Debatable Space

Flanagan

When we reach Illyria we float the merchant Captain off in a lifepod. It seems a harmless enough act of charity. Then we carry on, for three more subjective years, until we reach Debatable Space. Our sanctuary.

No Corporation warships ever penetrate in here. They are too afraid, their spirit is sapped by the myth of the Bugs.

Lena is visibly nervous.

“You’re superstitious, aren’t you?” I say mockingly to her.

“I’m not.”

“Black cats. What do they symbolise to you?”

“Evil.”

“Would you stroke one?”

“Never.”

“Double stars. Would you live on a planet that circles a double star?”

“There are radiation issues.”

“Would you?”

“Double stars can split a personality. They can sunder your id from your ego, your psyche from your soul. No human born under a double star can ever be sexually faithful.”

“Rubbish.”

“It’s true.”

“Are you sexually faithful?”

“I was, once. But I’ve never lived under a double star.”

“You’re a baby. You’re spooked by Debatable Space. You don’t trust your son’s own scientists.”

“You fucking infant. You weren’t even alive when we found the Bugs.”

“They’re trapped. They’re encased in walls surrounded by walls surrounded by walls. But you’re scared, in case the bogeyman might creep out.”

“Walls can have holes. Some Bugs might escape.”

“Then they would escape all the way through Inhabited Space. You believe in auras, don’t you? You’re afraid the Bug Aura can reach out and touch your mind?”

“I do, in fact, believe in auras.”

“Tosh. There are no auras. Auras are bogus science, pure superstition. “

“If I am within ten feet of a person, that person’s soul can touch mine. It’s a documented fact.”

“It’s a discredited documented fact.”

“It’s a fact I believed in before it was discredited. Old opinions die hard!”

“You’re a victim of your stupid, ingrained, indelible fucking prejudices, aren’t you?”

“This place spooks me.”

“It’s where we live.”