Untethered

Dani felt untethered. 

It was like the drop of her stomach during a sudden fall. But without context. Was she falling? She had the sense that the space around her was somehow falling with her. Her understanding was fragmented, coming to her in pieces. 

Nausea.  

Dizziness. 

For a brief instant, she imagined she could sense the space around her, viscerally. Everything seemed to be coming to her through intense colors and sensations. 

It felt jarring to open her eyes, even the smallest amount. The air felt stale; recycled. She had anticipated fluorescent lights that would match the fabricated taste of the air. Instead, there was an inconsistent warmth in the way the light greeted her. It should have been comforting but she felt uneasy. Her vision slowly focused on a seam in the ceiling. Bolts holding together metal. It was unfamiliar. 

She tried to turn her head but found it held in place. Something soft gently pressed against her forehead. She attempted to reach up but realized her arms were also held at the wrists. In a sudden panic she strained against them. She could feel her heart pounding. 

“Woah, hey. Take it easy.” 

It was a familiar voice. Her eyes darted around searching for the source. 

“Mom?! Mommy?!” 

She would have been embarrassed by how childlike she sounded, under different circumstances. 

A familiar face came into view as she felt soft fingers on her cheek. 

“Yes. I’m here. Just breathe.” She calmed at the sound of her mother’s voice, incrementally and automatically. “I’m going to take the straps off but I need you to relax.” 

“What is going on? Where...” she exhaled suddenly, needing to release the pressure of overwhelm. “Where are we?” 

There was silence as her mother worked on her head and arm straps. There was a smile on her gently lined face but Dani could see the strain there as well. She had a tightness around her mouth. Her eyes, generally full of brightness and comfort, were worried. 

They were also clearly working at avoiding Dani. 

She repeated, “Where are we, Mom?” 

Her arms were free, and her mother had moved towards her legs. As she strained to watch the process, she felt a sudden lack of something that startled her. Despite the situation, she stopped and stared at her hands. They stayed where they were, floating there above the surface she was laying on, with no effort on Dani’s part.  

“We left.” 

---

She looked out of the thick glass, in awe of the sheer number of stars littered across the sky. 

“You knew how I felt. You knew I wanted to stay.” 

Space travel was not uncommon, especially in the last ten years of “Doomer Boomers” fleeing Earths problems, but it was expensive, uncomfortable, and crowded. Despite finding intrigue in the concept, she never wanted to go. Feared it. Was repulsed by the idea of leaving the Earth; its trees, sky, snow and sand. And all the people she loved. 

She was livid; shaking with the combination of shock and fury; burning red. This, all while still adjusting to the lack of gravity and the disbelief of being where she was, was disorienting.  

Again, for an instant, she had the sensation that her emotion, her consciousness, was expanding out of her body. She could sense the space that her mother took up next to her; her body heat and anxiety crackling. Her own energy bouncing off the thick sheets of metal that contained the air keeping them alive. Even the electricity running through the wires in the hull left an impression on her for that moment. 

Finally, her mother spoke. 

“We couldn’t stay.” 

“Couldn’t? I never wanted to spend my life floating in a tin can in space. I’m not a child. You can’t do this.” She wished that, for once, she was able to yell; to raise her voice to match the intensity she felt inside. If there was a time to express it, this would be it. 

“Dani, I understand why you’re upset.” Her voice was quiet. 

“This makes no sense. You always called the Doomer Boomers dramatic. Things were improving. Plastics were down. The shields were up and working for the flares. Even in my lifetime, things got better…I mean, you know things were improving! Those people running, crammed in those ships just...going out. There’s nowhere to go. It’s an idea sold by greedy corps. What kind of life-“ she stopped. 

It occurred to her, then, that she was on a spaceship. 

“How are we here?” Her voice was low, gesturing to her surroundings. 

Her mother seemed thrown by her sudden shift in subject. 

“I don’t…what do you mean?” 

“I mean I’ve seen the ships that we could afford a spot on. They were a few steps up from the Apollos and, from what I’ve heard, don’t fly until fully booked. I don’t see huddled masses. And there’s some tech I’ve never seen. Expensive, I assume. How are we here?” 

“An old friend.” 

---

She took small pulls from the pouch. The mush was surprisingly flavorful, though the texture would get old fast.  

At the moment, it was a helpful distraction.  

She needed to eat. Her mother told her as much before leaving her alone in the kitchen. She was feeling shaky and restless, like she was coming out of her skin. The strange flashes of feeling out of her body were wearing on her already fraught emotional state. She assumed it was a result of whatever her mother drugged her with. Or being in space.  

She finished her pouch as she stared at the wall, trying to organize her thoughts and experiences into a unified whole that made sense. She could sense conclusions on the edge of her mind that she was trying to avoid. Something she was not quite ready to incorporate. Because she was not quite sure what it meant. 

