Tag Archives: sci-fi adventure

A grand space terminal with gleaming white floors and panoramic windows overlooking a massive cruise-like starship hovering above the moon. A woman in a sleek black dress and turquoise heels stands near a holographic kiosk, her luggage beside her. A moment before she vanishes, a man in a long coat watches knowingly.

The Monster of Blueberry Falls, Chapter 12

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

“So, what are my options? I’ve got some money, an idea of what I’ll do for income, and a time to wait for Wen, who went so peacefully.”

“He’s a nice guy. I don’t know what to tell you,” said Barton. “He slipped. I wasn’t quite expecting that.”

“Where can I go from here?”

“Well, I was thinking about dropping you out on Earth.”

“What?”

“Well, More Earth-Two, to be honest. One dimension over the Earth is quite different.”

“What’s it like?”

“Well, it’s a lot closer to many other well-populated planets. They take care of their environment, they have pretty good space commerce. You can catch a starship or an intergalactic cruise from there to almost anywhere.”

“It’s as good a place to start as anywhere, right?”

“It’s what I like to think. If there’s anything you need or you’d like to ask me a question, shoot me a note or call me. My number is already on your phone.”

“Right. Take me there. How do we shift dimensions?”

“I do not know. I let the engineers figure all that stuff out. Come on, let’s go to the forward lounge.”

They walked to the front of the ship and after they made it there, and walked into the room, warp, they were standing in front of the Earth again.

“Looks like Earth to me.”

“That’s because it is. Watch.”

Before they spun the Earth. Clouds swirled around. On the dark sliver, they could see from here the city lights lit it up.

“Mostly, nothing. Very little experience with the world of, well, with the galaxy at large.”

“They don’t know we’re up here?”

“They can’t see us at all.”

“Nothing. So where is this other Earth I’m supposed to start on?”

“Right there.”

“But that looks like the Earth.”

“Aren’t you in awe?”

“Of course I am, But I was brought up on images of Earth from space, and I’m in a spaceship. True, that just dropped my boyfriend off on a crazy meatball of a planet…”

“Wrapped in Bacon.”

“Thank you… But here we are. What about this dimension hop here?”

“Watch.”

He held out his hand. She watched the Earth, from the corner of her eye, and with a vromp, everything changed.

The planet itself looked very similar. Blues, greens, and browns under a sea, under a layer of clouds, and a lit-up nightside. The first thing she noticed was the moon. They covered it from one side to the other in buildings. Steel buildings, and lights, it was a bustling place.

“Your moon there. Is the biggest starport on this side of the galaxy? I mean, there are a lot of great ones and just as many you wouldn’t want to get stuck in like any other airport, but this one, the moon, you can get just about anywhere in the galaxy from here.”

“Star liners?”

“Ships yeah, by the seat or the room, you can go anywhere from here.”

“This morning I woke up and thought I’d have just another normal day showing folks around our weird set of fake caves. I would see Wen once in a while. After closing time, he’d come out of hiding, but mostly, he was pretty quiet.”

“Then today.”

“And I’m on the other side of the glass. I’m out in the galaxy with my little bag, and we have to get somewhere now.”

“I know, it’s big.”

“How many others have you done this to?”

“What?”

“They could have killed me, left me unconscious on the fairground, certain no one would ever believe my story.”

“Yeah well…”

“You were kind. You could have just killed me, maybe sent me down to Bacon with Wen, but you’re setting me up. I’ve got a fresh identity, a new chance, and a line of galactic credits to get me back and forth across the void if I want to. But why?”

“Because in the face of all I have to do, sometimes I feel like it’s all I can do. If you want me to, I’ll give them a flip back, and I’ll have you down in your ok’d apartment, totally rent-free forever, of course. I’ll do my best to get you set up. But since you were so accepting of Wen, and the possibilities out here, I thought maybe you’d like a chance at this.”

“And I would.”

“Good, because it’s time to get out of here. I don’t get off this ship nearly enough. I’m taking you down in a shuttle.”

“What, a space shuttle?”

