BY STACEY WARNER
Copyright is held by the author.
COSTA STRETCHED, rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder. He had sat too long in the pilot’s chair. He checked the dashboard, not expecting company. Nothing for aeons. There never was. The time between shipment drops always passed slowly. Galactic delivery providers paid above average, and the work was easy. It was also maddeningly dull and involved long stretches away from one’s home planet. The work was first advertised as an opportunity to see the universe, but the shine soon came off that front. Still, what sector hadn’t experienced financial turbulence in recent years? A guy’s got to eat at the end of the day.
“Autopilot engage.” The console flashed in acknowledgement. A heavy sigh escaped his chest, the only sign of life. He stood, heavy from sitting still for too long, and gazed out of the window. The endless sea of stars that once signalled hope now felt like a bottomless pit you’d tumble down for all eternity. He grimaced. Too long in isolation made a person’s thoughts grim.
He had a ship mate, but Davin tended to work with the stock: premium neo-silicones, completely mouldable and tough. Meanwhile Costa steered the ship, daydreaming of the paycheck and life back on earth with the vastness of space before him. Davin was a strange sort, but then working relationships built in the vastness of space were never entirely normal. Heck. You had to be a bit abnormal to take this job in the first place. That or desperate.
As he approached the doors of the deck, they opened silently. This silent tech was supposed to be a marvel of technology but sometimes Costa wished for some sort of sound. Anything. The corridors of the ship were galactic salesman standard. Clinical. White. Nothing to distract you from the job at hand. Some past worker had clearly had a sense of humour and stuck up a “Hang in there kitty!” poster on the door to the sleeping quarters. Poor cat. Destined to hang there forever . . . Christ. He needed human company badly.
The quarters were empty. Davin presumably still on the lower levels. Costa’s calendar caught his eye. It was a paper one hung on the wall and, along with a stack of crossword books, a way of feeling connected to earth. The calendar made him feel as though time was passing normally and he enjoyed the tactile nature of holding a crossword book in his hands while keeping his mind sharp. He checked his watch. The calendar was wrong, time had passed and it was a new day. He took it off the wall and flipped the page hanging it back up. 31st October. Halloween back on earth.
Huh. Fancy that.
He took a decanter from his bedside. Marking the earth holidays with a drink was his tradition. The little moment of normality in corporate hell. He poured two glasses and went in search of his colleague. As usual, Davin was in the cargo hold. It was filled with rows of giant cases covering the precious neo-materials they were selling across the system. On the back wall were rows of desks for packaging supplies, but Davin had long taken this area over for his pet project. Laying on the table was a model of a human woman, made from the silicone she was reminiscent of a marble statue. Davin was hunched over, sculpting her features, with a laser pen.
“It’s Halloween,” stated Costa.
Davin didn’t move, his concentration entirely on the figure’s face. Costa took a step closer. As he passed the last shipping container, he saw the two smaller, child-like creations standing against the cargo. He shuddered at the lifeless but detailed features Davin had given them. Freaky shit. But then he’d never really understood art. And you got to do what you got to do to stay sane.
“I brought you a drink.” He placed the tumbler on the table with a thud. Davin’s hand steadied just above the mouth. His own leathery brow furrowed. “You could stop for a second,” continued Costa, taking a swig of his own glass. The liquor burned his throat. It hadn’t aged well on their journey, but it was better than nothing.
Davin grunted but turned the laser off and put it down on the mat.
“I needed to fix her smile. She looked sad.” Davin’s voice was rough and gravelly. He always had the countenance of someone who hadn’t slept in a millennium and survived entirely on cigarettes and instant coffee.
“I think she’s pretty.”
“I didn’t say she’s not pretty,” replied Davin bluntly. “I said I needed to fix her smile. It never looked like that in real life. She was a happy person.”
Costa’s brow furrowed, “Wait. This is a real woman? Who is she?”
They locked eyes, Davin’s gaze appraising before he looked down into the tumbler.
“Was. She was my wife.”
“Oh.”
Costa stared at the detail on the woman’s face, his gut twisting. This new detail made her lifeless expression more haunting than ever. A cold feeling trickled down his spine, and he turned slowly to look at the children.
“Yeah, that would be correct,” confirmed Davin before swigging a good mouthful of the scotch, his mouth a thin line.
“I’m so sorry,” stammered Costa. “I had no idea.. I . . .”
