Fairy Tale

by Pil Lee

First, he was eviscerated.

He was dimly aware of his lieutenant’s voice as they locked her out.

“Gordon”, she cried. “Stop, Gordon. Jesus Christ.” She was sobbing. “Jesus!” The door seal hissed. Her voice was gone.

Silence. He lay on the table as they moved about around him. He held fast to the eyes of the Other who loved him, as he loved her.

“I love you,” he breathed to her. Waited for her reply.

She gave him what he thought of as her female look, the face that had helped him decide on her gender. This was followed by what he classified as her questioning look. And then her love look.

He closed his eyes for a second, savouring that look, before he opened them again, seeking her face as the hands above him sorted his organs; seared his lungs; withered his heart.

She had moved around the table, he realised. He had to concentrate again before he isolated her among them. Yes, that was his love. He smiled at her again, willing his mind to focus on that unearthly, Other face, as the hands emptied his human gut.

He replayed in his mind the first moment he had seen her, a ghostly figure through a porthole as his ship passed by. She was floating unprotected, unclothed, among the stars, surrounded by a huge cloud of like figures. Her face, he thought. Clung to that first vision. Her face.

Their skin was an organ like his own, but had evolved to process the light of the cosmos as if it was air and food and water. A pulsing, constantly working organism that surrounded, protected and nourished. Here, by a huge sun, the skin roiled and undulated, shimmering sensuously as it stockpiled for journeys through cooler, darker regions.

His mind skittered away from the things he would miss. His home and friends forever apart, taste and touch and all the functions of life ripped away. He didn’t know if she understood his sacrifice. And, he realised, he didn’t care. Just to stay with her, in her world, would be enough. The love in her look told him they would be together. He could see it. Forever.

Now they carried him with them through the corridors. He didn’t attempt to move, didn’t dare look down at himself. They crowded behind the final door.

Beyond the airlock, black, empty space awaited them. Sudden, blinding terror suffocated him. He tried to grimace, or smile, towards the Other, but the muscles of his face were motionless with fear. The airlock opened, and suddenly he was

Out there. Naked, human, Other. With her.

He turned in the light of a new sun, hot against his cheeks, just warm against his body. The Other pushed him, lightly, and he rotated with glacial slowness, eyes fixed on his beloved’s face. He saw the look of questioning, and nodded back. Every movement was knives against his skin; razors throughout the cavity inside. He nodded again. Then, with the greatest effort, he smiled. He had room enough inside to hold the screams.