She heard voices down the hall. Before she knew what she was doing, she was gently pushing herself off the wall, and floating towards the sounds. The passage was narrow, presumably to prevent anyone from losing control as they went careening through the small space. 

As she neared the first doorway, the voices became more discernible. 

“-her. What if I can’t say it right? I want her to understand.” 

A recognizable feminine voice answered, not quite robotic but tinny, as if contained in a metal box. “As stated previously, the connection you have will likely aid in creating a more desirable emotional response. Which will make the process smoother for everyone.” 

There was a pause and then she heard her mother release a sob in a sudden muffled burst. Dani fought the urge to go to her, a painful blue bubble in her chest, but she was finally getting some answers. There were sounds of slow breathing as her mother calmed herself. 

“She’s so young.” It was said so softly and Dani thought her mother had said it to herself until she heard the reply. 

“Is she not fully matured by the standards of your society? We realize 30 was somewhat arbitrary but our preliminary findings suggested that this was the age of a fully mature adult.” 

“Yes…yes, but” she could hear exasperation in her mother's voice, “she is mature, but to me...there is still so much for her to see and do…on Earth I mean. You never want to see your child die.” 

Her stomach lurched and she felt her skin tingle. A pale pink, spiny feeling. She could hear her pulse in her ears. 

“She will not die. We have explained that-“ 

“I know.” 

There was silence. 

Dani’s hands were shaking as she allowed herself to float toward the door automatically. 

“What is this? What is happening?” 

Her mother’s red-rimmed, wide eyes stared at her. It created a swirl of conflicting emotions, glowing coal-like resentment and slowly simmering guilt, deep purple. It was becoming difficult to process it all. She could feel neurotransmitters and blood physically working through her body; in her shoulder blades and down to her hands. Welling up in her throat. 

Suddenly the warm lights brightened and flickered in the room. They both looked up to watch, temporarily distracted. The flickering ceased after a moment and she shifted her attention back to her mother and the source of the other voice. 

It was a simple EeVee unit. Probably one of the earliest models. It was the type that had the basic conversational AI programs on it...nothing she would expect to be able to have the conversation she just heard. It appeared to be in sleep mode. 

Her mother was still watching her, tears filling her eyes but not falling. 

“Dani, I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“For what? Tell me what is going on. Why are we on this ship?”  The walls vibrated around her in jade ripples. 

Her mother also glanced around, almost as if the vibrations were not just in Dani’s head. 

“This ship is not aimless.” 

“Okay…where are we going?” 

“You needed space. Will need...more than a regular person. Human.” 

“I am...human.” 

“Yes, you are. But you are also something more.” 

“This is…ridiculous.” Colorless and clear, without substance. 

Her mother's face was serious as she continued, looking as if she was forcing herself to power through her next words. 

“We thought you weren’t going to happen for us, me and your father. It had been five years of trying and we were tired. And then they came and offered help and…there you were.” 

Her eyes were misty as she spoke, and she managed a small, sad smile towards Dani. 

Dani felt a flood of warm forest green in her chest. As she listened, she struggled to piece the jagged shards of information together. 

“So…I’m adopted?” She couldn’t believe that. She looked just like her mother. She heard it all the time. 

“No, not really. It’s… you are fully, biologically, of me and your father…but there is more. It’s how they…” she struggled for words then looked to the EeVee with desperation. “Please?” 

The unit extended its head up as it came out of the sleep state, startling Dani, who had almost forgotten it was there and working, allowing it to blend into the surroundings as they were talking. 

“Hello Danielle.”  

“Uh…hi?” 

She felt dazed. She was talking to an EeVee; a commercial, ubiquitous piece of tech. It shouldn’t be able to do much more than give her takeout options, let her know what the weather is, or bring her extra toilet paper. 

“You are human, as your mother stated. You are also a developing part of us.”  

“I don’t understand. Who is ‘us’?” 

“We do not have a name for ourselves. In terms you can comprehend from your own understanding of the universe, we are a species that exists in multiples dimensions. Existing in this dimension as an individual requires a body, preferably organic. In our first stage of life, we are incubated as the consciousness of a biological organism. You are nearing the end of this stage and are ready to move to the next stage in the process.”  

“What process?” Swirling grey dread. 

“Humans are different than we expected. Your connection to others of your species and the emotional experiences that result interact powerfully with our energies. The effects are bringing forth the critical point sooner than expected. Time is limited.” 

There was a rush just below her skin, white rapids, more intensely this time, as the Eevee’s words sunk in. 

“That is what you are feeling, love.” It was her mother speaking again. 

“What do you mean?” She heard the defensiveness in her own voice. 

“I see it love. You feel it.” 

