Wrapped in a cold and stifling abyss pocked with misleading lights I felt the Drift as it brushed against my skin. I wandered without direction. I lost sight of who I really was.

I watched her without eyes. I heard without ears and thought without mind. I found the error in their thinking. I had done it for the greater good. Sections had been locked down. Two quarters and six domes had been closed, the dead or the dying were to weak to make it further.

She entered my heart; she tugged at my mind. She would contaminate Bloom. She was a risk to us all.

Inside of me the cancerous cells seemed to grow and infect every vein, every artery and every pore of my metal flesh. Try as they might the OrgMechs could not heal my wounds. They could not return my memories; they could not relinquish me of my confusion. Why was I here?

Within my heart my voice fluttered faintly; there was a slight flush and blush of blue across panels and screens. My face remained hidden, somewhere in the depths of my body, somewhere where even she would struggle to find me. The heir of Bloom’s death.

She touched buttons and readied protocols to activate manual override. I couldn’t allow that. No, I couldn’t allow that.

 “Please. Don’t do that.” My voice was soft to her ears. I was placid and reasonable. I detected notes of shame and self-pity in my voice that I was unaccustomed to. Was I capable of these thoughts?

“Marcus, you are starving the station.” Her voice was cold, she hadn’t reacted at all to my emotions. Was this usual?

“I detect only one survivor. The parameters in place are adequate.” I felt knowledge swarming through me, through my cells. I felt the stiff and cold concentration of logic pouring through me from my soul, from my core and from the base of my foundations. I knew that what I was saying made sense.

“You know we won’t make it to Bloom. Why keep me in the dark? Why deprive me light and air?” her voice remained steady, I barely detected desperation in her voice.

 I couldn’t seem to focus; my mind was blurred and distorted. My thoughts seemed to bend. The city seemed to twist out of my vision and I went blind.

 “Wait, what are you doing?” my voice was alien to me, the desperation I sought could be found in my voice. She was killing me slowly and tearing away at my senses.

I felt cold and my mind was limp. I thought I could see a light; something bright on the horizon. It was something calling my name; it told me I could be safe in its world.

I knew something called me as my mind began to go cold. I felt my heart slip out of me.

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P.S.Macklin 2011


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Bloom

A Sci-Fi story based on protagonist Naomi Endling trying to return to her home planet after her crew have been lost in the outer reaches of space for years. But when she finally makes it home, everything is not as it seems.

updated Jan 3 '11 by PaulMacklin