The neon green flower stared at Georgie. Defiant. A lone sentinel guarding a castle. His mind played tricks on him, making the petals move when there was no wind to move them. It was one of those things that happened when you lived somewhere without an atmosphere. Eventually, you started filling in the blanks. Georgie’s knees strained against the thick vacuum suit as he grunted into a kneel.
Three years he’d lived on this abandoned rock in the middle of nowhere. Three years of slipping into the cushioned suit that turned him into a human marshmallow and stunk of sweat. He hated the suit as much as he had three years ago.
He squeezed the flower stem between the tips of his gloved sausage fingers and brought it up to his visor. The sheer vibrancy of the flower stood in stark contrast to the mauve landscape.
Sighing, Georgie tucked the flower into his utility belt, careful not to crumple it. It was fake, obviously, but that didn’t make it any less precious. He then rose and stood in front of the screen of the research equipment, twiddling knobs and pressing keys with the bored precision of muscle memory. With one hand, he turned off the music he’d been listening to and keyed into the comms.
“Nath, my love, are you there?” Georgie asked.
Several seconds passed, Georgie continued to skim the reams of data that the screen showed him. Methane levels had risen by .00 of a percent, the amount lost to space stayed at an acceptable level, the greenhouse effect was forming but still relatively non-existent. Progress was slow but constant.
A click. Georgie could always tell when someone was at the other end of the line, there was a distinct difference in the silence.
“Nathan,” Georgie said again, thumbing with the settings on the equipment. Exasperation was thick in his tone.
“Yes, dear,” Nathan said. He almost sounded innocent.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we agree that you would stop using the vacuum tape to make flowers?”
Another silence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, well get in touch with the Resin, we have a scientific miracle on our hands. Tell them the terraforming program is yielding results twenty-two years ahead of schedule.”
Nathan took a deep breath, a sign that he was about to indulge in some amateur dramatics. “What? That’s crazy! I’ll send them a message now.” Nathan’s voice broke, straining under the effort to keep up the act. He cleared his throat. “Have you chosen a picture for our Nobel application?”
“I’ll have to take a new one, I’ve put on a bit of weight since I last had my picture taken. I don’t think anyone would recognise me.”
“I’ll take one for you,” Nathan said, his voice sounded vaguely tinny through the comm speaker. “As long as you let me take another of you naked.”
Georgie scoffed.
“What for?”
“To look at your sexy body of course.”
“Babe, we spend maybe two hours a day apart, you can look at my naked body at home.”
“Nevertheless.”
Georgie rolled his eyes.
“I’m sending you the latest data reel. Confirm receipt.”
“Confirmed. Come home marshmallow man.”
“Rude. I’ll be about half an hour.”
“I’ll warm the bed for you.”
The connection ended. Georgie smiled, picturing Nathan’s scurry back to bed before curling up under the covers. He waddled over to the dune buggy and lowered himself into it, ridges in his suit aligned with ridges in the seat, securing him from being tossed out by a particularly vigorous earth mound. With one hand he pressed play on his music and with the other he started the buggy’s engines.
The station’s airlock closed behind Georgie, the feed on the bottom left of his visor turned from red to green, indicating that the room had enough oxygen for him to safely breathe. With a twist and a pull, his helmet came away and he hung it on the hook in his locker. He pressed a button on his belt and the suit fell away, pooling at his feet in an overly padded mess. Georgie took the flower and held it up to his face, out of instinct he brought it to his nose before realising how ridiculous that was and glancing ashamedly at the security camera. He dumped the rest of his suit in the recycler and stepped through the other door into the station proper.
The smell of garlic, cheese and toasting bread wafted into his nostrils. Nath must have ordered Camembert with the last food shipment. It had to be a special occasion. Some anniversary that Georgie forgot. They both loved Camembert but it was a ball ache to get shipped to them so they only had it on the rarest occasion.
Georgie checked his calendar with rising terror. There must be something he’d missed. There wasn’t much point, it was too late to muster up a present. It looked like a birthday blowjob was on the table. He wished he’d not had onion soup for lunch.
But no, there wasn’t anything on his calendar. Georgie put everything on his calendar, without fail, it’s how he avoided situations exactly like this.
Then again, if he had forgotten he wouldn’t know.
