Siren Solus

1

Ahhh, silence! Sweet, sweet solitude. I strived long and hard for this. Solitude for most eventually lead to insanity, but for me it was liberation.

The Awakening was a boon for the Sol Commonwealth. A virus, originally built for harm, ironically mutated into something extraordinary. It unlocked in people what we would have called magic. For most this magic was weak, good for little more than party tricks or a spark in the night. But for a few it was truly powerful. Each had their unique blessing.

But I was cursed. My ability was to read the thoughts of others. That would appear to be wondrous as I also originally believed, but I could not turn it off. My mind was constantly invaded with the noise of random thoughts. I was drowning in a mental sea.

I had a goal: to pilot a survey spaceship through unexplored planetary systems far outside of the reaches of occupied worlds. I studied and trained to qualify. It was a lonely job that few desired but me. The commonwealth was sympathetic to my plight and appreciated the lower cost of a one man crew, so they granted my wish.

I began my task at once, dashing from system to system in search of resources and planets that could be terraformed, much like explorers of the old Earth. Soon several promising worlds were tagged. It was odd that I just seemed to know what direction to go. My overseers were impressed with my efficiency and gave me the freedom to alter the preprogrammed flight plan as I saw fit.

I began to feel a presence, very faint at first but growing slowly in a long crescendo. The song was sweet and eventually intoxicating. The singer seemed to be pleased that I could hear her song. It came from somewhere in the far reaches of the galactic arm. So far that I would barely have fuel enough to reach, let alone to return home.

Intoxication became addiction. I had to get more of the high. I set course for the song's source and engaged it once I was unable to choose otherwise. My overseers pleaded with me to stop this madness, but I just silenced them. They probably believed that the solitude led to insanity even for me.

As I drew nearer the song began to fill the depths of my soul. I believed now that the singer wished to consume me, lest she herself perish. But the song became everything and I could not resist the call.

And now my starship laid broken on a cold rocky world in a far remote section of the galaxy. The song had stopped and my sanity returned, wrenching me with feelings of both withdrawal and desolation. She was here, somewhere. A horrible scraping sound sent shivers up my spine.

There, scratched into the iced window was a message: I called. You came.