Sojourner

I stared out the front viewport of my ship at the cold, distant stars, and flipped through the radio stations for the third time in the past hour. There had been nothing good on since we left Mars two days ago. This leg of the trip was always especially boring. Reception of any kind was spotty between the Outer Giants, and this shipment was going all the way to Neptune.

I lit another cigarette, noting with resignation that the ashtray was overflowing. Again. My nerves were frayed and my usual habits were doing nothing to help. Smoke choked the narrow space of the bridge and empty coffee mugs littered the already cluttered dash. People always thought technology would make us healthier, and it did, but, like pirates tearing a ship apart for scrap, capitalists took the opportunity to bring back vices that had once killed millions. We beat cancer, and a number of industries burst back into existence overnight. Cigarettes had become a staple of my diet.

I considered getting up to check the pantry for food, but I knew that all we had left was dehydrated field rations. I hadn’t planned for more than one passenger. I leaned back into the familiar dent of the vinyl pilot’s chair, exhaling a cloud of smoke while trying to ignore my rumbling stomach. We were still at least two days out from Jupiter.

Sojourner had autopilot controls, so I really didn't need to be sitting there, but this had become my default position long ago–-even back before the ship became my own. It had been lonely at first, without my mother and my sister, but recently I found myself craving that once haunting solitude. I glanced briefly at a postcard I had taped to the wall near the controls of a nondescript beach on pre-Exodus Earth, all it said on the back was “To Shiro, from Mel”. I wished I could be on one of the beaches of Venus right then, with all its open space. Sojourner was small for a cargo ship, and there wasn’t anywhere to get away from my current passenger for long. I hadn’t tried the vents yet though.

I wish I could say that I met Alice in some interesting and atmospheric place, like a bar on a warm summer night or an underground casino in an old Mercurian warehouse. The truth is, we met in a convenience store on Luna while I was passing through to my next job. I was buying a sandwich and some aspirin. She was getting a milkshake. I dropped my keys. She picked them up. I told her I liked her shoes. Two hours later we were in the cabin of my ship. Her milkshake was melted and my sandwich was cold. 

It seemed like an obvious choice to bring her along on the job.

Alice was a beautiful woman by any metric. She possessed an innocence that was disarming and seductive, which is exactly what you want when you’re smuggling several tons of narcotics from one end of the solar system to the other. There were, admittedly, a few other benefits that probably factored into my initial decision, but she had me questioning a lot of my choices now.

I heard her soft footsteps coming down the hallway and turned to see her walk onto the bridge. Her hips swayed fluidly beneath her faded shorts and the plunging neckline of her shirt left very little to be imagined. I couldn’t help but stare. She smiled brightly at me, her blue eyes sparkling. In spite of myself, I grinned back at her.

She planted a kiss on my lips and sat down, immediately pushing herself against me. Not for the first time that day, I wished for bucket seats. I flipped through the radio stations again. Four times that hour. Still nothing. Alice hummed to herself cheerfully.

“Your hair is such a mess,” she ruffled my hair playfully, “you’re lucky you have pretty eyes.”

I grunted in reply, fruitlessly attempting to fix my hair.

The two of us sat in silence, watching the void drift gently by. Alice pulled at my tie. Her fingers were soft and her nails were painted a bright blue to match her lips. I eventually conceded and removed the tie altogether. I always had a hard time telling a pretty woman “no”. She moved on to playing with my shirt buttons.

“Can we stop somewhere to eat soon?” She whined, “I’m starving.”

I blinked at her for a moment, and then looked back out the viewport at the barren asteroids surrounding us. It was the definition of emptiness.

 “We’re at least a day out from Jupiter. There’s some dehydrated meals in the pantry though.”.

“They’re all pork and beans flavored.” Her lip curled upward as she shook her head. I grimaced almost in unison.

“There should be some spaghetti and meatballs left too.”

“I ate the last of that yesterday, hun.”

I hated to admit she was right, but we really did need to stop soon. We weren’t going to make it to Neptune on a diet of reconstituted pork and beans. I sighed, staring up at the familiar rivets of the ceiling, knowing our only option was some backwater asteroid.

“Fine, we’ll stop at the first store we find.” I looked downwards to find her grinning at me and bouncing in her seat. A woman in her late twenties should not have that much energy. I could already see her making lists in her head, and I started mourning my bank account. 

“Oh, we also need some more shampoo.”