“Think of it like a badass minivan with no wheels, and we need to get on out of here.”

They dropped by Janet’s room to collect her things. Opening the door, her rolling bag was there, packed, and her shoulder bag.

She took her rolling bag and her shoulder bag and got them together, then followed Barton down the hall back to the elevators. This time, she went down.

“Don’t guess I could have gotten this lift to go down?”

“Not likely.”

The doors opened after a grief lurch and they were standing in a giant bay open on two sides of space.

“Force fields, shields if you will, keep us from flying out into space now.”

“Then I’m very glad for them.”

“This way.”

They crossed the bay, which was filled with a variety of sleek and chunky-looking fighters, busses, and Barton’s little flier.

It was black, and two clamshell doors opened on the left and right of it as he approached. “Toss your stuff in the back.”

“Okay.”

She put her things in the little vehicle. She felt like it was much larger than a car. Maybe a medium-sized cab top.

She folded herself into the front seat, and Barton got in next to her and revved it up. Lights came on all around her, and he lifted his ship into the air.

He worked a switch on his dash. “Barton, one planning departure, am I clear?”

“Yes, sir, the pattern is obvious. Please tell the Earth One lady we’re all rooting for her.”

“I will, thank you,” he flicked it off and polluted the incredibly smooth ship out of the bay. They left the larger ship behind them. Janet didn’t even know what it looked like and didn’t think to look it up on her phone until hours later.

They flew out and down, and straight to the moon. “I thought we were headed down to Earth?”

“You are welcome to explore there later, but I’m headed to the moon, to the main starport. It’s called Alpha Luna. You can get anywhere on Earth from there. And anywhere across the stars.”

They flew down, and as they got closer and closer, she could see all kinds of traffic traversing the moon in organized patterns. The ships looked like ants, then like dogs and cats, they were among them, and filed into the rest of the regular traffic, some ships looked like needles, others like meatballs, some looked stylish and organic, and others looked like they could be alive.

They slid through steel gray buildings, towering spirals of glass, and force fields until they came to Alpha Luna. It was a huge sun-shaped dome with eight points coming out of it, and it was fifty miles long, and five hundred starships were tethered, docked, fueling, or boarding around it.

“Holy shit.”

“I know, right?”

He pressed on and the closer they got, the more she could see the windows and openings. In the middle, at the top, was an expansive, bizarre parking deck.

He set down in a small square cubicle, and as their dories opened Janet watched as people came out to work on his vehicle. “No, fuel it up, yeah, but I need nothing. I’m just dropping off.”

That seemed to deflate the team, a young man and something else that to Janet sort of looked like a goofy canister with legs in a suit of overalls. “Thanks, guys. Come on.” He took Janet by the hand and led her out into the hall, which was closer to a king train track. Every few feet, trains that appeared to fly at lightning speed picked up people on their way in and out.

One stopped, and they sat down. There were no seatbelts, harnesses, or anything. This thing floated on a cushion of air and went three hundred miles an hour, just a blur around them. “Major terminal?”

“Just a moment, sir.”

They slid down mikes and mikes, stopping almost out of nowhere once in a while to pick someone up. Every moment or two a human, men, an alien, occasionally a vegetable. And at least one tune for a walking cat. He was seven feet tall and covered in leopard spots.

Soon the team was full, and a moment later they were letting everyone out in front of a grand entrance. Everything was white marble and bright lights. Through a massive downed window, you could see the Earth.

“Where will I go from here?”

“That depends on you, I think.”

“I’m in charge of that?”

“Sure. I didn’t bring you here to lock you down. I’m here to see you off.”

“In that case, I need a vacation.”

“Okay, let’s see what we can do. This way.” They came around, and by a table, there was a kiosk offering everything from exclusive sexy spas to theme parks the size of a planet.

“Get your little pad there.”

“What?”

“Your computer,”

“Okay.”

She swiped it, and a program downloaded it into the get system. “What’s this?”

“Pamphlets.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, advertisements for places to go. Little trifold things you used to see at the Florida visitors’ center, well this is the gem version. Compete with park maps and video clips.”

