The Beyond: Chapter Two

 Notes: Oh my god, this story got lost in the heat of summer and only now have I resurrected it, I'M SORRY ROBBIE AND WYL! I'm SORRY!

Anyway, have a second chapter, lol.

Title: The Beyond: Chapter Two

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Chapter Two

 

 

Photo by Engin Akyurt

 

Robbie never knew whose dreams he was having when he slept these days.

That he dreamt was undeniable and unavoidable. From the moment he shut his eyes at night, his brain was hijacked by the creature inside of him.

At first, it had careened through his memories, hag-riding his subconscious until it had unearthed every moment from Robbie’s past that he still held onto, most of which he barely knew were still in there. It conjured up visions of his mother from when he was just a child, a woman with constaltly raw, weeping spots on her hands from handling toxic components for the ships she helped build. He was placed back in his father’s arms the day before the man lost his leg in an industrial accident, the last time he’d ever seen his father smile and play with him. He felt the cold of cryosleep, saw only darkness but somehow heard the hiss of failing lifesystems all around him.

It especially loved to revisit the deaths he’d seen. Robbie had killed people during his time in the Marines, too many people, but the parasite far preferred to experiment with how much devastation Robbie could feel about the people he’d lost. His parents and grandparents…friends from the service…Jane, god, he hated remembering how Jane had died…Wyl, when Wyl froze to death and they barely brought him back in time—

That one had been so bad it had wrenched control back from the parasite, which didn’t like being sidelined by Robbie’s will. It had steered clear of most of the memories of Wyl after that, branching out until Robbie was back in Redstone, killing people he didn’t even know. Those had to come from Rory, one of the de facto bosses of the prisoner population in Redstone, the murderer who shared the same old blood as Robbie, and who’d inadvertently shared his passenger as well.

All of it? Some of it? By his own volition, or had the parasite forced him to do it? Robbie didn’t know, and he wanted to. Needed to, honestly. He needed more information about the parasite, as much as he could get, and most especially how to get it out of him.

A thick flow of suffocating satisfaction oozed through his brain. Never. You never will. No one tastes as good as you, Old Blood.

Robbie’s shoulder was shaking. Wyl was waiting for him. He had to wake up.

So sweet, so rich, so dirty with ancient worlds and ancient ways. You are delicious, Old Blood. Even the cleansing doesn’t change that.

The cleansing…Regen. Robbie knew it was Regen; he’d learned a lot of the parasite’s phrases by now. It was always quietest after he’d been injected with a fresh dose of Regen. Wyl had wondered if he should make it a daily treatment, but there was evidence contraindicating that for health after a while. Too much renewal, forced on a body with no other way out, could lead to horribly novel diseases.

“Robbie. Wake up.”

He needed to get up now. It was time…past time. He needed to be back with the man he loved. Robbie strained against the hold the parasite had on his limbic system.

Mine…don’t forget. He’ll know it as well. The thickness in his mind receded, and Robbie breathed in deep and opened his eyes. He looked at Wyl…

And Wyl startled so badly he jumped to his feet. “Fuck!”

“What?” Robbie asked.

“Your—it’s still—” He made a gesture at his eyes.

For shit’s sake. “Get out of there,” he snapped, and the tension receded further. “Sorry,” he said to Wyl, who shook his head in an effort to make light of it.

“No no, it’s fine,” he said. “Who’s bothered? Not me.”

Robbie knew better than to push when Wyl didn’t want to be pushed. “Of course not.” He shifted around and placed his feet down on the floor, making sure he had a good sense of it before he stood up. His balance had been suffering a bit lately as the parasite’s presence in his mind deepened. Run into a wall once, and your husband doesn’t leave you alone.

Wyl watched him being careful, but when he stood and didn’t sway, his shoulders relaxed a bit. “Do you want a shower?” he asked. “There’s enough fresh left in the tank for you.”

“Fresh” was a misnomer, given that the water had been recycled so many times after being on, in, and around each of them that it was permanently cloudy. Technically clean, but cloudy. This ship’s recycling system wasn’t the best, and it was low on the list of things to improve given that their crew was about to get smaller. Robbie shook his head. “I’ll wait until we get to the station.”

“About that.” Wyl leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed against his chest. It was his defensive posture, one he had stopped taking for a long time with Robbie that had come back in the past few years. He hated seeing it, hated knowing that there was nothing he could do to reassure his husband that things were going to be fine, that he was all right, that he was here with him and was going to stay that way.

They both knew there was no guarantee of that. Not yet.

“Are you sure you can manage the approach from this side? It’s busier than normal—the pulsar’s kicking out heavier gravity waves than expected.”

“It’ll be fine.” This was the preferred approach for Cloverleaf Station if you were coming from the Beyond because it minimized exposure to radiation—the asteroids were just too big, and they tended to be large, some as large as moons. They could extend a shield’s protection for hours, long enough to get into Cloverleaf’s anti-rad field generator, an innovation installed just last year that had completely changed how the station operated.

It was still a dangerous location, but for ships within a few hundred kilometers could take advantage of the massive magnetic field the station produced—as long as they shut their engines down completely once they were past the asteroids, which meant following the station’s instructions for docking with extreme precision. Once you were close enough, a specialized drone would come out, attach to the nose of your ship, and pull you into the station itself. They only worked within a very specific range of speeds, though, and if you overshot the station too fast, you had to wait until you were out of range of the artificial magnetic field to try again.

