There is the strangest sensation of amnesia I feel when I wake. The world comes into focus slow — a computer taking too long to process new data.

​

"Hey, you okay? You look a bit pale." Grey hair, tan skin. Silver linings and sunshine. Blue, blue eyes. The ocean from outer space. 

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Who are you? 

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Who am I?

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The air is stale. Processed oxygen. The room is bleach and steel. Soap, salt and solar flares. My skin feels tight, like I don’t fit in my body. If I’m not careful it’ll tear at the seams. 

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"Skylar?"

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That must be me.

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‘My head hurts,’ I say. "Could you get me something to drink?"

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A single grey eyebrow raises. What is that? Confusion, concern. 

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"Didn’t you just come from the caf?"

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I don’t know. Did I? I rub at my temples.

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"Did you eat one of those powdered meals again?" the stranger asks. "I told you not to."

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‘Sorry.’

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The second eyebrow raises. Wrong answer. "Um. I’ll get you a couple of O2 orbs. Why don’t you… sit at your station or something before you keel over."

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Glass doors slide open and close. I’m alone for 56.8 seconds. Enough time to walk one round of the room. Technical support or engineering. The room is designed for a team of half a dozen, but there are currently two of us on shift. Skeleton staff? Graveyard shift? 

​

The station by the window is the only one with a jacket on the seat. Is it mine? There’s a neon pink sticker on the volume dial. ALL I NEED IS SPACE and a crescent moon beneath. Did I put that there? Is space all I need?

​

The doors reopen and there’s new data. A familiar face and an alien one. Orange hair and pale skin. A ghost on fire. Freckles across the bridge of a button nose. Stardust. A single brown eye with two irises. A planet with two moons.

​

"Soz m’late." The newcomer presses red lips together before curling them up into a smile. Stark against pure white, like blood on snow. "Break-bar was closed. Snez ya, Cho, bringing Sky orbs but skimming me.’"

​

"You can get your own, Rion," the first one — Cho — says. I’m offered three clear balls filled with liquid. They don’t fit into the palm of one hand. I’m forced to leave two on the control panel. It’s impractical, this body. 

​

Blue eyes meet mine. The ocean from outer space.

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I pop an orb into my mouth, biting down. Water floods my mouth, my eyes fluttering close. For a moment, I can imagine it’s the sweetness of blood. I chew on the thin skin of the orb and pretend it’s flesh.

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A cool hand presses against my forehead. "Seriously, Skylar, you okay?"

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"Yeah." I offer a smile. Pink blossoms on Cho’s cheeks and the hand withdraws. Discomfort? No. Embarrassment. Why? 

 

"T’was supes creep in the caf," the other one — Rion — says, loud. "Kids from maintenance weren’t even there. We miss a memo or summin’?"

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You should head to the deck to find out," Cho says. "Drop Skylar off at medical."

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How would I — Skylar — respond? Argue. Complain. But humans act different when they’re ill, don’t they? I rub a hand over my face. They run so warm, these bodies. Thirty-seven degrees is enough to melt ice.

​

"Whassup, S?" Rion frowns. "Nev seen ya this gone. Wan’ me to take ya to medical? Get ya checked?"

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"I’m fine," I say, getting to my feet and letting a knee give way. Cho catches me before I fall, arms going around my waist. I’m a deadweight, clutching at trembling arms. For creatures so fragile, humans sure are eager to support each other at the risk of their own injury.

​

"Sorry," I say, focusing my gaze on the middle distance. Cho’s eyes are dark, clouded over. A storm in outer space. I think of thunder and how these bodies can be torn apart with ease. ‘Maybe I should go to medical,’ I say. ‘Head hurts.’

 

Cho’s lips part — 

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"I’ll take ya’," Rion says, voice sharp. A pale arm comes and wraps around my shoulder. Cho steps away, cheeks flushed even while we’re leaving the room.

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"Shouldn’t do that, S," Rion says, tone thin. A ghost on fire. "Know ya sick, but that ain’t right."

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"What do you mean?" I ask. 

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Rion’s eye narrows. "Ya know what I mean."

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I don’t, but I’ll figure it out. I’ve always been quick on my feet, even in new boots.

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"Can ya walk fine?"

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"Yeah," I reply. My skin still feels tight, but new bodies always take a while to break in.