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He wakes up and there’s something he can’t remember. A name.
Jasper’s breath rises faster in his lungs. He can see the familiar rounded cheeks and chin, the all too happy smile, the flop of black hair that would never quite stay out of his eyes…
Monty Green.
Jasper blows out a long breath and lets himself fall back against the ratty bedspread. His fingers clench the sheets before he forces himself to relax, flexing his hands.
Your best friend is Monty Green. Your name is Jasper Jordan. You are real. You are real. You are…
He screws his eyes shut because already that blank emptiness is creeping back up and sinking its talons into his pathetic little brain.
Your best friend is Monty Green. Your name is Jasper Jordan. Your best friend is Monty Green. Your name is Jasper Jordan. You are real. You are real. You are real. You are…
Fuck.
He stands abruptly, blankets rippling softly to the floor behind him. This is clearly an attack that’s not going away quickly or easily. And he needs help.
His fingers are shaking as he dials a private number on his intercom system and waits for the radio channel to tune in properly. Repeating Monty’s name like a mantra in his head.
“Hello?”
The soft familiar voice almost pulls a sob from his throat, but he clenches one fist and pushes it against the wall instead.
“Maya? Hey.”
A beat of silence.
“Hey.” She sounds confused. Sort of sleepy. Shit, he’s waking her up too early.
“Hey,” he says again. He pushes his knuckles into the wall panel a little harder, watching the white sinews strain under his skin. “I need your help again. I’m having a really bad… episode.”
“Episode?” her voice cracks thickly and Jasper forces himself to take a shallow breath.
“Disassociating. Really…. Really bad.”
She breathes slowly, a thin crackly sound that he tries to grasp tightly before it slithers away into that empty void at the edges of his mind.
“I… I can’t even remember…”
Monty Green.
“I’m having trouble remembering Monty’s name.”
She takes so long to answer that Jasper starts to wonder if he really called her. If he’s not talking into unhearing static, simply waiting to fall asleep again.
“Jasper?” She sounds more awake now and Jasper slumps against the wall in relief.
“Yeah. I’m sorry to bother you, I just… You’re the only one left.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, I’m just really out of it,” she murmurs. “I told you to call whenever you needed someone.”
Jasper flattens the palm of his hand against the wall, trying to focus on the biting chill of the metal paneling.
“I… I’m really scared, Maya.”
She takes another long breath, still shaky.
“I think you need to come over here,” she says slowly.
“What?”
“Something is wrong, Jasper. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Something is wrong. That much is true. But when was the last time he went outside? Truly outside? Not just down the hall to the nearest dining center to collect his rations. When was the last time he visited Maya’s apartment? Years ago.
“Jasper, please.” And that little lilt to her words, that bare hint of pleading, leaves him no choice.
“I’ll be right there.” He hits the disconnect before he can change his mind.
He doesn’t bother to do more than throw on a baggy shirt and a pair of old boots. The artificial lights are slightly brighter outside his door, signalling the beginning of the day cycle. The familiar hum of the Ark machinery wraps around him like a security blanket, protecting him from the vast black vacuum outside. A few others from Farm Station are beginning to wander out of their doors, most of them with eyes glazed over as they mechanically head to work.
This is why I stay inside. Suck it, Monty.
He can see his friend’s tightly pressed lips and the slight shake of his head as he takes in the state of Jasper’s bedroom.
You’re right. You’re obviously just overflowing with joy in here.
Jasper stumbles and closes his eyes, reaching out to touch the nearest wall.
Stay grounded. You’re real. He’s real. Maya’s real.
He breathes in deeply through his nose and then shoves off the wall to keep walking.
He hesitates for a few seconds when he reaches the main corridor that he can take down to Factory station. If he turns to his right instead, he could be at Monty and Harper’s home in less than a minute. Just to check and see for himself. To touch Monty’s arm and hear Harper’s laugh and then be on his way.
He turns towards Factory station, feet dragging ever so slightly. He swore off bothering Monty with his bullshit months ago. And Harper was always sympathetic, but she was also expecting a baby.
Meanwhile, Miller had moved in with Jackson up at Alpha station. The complete opposite end of the Ark.
That leaves Maya. The last martyr to suffer his torture.
