Out Of Space Novels & Stories

Peter said, his deep, resonant baritone cutting through the room like a blade, "is the meaning of this configuration, Phoebe?" "It’s called a workspace, Peter," I said, my tone dripping with unfiltered, sunny sarcasm as I swirled another brush. "I have an entrance portfolio due for the Makeup Academy next month, and since your ridiculous contract says I’m not allowed to leave this tower without a security detail, I brought my side hustle into the communal space. Deal with it."

"Yeah. Just tired. Promise." A pause. I hear him shift his weight. "Okay. I'm gonna head to the facility. Left some pancakes in the fridge if you want them later." "Thanks." More silence. Then footsteps, retreating. The front door opens and closes, and the penthouse goes quiet. I wait until I hear the elevator ding in the hall before I let myself breathe. And then I think about what Callum said. The club. A place some of the guys go. Private. Members only.

They began to fall toward the atmosphere below, where they would burn up like shooting stars. MISSION COMPLETE. SIGNAL SILENCED. REWARD: 40,000 CREDITS. THE AFTERMATH Ren logged out. He felt tired. Bone deep tired. The Zero-G missions always messed with his inner ear, leaving him dizzy and nauseous. He walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. His hand shook slightly. He opened his laptop to the Aethelgard News Feed. He knew what he would see. BREAKING NEWS: GLOBAL INTERNET OUTAGE

Not obedience. Just silence. Sera understood. Some wounds go deeper than flesh. Some truths take time to speak. She lay down. And for the first time in weeks, she closed her eyes without gripping a weapon under her pillow. Elsewhere… In deep space, far beyond the edge of the orbital grid, a relay blinked to life. It didn’t broadcast. It didn’t ping. It simply listened. And in the static of open space, a voice cracked through Not Mira’s. Not Sera’s.

I explain. “You told your mother about us?” He asks. “No, your mother told my mother about us.” I say and he groans. “That means my father blabbed to her about us.” Mason says looking pissed. “Hey, it’s okay.” I say. “But can we just be us for a while without parents and stuff.” I say. “Just us.” Mason says agreeing pulling me closer into him. We’re cuddled up on the couch in front of the tv, big bang theory playing in background but we aren’t really paying attention.

I looked again at the countless stars that give life to the quiet of the night. “Alaric Delray . . . ” Out of all words I could possibly utter, it also surprised me why his name automatically came out from my lips. Is this the answer of my question? You ran away because you lost reasons to be here? Did you vanish because there are far better places in the universe you can live in?

The dress shirt was so tight around his biceps I wondered how he didn’t just split them any time he bent his arm at the elbow. He gave me another friendly smile and led me down the stairs and behind the kitchen to another door which led to the basement stairs. He flicked on the lights, and I followed him into the finished underground level. There was a mini bar and lounge set up, with leather couches and a large-screen TV mounted on the wall. In the opposite direction was a glass-walled home gym. There was a variety of equipment inside, including a treadmill, stationary bike, and rowing machine, as well as a variety of free weights.

In the end, only Millie, Julian, and Celia remained. Only three of them were left, just like in the beginning. The remaining employees requested to work remotely, citing illnesses or personal reasons. Millie guiltily said, "Julian, maybe you should consider working somewhere else. I feel that you're being held back if you continue to stay here. I'm not a good business partner. I'll only drag you down."

He explains, “It was really weird, but I owed you, so I got you out of there.” “I was dead?” “Close, I had to pump you with over ten times the legal amount of stabilizers just to keep you breathing.” Terror states “Thanks,” Nya said, then she looked around, “Are we in an escape pod?” “A voyager pod, used to tout guests around areas too small for the ship. We’re in deep space right now. Nearest planet is…” he pauses to look at a screen, “…Marxa, which is about 12 light-years away.”

You could feel life had already left this home. The door leading to the studio was already open and I reluctantly crossed it after sighing one last time in preparation. The room was as large as my whole apartment, with a traditional oak desk and several books covering the walls. At the end of it, under a cabinet full of wine bottles, I could see a small shrine with the picture of Boss and a young woman with long dark hair and almond colored eyes. Tears began forming again but, before I started weeping, something else caught my attention. A small girl was crouching right next the picture, hugging her knees and covering her face with them, their daughter. I remember now, Boss had a daughter.