She sat down in a large swanky chair to flip through them. “Okay…”

“Be right back,” said Barton. “I’ll get a couple of drinks.” Though plenty of little robots seemed to flit about filling drinks, he went up to the counter himself to order anyway, keeping an eye back on Janet.

“Okay, star cruises, hotels, pleasure planets. That looks like a bit much for me. What about…” she flipped through some more. “Excursions, adventure, meeting new people. I don’t know.” She flipped some more, the light of her little notebook in her face.

Barton watched her with his spectacles, and three arms fixed their drinks. He brought them back and offered her a coffee. “Thank you.”

She took it and drank. The plastics were different, the lip edge of the cup, the size, and the measurements, but it was very good. Everything was wonderful, just a little off. She sipped and felt the warmth spread through her.

“Do you do caves?”

“I’ve never been a cave fan,” he said. “Enclosed spaces. I’m in enough of them.”

“I see. Fishing on Poseidon IV?”

“I don’t think so. It’s a planet-wide ocean with fish, and I use that term loosely, which could kill you in a heartbeat. Go if you are a big game hunter who doesn’t want anyone to give you grief anymore.”

“That makes sense. What about this cruise ship, the Starship Enigma?”

“That is an excellent choice. Let’s book you on there. It’s a week’s cruise and they go to different places, ports of call, and lots of shopping. You might like that.”

“How do I book?”

“It’s right there in the advertisement. Just click. Any luck, they won’t just teleport you onboard.”

“Where are they? Can I see?”

“Oh yeah, it’s right there.” She stood up, and she and Barton went to the window. “There it is, the starship Enigma.” It was colossal, definitely cruise-ship-shaped, but floating above the surface of the moon. “It must be the length of—”

“A county.”

She flipped the booklet open. “I’m going to do it.”

“Sounds like a plan. Send me a note when you return.”

“Okay.”

She pressed the buy button, entered her code, and then was about to say something else when she and her luggage all vanished.

Barton smiled, took another sip, then tossed his cup in a bin that thanked him for it and walked back out.

A massive glass-walled conference room aboard a futuristic spaceship. A woman in a black dress and a towering crab-like humanoid sit at a sleek table. Outside the window, Earth and the Moon hover in the distance, while a mysterious agent leans back in his chair, watching their reaction.

The Monster of Blueberry Falls, Chapter 9

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

The smell of popcorn filled the air as they ran through the green space in the middle of the park. People were scattering left and right, police or guards chased them at every angle and for the first time, Janet saw a soldier, dressed in green, carrying a rifle.

Behind him, we’re three or more soldiers and a Humvee. It looked like they were just coming in.

“This way, everyone, we must evacuate.” It was over a speaker, Janet couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from, but she could see people were being gathered behind a barrier as the military was coming in. 

A drone, small with a camera, was following them, buzzing through the trees, low. It didn’t slow Wen down. He jumped and thrashed through the trees, putting as much distance between them as he could.

Janet held Wen close. She looked back. She saw a tank tearing its way through the park’s front gate, and she held Wen closer around his waist, reaching up to hug him around the chest as best she could without falling off.

The park security was still helping, running to the other side as the military came in, but they were rushing out of the room, and she could see that pretty soon they met the corner.

She yelled into his ear, “that way, get to the tower.”

He jumped into a pond full of koi, and splashed his way through it, then stared down the drone, smacking it with a claw. It splashed into the water, and then they came out the other side as a rocket shot from a tube from one soldier and past them, exploding the front facade of blueberry falls.

It exploded in a giant fireball. The entire entrance caved in, and she could see all those clocks, trying to go off as they were melting, burning, and falling. Then the roof caved in with a kawoosh. Dust and fire flew from the front as the fireball rolled in slow motion, and the front caved in, crashing down.

