The Darkness Outside Us

by Eliot Schrefer

Nowhere is truly empty. The thought makes me feel lavishly alone. Somehow, space is so deeply melancholy that it’s not at all sad, like a note so low it ceases to sound. Even my sorrow about my insignificance feels insignificant.

Intimacy is the only shield against insanity. Intimacy, not knowledge. Intimacy, not power.

There’s only one warm thing for thousands of miles around, and he’s placed his body around mine.

“I spent my whole life feeling like I was a robot pretending to be a human. It just got confirmed.”

“Do you mean . . . a cuddle?” I ask, face hot. He blanches. “That’s not what we would have called it back in training.” I roll my eyes. “This was called, what, ‘tough-man companion time’?” He laughs. “Not so far from that, actually.” I

“Well, yes. That was how life on Earth worked, too. People did a lot of tasks and tried to keep death as far away as possible.”

“I want to die at the same time as you.” He shuts his eyes heavily. “I want you to live.”

Three, settle into kissing Ambrose as soon as possible. You’ll enjoy it very much, and you’ll only have time for so many kisses.”

I love you, I want to say. Instead, the words that come out are “time for a break.”

You love Kodiak. This is the hidden miracle of all this: you might be loving each other deeper than any humans have ever loved, have ever needed to love, have ever had the occasion to love. Well, maybe Adam and Eve did, but you and I both know we don’t think they ever existed.

There is no mission control anymore. There is just you. No one will know if you succeed or fail. No one will notice your landing day. This lifetime is yours to make what you will of it.