Cold Metal

Posted on 30-10-2026 | Last edited on 30-10-2026

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The station’s always cold. And not just because the people who designed the life support systems were apparently unaware what ‘room temperature’ means. It’s the station’s nature, the thin layer of metal separating us from the vacuum of space. Even if they’d turn the heating up, there’d be a nagging feeling, a coldness, from knowing how close you are at any given moment to absolute zero, to an instant which turns instantly into forever.

The lights come on, and I turn from the window where I’d been gazing out into space. Time to start my shift. I walk from habitation through the mess and take the elevator up to hydroponics. Going ‘up’ is technically going towards the station’s axis, which means the gravity generated by its spin gets weaker. Moving dirt around and tending to the plants on their tall racks is easier this way. Mason’s already there, cutting strands off the thick, moss-like plant that makes up most of our nutrition.
‘G’morning Nowa,’ he says, ‘sleep well?’
‘Yeah, fine,’ I say, before getting on with my work. It’s tedious, but I don’t mind. I’d probably have chosen to work here even if my dad didn’t. The soil reminds me, however vaguely, of home.

During my break, I join Yesha and Zaid in the mess. They’re in the middle of a conversation that clearly started back in the lab, of which I understand little, but which I enjoy listening to. Then Ellis joins, and interjects with a question. Even though Ellis is not on the science team, they’re always able to follow Yesha and Zaid’s ramblings. I realise I’d been staring at Ellis, at the way they keep tucking their hair behind their ear with the same motion, when they direct the conversation to me.
‘How’s things at hydroponics?’ they ask.
‘Oh, just the usual,’ I say, ‘a bit boring.’
‘Boring is what I like to hear, when it comes to food production at least!’ Yesha says.
‘What else have you been up to then?’ Ellis asks, ‘it can’t all be boring. What about that book you told me about?’
They continue like this the whole break, asking questions, showing interest. It’s infectious.

Then it’s back to hydro for the second half of the shift. Ellis walks with me, on their way to retrieve something for logistics. As we get on the elevator, they ask ‘Say, Nowes, what do you want to do? Not after this shift, but in general?’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘Sorry, I won’t.’
There’s a pause, then they repeat the question. ‘What d’you want to do, Nowa?’
I think, then shrug and say ‘No clue.’
‘Really? Nothing at all?’
‘Guess so. What about you?’
‘I want to get off of this station.’
‘And go where?’
‘Hmm… My turn to have no clue. But in my case it’s adventurous.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Would you come with me?’ A smile forms at the corners of their mouth as they turn to me. ‘Would you help me steal a shuttle, brave the unknown?’
‘Are you inviting the others as well?’
‘Maybe.’ Mischief enters their smile. ‘Maybe it’s just us.’
‘You’re teasing me.’ I turn my face away.
‘So what if I am? Don’t you like the idea?’
I start to respond, ‘maybe…’ but the doors slide open and Mason greets us with a crate full of produce, which Ellis accepts as if it weighs nothing. I step out, they hit the button to go down with a corner of the crate, and the doors slide shut. Back to work, again.

When the shift ends, I linger at the window. From here, solar panels occupy most of the view. Solar panels that have never seen the light of their namesake, only that of our star, GS 4103-61. Important enough to condemn us all to life in its orbit, but not enough to give it a proper name. Our planet’s ring is beautiful, at least. At the right angle, it catches the light such that visible rays form on the dust. An area of higher density casts a long shadow right in the middle. The clump, as we’re lovingly calling it, has been forming for a number of months now. Zaid believes the planet could have a moon in a few tens of thousands of years if it continues at the same rate, which I’m assured is an unusually short time for the formation of a moon. Yesha says that that won’t happen, that none of the objects in the clump are large enough, that it is a temporary anomaly. A mission to investigate is set to leave during the next light shift, with Yesha and Zaid both on the crew. In the mean time, it gives me something interesting to look at.