“What do you mean? We have plenty of soap,” I looked at her, wondering how often a woman could possibly shower.

“You mean you have soap. I’m not using that dish detergent on my hair anymore.”

I nodded in defeat, and she giggled to herself at my frustration. There were moments when I found the homey touch she provided charming, and almost forgot just how clingy and demanding she could be.

“We also need a new mattress after this job.” Her constant use of the word “we” was difficult to ignore. Then, she placed her hand on my leg. She often presented her requests this way. We spent the next few hours on the bridge together, only awkwardly kicking the controls once or twice. The radio even started working again.

I still wanted her off my ship.

#

By the time we reached the outskirts of the asteroid belt we were both beginning to consider the dehydrated pork and beans, so seeing a sign for a rest stop felt like salvation. Much like most rest stops it was little more than a parking lot full of neon signs glued to an asteroid in the middle of nowhere. It had the usual amenities, like fueling stations, strip clubs, motels attached to the strip clubs, convenience stores, travel info and the like. This particular asteroid was special though, because besides your regular convenience stores, it also had a diner. The establishment was nameless, with a single neon sign in its window that simply said: “Eat”.

I was always suspicious to find anything this far out. Asteroid fields were usually colonized by the more unscrupulous elements of humanity. These were not what you would call respectable business people. These were the kind of industrious minds that would cook you a meal, and, while you're distracted, siphon all the fuel from your tank. And after all that impropriety you would still find a razor blade in your salad. I had a hell of a lot of respect for folk like that.

Our grocery shopping consisted of everything you can get at a convenience store, mostly beef jerky and frozen burritos. Even in a convenience store Alice was managing to burn a frustratingly big hole in my pocket. By the time we carried everything back to Sojourner, you would have thought we were stocking a wine cellar. She did make a point of buying me a carton of cigarettes though, and I was even more impressed when I saw her don a pair of sunglasses and simply walk out. The cashier just waved to her dumbly as she went. There were definitely benefits to having her around. I checked the keys in my jacket pocket, and was satisfied to hear their familiar jingle. Places like this always had me checking my pockets.

I stretched my muscles, enjoying the open space and cleaner air of the asteroid. It was definitely no beach on Venus, but it was nice to be out of the ship. Alice seemed just as content to be out in the open. She grabbed my hand and leaned her head against me, humming as she pulled me towards the diner. 

I was starting to get over some of my initial misgivings about Alice’s company. I was a lucky man in many ways after all. I had a consistent, if criminally illegitimate, source of income, I had Sojourner, the only home I really ever knew, and I had a beautiful woman at my side. I was beginning to chalk everything up to a combination of hunger and cabin fever when Alice stopped me. I looked down at her, and she blushed under my gaze.

“I love you, Shiro,” she said while gazing into my eyes.

I froze for a moment as panic seeped into my veins.

“I love you too, Alice,” I said reflexively, hating the taste of the words the second they passed my lips. She smiled widely, putting her arms around my neck and pulling my face down to hers. She grabbed my hand in hers and damn near skipped the rest of the way to the diner.

I could barely think. Every alarm was going off in my head and I couldn’t make sense of any of it. I had met this woman barely more than a week ago, and she already loved me? My legs felt like jello and my brain began looking for any way to get myself out of the situation. Looking down at her smile made me nauseous.

When we arrived at the diner, the smell of pancakes and deep fried food nearly brought me back to reality. The interior was worn and moldering in the same sad way that most rest stop restaurants tend to be, complete with a stained formica countertop and booths faded by time. The waitress who seated us was miserable looking though vaguely attractive, but I couldn’t blame her for her mood when I saw how many customers seemed to have confused the diner and the strip club. I wondered what time of day it actually was, though time was mostly a political opinion after the exodus from Terra. Alice was ignorant to this, focusing on her menu instead. 

Before I knew it, Alice was ordering excitedly, and I hadn’t even picked up the menu. The waitress stood there looking at me tiredly.

“And what can I get for you, sweetheart?” It was the least sincere term of endearment I had ever heard, and yet I could still see Alice’s shoulders tighten for a moment.

“I’ll have the same thing she’s having,” I said, handing over my menu. “And coffee.”

“You already have coffee, hun.” Alice extended a deliberate and meaningful hand, placing it over mine. I looked down in front of me to discover that she was right. I must have ordered it without realizing.

“Oh, thanks,” I muttered as the waitress walked away.