Jasper passes more people as he winds his way deeper into Factory Station. Mindless drones that all carry the same faraway look. A chill crawls over his skin and he forces himself to move faster, boots tapping a little more forcefully with each step. He desperately wants to close his eyes against the growing brightness of the overhead lights. The edges of his vision burn with a washed out white glow as he lets his eyelids droop a little lower, and lower, and…
“Hey!” the man yells as Jasper bowls him over. They both land hard in the middle of the hall and several passers-by abruptly jump back.
“I’m sorry!” Jasper grunts, trying to roll the man off his legs. Both the irate man and the onlookers seem disproportionately shocked. One woman seems suddenly very pale.
Jasper blinks at her and looks away back to his unintended victim. “Are you okay, man?”
The man scrambles to his feet, poking an elbow unceremoniously in Jasper’s stomach as he does so.
“I’m… yeah… I’m…” he stammers. Jasper slowly stands, trying to keep his breathing steady.
“Sir?”
The man blinks at him a few more times before walking away, seemingly in a daze. The small crowd of onlookers begins to disperse as well, looking just as confused. Jasper makes eye contact with the pale woman.
“Are you okay?” he asks automatically.
She jerks her head up and down mechanically before hurrying away.
Maya. Get to Maya.
He nearly runs the rest of the way, slamming into her door with far more force than necessary.
“Maya! It’s me!”
A quick sound of light footsteps from behind the door and then she’s yanking him inside and slamming the door behind him, all messy black curls and pale, peaked face.
“Jasper, thank God!”
“What is going on?” he whispers. His fingers twitch, aching to reach up and yank at his greasy hair just to feel something.
Maya grabs his hand instead, squeezing it reassuringly. To him or to her or to both, he couldn’t tell.
“I don’t know. Everything is so…” She trails off and squeezes his hand harder until he follows her to her bed so they can both sit on the edge.
“I can’t think right now,” Maya says softly. Her thumb draws gentle circles on the back of Jasper’s hand. “Talk to me?”
“I…. I don’t know either,” Jasper mutters. “I thought it was just me. Just my normal shit, but everyone outside is… weird.”
Maya stares at him, bright eyes searching. And then giving a small nod of encouragement.
He swallows nervously. “It’s like I’m dissociating, but it’s bigger than that. Like everyone is feeling… not real. Walking here, it was like people didn’t even see me.”
“How do you usually do it?” Maya whispers. “Remind yourself that things are real?”
Jasper meets her eyes again in surprise. Her look is sincere. Scared.
“I repeat things to myself a lot,” he says slowly. “Like you taught me.”
She nods slowly again. “Names, right?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name?”
She sounds a little more confident, slipping into a familiar role with him now.
He straightens his spine. “Jasper Jordan.”
“And what’s my name?”
“Maya Vie.” His body relaxes as the familiar grounding ritual seeps into his muddled brain. Maya gives him a weak smile.
“What’s your name?”
Her smile flattens. “What?”
He squeezes her hand again. “Your turn.”
“Maya Vie,” she murmurs lowly.
“And mine?”
She takes a shaky breath, brows furrowed. “Jasper. Jasper Jordan.”
He smiles. “See? It does help.”
She leans her head on his shoulder. “We’re real.”
We’re real.
Maya has enough rations to last forty-eight hours. Although time is relative, right? Jasper doesn’t remember eating half the time anyways. His mind floats in a sea of black waves and speckled stars, anchored only by the regular pulse of Maya’s fingers squeezing his own.
They sleep in fits and starts, huddled together on the bed so they can feel the warm fullness of each other’s limbs. When he wakes up, it’s to stare into Maya’s red-rimmed eyes and feel her puff of breath on his chin.
“Maya Vie,” he whispers.
“Jasper Jordan,” she affirms.
They’re real. But that’s all they know.
“No announcements,” Maya says somewhere in the space between waking and sleeping.
“What?”
She inclines her head towards her wall receiver. “No Ark-wide announcements for the past day and a half. If there was something wrong, wouldn’t we hear about it?”
Jasper licks his lips, trying to think outside of the small safe space and back to the strangeness of the people outside.
“Shouldn’t we be hearing regular Ark announcements anyways?”
Maya’s eyes grow round and she leans back against him. “There has to be an explanation, right?”