“All right.” That was apparently enough to settle Wyl. “Let’s get some food into you, then we’ll set out. Hopefully we’ll get through the approach before we have to eat again.”

“Hopefully,” Robbie agreed. “I’ll join you in a minute.” Wyl nodded, and Robbie headed for the bathroom.

He didn’t need to use it. That was something he’d been keeping to himself lately, because he knew it would scare Wyl, but he didn’t actually need to use the bathroom anymore. His body had become incredibly efficient in that way, leaving nothing for him to excrete. He did pee from time to time, when he drank too quickly for the parasite to keep up, but if he stayed relaxed with his intake…nothing. No turnover.

It would be a weird thing to confess, one more in a long line at this point, and so he didn’t. He washed his face, then checked his reflection for any sign of the parasite in his eyes or lips—places there the skin was thinnest. Nothing. Good.

He didn’t want to call attention to himself before he had to.

He dressed in clean clothes, simple spacer fare—blue shirt, gray pants, and long socks with hardened soles, all skin-tight and temp controlled, then put a larger hoodie over the top. The hoodie dated back to his marine years, and was the last piece of clothing he had from what might be termed his “youth.” It was threadbare and the words had long since frayed off, but it was the most comforting thing he had to wear, and it grounded him in his body like only touching Wyl did, and he couldn’t have Wyl touching him while he was navigating the asteroid field.

He stepped into the hallway and almost stepped into Isidore, who was emerging from his room with a smile on his face. His silver eyes were bright—they always were, given the reflective lenses, but they were particularly lively right now, and Robbie knew why. “I take it you’ve checked your messages from the welcoming committee.”

“Pence is ready for us,” Isidore confirmed as they walked one-by-one down the hall to the mess. The ship was tight—two people couldn’t fit side by side in it.

“Good.” Ready for you, you mean.

“And he’s arranged a face-to-face meeting with Kathryn Blake, too.” Isidore said it with the air of someone delivering a huge surprise, and it was merited. Robbie froze and turned to face him, incredulous.

“Over a comm?”

“In person,” Isidore clarified, grinning now. “She’s using Cloverleaf Station as her base of operations this season. She just got there two days ago. Pence had to share some of your research with her to get the meeting, but she’s really interested to talk to our crew now.”

“I bet.” Yeah, their research was interesting—it was unprecedented, because Robbie had the parasite swimming behind his eyes, showing him mysteries in the Beyond that either no human had ever plumbed before or none of them had bothered to share. Wyl had uploaded their videos to a repository on the station, one designed to be shared with Garrett in the event they went missing, but Pence had access to them as well. If he thought they were needed to get this meeting, then he was right.

“Blake is at the station?” Wyl demanded from the entrance to the mess. “Are you serious?”

“As a knife to the heart.”

“Such a sweet talker.” He was grinning now too, though, the merriment spreading, and Robbie was grateful to see it. “That’s amazing, though. She’s the Alliance authority on the Beyond. Over a dozen universities are funding her team, not to mention the mining interests funding metallurgical studies. Holy shit. Holy shit.”

“You’re welcome,” Isidore said smugly right before Wyl tackled him in a hug.

Robbie skirted around both of them and headed for the coffee pot. He poured himself one careful cup, stopping a full inch shy of the rim because it felt right there. He never overate these days, never overindulged in caffeine or liquor. Not that he had often before, but his body had become a finely-tuned machine.

Too bad the tune it was dancing to wasn’t his own. It burned Robbie that he couldn’t even be there for the meeting with Blake, or at least not all of it. Wyl had to be able to ask questions without the parasite knowing what they were, after all. He trusted Wyl with his life—of course he did—but he wasn’t used to giving up control. He hated it, in fact; it made his skin crawl, but…

“Hey.” Kyle raised his own cup from where he sat at the table, and Robbie seized on the distraction.

“Hey.” He sat down beside him. “You ready for the approach?”

“I won’t be the one navigating it.”

“You’re my backup for a reason,” Robbie reminded him. Wyl was an amazing shipbuilder, and Isidore was practically a doctor with how well he understood the human body, but Kyle was the only one who had reflexes anywhere close to what was needed to thread their ship through the asteroid field. It was about more than dodging chunks of rock; there were radiation mitigation efforts to make, long-term radar to take into account, and a trajectory to calculate and confirm before they entered the station’s magnetic field. “I’ll get us there if you handle reentry.”

Kyle nodded. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Robbie took a long, slow sip, savoring the bitterness of the coffee on his tongue. He took another mouthful, letting it wash across the back of his tongue, rich and strong and—

He choked, leaning forward and sputtering as coffee sprayed across the table. Every eye in the room turned on him, and Robbie waved their concern away even as he reached for a hand towel. “Just went down the wrong tube,” he said. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. That wasn’t the wrong tube, that was a forceful rejection by the parasite. But why? He’d been drinking coffee with this thing in him for years. He wiped his mouth, then briskly wiped down the table.

“I’ll get you some more,” Wyl said, reaching for the pot.

“I’m fine,” Robbie interjected. “Still have some here.” He cleared his throat, then stood up. “I’m going to prep the engine and get us moving. We should be there in about four standard hours.”

Wyl held out a meal bar. “At least eat this first.”

Robbie extended his arm warily, then relaxed as he was able to close his fingers around it. “Thanks.” He forced a smile, then headed into the cockpit.

The sooner he got things underway, the better.