The plan for the mission is a one-hour flight there, a half-hour spacewalk, then an hour back. Ellis and I see the crew off in the hangar. We wave to Yesha and Zaid from the viewing deck as the shuttle departs, though it’s unlikely they see us through their bulky helmets and the shuttle’s small windows. I want to go to hydro, to look out at them, but we’re supposed to attend a lecture on orbital mechanics in spaceflight. The sort of thing everyone is supposed to know. Yesha and Zaid are only cleared for the mission because they’re way ahead of the rest of us anyway, from their time in the lab. Neither Ellis nor I pay much attention though. We’re much more interested in discussing our predictions for the mission, which we do in hushed voices. Once we’ve exhausted the serious possibilities, Ellis pulls up an image of a gangly green man with huge black eyes, like in the films of our great-great-grandparents. I laugh, earning me an angry look from the lecturer.

Once the lecture is over, we go straight to hydroponics, where we’re just able to catch the shuttle leaving the clump. For safety reasons, we’re barred from the hangar for the return. We have to keep the collected samples from contaminating us, and us from contaminating them. I don’t see Yesha or Zaid until the next shift, and even then, we don’t get to talk much. They say they worked through the whole dark shift, analysing their samples and readings. Ellis and logistics are busy as well, refuelling, inspecting, sorting and repairing. This continues for a few shifts. When we meet, the others are mostly venting their gripes. Ever-present overdue repairs, worsened now by the extra workload; A single scientist hoarding equipment at a time like this. Apparently that same scientist has had a nervous twitch in her left hand ever since the mission. I join in on the complaining. There’s a new species of moss we’re trying out, but it refuses to grow according to our design. This has nothing to do with the clump, but it’s annoying all the same.

As the scientists keep working, results keep getting delayed. Wild theories are beginning to spread in the mess hall and the corridors. That we’ve actually discovered a new alien life form, or that it’s an information hazard, or that it’s the real reason this station has been here all these years. I don’t believe a word of it.

Until weird shit starts happening. I’m walking from hydroponics back to my bunk, taking a detour to stretch my legs a bit after crouching by the lower racks all shift, when I see these strange floating shapes. I assume they’re those floaters you get from looking into bright lights, but they move wrong. My second theory is droplets. Without gravity, liquids form spherical droplets held together by surface tension. But this is not like that either, for two reasons. One, there very clearly is gravity. I’m standing with two feet firmly on the station’s floor. And yet they hover. Two, these drops aren’t spherical, or at least don’t look like it. The oily, iridescent patterns are the same regardless of the angle from which I look at them. As if they’re one-dimensional, flat discs bound to my perspective by some invisible tether.

My curiosity gets the better of me. I try to touch one, but it just floats away. Or it seems to, but it doesn’t appear any smaller. It’s as though it was further away the whole time, and only seemed within reach due to forced perspective. I walk up to it, and try again, but again I touch only air. One more attempt and now my hand hits the wall, which the thing still appears in front of. So it’s not just defying gravity but also light and matter. Or it’s in my head. I turn to look at the other orbs, but they’re gone. I turn to the wall to see the one I just tried to grab is also gone. Great. I get the suspicion that approaching someone with ‘Hey, I saw some physics-defying discs floating about but I can’t show you’ wouldn’t go over well, especially with the mood on the station being what it is.

The next time I see the others, I’m not the only one who’s clearly thinking of other things. Ellis is staring into the distance, not listening to Yesha and Zaid, who are still on that equipment-hoarding scientist with the nervous twitch. Apparently she stopped showing up entirely after being moved off the clump project two shifts ago. Now they’re considering discharging her from the science team. Seems harsh to me, but then again, I’m not really paying attention. I’m trying to work up the courage to take Ellis aside and ask what’s up, if they’ve also seen something. Before I can make up an excuse, Ellis gets up and walks away without saying anything. They hadn’t even finished their food yet. I’m almost glad. I don’t want to come across weird to Ellis. I decide to try again later.

That dark shift, alone in my bunk, I’m trying to distract myself from the orbs by rereading one of the few paper books available on the station, when Ellis’ face pokes through the curtain.
‘There you are,’ they say, as if they weren’t expecting me to be in my own bunk.
‘What’s up?’ I ask.
Instead of responding, they climb onto the mattress, stretch, hold out their hand, then pull it back again. I’m just about to repeat my question when they interrupt.
‘Nowes,’ I’ve told them not to call me that, ‘I need a favour. I need you to help me clear something up, in the lab.’ They lift their hand again. This time planting it on the wall next to my head. ‘You’ll help me, won’t you?’
‘I don’t— I mean, well, yeah. But I, uh, what do you mean? I don’t have lab access…’
‘It’s best if I show you.’ With their other hand they reach for my chest. Their index finger curls over my collarbone, digs into my throat. ‘Please?’
My heart beats faster. I’m sure my face is bright red. ‘Yeah ‘course I’ll help I promise.’ I blurt the words out. I don’t even know what they want, or why they’re asking me. Nevertheless, to the lab we go.