Davin grunted in response. Costa swallowed hard. It’s funny how you could spend all this time floating through the cosmos with someone without really knowing them. He reached for something comforting to say.
“You know, my late Grandma always said that Halloween is when the veil is at its thinnest and we’re closest to the dead. She would always tell stories of the people she’d lost, to keep their spirit alive and welcome them home if they came back. I don’t know how the veil works in space, but if you wanted to talk –“ Davin silenced Costa with a sharp look. “I just thought —”
“Well don’t. I don’t give a shit about your fairy tales Costa. I am keeping them alive. Neo-silicone is near indestructible and I’m preserving them. A work that you’ve so kindly interrupted.”
Costa, winded at the sudden fierceness of Davin’s rejection, looked at him silently searching for words. Davin fired the laser pen back to life and got to work.
“Right. Cool. Well. I’ve set the ship to auto, so I’mma get some shut eye. See you tomorrow, yeah?” Costa got up slowly as Davin grunted in response. He left the room quickly, stopping only to shudder at the childlike forms that now seemed to stare at him unblinkingly in some unspoken accusation.
Corporate were gonna have a bitch fit when they realised some of their materials were missing. But it wasn’t Costa’s problem, he just piloted the ship. Besides, he weren’t gonna tell a man how to grieve.
In the quarters, Costa got himself ready for bed. Just before sleep, he ripped a completed page out of his crossword book and cut it with some scissors. It wasn’t the same as the real deal, but he hung the paper shape of a jack o’ lantern above his pod with a smile.
“Happy Halloween Grandma. Thinking of you.” He started to climb into bed but hesitated. “Happy Halloween also . . . sorry I don’t know your names. Davin’s family. Thinking of you, too.”
He pulled the sheet up tight and dozed off.
***
Creaking doors give way. His stomach plummets, cold and icy. Creaking? On this ship? The cockpit warps as he stands, like a drunkard on sea ship. The trickling feeling of fear grips him as he reaches the corridor.
It twists and lengthens. Distorts. His stomach twists with it as he steps, shaking. Heart racing. The sound of children playing cuts through the creaks. Where? He turns but the world streaks slowly, his eyes a slow shutter lens.
Nearby, he can sense them. He knows. He just knows. They’re out of reach, but his legs won’t move. He looks down and his vision clears. A scream cuts through him. He jerks his gaze up and dead into the eyes of a woman.
Hey eyes are lifeless. Her skin is pallid but shimmers with oceanic bruising. Her skeleton too close to the surface. She points at Costa. He looks behind but there is no one else there.
She whispers. “Find me.”
He tries to move his feet, but they are fixed to the floor, his legs no longer his own to command.
She is louder now, “Find me.”
He goes to speak but his throat is dry like hay, flaking inside. His jaw screwed shut by horror.
Her eyes widen, stretched beyond the limits of humanity. Her mouth stretches, a demonic black hole. She howls a ghastly demented scream, face blazing with life and horror.
“I. AM. HERE.”
***
Costa sat up panting, drenched in sweat.
***
Costa sat in the pilot’s chair, eyes straining. Every night for a week was the same. He could use a sick day, exhaustion wreaking havoc with his system, but you don’t get sick days in space when there’s a delivery to make. Not unless you want to lose credits when the shipments late.
Sleep always came on with ease, but always the same woman ripped through his slumber. Sometimes she was with the children, but he always woke to her same scream: “I am here!”
His eyes started to fall closed but just before sleep could claim him, his ear burned with a whisper.
“Come find me.”
He whipped around. Nothing.
“God damnit!” he growled and rose from the chair. One more shipment and he was done. It wasn’t worth it. Long days in the pilots chair, a grumpy as fuck ship mate. Loneliness really does play tricks on a guy. There’s always a way to make more money but keeping your sanity is way more fickle.
He turned, looked at the doors and without him moving, they opened. “What the-“
A female voice called from the corridor.
“Come find me Costa. You called to me when the veil was thinnest. Now save me. Set me free.”
He shook his head, as though this infection in his consciousness could be shaken through his ear. But whatever it was had gripped him so fully that it was with an air of inevitability that he stepped towards the call. He peered around the corner of the corridor. The light flickered. For a heartbeat the two children laughed and played but with another flicker of the light they were gone. His pulse quickened at the glimpse of a hand trailing around the corner.
“Hello?!”
No reply. He swallowed hard and made his way round the corner, peering down the stairs. A siren call sang to him.
