(I started this a little while ago after reading 'Out of the Silent Planet' by CS Lewis. Not sure what to call it just yet, any suggestions would be welcome).
Pagan had never thought space was cold and dark. Yes space was cold, bitter cold. Yes the darkness seemed endless, even with the stars. But space held something more, something close to an addiction to Pagan, the promise of more. People, smart people, talked endlessly of the slow descent to madness that plagues all long term space crews. Whole ships of hundreds of people had been destroyed by the madness of one of their fellows.
Pagan traveled alone, deep out where others did not go. He would spend months out among the stars, traveling from one planet to the next. No one thought he was crazy, unless he let it slip he was a space pilot, which he was smart enough not to. For Pagan the stars and void were his closest friends, his sanity, his home. Pagan had been born out among the stars, maybe that was the reason he found them so comforting. But he was sure that in reality it had more to do with the sheer beauty of space around him. Whether it was the gas clouds off the Androbiline quadrant or the ghost moon of the planet someone with a good sense of humor (or a old English degree) had dubbed Hamlet, there was a beauty that sadness could not ruin. A beauty that madness could not compete with.
Pagan was sure that he would be forever content traveling from star port to star port. He was not mad, he was a modern Hermit, or a mountain man, a lone Indian, or a cowboy, or just a simple man who was in love with space. He hated sharing space with anyone else. He knew others traveled as much as he did. Others that fearfully moved to new planets with the hope of a better life. For others space not the goal, but merely what you traveled through. For Pagan space was the destination. Any space port was simply for refueling and getting odd jobs to pay for him going back up into space.
Big Town's space port, was the opposite of what the name suggested. The town, nor the planet for that matter, had reached the size that the original pioneers had dreamed of. The space port was hardly a port and more of a landing pad with a fuel tank. Of all the space ports Pagan went to, this was his favorite. There was a two fold reason for this, first it was small and second he made a lot of money by stopping there every once in a while. For despite (or prehaps because of) Big Town's smallness and the almost non-existant space port, Big Town had become a haven for crime. Not petty crime and normally not grusome crime, but Big Town hid one of the largest gangsters of the galaxy, and Father Mike loved Pagan.
Everyone else was sure that Father Mike was the Saint he looked like. And Pagan knew that Father Mike thought him insane. Most people thought he was simply because of his trade. However, together they had managed to do some very dubious work, make tons of cash, and most importantly never get caught. When Pagan needed cash and fuel to continue his space travels he would normally come to Father Mike and Mike was happy to help.
It must have been a Sunday when he landed. It was the only reason the town would be so empty, and that the pub would be closed. Pagan never kept track of the days of the week, it was nearly impossible while in space. He now begrudged the fact that he would be stuck, grounded for at least one day longer then necessary. Father Mike would be at the church, preaching, keeping the mask, that made others so sure of his sainthood, well in place. Pagan hated church, hated the institution. Father Mike often told him he should come. Pagan often refused. Pagan worshiped the stars and the gas clouds and the ghost moon. Today he decided to make an exception.
So depressed Pagan turned from the empty pub and walked down the street towards the Church. Dust and smog blew through the wide streets that had been built for a time when more people would live in Big Town. More people who would never come. And yet as Pagan sneaked into the back of the church, he found that there were a lot of people he did not recognize. Father Mike was just winding down from what Pagan was sure had been a fiery sermon. Mike had not seen him. Pagan counted this a blessing. Together the congregation rose with the swelling of the electric organ. It was played by a very pretty red haired girl Pagan was sure was someone he should remember. Pagan sat and watched from the shadows. While the people sang and prayed, stood and sat and kneeled. As Father Mike bellowed out prayers. Then suddenly it was over. The people stood and suffled out, some giving him a weird look, others ignoring him.
"James, how good to see you!" Father Mike, young and handsome and fiery as ever. Pagan offered his hand, "Father Mike"
"Have you met Alex?" He turned and Pagan saw the young red haired girl, blush and offer him her had. Pagan felt a strange stir in his heart. She was too young, too beautiful.
"Alex, No, nice to meet you"
"You too" She added again blushing. Pagan liked her blushes.
Later Pagan would realize that Mike had always wanted to ground him, always wanted to take away his space. Fucking Father Mike actually being a saint and saving him from what he was sure was madness. But right now, right now Pagan was totally falling for the Blushing red haired Alex.
Father Mike lead the way out of the church and around to his tiny house next door. Alex followed, shy and blushing every time Pagan looked her way. Once they were inside Alex fled up the stairs to what Pagan gathered was her bedroom. He watched as her red hair streamed after her. Father Mike was leading the way to his office. Pagan reluctantly followed.
"Now James tell me how have you been?" Father Mike sat in the same large leather chair he always did.
"Pagan, Father, how many times have I had to tell you that?"
"As many times as I've had to tell you its just Mike" They laughed. But Mike's eyes were serious.
"Kenny tells me that you have been talking traveling to the ghost moon again."
"Who's Kenny?" Mike smiled, in a slightly condescending way and indicated behind Pagan. Pagan looked and recognized a man he felt he should know. Pagan stood and walked toward Kenny.
"And when did you hear that I was planning this trip. Surely not the last time I was down here?, I have not been here for three months." Pagan wondered if he could take on the said Kenny. Obviously this was Father Mike's new muscle.
"Now James" Pagan let it slide, "why don't you sit down" Father Mike was smiling, but it did not reach his eyes. "I had not realized you had been gone so long. Were have you been?"
"To the gas clouds again, its just so beautiful" Again Father Mike smiled.
Pagan felt the smile growing and realized he did not like Father Mike. Kenny pushed him towards the chair, and made him sit. Pagan glared at him, there was no way that he would be able to take on Kenny.
"James why do we keep having to do this?" Father Mike sounded tired this time.
"What do you mean, this is what we do." Pagan was getting tired of being called James.
"You have been living in Space so long have you forgotten that it is not real? That we don't have the ability yet to travel to the stars?"
"What are you talking about?"Pagan could not believe it. Father Mike actually believed that he was insane. That after all he had done for him, that Pagan was mad. Could he have gone mad and not realized it? Hardly. Mike was obviously delusional.
"James we have gone over all this before. You live in this institution because your family could not keep you, you were becoming too violent. That was your daughter, Alex. You've met her before. And you love her because she reminds you of your wife."
"It Pagan"
"James Peter Miller, you are going on 45. Your daughter comes and plays piano ever Sunday for you, and ever Sunday you act as though you have never met her. This has to end."
"Father Mike"
"Mike" Mike smiled was gone, he looked tired "Or you can call me Dr. Mike, but I am not a father."
"Mike" Pagan hated giving in, but he needed to say what he was here to say. "Mike I'm not insane, or crazy, or mad. I know a lot of other piliots go mad in space, but not me. I like it out there."
"James, you have never been in space, its all in your head." Mike shook his head. "Your daughter needs you James. Can you snap out of this?"
"No" Pagan felt attached, this could not be right, could not be true. He stood and fought of Kenny. Daughter he could not have a daughter.
"Dad?" Alex was standing behind him silently crying. Pagan turned toward her, he could not stand her tears.
"Don't cry hunny, it will be alright." James hugged her close to himself and she sobbed into his shoulder. "Thank you Dr. Mike, Thank you."
Pagan had never thought space was cold and dark. Yes space was cold, bitter cold. Yes the darkness seemed endless, even with the stars. But space held something more, something close to an addiction to Pagan, the promise of more.
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