The door to the lab looks like it was forced open, which is the first sign that something’s wrong. The second is that the lab is red. Completely red. And slick. It originates from a mass of something sprawled over a table. And the smell. Acrid and metallic. I realise it’s blood. A person… No. This can’t be happening. I take a step forward. I have to be sure. The body, it really is a body, is clutching something in one arm. A glass container, wires and instruments sticking out on all sides. I take another step. Inside the container are those weird orbs. My head starts spinning. Suddenly the smell of the blood hits stronger than before. I have to get out of here. I only barely avoid falling over as I turn around. I sprint-stumble back through the corridor. About halfway to the elevator I finally trip properly. My shoulder slams into the ground. The cold fucking metal ground. I throw up, retching stomach acid and undigested green nutrient paste.

I must have passed out. The Lights have come on. I’m looking up at Ellis’ face.
‘Ellis!’
‘Nowa! Are you okay?’
‘Yes. No. That— Fuck. That corpse. In the lab. You’re acting weird. Tell me you had nothing to do with that.’
‘I… I had to finish it.’
‘Finish what?’
‘The gravity gate.’
I push myself up, so I’m sitting with my back against the wall. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’
‘The gravity gate. You’ve seen it. You guys call it the clump, I think. It wasn’t forming right, but they wouldn’t let me have the equipment anymore, so I switched. It’s finished now. It’s only a matter of time.’
The spinning sensation returns. How are they so calm? And did they just admit to killing that scientist? I can’t think that. Not Ellis. For some reason I latch onto one word. ‘Switched?’
‘Yeah, switched. That’s the right word for it, I think. I like this one.’
The spinning sensation gives way to floating, as if I’m without gravity. Nothing makes sense. ‘What— who— What are you saying?’
They frown. ‘That’s… I mean… I’m—‘
They’re interrupted by the opening of the elevator doors at the end of the hall. Three scientists step out, look at us, at the lab behind us. They seem to freeze in place, then one turns around and presses the alarm button inside the elevator. Red lights come on in the hallway, a siren sounds. Ellis glances at the lab for a moment too long, as if they’re considering something in there, then their stance changes, as if they’ve reached a conclusion.
They grab my hand and pull me upright, saying ‘Come on, we have to get out of here, quick!’
We run, towards the lab, past it, around the corner. One of the scientists shouts ‘Stop!’ We keep running.

We run around to the other elevator, past a forming crowd, people wondering what the alarm’s about. They don’t stop us. Out of reflex or habit, I press the button to take us to hydroponics, where the alarms are silent. They shouldn’t be. There, out the windows, past the solar panels, the clump looks different, spinning, elongated, like it’s reaching for something. It’s growing as we watch. An arc forms out from the clump. It’s those fucking orbs, millions of them. The arc extends, whips around. Right towards us. The doors to Hydroponics open and Mason steps out.
‘Nowa, Ellis, what’re you doing here? Come on, we’ve to go to the— What in earth’s name is that?’
The whip comes closer.
‘Go! Now!’ Mason shouts, running towards the elevator and holding the doors open for us.
We jump in. I mash the button to close the doors. The whip connects with the station.

The noise makes the hair on my arms vibrate and my nose itch. Sirens howling over bending steel and screams and crashes. It comes from all sides in waves, almost rhythmic, painfully loud, assaulting my eardrums. And under it all, a rumble so deep, so guttural, you’d swear the station itself was a howling, thrashing beast.

There’s a hole in the station. Right there in front of the closing doors. Air is sucked out of the elevator. We grab at anything. My foot hits the wall at an angle and pain shoots up my ankle into my leg. Mason is nearest the door. He flies out. The doors close. The elevator repressurises.

