Illion

I can smell her perfume before I see her. Coconut and roses, and something else. Maybe vanilla. No, definitely vanilla.

Aurelia grabs my shoulders from behind as I stand at the bar, “good evening, Captain.” Her voice laughs in my ear, “long time no see.”

“It’s only been twelve hours.”

“Really? It felt longer.”

It did feel longer.

I smooth my suit out as best I can and turn to face her with a composed expression.

She hasn’t left my mind all day. Not when I was working on the engines or fixing wires on the lower decks. Not even when I was watching the monitor for Zyxien ships (which we are still ahead of – for the moment).

I’m sick and dizzy thinking about her at all, and now she’s in front of me wearing a frilly yellow dress and matching butterfly pins in her braids.

Maybe this was a mistake.

“Sorry about the lipgloss message earlier.” She says awkwardly, “Enea stole my phone and wrote it, I…uh…”

“It was a bit of a surprise.” I smile nonchalantly, “but it’s alright; I don’t mind. I’ve seen worse.”

I do mind. I do mind a lot. I found my lip balm from pre-cryosleep hidden behind the bedframe, just because she asked me to bring it. It’s tucked in my suit pocket, but now-! Now it’s pointless.

Maybe I should be relieved, but my stomach has dropped to my feet.

This morning, when she hugged me, it felt like I meant something to someone. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe she just wants to keep me alive, so the ship doesn’t crash into an asteroid. Honestly, fair enough.

“How was your shift?” Aurelia adds quickly.

Shift was busy. I spent most of the day monitoring the Zyxien ships chasing after us.

And then there were screaming passengers on floor three, because some idiotic teenager decided to visit the off-limit zones (again) and got squashed by the giant marble attraction which doesn’t work properly yet (they need to bring back the Darwin awards). All of the family members were screaming at me like it’s my fault, as if it’s my duty to stop evolution.

Excuse me, darlings, but that’s not in my job description.

I had to take twenty milkshakes with amphetamines just to have enough energy to deal with the threat of lawsuits. The last time I got sued, it ended badly. Not again. I can’t have it happen again.

“Shift? Oh, it was peachy.” I smile my winning smile, “thank you for asking, how was yours?”

“Illion.” She sighs, and her expression melts into what I can only call disappointment. “Stop lying to me. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m not lying.” I lie. “It’s against my morals.”

“Fine. So…uh, do you want to do this tour? I heard from Lolli-N we have a few hours before The Marillion opens the newest sector on floor two.”

“Right.” I nod and shove my glasses up back properly, then turn on my heel in the opposite direction, “this way.”

“What’s in this section?” Aurelia catches up to me as I speed walk to the elevator, “is it dangerous?”

“Not…. particularly.” I shrug, slamming my hand on the captain’s button in the elevator. It glows green at my handprint, and then I press the button for floor two. “Just stay with me and you should make it out in one piece. Unless you decide to play tag with a panther in room 47.”

“A panther?”

“Correct.” I tip my glasses at her and wink.

“Oh, gods. I’m going to die, aren’t I?”

“Yes! What a silly question,” I laugh, “we’re both going to die.”

And quite soon too.

Should I tell her…?

But the bell dings before I can say another word. The elevator stops at the second floor, and the metal doors grind open.

A circular room of flowers stretches out in front of us. The walls depict a pastel scene of a cartoon farmyard, and in the top left corner of the room, it bends, creating a narrow tunnel to the next section.

The sweet scent of dahlias seeps into my nostrils when I breathe in. After the other flower room got destroyed in decompression to blast all the cybernetics, I wanted to create a replica.

Thankfully, our terraforming kit, albeit outdated, still works wonders! As it should. I made it myself after all.

“What are these?” Aurelia murmurs as we step out of the elevator. She grabs my right arm tightly, as if she’s afraid that letting go will result in a monster appearing out of nowhere and eat her – which is a valid concern on this floor.

“Dahlias.” I bend down to pick a white one by the stem, “haven’t you seen these before?”

