A Complicated Love Story Set in Space

by Shaun David Hutchinson

  “Production can’t watch us in the shuttle, right?” I asked.

  “Well, Ty’s EMP took out the monitoring equipment, but we were just there. Why do you want to go back?”

  I flashed DJ a grin and pulled him toward the door. “I want to spend what little time we have left with you. And I don’t want an audience.”

  SIX

  DJ SNORED. IT SOUNDED LIKE the rat-tat-tat of a machine gun, making it impossible for me to sleep. It was annoying and adorable, which pretty much described everything about DJ and why I loved him.

  I lay with my head on his bare chest on the floor of the shuttle. I’d covered the front window with a tarp to make sure Production couldn’t spy inside. DJ was using our balled-up clothes as a pillow.

  I didn’t know if this was the first time I had been with DJ, though I suspected it wasn’t. Even knowing that my memory of that night with Billy hadn’t happened to me, I had been scared to shed my clothes in front of DJ. I’d flinched, at first, at his touch. I wondered if the person from whom Production had stolen the memory about Billy still felt a tight knot of fear in their stomach when someone touched them, even if they didn’t know why. I hated Production for exploiting someone’s pain for the entertainment of others. It was disgusting and cruel.

  I wondered, if Production got their way and sent me for rewrites, would someone else get my memory of the last couple of hours? Would Production extract my memory of this time with DJ, remix it, and inject it into someone else’s head? Whoever the recipient was would get to feel safe the way I felt safe. They’d get to feel loved the way I felt loved. They’d know what it was like to be the only star in someone’s universe. They would know, and I would forget.

  It wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to lose this memory. I didn’t want to lose any of my memories. There are fates worse than death, and to love and be loved and have the memory of it ripped away is one such fate.

  According to DJ, this wouldn’t be the first time, or even the second. How many times was Production going to tear me and DJ apart? How many times were we going to let them?

  I knew if I shared my thoughts with DJ, he would keep trying to find a way to save us. That was one of my favorite things about him. No matter the situation, he put his head down and got to work. DJ wasn’t flashy or showy, and he never demanded gratitude. But I could always count on him to be in the corner quietly doing the work necessary to keep us alive.

  He couldn’t save us this time, though. It was my turn to do the work.

  I sat up, slowly and carefully. Disentangled myself from DJ. I kissed his forehead and whispered, “I won’t let them take you from me again.”

  GOODBYE, FAREWELL AND AMEN

  ONE

  “WARNING! QRIOSITY WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN thirty minutes. Warning!”

  I guess when it came down to it, I’d decided I was done playing Production’s game.

  Jenny and Ty reached Ops together, which was a development I was definitely not expecting.

  “What’s this?” I asked, wagging my finger at them. “What’s going on here?”

  “You first!” Jenny said. “The ship is going to explode?!”

  “I’ll explain that when DJ gets here so that I don’t have to repeat myself,” I said.

  A countdown on the viewport kept track of how long we had before Qriosity’s self-destruct engaged, and the computer provided a helpful warning every five minutes.

  Jenny glanced at Ty. “He apologized for shooting me and said he only did it because he thought I was working for Production. I’ve forgiven him, and you should too.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

  “And we’re not returning him to Production,” Jenny added.

  If Jenny wanted to get to know Ty, that was her business, but I didn’t feel comfortable with him running around the ship without supervision. Forgiveness was easy; trust would take time, a resource we were low on.

  DJ finally arrived, red-faced and buttoning his pants.

  “Your shirt is on backward,” Ty said. Jenny laughed and gave me a knowing smile, which I ignored.

  DJ shoved past them both. “What’s happening? Why are we self-destructing? Did Production do this?”

  I leaned against the console and said, “Now that you’re all here, I can explain.”

  “Explain what?” DJ asked. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  Ty said, “I believe that’s what he’s attempting to do.”

  DJ glared at Ty. “Why are you here again?”