I get up, ignoring my ankle, and press the button to open the doors. They stay firmly closed, the safety features doing their job. I press the button again, and again, and again. I start hitting instead of pressing. First with my palm, then my fist. My knuckles bleed. I feel a touch on my shoulder. I push Ellis’ hand away and sink to my knees, sobbing. I feel them crouch down behind me, and reach out again. This time I let them. They reach over my shoulder with one hand, and under my arm with the other, holding me in an embrace, their chest to my back. We sit there, not saying anything. Not that we could, with the noise still roaring outside our small metal chamber.

Keeping one arm around me, Ellis reaches for the button panel, and takes us to the station’s outer hangar ring. As we descend, gravity should get stronger, but it doesn’t. The station’s spin must have been slowed by the impact. The noise does recede, leaving only a low rumble and a ringing in my ears. The elevator doors open.
‘Come on,’ Ellis says, close to my ear, ‘we’ll get out of here.’
I let them pull me up, but flinch when I try to put weight on my foot. They offer their shoulders and I gratefully lay my arm across them.

As one, we step out into the corridor. It’s damaged and bathed in red warning lights. I nearly throw up, remembering the lab. We begin walking, Ellis clearly has some destination in mind. After only a short moment, we stop again. I lift my head to see, and immediately get a headache. There’s a twisting mass of girders, cables, unidentifiable, floating amidst more of those orbs. The corridor distorts around it, any sense of perspective gone. The corridor should curve up, out of sight, but it’s all there, every part of it looks equally close to me. Something tells me that, if the thing wasn’t in the way, I’d be looking at the back of my own head. I try to look behind me, but Ellis holds my torso straight.
‘Better not,’ they say, ‘there’s a shuttle this way.’
We walk right past the thing, ducking slightly so as to not touch it. I see an arm sticking out of the mass. Then I catch a glimpse of myself and Ellis in the not-distance. Then we’re upright again, and my view is blocked again. All my attention in the next few moments is on trying not to think. Not about the physics of this corridor, not about whether that thing is another clump or ‘gravity gate’, not about Ellis’s weird behaviour, not about where Yesha and Zaid might be, not about Mason. Of course I think about all of it. I’m not sure which throbbing pain is worse, my ankle or my head.

We reach a hangar door, which looks the same as all the others to me, but Ellis leads us in. There’s a large, sleek shuttle there. A newer one by the looks of it. Ellis lowers me down, so I’m sitting with my back against a steel pillar. I feel its coldness through my shirt.
‘What’d you mean, before, about switching?’ I ask.
‘Hmmm… It’s hard to put into words,’ Ellis responds while typing into the terminal next to the shuttle’s hatch. ‘It’s like… Have you ever dreamed you were… Someone you’re not?’
‘I don’t think so. I’ve never noticed. Why?’
‘I feel like that sometimes. Right now, too.’
‘Like you’re dreaming? Or like you’re someone else?’
‘Yeah. Both.’
‘Who are you, then?’
‘Ellis.’
‘You’re not making any sense, you know that right?’
‘I know. I need to think about— Hold on, there!’
The hatch opens. I realise their clearance level shouldn’t allow that. None of this makes any sense. There’s a loud tearing noise. The whole hangar shakes. I realise there’s a bigger problem than Ellis’ behaviour.
‘Neither of us can pilot that thing,’ I say.
‘I’ve been a pilot,’ Ellis says.
I know they haven’t. We’ve been on this earthforsaken station nearly our whole lives, and neither of us has had pilot training. But I’m too confused, too in pain to protest as they lift me up.
‘This your plan to run away?’ I can’t help but joke, sarcastically, or wary, as we enter the shuttle.
‘I don’t think this is what I meant then, but it is now,’ Ellis answers, their tone entirely sincere.
They lower me into a passenger seat. As they check my harness, I notice their left hand is twitching.

Ellis seals the shuttle’s hatch, takes the pilot’s seat, issues a command to open the hangar airlock, and fires up the thrusters. We glide gracefully out of the station, my first time in all these years living here. Behind us, the station is crowned by a whirl of debris, radiating out from our precious hydroponics ring. It’s almost beautiful. In front of us, space stretches out into infinity.