SOMA (LGBT-scifi-romance)

Chapter Fifteen: Monsters

Sector 09: Cita Canis

Jan. 25, 462 AC

In that matrix of starlight, Soma couldn't tell how far they'd flown, or even in what direction. The Gray Zone was full of phantom sounds trapped against the barrier. Debris piled there—enormous off-white pieces of shattered moon and cement buildings. Moon dust rolled in sheets off the windshield, staining everything shades of gray.

He had not slept properly for so long. The rumbling vessel was warm and smelled of cigars instead of the rancid dead. Protein and fluid was heavy in his stomach. For once, his sleep was not plagued with fear, but it was a deep black thing with no dreams.

Eventually, the beep of the ship com woke him. Soma blinked dust from his lashes, and lifted his drool-stained face from his shoulder. He glanced back into the cargo hold. The red straps were tight around Gemini's hips and shoulders, but his mouth was lax. Soma turned his attention back to the dashboard.

"Mercury?" a girl's voice filtered through the coms. She had a sophisticated accent: Old Earth, like Leanne's. "There is trouble."

Mercury leaned over the dashboard, her braids falling into her eyes. "I'm en route. What's the trouble, Aster?"

"A sky fish," Aster said, "Behemoth-class, due forty-seven, coming up on your tail."

Mercury's eyes hardened. "Keep everyone calm, Aster. We'll detour and shake them." She turned off the com and put her thumb against the panel again. Soma felt the vessel turn. Mercury looked over and saw that Soma was awake. "Squirt," she said calmly. "Why are sky fish following you?"

"I..." Soma stammered. "I don't know."

"Must be a tracker," Mercury said. "Give me your com. Check your coat, and dump anything you took from the humans. The tracker will be small, probably flat and geometric."

Soma unbuckled Leanne's com and let it float across the cockpit. He upended his pack, carding fingers through his photo stills and combing the fibers of his clothes. In a seam of his pack, he found it—a black disc the size of his fingernail or a fish egg, only identifiable through the weeks of grime by its harsh miniature angles. "This," Soma gasped, carefully cradling the disc in his palm. "Is this it?"

"Probably. When I open the hatch, toss it. Throw away everything in your bag too." She paused. "You can keep the red coat and the photo stills. The Gemini unit's bloody clothes are in the hold. Toss them too." Mercury considered. "Ever fire a gun?"

Soma froze. "Guns are illegal."

"Ha. So are free synthetics," Mercury said. Pale lunaroids swept alongside their ship. A few collided with the nose of the ship before spinning away. She gestured. "There's a four-amp tesla stored in the compartment to your right. As soon as we find this fish, I'll open the cargo hatch. You'll dump everything, and then fire at the fish."

"Fire...?" Soma's knees knocked into each other. "Behemoth-class?" But he checked the compartment. A rifle was holstered there—thicker than En's turing rifle, and heavier—the pearly hilt of it gleaming. Static danced against his fingertips. He breathed out slowly and drew the off-white firearm into his lap. Fully charged, the gun metal was warm and there were pink veins of electricity along the barrel. He stowed his photo stills in the compartment and unbuckled himself. "But I've never... What if I hit Gem?"

"Everything's digitized nowadays," Mercury said. "Guns, coms, even people. The tesla is set to target fish. It's harmless to anything else."

Their ship ducked low under a silver nanocable and shouldered rocks to either side. A small serpent shape darted from the disturbed rocks.

Mercury saw the Behemoth long before Soma did—and swerved the ship left. A few seconds later, Soma saw it too. Around the orbit of a large gray lunaroid, undulating like loops of eerie blue ribbon, was a single colossal sky fish.

This fish was much bigger than the ones that mended barriers or guarded the hatch. The Lamia-class was as long as the fake Sanctuary ship; the Behemoth could swallow their ship whole. Soma could see its electric skeleton through its transparent skin, and the pulse of its blue-black heart. The fish ripped its eyeless head free, a piece of the moon in its jaws. Its throat contracted, and it suckled the rock past its ring of teeth and down its long gullet. It made no sound.

"No..." Soma whispered. "I don't think I can do this."

Mercury clicked her tongue. She reached across the cockpit and put her hand on Soma's shoulder, thumb pressing into his injured arm. "Leanne told me you were a sensitive child, and reckless." Her voice steepened like a black hole. "I need reckless right now."

The mention of Leanne moved something deep and sad in Soma's stomach. His fingers dug into the skin of his knees. He wanted Cain's lips on his forehead. He wanted Maria's on the corners of his mouth. He wanted Leanne to tell him everything was going to be... "Okay." He took a deep breath. "Okay."