  I cleared my throat to regain their attention. “Production controls Qriosity. We know that. We can’t shut down the fold drive; we can’t access sensors or comms or navigation. We are, essentially, locked out of our own ship.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Except that’s not entirely true.”

  “Have you gotten into MediQwik’s narcotics?” Jenny asked.

  “Seriously, Noa,” DJ said. “What’s this about?”

  I held my silence until—

  “Warning! Qriosity will self-destruct in twenty-five minutes. Warning!”

  “There were a few times while I was stuck in the loop that it was simpler to end the day early and begin again. I discovered that I could initiate Qriosity’s self-destruct, and blowing up the ship was a quick and convenient way to hit the reset button. Once, I did it just because Jenny finally beat my high score on the pinball machine at Any Way You Slice It, the pizza shop in Bell’s Cove—”

  “You dick!” Jenny shouted. “Do you know how many hours I’ve wasted in front of that machine?”

  Ty nudged her arm. “Maybe this isn’t the best time?”

  I mouthed Sorry to Jenny before continuing. “The first time I used the self-destruct, I did it to see what would happen. DJ attempted to stop me, but initiating the self-destruct requires inputting a sixteen-digit alphanumeric code. And that same code must be entered in order to cancel the self-destruct. Without the code, DJ was helpless, and so, I think, was Production.”

  DJ was biting his thumbnail. “How’d you come to that conclusion?”

  “Easily,” I said. “We know that you were in contact with Production during the loop. If you couldn’t shut off the self-destruct, you would have asked Production to do it for you. But they didn’t, and I think that means that they couldn’t.”

  “Maybe they chose not to,” DJ said.

  “Possibly.” I had to admit that there was a slim chance DJ was correct. “But I think it’s more likely that Production simply overlooked the self-destruct system.”

  Jenny threw up her hands. “Because only a lunatic would blow themselves up!”

  Ty motioned at Jenny with his head. “I’m with her.”

  “Noa?” DJ said.

  “If this is the only choice Production has left us, then I would rather end this program on my own terms than wait for Production to strip away parts of who I am.” I looked at each of them in turn. “Maybe they only remove three days from our memories this time, but how many will they remove the next? If we don’t take a stand now, we never will.”

  Cautiously, DJ took my hand like I was going to explode instead of Qriosity. “I know you think this is the way—”

  I touched my temple. “I’ve got memories of a family that I miss, but they’re not real. You’re real. You and Jenny are my family.”

  “What about me?” Ty asked.

  “You’re the weird dude who shot Jenny.”

  Jenny nodded. “Every family needs one of those.”

  DJ laced his fingers tightly through mine. “I understand what you’re doing, but we can find another way. Production can’t keep us apart.”

  I kissed his knuckles. “You’ll find me or I’ll find you or we’ll find each other. Our love is epic and all that. I get it, and I believe it. But what happens then? Production pulls us apart again. Over and over. The endless cycle of finding you and losing you is tragic and romantic, but I’m over it. I’m making my stand here on Qriosity.”

  Jenny looked like she was going to argue but the
n seemed to change her mind. After a moment, she shrugged, reached into her pocket, and pulled out a Nutreesh bar. “Fine, let’s blow up the ship or whatever.”

  Ty raised his hand. “I’m still vigorously opposed to exploding.”

  “Hush, sweetie,” Jenny said. “Your job is to look pretty; you don’t get a vote.”

  “Noa—” DJ said, but before he could raise his objection, photons swarmed from the vents and took shape in front of the viewport.

  “Hi! I’m your host, Jenny Perez, whom you probably remember from earlier when I explained that your situation is hopeless and your only option is submission. It seems you’ve activated the Explodovat SD-23X self-destruct appliance. When you need your ship obliterated, trust Explodovat. Explodovat is a fully owned subsidiary of Gleeson Foods.”

  A few seconds passed where no one spoke. Finally, Jenny nudged me in the back. “Noa?”

  I cleared my throat and steeled my spine. I did my damnedest to prevent the terror I felt from reaching my eyes, I turned my full attention to Jenny Perez, and I said, “We’re rejecting your offer.”