“I’m here Costa…”
He checked over his shoulder. No one. Frowning, he made his descent towards the voice. The cargo bay was quiet and still.
“Hello?” he called again. Nothing, just a deafening silence like pressure within his head. Suddenly he knew. Without thinking about it, he knew how to find her. He moved, fluid, a man possessed. Taking hold of the fire extinguisher at the entrance, he strode to the bench where Davin’s work lay on the table.
He stood over her, taut, eyes brimming and wide with terror, “It’s you, isn’t it?”
With a wretched yell, he slammed the fire extinguisher into her marble-like face. The tough neo-material held firm. He slammed again and again, until blood and sinews soared through the air, splattering his face. He shook his head, snapping out of the trance. Discarding the extinguisher he blinked, reality dawning. In the carefully chiselled face there was now a hole. Within that hole was a mess of fragments of skull, brain and an almighty stench.
“What the . . .”
“What have you done with my perfect wife?!” came the ghastly howl, Davin’s face warped with grief. Costa stared in horror at the figure.
“You weren’t creating their likeness — the bodies they’re —” but he didn’t get to finish the thought. The fire extinguisher slammed into the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
***
No apparitions disturbed him, yet Costa woke groggy and with a deep sense that something was terribly wrong. Through half closed eyelids, the room slowly came into view. His brow knitted together. Why was he in the pilot’s seat? Surely, he hadn’t fallen asleep at the wheel? He went to check the controls but realised in horror that he was immobilised.
“Neo-silicone’s sure are tough huh?” Davin sauntered into view. His tone was strained but his face curled with a demented joy.
Costa’s blood turned to ice as realisation slowly dawned on him. He’d been coated in the silicone, up to his neck, while he was out cold.
“Davin . . . why?”
“You ever have a dream, Costa? Mine was real simple. The perfect family. I had it. But perfection doesn’t last. When the global banks collapsed, I started taking extra shifts. You had to if you wanted to be a man, provide for your family. Well, the family I thought I had. One day my wife Carol decided she preferred someone else. Sexually.” He spat out the last word. “It was a mistake. I forgave her. But I had to do something to keep her and the family together.” A twisted warmth flushed his face. “They all looked so serene when I removed the pillow from each of their faces. I knew, you see, that I could preserve them in their perfect state forever. Just maintain the coating here and there. But what to do with me? As I grew old, I was less perfect, less deserving. That’s why I applied for this job. It’s not about the credits, not for me. Not anymore.”
He paused for a moment tapping his fingers on the console before continuing.
“I worried you might notice that we’ve been on the longer route. All the way out here, space is cold. So cold, you’d freeze instantly. None of that engorged with blood and guts shit. In just a few minutes, I’ll be out the airlock cable tied to my family. My perfect family. Immortalised together.”
Costa’s stomach churned. “You’re sick, Davin.”
A flash of sadness passed over Davin’s face.
“Yeah. I knew you wouldn’t get it. That’s why I’ve made sure you can’t stop me. You can’t ruin our happily ever after. You can try and talk me out of it, but you can’t prevent this.”
“No. Please Davin, I won’t stop you. But you can’t leave me here I’ll starve. I’ll, I’ll die.“
Davin paused as though considering it, “True. Yet, I don’t trust you Costa. What happens when you tell the cops? What if they retrieve the bodies and separate us? And what will the papers say? They’ll besmirch my happy ever after. You know what it is to be lonely Costa. I just want the happy ending my family deserve. The one we should have had.”
“I won’t tell, I’ll keep the secret, I swear —”
“Oh. You will. I’d do anything for my family Costa. And if that means you don’t make it, then so be it.” Davin pushed his face close to Costa’s, a demented and contorted joy fixing his face into a grotesque beam as he slid out of view.
The deck was no longer quiet as Costa’s howls filled the room. His heart racing, he listened for some sign that Davin had changed his mind but as he looked out the window, he knew his fate was sealed. He screamed until his throat was raw. For there in space, floating like statues in the Louvre, were two children, a woman, and the frozen corpse of a very happy man.
***
Stacey Michelle Warner is a queer human based in Stratford Upon Avon, U.K. They have a love for speculative fiction and stories that range from searing darkness to the essential nature of hope. For a few short years, they wrote for CulturedVultures.co.uk, at one point sitting in the role of Head of Lifestyle and Internet Culture. They’re pretty sure this was code for: You spend way too much time on your phone, get out and live more. Which they eventually did.