Gothic Space Opera

1928. Flying from Jivada to Earth. See the featured image to learn what the spaceship looks like.

Loyal House — In transit

Elbert raised the shutter on a window next to the front door, peering across a floodlit lawn into the infinite void of N-Space — shapeless, featureless, blacker than night, held off at the fence line by Saraf Drive emitter arrays, arching over the house like a sea monster’s ribcage, pylons engulfed in swirling webs of blue fire.

The house Oma recited a passage from the owner’s guide. “Depending on the intensity of exterior illumination, passengers may witness, at the envelope boundary, an effect of near-field spatial distortion acting upon available light, compressing wavelengths toward the violet end of the spectrum.”

Roman said, “In other words, the pylons aren’t shielded.”

“I’m sure it’s dangerous to get near them.” Elbert lowered his voice. “But how far away is far enough?”

“Are you thinking about going out there?”

“We’re not leaking atmosphere.” Elbert put his chin against Armor Glaze, craning his neck. “It’s quite a spectacle.”

They went four steps down from the top of the front stoop, just enough to look past the overhang. The air was dead still, the grounds deafeningly silent, every feature outlined in sharp contrast, individual blades of grass throwing deep shadows into turf.

Francine stepped across the threshold; voice dampened by ambient phase cancellation. “What’s it like.”

“Spooky as hell.” He nudged Elbert. “You’re a brave man, Doc.”

“For about a minute, anyway.” Elbert took his elbow. “Let’s go back in.”