  “Are we absolutely certain?” Ty asked. “I’m not sure we were quite finished discussing it.”

  DJ squeezed my hand and smiled at me with those dimples. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re sure.”

  I wanted to kiss him so badly. It was difficult to think about anything else, but I had to stay focused. “We will not submit to having our memories rewritten, and we will not hand over Ty.”

  “Thank God,” he whispered.

  “In addition to rejecting your offer, we have some demands of our own.”

  “We do?” DJ said.

  “Sure, why not?” I shrugged and continued. “You will release control of Qriosity, you will shut down all surveillance equipment aboard the ship, and you will set us free and never bother us again.”

  “I’d also like to never see her again,” Jenny added. “I want to be the only Jenny on this ship.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  Jenny Perez’s face remained serene throughout my speech, as if I was simply listing the ingredients for brownies rather than attempting to blackmail her. Finally, when the palpable silence was nearly unbearable, Jenny Perez said, “No.”

  “No?”

  “No,” she repeated.

  “Just like that?” I said. “You’re willing to let the stars of your highest-rated program blow themselves up and end the show without a fight? Without even attempting to negotiate?”

  Jenny Perez folded her arms across her chest. “Is this a negotiation, then?”

  “It can be,” I said.

  “Production will not accede to your demands.”

  I hadn’t thought they would. “Okay,” I said. “But maybe we can reach a compromise that will make everyone happy.”

  “There’s no arguing with Production,” Ty said. “This is fairly pointless.”

  DJ stepped forward. “Let us come aboard your ship and talk to you face-to-face. Maybe we can hammer out a solution that doesn’t involve anyone blowing up.”

  Seconds passed, and I held my breath. Jenny Perez’s eyes were blank, like she wasn’t there. A moment later, she blinked and said, “Agreed. We will dock with Qriosity in one hour.” The photons dispersed, and Jenny Perez was gone.

  Ty spoke first. “You can’t honestly believe they’re going to negotiate with you in good faith. If you board their ship, you might as well submit to rewrites.”

  “We still have the self-destruct.” I turned to Jenny. “Jenny, you and Ty will stay here. We’ll reset the timer on the self-destruct and I’ll give you the code—”

  Jenny rubbed her hands together. “Finally, some real power.”

  “Keep it armed, and if Production tries anything, blow up the ship.”

  DJ’s eyes widened like a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place. “Production will be docked with us, so their ship will explode along with Qriosity.”

  I looked toward the ceiling, even though I didn’t actually know where the cameras were located. “Did you hear that? If we die, you die.”

  “It’s a good plan,” DJ said.

  I sighed. “It’s really not, but it’s all we’ve got.”

  TWO

  PRODUCTION’S SHIP LOOKED LIKE A suppository. It had no windows, no doors or seams that I could see as it approached. I couldn’t even locate thrusters. It was bland and boring and white, and it arrived exactly sixty minutes after the end of our conversation, just like Jenny Perez said it would.

  DJ and I stood on our side of the airlock, waiting for Production’s ship to finish docking.

  “Hey,” DJ said. “About what happened earlier—”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I thought if I woke you up, you’d try to talk me out of it.”

  “I meant before that.”

  “Oh.” Heat rose into my cheeks, and a smile touched my lips.

  “We didn’t get to talk about it,” DJ said, “and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  A laugh escaped. “Better than okay.”

  DJ beamed. “Really?”

  I reached my arms around his waist and pulled him against me. “That’s why I’m doing this. For you. For us.”

  “We can still find another way.”

  My lips lingered on DJ’s lips as I kissed him slowly. “What’s the point of being in love if you can’t remember falling in love?” I kissed his nose and his cheek and his chin. “I don’t want to forget falling in love with you. Not again.”

  The umbilical bridge from Production’s ship connected to Qriosity and created an airtight seal. The lights above the door switched from red to green, and the door opened.