Jasper props his chin gently on her head, the scent of her tangled hair washing over him in a wave that chases back the lapping tide of emptiness. “Right.”
He wishes he believed it.
The rations run out. The radios are still silent. Their minds are still caught in a tug of war between dreams and reality, but they have to leave.
Maya opens the door first, Jasper barely a half step behind her. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, he’s grown so used to slotting his fingers through Maya’s. So he shoves them deep into his pockets and concentrates on the back of her head so fiercely he feels fire behind his eyes.
The halls are eerily empty as they make their way towards the dining center. Each step echoes with a soft metallic thump as if the entire Ark is shaking under their movement. They pass open doors revealing empty living quarters. In some cases, there are plates of half-eaten food still resting on tables. Unmade beds with blankets haphazardly falling to the floor. Jackets and boots left in the doorways.
Jasper shudders involuntarily. “Where is everyone?”
Maya hesitates, turning just enough to look back at him, fear glinting in her eyes.
“Are we alone?”
Jasper aches to reach for her and pull her into a hug; for comfort or for his own sanity he doesn’t know. Instead, he bravely steps in front of her and finishes leading the way to the dining center.
The distribution windows are propped open, but the center is empty. As Maya walks towards the bank of windows, Jasper pauses and runs his hand over a table top, a chill seeping into his fingertips. A faint ringing sound plagues his ears as the silence grows heavier.
“Jasper!”
He whips around, heart beating faster. Maya holds up an armful of ration packets.
He blows out a long breath, forcing back the taste of panic. “Well at least we have food, huh?”
Maya joins him by the table and scans the room. “What do you think happened?”
He remembers the vacant stares, the empty faces, the confusion.
“I think they… forgot.”
“What?”
“Like us. We’re fighting it, but it’s like we’re trying to forget. Our minds are making us forget.”
She stares at him, hooded eyes piercing and Jasper squirms a little. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like something is making us feel not real. And if we forget how to be real… well…” He gestures to the empty tables limply.
Maya reaches out and takes his hand and the familiar grip sends a surge of warmth up his arm.
“We’re still real,” she says, voice trembling.
He squeezes her hand. “Yeah. Still real.”
For how long?
He’s been friends with Maya for almost as long as he was friends with Monty. They grew up playing the kinds of make believe games that Ark kids needed to survive a reality of darkness and cold, grey walls. And when they got older, and Jasper’s reality started to blur and buckle, Maya was still there. Always patient. Always kind. His other friends meant well, but even Monty had other distractions in his life. Maya would drop everything and help him through an episode. It was just who she was.
When he wakes up for the umpteenth day in a row, curled against Maya’s side and scrabbling to remember who he is, he can’t help but wonder if that’s what this is. If this is Maya’s way of helping him through the longest and worst episode he’s ever had.
But then her eyes open and there’s always that tired fear lingering at the corners of her mouth as she whispers, “Jasper Jordan?”
“Yeah. Maya Vie.”
She relaxes a little, as she does every morning. “Yeah.”
Getting out of bed is the worst part of the day. For a split second, as he rolls away from the warm press of her body and his legs fall through the cold air, his mind flutters desperately trying to grasp a handhold at the edges of the void. Then his feet hit the floor and he can almost cry in relief because he’s still there and still himself.
They fight away the not-real every minute of the day. Frequently, they do nothing but huddle together on the edge of the bed, fingers intertwined. They whisper stories back and forth to each other about themselves and their friends and all their history, so they don’t forget. Still the emptiness creeps up and laps at the edges of their minds, a relentless tide.
The rations run out again and this time Maya goes out alone.
“I’m scared for you,” she says hesitantly. Jasper can’t meet her eyes, the weight of his brokenness pushing his head down, down, down into the dark.
Even here, on a ghost ship in the dead of space, he is a burden.
“Jasper?” He forces himself to look up into Maya’s wide, wet eyes.
“I want you to take this,” she says. A glint of gold flashes in her hand as she holds out a small medallion dangling from a thin chain. It thumps solidly into the palm of his hand.
“What’s this?”
“A compass. It’s useless here, but it was my dad’s and his dad’s from way back when,” she says.
Jasper rubs his thumb over the worn surface and flips open the small clasp to reveal a lazily spiraling compass face. Around and around the needle went, directionless without the poles to guide it.