They jumped, flying out over a fence, and through a garden on his way through to where two older rides here were. They felt exposed, a great roller coaster, a rickety wooden monster called Whiplash Fever, and a tower-style free fall ride that Janet had only ridden once before. It went up a hundred-fifty feet, just a circle of seats that rotated up and gave you a panoramic view of the area. When you were at the top, you could see the ocean. She hated it, and she knew it would be the last, the endgame. They would get cornered there, but there was no place left she could think of, no clever direction, or a place she could think of to hide him anymore. At last, there they went.

He got to the base of the tower and another rocket flew right by them, blasting into the big wooden coaster, sending it up into flames,

“Come on, big guy, just one last to climb.”

“Okay.”

He jumped on the tower and climbed over the seats. Everything was off, and it was dark. Tanks were moving in, and keeping aim, but not shooting yet.

He looked up at the top. Far from water, far from everything. He’d come here from who knew where. His mind was fuzzy. But this woman. He’d do anything. He clamped onto a series of cables on the side of the tower and began the climb, with Janet up on his shoulder, holding on.

He climbed onto the cables, anywhere he could find purchase, and used the side of a steel ladder out here for whoever might ever have to climb this thing.

He made it up past the trees, and could feel the warmth of Janet’s skin on his, and hugged her to him, then went back to climbing. Occasionally a shot would ring out from a soldier, and several of them were using bullhorns calling for them to come down, let the girl go, and turn themselves in. Every time Janet said to keep going, keep going up. Don’t listen to them.

Before long, they passed where they could hear anyone below. It was just the two of them in the wing. First so many feet, they could see the surrounding park, now filled with the US army. She could see her apartment because they climbed and climbed until they could see houses around the park. Drones surrounded them. They all looked like they were just filming, but they also looked, some of them, like they could take a shot. She wasn’t sure why they hadn’t fired a rocket at the base and just taken them down, but she did her best just to concentrate on holding on. It was getting windy enough up here.

Wen swatted a drone getting too close, and it went teetering to the ground and crashed into the vase. They were already so high that it didn’t matter. When it hit the bottom, they couldn’t hear it.

About halfway up, the drone just sucked and backed off and they were alone. He climbed and climbed, taking her to the top, knowing when they got to the top, it was as far as they could go. Options were rapidly decreasing, and they were both higher than either of them could fall and survive. He trudged, carrying Janet, his love, until they made it to the top.

It was larger up there than either of them suspected. The top had a nice flat fade to stand on, even with a railing. It wasn’t completely secure, but it was better than being on the side. He climbed over the railing and he and Janet rolled onto their faces and caught their breath.

“This is it,” said Wen.

“I know.”

“You could have given me up down there and gotten away.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted every moment, I could have with you.”

“I love you.”

She kissed him on the top of that tower and held him and his clawed hands close as the sound of the helicopters arrived. They could hear the soft thump of the rotors.

They stood together, knowing it was their last moment, and waiting for the end, that blast from one of these black helicopters when one of them approached close and extend a ladder, and a short man no taller than four feet, with a thick brown beard, and a dark suit on, wearing thick reddish black goggles dropped to the roof.

“Miss Janet?” He offered a hand. He was smiling, and it seemed genuine, so she took it. He waved to Wen. “You are kind of hard to catch, my friend. Thanks, Barton,” said Wen.

“You know him?”

Wen shrugged. “We’ve met. Barton isn’t here to help us, you know. Yes, nice, but he means business.”

“I’m afraid it’s true. There’s nowhere to go. I can get you off this tower without you crashing to your death, and I can get you out of here alive if you just let me take you.”

“What will happen to us?”

“Well, big guy, you know where I have to take you.”

“Bacon?”

“Yeah.”

“And Janet?”

“That depends on her. If you both go quietly, we’ll do a debriefing with her and see where it goes from there.”

“Can I visit him?”

“At Bacon? You want to just go with him?”

“What’s Bacon? A breakfast nook? Probably not right?”

“It’s kind of…”

“Space prison,” said Wen.

“That’s putting it a little bluntly. It is more like a place he can be himself without having to hide.”

“Where no one else can see him, right?”

“He’d disappear, yeah.”