  “Come on.” I took DJ’s hand and pulled him along. I wished I could feel as confident as I was pretending I was. My heart was beating spastically and I felt clumsy, like I was going to trip and fall and smash my face into the floor. DJ was all that kept me from embarrassing myself in front of our captors.

  “Whoa,” DJ said as we entered their ship.

  Like the outside, the inside was glossy and white. There were no corners and no seams. It was like the entire ship had been carved from a single block of plastic. “I bet this place is a pain in the ass to keep clean of fingerprints.”

  “Do you think they have fingers?” DJ asked.

  I hadn’t exactly considered who or what we would be meeting. Production, sure, but what was Production? Were they living people? Sentient robots? Aliens? Ty believed Production was an algorithm, and DJ thought they were an artificial intelligence, and either of those was plausible, but the truth was that we didn’t know.

  “What now?” As soon as the question left my mouth, a green arrow appeared on the floor.

  “I guess we go that way,” DJ said.

  I squeezed DJ’s hand so tightly that his knuckles cracked, causing him to flinch. I was scared. Terrified, really. We didn’t know what to expect, and my mind churned out a million possibilities. A hundred Jenny Perez clones could be waiting to take us into custody. Production might capture us, saw off the tops of our skulls, and replace our brains with tiny robots. We might learn that everything we’d experienced had been a simulation, and that our real bodies were in a vat of goo in an enormous, dark storage room. We were absolutely out of our depth. DJ was the only reason I could bear the fear. The only reason I could keep moving forward.

  The arrows led us to an egg-shaped room that was devoid of decoration except for a bench and a chair, both located in the center. The furniture looked like it was made of the same material as the ship. Like it had simply flowed up and out of the floor.

  “Should we sit?” DJ asked.

  “Might as well.” We chose the bench, and I was surprised to find that it wasn’t as unyielding as it appeared. The surface contoured to my butt and back like memory foam.

  “How come Production gets this,” I asked, “and we’re stuck with that sagging, busted piece-of-crap couch in the rec room?”

  “Because anything more
stylish would not have matched Qriosity’s scrappy, patchwork aesthetic.”

  The answer originated from behind me, and I turned around so quickly that I nearly pulled a muscle in my neck. “You,” I said.

  “Me!” Jenny Perez walked casually around the bench and took a seat in the chair across from us. She was smiling, wearing a pastel green suit, and she looked solid. Her edges didn’t shimmer. I was pretty sure she wasn’t a hologram. “Hi! I’m your negotiator, Jenny Perez.”

  “Are you real?” DJ asked.

  Jenny Perez laughed. The delicate sound filled the stark room and then cut off sharply. “No.”

  “Then what are you?” I asked. Learning more about Jenny Perez might not have been the reason we’d willingly boarded Production’s ship, but I was genuinely interested. She’d told me a great deal about her life as a child actress when I’d been struggling to come to terms with being trapped on the ship. I’d even felt some sympathy for her, but she had probably lied about her past the way she’d lied about everything else.

  Jenny Perez crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in the chair. “This shell is a temporary self-contained environment for my personality matrix to inhabit during our negotiations. Production thought you would respond better to me this way.”

  “Personality matrix?” DJ asked. “Are you Production? Are you in charge?”

  Jenny Perez laughed again, but there was a jagged edge to it this time. “Heavens, no. Jenny Perez is a fully licensed personality matrix owned by Kharis Talent Organization and leased to Production. KTO is a fully owned subsidiary of Gleeson Foods.”

  I was even more confused than before. “If you’re not in charge, then why the hell are we talking to you?”

  “Tsk, tsk, Noa.” Jenny Perez sighed. “I am authorized to speak for and negotiate on behalf of Production. Any agreements I reach with you are binding.”

  I threw a questioning look at DJ, and he shrugged. I didn’t believe for a second that we could trust Production, but I didn’t see that we had a choice. We were on Production’s ship, our Jenny was safe on Qriosity with her finger on the button that would blow us all to atoms, and Jenny Perez had gone through the trouble of stuffing herself into a body. It would be a waste of time to give up now.