I looked across the table at Alice, still trying to get my bearings. Somehow, her smile was still disarming. Her shirt hung loose on her in a way that was almost theatrically provocative. She held my hand tight, pushing her knee against my thigh under the table. I just sat there, listening to her talk, not sure what to do. I’m pretty sure I considered pushing her out the airlock of the ship at one point.

“It feels so nice to finally be off Luna.” Alice sighed. “I always wanted to explore the solar system, meet new people, see new things. I do miss my home in Io a bit though.”

I stared silently into my coffee.

“So where’s home for you?”

The question actually surprised me, most people don’t ask spaceborn that sort of thing. Not that it was rude, just trivial. It was amazing how little we actually knew about each other.

“I was born near Saturn, lived there for a couple of years. Technically I’m spaceborn though.”

“You must have seen all kinds of places then.” She seemed genuinely amazed at the thought.

“Maybe too many.”

I stared into my coffee again, this time thinking of the swirling clouds of Silum Attar, the capital of Saturn. It was bittersweet to think of its floating buildings and interconnected catwalks, nights spent in neon clubs, faces of friends I left behind. I missed the thump and chaos of the city. I was afraid to go back.

“When we’re done on Neptune we need  to go visit my friend Sunny on Saturn,” eyes sparkling. “She’s a singer, you would love her.”

“I’m sure I would, babe.”

“Just not too much,” her face suddenly became serious. We laughed, though my own sounded hollow and hung in the air like the stale smoke from my cigarette.

This continued for the whole meal. The food arrived, she ate her pancakes while I barely touched mine. She did steal the whipped cream from mine though I don’t recall when. She told me about her home on Io, her friends, her family, and all her favorite restaurants throughout the rings of Jupiter. By the end I found myself wishing I had more to tell her, but my only family, my mother and my sister, were dead. My home was in the parking lot. I lost all of my friends over the years and dehydrated meals and cigarettes made up the majority of my diet.

Finally, the thought occurred to me to go use the bathroom, and so I stood up from the table hoping to find some clarity in a moment of solitude. As I walked by her, Alice grabbed my wrist and pulled me down into a kiss. She held it longer than usual, or maybe it was me. Our lips parted, and her smile was there waiting for me. Her eyes were bluer than Neptune itself. Something about that moment burnt it directly into my soul. I still think about it on days when I feel lonely.

I floated towards the bathroom, feeling like a ghost of who I once was. When I entered, it was a simple tiled affair with a few stalls. It was just me in there. I stood at one of the sinks, breathing heavily, staring into my own eyes. “James and Nico” was carved into the mirror, surrounded by a heart. Vague offers for fun were advertised as just a phone call away in sloppy black marker on the wall. I splashed water against my face, desperate to anchor myself to the world around me.

 Then I saw the most direct proof of divine intelligence I had ever encountered: a window. 

I realized that I could escape, get to my ship, and leave Alice. No more confusion, no more extravagant purchases, just me and Sojourner again. I was free.

I pulled the window open and began climbing through without a moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t a large window, but I still had plenty of room. I scraped my hands on the exterior bricks, and did my best not to tear my shirt. 

About halfway through, I realized my mistake. I was doing the same thing I always did. It would be just me and Sojourner again.

Alone.

 I didn’t want to be on my own anymore. I wanted a life with meaning and joy. Alice was offering me that, and I was just about to throw it all away, out the proverbial window. So I pulled myself back in, wriggling ungracefully. I tried to clean myself up a bit so I wouldn’t look so much like a panicked animal. The effect was uninspiring. I smiled at myself in the mirror before leaving. I thought I was turning over a new leaf. 

It took a moment for panic to set in as I arrived back at the booth. Alice wasn’t there, and I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I only realized I should begin to panic once I sat back down. I touched my jacket, looking frantically for my keys but couldn’t find them. Adrenaline dumped into my veins. My already worn out nerves were screaming. 

That bitch played me.

I ran out the door, ignoring the waitress as she screamed at me, something about the bill, tripping my way down the front steps of the diner. My legs carried me across the parking lot as fast as they could. Halfway across the parking lot I heard the familiar sound of Sojourner’s engines activating. I saw my ship rise up into the air, turn slowly, and blink out of existence along with everything I owned and enough contraband to keep Ganymede high for a week. I came to a grinding halt.

“Well shit,” I said.

And that’s how I fell in love for the first time.