The wind picked up. The helicopters were getting a little close. Janet’s dress was flying all around her.

She hugged her crab man and kissed him again.

“Or we could just blow up the tower with y’all on it.”

“Shut up.”

“Take us up,” said Wen. “I’ll go, just don’t hurt her.”

“Good idea. Let’s get off this tower then, right?”

He smiled and waved to the helicopter ladder hanging by them. You first, m’lady, then the big guy. I’ll be right behind you.

They climbed the ladder, which seemed even less stable than any of their previous climb. It was rubbery, yet strong, and it held its weight fine, but the view with nothing around them wasn’t comforting. The noise of the helicopter made talking nearly impossible.

When Janet reached the top, Barton held out a hand to help her in.

“But, you were…” she looked down. He wasn’t behind them.

“Sorry,” he said. “I can do that.”

He took a bulky headset with a thick blue foam microphone and showed them a seat where she could sit and strap in.

Then, as Wen clambered into the helicopter, again, Barton helped him in and showed him to a seat next to Janet.

Then the helicopters turned to leave, and in the lead of them all, she watched out the open door, his claw in her hand as her town went by under them. She saw her apartment go by again, the store she liked, a shopping center, and a swimming pool. There were quite a lot of swimming pools. They crossed out over the ocean and turned. Going low, she assumed they were heading for a base or something.

She watched people on the beach, tons of swimmers in the water, dark shadows, and sharks. There were more sharks than people, but they seemed not to notice each other down there.

The strip of hotels and sunbathers fell away and became homes, big expensive mansions on the ocean, and more pools, and then she realized that instead of getting lower they were getting higher.

“Where are we going?”

“Up.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“Why Thank you.” He smiled at her. “Not long now.”

We looked out the window at the sea, then the doors opened in front of them in the sky. A doorway, long and wide, easily large enough to land all these helicopters in, opened wide out of nowhere.

They set down, and the rotors came to a halt above them as the others came in and landed nearby.

She went to the edge, with Barton close behind. “What is this?”

“A ship.”

“What kind? This is crazy.”

“You’re in love with an eight-foot-tall crab man.”

“I see your point.”

“Come on, they’ll close the doors in a second.”

Lights blinked on the left and right sides of the bay doors. Sir, she stepped back, and they closed her in.

“Come on, this way.”

She followed Barton and found Wen’s arm again.

“Up here.”

They followed him into a glass elevator and rode up a couple of floors to a conference room made of glass. They could see the bay full of helicopters, and other things she wasn’t sure of, and on the other side, the open sea. There was a large triangular emblem on the floor made of a slowly spiraling inward series of triangles. The tables were made of glass, and there was a wide range of chairs around.

“I’m in a flying invisible aircraft carrier. This is stupid like I’m in some kind of movie.”

“It’s not an aircraft carrier,” said Barton. He dropped into a chair by the big table, as did Wen. She couldn’t tear herself away from the window.

Wen and Barton exchanged a look, then they watched Janet as the sea quickly vanished in a single whoosh. You could barely feel the ship moving, but a second’s worth of blur later and they were looking at the earth. The moon was off to the right.

“What the actual hell?”

A small spacecraft drifts toward a massive black hole, its gravitational pull distorting light. A dying star collapses nearby, sending spirals of golden energy into the abyss. The lone astronaut inside watches as the unknown awaits.

Longevity, Chapter 8: 3600

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

I hate new ships. Especially this one. It’s kind of a lonely place, pretty much on autopilot for so very long. I’ve spent years and years in and out of cryogenic stasis just to make sure the food supply doesn’t run out.

For the longest time, I worked off of what was in the freezers. Designed to last a crew of two hundred for fifty years, I lasted longer than that before I’d eaten everything I could stand in there, and some of the rest. I’ve picked at it for the last couple of hundred years, but mostly, I just tend the garden now.

I call the ship my garden.

