Insomnia

43

Their walk through the spaceport was uncomfortable, to say the least.

Esme stood out as one of the only people wearing a mask. Inside the expansive lunar dome, there was no contaminated air. Despite Devoe's protests, she refused to take it off.

"I don't feel right without it," whispered Esme, as they stepped out of the wide transport craft. The floor was crowded with people - mostly service workers, but a few ordinary travellers spilled out into the mix. They wore space boots and long sweeping coats. Light from the round bulbs overhead reflected inside the shimmery textures of their clothing, splashing like water as they walked and the fabric rustled. Esme guessed their clothes were multicolored. She tried to guess what shades they might be.

They stared as she walked by, so visibly Earthling. Esme tried to ignore the whispers. So many people - real, people - in one place. It was beautiful.

"Elitist pricks," Devoe hissed. "Think they're so much better than us because they don't live in the filth."

"I don't know about that," said Esme, as they left the hangar and entered a clean, commercial terminal. Shops and restaurants lay on all sides of the winding hallways. Space was at a considerable premium here - so most were the size of stalls. "I don't think they know how to feel about us. We're a reminder of what happened. This settlement's only about sixty years old. Most of these people probably had family on Earth. Besides, didn't you used to live here?"

"Wasn't born here," she grumbled, before dropping the issue, "and I sure didn't get to stick around for too long."

Esme stared in wonder at the crowd of open faces. Old, young, light, dark. She'd seen sights like this in Somnus. But as much as Somnus tried to mimic the real world, there was always something missing. Little blurs where the picture was incomplete. Missing some vital element.

A short bus ride brought them to the city of Hope. Genetically modified fungi glowed atop concrete sidewalks, supplementing the feeble sunlight. Hope was small enough that few people drove their own cars. A single subway system connected each sector of the city. The buildings were made mostly of glass. Their foundations were hexagonal in shape and twisted into even stranger geometries, all to maximize the limited space allotted to them.

The blast-proof dome that protected the settlement from the elements of space was constructed in many layers. But even the shortest of these lay beyond her sight. Starlight from above blurred as it pierced her visor, casting the sky in a molten glow.

This world was sharp. Vivid. Unflinching and real. This was how things were supposed to be. Esme hadn't realized how empty her home was. Her city was dead and buried in a tomb of sand. This place hummed with life beneath a canopy of stars.

"Esme," Devoe whispered, "something's wrong. These people seem really uneasy."

Esme broke from her thoughts and paid closer attention to the murmur beneath the crowd. It was a low drumroll of whispers, building upon itself relentlessly. Fear blared like trumpets.

There were no masks for her to inhabit here, but Esme sensed a few touchpads buzzing data through the air.

"Hold onto me," she said, leaning on Devoe's metallic arm. "I'm going to try Halfsleep."

The cyborg nodded, and supported her as she laid her head down and fell away from consciousness.

A rainbow of fireworks. So many people. Beautiful.

Esme looked closer. Unease. The explosive lights hung in the air for too long, almost blinding in intensity. She snaked a thought probe towards one of the touchpads. From there, Esme listened in on the silent, tapping typing conversations buzzing across the terminal.