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> Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn't go away.
> —Philip K. Dick
>
> I wasn't able to register my car for '65, and the Highway Patrol gave me two citations, which, if I can’t pay — as well as registering my car and fixing the muffler — I'm going to be jailed on April 7th. [...] If something extremely good happens you can reach me by phone again: not my own, since the Bell people took it away, but my girl's phone.
> —Philip K. Dick
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Arc 1: "Coming & Going"
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The wide, wild galaxy, Philomena thought.
The great, big brush stroke of the galactic disc arced across outer space. Stars twinkled around it like glitter fallen from wet bristles. The glorious cosmic view painted a suitably epic backdrop behind the reflection of her face hovering in her space suit's visor. From her point of view, her face seemed as large as the galaxy itself — if not larger.
I'm going to be the greatest businesswoman in history, and one day I'm going to own this place from rim to rim!
The bold statement boomed loudly inside her head, filling the vast cosmos with the sound of her own voice.
The suit's magnetic boots anchored her to the starship's hull. Its idle engines vibrated up her legs and shook her stomach, which already churned with excitement at the grand destiny spread out in front of her. Restless and eager to venture into the unknown, her reflection beamed like a sun.
Then the starship lurched under her feet.
Philomena's smile flipped around into a slack-jawed gawk.
Huh?
The engines flared up and kicked the ship forward. The movement made her body lean backwards. As she rocked on her heels, she thrust her arms up. There was a button on her suit's wrist control panel that'd lock the magnetic boots in place.
If only she could reach it in time …!
But she brought her finger down a split-second too late. Right before she hit the button, her toes tripped the sensors in her boots. The stupid space suit thought she wanted to take a step forward. Both of the boots demagnetized. All of a sudden, the rumble coming up through her soles stopped. She was severed from everything else. Slowly, she fell away from the moving starship.
She had tuned her breathing out. But now, as it quickened, it became very loud in her ears.
At least I attached my safety line!
Then she hit the end of the safety line and the clip popped right open. She drifted away, untethered. The line spiraled as it trailed behind the starship. Its engines glowed with eye-searing blue-purple light. It was getting ready to rocket through space without her.
"Ah, ah, ahhh!" she yelped.
In a panic, she threw herself forward to grab the hull, but it was well beyond her reach now. The sudden movement made her spin around her stomach. Twirling freely, she lost sight of the ship and stared at empty space. Every panicky gasp fogged the faceplate up. She suddenly realized how precious oxygen was out here. There was none of it, absolutely none of it, in the enormous void of space. All she had were a few pathetic lungfuls stored inside her suit, and it wasn't nearly enough, not by a longshot.
A few short seconds ago, the universe seemed like a challenge to be conquered.
Now …
Faced with the thought of drifting endlessly in the vast void …
She felt so unimaginably small, and it was the worst feeling ever.
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Her corpse rotting inside this tiny space suit, drifting for millions of years, never to be found again …
No, I'm not going to die! Not now, not ever!
She raised her arm. It remained still while the stars spun past behind it. The aged buttons on the wrist control panel had faded labels on them. She mashed the one that opened a channel to the flight deck. The instant it connected, she yelled into the microphone inside her helmet.
"What are you doing, you idiot?! I'm out here!"
The channel remained silent for a moment.
Then, a deep, growling voice filled her ears.
"Where?"
"Outside the ship!"
"Why are you outside the ship?"
The voice on the other end of the line wasn't made for human speech. He spat out every syllable like a vicious, barking dog. But despite how scary he sounded — and looked — Philomena had gotten used to him, so it didn't bother her anymore.
"I was …"
She trailed off and stared at the spinning stars for ideas. As she rotated, the ship revolved into view again. It'd stopped moving, though her body was still tumbling away from it.
"… having a moment. Thinking deep thoughts."
"You? 'Deep … thoughts'?"
She kept rotating, and the ship disappeared from view.
"Would you turn the ship around and pick me up, you … you big giant hairball?!"
The line went silent. It lasted long enough that the ship rotated back into view.
"Rsh?!" Philomena shouted at the hull. "Answer me!"
He purred, "Hmm …"
She threw her arms and legs out, trying to punch and kick him. But the void between them was too large. She continued to spin and the ship left her view again. There wasn't any ground up in outer space. Nothing to put your feet on, nothing to grab hold of. Human beings weren't meant to exist out here, they just weren't built for it … She couldn't do anything, anything, to save herself, except yell into the mic.
"Get over here and pick me up!"
Again, he purred, "HMMM."
Her pride and her poise as a businesswoman scattered on the solar winds. Tumbling head over heels through space, she thrashed like a newborn. A helpless baby, unable to do anything, totally relying on those around her to help her survive.
And she hated every second of it.
"Pleeeeeeeeease!" she wailed.
Rsh sighed like he was doing her the biggest favor ever.
"Remain where you are," he said matter-of-factly.
"Ha ha, very funny!"
As she spun to face the ship, it fired its engines and jetted forward, then rose up to make an about-face. She lost sight of it again. With no sound and nothing to catch the light, she had no way of knowing it was still there. The damned thing might as well not even exist.
All she had was her own pretty face, stripped of confidence and marred by a deep frown, staring back at her.
And I had such a good feeling about things …
But now, here I am, tumbling through outer space. Spinning in the void, spinning endlessly, spinning and spinning …
… and spinning …
A dizzy spell made her head swirl like a pulsar. As it threw her for a loop, a sour sting stabbed her gut.
Oh.
Oh, no.
As the sour, chunky flood overflowed her stomach and surged upward, she gulped as hard as she could to drive it back down.
"Rsh," she said, choked.
He barked, "I will be there … shortly."
But the acid taste was boiling inside her stomach, and if she spun around one more time …
"Hurry," she gasped. Her sickly breath filled her helmet. "I'm about to—!"
And then, like exhaust from an engine, a plume of burning liquid shot up her throat, filled her mouth with acid and exploded out of her lips. She threw her hands up to cover her mouth, but they just thumped against the helmet.
"HURGGGG—!"
As the ship inched toward her, the vomit struck her faceplate and covered it up, then bounced back and splashed all over her face.
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