It’s cool, and nice most of the time unless the sprinklers are on. The irrigation pipes can only do cold water, and there’s usually a short when I start it up. All part of the challenge, though. I’ve worked out most of the kinks and removed anything that got waterlogged before. I’ve planted hundreds of trees in here, directly into the substrate of the ship. There’s plenty of refuse that I’ve turned into perfect compost, so nothing is lacking there. I’ve also ripped out the floor in most of the rooms and installed sunlamps and started growing as much food as I can figure out how to grow.

I’ve got a field of corn on the third deck, and I’ve transformed the aquatic center into a giant lake full of cranberries. I’ve got orange trees, and I’ve got a good number of insects too to help me keep things going. The stings hurt at first, but I’ve toughened my skin with serious wrinkles and injections in the last few years, and pretty much nothing breaks the skin anymore.

I also started walking with a cane. Imagine that. I’m feeling old. I don’t know if it’s the abuse of being alone for so long or the fact that the air in the ship is smelling like stale, moldy bread, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

The computer at the front started clicking a countdown about a week ago. I almost didn’t notice it. The ship is moving so fast it’s almost incredible, but out there in space, you can hardly tell. Occasionally we go by a planet, but it’s usually only visible for a day or so. I got to where I liked to chart them. I’d record every channel of their television and radio, and take as many pictures as I could before we went too far, download as much of their Internet as I could, that kind of thing.

It would give me something to do for a few years at least.

I’ve probably documented a dozen civilizations in various levels of development. On a few planets, there were only cave people. On another, there was a fantastic bronze age going on. A few words were like they were in the 1980s. They never saw me coming or going.

None of them did.

The countdown, though. That got my interest.

I tapped the screen with my cane, really a dead and polished branch from one of the oak trees I planted in the main cargo hold.

A message appeared on the screen saying, “Stop that.”

I waved it off. The ship tended to do this kind of thing. As its virtual prisoner, I had lost interest years before.

“Jacob,” said the computer.

“What?”

“We’re coming up on it soon.”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about anymore.”

“It’s fairly spectacular.”

I knocked on the computer monitor with my stick. It shattered the screen, but everything continued to work.

“Well, what’s that got to do with my tomatoes, then? Eh?” I yelled and staggered around. I started crawling on the floor where I had a patch of pumpkins growing in a bed I’d made of an emergency escape hatch.

I started weeding, with my fingers, just to show the computer something I could still do with my hands that it could never do.

I was pulling out some clovers that must have come over from another patch on my shoes not too long ago. When I felt it, I had been trying to grow four-leaf clovers.

It was kind of lurch in my stomach. It had been so long since I’d felt the effects of slowing down that I hardly realized that we had come almost to a complete stop. The stars don’t blaze past you when you’re going at this speed, so I could have gone for weeks without realizing we weren’t moving if I’d been asleep when the computer slowed us down.

We’d arrived.

It took the ship another hour and a half to move us around so that I could see the black hole that was currently sucking in an enormous binary cousin in a fantastic blaze of swirling light. Not that I could see it, just the material flowing toward the event horizon.

“Now that’s interesting.”

I pushed up with my stick and limped over to the viewing screens.

“That what I think it is? A computer?”

“It’s a class six black hole eating a red giant. Together, they will start a supernova in a couple of minutes. The ship should protect you just fine.”

“Is this it? What I was supposed to see?”

“It is.”

“I gotta get a better look than this, don’t I?”

I tossed down my stick and ambled for the elevator and took it down to where the life pods were.

“Jacob?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just getting a better look, right?”

The doors opened, and I stepped out into the pod bay. There were six pods, and I routinely used two of them, just to make sure more than one of them worked all the time. I used them to go out and get space junk, rocks, and meteors that hit the ship occasionally it. The arms were really strong.

The room, however, was a small jungle. I hadn’t done this for a while. I’d miss it, but I had to get out there.

The pods were little one-person jobs, about ten feet tall, and looked like little egg people with large open faces on the front where the windscreen was, and they were surrounded in the tightest brush that I could plant in here. I’d flooded the place a time or two and trucked in as much dirt as I could manage, and had made the place as swampy as I could make it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that there might be a crocodile living down here somewhere. But it just wasn’t possible. If I’d had one thought, the place would be perfect.