“No. We have trading restrictions. We only have like four types of flowers on Osticara…. I meant, we had.”

“No dahlias?” I say it again in disbelief, “really?”

“Just roses, tulips, daisies and lilies.”

“Then take this.” I lean over to pin the flower in the butterfly clip on the side of her head. “A dahlia. Courtesy of The Marillion.”

“It’s very pretty,” Aurelia smiles, looking down at the ground, “thank you.”

“A pretty flower for a breathtaking woman.” I point towards the tunnel at the back, illuminated by amaranthine sconces. “This way to the mall.”

“The mall? I thought there were only two on the Marillion, and those are on the upper floors.”

“There was a third.” Before the lawsuit, that is. Now it’s just an empty mall, and the shops have been converted into workstations and storerooms. “It’s out of bounds for the general public, but I’m making an exception.”

“How kind of you.”

“Truly!” I pull her hand off my arm and lace our fingers together instead. “Maybe this should count as a honeymoon.”

“Illion-!” She exclaims with a laugh, and I tug her after me, down the white hall with purple neon lights, until we emerge from beneath a balcony, into the mall.

On either side of us are escalators covered in flowering vines, spilling down onto the tiled floor. Neon signs light up from every angle, in every shop front. Some are in the shape of blue waves, other pink lollipops, even more like golden stars.

There is a fountain statue of an astronaut in the centre of the floor, gurgling crystalline water into a pool of mosaic. It reminds me of myself. Tall, and ruggedly handsome. (Lolli-N might disagree, but she’s a robot; what does she know?).

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

A soft tune echoes through the loudspeakers. I chose it myself. I made this whole playlist, actually, so Aurelia had better like it.

But she doesn’t seem to notice. Her head is tilted upwards, staring at the view of the galaxy through the glass ceiling.

“It’s gorgeous.” She whispers, “this whole place is gorgeous, but that…”

I look upwards too, and take in the wispy hues of glittering fuchsia, beryl and aquamarine. The Glysse galaxy has almost no competitors in terms of beauty. Almost.

“We can stay in the mall, or…” I let it hang enticingly in the air.

“Or?” She turns to face me; indigo eyes full of curiosity, “or what?”

“There’s a secret observatory if you want to see the stars better.”

“Hell yeah!”

“Right this way then, honeypop.” I bow elegantly, and promptly drag her after me again, around the fountain, up the nearest escalator.

“Illion, chill out, good gods. I don’t want to twist my ankle! We’re practically going at Mach 8!”

“Darling, if we were going at Mach 8 we’d both be dead.”

I race to the end of the hallway, with Aurelia close behind. There’s a maintenance door next to a shop of stuffed animals, and it pops open once I scan my hand on the doorknob.

“A secret passage?” Aurelia whispers, peering over my shoulder at the staircase winding up and up and up.

“Not very secret, but yes.”

I step inside and ascend the stairs. My feet stomp against the metal stairs and the sound reverberates through the stairwell.

“Illion, slow down.” Aurelia is climbing up after me, breathing heavily, “why do you go so fast?”

Because we’re going to die soon, and time is of the essence!

“Because it’s fun!” I exclaim, “aren’t you having the most tremendous amount of fun?”

“No! I know you’re high but chill out a bit!”

“We’re both considerably high! Approximately twenty feet above floor two right now!”

“Oh my gods.” She groans, but at last we make it to the top of the stairs, and I push the door open to reveal a circular room with a massive telescope in the middle.

“Welcome to the Big Eye!” I spread my arms out wide and take a second to bask in the calming atmosphere of the place. It’s been untouched since pre-cryosleep, and the air still smells like the old lemon cleaner.

Ah, sweet home.

Aurelia crosses over to the far end of the room.

There’s a curved ‘tunnel’, a few feet deep and several feet high, leading to a glass domed window. She doesn’t even wait to ask me if there’s any danger in sitting that close to a window in a room this old, no! She crawls into the tunnel, and leans against the curved wall, watching the stars and the constellations as the ship passes by.

