Raft

Raft by Larry Tritten

F

rom out of space came a slender, cylindrical space vessel, half a mile long, hurtling at a

skewed angle. Its metallic fuselage bore scores of concave impressions, as if a vast mailed fist had hammered along its length, and it seemed to be falling. As it fell, in what appeared to be a listless way, dark incandescent red and orange colors limned its shape. Against a universe alight with placid starlight it was an aberrant sight. An observer would have known immediately that here was a tragedy, a rare drama being played out against the endless dazzle of countless suns reduced to points of white light, impartial and ubiquitous. The craft moved, fell, as swiftly as a meteor, the hot colors burning it with increasing brightness. And then, falling like a meteor that burns more greatly upon entering an atmosphere, it exploded. Vast involuted peals of radiant light consumed the vessel and for hundreds of miles around it there was turbulence, an inflammatory spectacle, floral in appearance, reducing the quiet drama of mere distant starlight to momentary insignificance. In the nebulous wake of the explosion great shards of metal detritus careened errantly through space. Then, soon after, a transparent cube the size of a small room went on falling through the void. Inside it an observer would have seen a man-being and a small quadruped beast, both agitated and apparently crying. The cube's velocity slowed, slowing more and more until it seemed almost balletic in its motion, delicate, seeming to waft. The man put his hands against the side of the cube, staring out at space and its stars like a wilderness of chandeliers. The small beast ran about, making frightened sounds. The man stared out of the cube for a long while, and then, overcome by the exhaustion of his ordeal, eased away from the side of the cube and lay down on his back with his limbs extended. Presently the beast calmed down, then went to the man and began to lick his face, an action the man tried to fend off with a flailing of one hand. But when the beast persisted, he reached out suddenly and swept it in an embrace, holding it tightly but gently. Minutes passed during which neither being moved discernibly. Several minutes later the man released the beast, looking out into space as if in confusion. The man wore a tight-fitting yellow suit, the pockets of which he began to examine, taking out of them, one after another, a small notebook, a felt-tipped pen, some coins, a chain holding a number of keys and a wallet. He put the items on the bottom of the cube and appraised them, smiling now enigmatically. The beast approached the items, probing at them with its muzzle. It walked erratically, as if its legs were weak or injured. The man noticed this, and reached out to stroke its head. Then he opened the wallet and removed a series of photographs, arranging them in a row on the bottom of the cube. Shaking his head, he seemed to begin to cry again, although there were no tears, just a grieved expression so great it seemed carved into his features. After a while, the man stood up and walked to one end of the cube, then back to the other end, touching its side tentatively, looking out. Space abounded with stars, stars that seemed to descend all around the two beings like a cosmic snowfall. The man watched them for a long time before lying down again, on his side, the beast moving to lie beside him. They remained motionless for an hour or so, then the man stirred, got to his feet, and went to one end of the cube. He opened a compartment there, taking out half a dozen small packets that he put on the bottom of the cube through which thousands of distant stars shone. He tore open the top of one of the packets and poured some pellets of food into his palm, shaking more of them onto the bottom of the cube for the beast, which moved wobblingly toward them and devoured them hungrily. He ate slowly, and when he was finished tossed the empty packet to the other end of the