Dust is a danger to starships. Pounding against the hull, particles merely microns thin can wear away shielding, eating protective layers down to nothing. Inside a ship, it creeps into everything, clogging mechanisms, messing with instruments, grinding the soft joints of spacesuits—the last line of defence between organic skin and cold, eternal nothingness.
But worst of all, it’s just plain annoying.
The heiress Mia Tan wipes her clammy hands on her coverall pants. An attractive face moves on a screen in her periphery, but she ignores it, turning instead to the video feed of the Atrium. Of the twenty-four other screens embedded in the bug-eyed wall, this is the only one she cares to see at this time of day. But there’s no one there, just plants and maintenance drones.
The movement again catches her eye—the loading bay screen. Damian Chandrasekhar leans towards the camera, checking his reflection in a nearby surface. He rakes a hand through his thick, styled hair and gives it a zhuzh to the left. What a peacock.
He brings his wristlet to his pouty lips and raises a manicured eyebrow at the lens. “Tick, tick, tick, Tan. The drones are on their way.”
“I said I’m coming, Chandy.” Mia buns her hair with a purple scrunchie and spits her stale gum in the bin. She wipes her hands again and fans her face. The subpar sanitation would bother her less if it wasn’t always so warm in the Bug Room. And if she wasn’t in a rush.
“Like, anytime soon?”
“Like if Nick’s arse-faced robot would stop touching my stuff, I’d be there already.”
He smirks. “Want me to head over? Maybe if I touch your stuff, it’d help you come a bit quicker.”
Yet We Sleep, We Dream by JL Peridot
Love triangles get bent out of shape when restless gods come out to play.
Relationships are complicated enough when only humans are involved — something the crew of the starship Athenia know plenty about. These children of a changing climate are no strangers to conflicts of the heart. And it seems there's a lot of conflict going on, even out in space.
When an alien dust finds its way on board, the veil between realms begins to fray. Old gods of a long dead planet resume their own romantic bickering while ancient magic wreaks havoc across the ship. Grudges resurface, friends turn to enemies, unrequited love turns to passion — or does it? It's kinda hard to tell with everyone at each other's throats.
Gentles, perchance you wonder at this show; but wonder on, till truth make all things plain. Yet We Sleep, We Dream is a romantic space-fantasy inspired by Shakespeare's endearing hot mess, A Midsummer Night's Dream.
“I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was.” — Bottom, A Midsummer Night's Dream
JL Peridot writes love letters to the future on devices from the past. Visit jlperidot.com for the full catalogue of her work or subscribe to Dot Club for a collection of her tiny stories.
1 comment:
I love this excerpt, plot, and the title's great, JL! :)
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