“What if that window collapses in the pressure change we’ve just created, and you get sucked into outer space?” I ask.

“Don’t be silly, Illion.”

“I’m not being silly. I am very serious. I am always serious.”

She gives me a tired look and averts her attention back to the outside instead of to me (and ignoring me is illegal on The Marillion, I’ll have you know).

I crawl into the curved tunnel next to her and lean against the back of the wall.

Pointing to a collection of blue stars, I whisper seductively in her ear: “that’s the Kiaj belt. The nobles enslave polar bears and use them as horses; apparently, they’re easier to train.”

“That’s just ridiculous.” She scoffs, “as if. I’ve never heard about that in my life!”

“I have proof!” With a ferocity only obtained through my very honour being threatened, I pull out my phone and flick to my photos. There, five years before cryosleep, is an image of me posing with a nobleman and his pet polar bear. I show it to Aurelia, and she concedes her point.

“Like I said,” I say with a smirk, “I’ve been places.”

“How old are you?” Aurelia mutters, “I swear you’ve been to more places than anyone I know combined.”

“How old am I?” I can’t even remember how long I was in cryosleep for. A hundred and twenty years? A hundred and thirty? “Before they froze us….” I say cautiously, “I was thirty-two.”

I think that’s right.

“You’re older than I thought.” She says.

What is that supposed to mean?

“Oh.”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Aurelia adds quickly, “in case you were wondering. But I think my…uh…marriage application said that.”

“It did. It also said a lot about your experience in mechanics. I’m sorry we don’t have any more interesting jobs for you other than a homebot surgeon.”

“It’s fine! The bots are fun, and they love a good gossip.”

“You gossip with homebots?”

“I have quite a few friends now. They’re very interesting creatures – I didn’t realize older models had so much character. In school I was told they were mostly scrap metal.”

“Oh? Didn’t they tell you…?”

“Tell me what?”

“Homebot A3 models and earlier have biomechanical mechanisms.” I raise an eyebrow, “did they not tell you that? It’s what caused the Durocha lawsuit in ‘056.”

Aurelia frowns, “I was told that it was a lawsuit about health and safety after a homebot killed someone.”

“That’s not entirely wrong, but the A3 models and earlier can be considered conscious organisms – not robotic. The Durocha lawsuit brought to light the methods of creating them. Since then, they’ve been called Angelia, but we prefer the term homebot. Less controversy; less questions.” Ah, the lore of the homebots, my favourite past time (not really).

“The Angelia?” Aurelia looks taken aback, “those are a rare species from Q’asitar, not homebots.”

“Correction. They are from Q’asitar, but they are homebots. They were shipped there by the boatful after the Durocha lawsuit. To save face for the manufacturer of course, they covered their tracks well. They always do.”

Aurelia is silent for a while, staring absently at the white curvature of the opposite wall. “I remember reading that the Marillion Dynasty owns the homebot manufacturer.”

A shiver sweeps up my spine, “yes.”

“You know all their dirty laundry, don’t you?” She turns her gaze to me, but for once butterflies aren’t running loose in my stomach from her attention, instead, a heavy feeling settles on my shoulders.

“I know some things, so do most of us. I’m nobody special.”

“You’re Illion of the Marillion. You’re the special one.” A grin breaks out over her face, and she chuckles. “Okay, change of topic. Enea swears I have the smallest fingers she’s ever seen but I’ve seen how nimble you work. Let’s see your hand.”

She holds out her palm for me to take, and I do, lacing our fingers together.

“Okay, Illion, wait, you can’t do that!” She protests, “we have to compare first.”

Smilingly, I keep my hold on her, “I win.”

“It’s not a competition!”

“Isn’t it?” I pull her hand to my side, forcing her closer, “who’s winning now?”

“I have every right to slap you, Illion!” Her other hand is on my shoulder to keep her balance, “and I really shall!”

