Murat

Murat
Issız yerlerde kendin için bir evren ol
I sigh. “My original crew was three. Now it’s just me.” I put my hand up against the divider. Rocky puts a claw on the divider opposite my hand. “Bad.” “Bad bad bad,” I say. We stay like that for a moment. “I’ll watch you sleep.” “Good. Me sleep,” he says. His arms relax and he looks for all the world like a dead bug. He floats free in his side of the tunnel, no longer hanging on to any support bars. “Well, you’re not alone anymore, buddy,” I say. “Neither of us are.”
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Oh thank God. I can’t imagine explaining “sleep” to someone who had never heard of it. Hey, I’m going to fall unconscious and hallucinate for a while. By the way, I spend a third of my time doing this. And if I can’t do it for a while, I go insane and eventually die. No need for concern.

Murat

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Before leaving the cockpit, I take one last look at the Telescope screen. I don’t know why—I guess I just like to keep track of what extraterrestrial ships in my vicinity are up to. The Blip-A spins in space. It rotates end-over-end, probably at the exact same rate as the Hail Mary. I guess they saw me spin up the centrifuge and figured it was another communication thing. Humanity’s first miscommunication with an intelligent alien race. Glad I could be a part of it.
“Man grows used to everything, the scoundrel!”