He stepped into the kitchen, the oven was on, slowly baking the camembert and toasting the sourdough it was set in. The timer still had fifteen minutes so Nathan had only just put it in the oven.
The door to the bedroom was closed. Behind it, Georgie knew Nathan was lying waiting for him to enter. Nervous, Georgie reached into his pocket and pulled out the flower. He twisted it in his fingers, watching the petals spin quickly so that they blurred into one. Georgie couldn’t help smiling as he did so, the thought of Nathan taking it out and carefully placing it while wearing his own marshmallow suit was too adorable not to.
Right, there’s no time like the present. Georgie held the flower firmly in his hand and stepped into the bedroom.
Georgie sighed when he saw the mess. It was expected at this point but no less disappointing to see.
The lights in the bedroom were dimmed, casting intense shadows everywhere and giving the room a crypt-like atmosphere. Georgie stepped further in and the door slid shut behind him. Nathan lay in bed, his body rigid and his arms crossed across his chest, his eyes were shut tight and his lips puckered behind the smirk he was trying to suppress.
Georgie rolled his eyes and smiled.
“What’s this?” Georgie said, in a voice of mock surprise.
“I’ve been cursed,” Nathan said before reassuming his puckered expression.
“Oh? What kind of curse?”
“A wicked one.”
Georgie went over to the desk and put the tape flower on the pile, that made seven hundred and thirty-five. He’d counted them all on a slow evening and kept track since.
Sighing, he undressed, his body groaned with fatigue and he was glad to be naked. He always felt more comfortable wearing nothing at all.
“And how do I break the curse?” Georgie asked, approaching Nathan on the bed.
“Only true love’s kiss can break the curse.”
“Only true love’s kiss?” Georgie repeated, leaning over Nathan and bringing their faces close.
Nathan squirmed, struggling to suppress his giggles. “That’s right.”
Georgie leaned in closer, their lips almost touching.
“Well, I better fuck off then,” Georgie said and got back to his feet.
“No!” Nathan cried and yanked Georgie back toward him. Their faces crashed together, both laughing as they kissed and Georgie rolled into their bed, they tangled their bodies together, basking in the warmth of each other's arms.
When they finally stopped kissing, Nathan pressed his forehead against Georgie’s.
“Hello,” Nathan said.
“Hello,” Georgie replied.
“How was your day? I didn’t really look at the data.”
Nathan rolled his eyes.
“Fine, nothing’s changed. The place is still for all intents and purposes dead.”
“Hmm.”
A silence stretched. The weight of Georgie’s guilt for forgetting whatever he had forgotten was too heavy. He had to say something, even if it meant breaking Nathan’s heart by revealing his forgetfulness.
“What is it?” Georgie said, gazing at the hair on Nathan’s chest.
Nathan stroked Georgie’s chest, running his fingers along his top surgery scars.
“What’s what?”
“The camembert, what have I forgotten?”
Nathan met Georgie’s eyes and blinked.
“Oh, I just thought we deserved a treat.”
Georgie rose onto his forearms to look down on Nathan.
“So, I haven’t forgotten anything?”
Nathan shook his head. “If you have then so have I.”
With a grave expression, Georgie pressed further. “You’re absolutely sure?”
Nathan nodded.
“Then I won’t feel bad for telling you off.”
That startled Nathan out of his lethargy.
“What?”
Georgie leapt form the bed, and pointed accusingly at Nathan. “I told you to stop making flowers from the vacuum tape.”
“But babe! You love them!”
“Be that as it may. There may come a time when we need that tape and we won’t have any left.”
Nathan frowned, his eyebrows scrunching in that adorable way they did when they were talking about something he wasn’t interested in, in the slightest.
“Georgie, we haven’t used the vacuum tape once in the three years we’ve been here. I don’t see that changing any time soon.”
Georgie sighed and rubbed his tired eyes.
“Fine, whatever. How much tape do we have left?”
Nathan looked away, a pink hue coming to his cheeks. His bottom lip held between his teeth, and he shrugged.
“Nath…” Georgie trailed, crossing his arms.
Nathan looked up at Georgie, a picture of cherubian innocence. “I may have used the last of the tape.”
Georgie groaned, the monitor on his wrist beeping to tell him he was due to take his testosterone.
“Baaabe, I told you not to use the last of it.”