“Please do.”

But judging by the fact that she’s freed her hand from my grip and is running it under my shirt and up my chest, I hardly doubt she’s going to really slap me.

Her fingers are tracing circles over my skin, and it feels like a million volts of electricity sparking under her touch. I’m pressed against the wall, with Aurelia leaning over me.

She’s so close to me I can feel her warmth; all I want for her is to hug me. Hug me and tell me everything’s going to be alright. Maybe kiss me a little too, maybe on the neck, maybe the lips. Neck kisses, I love that. Apparently, kissing is good for your mental health.

“It’s a shame you’re high.” She muses, “can’t really do anything to you while you’re high.”

“Huh?” I can barely understand a thing she’s saying, other than her hand is on my chest. And she is literally touching me. Does this mean she likes me? I think she must. I think I like her. I think I love her even. Maybe that’s a bit much. What even is love? Am I in love?

Is this warm feeling love? Or am I just really high? I don’t think I drank that many amphetamines. This isn’t drugs. I mean, look at her, look at her beautiful face and her eyes, oh, her eyes... Okay, I definitely like her. Or maybe I’m just tired. Maybe if I had a massive teddy bear, I’d want to hug it as much as I want to hug her.

But ew, kissing a giant teddy bear is repulsive. But her…

“I’m sorry.” Aurelia pulls away slowly, and straightens my shirt back out, “sorry. Don’t give me that look, Illion, you know I can’t legally do anything when you’re high.”

“Legally what?” Either my brain is fried or she’s practically speaking nonsense. “Were you going to kiss me or not?”

“You’re high. I can’t.”

“You can!” I grasp both of her hands tightly, “I’m not incapacitated.”

“Listen here, Illion.” She says firmly, “if you even remember this conversation by tomorrow…if you get off your drugs for a day then we can talk again. But until then…no.”

My soul has officially died. A wave of cold panic washes over me and I let go of her, “Aurelia, I can’t. I can’t go off it. I need it so I can work!”

“Sure.” She sighs, and settles down next to me again, “but I won’t do anything to you while you’re high. I can’t trust that it’s what you actually want.”

“I am fully capable of making decisions while high!” I exclaim, “I’ve run this ship for years and years, and we haven’t crashed once.”

“That’s different. And I’m not budging on this. I’m sorry.” She says apologetically, “but your doctors said to stop drinking those milkshakes too. It’s not good for you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, but I trust the doctors, and Lolli-N, and that massive bruise on your arm speaks for itself.”

She doesn’t understand. No one understands. How could I expect them to?

Without amphetamines I don’t know how long I could stand. Would I still be alive? Probably not. And I’m not the same without it; will she even like me? Probably not.

She’ll never want to hug me again. Ever.

But she doesn’t have a test to see if I’m high or not. All I have to do is act a bit different. She won’t know.

“That’s fair, Aurelia. I won’t argue. I suppose I’ll go off the amphetamines.”

She smiles gently and moves closer to me, leaning on my shoulder as she gazes at the nebula rushing past the window in a flurry of colour.

“When I’m sober tomorrow, I can draft up a legal document about consent.” I mutter presently, “that should clear up any concerns you have.”

“I just want to see you. The real Illion. Not…high Illion.”

“What’s wrong with me now?” My voice breaks, and I wince. Aurelia pretends as if she didn’t notice.

“I like you now, but I don’t just want to know your…I want to know all of you.”

“You really don’t.”

“Why don’t you let me decide?”

“You really don’t want to see me sober.”

“Why?”

I don’t answer. Why does she need to know? She doesn’t. And she won’t know. I won’t let her. I can’t let her.

“We have early shifts tomorrow.” I say after a minute of silence, “let’s go back.”

“Okay.”

We walk back together in silence and when we get back to my room and settle down in bed, Aurelia wraps her arms around me from behind and presses her face against my neck.

“Illion. I’m here for you.” She mutters, “I won’t let you down.”

I wish I could believe her.