end.

  Suddenly she felt intense empathy for blind people.

  She stopped moving and leaned against the wall for a moment. There was no vibration or tell from an engine, but she must’ve been on a ship of some kind. Unless she was dead.

  A fire of determination lit within her. It had just occurred to her that she had nothing to lose either way. Jack was dead, she was lost in space, she’d been separated from her new friend that was either an alien or not even real, she couldn’t see, and she might be dead. This could’ve made her feel hopeless, but it didn’t. Instead, she realized that there was nothing to do but try to find Meg. If she never found her, if she never got out of this darkness, what difference would looking make?

  Nivea carried on through the utter darkness of the corridor, hands slipping over the cold wall panels, her feet making empty echoes as they trod the floor. There was a slight curve to the thing, she was sure. For a long time she didn't encounter any doors, but then she felt the undulations of the wall, giving way to a door-frame, and she pressed her fingers against it, trying to force this door as she had forced the door of the room she’d arrived in. Eventually it gave way, and she stumbled into what seemed to be a storage room of sorts, her fingertips throbbing from the effort of opening the door. She ran her hands over shelves and boxes. Although she managed to open some of the boxes she found nothing of use, just packets that may have been anything from dehydrated food to drugs. She couldn't tell in the dark.

  She left that room and carried on. And then she heard something. Far off there was a sound that pushed into the complete silence of this place. She couldn't quite make it out, but it was Meg's voice, she was certain of that. She may have only known her for a night, but her voice was permanently ingrained in her mind. She called back, “Meg!” but there was no reply.

  She carried on along the corridor, hugging close to the wall, her hands feeling for any doorways. Then the lights snapped on, momentarily blinding her just as much as the darkness had. She froze, blinking, trying to regain her sight. Had she tripped a light sensor, or was there someone coming? Where could she hide?

  She heard a whirring sound, then footsteps coming her way. Luckily the corridor was curved slightly and so she turned and fled back the way she came, as quietly as possible, hoping to be able to stay far enough in front of the newcomers so as to be able to stay out of sight. It was faster in the light, and as she reached the door of the storeroom this time the door slid open like a storefront as she reached it. She slipped inside, and let the door close.

  She leaned against the wall, listening to the footsteps as they moved closer. It was more than two pairs, but she couldn't tell how many. Enough to be wary of. They reached the door and carried on past.

  It occurred to her that she had been quick to trust Meg, but was also quick to distrust these people. She wasn’t running out and asking them for help, or how she got here. But she had a terrible feeling that was a bad idea. She tried to clear her mind and figure out what the most logical next step was. She was not trained for this.

  She waited a few moments, then slipped out after them, her heart beating so loudly that she felt instinctively that it must be audible to the people she was following. She stayed just far enough back that the curve of the corridor concealed her from sight, keeping her footfalls silent on the deck plating.

  For just an instant she sped up, just to see a glimpse of these people. She could see dark hair, and then, for just a moment, lavender skin. Fear was setting in. At least in the dark she had doubts, but now she could do nothing but believe her eyes. She was on an alien spaceship. She didn’t know what to do, and so hung back and simply followed them as they carried on their way through the ship.

  She was grat
eful to have someone to follow because gradually their path became more labyrinthine as they wound their way further into the ship.

  They started to go rather fast, and she thought she might lose them. She slowed down to catch her breath, not sure yet if she would continue after them. But Nivea had stopped just in time. She hadn't realized they had stopped as well, and she had to lurch herself back before they saw her. She waited, spying carefully around the corner. The four men were clustered around a door, and they seemed to be having trouble opening it.