A monster emerges from the shadows. He is followed by another, and another, until the world is inhabited by new beasts of its own creation. This anthology incorporates stories from various genres and timelines, exploring what makes us who we are.
Putting it on, he drifts with her into the airlock chamber.
His uniform is multilayered yet compact and designed for smooth, easy movements in zero gravity despite the heavy oxygen tank suspended from his shoulders like a backpack. She hooks the safety line to his belt and retreats for the cockpit, shutting herself in again. The external door of the ship whooshes open—and he stares down eternity in a vacuum, this hole that is also a wall, the nude unfiltered vastness of deep space outstretched before him in a grand confusion of black with swirls of purple and dots of white.
It's too much, all of it, and he swallows hard.
One giant leap, he thinks.
He frowns because he never got to take the small step.
Chills lick up his arms.
The stars eye Zach, maybe lusting after him, because a few of them wink.
I have a girlfriend! he almost yells.
Now his face crumples, and he reminds himself to breathe.
Don't look down.
Hell, don't look up.
"Space guy?" pleads Tiff, voice jumbled, mechanical, in his earpiece.
Zach watches reticles flicker on the inside of his visor and keeps quiet.
He activates his suit's thrusters: jets encased in titanium that glow as they carry him along the curve of the ship, and he reaches the stranger and flings up a hand to wave, slow and weightless.
"Are you paralyzed?" demands Tiff.
"Wave back, fucker," mumbles Zach.
The galaxy is upon him.
It appears to smother him with its enormity, a blanket of magnetism and interstellar gas so light they become heavy and then light once more, trying to lift and drop him at the same time until he worries he'll explode and disperse in ribbons of blood and organs and cartwheeling bones.
The stranger waves.
Zach's anus unclenches.
A metallic tether extends from his suit.
The cord unravels in a wide S shape that approaches the stranger as he desperately paws at it, struggling not to lose his grip on the vessel.
"You're too quiet, space guy!" moans Tiff.
"I'm afraid to breathe," whispers Zach.
At last the stranger closes his fist around the tether, which he then hooks to his uniform.
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Pressing her ear against the door to the airlock, Tiff gulps.
"Zach?" She fidgets with her earpiece. "What's happening?"