“This is yours, Maya,” he says weakly. “Why are you giving it to me?”
“I thought it might help to give you something to focus on,” she says. “While I’m gone.”
Gone. He stares at the spiraling needle with empty eyes.
“I promise I’ll be right back,” she says from a distance. She must leave because he feels her absence as another ripple in the devouring tide beating at his mind.
He rolls himself in blankets and breathes in her scent. “My name is Jasper Jordan. Her name is Maya Vie. My name is Jasper Jordan. Her name is Maya Vie.”
He lets the compass sit comfortably in his hand, a relic of another time and place. A place without vast echoing chambers and cold walls.
Earth. If he closes his eyes he can almost picture it as the history books described it. Green and vibrant and alive and real.
Jasper snaps the compass closed and slings the chain around his neck. Many hours have passed, but beyond that he can’t say anything with certainty. The apartment is still empty and dark. He takes a shaky breath. “Jasper Jordan. Maya Vie.”
The lights in the hallway are dim, still endlessly cycling through the automatic night and day settings. Jasper keeps one hand against the wall and the other wrapped firmly around the compass. Eyes ahead. One foot in front of the other.
Everything is as still and lifeless as the first time they ventured out. In the dimmer light, the open doors are yawning mouths threatening to swallow him whole. He tries not to imagine the feeling of a sucking throat closing around him, yanking him down into a bottomless abyss.
He tightens his fist around the compass. Real and firm and guiding him to Maya.
The dining center is empty.
“Maya?” he ventures, voice raspy from disuse.
The open windows stare back at him mockingly.
“Maya, where are you?”
His voice bounces timidly around the empty corners of the room, magnifying the crippling doubt and fear in the words.
“Jasper Jordan, Maya Vie. Jasper Jordan, Maya Vie,” he murmurs.
A flash of pale skin and dark hair catches the corner of his eye and he spins so fast his feet tangle under him and he falls heavily.
“Maya?”
The corridor is empty. Jasper sucks in a deep breath and gathers his feet under him to stand.
Another flicker of color and movement on his other side almost makes him jump out of his skin. He backpedals across the floor, lanky limbs flailing and heart beating in his throat.
“Hello?” he manages to squeak.
A ghost-like visage floats across his field of view, completely human-like except for the fact that he can see straight through it to the bank of distribution windows. Two steps and the ghost flickers completely out of being.
Jasper clenches the compass so tight that it hurts. “Holy shit…”
Another being flickers into view, hovering curiously over him. He whimpers as the woman bends to examine him, mere inches from his face before she vanishes into thin air.
“Shit, shit, shit…” He thinks vaguely that he should recite names and facts, but he’s too busy scrambling to his feet and darting from the room. The flickers pop in and out of his view as he sprints back down the hall, dim reflections of the people who used to wander to and fro. A ghost appears in front of him and before he can stop he runs clean through the man. There’s no sensation as he passes through the figure, no coldness or mist. Jasper tumbles to his knees and looks back over his shoulder. The hallway is empty again.
His hands shake as he shoves himself upright again.
What the fuck?
“Jasper!”
Maya collides with him, running too fast to stop herself. Her breath comes in sharp pants as she pats at his arms, maybe reassuring herself that he’s real.
“Did you see them?”
“What?”
Jasper looks over her shoulder again, but this time nothing flickers to life.
“The people. I saw them, Maya!”
“You did?” she pulls back looking hopeful, even through her fear. Jasper’s heart jumps into his throat again.
“No, not… not for real.” Her gaze darkens again, hope snuffed out and he hates himself a little more for that.
“I saw… they’re almost like ghosts.”
“Ghosts?” She sounds incredulous and he would be too if it was the other way around so he can’t blame her.
“I saw these visions… or reflections of people… or something!” He flings his arms up in frustration, weaving his fingers through his hair. The compass bounces off his chest.
Maya reaches up and touches it gently and then wraps herself around him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. “Hey. I’m here now,” she says. “I’m here.”
He melts a little into the embrace, relishing the feel of her hair brushing against his cheek. “Yeah. I know.”
“I’m sorry it took me so long. I wanted to make sure we had enough food for a while.”
“It’s okay,” Jasper says. “I’m just glad…”
You’re real.