Georgie walked to the desk and filled the needle with testosterone. He carefully stuck the needle in his thigh and depressed the plunger. Standing awkwardly, he waited for the ache in his thigh to dissipate before he returned to the bed.
“I couldn’t help it, you always look so cute when you find them.”
Nathan chewed the inside of his lip, tracing sad circles on the bed sheet. A ginger curl fell across his eyes.
Georgie frowned and shook his head. There wasn’t any use pressing this. It had been a sweet gesture and a part of him did love the fact that Nathan was leaving him little gifts, even if they were made of their emergency supplies.
“It‘s fine,” Georgie said, picking up an older flower and regarding it. “I’ll just order some more tape.”
Tossing the flower back on its pile, Georgie flicked the button next to the window and it went from opaque to transparent. Georgie gazed at the barren wasteland. Turning a lifeless rock in the middle of the expanse into a habitable paradise was no easy feat. It required vision, ambition, and drive. Georgie often wondered if he was the right man for the job.
He looked up into the night sky. Well not really night, it was the middle of the day for them. The distant light of the sun it orbited seemed to barely touch them, nevertheless it was mid-day. It was hard to look into the blackness of space and not confuse it for night so Georgie simply called it the night sky.
It was beautiful at times, the idea of space was that it was all black darkness, but that’s not true. Space is abundant with colour, a terrible kaleidoscopic explosion dancing across the window.
Georgie swallowed, thinking about the people he’d left behind. A twenty-five year commitment. Twenty-five years and the majority of those would be spent with only Nathan and the occasional video message for company. People called him mad. He wouldn’t have changed it for the world.
Georgie frowned, leaning forward to scrutinise the sky then turned to Nathan.
“Isn’t there supposed to be a meteor shower—?”
Before Georgie could finish there was a loud pop followed by a bright light. He threw his arms up to protect himself. Shards of molten metal bit into his flesh, peppering him with tiny burns.
A small meteor the size of a golf ball was embedded in the floor. A gradually rising hiss and his heart dropped into his stomach. Alarms blared, but still, the hissing. Hissing meant death. There was a hole in the ceiling of the station and air was escaping from it.
“Cover that hole!” Georgie cried, throwing the rest of his water onto the fire that was starting where the meteor touched the rug.
Nathan threw back the blanket he’d been cowering under.
“With what?”
“Anything!”
Georgie ran naked from the bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the welding torch.”
The door slammed shut behind him, muffled scrambling was accompanied by panicked shrieks. Where the hell was the torch? He yanked drawers open, throwing cutlery and food supplies across the kitchen. They’d used the torch to hotbox the rec room last month and he was pretty sure he put it in the kitchen.
He found the torch on the countertop next to the vase that held a projection of flowers at the point of its lifecycle where it was most beautiful.
Grabbing it, Georgie gathered some scrap sheet metal and rushed back into the bedroom.
A purple dildo jutted from the wall where the hole had been.
Georgie stared in awe.
Nathan stood below it, fingers bunched in his hair with a wild, harried expression.
“That is not staying there,” Georgie said.
Nathan spun on his heels.
“It was the first thing I found.”
The hiss continued.
“It’s not even big enough to make a proper seal!”
“I’m sorry!” Nathan wailed, the unintentional humour of what Georgie said lost on them both.
Georgie lit the torch.
“Well move it, I’m going to seal the hole.”
Nathan grabbed the dildo and pulled.
The dildo did not come away.
Nathan started to yank, grunting with every unfruitful tug.
He braced his feet against the wall and with one final mighty tug the dildo came away. Nathan fell to the floor, tossing the dildo into the pile of safety tape flowers. The sudden increase of the suction picked up one of the flowers mid-air. The flower darted to the hole, plugging it with an unappealing squelch. The hissing stopped as the petals of the flower unfurled, fixing their adhesive sides to the rim of the hole.
The alarms went quiet, filling the station with an eerie silence.
Georgie stared at Nathan, the torch still lit in his hand.
Nathan swallowed.
“I won’t make any more flowers,” he said between pants.
Georgie glanced at the flower stuck in the wall. It looked almost alive, the new dimensions afforded it by being forced open added a vibrancy it didn’t have before A smirk came to his lips as he saw the neon petals adhering to the wall.
“I don’t know, it’s kind of pretty,” Georgie said.
Nathan smiled.
The timer for the Camembert ran out.
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