Read Online Future Lovecraft by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Anthony Boulanger, Paula R. Stiles - Free Book Online
Book: Future Lovecraft by Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Anthony Boulanger, Paula R. Stiles
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make you feel?” Then he closed his eyes. “I can’t help with this, Moremi. I’m sorry.”
I pulled away a half-centimeter, which was all I could do without plastering myself against the wall. “What do you mean? You’re the one who deals with the crazy. You’re telling me there’s no entry for this in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual? No little page of instructions in Mandarin, somewhere in the ship’s handbook? ‘By the way, if the whole crew goes batshit, here’s what you do....’” My voice cracked. That surprised me. I held my hands up to hide my face.
Mesfin’s voice had the kind of calm that you only get by doing a real good job of pretending to be calm when you’re not. “What do you think, Moremi? Do you think there are instructions for this?”
I didn’t want him to see my lip trembling. Like a little kid. “You’re the psychiatrist. Make something up.”
“I hear the voices, too, Moremi. Maybe they’re the stars. Maybe they’re a projection of my unconscious mind. My temporal lobes constructing a presence to block out the emptiness that’s really out there. How can I know? And if I don’t know, how can I give advice? Won’t I simply be repeating what the stars tell me? How can I say anything?”
“People are writing on the walls in blood. How can you not say anything?”
“I can’t say anything.” I expected him to show some emotion, to start waving his hands or trembling. He just sat there. Repeated it over and over. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
I stormed out. I cried in my cabin for a minute or two.
But so what? He showed me what not to be. I refuse to sit there, expressionless, while things fall apart. Even if my memory’s going and the stars are loud in my ears, I have to do something so we survive until Barnard’s Star. I have to, so I can.
Harmony I: Day 645
I am going to have a talk with Captain Hao.
It will be delicate. I can’t do it when someone else could be watching. And her door isn’t open, anymore. When I come by, she waves pages of Mandarin paperwork in my face. I have to wait for the right moment.
It’s awful, waiting. It drove me to distraction all day. Finally, I gave up and went to Henri.
He smirked the way he always smirked. “Ah, yes, love. I’ll give you something else to think of.” He pulled me close without waiting to see if I liked the idea or not. Half of me hated him for it and half of me wanted to kiss him until speech was not an option. I went with the kissing. Henri’s not all bad. His jaw is a good shape. His skin tastes salty, alive.
I’d kissed halfway down his neck before I realised I wasn’t thinking of those things. And, this time, not about Captain Hao, either. I was thinking of the pulse in his throat. Strong, heady, rhythmic, saltier than skin. The red, the life, hiding inside him. I wanted to touch that. To taste it.
I pulled back abruptly. Henri raised an eyebrow, not moving. He’s learned not to push.
You are ours, said the stars, suddenly loud in my ears. We can use you.
I put my hands over my ears. Henri tilted his head. “Moremi, what...?”
I shoved him away and ran back to my room.
I’m not crazy. Captain Hao’s the crazy one. I’ve always had these little uncomfortable moments. One time, I had a girlfriend back in Johannesburg who—
I don’t remember her name. I don’t remember what she did.
I remember it was awkward, though, and I came home and told Onalenna about it. Once told, it was funny. We laughed and laughed, and Onalenna said—
What did she say?
I can’t picture my sister’s face, anymore. I don’t know what she said. I don’t remember our mother’s name, only the stick of her wrist as she hugged me goodbye. I remember Onalenna’s last words to me: Don’t look back, Moremi. I’ll miss you, but....
But what?
I think I remember her voice. I think I remember it cracking. But I don’t remember my sister.
Harmony I: Day 646
I don’t remember what I said when I
I pulled away a half-centimeter, which was all I could do without plastering myself against the wall. “What do you mean? You’re the one who deals with the crazy. You’re telling me there’s no entry for this in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual? No little page of instructions in Mandarin, somewhere in the ship’s handbook? ‘By the way, if the whole crew goes batshit, here’s what you do....’” My voice cracked. That surprised me. I held my hands up to hide my face.
Mesfin’s voice had the kind of calm that you only get by doing a real good job of pretending to be calm when you’re not. “What do you think, Moremi? Do you think there are instructions for this?”
I didn’t want him to see my lip trembling. Like a little kid. “You’re the psychiatrist. Make something up.”
“I hear the voices, too, Moremi. Maybe they’re the stars. Maybe they’re a projection of my unconscious mind. My temporal lobes constructing a presence to block out the emptiness that’s really out there. How can I know? And if I don’t know, how can I give advice? Won’t I simply be repeating what the stars tell me? How can I say anything?”
“People are writing on the walls in blood. How can you not say anything?”
“I can’t say anything.” I expected him to show some emotion, to start waving his hands or trembling. He just sat there. Repeated it over and over. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”
I stormed out. I cried in my cabin for a minute or two.
But so what? He showed me what not to be. I refuse to sit there, expressionless, while things fall apart. Even if my memory’s going and the stars are loud in my ears, I have to do something so we survive until Barnard’s Star. I have to, so I can.
Harmony I: Day 645
I am going to have a talk with Captain Hao.
It will be delicate. I can’t do it when someone else could be watching. And her door isn’t open, anymore. When I come by, she waves pages of Mandarin paperwork in my face. I have to wait for the right moment.
It’s awful, waiting. It drove me to distraction all day. Finally, I gave up and went to Henri.
He smirked the way he always smirked. “Ah, yes, love. I’ll give you something else to think of.” He pulled me close without waiting to see if I liked the idea or not. Half of me hated him for it and half of me wanted to kiss him until speech was not an option. I went with the kissing. Henri’s not all bad. His jaw is a good shape. His skin tastes salty, alive.
I’d kissed halfway down his neck before I realised I wasn’t thinking of those things. And, this time, not about Captain Hao, either. I was thinking of the pulse in his throat. Strong, heady, rhythmic, saltier than skin. The red, the life, hiding inside him. I wanted to touch that. To taste it.
I pulled back abruptly. Henri raised an eyebrow, not moving. He’s learned not to push.
You are ours, said the stars, suddenly loud in my ears. We can use you.
I put my hands over my ears. Henri tilted his head. “Moremi, what...?”
I shoved him away and ran back to my room.
I’m not crazy. Captain Hao’s the crazy one. I’ve always had these little uncomfortable moments. One time, I had a girlfriend back in Johannesburg who—
I don’t remember her name. I don’t remember what she did.
I remember it was awkward, though, and I came home and told Onalenna about it. Once told, it was funny. We laughed and laughed, and Onalenna said—
What did she say?
I can’t picture my sister’s face, anymore. I don’t know what she said. I don’t remember our mother’s name, only the stick of her wrist as she hugged me goodbye. I remember Onalenna’s last words to me: Don’t look back, Moremi. I’ll miss you, but....
But what?
I think I remember her voice. I think I remember it cracking. But I don’t remember my sister.
Harmony I: Day 646
I don’t remember what I said when I
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