“...you’re okay.”
She smiles, but it never quite reaches her eyes.
They forget time. It’s not one of the important things to hold onto. They remember themselves and how to be real. They remember food and drink and stories.
Jasper watches his fingers and toes, afraid to see them dissolving away into the world of ghosts, but he stays solid. Maya’s voice grounds him, her smile, the touch of her hands.
The compass hangs around his neck for the days when she goes out to collect food. He watches the needle spin and he recites their names in a breathless creed.
He wakes up curled into Maya’s side and watches her sleep; the way her side moves up and down with each breath and the slight curl and purse of her lips. Her eyelids flutter gently and he wonders if she’s dreaming about a world that doesn’t exist anymore. He watches her to make sure she’s real and he’s real, but today is different. Today he notices the perfect tip of her nose and how the curve of her cheek fits perfectly into the palm of his hand. He notices the dip in her neck and wonders if he could reach out and trace it, for no reason at all.
Then she opens her eyes and stares at him and it hits him like a ton of bricks.
He loves Maya Vie.
With every breath of his being.
Her breath ghosts across his chin as she whispers, “Jasper Jordan?”
He kisses her and it must be answer enough because she doesn’t ask him anything else. She slots her body against his own and she’s warm and real and his, his, his, his.
He loves Maya Vie and it’s enough to keep him grounded, but not enough to keep them safe. Not when he sees the flickers of the not-real passing by every time she opens the door. Not when she doesn’t see them and that makes him wonder which one of them is closer to tipping into the void.
It takes time, but he slowly gathers the pieces to the puzzle. A beaten up escape pod. Old manuals and blueprints from his dad’s workshop. Parts collected from now abandoned engineering projects of a caliber that went way over his head.
Maya’s face grows more peaked and fearful with every passing hour. The grasp of her hands is desperate and longing. The taste of her mouth is fleeting sweetness in the night. A drop of joy against an ocean of fear.
When he reveals the finished escape pod, Maya clutches at his arm, fingers trembling.
“You can’t be serious. Earth?” Her voice shakes, sending ripples of doubt through his head. He wraps one arm around her, steadying them both.
“We need to escape,” he says slowly. Surely. “We need to escape before we give in.”
He can feel dozens of flickering eyes on them, but he refuses to turn around.
“Maya, please. I can’t lose you. I need to keep you safe.”
“Earth isn’t safe, Jasper. We don’t even know what’s down there!”
“But we know what isn’t here.”
She hesitates. Reluctantly she looks over the pod, asking him questions about safety and landing gear. She goes through the packs of rations and first aid. She sits with her head in her hands for a very long time, just breathing and being.
Jasper waits.
Finally, Maya looks up at him, gnawing at her lip. “You want to keep me safe?”
“That’s all I want,” he says simply.
She firms her chin. “Okay, then. We’ll go.”
They go through her room one more time making sure they’re not forgetting anything. Jasper grasps the compass with a thrill, wondering if the needle will finally stop spinning soon.
The flickers watch them impassively as they walk down to the lower level and climb into the escape pod. The not-real thrashes at the edges of his mind, but Jasper shuts the door and the pod drops.
Empty space.
Falling.
Down, down, down.
Forever.
Maya screams and Jasper blinks and fires the thrusters.
White-hot.
Shaking.
Burning.
He wakes up with Maya’s smiling face over him and the light filtering in through the warped door and he knows before she says anything that they made it.
We made it.
“Jasper Jordan?” she asks shakily.
He smiles and reaches for her face, feels her warmth.
“Maya Jordan?” he asks.
She laughs and cries and kisses him again and again and again.
Earth is green and growing, just like Jasper imagined. They build a shelter to sleep in and they sit in the grass breathing in the scent of Earth. It fills the empty corners of their minds with a different sort of growing. Something that is light and warm and creeps over the bad memories.
They lay down to sleep, pressed against each other and Jasper isn’t afraid to close his eyes. The Earth is solid under his back. Maya curls into his side and her breath is warm on his neck.
Sleep tugs at him as he reaches to his neck to unclasp the compass. He never checked to see if the needle stopped spinning. To see if it’s real. He just needs to keep his eyes open a second longer.
He wakes up and there’s something he can’t remember.