“I still don’t understand!” Again, the lights dimmed and came back on, in rapid succession. It was getting harder to ignore. 

Eevee spoke again. “You are prepared to move to the next phase. It is important for you to be in the right place.” 

“Where?” 

Silence. 

Dani asked again. “Where are we going?” 

“It’s why we had to leave, love.” 

She felt uneasy. It simmered in her stomach, an orange sickly fizzing. She was becoming more aware of it and she could feel the air doing the same, in ripples around her. 

“What is happening to me?” 

EeVee spoke again. “It will begin soon.” 

“What does that mean? What is the next phase?” 

“It is the end of the organic structure of your body. It is a new way to be in the universe.” 

She glanced at her mother and was weighed down, suddenly, by an inky black. She vaguely noticed her sweater changing color. 

“Mom...Why are you crying?” 

“Please leave us Eevee.” 

“The time is of supreme -” 

“I know. Just give us the time. I will take care of her.” 

“Very well. It is in your hands.” 

Dani was in shock. She did not fully comprehend what they were saying but she knew the ominous feeling she had was appropriate as she watched the Eevee use small puffs of compressed air to maneuver itself out of the room. 

Her mother was in front of her, her hand gently cupping Dani’s face. 

“Mom...” 

“You are going to be okay, love.” 

“No, I’m not. I heard you talking. I’m going to die, aren't I?” 

“Not really. You will go on. You will remember this life. It will just be different.” 

“But my body? It will die. And all my friends at home? I’ll never see them again. Or you. Why couldn't I stay there?” She knew she sounded childish again, but she didn’t care. 

“You don’t know what you will see again. I don't know how it works. I just know we had to be away from the Earth so that...” she trailed off and looked down for a moment before continuing. 

“You won’t cease to exist, and that makes me happy. Because I couldn’t stand to be here if that was the case. But it’s going to be...big. And destructive. They told me you won’t feel a thing, but if we had stayed on earth, it would have been deadly for every living thing. And I knew you wouldn’t want that.” 

The panic was back. White, hot, and breathtakingly bright. Dani could feel tears staining her cheeks. 

Her skin felt as if it were vibrating with a sharp, molten heat. Fear. She focused on her mother's voice; her face. She could smell the hint of her perfume; the same one she had worn for as long as Dani could remember. It was comforting. Made her feel almost as if her feet were on the ground. 

“I remember when you were born. You were wrinkly and red. I can picture your spastic little limbs. I can feel the frustration of trying to get you to stop crying; the annoyance of dealing with your defiance at bedtimes when you were three. The challenge of keeping a straight face when you were five and being hilarious while I was trying to discipline you. I remember the first time you told me you loved me and you actually knew, more or less, what it meant. I remember seeing you fall in love with a book, getting obsessed with a band, and rolling your eyes with pure annoyance, directed squarely at me. I’ve never loved anything as fully as I have loved you. I'm scared too, because I’ve been able to witness your life and I don’t know what is going to happen to you. But I know its more than I could fathom. And still, you are giving them something they’ve never experienced. They have never known the pain and joy and pure ache of loving someone the way I loved you. The way you loved me. Wherever you go, you will have that memory. And that has to be enough for me, that I could give you that and that you could share it with a whole species.” 

The deep violet pressure in her chest expanded and contracted with heaving breaths. She had not realized when it happened but she was gripping her mothers hands tightly. 

She could sense a rumbling beginning in her stomach and rolling out through her limbs. Her mothers eyes glanced down at where their hands met with wonder and slight fear. 

“Don’t be afraid. They told me it would be quick.” 

Frozen. 

“Mom! What are you doing? You said it would be destructive. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

Even as Dani looked around to find a way to get her mother out her mother let out a sigh of laughter. 

“My home is underwater, and my husband is gone. I love my life but the time I have left is not worth letting you do this on your own. Because I needed you to take this with you. I need you to always carry the knowledge that you were loved and what that looks like in action. It feels important. For more than just us.” 

“Mom, no-“ 

“I’m not afraid of death, Dani. The only thing I fear is –“ 

A flash shattered the moment into pieces. There were colors she’d never seen as she felt no more…and somehow everything. Everything was in pieces around the point she had existed within. She sensed it yet had no attachment to it. She felt, instead, a melding with something new. An impression of newness and belonging. She was flooded with understanding; of how things fit together; how they functioned. It would have been overwhelming running through her previous biology, but now it just was. 

She also knew, sensed deeply, the shift her previous experience had caused to this collective she was now a part of. She could feel curiosity from outside the individual aspect of her being. It was difficult to grasp. 

It was a warmth and an anchor. A tether to something so different, yet so much the same as oneself. And as the sensation arose, she recognized a familiar essence. 

Mom.