Flash Fiction

The Station

Sometimes I have trouble quieting my mind. Today is one of those days. Others' thoughts keep invading, overshadowing my own. Normally, I can set them aside and allow them to drift away into a mist of an ignorance of my making. Not today.

The fault in the main shielding, the barrier between us and the vacuum of space, was to blame. I wasn't particularly worried about it. Others were. There had been faults before, and they were always corrected. The crew was especially motivated when their lives were on the line.

I floated down the corridor, past Med, and toward Com. I disliked passing Med. I was bombarded with the garbled thoughts of the ill. Nausea engulfed me, not enough to make me lose my breakfast, but enough to make me wish I hadn't eaten. If only they could hold their thoughts in, at least the dizziness. I closed my eyes and continued forward knowing it would pass with distance.

True concern hit me as I passed Com. The commander wore a confident shell of efficiency on the outside. Inside, he was a panicked pile of jelly. His greatest fear, an implosion, was forced into my mind. His personality was too strong to ignore it. I saw the station collapsed like a tin can, the failure of his command and the posthumous shame he envisioned. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly as I had been taught. I did not absorb the fear and knew it for what it was. It was not mine.

I pulled my floating body by the survey offices. I could see that work had stopped. More fear breached my feeble defenses. There were two newbies aboard and this was their first crisis. I could taste their anxiety. I smiled as a young scientist, a cute raven haired girl, wondered if she should just kiss her boss before the station blew up. I could feel her desire for him and found myself envious. More images, beyond kissing entered her mind. I reminded myself not to let the thoughts generate feelings in me. It was the first thing taught to me and the hardest to master. I increased my speed to create distance, lest I get aroused.

My sanctuary was nearing. I could see the warning written on the door. I found the lettering silly since outers like me could feel it, and inners don't trust it. My mind began to clear as I neared, the shielding leaking well beyond the room. My thoughts became softer, less dramatic, and all my own. "Telepathy Shielded" was written in bold red letters on the door. My mind relaxed as I opened the door.

Soft music drifted into my ears. It was singularly uncomplicated and simply beautiful. There were no other thoughts regurgitating the tune in an offbeat un-harmony, only my mind processing the sound. My shoulders relaxed as my muscles let go of the strain that had been building.

The room was built along the bulkhead. Large windows, the size of a man, were set along the gentle curve. Inside the windows, tables were arranged to follow the arc. There were numerous blue pillars laid symmetrically about the room. The pillars emitted the counter telepathy waves that nullified thought transmission. They were my favorite structures on the whole station.

The tables were filled with outers, others who needed a break from the panic. We were of no use during a crisis. It was during normal operations that the company found us useful; when we could monitor for corporate spies and the one-earth terrorists.

I glanced around the room and found her. She was sitting alone, dreamily looking out a window into space. I blessedly had no idea what she thought about it.

Melanie was my secret. Everything about her was a mystery to me. She worked on the upper levels far from my mind which stayed on the lower command levels. I had no idea why she decided to cut her auburn hair at the neckline or why she spent time curling it inward. I enjoyed the way it swung to and fro as her head moved. I approached slowly, the generated gravity gently increasing, dropping me to my feet now that I was out of the corridor.

Melanie smiled as she saw me. I cherished that smile. There was nothing behind it besides what I imagined. It looked real, so I knew it to be. I returned an uncontrollable smile of my own.

"Damon," Melanie said softly, "I was hoping you would come." She held out her hand across the table, her deep amber eyes anxious. I sat opposite her and took her hand in mine. I loved the blind familiarity we had.

"It's too noisy out there," I admitted, "I needed to see you and clear my mind." Her fingers lightly caressed my wrist, soothing me. Melanie was my center, what I thought about when I started to lose myself in others. I believed I was her rock as well, though it was a pleasure not to know for sure.

"Do you think it goes on forever like they say?" Melanie asked as she looked back to the stars.

"I hope it does. I like the idea of infinite possibilities." I could see my statement's affect her eyes. It was enchanting to know her only through slight muscle movements - interest identified by the slightest twitch of an eyebrow.

"This is my last tour, " Melanie informed me. She turned her head to look me in the eyes. "I decided last night." I could only imagine whose mind she was in when the decision became final. Outers can only take so much.

"Five tours is a lot. You've lasted longer than most." My other hand joined my first. I loved the feel of Melanie's hand in mine. The thought of her leaving began to grow in me, a weed I did not like. "When would you leave?" I stammered. It was growing into a large nasty weed with thorns.

"Ten cycles if the shuttle is on time," Melanie answered. There was sadness in her face. I was sure there was fear in mine. All those minds and no Melanie to help me order them. There were stories of outers cracking under the pressure, losing their self and imploding into incoherency. Her hand found my face and lightly caressed my cheek. "I'll wait for you if you ask," she said. I could see it then, the love in her eyes. I had not truly known until that moment. I was on my third tour. I did the math quickly in my head and realized I could live on fifty-percent retirement. Melanie was fully vested, so money wouldn't be an issue.

"I have thirty cycles left on my tour," I said hopefully. Melanie smiled, and I knew she would wait. She rose and leaned over the table, my lips meeting hers. So soft, so wonderfully soft. This would be my last tour as well.

"Do you care where we live?" Melanie asked. There was no need to read thoughts; we were in complete sync. My smile matched hers, our shared future before us. The telepathy augmentation would be surgically reversed, and what we have now would be ours forever. No other minds to destroy our happiness.

"Not too cold, and I would like to see the Sun more." Space does that to a mind. I dearly missed the Sun.

"I have family near...." Melanie started.

"Attention," the public address system kicked on, "the main generator will be cycled in ten seconds. Remain stationary." Melanie's eyes went wide. I let go of her hand and moved quickly, trying to get out of the room. I heard the doors latch to limit incidents due to gravity fluctuations. I leaned against the door, pushed myself as far from Melanie as possible. The lights went dark, gravity disappeared, and minds opened as the telepathy shield fell.

I closed my eyes and tried not to think, a skill no one can master. I found Melanie's mind and she found mine. A felt a mixture of love and distress. I saw her failures, her wants and the small things she disliked about me. In turn, she saw all of me, and I saw her thoughts about it. We churned in a cycle, our thoughts bouncing back and forth, burning off love as we learned too much.

The lights returned, and gravity once again held me to the floor. I looked up at Melanie, our minds once more alone. The tear in her eye was for what we lost. I no longer cared she was leaving. This wasn't my last tour.

We lost the mystery that our love needed to survive.