“They say the last three navigation officers went mad,” whispered Lin, the ship’s biologist, over a meal of rehydrated noodles. “Started hearing whispers in the hull. One guy drew star charts that didn’t match any known sector.”
Rachel Steele sat in the navigation dome, alone with the cold stars. She was alive. But she understood now that some ships aren’t built. Some ships are grown . And some silences are not peace, but absence—the hollow where a thousand whispers used to be.
“Just expansion joints,” she told herself.
“They say the last three navigation officers went mad,” whispered Lin, the ship’s biologist, over a meal of rehydrated noodles. “Started hearing whispers in the hull. One guy drew star charts that didn’t match any known sector.”
Rachel Steele sat in the navigation dome, alone with the cold stars. She was alive. But she understood now that some ships aren’t built. Some ships are grown . And some silences are not peace, but absence—the hollow where a thousand whispers used to be.
“Just expansion joints,” she told herself.
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