Ah well.

Time to get out there.

I crossed the swamp, caring nothing for drenching myself up to my knees, and trudged out to the pods. They were also covered in slime and muck, but that would soon be over. I wiped one clean until I could see the original white and red finish under all the swamp slime, and opened the back of it, pressing a button at the base. The back door of the pod slid open, and I clambered inside.

I hit a small hand pad by the door and it closed behind me. Suddenly I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the pod warming up and remembered again that these things were soundproof. I pressed another switch, and the pod swung around toward the door. This was no easy feat since the way this room worked. The entire floor shifted around to move the pod to the front of the bay, taking most of the swamp with it. Trees were flung around, and water went everywhere, and this was before the door moved.

There was a hum.

Then everything in the room, all the water, all the trees and branches, and all the debris, started shooting out of the pod bay like a pitcher of tea filled with broccoli poured into a vacuum. It expanded, bubbled, and flew from the ship, then I lifted off, and whooshed outside.

Behind me, the computer was yelling something, but I had already tuned it out.

I jetted out of the ship and turned to face the black hole. It was so massive and beautiful as it was picking its neighboring sun that I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. Vaguely, I wondered if I could starve out here just looking at it. I punched the accelerator on my pod, and then sat back. There was a good bit of room in here, though it was little more than a work pod, it was a little roomy. You could last out here for days if you had an enormous job to do, and I had frequently.

I zoomed toward the black hole. I was going thousands of miles an hour. At this scale, it was hardly moving, but I pushed it up as fast as it would go. I hadn’t done that in a long time, and while you couldn’t see much change in the viewports, you could tell that you were moving some. I was close enough for that.

I watched the fuel. It said I had three days at this speed. I pushed it up higher. By now I knew I couldn’t go faster than I was going and that just stopping the rockets without firing the retros would keep me at this speed indefinitely.

I chose not to stop them.

Behind me, the rockets blazed out and hours later, the lights flickered around me. Then the engines cut out. I was closer than I thought. I could already feel the pull of the black hole beside my original speed, and I was falling into it fast, and picking up more speed on the way.

With the last bit of power I had left, I sent the pod into a gentle spin so that I could see the black hole from different angles. Then the power went out almost entirely.

Dim red lights replaced the bright ones inside the pod, and it reduced me to life support only. I checked the console, and it said I’d have about three days at this level unless help arrived. The pod’s computer offered to send a distress call for me.

I declined.

Sooner than I expected, the lights went out, and even so, the oxygen and heat remained.

I was alone with only the light of the binary system in front of me, and no way to turn around and see the ship one more time.

A few hours later, that failed, and I was alone.

From there, I just fell.

There was no power.

It was me and the stars, and I saw a little twinkle.

It wasn’t much, just a flash really between the star and the black hole in front of me. I couldn’t tell quite what it was, but I could tell that it was some kind of ship, hovering there.

“Now that’s interesting,” I said and promptly lost consciousness from the sheer cold of space around me and the fact that I’d depleted almost all the oxygen that was left in the little cabin.

I didn’t expect to awaken ever again.

I closed my eyes, and hit the floor, but didn’t hit because gravity failed and I was floating there in the middle of the pod when it fell into the gravitational power of the black hole for eternity three days later.

When I opened my eyes, it was so bright I couldn’t see.

I felt like I was lying on a hill covered in perfectly cut grass, the smell of the recent clippings getting into my nose.

I felt peaceful and serene.

I let the light of the sun or a moon or some distant star I didn’t know play on the back of my eyelids.

There was no pain in my body.

I was home.

On the ship, now a lifetime and a million miles away from me, the computer was calling my name. It had a syringe for me. A bi-centennial booster, it was offering to extend my life another umpteen years.

There was no one to take it, and no one to tell the computer to put it away, either. Eventually, it ran itself out of power, asking if I’d like the shot before it too fell into the black hole and out of the universe with me.

With a breath that was sweet and invigorating, I opened my eyes.